004 Suspicion

Chapter 004: Suspicion

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THE STORY BEGINS

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The city of Nauruan sat at the easternmost edge of the Xipil Kingdom’s borders. Beyond its bustling center lay a vast district still under Nauruan’s jurisdiction—an area fifteen times the size of the city’s core.

Caihina was a barren and arid region, untouched by the grandeur of central Nauruan. Isolated and overlooked, Caihina was home to over a dozen small villages, all sharing the same harsh fate. Though spread across a vast expanse, these villages remained cut off from the rest of the kingdom. The land consisted of dry plains and forgotten savannahs, neglected by the noble overseeing the city—Count Veraga.

Angga was one of nine outermost villages scattered across Caihina. Reaching Nauruan’s center from Angga took ten days by carriage, given the treacherous terrain, or five days on horseback. The village sat on the border between desert and savannah. It was here that Atthy was born and raised.

Caihina stretched across a desolate plain with a few large lagoons serving as vital water sources for the population. In the north, limestone hills buried under sand formed massive basins that resembled giant bowls. At their heart lay an endless savannah, stretching as far as the eye could see. To the south, dense forests teeming with dangerous beasts divided into two regions: Caihina and Nauruan. The Nauruan woods were milder, though still warmer than the highlands of Skythia.

Outside Nauruan, few knew or cared about Caihina. Neglected by Count Veraga, the region was rarely spoken of. Bandits had taken refuge near the forest borders, thriving in the lawlessness born from the Count’s indifference. The treacherous landscape made access difficult, hindering trade and isolating the villages even further.

"Father! Father! Look!" a six-year-old boy, Damian, came running from the distance, shouting for his father.

"Dimi! Stop yelling!" called Atthy, a young woman who had turned eighteen just three months prior. She was the eldest daughter of Ashton Galina.

Huff... Huff... Huff...

Damian stopped at the edge of the yard, breathless from running.

"What is it with you?... Why are you running like that?" asked Ashton, his father, without looking up as he continued hammering a piece of glowing metal.

"A courier just arrived!" Damian exclaimed, eyes sparkling with excitement.

"So?" Atthy replied flatly while tending the fire for her father’s forge.

"He brought a letter," said Damian, smiling brightly.

"He’s a courier. Of course he brought a letter," Atthy teased, though her hands never paused in their task.

"But the letter’s for us!" Damian insisted, beaming with pride, unfazed by his sister’s teasing.

"Hmm?!" Ash and Atthy responded in unison, both raising an eyebrow.

"And guess what—it’s from Xerces! The capital!" Damian added, clearly pleased with the effect of his announcement.

Atthy exchanged a glance with her father. Ashton frowned, puzzled.

"Are you sure you read that right, Dimi?" Ashton asked, disbelief in his voice.

It was understandable. Ash hadn’t set foot in the capital since graduating from the academy twenty years ago.

"I’m sure, Father. It clearly says, ‘To Baron Galina,’" Damian replied, holding up the envelope to show the writing.

"Then it’s for your grandfather," Ashton said with a soft pat on his youngest son’s head.

"Not for you?!" Damian asked, confused.

"Foolish boy!" Ashton scolded. "The title ‘Baron’ belongs to your grandfather."

"You little rascal! Now come help me!" Atthy laughed as she called him over.

"Still... it’s a letter for our family," Damian muttered, trying to defend himself as he did what his sister asked.

Ashton took the letter from Damian and stepped inside the house to deliver it to his father, Rowtag Galina.

Atthy resumed her work at the forge, while Damian stoked the fire.

From a young age, Atthy and her siblings had helped Ashton with his blacksmithing. She often joined him and her thirteen-year-old brother, Aydan, on hunts through the forest.

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"Father, there's a letter for you from the capital," said Ashton as he handed the envelope to Rowtag, Atthy’s grandfather.

"A letter?... From the capital?... For me?" Rowtag asked, clearly bewildered.

"Yes," Ashton replied casually.

"Are you sure you’re not mistaken?" Rowtag pressed, still frowning in confusion.

"I don’t think so. My eyes are still sharp. It says right there, ‘Baron Galina,’" Ashton answered, just as relaxed.

Rowtag took the letter and began to read. Moments later, his expression shifted from confusion to astonishment.

