29 - Blessing

Morning broke over the village with a softness that seemed reluctant to disturb the rooftops. Pale gold light spilled through the shutters of the inn, painting the wooden beams in long strokes.

The hush of early dawn lingered, broken only by the distant clatter of someone tending animals outside and the muted crackle of a kitchen fire being coaxed to life.

Luna was already awake.

She had been awake for a while, lying on her back with her hands folded beneath her head, eyes fixed on the rough-hewn ceiling boards.

Sleep had been light and restless, not because of unease but because her mind would not stop circling the same thought. Plans. Schemes. Little threads to pull that could weave Darren and Sarah closer together.

It wasn’t complicated, not in her eyes. Sarah’s fear was simple—she didn’t want Darren to have to choose between love and duty.

But what if he didn’t have to? What if the two things Sarah treated as irreconcilable could exist side by side? Love and responsibility, not as competing paths but as one road.

Luna’s lips curled into a sly little smile in the half-dark. To her, the solution was obvious.

If the problem was Sarah’s fear of standing in Darren’s way, then the answer lay in making it so she wasn’t an obstacle at all. If both families—his noble bloodline and her farmer kin—gave their blessing, then where was the conflict? Where was the sacrifice?

Simple. Beautifully simple.

With that smug satisfaction, Luna rolled out of bed, smoothed her dress, and padded toward the stairs.

The inn was quiet as she descended, the boards creaking faintly under her small weight. She expected to see Sarah at the counter as usual, ready with her soft smile and steady hands. Instead, there was someone else.

A man.

He was burly in a way that dominated the space behind the counter, broad-shouldered with arms thick from years of work. His beard was trimmed short but full, his hair dark and shaggy.

He had the look of someone carved out of the earth itself—solid, immovable.

Luna slowed on the steps, blinking at him. Their eyes met, his dark and assessing, hers sharp and curious.

By the time she reached her usual stool, she had tilted her chin up, refusing to look smaller than she already was. She swung her legs over the stool and perched neatly on it, folding her hands on the counter.

“Where’s Sarah?” she asked.

The man didn’t answer. He only looked at her with a steady gaze, the kind of look one might give a wild animal sniffing around the garden. Not hostile, not unkind, but watchful. Measuring.

Luna frowned. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Still no answer. The man only rubbed his chin, thumb against his beard, eyes narrowing slightly as though he were puzzling something out.

Luna’s frown deepened. She was used to people underestimating her, yes, but being ignored twice in a row tested her patience. She tapped her fingers against the counter, sharp little clicks like claws against wood.

Finally, the man spoke. His voice was low, gravelly, carrying the weight of someone who rarely wasted words. “You the one responsible for my daughter acting strange last night?”

Luna blinked. The words settled on her like dust, and she tilted her head. “…Daughter?”

The man nodded once.

Realization struck like a splash of cold water. Luna’s eyes widened. “Wait—you’re Sarah’s father?”

Another nod. Matter-of-fact.

Luna stared. She had imagined Sarah’s father many times since learning she was a farmer’s daughter—quiet, bent-backed, sun-weathered but gentle, perhaps with calloused hands and a ready smile.

Not this. Not a man who looked more like a bear in human form, all bulk and presence, with a face that might have seemed stern if not for the softness tucked behind his gaze.

“You don’t look like a farmer,” she blurted before she could stop herself.

That earned her the faintest twitch at the corner of his mouth.

Recovering, Luna narrowed her eyes. “So, you’re asking what I did? Why she acted… strange?”

“That’s right.” His gaze didn’t waver. “She came to me last night. I could see it in her eyes—something had shifted. A resolve that wasn’t there before.” He leaned an elbow on the counter, massive arm folding easily. “So I’ll ask again. What did you do?”

Luna tilted her head, hesitant. Then, almost too casually, she asked, “Did she… talk to you about Darren?”

The man’s brow furrowed, a low sound rumbling in his chest. “Darren, huh.” He muttered the name under his breath, then gave a short grunt. “So he’s the reason.”

Luna’s eyes widened, realizing too late she might’ve given something away. “Ah—maybe I shouldn’t have said that.”

But instead of pressing, the man shook his head slowly. “You don’t have anything to worry about.”

Luna blinked.

“I’ve known about her feelings for that boy for years,” he said simply. “Didn’t need you to tell me. What sort of father wouldn’t know who his daughter’s set her heart on?”

For a moment, Luna could only stare. Then, slowly, her lips curled upward. A giggle slipped past them. “You knew?”

“Of course I knew.” His expression softened, the weight of his voice gentling. “She thinks she hides it well. But a father notices. Always.”

Luna’s amusement grew, bubbling into an almost smug delight. Here was this man, this burly bear of a farmer, claiming with utter certainty that he had always known his daughter’s heart. It was unexpectedly sweet. Sweet in a way that made her chest feel warm despite herself.

The man’s eyes narrowed again, though not unkindly. “But what I want to know is… how did you push her to face it? That girl of mine’s stubborn as an ox. If it were as simple as telling her to be honest, she’d have done it long ago.”

