The morning light spilled gently through the wooden shutters, filling the small inn room with a soft golden glow. The muffled sound of distant chatter and clinking pots filtered in from the streets below. Outside, preparations for the Harvest Festival had already begun, but inside, the world felt slower — warmer.

  Roland sat at the small round table, resting his elbows lightly against its polished surface. A modest breakfast lay between him, Flora, and Soliana — soft bread, fresh fruit, and a pot of honey still warm from the oven.

  Soliana sat opposite him, hands clasped tightly in her lap as she glanced at him from beneath her lashes. She hesitated for a long moment before her quiet voice broke the stillness.

  “…Thank you,” she whispered.

  Roland blinked, lowering the slice of bread halfway to his mouth. “Huh?”

  Soliana’s fingers fidgeted with the hem of her sleeve as she repeated, even softer this time, “For… leaving us alone yesterday.”

  Roland blinked again, realizing she meant when he gave her and Flora time together after their reunion. He hesitated, unsure how to respond, then managed a small nod.

  “…It wasn’t a big deal,” he muttered.

  Soliana shook her head faintly but said nothing more. Her soft gratitude lingered in the air, unspoken but strangely comforting. For someone who barely spoke, her sincerity carried weight. Roland found himself smiling faintly without meaning to.

  The moment was broken by a sudden knock at the door.

  Before anyone could respond, the door swung open with a creak, and a familiar voice burst into the room.

  “Morning! …Ooh, is that breakfast?”

  Anastasia leaned against the doorframe, her long wavy hair slightly messy, eyes glowing bright orange-crimson in the morning light. Without waiting for an invitation, she stepped in, plopping herself into the empty seat at the table as if it belonged to her.

  “Your breakfast looks way better than mine,” she said cheerfully, already reaching for a piece of bread. “Mine was just dry porridge and half an apple. Totally unfair.”

  Roland almost choked on his water, Flora froze mid-bite, and Soliana blinked wide-eyed, unsure whether to be polite or terrified.

  Anastasia, unfazed by the awkward stares, smiled innocently as she bit into the bread. “Mm. Better already.”

  Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

  Flora sighed softly with a smile. “You must be Anastasia, Roland’s new friend. I’m guessing you were going to invite him to the festival?”

  “Yup!” Anastasia said between bites as she raised her right hand like holding a sword. “But your breakfast looked lonely. I rescued it. You’re welcome.”

  Roland stared at her, caught between disbelief and amusement. “You’re a shameless one.”

  “Thanks!” she said brightly, mistaking it for a compliment.

  They finished their meal — or rather, watched Anastasia finish most of it — and soon the conversation shifted.

  “This village is cute,” Anastasia said suddenly, leaning back in her chair. “But I bet Inferna’s capital is even bigger, right? Must be packed with people, markets, parades, the works.”

  Roland hesitated, taking a sip of water like its tea to buy time. “…Sort of. It’s… different.”

  “Different how?”

  “It’s… quieter,” he said after a moment, his voice softer than intended. “Festivals are more… formal there. Not like this.”

  Anastasia tilted her head, resting her chin on her palm as she studied him. “Huh. So no chaotic street games, random food stalls, or throwing candy at strangers?”

  Flora smiled softly “Your gesture reminds me of the Reina Kingdom, which I assume where you hailed from. Here in Inferna, we have very different cultures.”

  “Mm,” Anastasia hummed, grinning. “Guess that makes this festival my chance to show you how it’s really done.”

  Before Roland could reply, she slammed her hands against the table suddenly, making Soliana jump in surprise.

  “Oh wait! I forgot! Festival starts in an hour! We have to go now!”

  Roland blinked, taken aback. “Wait, what—”

  “You, me, and your sister over there,” she declared, counting on her fingers. “It’s decided then!”

  Roland frowned. “Sister? Soliana? Do I look like I have blue hair?”

  Anastasia blinked once, tilted her head, then grinned. “Ohhh… so not sister. Girlfriend then?”

  Roland nearly choked on his water. “What?! No!”

  Soliana shrank slightly under Anastasia’s enthusiasm, glancing toward her mother for rescue. But Flora only smiled softly and nodded, gently brushing a stray lock of Soliana’s hair back.

  “Go,” Flora said gently. “Have fun together.”

  Anastasia grinned, victorious.

  “I’ll accompany them,” Leon’s voice came from the corner. He had been silent the entire time, standing near the doorway with his arms crossed. “And I’ll deal with the expenses.”

  Roland turned slightly, noticing Leon’s unusually sharp gaze as he glanced out the window toward the busy streets. Something about his posture seemed… different, cautious, prepared.

  Anastasia clapped her hands together, ignoring the faint tension in the air. “Perfect! Let’s go!”

  She hopped off her chair, brushing crumbs off her clothes before heading toward the door. Soliana followed quietly, looking back at Flora, while Roland rose slowly from his seat.

  When they stepped outside, the world had changed.

  Inferna’s banners stretched across cobblestone streets. The sound of merchants and laughter carried on the breeze. Stalls lined the walkways, filled with vibrant cloth, trinkets, and the scent of fresh-baked bread and grilled meat. Children darted past, chasing each other through the festival crowds.

  Roland paused on the threshold, taking it all in. The warmth, the colors, the noise… it was unlike Inferna’s cold, measured celebrations. There was no formality here, no suffocating weight of status.

  He breathed in slowly, feeling the soft autumn air against his skin.

  “This… feels different,” he thought, watching as Anastasia’s hair caught the sunlight like strands of gold, running past him as she pushes Soliana forward. “Warm. Alive. Like a place untouched by Inferna’s cruelty.”

  Roland felt something stir deep within his chest — light and fragile, yet impossibly real, a true sense of adventure.