22 - Love

Luna awoke slowly, her eyes fluttering against the light that streamed through the narrow window of her rented room.

She shifted beneath the covers, stretching long like a cat before curling again, her arms wrapped around her pillow.

Her sleeping bag might have been comfortable, yes. Enchanted fabric, soft padding—it was a luxury for any traveler.

But nothing, Luna thought with a yawn, beat a real bed. A mattress that pushed back just right, a pillow that cradled her head, a blanket that seemed to hold her close.

She lingered for a moment, enjoying the rare indulgence, before forcing herself upright. As she stretched, arms raised high until her joints popped, a sharp voice cut through the calm of the morning.

“Sarah! Come with me!”

The shout carried from outside, muffled through walls but insistent enough that Luna stilled mid-yawn. Her brows furrowed.

“Mm?” she muttered to herself. “That didn’t sound friendly.”

Curiosity pried her from bed faster than hunger ever could.

She slipped on her cloak, gathered her pouch, and padded down the wooden stairs, her boots making soft thuds against the boards.

The inn’s lounge—where last night the air had been full of laughter and stew-scent—was strangely empty.

“Huh.” She blinked at the vacant tables and counter. “Where did everyone go?”

Her gaze darted to the door. The muffled noise from earlier had gone quiet, replaced by a faint murmur, as though a crowd were gathered.

With her curiosity now firmly awake, Luna stepped outside.

The morning air smelled of damp earth and hearth smoke.

A small crowd stood just beyond the inn’s porch—farmers, mothers with aprons dusted in flour, children peeking around their skirts. All eyes were fixed on the little drama unfolding in front of the inn.

There stood Sarah, the same young woman who had told Luna the tale of Tierra the night before. Her hair caught the sunlight, but her face was tight with restraint.

Opposite her stood three men, a young man close to Sarah’s age, perhaps a year or two older, flanked by two armored knights.

The young man’s voice rang out again, sharper this time, “Sarah, I’m asking you one last time. Come with me.”

Sarah’s reply was flat, uncompromising. “No, Darren.”

Luna froze on the porch steps, her eyes darting between them. She quickly pieced together what her ears alone could not.

This young man—Darren—was no common villager. His attire was too fine, his boots too clean, his posture too used to command. And knights at his side? He had status. Nobility, most likely.

So why… Luna tilted her head. Why did the air not bristle with fear? Why weren’t the villagers backing away in tense silence?

Instead, the crowd seemed oddly calm, as if this quarrel was familiar. As though Sarah rejecting Darren was not unusual at all.

“Strange,” Luna whispered, tapping her lip. “He’s supposed to be scary, right? Two knights and all that. But no one looks scared. Just… annoyed.”

Sarah’s refusal did not waver, even as Darren’s requests shifted in tone—from command to coaxing, coaxing back to plea.

Until, suddenly, Darren reached forward. He seized Sarah’s wrist.

The crowd tensed at once. Sarah hissed softly, trying to shake him off, but Darren’s grip tightened instinctively, more desperate than cruel.

His brows furrowed in frustration. “Please. Just come with me.”

Sarah winced.

Luna’s lips pressed into a thin line.

Before Darren could release her—before guilt could soften his grip—Luna moved. Her small hand closed firmly around his wrist.

“Let go.”

Her voice, though quiet, carried a weight that made Darren blink.

He turned, startled, to find himself staring down at a little girl with silver hair and an expression that brooked no argument.

And then came the greater shock, the strength of her grip.

“What—?” Darren hissed, jaw tightening as he reflexively pulled, only to find the child’s fingers locked around him like iron.

He let go of Sarah at once.

Sarah’s arm slipped free, and Luna immediately released Darren to turn her attention to her instead. Gently, she took Sarah’s hand, inspecting the faint red mark where his fingers had pressed too hard.

“Are you alright?” Luna asked softly.

Sarah blinked, caught off guard by both the intervention and the concern. “I… yes. It’s nothing.”

Luna shook her head. “It wasn’t nothing. Hands should be gentle.”

