Chapter 9
702 Words
That night, for Genevieve, her resolve to sleep failed her.
The image of Alfred's lean, rugged physique, particularly the hard, defined outline of his powerful abdominal muscles beneath his tunic, kept fueling a strange, restless energy that was unfamiliar.
Genevieve finally dragged her thoughts away from him, forcing her mind to settle on the day ahead. She could not afford indulgence now. She rose from her cot, the wooden floor cold beneath her bare feet, and moved toward the small basin by the window.
Water was precious in Iron Mountain Village, and she measured it carefully, pouring it over herself slowly. The chill made her shiver, but she relished the sharpness, the way it cleared her mind.
Wrapped in a coarse towel, she padded barefoot to the hearth. The fire still glowed faintly, and she tossed a few scraps of kindling onto the coals to stir it back to life. She swept the main room, the coarse bristles scraping against the wooden floor in steady strokes. Dust rose in faint clouds, settling again before the warmth of the fire could chase it away.
The pharmacy itself required more care. She donned her apron, gathered vinegar and clean rags, and began disinfecting every counter and shelf. Small jars of herbs gleamed under her careful hands, their labels meticulously checked for cracks or residue. Genevieve moved systematically, her mind settling into the familiar ritual. Order and cleanliness, she thought, could stave off disorder both in the village and in her racing heart.
By midmorning, the small house gleamed. Dust had been banished, shelves shone, and the counters were sanitized. Genevieve paused, hands on her hips, surveying the room with quiet satisfaction. It was a small victory, but one she claimed entirely for herself.
Her sister prepared the morning meal at home while her father got set on reading his books... How he loved his books, perhaps in another life, he was a renowned scholar whose life was not measured by the amount of goats he owned.
She gathered a small bundle of herbs and ointments, intending to deliver them to a few patients.
On her way down the lane, she spotted Atharina crouched near the well, smoothing the hem of her thin shawl. Her eyes flicked up guiltily as Genevieve approached.
"Good morning," Genevieve said softly. "I have some medicine for your sister, Sienna. Take it, it is free of charge."
Atharina’s fingers hesitated over the small bundle. "You… you do not need to," she murmured, ashamed yet grateful.
"It will help," Genevieve replied simply. "That is enough."
Atharina accepted the herbs, tucking them carefully into her shawl. Her lips pressed into a thin line, guilt written clearly on her face, but she did not speak further.
Genevieve nodded once and continued on her way, as she resumed her work among the villagers then she looked up and noticed Harrald from afar.
He was approaching the main square, appearing freshly scrubbed and unnervingly composed. He had no prospects apart from being part of the chief household. She shuddered, detesting the required familiarity.
She ducked hoping he didn't notice her as usual and hurried up to leave the house to her healer hut. After attending to a long line of sick children, she finally stood up.
Ready to go to the phoenix warriors quarters. Her heart hammered as she walked towards the place slowly.
The soldiers in their tents mumbled their greetings as Genevieve passed, their voices low with respect. She gave only a brief nod and quickened her steps toward Alfred’s shed, her heart beating a little faster than she cared to admit.
As she neared the tent, she saw Warin standing nearby, speaking quietly with someone whose voice sounded familiar. A small pang of curiosity struck her.
“Is that… Eila?” she thought, slowing her pace. The tone between them seemed intimate, though she could not be certain.
She considered stepping closer to investigate but shook her head. “Better not,” she muttered to herself. “Perhaps it is only an entertainer from the next village. Girls who cannot waste a chance to hook up with well-known warriors.”
Genevieve sighed, putting the matter out of her mind, and walked in.
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