The sun beamed high above, casting a golden warmth over the town. Its rays danced across rooftops and cobbled streets, making the dust shimmer like scattered jewels. The hum of life buzzed through the air.....vendors shouting prices, townsfolk bartering loudly, wheels creaking, and the occasional neigh of horses pulling wagons.
Nerine stepped cautiously into the vibrant chaos. The brightness of the day contrasted sharply with the ache in her body and the heaviness in her heart. She clutched her shawl tightly, eyes flickering between the passing faces, foreign wares, and colorful stalls that lined the marketplace. Her steps were hesitant; everything around her felt unfamiliar.
She weaved through the crowd, careful not to bump into the busy merchants or collide with the horse-drawn carriages that sped by. As she took another glance down the main road, her gaze fell upon a carriage unlike any other...sleek, black, and polished to a gleaming shine. Its wood bore an engraving of a majestic dragon, curling in intricate detail across the door.
"Woooow!,she hasn't seen anything likethis" ,she thought sheepishly.
It looked dark and powerful, even ominous… but something about it pulled her forward like a thread being tugged.
The black carriage trotted through the heart of the market, drawing stares from every direction. Its deep color stood out starkly against the brightness of the day, while the silver-plated hooves of its horses clinked regally against the stone path.
Inside sat a man, relaxed but alert, his arm draped over the side of the seat as he watched the passersby from behind a half-lowered curtain. Lord Kael Blackthorn didn't mind the attention. In fact, he rather enjoyed the whispers and looks his presence always invited. The more people feared or admired him, the less they dared interfere with his business.
With a soft knock on the carriage's roof, Kael signaled the coachman to stop.
The coachman swiftly dismounted and moved to open the door—just as it swung outward, slamming into his forehead with a dull thud.
"Ahh—!"
Kael stepped out, brow arched. "I told you, didn't I? I can open my own door. Why do you insist on sacrificing your head every time?"
The coachman, rubbing his brow, winced. "Yes, Lord Kael…"
Kael sighed and gave him a once-over, wondering if hus coachman was dutiful.....or foolish.
"Go and get that treated before you start bleeding into the horses."he said to him.
The man bowed and scurried off to find help.
Kael adjusted his dark coat and turned toward the crowd.....only to suddenly collide with something soft.
A gasp escaped from below.
Nerine, so enchanted by the carriage, hadn't noticed herself moving closer until she bumped into someone with the weight of a stone pillar. She tumbled backward, landing hard on the ground.
Blinking up, she found herself staring into a pair of intense, silver-blue eyes. They were cold yet strangely mesmerizing. Her breath caught.
Kael looked down at the disheveled girl before him. Dirt smudged her cheeks, and her clothes looked worn from travel. She was clearly not from around here.
He started to reach out a hand to help her.....when she abruptly stood up on her own and dusted herself off.
"I'm sorry—I didn't see you coming," she said in a rush, avoiding his gaze.
Kael, slightly taken aback, gave a curt nod. "You're lucky you didn't knock yourself unconscious," he murmured.
Nerine gave him a brief glance, then quickly turned away, slipping into the moving crowd before her trembling legs gave her away. She risked one last look over her shoulder....and caught his gaze again.
For a brief second, they held each other's stare.
And then she was gone.
Kael frowned slightly, brushing the dust off his trousers with a handkerchief. For some reason, her wide, startled eyes lingered in his mind longer than expected. He chuckled to himself.
"Strange little thing," he muttered. "Still more genuine than anyone I'll meet at that council."
With that, he turned toward the merchant district, brushing aside the memory like smoke.
Nerine exhaled heavily once she was a good distance away. Her heart pounded in her chest. "Stupid, stupid… all that because of a carriage?" she whispered to herself.
She walked for hours, the heat of the day slowly draining her strength. The sun had begun its descent, casting long shadows across the ground. Her legs ached, her feet were sore, and her stomach growled, but she had nowhere to rest...no home, no coin, no direction.
As she rounded a quieter corner near the end of the market road, a distant rumble reached her ears. She turned.
A carriage was speeding toward her. The horses' hooves pounded against the dirt road. Nerine tried to move, but her limbs wouldn't obey. Everything around her spun. Her vision blurred.
Then—darkness.
Inside the carriage, an elegant older woman peered through the window. Her silver hair was tied in a neat bun, and her emerald cloak shimmered faintly in the sunlight while her gloved hands rested neatly in her lap. Her name was Madam Helen, known for her sharp tongue and even sharper generosity.
Suddenly, the carriage lurched to a halt.
"Noah?" she called to her coachman.
"A young girl collapsed in front of the carriage, ma'am!" he shouted back.
Helen opened the door and stepped out, her heeled boots tapping smartly on the ground. A small crowd had gathered in curiosity.
She knelt beside Nerine, brushing a strand of hair from her pale face. The girl was breathing—barely.
Helen turned to her coachman."Noah, carry her into the carriage. We're going home."
"Yes, ma'am."
Gently, the girl was lifted and laid across the padded seat inside. Helen adjusted her herself, cradling the girl's head with care as the carriage began to move again—this time toward a place of safety.