Cecilia remained quiet as she led them through the village, and Ceremus took the opportunity to observe their surroundings.
The houses were unlike those in Trojas. Built from wood, bamboo, and terracotta, they stood in stark contrast to the stone and brick structures of his homeland. Their sloping roofs were designed for efficient rainwater drainage, considering how the climate was much more humid on the island and it was common to experience rainfall. The houses were built to protect from such damage.
As they moved further north, the homes began to change. The simple dwellings gave way to larger, multistory structures—carefully crafted and far more refined than the others. These homes bore a striking resemblance to the courtyard residences found in the outer city, exuding a quiet luxury that set them apart from the rest of the village.
Eventually, Cecilia stopped in front of one of the houses, its design noticeably more polished. The building had a spacious private room with ample space to lounge, with an unmistakable air of comfort woven into its walls.
"This will be where you'll be staying during your time here," she said, her voice carefully measured.
She hesitated before adding, "Unfortunately, it isn't much and only has two rooms, but it's the most recently renovated."
Her tone was polite but cautious, her wariness still evident. She fully expected the haughty king to turn his nose up at the accommodations.
But Ceremus said nothing.
Instead, his golden eyes swept over the space in quiet assessment.
Cecilia held her breath, waiting.
Yet, he offered no complaint. No disdain.
Just silence.
"Thank you for accommodating us—everything looks lovely," Hael spoke up, his voice warm and sincere on behalf of them both.
Cecilia's brows lifted in surprise. "I'm glad you think so," she replied, her gaze lingering on Hael, studying him cautiously, as if searching for any trace of insincerity.
"I'll be heading back now. Dinner should be ready soon," she added before turning to leave. As she walked away, Cecilia glanced back a few times, as if to ensure they weren't following her, before finally disappearing down the path.
Hael watched her retreating figure with a frown.
"What's wrong?" Ceremus asked, noticing the troubled expression on his face.
The young man pursed his lips and turned to face the king. "Have we offended Miss Cecilia in some way?" he wondered.
Ceremus frowned. Cecilia? He didn't like hearing another woman's name come out of Hael's mouth.
"You've done nothing wrong. These women have been deprived of the outside world for so long, they probably don't know how to act around us. It's just like the legend says."
"The legend?"
Ceremus stepped into the courtyard, his eyes scanning the room. "Yes, a legend. A story my father used to tell me when I was a child."
Hael's ears perked up. He couldn't help but try to imagine what Ceremus was like as a boy. The then prince running around the palace with a carefree smile on his face. The thought brought a smile to his face. He followed him inside, eyeing him curiously. Even Loki seemed intrigued by the mention of this mysterious tale.
"What does this legend entail?" he asked.
The king sat in one of the chairs in the reception area and gestured for Hael to join him. The young man obliged, waiting for Ceremus to continue.
"The legend speaks of a mysterious island where a group of women once worshiped the goddesses, praying for blessings of happiness, health, and prosperity. But they forgot to honor one particular goddess, and angered by their neglect, she cursed them with sores, resulting in the men of the island wanting nothing to do with them.
Having abandoned their wives and children, the men sailed to another island, where they indulged in affairs and forgot those they left behind. When they finally returned, the betrayed women killed them all. Since then, no man has been allowed here."
Hael raised an eyebrow. "Your father told you such a gruesome tale as a child?"
Ceremus chuckled. "Of course not. I got the child-friendly version. But later, I researched the island and found that it actually existed—though I'm not sure how much truth the story holds," he said. "There are many versions of the tale, but I only know of two."
Hael nodded. "So that's why you were interested in stopping here. Do you think the villagers have those sores you mentioned?"
Ceremus shrugged. "They're all covered up—even in this heat. I'd imagine there's a reason for that."
Had it been the old king, he would've already tried seducing one of the villagers to uncover the answers he sought. But the thought of doing that now didn't sit right with him.
His gaze unconsciously drifted to Hael, who was curiously surveying the room.
Loki remained perched on his shoulder, though the bird had dozed off, exhausted from the long journey.
A small smile briefly crossed Ceremus' face but vanished the moment Hael turned his attention back to him.
"What will you do then?" Hael asked.
"Nothing for now. It was always my father's dream to find out whether the legend was real, but I don't think these women would take too kindly to me asking them outright," Ceremus said.
Hael chuckled. "I would think not."
~*~
The two rested for a few hours until a knock at the door interrupted them. It was Cecilia, alerting them that dinner was being served.
They returned to the center of the village, where a large table filled with food and drinks awaited them. The villagers stood beside it, greeting their guests politely.
"Please, sit and enjoy the meal we've prepared for you," Hypsipyle said.
The men exchanged glances, first at the table, then at the women, then at each other. Hael noticed that the villagers seemed less wary than before. Their attention lingered on him in particular, though he wasn't sure why. Still, he was relieved that their initial fear seemed to be fading.
