006

Ten days later, Lucian and Sarang set off for New Borough at dawn. The journey was long and exhausting, but Sarang admired the view away from their hometown. The first he had ever gone without Nathan tagging along.

Sarang’s eyes softened. He wondered what Nathan was doing. Were the negotiations going smoothly? Was Nathan facing challenges he couldn’t?

Sarang heaved and glanced at his notes. He blushed and snapped the book close, attaining Lucian’s attention.

“What has you flustered?” Lucian asked and Sarang shook his head.

“It’s nothing.” Sarang said.

But it was something. Nathan was the only man on his mind, but his note was mostly full of the man sitting in front of him, it was muscle memory. Sarang finally understood Nathan’s anxiety.

He was too friendly with Master.

“We have arrived.” Lucian said and Sarang pushed the curtain aside.

New Borough was a quaint, picturesque village nestled among lush greenery. The homes were a mix of old stone buildings with thatched roofs, and newer cottages made of wood and metal. Fruit-bearing trees lined the roads with the vibrant flowers Sarang desired. Here, people sang, drank, and laughed, their joy infectious.

“Everyone looks so lively, Master.” Sarang remarked with fascination and Lucian chuckled.

“New Borough is called the gay village.”

“Because they’re always happy?”

“Because they host many festivals. At least two festivals for every season. Spring has three–today is the flower festival, praising the beauty of spring.” Lucian explained and folded the journal in his hand.

The carriage stopped outside an inn. Lucian came down first and lifted Sarang off the first step of the carriage’s stair. He tipped the coachman a gold coin after placing their lights bags at the inn’s doorstep.

They would only be exploring New Borough for three days.

Sarang reached for the bags, but Lucian snatched them. “Carry your weight.” Lucian instructed and waltzed in.

“I’m stronger than I look.” Sarang muttered, trailing behind.

Lucian brushed his finger on a wooden table. The inn was clean and bigger on the inside. The inn resembled a guild headquarter with a front desk beside the stairs, round tables and chairs arranged across the room, and a white wooden board with wanted posters, news, and letters. The inn wasn’t crowded but again… people were outside celebrating.

Lucian brushed his finger on a wooden table. Inside, the inn was surprisingly clean and spacious, its cozy wooden interior illuminated by soft, warm light. The air smelled of fresh bread and herbs, and a large bulletin board displayed wanted posters, news, and letters. It felt more like a guild hall than a simple inn.

A brunette woman in her late fifties sat at the front desk with a warm smile.

“Welcome to Penn’s inn. What can I get you lovely gentlemen?” The woman asked, her accent thick and voice high-pitched but welcoming. It reminded Sarang of the twins from camp who shared the same accent, but slightly softer.

“A room with two beds.” Lucian requested and handed her ten silver coins. “The rest goes into food and hot water.”

“Of course! Of course!” She collected the coins and jotted down their names. “You two are not from around here. Came for the festival?”

“Yes. It’s been more than twenty-five years; so much has changed.” Lucian said. The inn keeper handed him a brass key.

“The real festival doesn’t start until tonight. Would you and your lover like a hot bath now?” The inn keeper asked.

Lucian and Sarang skin turned pinkish hue. Lucian coughed to mask his fluster and Sarang shook his head.

“Not lovers. Father and son?" The inn keeper asked, keenly interested.

“He isn’t my son.” Lucian said and grabbed the key. “Let’s go.”

Sarang wandered beside Lucian and glimpsed at his master’s poker expression.  Lucian wasn’t wrong, to everyone else they were master and slave. But he couldn’t shake the disappointment of Lucian’s ambiguous answer. He shouldn’t be disappointed, but a question lingered in his mind–was he just a slave to Lucian?

After settling in, Lucian and Sarang ventured out to explore the village. Their first stop was a colourful stall selling an array of sweets, from pink plum pies and candied apples to honeycomb bread and fairy chocolate.

Sarang eagerly bit into a sour candy. His eyes watered immediately as he grimaced. “It’s so sour!” He exclaimed, tapping his cheeks. “But it leaves a sweet aftertaste. What’s it called?”

“Sour and sweet drops.” Lucian replied, chuckling at Sarang’s reaction. “Careful, too many will hurt your tongue.”

“We should keep some for young master.” Sarang suggested and sucked on his tongue.

“Next year. The sweets will go bad if we keep them.” Lucian said and stuffed a daisy cookie in Sarang’s mouth.

But next year’s too far. Sarang didn’t protest and chewed the buttery, warm cookie that had an edible nectar flower. The taste was divine.

Their next stop was a stall selling various artifacts from home and abroad—wooden figurines, glass, ceramics, and small trinkets. Sarang was captivated by a beautifully crafted music box with intricate engravings and stained glass. When he opened the lid, three ballerinas taking different stance popped up, twirling around a delicate flower. As the figures danced, a soft tune filled the air, the colours inside the box shifting in time with the melody. Sarang beamed.

“Do you like it?” Lucian asked, popping behind Sarang.

Sarang, startled, quickly closed the box and set it back on the shelf. “I think it’s pretty. but fragile.” Sarang replied and pointed at another item. “I’ll go look at other things.”

He wandered off, but Lucian lingered, his eyes on the music box. A small smile tugged at his lips as he quietly picked it, holding it for a moment before tucking it under his arm.

***

Their next stop was a florist shop recommended by the locals. Outside, flowers and potted plants lined the entrance, decorating the shop. Recognizing a few indigenous plants growing near the village entrance, Sarang entered alone, hoping to add them to the garden’s collection. After buying some seeds, Sarang left the store a little shocked.

Lucian noticed the flush on his pale cheeks and touched his forehead.

“Are you sick? Did something happen?” Lucian asked as Sarang squirmed, using the seed bag to cover his face.

“I-I’m not sick.” Sarang mumbled. Lucian glanced through the shop window.

Inside, two women playfully kissed a lunari with messy silver hair covering his eyes who nuzzled them. Their affectionate display was unmistakeable. Lucian understood Sarang’s fluster.

Polygamy was a natural part of life in New Borough, rooted in the village’s ancestry and its past as part of the country of Aelanshire. Though the practice was uncommon and discouraged in other regions, it was culturally accepted here. Lucian recalled his first encounter with this aspect of the village—he’d been taken aback by the openness of their relationships.

“Polygamy is common here. I was surprised, too, the first time I saw it.” Lucian said as they moved along.

“I’m not surprised by that. I’ve never seen such bold a display of affection.” Sarang replied and glanced at Lucian. “Did that surprise you as well?”

Lucian laughed, shaking his head. “That was the least of my shocks.”

Sarang laughed along with him, feeling more at ease.