The narrow streets of the kingdom bustled with life as Elara walked ahead of Kael, her cloak brushing lightly against the cobblestones. The town had always been a place of contradictions: old, timbered houses leaning toward each other like gossiping elders, the scent of fresh bread mingling with smoke, and merchants calling out over crates of fruit and cloth. Children darted between the crowd, barefoot and hopeful, their laughter muffled by the roughness of daily survival.
A cluster of them sat near a well with small wooden bowls in their hands, medieval charity cups often carried by beggar children. When they spotted Elara, their faces brightened.
"Please, my lady… just a coin," one murmured.
Elara opened her pouch and dropped several silver half-crowns into their bowls. The children bowed deeply, clutching the coins as if she had given them gold.
"Thank you, my lady! May the heavens watch over you!"
She smiled at them softly and continued forward, her pace light but her heart heavy.
Kael followed silently; his dark aura muted under the disguise of an unassuming merchant's son. Yet even dressed plainly, he drew stares, his presence too sharp, too commanding to hide.
They arrived at the infirmary, a long stone building framed with woven herbs and blessed charms. Elara paused and looked back at him.
"You can wait outside if you're uncomfortable coming in."
Kael stood still for a beat, unreadable. Then, without a word, he followed her inside.
A woman in healer's robes, a pale ash-gray uniform with a braided silver sash marking her as a royal-trained physician, approached with a bright smile.
"Seraphine," she called, brushing back her blonde ponytail. Her green eyes sparkled warmly.
"Good heavens, it's good to see you. How are you, my dear?"
"I'm well, Matilda. And everything here? Running smoothly?"
"For once, yes," Matilda laughed, then paused when she noticed Kael. "Oh? And who might this be?"
Elara turned, startled he was still behind her.
"This is Kael… my, my brother."
Kael caught on instantly, though the word brother clearly amused him.
"Oh! I had no idea you had a brother." Matilda blinked, stunned by his striking appearance.
Kael bowed just slightly, restrained and perfectly polite.
"Good day to you, Mistress Matilda."
Elara had no idea how he managed to make a simple greeting sound noble.
"Oh, please, no need for such formality," Matilda beamed. "Call me Matilda."
She extended her hand for a greeting.
Kael visibly hesitated; touch was not his preference, but he accepted the handshake anyway to maintain their story.
Elara pressed her lips together, trying not to react.
I had no idea you had a brother, Elara," Matilda said.
"Well, I do. And he's an arse-witted menace, which is precisely why I avoid mentioning him." Elara smirked.
Matilda laughed. "Did you come to help today?"
"No," Kael cut in before Elara could answer. "I came to keep an eye on her."
Elara glared at him.
Matilda's brows rose. "Ah… a protective brother, I see."
"He was ordered by our father," Elara said quickly. "He worries for my safety."
"That is lovely," Matilda said. "And quite kind of you, Kael. I assure you, it is safe here."
"I thank you for your assurance," Kael replied plainly.
The healers, known as attendants, moved swiftly across the room carrying linen bandages, clay bowls of warm water, and bundles of crushed herbs. Several women whispered behind their hands as they walked past Kael, cheeks red and eyes lingering much too long.
Matilda leaned toward Elara with a mischievous grin.
"I see someone has caught the attention of half the staff."
"This," Elara muttered under her breath, "is going to be a very long day."
Inside the infirmary, rows of cots were filled with people, laborers with broken limbs, farmers with infected cuts, and elderly folk weakened by winter. The air smelled of herbs, smoke, and iron.
Elara moved with practiced ease. She knelt beside an older man whose leg was badly gashed.
"Let's have a look," she said gently.
She cleaned the wound with warm water infused with comfrey leaves, then applied a thick layer of soothing salve, a medieval blend of honey, ground herbs, and resin to keep infection at bay. Once the bleeding slowed, she wrapped his leg in fresh linen bandages, tightening it expertly.
"You must rest," she instructed. "No walking on it, no pressure. It's a deep wound, and ignoring it may cost you your leg."
"Yes, my lady. I promise. I have a family to provide for."
"Good. Now go to the apothecary just across the courtyard, they will give you the herbs I've written down. Take them as told."
He bowed gratefully. "You're an angel among us. Thank you."
When he left, Elara glanced over to find Kael leaning against the wall, arms crossed, legs crossed, watching her with an unreadable expression.
She walked over, wiping her hands on a cloth.
"I didn't expect you to come inside. That's why I panicked and said the first thing that came to my mind."
He gave a small, knowing nod. "I know."
Elara leaned beside him, shoulder brushing stone.
"I told them my father is a wealthy merchant, that we travel between towns learning medicine. That I bring herbs here for the poor. It keeps suspicion low and lets me help the people who have no one else."
Kael said nothing, but his eyes softened but he's eyes direction elsewhere.
"I read medicine books in the palace, then come here to learn physically. That's how I became good, good enough to be trusted. These people… they need someone. This is the only way I can help them for now."
She turned to him, almost pleading.
"So please… don't ruin this for me, Ser Kael."
She started to step away, then froze when she heard him speak quietly.
"How lucky they are," he said.
Elara blinked. "What?"
His gaze remained fixed on her, dark and sincere.
"How lucky they are… to have you."
Her breath hitched.
For the first time since she met him, he wasn't a shadow or a sword or a walking enigma.
He was simply a man seeing her, truly seeing her.
And that terrified her more than any prophecy.