Roberdin was visibly overflowing with refugees. As Veronica surveyed the coastal city she and Leon had traveled so far to reach, doubt crept into her mind. Is this really the right choice? What if this place turns out to be dangerous?
The salty breeze seemed to have done more than just sweep away traces of the Bahamuts’ destruction—it had breathed new life into the city. The rhythmic sound of hammers rang out from buildings under repair, while the streets bustled with people carrying heavy loads. Though Veronica had stepped boldly into the street at first, she soon found herself hunching her shoulders at the unfamiliarity of this foreign place. It was then that Leon, who had been following protectively behind her, took her hand.
“It would be troublesome to lose you in such a chaotic place,” he murmured, his deep voice a comforting rumble against her ear.
Though his gaze remained fixed straight ahead as if it were nothing special, the simple fact of being with him sent waves of relief spreading from her fingertips throughout her entire body.
Emerging from her daze, Veronica suddenly asked, “I find it magical sometimes that you always know exactly what I need before I even ask. Have you been secretly practicing mind reading?”
“I don’t need magic to understand you,” he replied simply.
“How then?”
“You told me yourself when we were talking about the Foundation Festival.” Leon pulled her closer against him to shield her from a passerby who might have bumped her shoulder, and continued, “You said that in crowded streets, you wished someone would hold your hand so you wouldn’t get lost.”
Veronica’s eyes widened in surprise.
“You also mentioned that one day your father suddenly took your hand and ran, which delighted you, but it was only because he was rushing to buy discounted rye bread. But the bread was frozen solid from the winter cold, making it nearly impossible to chew.”
“Ah… yes, that’s right. That’s why I still hate rye bread to this day. The porridge my mother made by soaking it in water was delicious when I was little, but strangely, when I tried to recreate it years later, that comforting taste was nowhere to be found. I can’t believe I shared such trivial memories with you…”
What astonished her more was that he’d treasured such minor details and committed them to his memory. He seemed to remember every single word she had ever spoken, storing them away like precious gems.
As she was ruminating on that, Leon suddenly stopped before a street vendor displaying various meats.
“Do you purchase game as well?” Leon asked.
“Depends on what kind of meat we’re talking about. What’s that you’ve got?” the merchant replied, nodding toward the bundle secured to Leon’s horse.
“A peacock. If the eyes on the feathers remain completely intact, what would you offer?”
“I’ll give you thirty gold pieces for it,” the merchant countered.
While the negotiation continued, Veronica maintained her grip on Leon’s strong hand, merely turning her head to survey their surroundings. She could gauge the inflated market rates just by noting that a single ear of corn commanded one silver coin—ten times the price from before the Bahamuts’ devastation. The economy had been utterly upended. Watching people bartering fish for grain, it seemed such exchanges would flourish until some stability returned to their broken world.
If we manage to secure some extra land, I should grow vegetables myself. It would be wonderful to raise livestock for fresh milk and eggs too…
While she was absorbed in these practical dreams of self-sufficiency, Leon briefly released her hand to unload the peacock from his mount. Veronica seized the opportunity to approach a stall that had caught her eye. In a steaming cauldron, the vendor was brewing meat stew sold by the bowlful. It was an aroma she normally savored, but suddenly—without warning—her stomach violently rebelled.
“Ugh,” she choked, reflexively covering her mouth as bile rose in her throat.
As she backed away hastily, she collided with Leon’s broad chest. He had just received his pouch of gold coins, and his expression instantly transformed from satisfaction to alarm as he cupped her chin, tilting her face up to examine her complexion.
“Is your stomach upset?” he asked, his brow furrowing with concern. “I remember you skipped breakfast this morning because nothing appealed to you.”
“It’s nothing serious,” she attempted to reassure him. “I think the exhaustion is just hitting me all at once now that we’ve reached our destination.”
“Any other discomfort I should know about?”
“Nothing worth mentioning. Goodness, you’re fussing like a mother hen. I’ll be perfectly fine after a bit of rest.”
In truth, both her chest and abdomen had been plagued by sharp, stabbing pains since dawn, but Veronica forced a bright smile and feigned wellness. If she told him the truth, this overprotective man would undoubtedly become gravely concerned over a single bout of nausea and scour the entire city for a doctor.
“I’ll secure us lodging immediately, so hold on just a little longer,” he said.
“Didn’t you say you needed to meet someone you know here?”
“That can wait until after I’ve seen you safely settled.”
Leon had previously mentioned having an acquaintance in Roberdin—someone resilient enough to have survived even the Bahamuts' devastating attack. Apparently, this person was indebted to Leon and would help with their settlement. The sun still hung high in the sky, so meeting this contact now must have been his original intention.
A pang of guilt stabbed through her chest at the thought of disrupting his plans.
“I’m truly fine,” she insisted. “Just slightly light-headed, that’s all.”
“Light-headed?” His concern instantly doubled. “Can you walk steadily?”
Her attempt to minimize her discomfort had only intensified his worry. One more word, and he looked poised to sweep her into his arms and carry her through the streets. Confronted with his unyielding protective stance, Veronica finally shook her head in resignation and surrendered to his care.
They entered a grand establishment called “Son of Snow,” the closest inn along the main thoroughfare. Despite her stubborn insistence that she was fine, drowsiness enveloped her like a heavy cloak the moment she sank into the warm, soothing bath. After endless days of washing in icy streams and sleeping on hard ground, reclining on the clean, downy feather bed felt like heaven itself. Leon maintained his vigilant watch beside her until sleep claimed her completely.
So perhaps that was why she felt disoriented when she opened her eyes again, much later. When she woke up amid the loud patter of rain outside the window, Veronica lay alone in the large bed.