A Glimpse Beyond The Veil
1146 Words
The cobblestone streets of Eldoria’s marketplace were alive with energy as the sun dipped below the horizon. Stalls lined the narrow paths, their wares illuminated by flickering lanterns and the glow of twilight. The scents of roasted chestnuts, fresh bread, and exotic spices hung heavy in the air, mingling with the distant hum of laughter and music.
For Prince Alaric, this world was a revelation. Every sound, every scent, and every fleeting glance from the townsfolk seemed to pulse with a life far removed from the cold, calculated world of the palace. Disguised in a simple brown cloak, with the hood pulled low over his face, he wove through the crowd, drawn by a sense of purpose he couldn’t fully articulate.
He hadn’t planned to return to the marketplace so soon after his first encounter with Elena, but her sharp words and fiery eyes had stayed with him, a flame he couldn’t extinguish.
---
A Familiar Face
As he rounded a corner, his heart leaped at the sight of her. Elena stood behind a modest wooden stall, arranging bundles of herbs with quick, practiced movements. Her auburn hair caught the light of a nearby lantern, and her face, though set in concentration, held a quiet beauty.
Gathering his courage, Alaric approached.
“You’re back,” Elena said without looking up, her voice laced with equal parts curiosity and suspicion.
“Am I that easy to recognize?” he replied, his attempt at humor drawing her gaze.
She raised an eyebrow. “Not many strangers come to Thornfield twice in a week without a reason. What are you after this time?”
Alaric hesitated, unsure how to answer. The truth—that he was drawn to her—felt too vulnerable to admit. Instead, he gestured toward the bundles of herbs. “Your tea worked wonders. I thought I might restock.”
Her lips twitched, almost forming a smile. “You must have a lot of ailments, stranger.”
---
The Price of Survival
As they talked, Elena shared snippets of her life. She spoke of waking before dawn to gather herbs in the forest, of haggling with merchants who tried to cheat her, and of the ever-present worry of tax collectors who demanded more than most villagers could afford.
“We’re lucky if we have enough left over to eat,” she said, her voice tinged with frustration. “Meanwhile, the palace feasts on roasted boar and wine.”
Alaric’s throat tightened. He had seen the extravagance of the palace firsthand, the wasteful abundance that now seemed obscene in light of her words.
“I wish things were different,” he said softly.
Elena tilted her head, studying him. “Wishing doesn’t change anything. Action does.”
Her words struck a chord, echoing thoughts he had long buried.
---
A Moment Interrupted
Before Alaric could respond, a commotion broke out nearby. A group of royal guards surrounded a frail fruit vendor, their voices raised in accusation.
“You’re short on your taxes again, old man!” one of the guards barked, shoving the vendor against his cart.
“Please,” the vendor begged, his hands trembling. “I’ve barely sold enough to feed my family.”
The guard sneered. “Then maybe your family should go hungry. The king doesn’t take excuses.”
Elena’s eyes darkened, and she stepped forward, but Alaric caught her arm.
“Wait,” he whispered.
“What are you doing?” she hissed, pulling away.
“You can’t—”
“I can’t stand by and do nothing,” she snapped, her voice low but fierce.
As the guards began overturning the vendor’s cart, scattering fruit across the ground, Elena slipped through the crowd. She didn’t confront the guards directly; instead, she knelt beside the vendor, whispering something to him as she pressed a small pouch of coins into his hands.
Alaric watched in silence, a mix of admiration and shame swirling in his chest.
---
A Quiet Conversation
When the guards finally left, the vendor thanked Elena profusely before gathering what remained of his wares.
“You didn’t have to do that,” Alaric said as she returned to her stall.
“Someone had to,” she replied simply, her expression unreadable.
He leaned against the edge of the stall, searching for the right words. “You risked a lot for him. What if the guards had noticed?”
Elena shrugged. “I’m used to risks. Besides, what kind of world do we live in if we let the weak suffer while the powerful do nothing?”
Her words stung, a subtle accusation that cut deeper than she likely realized. Alaric thought of his father’s court, the endless debates about policy that rarely resulted in real change. He thought of the wealth hoarded within the palace walls, of the luxury he had taken for granted.
“You’re braver than most people I know,” he admitted.
Elena glanced at him, her eyes softening for a moment before hardening again. “Flattery won’t get you a discount.”
He laughed, the sound surprising even himself.
---
A Growing Connection
As the evening wore on, their conversation shifted to lighter topics. Elena showed him the different herbs she sold, explaining their uses with a mix of pride and practicality. In turn, Alaric shared stories of distant lands he had read about, painting vivid pictures of golden deserts and snow-capped mountains.
“You’ve seen a lot for someone who claims to be an ordinary traveler,” Elena remarked, her tone half-teasing.
“Maybe I just have a good imagination,” he countered.
“Or maybe you’re hiding something,” she said, her eyes narrowing playfully.
For a moment, he thought she might press him further, but instead, she shook her head and smiled.
---
Parting Ways
As the night deepened, the marketplace began to quiet. Vendors packed up their wares, and families drifted home, their laughter fading into the cool evening air.
“I should go,” Elena said, gathering the last of her herbs.
Alaric felt a pang of reluctance. “Will I see you again?”
She paused, her expression unreadable. “That depends. Are you planning to buy more tea?”
He grinned. “I just might.”
Elena shook her head, but a faint smile lingered on her lips.
---
Reflections in the Palace
Later that night, Alaric stood on the balcony of his chambers, staring out at the city below. The lights of the marketplace twinkled in the distance, a reminder of the world he had glimpsed.
Elena’s words echoed in his mind: Wishing doesn’t change anything. Action does.
For the first time, he began to question not just his role as prince, but the very foundation of the kingdom he was destined to rule.
And deep down, he knew his connection to Elena was only the beginning.
- Writer
