He smiles at me, which, in my sorry state, really tempts me to punch him straight in the face.
“I’m not patronizing you. Truly, you did a remarkable job. You stopped the initial attack from hitting. Well done.”
I no longer want to punch him in the face. Now, I’m just confused.
“But…I ran away. I put myself in danger, and you had to rescue me, all because I panicked.”
“You running away actually provided me with the perfect opportunity to kill the thing,” Aurelio says, kneeling by my side. He brushes a piece of hair out of my face with shining eyes. “Thank you. You saved my life and set me up for a perfect shot.”
My eyes dart to his lips. “Aurelio…I didn’t do any of that on purpose. I got lucky.”
“Then maybe you’re my lucky charm.”
He leans down and kisses me, sending a shiver down my spine—this time, one that warms me up from head to toe. When he pulls back to look at me again, the smile on his face could warm polar ice caps.
“You did amazing for your first real piece of action. You have the reaction time of a stellar adventurer. And I have to say,” he adds, winking, “you’re even hotter facing off against monsters than you are training with me.”
That’s it. My brain breaks. I don’t have any more words, so I grab his collar and yank him closer for another kiss. Just so he knows how much I hate his stupid face. Not because he has me swooning or anything.
Chapter twelve
Aurelio
Ihave to admit; I didn’t see that kiss coming. It’s the highlight of my week. I’ve fallen even further for her, and I have no plans to stop. She made me feel like a hero even when she was the one that blocked the initial attack, the one that could have ended us both. I’ve been riding on that high the entire week. Daelia’s been in a good mood, too. She got to take out four total wendigos on the way to Krasta, a series of battles that “finally worked up a sweat after those boring missions.”
I thought facing off against one wendigo was terrifying, but to each their own, I guess. I’m just glad Alessia didn’t get hurt.
After a week of watching Alessia avoid me, chat for hours with her sister, fall asleep in my arms, and wake up totally embarrassed, only to repeat the cycle all over again, I’m almost glad to have arrived in Krasta’s territory. Maybe here I’ll finally get a break from my indecisive, overly emotional wife long enough to read a good book.
But seeing the state of the village in front of me?
I highly doubt this will be a fun visit.
“…We’re in Krasta, right?” Alessia asks.
“Yes, we crossed into their territory yesterday morning,” Daelia confirms.
“Then what the hells happened here?”
I would like to ask the same question myself. This is only a small village on the outskirts of the kingdom, so it’s natural for it to be a poorer community, but it should at least have flourishing farmland surrounding the village. That’s how all the kingdoms on this side of the world are set up: farmland villages on the outskirts, and an enormous, highly populated capital in the center. The wealth should make it back to the farmers even if the technology never reaches them; they have to have funds to grow the kingdom’s food supply, after all.
But this village looks on the brink of collapse.
The village is only a few dirt paths with a collection of dilapidated, weathered, and damaged one-bedroom homes lining both sides. I spot multiple collapsed roofs, broken windows, doors hanging off hinges, sinking foundations, and rotting wooden siding. Weeds and plain grasses have taken over the area beyond the village that was once farmland. Broken farming equipment is scattered across the land, and within the village, I only see rickety old carts and wheelbarrows turned on their sides, their contents damaged or shattered. The traditional farm working animals, such as horses, oxen, and donkeys, are nowhere to be seen. There’s only a skinny flock of chickens roaming about the village and a couple of stray cats that have seen better days.
The villagers don’t look much better; children run around with mud-smeared faces, and adults sit and murmur darkly together on the front porches that remain intact. Their garments are either falling apart or patchworks of multiple brown and white cloth materials; none of them wear anything even remotely close to the traditional work clothing of outdoor laborers from Celestia. I see almost no elderly folks in the village, and those that I pick out from a distance appear sickly. Disease probably wiped them out prematurely, I gather.
Alessia dismounts from her horse, leading him into the village ahead of us. I exchange a look with Daelia, and the both of us dismount to tail closely behind. I watch the villagers as we enter the village, monitoring their curious gazes for any sign of defensive aggression. The children stop playing their games of tag to stare at us with wide eyes, and the adults look at us with dark, unreadable expressions.
“Where is your village leader?” Alessia calls. Her voice echoes in the empty space between houses.
“Who is asking?”
My head snaps to my left, down a side street that connects two of the main village pathways. Out of the shadow of an abandoned home emerges an older woman. Her hair is graying, but it still contains streaks of deep brown. Her sturdy stature tells me she is a lifelong farmworker, but the pallidness of her skin also tells me it’s been a long time since she’s had a proper meal. Her cheekbones are more prominent than is natural, and her eyes are slightly sunken into her head, casting shadows over her prematurely wrinkled face.
The stress of leading this village must be insane, I note to myself.
“My name is Queen Alessia Moonbreaker of the Holy Kingdom of Celestia,” Alessia replies. “I am here to introduce myself to our allied kingdoms, and to establish good relations during my reign over Celestia.”
