Chapter 19
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Edwin delivered the attackers to the guards before guiding Rina from the shadowy lane.
Light grew stronger with every stride they took.
Soon enough, the lively festival road came into view once more.
“Looks like hours have slipped by,” Rina murmured, eyeing the sparse gathering and vendors folding their booths.
Edwin caught her words amid the quiet that had lingered from their brief trek back. He broke it deliberately.
“Time to get you home.”
Weariness clung to Rina after the ordeal, her purple gaze hazy with fatigue.
At least the earlier scare hadn’t bred distrust toward him.
“Let me walk you there.”
Regret over his sharp intensity earlier tugged at Edwin, easing only as he made the suggestion.
Rina, drained from the chaos, agreed without protest.
Midnight hush blanketed the paths they shared.
Normally chatty, she stayed mute from exhaustion, wrapping them in stillness.
Edwin fumbled for conversation starters without success until Rina’s neighborhood on Indar Street appeared.
Her face lifted at the sight of that green rooftop.
Unnoticed by him, shadows crossed his features.
Parting loomed when words finally came.
“Oh yeah, that meal I owed you.”
He mentioned it casually, like a fresh recollection.
“I’d blanked on it entirely,” she replied, stunned, as if the outing belonged to distant memory.
A subtle grin touched Edwin’s lips in echo of hers.
Warmth fluttered inside his ribs once again.
He drew in air, released it softly to settle the prickle.
Relief edged in, though doubt lingered.
Right as goodbye neared, impulse pushed him further.
“Care for a do-over?”
Surprise rounded her eyes at the bold ask.
No hint of rejection showed, though.
Drive surged anew within him.
“Free tomorrow?”
The question tumbled out insistent; regret hit instantly.
“Something’s already planned then.”
Her voice carried reluctance.
“What about the following day?”
He ventured softer now.
“Work calls me then.”
She deflected gently too.
Defeat sealed his lips after two rebuffs.
“The day beyond that works for me. You available, Sir Rojas?”
A timid grin accompanied her counter.
Edwin grasped the chance, clasping her offered palm.
Plans locked in, she announced her exit with a wave.
Her small frame receded, evoking a scampering squirrel in his mind.
Overhead, bursts of fireworks lit the sky—perhaps some lord’s excess or a stray spark.
Dawn barely broken, I set off for the temple alongside Connie.
Even the tiniest scrap of holy essence brought solace, Rina reflected.
Connie, blinking away sleep, observed as Rina offered payment and claimed a blessed token.
“Why hit the temple at this hour?”
Connie hissed the query once the vendor priest turned aside.
“Lately, trouble’s piling up.”
Rina sighed the admission.
Awareness sharpened in Connie’s stare.
“Anything go down?”
Her eyes flicked to the dressing peeking from Rina’s neckline.
Rina shared yesterday’s drama in hushed tones, skipping harsher bits to spare alarm, yet Connie recoiled as if death had brushed close.
“Sir Rojas being there saved the day.”
Connie quivered at story’s end.
Rina dipped her head, and Connie leaned in gravely.
“Word is, ex-soldiers stir chaos all over.”
“Guards are stepping up, though—things ought to calm.”
A decade of conflict had scarred finances and society deeper than the last ruler’s early days. Yet Laurel Crown’s integration sparked optimism for recovery.
Rina pondered that patience alone would mend it; catastrophe loomed nowhere.
While her mind wandered, Connie scanned the queue at the temple’s charity broth stand, then fished in her pockets.
“Conscience won’t shut up today.”
She grumbled, slipping a gold piece into the offering chest—her pay stash seeing rare action.
Rina added several silvers from her own purse.
“Hope the temple funnels every bit to the needy.”
Connie voiced the wish boldly, offending any cleric nearby.
“Volume control,” Rina cautioned, but glares already pinned them.
She tugged Connie’s elbow, hurrying out.
Blocks away, with the temple shrunk to a dot, Connie boasted of purpose.
Bluff shone through plain.
“I projected for all to catch. No secret the temple pockets half for ‘divine’ use.”
Orphanage scars from temple hands fueled her gripe.
“True, half does aid the destitute.”
That kept the institution entrenched.
Rina mused its decay proved too embedded to excise easily.
Operational expenses and cleric wages justified the skim; corruption fell short of villainy. Rumors understated the rot, in truth.
“Without them, aid grinds to halt.”
A forthcoming saintess promised to purge the rot, besides.
Rina soothed her friend.
Some clerics shone, like the one who’d linked Connie to patrons.
Connie yielded to logic despite distaste, pulling a silly grimace at the distant spires before trailing quietly.
Ease softened her as festival clamor beckoned.
“Feels forever since a real celebration.”
Rina had wandered it yesterday, but Connie’s debut sparked her thrill.
Sir Rojas companionship charmed differently than Connie’s vibrant energy.
Trinket-laden bags dangled from wrists as hunger pulled them to snack vendors.
Chilled fruit drinks came first.
Clouds chilled the air, yet thirst nagged post-stroll.
Big swallows down, true appetite roared.
A savory spot drew Rina’s notice.
She steered Connie to yesterday’s skewer stand.
Coins exchanged, Rina passed over two sticks; Connie chomped, signaling approval with a raised thumb.
“These hit the mark.”
Munching meat and charred onions, Connie probed offhand.
“Sir Rojas tag along here yesterday?”
Rina dabbed sauce away, mumbling agreement.
“Yup, same stall was firing then.”
Awareness struck post-answer.
She’d triggered Connie’s teasing nerve.
Heat bloomed on her face.
Awkward glance revealed Connie paused mid-bite, smirking triumphantly feline.
“Gotcha good.”
Rina yelped at the vagueness; Connie elaborated slyly.
The tease proved milder than feared, but truth stayed unspoken.
Rina pouted fierce denial.
Connie ignored every plea.
“Festival strolls for mixed company, munching snacks? That’s date territory by our rules.”
Glee fueled her barrage of teases.
“Wedding bells when?”
“Love spark hit when?”
Rina parried solidly.
“Whose nuptials we plotting?”
“Nothing like that stirred yet.”
Ironclad, she vowed silence on the pending Rojas rendezvous forever.