Luna sat up straighter, tilting her chin with catlike pride. “It was that simple. I told her the truth. And maybe… maybe it wasn’t just me. Maybe it was fate.”

The word lingered in the air.

The man considered her for a long moment, his hand still on his chin. Then he huffed a quiet breath, almost a laugh. “Fate, is it? Perhaps so. Fate that my stubborn daughter should cross paths with you of all people.”

That caught Luna off guard. She blinked, then smiled slowly, slyly. “Probably.”

And with that innocent, smug smile, she looked every inch the meddlesome creature she was.

The man chuckled low in his throat. “Then I suppose I’ll allow it.”

“Allow what?”

“Your meddling,” he said. “If you’re going to stick your nose in her affairs, then do it properly. You’ve my permission.”

Luna’s eyes went wide. Then she broke into a grin, almost caught like a child with her hand in the honey jar.

She had been meddling all along for her own amusement as much as for Sarah’s happiness—and now Sarah’s father had noticed. Worse, he had given her his blessing to keep going.

Well, she thought, at least he’s honest about it.

The man ladled a bowl of stew from a pot simmering behind the counter and set it before her. “Eat. You’ll need your strength if you’re planning to twist things further.”

Luna giggled and dug in eagerly, delighted at both the food and the blessing.

It wasn’t long before the back door to the kitchen swung open. Sarah stepped out, wiping her hands on a cloth, hair pulled back neatly.

“Dad?” she asked, suspicion lacing her tone. “Who were you talking to?”

Before her father could answer, Luna leaned sideways on her stool, peeking around him with a wide grin. “Morning, Sarah!”

Sarah’s eyes widened. She flushed instantly, striding closer. “Luna—what were you talking about with my father?”

“Nothing,” Luna said sweetly. “He already knows everything.”

Sarah froze, color draining from her face. Slowly, her gaze slid toward her father, silently demanding the truth.

The man met her look and nodded once. That was all.

Sarah’s cheeks flared crimson. She sputtered, then dropped her gaze to the counter, suddenly fascinated by the wood grain.

Her father gave her shoulder a squeeze as he passed, muttering something about checking the kitchen. He left them alone, disappearing through the back door.

The moment he was gone, Sarah whirled on Luna, her eyes wide and blazing. “How much did you say?!”

“Nothing,” Luna repeated innocently, spoon poised over her bowl. “Really, I didn’t tell him anything. You already gave yourself away—you’re just bad at hiding it. I only said Darren’s name.” She grinned. “And guess what? He already knew. About Darren. About everything. You were the stubborn one, remember?”

Sarah groaned, burying her face in her hands. Her ears burned red.

Luna chewed contentedly, smug as a cat with cream. After a pause, she added almost sing-song, “Don’t worry. He’s not against it. In fact, he gave me his blessing to keep meddling.”

Sarah’s head snapped up, eyes wide. “He—he what?”

“Mmhm.” Luna’s grin widened. “He’s on our side. Yours, Darren’s, mine. He wants you to be happy.”

Sarah blinked rapidly, overwhelmed. She hadn’t expected her father to know, let alone support her. It shook something deep inside her, left her unsure whether to laugh or cry.

But Luna wasn’t done. She leaned forward, eyes gleaming mischievously. “So, Sarah. What are you going to do with that blessing?”

Sarah flushed again, stammering. “L-Luna, you’re impossible!”

Luna only laughed, finishing the last of her stew with a satisfied sigh.

Sarah was left standing at the counter with her cheeks blazing red.

Across from her, Luna rested her chin in her hand, spoon tapping idly against the empty bowl, eyes sparkling with far too much amusement for Sarah’s comfort.

“You should’ve seen your face,” Luna teased, her grin wicked. “Like a rabbit caught in the open. All pink and twitchy.”

“Luna!” Sarah hissed, her voice a sharp whisper, though the embarrassment softened its edges. “You can’t just go bringing him up like that!”

“I didn’t bring up anything new.” Luna licked a trace of stew from the corner of her lip, then pointed her spoon at Sarah. “He already knew. Fathers notice things. You were the only one pretending otherwise.”

Sarah groaned, pressing her palms over her face again. The thought of her father knowing—knowing all this time—made her stomach twist with a mix of mortification and relief.

Luna leaned back, kicking her legs idly beneath the stool. “Honestly, I don’t know why you’re surprised. He’s not blind. Or stupid. He’s your dad.”

Sarah peeked at her through her fingers, voice muffled. “And he said… he’s not against it?”

Luna’s grin softened into something gentler. “Not at all. He gave me permission to meddle as much as I like. Which, let’s be honest, I was going to do anyway.”

Sarah dropped her hands at last, staring at Luna as though trying to gauge the truth. But the smug innocence on the little girl’s face was impossible to read—it could mean anything, everything, or nothing at all.

For a moment, silence stretched between them, filled only by the muted clatter of pots from the kitchen where her father worked. Then Sarah exhaled slowly, her shoulders slumping. “Even so… it doesn’t change anything.”

Luna tilted her head. “What do you mean?”

