Chapter Five

I woke up in a dimly lit room, my memory hazy after being attacked by thugs. My body ached, and my head throbbed with pain. Wondering where I was, I strained to see through the dimness. Surprisingly, I could spot a lantern on the wall and another nearby, despite the pain. A nauseating smell filled the air, adding to my confusion.

Struggling, I propped myself up with my good elbow, attempting to understand my surroundings. Four walls enclosed me, adorned with only a large portrait and a wooden table tucked in a corner. There were no other furnishings or electronics in sight. The possibility crossed my mind that the beating might have left me blind, but I could discern the faint light and the room's sparse contents, so that idea was promptly crossed out.

"Where the hell am I?" I muttered, scrunching my nose at my bad breath before mustering the strength to rise. Stumbling across the room, I reached for the door and pulled it open, stepping outside. 

To my surprise, there were five people – a man and four women – seated around a bench, eating. My sudden appearance startled them; one of the women let out a loud squeal of surprise.

"You're awake," The man said, rising to his feet. "You slept for two days."

"Where am I?" I demanded.

"Havindelle. My daughter and I found you unconscious by the side of the road and brought you home," The man explained. "Are you okay?"

"I have a splitting headache," I grunted, clutching the back of my head and feeling a small bump. "Thank you for rescuing me."

"You're welcome."

"If it's not too much of a bother, can I get a toothbrush? Do you have a spare?" I questioned. "Also, I reek of my sweat and it's making me itchy. Where's the bathroom?"

"Er... My daughter, Esther, will get you a toothbrush and fetch water so you can take your bath," the man answered.

Immediately, Esther rose to her feet, excused herself from the group, and disappeared through a second doorway. The night air felt chilly, and I realized I was in my underwear when I shuddered violently from the cold.

Esther, the woman, returned holding a lantern in one hand and a toothbrush, toothpaste, towel, and clothes in her other hand. She brought them to me, and I hesitantly took them, allowing her to guide me to the back of the house where a decrepit outhouse stood. My earlier nausea surged back when Esther informed me that this was the bathroom and toilet.

"Together?" I raised my brows so high I feared they'd vanish into my hairline.

"Yes," she confirmed, walking forward to unlatch and open the door. I couldn't see inside despite the lantern, but there was no way I was stepping foot in there. She left to fetch water and returned with a bucket.

"No shower?" I asked.

"No, there's no shower," she replied. "I'll leave this here for you. You're welcome to join us for dinner." With that, she hung up the lantern, leaving me to my fate.

Reluctantly, I entered the cramped space, struggling to latch the door. Holding my breath, I forced myself through the ordeal, bathing quickly and brushing, and rushed out as if my life depended on it.

Wearing someone else's clothes made my skin itch, but these smelled of detergent, leaving me no choice if I didn't want to roam town in my underwear. By the time I returned to the man and his family, dinner had ended, and his daughters had gone to bed. He sat with his wife, engaging in conversation.

"Feeling better now?" He inquired.

"Just... Yeah," I replied, refraining from complaining about my situation; I had chosen this path. There was no turning back. "Thanks."

"Please, have a seat," His wife offered, vacating her chair for me. "You must be hungry. I'll get you something to eat."

"I'm okay," I said as I took my seat, but my stomach betrayed me with a loud growl, contradicting my statement.

"I'll be back," The woman smiled and disappeared through the second doorway.

I had never been shy or awkward with strangers due to our upbringing attending social gatherings and hosting parties, so social awkwardness wasn't my usual state. However, the prolonged silence was tying my insides in knots.

"Um... Thank you once again for saving me," I said, deciding to break the silence.

"It's nothing. I'm just glad you're okay," He replied. "The knife wound in your side isn't very deep, so it should heal without any problems. Remind me to dress the wound again to prevent infection."

His wife brought a tray with food and water, placed it on the bench, and pushed it towards me. After smiling at me, she walked away. I cautiously lifted the lid of the plate, revealing yam and egg sauce, a dish I had never tried before. Despite my picky eating habits, I didn't want to give that impression and began eating. 

Between bites, I murmured, "This is so good." 

The man then shared, "I don't mean to boast, but my wife is renowned as the best cook in the entire Kingdom. She always wins cooking competitions, making other women hesitant to participate."

Impressed, I nodded and replied, "I have no doubt, sir." 

