Morning came softly.
Not with the sharp brightness Aelindra was used to in her old village, but with a muted warmth, sunlight filtered through pale curtains, dust drifting lazily in the golden air. The world outside hummed with gentle life: footsteps, chatter, the creak of wooden wheels rolling past, a pot clattering somewhere as someone prepared breakfast.
Aelindra blinked awake.
For a moment, she didn't move. The blanket was warm. The pillow smelled faintly of lavender and sunlight. It had been a long while since she'd slept somewhere that wasn't drenched in fear or shadow.
She listened.
Her heartbeat was steady.
Her breath even.
It was… peaceful.
A soft knock sounded on the door.
"You awake?" Severin's voice came, quiet but steady.
"Yes."
The door opened, and Severin stepped in. His hair was slightly messy; his tunic slanted from where he'd tugged it on too quickly. But his posture—straight shoulders, steady stance, held firm as always.
"You slept deeply," he said, almost surprised.
"I did."
"Good." His voice softened, just a fraction. "You needed it."
Aelindra sat up. "Is Caelan awake?"
Severin huffed a breath. "He's been awake for hours. I heard him humming while cooking. Badly."
"He hums?" she asked, tilting her head.
"Loudly," Severin added. "With enthusiasm."
Aelindra blinked at the image.
Severin scratched his jaw, something amused flickering in his expression. "He said he'll take us to the market after breakfast."
She nodded. "I would like to see it."
Severin hesitated, barely but she caught it.
"What?" she asked.
"Nothing," he said quickly. Then, more honestly: "I didn't think you'd want to explore."
"Why?"
He paused. "You've been… guarded. Understandably."
"I am still guarded," she said simply. "But I am also curious."
Severin's lips curved slightly. "Yeah. I'm starting to see that."
He stepped back for her to rise. Aelindra moved gracefully, tying her hair back. Severin watched but looked away before she noticed—except she did.
She simply didn't know what to make of it.
Not yet.
⸻
Caelan's Kitchen Chaos
They found Caelan in the kitchen, hovering over a pot with an expression of fierce concentration and mild panic.
"Ah!" he declared as they entered. "My esteemed guests! You arrive just in time to witness my greatest culinary gamble."
Severin peered into the pot suspiciously. "What is it?"
Caelan hesitated. "Food."
Aelindra studied the mixture. "It is burnt."
"Lightly!" Caelan protested. "Charred, not ruined."
Severin stifled a laugh. "You're going to poison us."
"No faith," Caelan sighed dramatically. "Fine. We'll eat bread and fruit. The safe choices. The boring choices. The ones that cannot be improved by fire."
He moved around the kitchen easily, sliding plates onto the table. He handed Aelindra a cup of river mint tea.
"For you," he said brightly. "It's calming."
"I am already calm."
"Then it'll keep you that way."
She stared at him, then accepted the cup.
Severin took his own with a small nod. "Thanks."
Caelan grinned. "See? He's polite. Teach her that next."
Aelindra blinked. "I am polite."
Caelan leaned in. "You tell the truth without cushioning it. That's different."
"She's honest," Severin countered.
"And terrifying," Caelan replied cheerfully. "In a lovely way."
Aelindra considered this. "I am not terrifying."
Caelan coughed. "To some people, you might be."
Severin smirked. "Not to me."
Aelindra looked at him, studying his face quietly, as if she were trying to find the truth behind his words.
He held her gaze without flinching.
Something soft shifted in the space between them, unspoken but present.
Caelan saw it.
And he smiled, just slightly
------
Into the Market
The settlement was even livelier in daylight.
Vendors shouted about fresh produce, weaving baskets, or warm pastries. Children darted between stalls chasing a dog with far too much energy. The river glimmered nearby, sending a soft breeze through the streets.
Caelan walked between Aelindra and Severin, hands in his pockets, posture loose.
"Welcome to our grand marketplace," he announced. "Where everything is slightly overpriced but lovingly made."
Aelindra's attention drifted across every detail: the colors, the textures, the laughter. It felt overwhelming in theory, but not in practice.
She liked this place.
"You're smiling," Severin murmured beside her.
She blinked. "Am I?"
"A little."
She processed this.
Caelan leaned in. "Just a tiny ghost of a smile. Rare. Valuable. Might sell it at a stall if you're not careful."
Aelindra ignored him, though Severin nearly choked on a laugh.
As they moved deeper into the market, the noises softened into something almost rhythmic, waves of laughter, murmured bargaining, the clatter of baskets being set down. Aelindra slowed for a moment, watching a young girl weave tiny flower crowns beside her mother. The girl glanced up and smiled, holding one out shyly.