She whispered a small incantation, and pale light shimmered from her palm. The mark on Sarah’s skin faded, warmth knitting comfort where pain had lingered.

The villagers murmured among themselves. Darren stared, utterly floored. He had been cautious of Sarah’s defiance, wary of the gossip it stirred, but this? This little girl—this impossibly strong, healing girl—who was she?

Yet even as he tried to study her, his eyes kept straying back to Sarah’s hand. Shame burned in him. He hadn’t meant to hurt her.

“I’m sorry,” Darren said finally, bowing his head. His voice was low, uneven. “Sarah, I didn’t—”

“Then don’t grab like that,” Luna interrupted. She glanced at him, her eyes cool. “Especially not a woman’s hand.”

The crowd shifted, whispers rising. Some villagers smirked, as though silently approving of the scolding.

Sarah’s shoulders softened, a small sigh escaping her. “It’s alright, Darren. Let’s not do this outside.” She turned to Luna, her smile faint but sincere. “Thank you. You shouldn’t have had to step in, but… I’m glad you did.”

“You’re welcome,” Luna said simply. Then, curiosity glittering in her eyes, she asked, “So… who is he?”

Sarah hesitated. “That… is a long story. One I’d rather tell over breakfast.” She reached down, gently patting Luna’s shoulder. “Come inside. My treat, as thanks for helping me.”

At the mention of free food, Luna’s expression brightened instantly.

“Yes,” she said with no hesitation at all.

Sarah turned to Darren and the knights, her tone brisk. “You too. Come inside. You haven’t eaten yet, have you?”

Darren blinked, still stunned, before nodding mutely. His guilt still lingered, making it hard to meet her gaze.

Sarah’s lips twitched into something between fondness and exasperation. She reached up and pinched his cheek. “Don’t sulk. Come.”

He winced, rubbing his face, but he obeyed.

Inside, the warmth of the inn’s lounge returned as they settled in.

Darren took a seat beside Luna at the counter, still occasionally glancing sidelong at her with caution, while the two knights sat at a nearby table, close enough to watch but far enough not to intrude.

Sarah disappeared into the kitchen, promising stew.

Luna, meanwhile, reached into her pouch, pulled out a small wrapped sweet, and popped it into her mouth. Her feet kicked idly against the chair leg as she waited, unbothered by Darren’s stare.

Finally, he cleared his throat. “Who are you?”

Luna tilted her head, chewing. After a long pause, she answered around the sweetness on her tongue. “Just a mage.”

“A mage?” His eyes narrowed. “That’s not an answer.”

“It is,” she said, fishing out another sweet and unwrapping it with exaggerated care. “A mage who’s traveling. That’s all.”

Darren leaned closer, lowering his voice. “No mage—no child—should have a grip like that. You nearly crushed my hand.”

Luna’s lips quirked. “Train enough, and anyone can be strong.”

Privately, she thought of arm-wrestling competitions from her old world, the veins bulging on men who had spent their lives perfecting grip strength.

If they could, why couldn’t she? With stats and magic on her side, it was hardly impossible.

But Darren didn’t look convinced. His suspicion only deepened, though before he could press further, Sarah returned, balancing bowls of steaming stew.

“Eat,” she instructed, setting one in front of each of them.

Luna leaned forward at once, spoon in hand, eyes shining. “Thank you!”

She dug in with the kind of vigor only hunger—or free food—could inspire.

Darren stared at her for a moment, incredulous at how completely she’d shifted her focus, before shaking his head and finally beginning his own meal.

Sarah returned to the kitchen to serve others, leaving the two of them in a strange, uneasy silence.

But Luna didn’t mind. She was too busy savoring the stew, sipping the broth with small, satisfied hums.

When Sarah eventually came back, she found them eating quietly. Darren’s shoulders had eased somewhat, and Luna was smiling between spoonfuls.

The sight drew a small smile from Sarah herself.

It wasn’t until Luna had scraped her bowl clean and reached for her pouch of sweets again that she tilted her head and asked, quite simply,

“So… what’s your story with him?”

