Chapter 10

With all her might, Amaryah tried her best to restrain herself. She thought she was the shameless one for pretending and taking advantage of Lucian—well, she was partly telling the truth then.

But this Yaron Lucian, does he still have his dignity?

Or did it flee down the mountains from suffocation because of their small world?

Looking at where she was, it's not that she is complaining since she at least was given a place to stay, but this cabin? Really?

The clan leader and elders have their own residence at the back of their offices at the center of their mountains, but they also have a private residence.

In all their homes, she remembers there were cabins built behind for their wives and children.

Lucian had led her to the cabin farthest from his bedroom, or the place for the “least favorite” wife.

He went out again to get a healer, so she was left alone to think and mend for her hurt pride.

Yaron Lucian was just so adamant at staying single for life in the past that she never thought he would ever take a wife.

But maybe the elders succeeded at pressuring him, and he has taken a couple of wives now.

Wait, has he been picking up strays and bringing them here?

Amaryah laughed at the thought. No way. Whoever was nearest to his bedroom must be a lady from one of the leading clans.

Eld, perhaps? And the remaining could be more girls from political marriages, and one of them could be that someone who really caught Lucian's heart.

She inhaled sharply.

Just then, the wooden door to her cabin creaked open and in came Lucian with an unfamiliar face behind him.

A healer who has bags under his red eyes, with tears on the sides threatening to fall.

He must have been forcibly woken up.

When his droopy eyes dropped to her, though, his sulky appearance instantly disappeared and he stood up straight.

"Take a look at her and see what you can do to heal her," Lucian said.

"Yes, my lord." The healer bowed to him and quickly went to her side. "Please pardon me, my lady. May I take your pulse?"

Proudly sitting up, she crossed one leg over the other and showed the healer her swollen wrist. He immediately started inspecting it.

"What's your name?" she asked the healer, trying to lighten up the weird atmosphere and hoping for a useful conversation.

"It is Firal, my lady," he answered nervously as he felt Lucian's gaze land on him. He tightly closed his eyes while feeling for her pulse, thinking, "My lord! How can I concentrate properly if you keep giving me these accusing looks!"

"Firal," Lucian called in a cold voice just before Amaryah was about to speak again, making the poor healer jump in surprise. "Tell me about her condition."

"Yes," he stuttered. At the side, he caught a glimpse of the lady fixing her dirty white robes like nothing.

He is still not over the fact that his clan leader had brought her to his private home in the middle of the night.

The leader is really something. This is the first girl to ever step inside his personal space, and she is in such a peculiar condition.

"The lady's pulse is weak, my lord," he stated. "She also has life-threatening internal wounds. Her physical injuries and bruises are not serious, but they might leave some scars."

"What?" Amaryah exclaimed.

Thinking the patient was worried for her life, Firal instinctively turned to her to give her assurance.

"Do not be troubled, my lady," he said. Although he doesn't know how the girl can still act fine in this state, he figured she must have strong spiritual foundations, and her elemental spirit must be helping her. "Because you are in the Mist Mountains, your recovery will be much faster than normal. I will help you to the best of my ability."

Amaryah frowned and stood up.

"No, I meant the scars!" she asked with wide, panicked eyes. "Will they really leave scars?"

Firal was speechless for a moment. She has crushed insides, and she is panicking about having scars?

So far in Firal's mental list of ideals of the woman worthy to stand beside his lord, this kind of twisted hierarchy of things was not included. But looking at the lady, maybe this personality was a good match?

"Go prepare her medicine," Lucian interrupted and tapped his shoulder. "I'll wrap up her wounds."

"Yes, my lord," he reluctantly replied, his thoughts still somewhere else.

But wait. The lord has been going in and out of the mountains the past few years, as if he was looking for something he could never find.

Every time he arrives with only himself, he wears somber eyes and just quietly goes back to his private residence.

Rumors said his lover had run away and he was looking and chasing after her, but their clan never made a peep about what was really going on.

Could this girl be…?

Before leaving, Lucian gave him a knowing look, and Firal knew what he meant. The lord wants no one else to know about the lady.

That was also probably why he called for him, and not his master who is obviously most capable.

He could not stop shaking his head as he walked back to the medical center. His mind was completely overwhelmed by silly thoughts.

In the end, he concluded that he should not assume first, and just admired the lord for being so bold as to house a girl without the elders knowing.

Who knew the clan leader was such a man?

Inside the cabin, Lucian watched Amaryah pace back and forth as she inspected her bruised hands and arms. With a gentle voice, he spoke: "You, calm down."

He hesitated before continuing. It was rude to just call her "you," but she hasn't given him a name to call her yet. She doesn't want him to call her Amaryah, then what?

He wasn't able to ask when she snapped her fingers and scolded him.

"Zavebe! Call me Zavebe!" she exclaimed. She was standing upright in front him, head tilting up because he was taller. "The lord must have been sheltered for far too long in the mountains and forgot that people from outside have their own names!"

Slowly, with a couple blinks, Lucian licked his lower lip to refrain himself from talking back. What about Zavebe? This attitude here! Isn't this the same sharp-tongued Amaryah who did nothing but criticize him and his clan?

"Alright, Zavebe. Calm down," Lucian persuaded her. "The scars can be removed by medicine. I will let the head healer take care of them if Firal can't, okay?"

Lucian initially thought it was going to be a long night of soothing the girl. He isn't sure why, but she hates scars or any physical flaws the most.

Contrary to what he expected, Amaryah only took a few deep breaths and quietly sat back down her seat.

When she completely managed to hold herself together, she looked up to see Yaron Lucian intensely staring at her.

A roll of bandages was in his hand and he was looking at her with an unexplainable expression.

"Yes? Pardon me," she said.

Like nothing happened, Lucian just pressed some herbs to her injuries and dressed up her wounded wrist and bruised arms.

hey didn't converse and only the wheezing of insects could be heard.

Amaryah also didn't talk anymore. She was discussing her plans with the witches who have been unusually behaved ever since they arrived. Both of them had so much to think about.

Lucian, in particular, was finally noticing the big differences he could see in Amaryah.

She has obviously matured a lot. He doesn't know about her attitude yet, but for him, she did have a different air about her.

He just couldn't put a finger on it.

"Done," Lucian said after half an hour.

The name was so unfamiliar and awkward for him that he couldn't bring himself to call her again, especially when he knew who she really was.

Why can't she just admit it?

Amaryah was about to thank him when she stifled a yawn, and Lucian remembered the time. Only a few hours till the sun rises, so he hurriedly wrapped up and fixed the pillow and bed.

"You must be exhausted. You should rest." Lucian tapped the top of the pillow, inviting her to lie down.

Amaryah looked tired and vulnerable. She weakly lied in bed.

Although she wanted to be alert, her body was not cooperating with her. She must have reached her limit.

She closed her eyes just as a hum started invading her system.

Lucian was singing quietly, imbuing a little spell of a good night's rest to his song. He carefully unfolded the nearby blanket and covered Amaryah up to the shoulders.

He at least wanted to let her change before, but watching her almost collapsed, he didn't have the heart to.

He also noticed how tensed up Amaryah was the whole time. Shoulders squared, jaw clenched, and guards up.

Seeing her muscles relaxed and hearing her even breathing, he was finally able to rest assured and leave.

However, before he could completely shut the door of the cabin, he thought he heard her say something.

When he peeked inside, Amaryah was still asleep. He shrugged it off as delusions from exhaustion after a hard day's work.

Inside the cabin, Amaryah has her lips slightly parted. A whisper floated out of her mouth from time to time: "Help…"