The Hidden Heir's Love

9: Talk

He had a fruitful harvest. He and Srugor would have more than enough to pass the winter and perhaps even for more seasons. To be honest, if he has anything else to do in this place other than attending to the plantations, he could have let their stocks get consumed first before he starts planting again. But then it was the complete opposite. He does not have anything to keep him occupied, therefore, it is one of the few he sets his attention to. At least, it is beneficial for him and his father.

Ragar was stretching his limbs, trying to ease his muscles from all the work he has done throughout the day when he noticed the wounded woman walking out to the patio at a slow pace. Her right arm might still be in pain but at least, there is progress. After their row yesterday, he tried his best not to cross ways with her, taking his attention solely on the harvest. He does not like how she has addressed the matter of her disagreement about him not choosing any side of the war. She could have talked to him about it plainly rather than purposely ignoring his efforts for her.

All their disagreement said and done, he would eventually be relieved from her soon. Three days have already passed and she would leave once Srugor gives her the go sign. He does not know what will happen next and he admits he is bothered once she takes her leave in Alhalla. Still injured, she would venture back to Sinag where men would not hesitate to raise their weapons on her—a stranger roaming around. He could not deem to settle his mind with the thought of her in utmost danger when he could have prevented it from happening.

Wiping the sweat on his face and neck, he puts his shirt on one shoulder before walking his way back to the house, already done for the day. The woman has seated on one of the chairs near the rails—did not even think of occupying Srugor’s rocking chair in the corner which has the most comfortable seat and view of the pavilion. She mayhap has already felt Srugor’s odd treatment around her and would not want to cross the man, therefore, she avoids whatever is related to him.

Ragar stomped his feet by the stairs to remove the dirt that got stuck on his shoes before he ascended completely. He was about to pass and leave the woman be but it was she who initiated a conversation that urged him to halt.

“I apologize for being rude and seeming to be ungrateful for the help the two of you have given me,” she said. “I wouldn’t survive if it weren’t for your help. I am thankful beyond measure and I would repay your kindness when I could.”

He turned and looked at her, seeing her still impassive despite lowering her pride to finally talk to him. But then even when she woke up, she has been like this. Her face is always schooling a blank look that is making him hard to decipher whatever it is she is thinking.

“Let us start with what your name is, shall we?” he asked, turning completely to face her. “I already told mine and you haven’t said yours. You are going to leave soon yet I do not even know your name.”

The woman nodded, understanding this move of his as crossing the line between formality and awkwardness. “My name is Sierra.”

“And where are you from, Sierra?”

“Sinag,” she simply said, not wanting to add more when it is apparent that she is from around here.

“I found you in such an awful state, care to tell me what happened?”

“The kingdom is at war. I am surprised you haven’t met people in the same state as I did.”

He shook his head at how vague her answers are. He leaned by the railing and crossed his arms to cover his bare chest even if the woman is not looking, does not seem to care about modesty.

“It's because we do not harbor people who will cause us great pains afterward. As much as possible, we do not give aid to any warriors, only those who are dressed in plain clothes and suffering from an illness not brought by swordfights or explosions."

"Yet you helped me," she said.

"I did and to tell you honestly, I am starting to suspect what your true identity is. I would have heeded my father’s advice on kicking you out but you were weak and I am not one cold-hearted person as to do that.”

Finally, Sierra turned her head to look at him. “I am not weak,” she said plainly as if that is what matters from all the things he just said.

He sighed. Finding it hopeless to talk to her further, he was about to head inside when Sierra said something he did not expect to come from her lips.

“This place is very beautiful. It must have been very nice to stay here.”

He shrugged. “I feel the complete opposite,” he replied, forced to lean on the railing again. “If you have lived here all your life, you will tire of this place one way or another.”

“Maybe,” she said. “But now, all I feel is appreciation.”

His eyes went to the view around them—on the beauty that it beholds and the serenity it gives. But no matter how much he wants to stay contented where he is now, there is still a deep wanting on going further away from home, to experience what more life could offer.

"Alhalla is said to be close to the gods. It is too ethereal to be meant for us, humans. Rare monsters live here and the water from the falls has its healing powers," he said proudly yet despite it, he still wants to leave this paradise.

“Could you give me a tour?” Sierra suddenly asked. “I leaving tomorrow. It would be nice to have a memory of this place in store with me when I go back to the real world, to the real situation the kingdom is facing.”

He wetted his lips as his eyes went to the woman who seemed to be consumed with the place. Seeing her now in this calm demeanor as she looks at their surroundings, he cannot help but agree with what she wanted to do.

“Let’s go then.”