Sarah’s eyes lowered, fixing on the grain of the counter. “Even if my father approves. Even if he’s known all along. I’m still just… me. A villager. A commoner. Darren’s world is nothing like mine. If I try to be part of it, I’ll only drag him down.”

Her words came out soft, but heavy, like stones pulled from the bottom of a river. It wasn’t the first time Luna had heard them, but the weight behind them hadn’t lessened. Sarah wasn’t merely afraid—she believed it, deep down, the way one believes the sun will rise.

Luna studied her quietly for a long moment. The firelight from the kitchen flickered across Sarah’s downcast face, softening her features, highlighting the vulnerability she so rarely showed.

Then Luna sat up straight, eyes gleaming with fresh mischief. “So… you’re worried about your different worlds, right? Darren’s nobility, your farming roots. That’s what’s holding you back?”

Sarah’s lips pressed into a thin line. She nodded.

“Then let’s fix that.”

Sarah blinked. “…Fix it?”

Luna nodded decisively, as if the solution were as simple as patching a torn cloak. “If you think Darren’s family is the problem, then let’s get their blessing too. Your father approves already. So if Darren’s family approves, what excuse will you have left?”

Sarah stared at her as though she had sprouted a second head. “You can’t be serious.”

“I am,” Luna said smugly. “All we have to do is ask.”

“Ask?” Sarah’s voice jumped an octave, incredulous. “You mean march up to his noble family, knock on their door, and say, ‘Excuse me, I’d like to marry your son’?!”

Luna burst out laughing, the sound ringing bright in the empty lounge. “Well, maybe not exactly like that. But close enough.”

Sarah covered her face again, groaning into her palms. “You’re insane.”

“I won’t deny that,” Luna said cheerfully.

Sarah peeked at her through her fingers, torn between horror and exasperation. “You don’t understand. His family… they’re nobles. Proper nobles. They live by rules and traditions. I’m just—” She faltered, biting down on the words.

“Just a farmer’s daughter?” Luna supplied softly.

Sarah flinched.

Luna’s grin faded into something steadier. “So what? You think they’ll care about titles more than their son’s happiness? You think Darren would let them decide for him?”

Sarah opened her mouth, then closed it again. The truth was, she didn’t know. She couldn’t imagine Darren bowing to his family in that way, not after everything he had said and done. But the fear lingered, stubborn as weeds.

Luna leaned forward, her small hands folded on the counter, her voice lower now. “It’s scary, I get it. Meeting his family, telling them how you feel. Terrifying, probably. But just because it’s scary doesn’t mean you shouldn’t do it. If you want to be with him, really be with him, then why not face it head-on?”

Sarah swallowed hard, throat tight.

“I’ll be there,” Luna added with a sudden, mischievous smile. “The whole time. I’ll make sure nothing goes wrong.”

Sarah stared at her, wide-eyed. “You… would?”

“Of course.” Luna’s grin stretched wide. “I’ve been meddling this much already. Why stop now?”

Sarah let out a shaky laugh, part disbelief, part something else. Relief, maybe. Or hope. She shook her head slowly. “I can’t believe I’m even listening to you.”

“You always do,” Luna said smugly.

That earned her a soft shove against the shoulder, though Sarah’s smile betrayed her exasperation.

For a moment, silence returned, but it was softer now, less heavy. Sarah’s gaze drifted toward the door her father had disappeared through, then back to Luna. “You really think it could work? That they might… approve?”

Luna tilted her head, considering. “I don’t know. But what’s the worst that happens? They say no. Darren still chooses you. At least you’ll know you tried.”

Sarah exhaled, long and slow. Her chest felt tight, but not suffocating anymore. More like… the squeeze of standing at the edge of something vast, uncertain, but possible.

Finally, she nodded, just once. “Alright. If… if you’re with me, then… maybe.”

Luna’s grin turned radiant, victorious. “Good. Then it’s settled.”

Sarah laughed weakly, rubbing at her temples. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

“Probably,” Luna agreed, far too cheerfully.

The morning stretched on, filled with quiet murmurs and the clink of dishes as Sarah moved about the lounge, trying to regain her composure. Luna watched her with catlike satisfaction, nibbling the last of a piece of bread she had swiped from the counter.

Plans. Real plans now, not just idle thoughts. Sarah had agreed—reluctantly, nervously, but agreed all the same. That was enough.

By the time the stair creaked, announcing the descent of Darren and one of his fellow knights, Luna was already perched at the counter, legs swinging idly, expression smugly innocent.

Darren stretched as he reached the bottom, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He glanced at Luna, then at Sarah behind the counter, his brow furrowing faintly. Something in the air seemed different, though he couldn’t have said what.

“Morning,” he said, settling onto his usual stool.

“Morning,” Sarah echoed softly, her eyes flicking briefly toward Luna before darting away again.

Luna only smiled, wide and secretive, as though she held the threads of some grand mischief none of them could see.

Because she did.

And Darren, poor Darren, had no idea that by the time they returned to his home, his family would be dragged into the game she had already set in motion.