Chapter 3
I stepped inside the musty apothecary. The scent of herbs and flowers overwhelmed my senses. Dried lavender and sage hung from the rafters in neat bundles, while the sharp bite of crushed mint and the earthy musk of mushrooms danced in the air. As I entered, a woman with sharp features and piercing blue eyes looked up from her work. She watched me expectantly as I rummaged through my bag.
"What can I do for you?" she asked, her tone not welcoming.
"I need these for my grandmother," I passed her the list of ingredients. "She was sure you'd carry them."
She took the parchment, reviewing my grandmother's careful script. "Your grandmother wouldn't happen to be Eleni, would she?"
The woman's sharp stare left me speechless. Her gaze pierced through me like a winter frost, sharp and unforgiving. It seemed like my grandmother had crossed her in the past. Knowing her, she probably did. I crossed my arms, fighting the urge to defend her reputation right there. My grandmother was equal parts maddening and merciful.
I nodded, unable to speak a word. The owner rolled her eyes as she pushed past a curtain at her back, muttering something about young people and no manners as she disappeared.
While waiting for her to gather the items, my eyes wandered around the shop. Dusty shelves overflowed with glass jars containing liquids of various colors, some containing ingredients like eye of newt or toadstools. The air hung thick with notes of smoke and rosemary. My attention caught on a shelf full of worn leather books, their gilded letters along the spines worn with age and in a language I couldn't quite make out. A thump at the counter drew my attention back, and I found the owner had returned with a thick parcel.
"It'll be five silvers for everything, tell your grandmother I gave you her usual discount."
I smiled and retrieved the coins from the pouch in my bag, handing them to her. "Thank you."
Just as I was about to leave with the goods in hand, the owner spoke again. "Your grandmother has always been an enigma to me," she said thoughtfully. "She's never shared much about herself, but she always comes with a tale of her granddaughter. It makes me miss my own greatly."
I gave her a small smile as I grabbed my wares and headed towards the door, feeling a pang of sadness at the thought of there ever being a day when I wouldn't wake up to my grandmother busying herself in our home. She was the only family I had in this life.
The moment I stepped back into the sunlight, my breath caught in my throat. Ma?l stood before a jeweler's shop next door, a glinting ring held delicately between his fingers. My fingers trembled against the parcel in my hands, my chest constricting as though wrapped in thorny vines. The world seemed to narrow, darkening at the edges as I stared at that cursed ring, my mouth going dry as dust.
My heart sank as realization dawned on me. Was he planning to propose? And to whom? A shiver ran down my spine, thinking about the moment with Lydia I witnessed earlier. The thought of him proposing made me feel sick inside. Just moments ago, I had been imagining a childish future with him while he had plans with another. It was never going to be me and Ma?l. My chest hollowed, each breath a battle against the void threatening to consume me. The ring's gleam mocked every stolen glance, every lingering touch, every moment I'd foolishly treasured between us. I was nothing but a shadow in his light, destined to watch from the darkness as he chose another.
Desperate to escape the crushing weight of reality, I slipped into the nearest alley, my feet carrying me around the square until I found myself at the tavern's door.
I needed to numb myself to the bitter truth that had shattered my heart.
I claimed a dark corner table, where the flickering candlelight couldn't reach.
The barmaid barely glanced at my face before returning with a pitcher of dark wine.
I let the wine burn away my thoughts, while the tavern's cheerful chaos mocked my misery.
Perhaps at the bottom of this pitcher, I'd find the strength to forget his smile.
The wine flowed like liquid courage through my veins. The tavern had erupted into a cacophony of laughter and song since my arrival. Seeking solace in another tankard of wine, as merrymakers celebrated life's fleeting joys. Would Grandmother's disapproving frown greet me when she learned I'd spent my first taste of freedom drowning in wine and self-pity?
Perhaps. But did the weight of her judgment compare to the crushing pain in my chest? Honestly, not in that moment.
Ma?l would eventually track me down, drag me back. We'd go back to our separate lives, as destiny seemed to demand.
Ma?l...Ma?l and his ring. Soon to be Ma?l and his fiancée. I gulped down more wine, pressing my palms against my eyes until stars burst behind my lids. I'd have to paste on a smile while our entire village celebrated his happiness with another. Oh gods, I'd have to stand there, frozen in my personal hell, watching him pledge himself to another.
The wine scorched a path down my throat, a blessed burn to rival the one in my chest. My fingers trembled against the tankard's surface, my usually steady hands betraying me now. The tavern's cheerful atmosphere felt like a cruel joke, mocking my misery with each peal of mirth that rang out, each clink of tankards an echo of my shattering heart.
I could see him there, his tall frame commanding attention against the backdrop of a perfect day. Ma?l would be effortlessly handsome, as always, his brown eyes dancing with joy as he beheld his radiant bride. A bride who wouldn't be me. I'd be there in the crowd, suffocating on unsaid words.
While everyone else celebrated the happiest day of my best friend's life, I'd be drowning in my own misery.
