That thought alone was enough to get her moving. She undressed and stepped toward the small copper tub in the corner. Arealbath. No icy streams or rushed washes at camp, but a proper soak with warm water and soap that carried the soft scents of vanilla and lavender. Sinking into the tub, she exhaled sharply, letting the heat soothe the remnants of last night’s indulgence.
By the time she was finished, Heidara had returned, balancing a wooden tray in her arms. And on that tray—
Evelyne’s eyes widened.
“Tea!”
She nearly yanked it from Heidara’s hands, grinning as she curled her fingers around the warm cup.
“You act like I brought you gold,” Heidara laughed, setting down the rest of the tray.
“Thisisgold,” Evelyne murmured, inhaling the rich, spiced aroma, savoring the heat against her palms. “Gods, I missed this.”
“Well, then, consider it a birthday present.” Heidara plopped onto the bed beside her. “Now, drink while I do your hair.”
Evelyne obliged, sipping slowly while Heidara worked her fingers through her damp hair, twisting and braiding it with practiced ease. Once she had finished, Evelyne slipped into a leather skirt with a high slit, a cropped vest, and sandals suited for the warm weather and the moon ritual that awaited them later. She paused at the small, fogged mirror near the washbasin, catching her reflection. She looked different. Sun-kissed and sharper. Stronger. Like someone who had endured and lived through things most couldn’t imagine.
Cindermoor’s streets buzzed with life, filled with the calls of vendors, the murmur of conversation, the rhythmic clang of a blacksmith’s hammer; the scent of fresh bread, spiced cider, and hints of lavender and sage from nearby apothecaries. The town struck a balance between rugged and refined, shaped by trade and quiet resilience. Tanners, tailors, herbalists, scribes, and leatherworkers lined the streets, along with traders from across the eastern lands.
And Heidara was determined to see it all.
Evelyne was dragged from shop to shop and led through winding streets as Heidara eagerly pointed out the best bakeries, the finest silk vendors, and the liveliest market stalls. To her surprise, Evelyne didn’t mind. She had expected to feel out of place, like a foreigner in a town built for wolves. But instead, she found herself drawn in.
She ran her fingers over delicate perfume bottles, admired a silver hairpin shaped like a crescent moon, and smirked as Heidara haggled with a fruit vendor like her life depended on it. For a fleeting moment, it almost felt like… normalcy.
As Evelyne set down a wooden pendant etched with swirling runes, Alaric suddenly stepped in front of her, something held gently in his hand. A flower. Its petals were pale blue, delicate yet resilient, catching the sunlight in a way that almost made it glow.
Evelyne blinked. “What’s this?”
“A birthday gift,” he said with a shrug.
She paused, then took the flower, rolling the stem between her fingers. “Thank you, Alaric.”
“Careful. You’re not about to get all sentimental on me, are you?” he said with a smirk, watching as she brought it to her nose and breathed in its soft, fresh scent.
She gave a low chuckle, but beneath it, something warm settled in her chest. Despite everything, they still had this—this friendship. And for that, she was grateful.
They followed Heidara’s lead for two hours, ducking into shops filled with delicate fabrics, passing outdoor cafes where townsfolk sipped tea, and weaving through the market stalls whose vendors welcomed them as though they belonged. But eventually, Heidara pulled up short.
“I need to check in with someone,” she said, flashing an apologetic smile. “I’ll catch up with you both later, okay?”
And then it was just Evelyne and Alaric. At first, they walked in easy silence, the sounds of the town filling the space between them. But after a few quiet minutes, Alaric cleared his throat, and Evelyne knew precisely where this was headed.
“So,” he said, glancing her way, “our betrothal.”
Evelyne slowed a little, tilting her head. “Ah. That.”
“That,” he echoed.
She let out a breath, then met his eyes. “We should probably end it officially, shouldn’t we?”
Alaric nodded. “Yeah. I think we should.”
There was no sadness in her voice and no hesitation in his. It felt… right.
“I do want you to know something,” he said, his voice softer now. “I’m still here for you, Ev. I always will be. And I am truly sorry.”
Her smile was small but sincere. “I know. And for what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re here.”
