Lara spun around sharply toward the sound of the voice, her movents crisp, but her tense stance softened when her eyes landed on the frail woman stirring awake on the bed.
Only now did Lara notice that the woman’s face was ashen, her cheeks hollow from days of illness, but her eyes—though tired—were alert and watchful.
"Ma’am, let help you," Lara said, stepping forward quickly when she saw the woman attempting to push herself up, her thin arms trembling with effort.
"No need. You are a man, after all," the woman muttered hoarsely, her voice tinged with suspicion as she struggled to steady herself against the bedfra.
Before Lara could respond, a sweet, sing-song voice piped up from the edge of the bed. "Mother, she’s a girl like and Eva," Flora chirped, swinging her small legs as she sat perched on the edge, her feet not even grazing the floor.
Lara’s brow lifted slightly, a flicker of surprise flashing across her face. ’How did this little girl know I’m not a man?’
Delia squinted in confusion, her hand waving weakly toward Flora. "What nonsense are you saying, Flora? Don’t you see he is a soldier?" Her words were sharp but slightly slurred, the remnants of exhaustion still clinging to her tone. Her gaze shifted to Lara, her suspicion deepening. "Did my husband really send you?"
Caught off guard, Lara hesitated. Her lips parted to reply, but her glance darted to Flora and Eva, who were sitting cross-legged on the bed, busily peeling the thin, translucent skin of the small fruit. A flicker of guilt passed over her features—she had already lied once. If she piled more lies on top of it, they might unravel.
Then she rembered sothing.
She cleared her throat, forcing a calm tone. "Ma’am, you should eat first to regain your strength. We can talk afterward. I’ll inform Abel and Lina that you’ve woken up. And..." she added gently, "your clothes are damp. You need to change them, or you’ll catch a chill."
Lara’s fingers brushed the basket slung over her arm, but her heart sank when she realized there were no eggs left to offer. Instead, she pulled out a sweet potato. Without missing a beat, she peeled it expertly and handed it to Delia.
Delia hesitated, her gaunt fingers hovering over the offering before finally accepting it. She nibbled slowly, her movents stiff and unsure. Lara handed her the mug the children had used earlier. It was the only mug in the room, and there was no alternative.
"My na is Delia," the woman said after a long pause, her voice softer now but heavy with emotion. "My husband and my brother-in-law were conscripted last year and sent to Hainai, to defend the border."
"My na is Kane," Lara replied, choosing her words carefully. "I’m sorry, ma’am, but I wasn’t sent by your husband. When I join the forces later, I’ll try to look for him and your brother-in-law."
Lara decided to tell her half the truth, otherwise it would be difficult to cover her initial lie with more lies.
Delia frowned, a mix of disappointnt and concern clouding her face.
"You... you have to get better, ma’am," Lara urged. "Your son Darius was injured, but it’s not serious."
Delia’s face turned ashen, her hand trembling as she set the mug down. "How... how did he get injured?"
"He was attacked by a tiger," Lara explained, watching the woman closely. "It left a wound on his right arm. But don’t worry—it’s being treated. He’s strong, and he’ll recover." She hoped the honesty would fuel Delia’s determination to heal. Sotis, hope and resolve could work miracles.
Delia stared at Lara for a long mont, her expression softening into quiet gratitude. "Thank you for saving my son."
Lara gave her a faint, reassuring smile. "It’s my duty. Rest now, ma’am. You’ll need your strength." She reached into her basket again, retrieving the last two pieces of longan and offering them to Delia.
Delia hesitated but eventually accepted, intending to pass them to her daughters.
"They’ve already had their share," Lara said firmly. "You need it more than they do right now."
Delia lowered her gaze, peeling the fruit slowly as if savoring every bite.
...
Lara left the room, heading to the kitchen where Lina was cooking the pheasant. Barett hovered nearby, carefully pouring yellow liquid from a pot into a wooden mug. The strong herbal scent of dicinal broth mingled with the food.
"Delia’s awake," Lara inford them. "I think the dicine’s ready, Barett. Let it cool, and take it to your mother."
Barett nodded, setting the mug down with a careful hand.
"Where’s Abel?"
"He went to fetch the village chief," Lina replied.
Lara continued to the adjacent room where Darius lay unconscious on the bed, his chest rising and falling steadily. The bandage on his arm had been removed, revealing a fresh green salve that gave off a pungent sll. Lara leaned in, recognizing the mixture as a blend of herbs to counter inflammation.
She frowned. ’Why didn’t he re-bandage the wound?’
Carefully, she rewrapped the arm, her fingers working with the precision of soone accustod to handling injuries. She pressed her palm lightly to his forehead, feeling the fever was reduced. He was improving—but he needed antibiotics.
Her mind wandered to the polo trees she’d seen earlier, their heavy fruits dangling invitingly. Vitamin C could help. She made a ntal note to ask the siblings to collect a few after lunch. Polo is a good source of Vitamin C and an antioxidant.
She needed antibiotics, but where could she find them in this era? There were a few herbs she knew that had antibacterial properties. She could ask the siblings to look for it after lunch.
Her thoughts were interrupted by raised voices outside. Lara’s eyes narrowed as she made her way to the yard, where a small crowd had gathered under the blazing midday sun.
"Healer U-mao, where are you taking that sled?" Abel’s voice was tight with frustration, his face flushed.
"I’m taking this as paynt for your debts—and my fee for treating your brother and mother," the healer replied smugly, his thin figure flanked by his equally rotund wife. They dragged the sled, the tiger’s lifeless body sprawled across it, toward the gate.
"That tiger’s worth a hundred tis more than our debts!" Abel argued, his voice rising with desperation.
"But Elder U-mao, aren’t you extorting us? That tiger would cost a hundred tis over than the debts we owe you." Abel reasoned.
The healer sneered. "Then you won’t have to pay for dicine for the next year. Be grateful."
As they continued to drag the sled, Lara stepped forward, her boots crunching against the dry earth. Her voice was cold, cutting through the noise like a blade.
"Put it down, Elder." Her eyes burned with quiet fury as the onlookers fell silent.
"I killed that tiger. They only helped carry it down the mountain. You have no right to take it as it is mine."
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