Aelindra accepted it without quite knowing why.
Severin's eyebrows lifted. "It suits you."
She blinked. "It is small."
"That's why," he said quietly, "it doesn't overwhelm you."
Caelan laughed under his breath. "Careful, Severin. Compliments like that can start wars."
Aelindra touched the petals lightly, unsure why her chest felt warm.
-------
They stopped at a woven-talisman stall. The old woman behind it squinted at them.
"Tired travelers," she declared. "You have the look."
Caelan bowed exaggeratedly. "Morning, Mara. They're new."
"So I see." Mara's gaze flicked to Aelindra. "You carry quiet with you."
Aelindra nodded. "Is that… noticeable?"
"Everything about you is noticeable, dear."
Severin subtly stepped closer to Aelindra, not protective, not possessive, but aware.
Caelan noticed that too.
Mara held up a charm woven from river reeds. "Protection from misfortune. You'll need it."
Severin reached for his coin pouch, but Caelan stopped him with a hand on his chest.
"She's trying to swindle you," Caelan murmured. "Mara, we talked about this."
The old woman scoffed. "I don't swindle. I charm."
Caelan grinned. "You overcharge."
Mara shrugged. "Both can be true."
Aelindra tilted her head. "Does it work?"
Mara paused… then softened. "Sometimes. But mostly because people believe it does."
Aelindra reached out and gently touched the talisman. "It feels… hopeful."
Mara blinked. "You can have it, girl."
"No payment?" Caelan sputtered. "You never give anything without payment."
"You hush," Mara snapped. "This one needs it. I can feel it."
Aelindra accepted the talisman carefully.
Severin watched the exchange with an unreadable expression, something protective, something thoughtful.
Something new.
------
Subtle Shifts
As they continued through the market, Caelan walked close to Aelindra but not too close, always at a respectful distance, always watching without pressing.
He pointed out stalls, introduced them to people, made jokes that had Severin rolling his eyes and Aelindra staring blankly until she realized she was meant to react.
"You explain jokes well," she told Caelan at one point.
He lit up. "Best compliment I've ever received."
Severin muttered, "You've received, like, three compliments in your life."
"Four," Caelan corrected. "My aunt once said I had 'potential' if I didn't ruin everything."
Aelindra blinked. "Did you?"
"Absolutely."
Severin laughed under his breath.
There was a strange balance between the three of them, Aelindra's calm, Severin's steady confidence, Caelan's bright warmth. Together, they formed a rhythm that settled naturally.
But there were undercurrents too.
Caelan's glances toward Aelindra, soft, knowing, restrained.
Severin noticing every single one of them.
Aelindra unaware of both, but feeling something in the air she couldn't name.
The threads between them tightened, quiet, delicate, intentional.
--------
Later, after they'd walked nearly the entire length of the marketplace, Caelan was stopped by a group of men asking for help repairing a broken fence. With a quick apology, he jogged off.
Aelindra and Severin were left standing under the shade of an oak.
Severin looked toward the river thoughtfully. "You're adapting quickly."
"To the market?" she asked.
"To everything," he said softly. "To people. To all this noise."
She considered. "It's different. But not frightening."
He nodded slowly. "Good."
She studied his face. "You seem… calmer too."
He huffed a faint laugh. "Well, nothing tried to kill us today. Yet."
"Does that happen often?"
"More than I'd like."
Aelindra looked back at the settlement. "I like it here."
"You do?"
"Yes."
Severin's face softened. "Then I'm glad we came."
There was something in his voice, warm, low, almost… vulnerable.
Aelindra felt it, though she didn't understand it.
Not yet.
She only knew this:
When Severin stood beside her, she did not feel alone.
⸻
Caelan jogged back, wiping dust from his hands.
"Sorry!" he said breathlessly. "Apparently the fence was attacked by a very aggressive goat. No one was hurt, but the fence died bravely."
"Goats do that?" Aelindra asked.
"Oh yes. They're chaos incarnate."
Severin smirked. "Sounds like someone else I know."
Caelan clutched his chest dramatically. "Wounded."
Aelindra watched them bicker, the warmth in their exchanges, the ease. She felt something settle deep in her chest, something almost like…
Comfort.
Caelan caught her watching and smiled, soft, almost private.
"You look like you're starting to fit here," he said.
Aelindra blinked. "Am I?"
"Yes," Caelan replied quietly.
Severin looked between them, something tightening in his posturenot jealousy, but protectiveness sharpened by awareness.
Three paths had crossed here.
Each one was beginning to bend slightly toward the others.
And none of them noticed yet how tangled they were becoming.
Well, except Caelan.
He saw the threads clearly.
He just didn't pull any of them.
Not yet.