Vol.2 Ch.22: No cake for me(Draft)

Author's Note:

I tried something new with this chapter. Let me know how you feel about it.

Recurring Characters:

Peter: The protagonist of this novel.

Mariah: Peter's mother. You can find her picture in Art collection.

Lidia: One of Mariah's friend, whom Matteo (Mariah's younger brother) used to have a crush on. She had been explored in the chapter "Dream and the past" in you're interested in her appearance when she was young.

Recap:
Peter took one with a nod, tying it under the tail. They mounted up and nudged the horses forward, using the main street to move toward the guild street, with Mariah leading the path.

…Author Note End...

...

Mariah pursed her lips, her eyes following the group of teenagers walking passed them as they entered the guild street. She could vividly recall moments when she used to similarly lead her entourage of friends toward a nearby bakery.

The memory tugged at her, filled with warm laughter, the scent of fresh bread, the carefree rhythms of feet against cobbled stone. Now, after a month of travel alongside Peter, those scenes felt like glimpses into someone else’s life, faint and unreachable.

‘Life was so simple back then,’ she mused, recalling how carefree she used to be. ‘Playing pranks on Matteo…arguing with Branna…sleepovers with Lidia.’

She sighed softly and looked to the side, spotting Peter atop his horse, eating a skewer. He glanced at her between bites, then held another one out without a word.

Mariah blinked, caught off guard, before shaking her head with a chuckle. “Not hungry,” she said.

Peter gave her a small nod and turned his attention elsewhere, chewing without comment. He didn’t press, but his silence was never indifferent.

Just moments earlier, she’d been starving. They hadn’t eaten since they’d left the others back at the campsite. But the closer they got to her home, the more her stomach twisted into knots. Hunger had vanished, replaced by anxiety.

She wasn’t so sure about meeting everyone now. For her, it’d been only a month…but for them, if she believed the increasingly certain reality…it had been decades since they last saw her.

The Guild Street of Rosefall felt both familiar and foreign. The worn cobblestones, the hanging signs creaking in the breeze, the blend of laughter and shouting that filled the air—it should have brought comfort. But instead, it made her skin crawl with unease.

Everything had changed, and yet nothing had.

Mariah kept her eyes ahead, but her thoughts twisted and turned like the alleys they passed as she encountered familiar storefronts with new names and reorganizable faces aged decades. 

She rubbed her hands together, not from cold, but to steady them. Even the air smelled the same: a mix of adventurers and merchants roaming everywhere, baked goods, and the faint tang of metal from nearby smithies. Once, she had found it lively, even charming…but right now, it was nothing but stifling.

‘Just like the streets…they too must have changed,’ The thought clawed at her confidence.

Peter finished his skewer and casually handed the stick to a passing dog, who sniffed it and trotted off. He leaned back in the saddle, one arm resting on the pommel. “How far is it?” He asked, sounding purely curious.

The question hung in the air, heavier than it should have been. Part of her wanted to turn back, to run from her own home due to what she might find—or not find—inside her home. But she also knew that if she didn’t go now, she might never find the courage again.

“Just a few shops past the next crossroad,” she said at last, her voice calm and composed. “Follow me.” With a gentle nudge, she urged her horse forward.

Peter fell in behind her, silent. Each step brought her closer to the remnants of a past she longed for, fragments blurred by time, and truths waiting to be confirmed.

At the next crossroad, they turned left, and there it was. Her eyes found it instantly.

The building stood where memory said it would, the roof still slanted just so, ivy creeping up the eastern wall like it had never left. But the door was blue now, a bright, unfamiliar shade, and the old wooden shutters had been replaced with neat glass panes that caught the afternoon light.

Mariah stared, her breath caught somewhere between her chest and throat. Slowly, she swung a leg over her saddle and slid down, landing more heavily than she meant to. Her knees wobbled, but she steadied herself with a hand on the reins.

She didn’t move right away. Just stood there, looking up at the three-story building that had once been hers, once been home. Time had been kind to it, kinder than she had hoped.

…

Tessa leaned against the wall, near the door, looking up and down the street with a tired sigh. The late afternoon sun slanted through the buildings, casting long shadows over the cobbles, but nothing interesting ever happened on this side of the inn.

It isn’t fair, she grumbled inwardly, crossing her arms and kicking a loose pebble. Why must I work at the door while Mira gets to learn to dance at the cathedral?

She scrunched her nose and glanced back inside the diner through the nearby window. Her eyes found her mother, sleeves rolled up, gesturing firmly as she ordered the workers to scrub the floors and rearrange the tables. Breakfast had just ended, and the place wouldn’t open again for a few hours.

Tessa was on gate duty—again.

Her job was simple: turn away anyone trying to sneak in for a late meal. Most locals knew the routine by now, or at the very least could read the sign posted clearly by the door. But nooo, Solace had a way of luring in country bumpkins from the outskirts, folks who thought showing up at the most famous inn on Guild Street without knowing the rules would somehow earn them a seat.

She tugged at her sleeves, then ran fingers through her shoulder-length hair that she very much liked, despite all the protests from her father. She’d helped clean the upper rooms, carried water up two flights of stairs, and was now stuck at the entrance to “greet” guests who didn’t want to be greeted.

She wasn’t even allowed to glare at them.

Tessa’s shoulders slumped. I’m stuck here, she thought bitterly. While she must be enjoying her class, dancing to the music. She probably gets snacks too. Maybe even cake.