So, Hael was the first to take a seat, and after eyeing him curiously, Ceremus followed suit.
Once everyone was seated, they began to eat. Hypsipyle occasionally shared stories about their island and asked about life in their guests' homelands. Zenas, ever the talker, carried most of the conversation, though Hael chimed in from time to time.
As the hour passed, the villagers slowly started to open up. The once-stiff atmosphere gradually turned lively.
Ceremus noticed the shift but said nothing. His gaze occasionally flickered to Hypsipyle, but more often than not, he found himself watching Hael from the corner of his eye.
When the meal concluded, the village head brought out wine and other drinks to further the festivities.
"Would you like something to drink, Your Majesty? My lord?" Cecilia asked the pair, but both declined.
"I don't partake in drinking, and neither does His Majesty. But thank you for offering," Hael said.
Cecilia frowned slightly, glancing between the two before offering a polite smile. "My apologies then. Would you prefer fruit juice or water instead?"
"Water would be nice, thank you," Hael replied.
Cecilia nodded and made her way to the kitchen. As she left, she felt Hypsipyle's gaze on her for a brief moment. In response, she gave a discreet nod before disappearing inside.
As Cecilia picked up the water pitcher—filled earlier that morning after a trip to the well—her thoughts drifted back to her conversation with the Village Head.
"Why have you brought those men here, Lady Hypsipyle?" she had asked, unable to suppress her concern.
She shared the same sentiment as the other women—confusion, but also unease. The presence of outsiders risked exposing secrets they had long sought to keep from the outside world.
"Worry not, child. I have my reasons," Hypsipyle had replied.
Cecilia raised a brow. "And those reasons being?"
The Village Head glanced at her before returning to her embroidery. "…I saw something in that man," she murmured.
"That man?" Cecilia pressed.
"Yes, the one with the white hair and kind eyes. He has a good heart… and a hero-like quality to him."
Cecilia's eyes widened. "Do you think they could fight the giants that have been invading our land?"
Hypsipyle smiled knowingly. "That white-haired man… with him here, it just might be possible. So we must treat them well and ask for their aid in return."
Cecilia nodded, a knowing look crossing her face, but she said nothing more.
Returning to the dining hall, she served the water, her gaze lingering on Hael for a brief moment before she took her seat.
Once dinner concluded, the tired and now-drunk men stumbled back to their lodgings, while Hael and Ceremus chose to take a walk along the shore, hoping to digest their meal before turning in for the night.
"It's nice being able to go outside of the Kingdom, see what the rest of the world has to offer." Hael said as he gazed at the water in front of them.
"Have you never been outside of the Forest until now?" Ceremus asked.
Hael shook his head. "The Forest is all I've ever known. It's all I believed was out there for a while. If it wasn't for those three huntsmen coming into the Forest, I wouldn't have ever left." He said, purposefully omitting Anthanasia as one of the reasons.
"…I'm sure you would've made it out of there eventually. Even without their presence." The King replied.
"What makes you think that?"
Ceremus wore a thoughtful expression before finally speaking. "Have you ever wondered why you felt so drawn to me when we first met?" he asked.
Hael furrowed his brows, confused by the question but answered anyway. "Yes, I have. Many times, in fact," he admitted.
"I don't believe our encounter was mere chance, Hael. Everything that led up to this moment happened for a reason, and I suspect it has something to do with your origins," Ceremus said.
"My origins?" Hael echoed, his mind drifting back to his conversation with Maximus.
He recalled how the gorilla had told him that Ceremus was someone he shouldn't let go of—someone he needed to love and protect. At the time, he wasn't sure what to make of those words. But now, he was convinced that Maximus had meant something more. Ceremus wasn't just important—he was the person Hael had been searching for. His destined one. His chosen one.
The realization made Hael's heart flutter. He couldn't help but stare at the man beside him.
Ceremus, sensing Hael's gaze, turned slightly, catching the soft, tender glow in his eyes. His heart skipped a beat. Then, Hael's fingers brushed against his hand—just the faintest touch, made his skin feel warm and tingly.
He pursed his lips before looking away. "We would have met each other regardless of what happened to you back in the Aphthonia Forest. You would have been able to see the world and experience it with your own two eyes—"
Ceremus' breath hitched as Hael suddenly interlocked their fingers, cutting his words short.
"What are you—"
"I'm glad it happened then," Hael murmured. "I'm glad I got the chance to meet you, Ceremus. Because of you, I've been able to experience so many new and incredible things."
His words caught in his throat, unable to utter another word. His golden eyes widened in shock, his chest tightened at Hael's kind words, and a flush of heat crept over him in embarrassment.
"I-I—" he stammered, but before he could finish, a loud roar echoed in the distance.
Both men's heads snapped toward the direction of the sound.
"What was that?" they said in unison.
Ceremus frowned. "That didn't sound like the roar of a monster or a beast."
At that same moment, Hypsipyle awoke from her slumber. "They're coming."