"What actually happened back there?"
Josselyn's voice was soft, almost as if she were speaking to herself.
Sebastian lay quietly beneath the tree, his breathing now far more stable. It stood in stark contrast to his condition just moments ago.
"That is exactly what I want to know," Howarth replied coldly. "Because that was clearly not ordinary healing."
Josselyn stared at her own hands. They still felt warm. The strange sensation had not completely faded.
"I did not do anything," she murmured. "I only followed his instructions."
"And that is exactly why I dislike that man even more. He is far too suspicious," Howarth cut in.
The man in the red hood now stood a few steps away from them. Silent, as if he had no interest in joining the conversation.
"But he helped," Josselyn said, looking at Howarth. "If it were not for him—"
"Sebastian would still be alive," Howarth interrupted quickly. "Yes. But that does not mean we can trust him."
Josselyn exhaled.
"I am not saying we should trust him. But we do not have a choice."
Howarth did not answer immediately. His gaze shifted toward Sebastian, then back to the hooded man.
"There is always a choice," he said quietly. "Some are simply more dangerous than others."
"Then choose the one most likely to save him," Josselyn replied without hesitation.
"I have already done my part."
The voice cut through their exchange.
Josselyn turned quickly.
The man in the red hood finally spoke again. His tone remained flat, devoid of emotion.
"Now it is your turn."
Howarth narrowed his eyes.
"Straight to the point. You will not even give your name." A faint smile tugged at his lips, masking his unease. "What do you want?"
"Her."
The answer was short. His gaze fell on Josselyn.
Instinctively, Howarth stepped forward, placing himself in front of her.
The hooded man smiled faintly.
"I only need her for a while," he continued, as if unbothered. "To get a carriage."
"Is the village far?" Josselyn asked.
"Frostmere Village. Not far from here," he replied.
Josselyn and Howarth exchanged a glance. It was the same village they had mentioned earlier.
So he really is not a bad person, Josselyn thought.
"Your horses are badly injured. It is not possible to continue the journey," the man added, gesturing with his gaze.
Josselyn looked around. He was right. The horses lay collapsed, some wounded, others already dead. The same went for the soldiers who had been traveling with them.
A sharp ache spread through her chest as she thought of the soldiers who had sacrificed themselves to protect her.
Especially when she caught a faint movement from a few of them lying on the ground, blood scattered everywhere.
They are still alive. We need to get them treated immediately, Josselyn thought.
"And why must it be her?" Howarth's sharp voice broke her thoughts.
He appeared calm, but his jaw was tight.
"Because I do not invite royal troops into my village," the man replied without hesitation. "One person is easier to accept than dozens of soldiers."
"That is not an answer."
"It is the only answer you need."
Silence fell again.
Josselyn bit her lip. Her gaze lingered on the chest of one of the fallen soldiers, hoping it would continue to rise and fall.
"I will go," she said at last.
Howarth immediately turned to her. "No. Not alone, Josselyn."
"Then what about Sir Sebastian? He cannot be left here alone."
Howarth looked back at Sebastian. "One of the soldiers should go with you."
Josselyn stepped closer.
"Sir, I will return as quickly as possible," she said more softly. "Besides…" she hesitated for a moment, "…there is something I want to know."
"Howarth," Sebastian spoke weakly, his eyes still closed. "Let her go."
Howarth let out a long breath.
"You know what will happen to us if you get hurt, do you not? Killian will kill both of us."
"He will not," Josselyn cut in quickly. "I am not that important to him."
Howarth opened his mouth as if to say something, but then closed it again. Their gazes met for a few seconds.
Then he stepped back.
"Go," he said finally. "And come back before I change my mind."
Josselyn nodded.
The hooded man had already turned toward his horse.
"Come."
Josselyn followed without another word.
---
The journey began in silence.
Josselyn sat behind him, keeping as much distance as she could.
"Excuse me, sir. You have not told me your name," she finally said.
"Kael. You can speak more casually with me," he replied.
Josselyn did not respond right away. At this close distance, she could clearly see his face. He was not her age. She could even make out a few strands of white hair beneath his hood.
"Why? Because I am a few years older than you?" he scoffed lightly. "I told you, you are not a stranger. I knew your mother."
That was exactly what Josselyn had wanted to ask.
"How long did you know her?"
Her voice came out sharper and faster than she intended.
"Not long. But long enough to know a few things about you." Kael glanced back slightly, a faint smile forming on his lips. "Althea talked about you often."
Josselyn's breath caught. If her mother spoke of her often, then this man must have been close to her.
The sky began to turn orange, while a gentle breeze carried the scent of earth and leaves.
"Your mother once hid in my village," Kael said suddenly.
Josselyn stiffened.
"When?"
"A few years before she was captured."
Josselyn stared at his back. A flicker of memory surfaced. Her mother running toward Uncle Edmund's house while carrying her. After that, everything blurred.
"She fled from the palace at the time," Josselyn murmured, just loud enough for Kael to hear.
"And the royal troops searched for her," Kael continued. "All the way to our village."
Josselyn fell silent.
"My village was torn apart," he said flatly. "Houses were searched. People were interrogated."
"That was not—"
"Not Althea's fault," Kael cut in. "I know."
His tone held no blame, but no forgiveness either.
"That is why you did not bring them, the palace group?"
"Yes. The village chief has already received a notice from the palace. And many of the villagers objected to their presence."
Josselyn swallowed. A quiet fear crept into her chest.
"Will they recognize me too?"
"Maybe yes, maybe no." Kael shifted his gaze slightly. "You resemble your father more. But your eyes are exactly like your mother's. That is how I recognized you."
Normally, Josselyn would feel shy being told she resembled her parents. But this time, she almost wished she did not. A second later, guilt followed that thought.
"Will they hate me too?"
"Some will."
The honest answer made her chest tighten.
"But not all," Kael added. "Some owe your mother."
Josselyn frowned. "Owe her?"
"She healed their family members."
Josselyn nodded. "That is normal. She was an alchemist."
Kael shook his head. "Not like that."
Josselyn tilted her head. "What do you mean?"
Silence stretched for a few seconds, filled only by the rhythm of the horse and the wind.
Was my voice too soft, Josselyn wondered. Kael's silence only made her more curious.
"The ability you used earlier," Kael finally said.
"That is not mine," he continued. "And not something I can lend."
Josselyn froze. For a moment, she forgot how to breathe.
"I do not understand."
"It is not that you do not understand," Kael said quietly. "You are just not ready to accept it."
He pulled on the reins, and the horse turned, entering a settlement.
Josselyn straightened.
The sky had darkened, but the streets were still busy with people passing by. As Kael slowed the horse, he said softly,
"We have arrived. Welcome to my village, Frostmere."
Josselyn swept her gaze around. The village remained pristine. Cool, shaded, and peaceful.
"I can understand why they object to the presence of the palace group. That incident must have left a deep mark on them."
Kael pulled the reins until the horse came to a full stop in front of a large building, likely the largest in the village.
"Peace and comfort are highly valued here," he replied.
Before Josselyn could respond, a loud voice suddenly broke the calm.
"There they are!"
"People from the palace!" another voice followed.
"Why did they still come?!"