The Hidden Heir's Love

6: Woman

As soon as Sierra opened her eyes, she was on full alert with her surroundings—looking at her body that was now stripped off of her black clothes and only wearing a long white undergarment—but the pain in her right arm was excruciating that her attention was immediately divided. Taking in a sharp breath, she looked down at her wound and saw it had already been tended with. The gauze has a wet spot of brown, the smell of herbs entering her nostrils. She was about to check, already reaching for it when she heard someone in the room.

"You shouldn't be moving, woman," the person hissed and her eyes immediately darted to the man sitting across her.

His cane was placed right between his open legs, his long hair reaching his knees, and his face looks forlorn but was soon changed with rage.

"Troublesome," he uttered before slowly standing up.

"Where am I?"

The man went to a table where she saw different bottles and herbs are placed. Reaching one of the leaves, the man felt its texture before taking it close to his nose and inhaling it. Staring at him more attentively, she realized that he was blind.

Blind.

"You lot are coming here while I live peacefully and you have the audacity to question where in the world you are?" he asked, clearly pissed off.

It was clear from that and from his appearance that he was the great Seer everyone was talking about and this place is Alhalla—his sanctuary after his exile. She just wasn't expecting he would look this young—as if he is at the same age as her.

Slowly, she pushed herself up, leaning her back on the headboard with her eyes still pinned on the man who is occupied with making the medicine. From her memory, he is not the man who has saved her. It was very clear that her savior has striking blue eyes and as she observes the man she is with, she wonders how she was able to get here when he is not the one who saved her.

Does her savior know the Seer?

The place he resides is not known publicly but few who know it are certain to have been cured from this holy place or by him—the reason why she has come here.

"Thank you for helping me," she said when the Seer got close, a small bowl with the herbs on hand.

"I shouldn't have to," he replied. "If I would be the one to decide, I wouldn't help you at all."

His bluntness is not something she expects but then, there are many traits about him that have taken her aback—his age, his appearance, his obvious dislike of her.

She just kept her silence as the Seer takes off the gauze from her arm. His hands were light even when he could not see. He takes out the herbs and applies the fresh ones he just made. She was occupied with watching the man do his work that she failed to notice the other presence in the room. It was only when the Seer raised his head and spoke did she noticed the man leaning by the door.

"Are you finished?"

She was taken aback, seeing the other man with her mind no longer hazy from the pain and exhaustion.

Was this surprise she is feeling because she is genuinely not expecting to see him—her savior? Or is it just plainly because of how he manages to move so discreetly?

"Yes," the man answered, his voice deep that the memory of him saving her had snuck in on her mind again, "Good evening, Miss. You are badly hurt. Let me take you to our home."

She is feeling something unfamiliar inside her that she could only blame the medicine the Seer has given her and whatever effects it brings. This only started when Aliyah held her, making her all confused up until now.

"I'll put the crops in storage by tomorrow," the man continued.

"Can't you do it now?" the Seer asked.

The man shakes his head as he walks close to them. "If I do that now, you'll be burdened even more from attending our guest." Then looks at her and she dared not look away from him, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of her backing down from his gaze. He slightly bowed his head before breaking their eye contact to look back at the Seer. "Do you still have things that you want me to do?"

"Unfortunately, there is none."

The man did not comment more and just helped the Seer stand up and guided him out of the room.

Now, that they are alone, she cannot help but be more alert. This man and his silent movements are not sitting well on her. There are only a few who she could not detect immediately—her brother and Lord Sergio. But it is understandable since they are great warriors such as she. Meanwhile, this man, who looks more like a farmer than anything else, manages to keep out of her senses so easily.

"Who are you?" she cannot hold herself from asking.

The man was cleaning up the Seer's mess. She observed him further since he wasn't looking. His build was clearly enhanced by his days in farming, his hair tied in a braid and his clothes were all furs and animal skin stitched together, made to adapt to this environment he lives in.

When she looked up, she was taken aback that he had his eyes on her already.

