The inn's windows glowed with soft morning light.
Elaina stretched in the warm sheets, blinking sleepily as the scent of fresh bread wafted in from downstairs. For a moment, she lay still, letting the calm of the morning settle her heartbeat. Last night's dream still echoed faintly—the fire, her brother's voice, the snow—but now, there was birdsong outside and quiet breathing beside her.
She turned slightly and saw him—already awake, sitting by the window, staring out at the street with a half-empty cup in hand.
"You never sleep in," she mumbled.
He turned his head. "Didn't want to wake you."
She yawned and pulled the blanket tighter. "You always look like you're waiting for something."
"Maybe I am."
There was silence. But it wasn't the sad kind.
After breakfast, they packed their things, thanked the innkeeper, and set off on the road once more. The sky was clear. The last traces of snow were now puddles on the path, reflecting spring blossoms that had begun to bloom along the roadside.
Elaina walked with a little extra energy today, her braid swaying behind her.
"So," she said, nudging the adventurer with her elbow, "now that I've officially joined your dark and mysterious journey, are you going to train me? Teach me the ways of being a brooding hero?"
"You're already too good at teasing," he replied.
"Then I'm halfway there."
They passed through a quiet village by a lake, where children chased each other with wooden swords. An old woman was setting pies on her windowsill. A cat lay sprawled lazily across a cart of carrots.
It was the kind of place that felt untouched by sorrow.
They paused near the lake. Elaina leaned down to poke at the water with a stick.
"I used to play like this," she said softly. "Before everything."
The adventurer looked at her.
She smiled without looking back. "Not sad today. Just remembering. I think… my brother would have liked you."
He didn't speak, but his eyes softened.
They sat beneath a tree and shared a simple lunch—bread, cheese, dried fruit. Elaina picked out the apricots and held one out to him.
"Here. You look like you haven't had anything sweet in years."
He took it. "I haven't."
She raised a brow. "That explains a lot."
Later, while they rested in the shade, Elaina dozed off, her head gently falling onto his shoulder. The adventurer didn't move. He simply let her rest, eyes watching the sky through the branches.
When she woke, the sun had begun to dip.
"Sorry," she said, stretching again. "I didn't mean to—"
"It's fine."
She looked up at him, a soft smile forming.
"You know," she said, "you're like the older brother I used to dream I'd find. Quiet. Protective. Terrible at jokes."
"You're like a squirrel with too much sugar."
"I'll take that as a compliment."
That night, they camped under the stars. He combed her hair again after she bathed in the nearby stream, gently working through the knots with surprising patience.
"I don't deserve this," she whispered, eyes half-closed.
"No one earns peace," he replied. "We just share it when we can."
She curled up beside him beneath the shared blanket, the fire crackling softly nearby.
"I'm glad I followed you that day," she murmured.
He didn't answer. He only glanced up at the stars, one of them glowing just a little brighter than the others, and quietly smiled.