A cart rattled past, pulled by a pair of donkeys. The driver gave her a quick nod. Tessa nodded back automatically, then let out another long sigh. She thought about sneaking off. Just for a minute. But then she'd probably miss a guest. Or worse, Mama would catch her. And that meant peeling potatoes again.

Tessa flopped dramatically against the gatepost and stared at the sky. “I’m basically a prisoner,” she mumbled. “A prisoner with chores.”

She picked at a loose thread on her sleeve, then glanced toward the street just as a woman dismounted from her horse and started to stare at their inn like it was some long-lost treasure.

Here we go again, she thought, straightening up.

Tessa cleared her throat, brushing imaginary dirt off her apron as she stepped away from the gate. “Uh, excuse me? We're closed for midday cleaning. You can come back in a few hours if you’re looking for food.”

The woman didn’t react at first. She just kept staring. Then, slowly, she turned toward Tessa with a look that wasn’t annoyed or confused… just distant, like her mind was somewhere else entirely.

Tessa frowned. “Miss?”

The woman blinked, then gave a small, almost apologetic smile. “Right. Sorry. You just look like me when I was your age.”

Tessa blinked. That wasn’t the answer she’d expected. “…Okay. I’m going to take that as a compliment, considering your beauty.”

The woman’s smile lingered for a moment, then faded as her eyes drifted back to the building.

“Umm…” Tessa said, her voice a little softer. She couldn’t help but find the lady a bit weird. Not dangerous, just... distant. She hesitated, glancing through the window toward the diner. Her mom was still in full command mode, waving a cloth in one hand and pointing with the other.

“…All rooms are already booked because of Solace,” Tessa added. “But I think the inn two streets over might still have a few left. If you’re here just for the food, you’ll need to wait a bit. Lunch prep just started.”

The woman gave a faint nod, but didn’t move.

Tessa scratched the back of her head, unsure of what to do next. She glanced at the boy still sitting quietly atop his horse, watching without saying a word. She noticed the scabbard at his hips and wondered if that was a real sword.

What an odd pair, Tessa mused, her curiosity growing as she turned and walked back to the gate.

She leaned against the post again, stealing glances every few seconds. The woman hadn’t budged. She just kept staring at the building, eyes tracing every beam, every stone, like she was memorising it. The boy said nothing, moved even less.

Is she just going to keep standing there? Tessa wondered, shifting her weight. She wasn’t sure if she should go get her mom or just let it be. After all, they weren’t causing trouble… just being weird. Still, they were definitely starting to draw attention. A few passersby slowed down, throwing curious looks in their direction.

Tessa bit her lip, ready to tell them to move along, maybe with a touch more authority in her voice this time—but before she could, the front door creaked open behind her.

Her mother stepped out, wiping her hands on a towel, eyes holding silent curiosity as she took in the scene. She didn’t say a word at first, just gave her an encouraging pat on the head.

Guess she saw them through the window, Tessa thought, letting out a quiet breath of relief.

Her mom stepped forward, gaze steady, tone neutral but firm. “Can I help you?”

The woman turned to acknowledge her mother, her eyes pulling away from their inn. She turned to face her mother fully, and for a second, it looked like she was trying to solve a puzzle, but having a hard time.

Before she could say something, the boy finally decided to speak for the first time.

“You must be Aunt Lidia,” he said, looking oddly proud at guessing her mother’s name.

Tessa’s mother blinked, the sternness on her face faltering. Her brows drew together, confused. “Excuse me?”

“Aunt Lidia,” the boy repeated, pointing at her matter-of-factly. “You look like Mom said you would. Just a little older. But still pretty.”

Her mother turned slowly to the woman, the confusion in her eyes now tinged with shock and delight. “…Mariah?”

The woman gave a small, almost embarrassed nod. “Hi, Lidia.”

Tessa’s mouth fell open. Wait, what?! She looked between the woman and her mother, brain scrambling to keep up.

Her mom took a small step back, like the ground had shifted beneath her feet. She surged forward, arms wide open and enveloped the woman, claiming to be her aunt, in a tight hug.

Tessa stared, wide-eyed, as her mother buried her face in the woman’s shoulder, holding her like someone afraid to let go.

“You idiot,” her mother whispered, voice trembling. “You absolute idiot… I missed you so much.”

Before Mariah could respond, Lidia pulled back, her eyes misty but her smile wide and full of life. She grabbed Mariah’s hand and gave it a firm squeeze. “Come, everyone will be so surprised to see you. Let’s go shock them.”

Mariah let out a soft chuckle, the tension in her shoulders finally easing. “It’s good to see you haven’t lost your love for pranks.”

Lidia grinned. “Please, I’ve just gotten better at them. And this one’s going to be legendary.”

Tessa stepped aside as the two women moved toward the door, still holding hands like they were afraid letting go would break the moment. She turned to the boy, who was standing awkwardly with the reins clutched in both hands. The horses shifted behind him, tails swishing lazily.

“Umm…where do we keep them?” he asked.

“Oh. Right,” Tessa said, snapping out of her daze. “Back alley, left side of the building. There’s a small stable behind the fence. I’ll show you.”

She started walking, motioning for him to follow. “You can tie them there. We’ve got water and feed, but if they need anything special, you’ll have to tell our stable guy. He’s usually half-asleep, so good luck.”

Peter nodded, leading the horses after her. “They’re not picky. Just tired.”

Tessa glanced at him sideways. “So,” she said slowly, “you’re really my cousin?”

Peter looked at her and gave a small shrug. “I think so.”

Tessa frowned. “That’s… weird.”

He didn’t argue, just laughed.

…End of Chapter…