She gritted her teeth and held her ground, disliking the man's composure while she is in a confusing state.

"I am Ragar Annister," he said. "I live here with the Seer."

“Annister?" She gritted her teeth. "What is your relationship with the Seer?”

Ragar smiled. “I am his son,” he stated as if that information is not something surprising at all.

"You're his son?" she repeated.

"I am."

"I did not know the Seer actually had a child," she said, still looking at him in deep scrutiny. "And he looks like he is the same age as I."

"The Seer never ages," he stated which is something she did not know. He nodded, confirming what he just said. "He does not age. He has been with the line of Kings of Sinag starting from the First Great War.”

“What?”

The man raised a brow. “I am surprised you don’t know this.”

He is not smug about it but she still dislikes that he knows something she does not. For years, she has been training and learning even the history of different kingdoms. Sergio made sure they are literate and knowledgeable in different aspects. A sharp mind makes a mission easier—being able to accomplish it even when things did not come to what they have anticipated.

“It’s because no one speaks of people who are exiled. It is a taboo topic no one dares to open up and other than that, there is a war going on. We do not bother ourselves with matters that hold no meaning on what needs more attention at the moment,” she stated and the man actually had the nerve to smirk.

“That’s a good thing then.”

There is nothing amusing about what she said. A person who finds exile and war fun is clearly someone whose views are twisted or just lacks the experiences necessary to understand that they are dreadful events. Despite it, she did not say anything. She would rather keep her mouth shut than start a spoken disagreement with a stranger while she is in a vulnerable position.

“No one really knows much about us since my father has been exiled,” he continued. “We keep out the way so no war could ever reach us. That is, unless the visitors we entertain start wagging their tongues of our location." His sight pinned her still. "You wouldn't do that, would you?"

"Your secret is safe with me," she said, giving him a brief nod though she is not certain if she would be true to it.

Should Sergio ask where she has been, she might tell her Master out of her blind devotion to him.

Ragar looked down at her covered arm. "I am curious why you have acquired such wounds. The poison was extremely lethal and it could have killed you. Good thing Srugor is knowledgeable enough to create antidotes on such things."

She wetted her lips after looking away from him. "My business is mine alone to deal with. You need not concern yourself about it."

Ragar does not look offended at all. In fact, he even sat down on the chair where Srugor once occupied and checked the gauze the man has tied around her arm. He looked up at her before loosening the gauze and tying it better.

“You will heal in three days' time,” he said which she did not like hearing at all. “That is what the Seer told me.”

Three days is a long time. For certain, Kierran would have a difficult time explaining to the Master why she had been gone for that duration after a mission and the Master is not one to be fooled.

“Can’t I heal earlier?”

“The poison cannot be washed off easily. You need to rest more, not exert your energy on matters of war. Srugor would continuously apply the herbs on your arm so that the poison would not spread even more. Honestly, even three days are not enough for most people to recover from wounds of such severity but based on how fast you regain your consciousness, the Seer concluded that three days are what it shall take.”

“Can’t the Seer just tell me what the herbs are and I’ll find them so I could apply them myself?” she said.

“Don’t you want to rest?” he asked. “This might only be your chance to rest your mind. War does not reach here at all—”

“I have more important things to do than rest, Sir,” she said and tried to push herself to rise but her head pounded and her vision blurred in an instant.

Ragar supported her back to bed and she dislikes that she has to rely on him for such a simple task.

“I’ll leave you now so you could sleep,” he said, looking down at her.

She took a sharp inhale before looking away. She felt him move away and she just closed her eyes completely while he was in that room, continuing his clean-up.

Should she trust these people—rely on them and listen about the healing period?

Admittedly, it is difficult for her to move. She has not felt such weakness for a long time that she does not know how to exactly deal with it. With that, she would prefer to stay out of the Master's sight than let him see how vulnerable she is. He has assigned her to be the leader of his own army and with the state she is now, he would most definitely think she is not worthy for it. Disappointing him is the last thing she would want to happen, therefore, she has reached a conclusion that she would stay.

She will stay.