I finished my meal, craving more but refrained from asking for seconds. When the woman returned to collect the tray, I expressed my gratitude, saying, "Thank you very much for dinner, ma'am. I truly enjoyed it."

"You're welcome, dear. I'm pleased you enjoyed it," She said with a smile before departing.

"What's your name, son?" He inquired. "And are you here to visit someone, or are you planning to stay?"

"I'm here to stay. Honestly, I don't recall what happened or how I ended up here," I admitted.

"As I mentioned earlier, my daughter and I discovered you unconscious on the roadside and brought you home. Unfortunately, we couldn't afford to take you to the hospital," He explained. "What's your name?"

I hesitated, debating whether to reveal my real name. Fearing the consequences, I decided against it, reluctant to risk being traced back to a life I wanted to escape.

"My name is Justice." I blurted out the first name that came to my mind. 

"Nice to meet you, Justice. I'm Cyril Jonas." Cyril extended his hand for a handshake, and I shook it. "Havindelle used to be peaceful until recently; now, unidentified thugs are robbing people and businesses. Despite numerous reports to the King, nothing has been done, so we've all given up." He said.

My plan to get an apartment was now impossible; I had no money, and asking Cyril if I could stay with him couldn't be an option. Becoming a burden on his family felt like a crime, but I had no other choice.

Cyril inquired if I had anyone I could call for help. "Like a family member?" He asked. 

"No, I don't think so. I really can't remember anything." I replied. Despite my guilt for lying, revealing my true identity could have dire consequences. My father was formidable, and Cyril Jonas would not want to be in his bad books.

Cyril seemed shocked. "At all?" He questioned.

"Yes, sir." I confirmed.

He mentioned his daughter's observation about my healing from an accident. "Is that true?" He inquired. 

I nodded. "Yes, sir. I had an accident, but I can't remember it either."

"That's serious. It must have been so fatal that you can't remember it. Anyway, thank God that you survived the accident." Cyril reflected. Despite his reassurance, a sudden sneeze overtook me in the cold breeze. I tried to conceal my discomfort, but Cyril noticed and promptly stood up.

"Let's go inside before you catch a cold and your fever returns." He suggested. 

Following his lead, I returned to the house. He locked the doors and partially closed the windows, explaining that the nights could get extremely cold and rain was imminent. The distant rumble of thunder confirmed his words, and I nodded in understanding.

"We only have two bedrooms. My daughters share one, and I use the other. Honestly, you seem unaccustomed to this kind of life," He observed. 

He was right. Until I turned ten, my mom had pampered me, doing everything for me, from brushing my teeth to dressing me. Julian, my sibling, had escaped this pampering much sooner and teased me about it.

A door leading to one of the rooms opened, and a young woman dressed in shorts and an oversized shirt emerged, carrying a worn-out bed and a thin blanket. The bed looked so flat that sleeping on it would probably feel like lying directly on the floor. She appeared to be a year younger than me or around my age, and she was the most beautiful woman I had ever met.

She had an oval face with prominent cheekbones, chocolate brown eyes, and lips that could inspire sonnets. I couldn't help but wonder if she had a boyfriend; surely, a woman like her couldn't be single.

"This is my youngest daughter, Edwina," Cyril introduced. "His name is Justice."

"Nice to meet you, sir," She said, averting her gaze and blushing slightly. If I cared about my love life, I might have thought she found me attractive.

A beautiful name for a gorgeous woman. "Likewise, Edwina." I remarked.

"Just... Eddie," She muttered, spreading the bed on the mat I had slept on earlier, making me wince.

"I don't know why you like to shorten your name," Her father complained. "Isn't Edwina a beautiful name, Justice?"

"It is indeed, sir," I replied. "It's as if you knew just the kind of name that would fit her."

Cyril laughed. "My wife and I thought we were going to have a baby boy and came up with the name Edwin. When my darling daughter arrived, I couldn't bear to change the name, so I named her Edwina."

"It's a beautiful name, sir," I acknowledged.

"See?" He glanced at his daughter, who promptly fled the room. From the look on Edwina's face, it seemed she had interpreted her father's words differently than he intended.

"Is this not her bed?" I inquired.

"No, it's spare," He replied. "Have a good night."

"Thank you, sir. Goodnight." I bid him farewell and waited until he had passed through a second door, shutting it behind him. Then, I lifted the bed, yanked out the mat from underneath, folded it, and tossed the mat aside. 

I knew I had to do something about my current situation if I didn't want to continue using this excuse of a bed much longer.