Lansius awoke to the sight of an unfamiliar ceiling, gradually recalling that he was sleeping in Stefi’s house. As the events of the previous night flooded back into his mind, he took a deep breath, pushed his blanket aside, and rose to his feet.
The room was dark and cold, but a sliver of weak orange light stread in through a slit in the window. Picking up his bag without bothering to change his clothes, Lansius quietly left his room. The house was silent, and Stefi’s door remained closed. He carefully descended the nearly pitch-black staircase, feeling his way down and listening to the creaking of the wooden steps beneath his weight.
Reaching the bottom without a mishap, Lansius headed to the kitchen. There, he noticed more light seeping through the cracks of the door and front window. He approached the fireplace, where he had hung his old, worn shoes and socks. The lingering heat from the fireplace overnight had dried them out, freeing them from the previous day’s mud.
Grateful for dry footwear, he pulled out a chair and sat down to put on his socks. While the wealthy could afford longer socks or hose, Lansius made do with short ones. The cheap wool was itchy, but it was better than the discomfort of rubbing against hard soles.
After putting on his socks and shoes, he thought to start a fire. Noticing that Stefi had left the fire-starting kit on the table, Lansius picked up one of the charred pieces of wood from the previous day and began to strike the stone and tal together to produce sparks.
Despite a couple of unsuccessful attempts, he persisted, considering this a valuable opportunity to practice his fire-making skills.
Stefi
Stefi yawned as she descended the stairs, wearing an off-white mantle and hood over her head. Her face was pale from the cold, her eyes unfocused, and even her lips lacked their usual pinkness. Surprisingly, a good night’s sleep seed to have actually made her drowsy.
She didn’t even notice the crackling fire and was caught off guard by the warmth and light from the fireplace.
“Morning,” Lansius greeted her.
“Lans, you made a fire?”
“Well, you taught correctly. Turns out it’s not that hard when it’s dry,” he replied with a hint of excitent.
Stefi chuckled, wanting to comnd him but feeling too shy to do so. She approached the fireplace and knelt, basking in its warmth. Gradually, her pale face regained so of its healthy color.
Lansius offered Stefi a cup. Without needing to ask, she took it and drank slowly, aware that drinking too fast could provoke a cough since her throat was dry. After months stranded in winter, it had beco routine to drink watered wine to keep warm. Soon, more redness returned to her face, especially her lips and cheeks.
“How’s the weather outside?” she asked.
“Windy, with a bit of snow,” he said as he sat near her.
She took another sip. “Have you had breakfast?”
“Not yet. I was thinking of waiting for you first.”
She nodded, rose slowly, and approached the cupboard to find her small bag of grain. “How’s your stomach?”
“Ready for so gruel,” Lansius joked, as it was the only thing they had at the mont.
Stefi snorted and turned apologetic. “I’ll cook stew tonight. I should be able to get sothing from the field kitchen.”
“I’m not sure it’s necessary,” Lansius said in a serious tone.
Stefi looked at him, puzzled, and Lansius explained, “I’m going to rent a place tonight. Sowhere close, if possible.”
“Ah,” she muttered, clearly understanding his reasoning.
Her face turned a bit sad. Lansius, ever perceptive, noticed and asked, “You’re good with that, right?”
“What? Oh, sure. I’m just thinking that I’m going to eat alone again,” Stefi admitted, revealing more than she wanted.
Eh, dang, why did I say that?
Now, Lansius glanced to the side, seemingly perplexed before suddenly announcing, “All right, change of plan, I’m staying then.”
Stefi almost jumped. “No, you can’t,” she said sharply. “Soone will see and start a ruckus.”
He furrowed his brow in doubt and asked, “They’ll do that, even after a siege?”
Stefi sighed and tried to explain. “Especially after a war like this when they’re bored and without any entertainnt.”
Yesterday, they had seen several houses lit, evidence that many had stayed throughout the siege. Riverstead was populous enough, and many were affluent families of craftsn and tradesn; a siege wouldn’t uproot them.
“I wonder what they’ll gossip about us?” Lansius mused, a playful tone in his voice.
Stefi t his gaze, but Lansius quickly looked away, feigning ignorance.
Finishing her drink, Stefi placed the wooden cup on the table. “My knight master, Isolte, would’ve liked you,” she comnted without any particular intention.
Her cryptic remark seed lost on Lansius. “Eh, co again? Why do you think Isolte would like ?”
Stefi’s face softened, and she stifled a laugh as she recalled Isolte’s eccentricity. “She was always unpredictable. She outwardly tried to push into a marriage, but secretly, she always warned not to because n are all not to be trusted.”
“That’s a bit confusing.” He frowned.
“Indeed, she was like that. And it’s not like I could afford it . . .” she quipped, the combination of an empty stomach and wine loosening her tongue.
“What do you an?” Lansius asked.
“Well, the only thing I have is Horsie, and I don’t intend to give her for dowry.”
The thought of Horsie as a dowry amused Lansius, who burst into laughter.
“What’s so funny?” She glared at him nacingly.
“No, it’s just . . . Horsie as a dowry,” he stamred between laughs, unable to provide a better explanation.
She misunderstood his reaction and stared at him, making him flinch.
Growing annoyed, she asked bluntly, “Lans, do you need so knockings?”
“Wait, no, no, hear out,” Lansius replied quickly, attempting to co up with an excuse. “I an, in my . . . holand, it’s n who pay dowry!”
