Elara's pov
Mara opened it, and more people came in. Neighbors. They brought food. A pot of thin soup. A few carrots. Some onions. Everyone contributing what little they had.
"We heard there were travelers," one woman said. "Thought you might be hungry."
"This is too much," I protested. "We can't take your food."
"It's already made," another man said. "And you're wet and cold. Eat."
They didn't wait for us to argue. Just started serving the soup into bowls, adding pieces of vegetables, passing it around.
I took a bowl with shaking hands. The soup was thin. Mostly water with a few bits of vegetable floating in it. But it was warm.
And it was given with such generosity. Such quiet grace.
No speeches. No thanks demanded. Just the simple instinct to feed people who were cold and hungry.
I ate with tears in my eyes.
As the evening went on, more people gathered. Someone brought out a simple instrument. A kind of flute, I think. They started playing a slow, sad melody.
The children began to dance despite the rain still falling outside. They splashed in the puddles, laughing and chasing each other.
The adults talked. About crops. About the weather. About neighbors who were sick or struggling. They complained about the taxes. About the collectors who came and took without listening. About promises from the capital that never came true.
But they didn't complain about me. They didn't even know I existed.
I was just Lara. A traveler. No one special.
And it felt... wonderful.
A woman handed me a baby. "Can you hold her for a moment? I need to help with the food."
"Oh, I... yes, of course," I stammered.
The baby was small. Warm. She looked up at me with big eyes and made a little cooing sound.
I held her carefully, terrified I would drop her or hurt her somehow. I'd never held a baby before.
"She likes you," the woman said with a smile. "She doesn't usually take to strangers."
The baby grabbed my finger with her tiny hand and squeezed.
My heart melted.
"What's her name?" I asked.
"Nella," the woman said. "She's six months old."
"She's beautiful," I said.
"She is, isn't she?" The woman's face glowed with pride. "Even if she does keep us up all night crying."
She laughed. And I laughed with her. Not as a queen. Not as someone important. Just as another woman holding a baby.
For the first time since I'd put on the crown, I felt seen without being known.
No one bowed to me here. No one feared me. No one watched their words around me.
They just saw me as a person.
As the night went on, I noticed something strange.
Kaelen was moving through the crowd differently. People kept nodding at him. Not like strangers being polite. But like they recognized him.
An old man touched his shoulder as he passed. A woman smiled at him knowingly. Children ran up to him without fear, like they'd seen him before.
"Kael," one young man said, clasping Kaelen's forearm in greeting. "It's been a while."
"It has," Kaelen said quietly.
"Didn't expect to see you back here," the man said.
"Just passing through," Kaelen said.
The man nodded slowly. "Right. Passing through."
But his eyes said he didn't believe it.
Later, I saw an old man approach Kaelen. He was clearly important here. Maybe the village elder or a priest. He had that air of authority.
"Kael," the old man said. But then he said another name. Something that sounded like "Kal" but different. Foreign. "It's good to see you."
"And you, Elder," Kaelen said, bowing his head respectfully.
"You're taking a risk, coming back here," the old man said quietly. "There are eyes everywhere. Ears too."
"I know," Kaelen said.
"Does she?" The old man glanced at me.
"No," Kaelen said. "And it needs to stay that way."
"Your secret is safe with me," the old man said. "But others remember. Others might talk."
"I'll be gone before they can," Kaelen said.
"Be careful, boy," the old man said. "You've got too much to lose now."
He walked away, leaving me with a thousand questions.
What was Kaelen's real name? Why did these people recognize him? What secret was he keeping?
The night grew late. The fire burned low. Children were carried off to bed, half-asleep in their parents' arms.
Mara made us a place to sleep in the corner. Just some blankets on the floor. Nothing fancy. But it was dry and warm.
"Sleep well," she said. "We'll have breakfast in the morning. Then you can continue your journey."
"Thank you," I said. "For everything. You've been so kind."
"It's what we do," she said simply. "We take care of each other here. It's all we have."
She left us alone. Kaelen and I lay down on the blankets, careful to keep distance between us.
"These people," I whispered. "They have so little. But they gave us everything they could."
"I know," Kaelen said quietly.
"In the palace, we have so much," I continued. "So much food. So much wealth. And we hoard it. We protect it. We never think to share."
"That's how it's always been," Kaelen said. "The rich get richer. The poor stay poor."
"It's not right," I said.
"No," he agreed. "It's not."
I was quiet for a moment. Then, "Those people knew you. They called you by another name. Who are you really, Kaelen?"
Silence.
"I can't tell you," he said finally. "Not yet. Maybe not ever."
"Why not?"
"Because if you knew," he said, "everything would change. And I'm not ready for that."
I wanted to push. Wanted to demand answers. But exhaustion was pulling at me. The long day. The rain. The walking. The emotions. All of it crashed down at once.
My eyes closed. And despite lying on a hard floor in a stranger's house in the middle of nowhere, I felt safer than I ever had in my guarded palace chambers.
I fell asleep to the sound of rain on the roof and the quiet breathing of people I didn't know but somehow trusted.
I woke suddenly.