My violet eyes would be rimmed with red, each exchanged vow another crack in my already splintering heart. Gods, I was pathetic.
I'd ruined everything. Somewhere between the quiet moments and shared laughs, I'd started dreaming of more than friendship. My beloved books had betrayed me, filling my head with tales of friends becoming lovers until my foolish heart believed I could have that too. That Ma?l and I could be more than what we were. Nothing but a fairytale I'd spun in the quiet moments between duties and hunts.
The bitter taste of wine only emphasized my foolishness.
How could Ma?l, with his warm heart and easy smile, ever want someone as sharp-edged as me? Like morning mist dissolving in sunlight, some dreams were never meant to last.
Having nearly finished my current glass, I contemplated ordering another drink when a pair of strangers materialized at my table like shadows. One loomed like a scarecrow while his companion was built like a boulder. They wore clothes dulled by road dust and time, but there was something predatory about them I couldn't pin down in my drunken haze.
"Evening, miss," the taller one said, flashing a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Care if we join you?"
I waved a hand lazily, gesturing to the empty chairs. "Suit yourselves."
They sat, and the shorter one leaned in, his breath carrying the stale scent of ale.
"We're merchants, you see. Looking for a small village nearby to peddle our wares. You wouldn't happen to know of any, would you?"
My wine-addled mind perked up at the word 'wares.' "Merchants? What kind of goods do you sell?" The flickering tavern light cast strange shadows across their faces, highlighting a thin scar on the tall one's jaw. The shorter one's thick fingers drummed an uneven rhythm on the wooden table. Even through my drunken state, something about them set off warning bells in my head, but the wine made it all too easy to dismiss.
"Oh, a bit of everything," the tall one said, his words as slippery as oil. "Blades, books, clothing—treasures for every taste."
The promise of new books—fresh escapes from this reality where Ma?l belonged to someone else—made my shattered heart leap.
"What sort of books?" I asked, leaning forward despite the way the room tilted.
The shorter one's grin widened, revealing teeth too sharp for comfort. "Oh, everything a young lady might desire. Romance, adventure, mystery—stories to make your wildest dreams come true."
The wine pushed words past my lips before wisdom could catch them. "There's a village not far from here. Half a day's walk southwest. It's home."
"Is that so?" The tall one's eyes gleamed like a wolf's in moonlight. "And this village has a name?"
"Briarwood. It's small," I added, the wine making me generous with secrets, "but we welcome visitors. Especially those bearing quality goods."
The men shared a look that should have terrified me, had I been sober enough to read it. "Well, aren't you helpful?" the tall one purred. "We'll be sure to visit your little village soon with our... special merchandise."
As they melted into the tavern's shadows, I called after them, "Remember the books!" My words chased their retreating forms like a child's wish thrown into a well.
They chuckled, a sound that should've sent chills down my spine. "Oh, we won't forget. Not at all."
The men slipped away, their laughter trailing behind them like smoke. I felt my cheeks warm from the wine and the conversation. Unease curled in my gut. Briarwood had always welcomed strangers with open arms, yet something about those two felt off. I shook my head, trying to clear the drunken fog as I took another swig from my tankard.
Suddenly, the tavern door swung open, and of course it was Ma?l. He stood tall against the warm glow of lantern light, scanning the room with an ease that made me smile despite myself. My heart skipped a beat when our eyes locked.
He made his way over, brow furrowed with concern. "Lor," he said softly, slipping into that familiar tone that sent a shiver down my spine. "You alright?"
"Just fine," I replied too quickly, trying to hide how far gone I really was.
He leaned closer, his brown eyes narrowing as he assessed me. "You've had enough for one night." His voice held that gentle authority I couldn't resist.
"Maybe I just wanted to celebrate," I shot back, bitterness creeping into my words.
"Celebrate what? Your ability to drink like a fish?" A hint of teasing danced in his tone, but his words fell flat against the weight crushing my chest.
I tried to look away but found myself trapped by those warm brown eyes.
The ring he'd purchased haunted my thoughts, a dark storm threatening to drown me.
Ma?l's lips twisted into a frown as he held me with a gentle grip when I swayed.
"We should get you home."
I stumbled as we stepped outside, the cool night air hitting me like a splash of cold water. My vision blurred as he steadied me against his solid frame.
"Alora." His voice softened with concern. "What's going on? You can tell me anything."
I opened my mouth but managed only a whisper, the words clinging to the edges of wine and despair.
"I just had a little too much, apparently I can't hold my liquor."
He rolled his eyes, wrapping an arm around my waist as we started home. The rhythm of our steps lulled me, my head growing heavy against his shoulder.
"Next time, you're carrying my drunk ass home," he muttered, before sweeping me into his arms, one hand beneath my knees, the other supporting my back.
I nestled against his shoulder, breathing in his familiar scent—pine needles and home.
"I just wish..." My voice faded to barely a whisper, "...you'd choose me."
I swore his grip tightened around me before darkness claimed me.