Her silver eyes flicked between Sarah and Darren, wide with curiosity.

Sarah blinked, then chuckled softly. “That’s… a long one. Where to even begin?”

Sarah hesitated, her hand resting lightly against the counter.

Her gaze slid toward Darren, who seemed suddenly absorbed in the last remnants of his stew, and then back to Luna, whose expectant eyes sparkled like polished silver coins.

“Where to begin…” Sarah murmured. She exhaled softly, the kind of sigh that carried both reluctance and fondness. “Alright. I suppose the beginning is best.”

Darren shifted, clearly uneasy about what she was about to reveal, but he didn’t stop her.

Sarah folded her hands in front of her. “This is Darren,” she said, her voice even. “Son of Baron Eldwin.”

Luna’s eyes widened. “Ohh. A baron’s son? No wonder you had knights trailing behind you like puppies.”

One of the knights at the nearby table coughed into his hand. Darren’s jaw tightened, though he kept his eyes on the counter.

Sarah allowed herself a faint smile at Luna’s bluntness. “Yes. He was born to a noble house. And me…” Her gaze softened with a touch of nostalgia. “I grew up right here in this village.”

Luna tilted her head, a candy paused halfway to her mouth. “So how did you two even meet?”

“Because my father requested it,” Sarah replied. “When I was fifteen, he asked Baron Eldwin if I could work in his household. He believed that serving in a noble estate would teach me discipline and broaden my view of the world. And since I was close in age to Darren, he thought it might give me a chance to learn from him as well.”

Darren finally looked up, a flash of guilt in his eyes.

Sarah chuckled, though there was no bitterness in her tone. “At the time, I thought it was dreadful. All I wanted was to stay in the village, to help my father, to live quietly. But when I arrived at the estate, Darren was…”

Her lips curved, as if reluctant to admit the next part. “…mischievous.”

Luna’s eyes flicked to Darren, then back to Sarah. “Mischievous how?”

Sarah raised a brow at Darren. “Do you want to tell her?”

He groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Must you—?”

“Yes,” Sarah said firmly, though her smile betrayed her amusement.

Darren leaned back on his stool, muttering, “I was young.”

Sarah, however, was not inclined to spare him. “He played pranks on me. Constantly. Hiding my cleaning supplies, switching the salt and sugar in the kitchen, tying knots in my laundry line. Anything to get a reaction.”

Luna gasped dramatically, clutching her cheeks. “Cruel!”

Sarah laughed softly. “Annoying, certainly. But… he did get my attention.”

Darren flushed crimson, staring hard into his stew as though he could sink into it. “It was childish,” he admitted, voice low. “I just… wanted you to notice me.”

Luna’s lips curled into a sly grin. “So you liked her even back then.”

Darren choked on his spoonful of broth, coughing as the knights at the table pretended very hard not to laugh. Sarah’s cheeks pinked faintly, but she only shook her head.

“Maybe he did. Maybe he didn’t. At the time, I only thought him a nuisance. But…” Her voice softened. “He was kind, too. When the work grew heavy, he’d help me. Quietly, without boasting. He thought I never noticed, but I always did.”

Darren’s shoulders hunched, as though embarrassed by the truth being laid bare.

“And then?” Luna prompted, leaning forward eagerly.

Sarah glanced at the ceiling, gathering her thoughts. “Then I turned eighteen. I left the estate to join a knight academy. Not because I wanted to become a knight, but because I wanted to learn to defend myself. To defend my family. Two years was all I needed. By the end of it, I reached level two, and I decided that was enough.”

“You quit?” Luna asked, frowning slightly.

“I chose a different path,” Sarah corrected gently. “Knighthood demands devotion. Oaths, duty, politics… I never wanted that. I only wanted strength enough to live safely here. So I came back.”

Darren set his spoon down with a clink. His voice was low but firm. “And I thought you were making a mistake.”

Sarah turned to him. “Darren—”

“You could have gone further,” he interrupted. His hands curled into fists on the counter. “You had the talent. More than half the academy. You should have finished. We could have—” He stopped himself abruptly, biting down on the words.

