The Valley of Elden was nothing like the palace. Here, the air smelled of earth and bread, goat fur and ripe apples. The streets were crooked, the houses uneven, but laughter spilled from every corner. Children ran barefoot through mud, merchants shouted over prices, and a fiddler played badly outside the tavern.
Seraphina hated how much she liked it. She sat stiffly in the back of the cart as it jolted down the hill, Myrtle the goat dragging against her rope at every stall they passed. Thalia leaned forward, chatting with the driver like they weren't fugitives. Finn walked alongside, one hand steady on the wheel, the other gripping Myrtle's rope.
"You don't need to follow us," Seraphina said coldly, hood pulled low.
Finn only grinned, tugging Myrtle back from a fruit stand. "Oh, I do. Myrtle likes you. That's rare. She usually only likes grapes and chaos."
Myrtle bleated loudly, lunging at a basket of figs.
Thalia snorted. "Grapes and chaos—sounds like you two have a lot in common."
"Excuse me?" Seraphina snapped.
Finn glanced at her sideways. "Well, you did fall into me like a rolling apple."
Her cheeks heated. "You got in my way."
"Funny. I was standing perfectly still when you crashed into me."
Thalia clapped her hands. "Oh gods, this is better than theater. Keep going, I'll sell tickets."
Seraphina shot her a glare. Thalia only grinned wider.
At last, the cart rattled to a stop in the valley square. Seraphina climbed down, dust clinging to her boots, her pulse still thrumming from the cabbage cart disaster. She hated that she could still feel this boy's hands on her arms, steady and warm.
She hated even more that part of her wanted to.
The market bustled with stalls of grapes, cheese, honey, and bread. Seraphina slowed, watching as a barefoot boy stole a peach and darted into an alley, laughing. No guards chased him. No punishment. Just freedom.
Her chest tightened.
This place felt alive. Dangerous, but alive.
"You don't look like you belong here," Finn said quietly, close enough that she felt his warmth.
She stiffened. "And what does that mean?"
"You walk like the ground owes you something." His smirk was lazy, but his eyes weren't. "Here in the valley, we walk like the ground could swallow us any second."
Her gaze snapped to his. Green fire met storm-dark eyes. "You don't know anything about me."
"True," he said, tugging Myrtle away from another stall. "But I'd like to."
The words slipped under her skin like thorns. She hated that her pulse skipped.
Before she could reply, a familiar voice cut through the din:
"Elly!" Rowan appeared, tall and broad-shouldered, balancing a sack of grain like it weighed nothing. He grinned, nearly tripping over Myrtle. "Thalia! You're alive! And dragging strangers into trouble again, I see."
Thalia lit up. "Rowan!"
Seraphina blinked. Rowan's eyes softened the instant they landed on Thalia. He looked at her the way Finn had looked at… her.
Interesting.
"You two know each other?" Seraphina asked.
"Unfortunately," Thalia said, rolling her eyes.
"Fortunately," Rowan corrected, still smiling like a fool.
Finn groaned. "Please, not another one."
"Another what?" Seraphina asked.
"Another hopeless idiot in love," Finn muttered.
Rowan arched a brow. "Says the one staring at her like she's sunlight."
Seraphina's face flamed. Thalia cackled. Finn cursed under his breath. Before anyone could recover, a horn echoed across the valley. A warning horn. Palace guards. Seraphina froze.
Thalia seized her arm. "We need to move."
Finn's eyes sharpened. He didn't know who this cloaked girl really was, but he wasn't stupid. Trouble followed her like shadows.
"You're not safe," he said, voice low.
Seraphina yanked her arm free. "I don't need you to save me."
"Good," Finn said, stepping back. "Because I'm not the saving type."
Their eyes locked, defiant, burning, neither willing to admit the pull already tying them together.
And just like that, they parted.
Seraphina disappeared into the crowd with Thalia. Finn held Myrtle's rope and watched her vanish, his chest aching like he'd lost something he never had.
Rowan nudged him. "You're gone, aren't you?"
Finn scowled. "Shut up."
But deep down, he knew. He was gone. And the girl in the cloak—whoever she really was—was already dangerous.
±±±±±±
Seraphina pressed herself into the shadow of a crumbling wall, breath sharp in her throat. The guards' boots thundered past, spears glinting as they stormed through the square.
Thalia clutched her sleeve. "Too close. Way too close."
Seraphina exhaled slowly, pulling her hood tighter. "We need to stay hidden until they give up."
"Or," Thalia whispered, grinning despite the danger, "we could buy grapes and pretend to be peasants."
"Peasants don't glare like royalty," Seraphina hissed.
Thalia smirked. "You'll learn."
The guards marched on, their shouts fading into the distance. Only then did Seraphina's shoulders ease. But the echo of a boy's voice lingered in her chest— You're not safe.
She hated how right he might be.
±±±±±±
Meanwhile, across the square, Finn stood with Rowan, Myrtle's rope wrapped tight around his wrist.
"You're staring after her again," Rowan teased.
Finn scowled. "I am not."
"You are. It's written all over your lovesick face." Rowan shifted his sack of grain easily. "Who is she?"
"Don't know," Finn muttered. "Trouble."
Rowan's grin widened. "So…exactly your type."
Before Finn could reply, Myrtle lurched forward.
"Myrtle—!"
The goat lunged at a stall of grapes, teeth sinking into royal produce. The merchant shrieked. Apples toppled in a rolling wave across the cobbles.
Finn groaned, sweat plastering his shirt as he scrambled after her. "For the love of the gods, Myrtle, that's palace fruit. Do you want me executed?"
Myrtle ignored him, bleating proudly with a mouthful of grapes.
Rowan doubled over laughing as Finn juggled apples, rope, and goat in one chaotic mess.
"Hey!" the fruit seller shouted.
"Sorry! Sorry!" Finn shouted to the stallkeeper, bowing awkwardly while Myrtle headbutted another crate. His tool bag slapped against his hip, his dignity unraveling with every second. It was, in short, another ordinary morning in the valley.
And then—bam. Finn collided with someone rounding the corner. They crashed into a cabbage cart, cabbages rolling everywhere. Myrtle bleated in triumph and trotted off with grapes hanging from her mouth.
Ow," the girl muttered.
Finn groaned. "Not again—"
The cloaked girl pushed herself up but she couldn't, hair tumbling free of her hood. Green eyes. Red-gold hair. The same girl. Seraphina.
"You again?" Finn blurted.
Her glare could cut stone. "You really have a habit of being in my way, goat boy."
He sat up, brushing cabbage leaves off his shirt. "Me? You keep crashing into me."
"Maybe you're just bad luck."
"Or maybe," he shot back, grinning despite himself, "you like falling into my arms."
Her cheeks flushed. "Dream on."
But she didn't move right away. And neither did he.