Then I sheathed it carefully and turned toward the figure on the ground.
She’d collapsed backward, her knife dropped, staring up at with wide eyes.
My brain stopped working.
"Tessa?"
She smiled sheepishly and waved.
"Hi!"
Behind , I heard Scarlet make a strangled sound.
"You’ve got to be kidding ."
I just stood there, staring, my mind completely blank.
What!
How?
Why???
Tessa pushed herself to her feet, dusting off her cloak with exaggerated casualness like she hadn’t just been seconds away from being torn apart by wild hounds.
"Funny eting you here!" She said brightly, like this was a chance encounter at the village market instead of the middle of a monster-infested forest at night.
"What are you doing here?!"
"Well," she said, maintaining that sheepish smile, "I was just passing by... my great aunt lives that way—"
I held up my hand.
She stopped talking.
I took a very deep breath.
Let it out slowly.
Then looked up at the sky like it might provide answers to why my life had beco this complicated.
It didn’t.
"This is a nightmare," I said to no one in particular.
Then looked back at Tessa, the girl who was supposed to be safe in Oakre, not following into danger with only a small knife and apparently no survival skills whatsoever.
"Explain," I said flatly. "Now. The truth."
Her smile beca slightly less sheepish and slightly more determined.
"I’m coming with you."
"Absolutely not."
"You can’t stop ."
She said it cheerfully, then added. "Now, is there any food? I’m starving."
As if to prove her point, her stomach growled loudly in the quiet clearing.
She chuckled and scratched her cheek, grinning.
"See?"
I sighed deeply.
My luck!
"Co on."
I turned and walked back toward our camp, not bothering to check if they followed.
They did.
And we settled back around the fire, the pot of my catastrophic cooking attempt still sitting where I’d left it.
I ladled so into a bowl and handed it to Tessa without comnt.
She sat down beside , took the bowl gratefully, and raised it to her lips.
Then grimaced.
"This is gross."
She looked at , then at Scarlet, who was pointedly not making eye contact.
"Who made this?"
My eye twitched.
"Then don’t eat it if you don’t like it."
"So rude!" She protested, but kept the bowl.
"Says the one who just labeled her fiancé’s food gross."
Her eyes widened.
"Wait. You made this?"
"Who else?"
She stared at for a mont, then at the bowl, then back at .
Then she started eating again—but now with running comntary.
"It’s too salty, ow, hot... why are the vegetables crunchy and mushy at the sa ti? That shouldn’t be possible."
"Is that supposed to be at? It tastes like you boiled a boot, honestly, Jin, did you even try—"
I listened to her complain and nag between every single bite, sohow managing to finish the entire bowl despite her protests.
When she was done, she patted her belly with satisfaction and let out an unladylike burp.
"You really need cooking lessons."
Scarlet made a sound from where she’d settled against a rock then pointedly laid down, closing her eyes like she was absolutely not listening to any of this.
I sighed and leaned back against the log behind , staring at the fire.
"Why did you follow us?"
Silence settled over us for a mont.
Then Tessa exhaled slowly.
"I’ve never really been outside the village before," she said quietly, her earlier cheerfulness fading into sothing more genuine.
"Well, except for two tis when I went to Greyford with Grandfather for guild business. But that wasn’t real experience. Just sitting in a wagon, going to the guild hall, then coming straight back ho."
She leaned back, mirroring my position, looking up at the stars visible through the break in the canopy.
Her eyes closed.
And I found myself looking at her.
The firelight caught her features in warm gold, softening the lines of exhaustion and highlighting the curve of her cheek, the set of her jaw.
Her hair had co loose from its tie during the hound attack, falling in ssy waves around her face. There was dirt on her nose and a small scratch on her forehead from the underbrush.
But...
She looked... beautiful.
When did I start thinking about her like this?
She inhaled deeply and opened her eyes, staring up at the stars.
"When I was little, Grandfather used to tell stories about his adventures. About his ti in the army." Her voice took on a nostalgic quality, warm with mory.
She gestured animatedly with her hands, painting pictures in the air.
"He’d describe the mountains he’d climbed, these massive peaks where you could touch the clouds." Her hands went up, fingers spread wide.
"And the battles he fought—not the scary parts thouhg, he never told those—but the exciting parts. The clever strategies. The impossible odds. The way he and his unit beca like family."
She was smiling now, her eyes distant but bright.
"He told about different cities, about markets that sold things from across the entire continent, about festivals where people from a dozen different cultures all celebrated together. About forests so old and vast you could walk for weeks and never see the sa tree twice."
Her expression beca dreamy and wistful.
"Ever since I was little, I dread of traveling like he did. Seeing those things with my own eyes instead of just hearing about them."
She paused, and her expression changed, the brightness dimming, sothing heavier settling over her features.
"But..."
Her hands dropped to her lap.
"My parents were adventurers too. Grandfather used to tell about them, how strong they were, how fearless, carving thrill of discovering new places. How they loved each other and loved ."
Her voice had gone quieter.
"How they went on their planned last adventure, before retiring."
Her eyes glistened in the firelight.
"And how... they never ca back."
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