"Ash... This letter isn't for me. It's for you," Rowtag said, holding out the letter.

"For me?! But Father, it clearly says BARON..." Ashton objected, baffled.

"It’s been over forty years… Perhaps they think I’m dead," Rowtag muttered, a touch of disappointment in his voice.

"Father, what’s wrong?" Ashton asked, worried. He couldn’t bear to see his father’s wrinkled face darkened with sadness. "Is it bad news?"

"Quite the opposite. It might actually be good news. But make no mistake—this letter is addressed to you, Ash… because it concerns your daughter, Atthy," Rowtag said, smiling gently in reassurance.

"Atthy?... What does she have to do with this?" Ashton asked, still confused.

"This is a marriage proposal—for your eldest daughter," Rowtag declared with a wide, amused grin.

Ashton stared, stunned. He was even more shocked than Rowtag had been while reading the letter.

"Father… You must be getting old. Your eyesight’s failing. Give it here—let me read it myself!" Ashton demanded, still in disbelief.

"Be my guest. I told you—it’s your letter," Rowtag replied, handing it over.

A long pause followed as Ashton read. Slowly, a look of utter disbelief took over his face. He glanced at his father, then back at the letter again and again, as though searching for some hidden mistake among the perfectly written lines.

"Am I the one going blind now?" Rowtag teased, raising an eyebrow with a smirk.

"Father…" Ashton murmured, his voice quivering. "This proposal... it's for Atthy?"

"Yes," Rowtag answered, grinning mischievously.

"From a Grand Duke?!" Ashton nearly shouted, his voice laden with doubt.

"If neither of us has gone blind," Rowtag said coolly, "then yes, that’s exactly what it says."

Ashton’s throat went dry. He scanned the letter again, as if hoping the words might suddenly change their meaning.

"Could this be some kind of mistake by the Royal Capital?" he asked in a voice barely above a whisper.

"You’re asking me?" Rowtag gave him a wry look. "I’ve never even stepped foot in an academy, unlike you."

Ashton slumped onto the long bench before his father, his limbs drained of strength. Disbelief clung to him like fog. Outside, a soft breeze rustled the trees, whispering through the leaves as if echoing the mystery behind this unexpected letter.

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That evening, after dinner was over, Ash called everyone together—including his four children. The candles were lit, their flickering shadows dancing along the wooden walls of their home. Aydan, Atthy’s thirteen-year-old brother, sat beside her, flanked by the twins, Dimi and Agafya, who were only eight. Agafya, frail since birth, stared at her sister with an expression that was hard to read.

"Atthy, what we're about to discuss... it's about you," Ash began casually, though the tension in his eyes betrayed the calm tone in his voice as he stared at the last few bites on his plate.

"Yes, Father..." Atthy replied politely. Her voice was composed, but her heart had begun to pound. A creeping sense of unease started to stir inside her.

"You’re aware that a letter came from the Capital this morning, right?" Ash asked, making sure she was following.

Atthy nodded, though her mind still raced to guess where this was headed.

"That letter was a marriage proposal. For you."

The words hung in the air. For a moment, the only sound was the soft crackle of the firewood in the hearth.

Atthy froze. Her breath caught in her throat. Her gaze flicked from her father’s face to her grandfather’s, then to the neatly rolled scroll on the table. This... couldn't be real.

"Why, Father?" she asked, voice trembling with confusion and shock.

Ash hesitated. Doubt flickered in his eyes, but he quickly regained composure. "I know this is sudden, Atthy… We won’t force you. But we do want you to think it over. This could be a great opportunity for you."

Atthy swallowed hard. Her mind was a whirl of thoughts. Marriage? To someone she didn’t even know? Her life in Caihina had always been simple—peaceful. And now, one letter threatened to upend everything.

Rowt added with a deep, steady voice, "Atthy, I understand how you feel. But like your father said—consider it carefully."

Atthy clenched her hands in her lap. "Father… I don’t want to get married. I’ve never even thought about it."

"I understand," Ash replied, his tone softer now. "But this could mean a better life. Please, just think about it. Don’t rush to say no."

Beside her, Atthy felt Agafya’s gaze—hopeful and bright. The little girl’s eyes sparkled, as though trying to say something she didn’t have the words for.