His explanation took Stefi aback. Her previous annoyance faded, replaced by curiosity as she nervously asked, “How much is this dowry?”
Trying to suppress his laughter, Lansius offered a number. “Probably more than three years of pay.”
Stefi nodded, her brow furrowed, as she tried to calculate the sum.
That’s huge, definitely huge. They pay educated n more than common footn or lowly squires.
“How about it, suddenly interested?” Lansius teased.
Only if they’re well behaved, strong, but not brutish.
However, Stefi soon realized that Lansius was the only foreigner she had ever seen in Riverstead. There were no other black-haired n around.
She paused to look at him and found him watching her so innocently with a faint smile. That made her wonder if this was his way of subtly proposing.
Is he really into ?
She couldn’t help but think that marrying an educated man like Lansius would be a blessing for a dead-end, masterless squire like herself. And now he might even pay the dowry.
She also noticed that Lansius had beco bolder since they first t.
Is it because he saw naked once . . . ?
It was easy to tell that the man had no experience with won, but that only made her more protective of him. Despite how common it was, Stefi couldn’t bring herself to exploit such an innocent, sweet guy. With so many thoughts racing through her mind, Stefi chose the approach she was trained for. She chuckled nacingly, alarming Lansius.
“All this talk about marriage so early in the morning. Maybe we’re too drunk, and a morning training session is needed to clear our heads.”
Lansius jumped from his seat, shuddering and shaking his head. “Wait, what? No, calm down. We don’t have swords, and yours isn’t dull.”
Stefi grinned maliciously and threatened him. “Sooner or later, you’ll need to practice against a real sword. Today is as good a day as any.”
“Uh, ah . . . Oh, rember we need to hit the shop and buy so clothes!” Lansius said, trying to change the subject.
Stefi maintained her gaze, contemplating what they could use for sparring.
Lansius quickly added, “Maybe buy so breakfast too? I’ll treat.”
She blinked, her eyes softening a little. “Mm . . . bribery huh. I doubt you have the money, but I know just the place.”
“All right, let’s go then. I’m hungry,” Lansius said, urgency edging into his voice.
Stefi could tell what he was doing, but decided to let him off the hook. “Let change my clothes first,” she replied.
Lansius imdiately relaxed, clearly relieved.
Lansius
For over three thousand years, Riverstead had been a silent witness to the rise and fall of nurous kingdoms and all three Imperiums. This ancient city, having been resurrected multiple tis from the ruins, was strategically nestled among three rivers that flowed toward the Great River.
Despite the rivers’ presence, the surrounding land wasn’t blessed with fertility, but rather with mineral wealth that had been mined since ancient tis. As a result, generations of craftsn had made their livelihoods here.
With access to the Great River, Riverstead maintained direct trade links with the Far East kingdoms and also served as a crucial trade hub for the northern provinces of the Imperium. Through the city, goods, particularly from the industrious province of Midlandia, flowed northward and eastward.
The city streets were paved with gray cobblestones, and the vastness of Riverstead was apparent, boasting hundreds, if not thousands, of buildings, including several multistory structures. Lansius found it fascinating that so of the buildings bore architectural resemblances to ancient Greek or Roman styles.
This morning, Lansius accompanied Stefi to the bustling market area, where they encountered open stalls teeming with people. Even in a city scarred by war, people needed to eat, and stall owners always found a way to make ends et.
Stefi chatted with so of the stall owners who eyed Lansius and made comnts about him. She either shrugged or waved them off, then returned with a wooden plate filled with various foods. One particular dish caught Lansius’s attention—a yellowish-white, layered square.
Lansius took his knife, rubbed it on his inner clothes, and tried to get a taste, but he couldn’t manage it. The food was slippery.
Seeing him struggle, Stefi used her spoon and thumb to pinch off a piece of the lasagna and fed it to Lansius. Once he tasted it, he found it to be similar to lasagna, with layers of pasta-like dough, and salt and cheese, but without tomato sauce.
Pretty good. I wonder if they have macaroni or spaghetti.
As the two ate standing in the street, the city slowly began to stir. The market was still recovering from the war, but those stalls that were open were crowded.
“Fortune favors the brave,” Stefi remarked, noticing where Lansius was looking.
Lansius nodded and comnted, so casually, “Profit makes the world go round.”
“So, you’ve heard the lore about the Ancients, huh?” she asked.
“What lore?” Lansius was intrigued.
Stefi furrowed her brow. “The round world?”
“You know the world is round?” Lansius asked, surprised, seeking confirmation.
She looked at him quizzically. “It’s a children’s story. Everyone knows that the Ancients transford into dragons and soared around the world, outpacing the sun in a race. I suppose you foreigners don’t have that tale.”
Lansius shook his head. “Marc never ntioned it, and I’ve never heard a bard sing that song.”
Stefi chuckled. “It’s a children’s story; bards don’t usually sing those. Try asking a wet nurse next ti.”
“Wet nurse? What’s that?” He was certain of his vocabulary, but nothing ca to mind.
Stefi just laughed it off. “Co on, we still have things to do. Finding you a new tunic is a priority.”
With that, she led him deeper into the market, where shops lined both sides of the bustling streets. As they browsed various cheap stores, excitent sparkled in their eyes. The day was still young, but things didn’t always turn out the way they wanted.
Reviews
All reviews (0)