The silence stretched. Sarah’s expression softened, but her reply was steady. “That wasn’t the life I wanted.”

The tension was palpable, a quiet storm beneath the surface.

And then Luna, entirely oblivious—or perhaps entirely unconcerned—blurted, “Wow. You really like her.”

The words fell into the room like a pebble into a pond, rippling through the silence.

Darren froze. His knights gawked. Sarah’s lips parted in shock.

Finally, Darren exhaled sharply through his nose, shoulders stiff. “And what if I do?” he muttered.

Sarah’s eyes closed briefly, her expression pained. “Darren…”

“You already know, Sarah.” His voice trembled with restrained emotion. “You’ve always known. I don’t want anyone else. I never have.”

Luna munched quietly on a candy, watching the drama unfold as though it were a theater play.

Sarah turned her gaze away, her hand tightening against her skirt. “You shouldn’t.”

“Why not?” Darren’s voice cracked like a whip, startling the inn into silence. He leaned forward, eyes burning. “Tell me why not.”

Sarah’s reply was soft, but no less sharp. “Because you’re the son of a baron. And I’m the daughter of a farmer. Nobles don’t marry villagers, Darren. You know this.”

His jaw clenched. “I don’t care.”

“But I do.”

The words landed heavy. Darren’s chest heaved once, twice, as though struck. Slowly, he pushed back from the counter.

“I can’t—” He cut himself off. Shaking his head, he stood abruptly. Without another word, he strode toward the door.

His knights scrambled after him, casting confused glances back at Sarah and Luna before following their young lord outside.

The door shut behind them, and silence filled the space. Only the crackle of the inn’s hearth and the faint clatter of dishes in the kitchen broke it.

Luna sucked thoughtfully on a candy.

Sarah exhaled, her shoulders slumping. She pressed her palms flat on the counter and forced a small smile for Luna’s sake.

“Sorry you had to see that,” she said softly.

Luna tilted her head. “So you like him too.”

Sarah froze.

Luna pointed her sweet like an accusing finger. “You didn’t deny it.”

Sarah’s lips twitched, as if caught between a sigh and a laugh. Finally, she admitted, “I do. I always have. But some things… are impossible.”

“Why?” Luna asked, genuinely puzzled. “If you like him, and he likes you, then that should be enough.”

Sarah shook her head, her expression wistful. “Love is never that simple. There are walls. Expectations. His family would never allow it. And I—” She looked down, her voice dropping. “I don’t want to be the reason he’s forced to choose between his duty and his heart.”

Luna leaned her chin on her hand, considering this gravely. “But if two people who love each other can’t be together… then what’s the point of love?”

Sarah smiled sadly. “Sometimes love means letting go.”

Luna didn’t reply right away. She simply studied Sarah’s face, the softness in her eyes, the pain hidden beneath her calm.

Finally, Luna slid off her stool. She gave Sarah a quick, mischievous smile. “Don’t worry. I’ll fix it.”

Sarah blinked. “Fix—?”

But Luna was already padding toward the stairs, waving over her shoulder. “Thanks for the stew! It was delicious!”

Sarah frowned after her, confused. Then she shook her head, muttering under her breath, “That girl…”

Upstairs, Luna entered her room and shut the door behind her. For a moment she simply stood by the window, her small hands pressed against the sill, her thoughts racing.

She pictured Sarah’s sad smile. Darren’s clenched fists. The unspoken feelings brimming between them like water in a glass, threatening to spill but never allowed to.

“No,” Luna said firmly. “That’s dumb.”

She pushed the window open. The afternoon air swept in, cool and refreshing.

“If they like each other, then they should be together. Walls, status, families—who cares?” Her lips curved into a sly grin. “I’ll just knock those walls down.”

She climbed onto the windowsill, her silver hair catching the moonlight.

“Sorry, Sarah,” she whispered with mock solemnity. “I’m definitely going to meddle.”

And with that, she leapt outside of the window, her cloak billowing, her eyes already fixed on one goal, finding Darren.