Page 79 of Lost Heir
I nodded. “It’s when I’m at my strongest. Why would they do it then? It can’t be a coincidence.”
Ronan shrugged. “I don’t know.”
Silas bit his lip. “I don’t know, Ro. Something doesn’t seem right. I understand why the chief wants to move fast, but this seems rushed. And Leila is right; completing the ceremony during a full moon when she’s at her strongest doesn’t make much sense.”
The three of us glanced at one another before Ronan turned to Silas. “Can I ask you to do some digging around? That way we can at least be prepared for any surprises they might want to spring at us.”
Silas nodded. “Of course. I’ll gather some information and bring it to you by morning, unless it’s an emergency. Oh! I was going to get Leila some lotus cookies.”
Ronan’s smile appeared. “Don’t worry; I’ll take her around the village and get her some. Thank you, Silas.” He patted his friend’s back.
“Sure thing. See you both later.”
The afternoon suncast a warm glow over the village as Ronan led me through the bustling market. The air was filled with a mix of scents that were both unfamiliar and enticing. Vendors shouted about their wares and competed for customers, selling everything from spiced meats to fresh, vibrant vegetables, but Ronan had a specific destination in mind.
“Here,” Ronan said, pulling me toward a small, unassuming stall that was decorated with strings of dried flowers and herbs. “As Silas said, youhaveto try these,” he insisted, his voice filled with excitement.
The stall owner, an elderly woman with a kind, wrinkled face and crimson eyes beamed at us. “Ah, Ronan, you’re back! Brought a friend today?” Her eyes twinkled as she glanced at me.
Ronan nodded. “Yes, this is … Leila. Leila, this is Hana. She makes the best lotus cookies in all the Grasslands.”
Hana chuckled, her laughter as rich and warm as the afternoon sun. “Oh, you flatter me, young man. Butyou, dear,” she said, turning to me, “try these and tell me if he's telling the truth.” She handed me a small, delicate cookie, its edges perfectly crisp with a soft, almost translucent center.
I bit into the cookie and the taste was like nothing I had ever experienced. It was sweet, but not overwhelmingly so, with a hint of something floral that must have been the lotus. The texture was divine, melting almost instantly when it touched my tongue.
“They're incredible!” I admitted, unable to hide my delight.
Ronan's face lit up with a proud grin. “I told you,” he said. “Hana, we'll take a dozen.”
As Hana packaged the cookies, I took the moment to observe the village activity around me. Children ran past, playing with homemade toys, and the air buzzed with the chatter of daily life. It was peaceful here, a stark contrast to the ever-present political tensions of the palace.
Ronan handed me the package of cookies, his hand lingering on mine as he did. “There’s more to see, and even more to taste,” he promised, his voice low and inviting.
I nodded, excitement bubbling within me. My heart was full of anticipation for other secrets Ronan might share with me about his home.
The simplicity and warmth of the Grasslands wereinfectious, and I found myself wishing the day would never end. Especially since my death was imminent. I think we were both hoping for a distraction for what lay ahead.
Ronan guided me to another vibrantly colored stall draped with various fruits and spices displayed like a painter's palette. “You must try the fire berries,” he said, picking up a small, bright red fruit that looked innocent enough, but which promised a burst of intense flavor.
I wisely hesitated; I’d heard stories of their potency. “Are they as fiery as they say?”
Ronan laughed, a sound that made the worries of the past few days seem distant. “Only one way to find out.” He popped one into his mouth, his expression teasing.
Encouraged by his boldness, I took one and gingerly bit into it. The berry was a burst of sweet heat that somehow didn't overwhelm but delighted with its complex flavors. “Wow, that’s surprisingly good!” I exclaimed, reaching for another.
“See? There’s magic in the Grasslands' food,” Ronan boasted, his eyes gleaming with pride for his homeland.
We moved on, stopping here and there for Ronan to introduce me to more of the local delicacies—each one adding layers to my understanding of the Grasslands and its rich, vibrant culture. Ronan seemed to relish sharing this part of his life with me, and every smile and look he gave filled me with warmth.
Eventually, we reached the edge of the market where the crowd thinned and the view opened to a sprawling field dotted with wildflowers. The sun had begun its slow descent, casting a golden hue as its broad rays lazily brushed the land.
“Let’s take a break,” Ronan suggested. He pointedtowards a small hill that offered a panoramic view of the village and its surrounding fields.
We climbed the hill and sat on a patch of soft, lush grass. The village was nothing more than a gentle hum in the background as we soaked in the peaceful scene before us. I retrieved the package of lotus cookies and handed one to Ronan.
“As much as I love showing you the Grasslands, it’s these quiet moments I treasure the most,” he said, his voice soft.
I nodded as a deep sense of peace settled over me. “I can see why you love it here,” I responded, taking in the view, the scents, and the sounds. “It feels a world away from everything.”
