Chapter 8 - EIGHT - WHEN ARE YOU LEAVING?

Chapter 8: Chapter EIGHT - WHEN ARE YOU LEAVING?Serena glanced sideways at Annamarie, who had now intertwined her hand with hers. A small smile played on the younger woman's face as she eagerly explained how she had begged her father to let her be Serena's tour guide. "It wasn't easy. Father doesn't dislike you; it's just the Elders. They thought it'd be safer with guards," the brunette said. "I see." Serena nodded politely, though her mind wandered far from Annamarie's words. She lingered on the reactions of everyone when Darius had declared she would stay. His reason was straightforward, he owed his reputation to her. While that seemed to pacify the Elders, Serena suspected there was more behind his unsaid words. "I... I'm grateful for your help," Annamarie said, shaking Serena's hand. "Oh, it was nothing," Serena replied. "Really." "It's not! The Healers here said it was nothing short of a miracle that I survived," Annamarie insisted, her eyes wide with admiration. "I suppose we have Lunara to thank for sparing your life," Serena said with amusement. "Yes, but... you performed that miracle. I didn't know rogues could be so skilled," Annamarie said, her words rushed, as if eager to praise. Serena shot her a sidelong glance. "No, no, I didn't mean it like that!" Annamarie stammered, her cheeks coloring. "A senior Healer had to continue from where you left off. They said it was the hardest thing they'd faced in months." "Is that so?" Serena asked, the younger woman nodded vigorously. She bit her lip, looking away from Annamarie. She could claim her father had taught her. He wasn't alive, so no one could confirm or deny the story. Healers didn't just appear out of nowhere; they were born with the gift and trained by seasoned healers. – Annamarie opened the door to a modest house, and Serena glanced around the area. There were many others identical to it, each about a minute's walk apart. "Come, come," Annamarie urged, waving her inside. The faint scent of stale air and dust greeted Serena as she entered. She barely had time to take in the small room before she sneezed. "I'm sorry," Annamarie said, a bit flustered. "We didn't have time to clean, and we weren't sure if this would be where you'd stay, so..." "It's okay, Annamarie," Serena replied with a small laugh. "It's perfect, thank you." "Annamarie is such a mouthful. I think Anna is just fine," the younger woman suggested. Serena nodded, flashing her a warm smile in return. "Anna, then." Crossing the room, Serena stopped at a small table and ran her fingers across its surface, leaving a faint trail through the dust. Her hand brushed against something rough, and she flicked the residue from her palm. "Where are we?" Serena asked, her tone casual, though her eyes lingered on the faint cobwebs in the corners. Annamarie moved to the nearest window, struggling briefly with the latch before managing to push it open. A cloud of dust spiraled into the air, and she coughed, waving a hand in front of her face. "We're at Oakspire Haven," she said between coughs. "The Alpha thought you should have a quiet place, close to the main castle." Serena flicked the dust from her hand. It felt like another prison, but at least it was better than the others she had been in. "It's much too quiet," Annamarie continued. "Far from the main square and all the interesting things. It's like the back end of the castle." Serena gave a hum of acknowledgment, her gaze fixed on the dusty floor. "Like I said it's okay, I'm not a princess." The two chatted briefly, mostly Annamarie filling the silence with small observations about the area and Serena nodding along. Eventually, Annamarie glanced at the door. "I almost forgot,I need to deliver a letter. But don't worry, I'll be back soon," she assured Serena with a quick smile before slipping out. Serena opened the second window and dusted the bed off. Her eyes wandered to the large chest of drawers in the corner, its polished exterior oddly pristine compared to the rest of the room. "Thank Lunara," she didn't have to ask for basic things now except for food. — Serena wiped the dust off every surface she could find. The rag in her hand quickly turned gray, but she went on, dipping it into the bucket and wringing it out until the water was murky. The scent of pine soap mingled with the fresh air from the open windows. Once satisfied, she stepped outside, squinting at the sun. She had arrived in the morning, and now the sun sat high in the sky, it would be lunchtime soon. Back inside, she took the liberty of rearranging the furniture. She pushed the bed closer to the window, her arms straining as she shoved the heavy frame across the wooden floor., positioning it alongside the dowry chest. After finishing, she stretched, her muscles protesting from the effort. She stretched, a familiar voice echoed in her mind, "Serena." Her body stiffened mid-motion. She looked around the room, looking around before closing her eyes. "Feyra." "I'm sorry, Healy," the voice said, using the endearing nickname a child once gave her when they couldn't pronounce "healer" properly. Serena smiled at the memory. "I'm still weak, but I am here." Relief washed over Serena. "I'm glad. I missed you," she whispered, her heart lighter with Feyra's return. For the first time in months, her heart felt whole again. — Serena rushed to answer the door without a second thought. "Anna-" Her smile faltered as she saw the red hair instead. "Ah... Alpha," she stammered and dipped into an awkward bow. He said nothing, stepping inside. Serena moved aside instinctively, watching as his gaze swept over the space, taking in every detail like he was inspecting her work. "You work quickly," he muttered. Her eyes followed his to the bed, freshly positioned beside the dowry chest. For a moment, their gazes met, and something unspoken passed between them. Her cheeks warmed, and she quickly turned away, shutting the door. The Alpha shifted his weight, the faint sound of his boots on the wooden floor filling the quiet. He coughed lightly, as though to dispel the lingering tension. After composing himself, he asked, "When are you leaving?"