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After dinner and a brief conversation, they returned to their rooms to prepare for bed. The modest house had four bedrooms. Rowt and Ash each had their own, Aydan shared one with Dimi, and Atthy shared hers with Agafya.

Agafya—often called Gafy or Gaff—had been born with a weak body. But despite her frailty, she was lively and talkative. Her presence filled their quiet home with noise and cheer, especially when paired with Dimi, who always seemed to be buzzing with the energy Gafy lacked.

That night, as she helped her sister fold clothes, Gafy asked brightly, "Sis... are you going to accept it?"

Atthy, who was just carrying in a basket of laundry, glanced at her briefly and replied with feigned indifference, "Accept what?"

"The marriage proposal?!" Gafy exclaimed, clearly impatient, though she kept folding the clothes diligently.

Atthy offered a faint smile, amused by her sister’s excitement. "I don’t know," she said with a shrug. "I haven’t really thought about it."

Gafy pouted, still trying to coax a reaction out of her. "If you go to the Capital, you’ll get to see so many things you’ve never seen before," she said eagerly, her tone full of wonder.

Atthy paused and looked at her sister with playful suspicion. "Why? You want to go to the Capital?"

"If you're going to ask that, then yes…" Gafy grinned, but her breath hitched slightly. She clutched her arm, showing signs of fatigue, but quickly replaced it with a bright smile. "But you know very well that it would be hard for me. I want to go, yes, but that doesn't mean I should. My body is weak. It’d be hard for me to leave this place, especially the way things are now… Still, I’m happy here—being your sister, Father's daughter, Grandfather’s granddaughter. This is the home where I was born and raised, and I’m grateful… But I also want to see the world beyond these woods."

Atthy was silent, something catching in her throat. "But Gaff," she said at last, "I’m not being sent to the Capital. I’d be going to Alpen—the Northern province. It’s far from the Capital… The letter came from there, but the proposal is from a Grand Duke who lives in the North."

Gafy paused to take that in. "Oh… I see." Her face flushed with disappointment, though the hope in her eyes refused to fade. "But still… it’s an opportunity, right?"

Atthy gave a faint smile. Gafy wasn’t just talking about the outside world. Her little sister longed for something more—something she herself could never reach. But perhaps Atthy could.

Still, something felt off. A proposal from a Grand Duke? Even if they had noble blood, their family’s status was far too low for such attention. Her grandfather was a baron barely remembered by the world. So how had the royal court even heard of them?

"Sis!" Gafy called out in irritation, snapping Atthy out of her thoughts. "Does that mean this proposal isn’t final?"

Atthy looked at her, then sighed. "The royal court often arranges noble marriages. It’s usually political, Gaff… Haven’t Father and I taught you? There are always two reasons behind such moves—to weaken or strengthen a side… And the thing is, Grandfather’s position is far too insignificant to be involved in politics at that level. That’s why Father asked me to think about it—because he senses something strange too."

"Could it be a bad thing?"

"I don’t know, Gaff… We don’t even know who Grand Duke Griffith really is, or who recommended me." Atthy took a deep breath. "There’s still too much we don’t know."

"But that means… there’s still a chance, right?" Gafy asked, eyes shining with innocent belief, as if the world still brimmed with possibility.

"You want to see the outside world that much?" Atthy asked, her tone more serious now, trying to understand her little sister’s heart.

"Mhm," Gafy nodded, her eyes filled with hope—as though the world beyond the mountains held everything she’d ever dreamed of.

Atthy fell silent, weighing everything in her mind. "Alright, Gaff. I’ll give it more thought…" she said at last, though the uncertainty still lingered in her heart. She wanted to give her sister that chance, but the unknowns kept haunting her.

"Think it through, Sis… It must be amazing to travel and see so many new things," Gafy said brightly, full of faith in her sister.

"Alright, alright… Now go to bed!" Atthy said, nudging her cheerful sister toward her mattress.

Gafy nodded with a wide grin, as though nothing in the world could stop her dreams. That night, as Atthy lay in bed, her thoughts refused to rest. Her family’s words echoed in her head—their hopes, their expectations, all wrapped in that one proposal.

Her family had always been happy, even with so little. They had accepted life as it was, without bitterness.

But this proposal… it wasn’t ordinary.

Someone was pulling the strings from the shadows.

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