"Laila! Laila! Don't go!"
Bonnie shouted anxiously from behind, then finally steeled herself, rushed out the door, and caught up to Laila.
Laila gave a gentle smile, eyes lowered. "What's wrong?"
Bonnie glared at her, puffing. "I'm just worried about your safety! What if something dangerous happens…"
Seeing the little girl's conflicted face, Laila stopped teasing her and changed the subject. "How's your studying going? Our teacher says this exam will be tough."
That worked—Bonnie's attention shifted. She tilted her head, thinking. "Aside from Elvish and math, which I haven't nailed yet, I'm okay otherwise. Just hope we don't get another stupid herbal illustration analysis—that'll be the biggest thing keeping me from passing."
"Don't worry, Bonnie. I can help you in class tomorrow; I've got plenty of experience with that…"
As they chatted, they gradually left Doud behind. Laila had already asked around and knew the general direction; plus, Bonnie was guiding them, so getting lost wasn't a concern.
Since there were no carriages to Bayek, they had to walk—a real test for two fifteen‑year‑old girls.
As the road grew more remote, they felt the atmosphere unique to Bayek—quiet, creepy…
Their laughter faded into cautious whispers.
Laila was glad Bonnie came along; alone, she wasn't sure she'd have the nerve to keep going.
"I think we should turn back. This place is really dangerous…" Bonnie clutched Laila's arm, shrinking her head and scanning the woods. She had the uncanny feeling that something was watching them from the trees.
"It's fine, Bonnie. We're almost there—I can see the town." Laila was uneasy too, but kept her voice steady, pitching it low enough for just the two of them to hear.
Behind them, hidden in layers of tree shadows, a single eye stared intently at the pair, its gaze tinged with confusion.
Master said one person… why are there two? Which one is the one he meant?
Bonnie wasn't the only one feeling watched—Laila sensed it too, and the feeling intensified the moment they entered the town, as if it came from all directions.
They eyed the houses warily; all were dilapidated, showing no sign of occupancy. Yet the sense of being watched from certain windows was strong.
Now Laila was starting to believe Bonnie's story. If some grotesque monster popped out, she wouldn't be surprised.
Well, since we're here, let's at least check the gentleman's house. He wouldn't lie to me… Laila made up her mind and walked more firmly.
Glen's place was on the outskirts, so it didn't take long.
But before they saw his house, they heard his voice.
A strange hum floated from up ahead—soft, but in the deathly quiet of Bayek, easy to catch.
"That sounds like him." Laila's face lit up.
"The man who saved your mom?" Bonnie asked.
"Yes." Laila took her friend's hand and quickened her pace toward the sound.
…
At Glen's House
Glen had just come back from the basement and was starving, so he hurried to cook.
He was pretty confident in his cooking skills—even with limited supplies, he could whip up decent dishes. Flavor-wise, maybe not gourmet, but leagues better than what the lower classes in this world usually ate.
Fiddling with the kitchenware, he absentmindedly hummed a tune, throwing in random lyrics now and then.
The sound drifted out the window, and the old neighbor across the way muttered, "That noisy brat… so annoying!"
Then he turned to the puppy chowing down beside him, smiling. "Baby, stay away from that guy in the future."
…
Just as Glen placed the steaming dishes on the table and was about to dig in, someone knocked.
He frowned, puzzled, and went to the door.
Cracking it open, he saw Laila and an unfamiliar girl outside.
The moment she saw Glen's face, Laila's eyes sparkled. She curtsied in her skirt and said, "Honored sir! Greetings! Last time we didn't introduce ourselves properly. I'm Laila, and this is Bonnie—we've met before."
"I didn't expect you'd really come. Please, come in." Glen was surprised too—he'd thought they'd chicken out once it got creepy. Sending the beast to shadow them had been insurance, but these girls were braver than he'd guessed.
Laila found Glen's casual manner unusual; she'd never met anyone so relaxed in a situation like this.
"Sorry to intrude." The two girls brushed past him; Glen noted the shy companion trailing Laila.
She's willing to accompany a friend here—must be a close bond… Once they were inside, he gently shut the door.
The slightly worn living room had a mild musty smell, not overpowering. On the wooden table sat steaming hot food, all visible to the girls.
"Sir…"
"Just call me Glen."
"Haven't you eaten lunch yet, Glen? Sorry for disturbing you." Laila offered a small apology.
"No problem—it's nothing. Since you're here, might as well join me. Try my cooking." Glen waved and gestured invitingly.
From the moment they met, this girl had been unfailingly polite, clearly afraid of upsetting him. He found it mildly surprising but chalked it up to local etiquette.
Hearing that, Laila hadn't responded yet, but Bonnie's eyes lit up like stars.
Glen caught that; she hadn't noticed, but he did.
Heh, prepare to be blown away by my culinary skills! Feel the might of the Foodie Empire! Glen allowed himself a small internal smirk and straightened up a bit.
"Oh no, that wouldn't be proper! We couldn't possibly…" Laila refused repeatedly, but Glen cut in.
"No, no, no! Young lady, it's not impolite. I said it's fine, so it's fine. Where I'm from, offering food to guests is basic courtesy. If you refuse, I'll be very disappointed."
Bonnie, who'd looked a little down at Laila's refusal, perked up again at that.
"O-of course, we wouldn't disappoint you. We'd be happy to eat." Laila looked slightly embarrassed, a flicker of surprise in her eyes.
For girls from a humble background like theirs, just getting enough to eat was hard enough—hosting or being hosted was almost unthinkable, and guests usually avoided burdening the host.
Laila couldn't imagine how Glen's homeland could be so simple and prosperous to have such customs.
Yet his home wasn't lavish—in fact, it was a bit worse off than hers. Even so, he insisted on this tradition?
Truly a kind gentleman… Her admiration deepened.
Glen seated them and handed out utensils, but the girls stared blankly at what he gave them.
"Glen… um, what are these?" Laila picked up two wooden sticks, handling them carefully.