Chapter 42 - The Farm in Irttat
Chapter 42: Visitor from the Royal Capital 08
Fortunately, she hid and dodged all the way without being caught by the army for conscription.
Over a month's journey passed. She watched withered yellow leaves fall from trees, leaving only pitch-black bare branches.
When Stasia arrived at Heberley City, the land of Eaton completely welcomed winter.
The dry north wind blew up a few strands of loose hair by her temples. The snow-white fox fur on the cloak hood had already turned gray, constantly swaying with the wind's direction.
She tucked the temple hair behind her ear, looked up at the secure, dignified city gate, and frowned.
This city was too peaceful, out of place amidst the rising beacon fires on all sides.
She proved her identity. The guards had her wait outside the city gate for a while. Her sister sent someone to take her home.
Stasia sat in the rumbling carriage, lifted the curtain to look at both sides of the street.
The winter streets were extremely desolate. Pedestrians lowered their heads, expressions hurried, with a somewhat tense atmosphere, but compared to cities outside being burned, killed, and plundered, it was already too mild.
Her sister's appearance was as always, wearing a black cloak with woven flowers, standing before the hall door. Only she looked much gloomier than three years ago, appearing more difficult to approach.
Stasia was full of doubts. The first thing she said upon seeing her sister was asking about the war, but only got her sister's faint response: "We are Kenting subjects now."
The other shoe dropped. As if expected, but Stasia still froze in place.
The north wind passed through the hall, making people's hearts cold.
"Sister, you... surrendered?"
"What else could I do?" Sister answered coldly: "For the sake of your passionate blood, fill all the city people's lives into it? Eaton is already going to perish. Why should I defend this country for the royal capital, for the people who killed our mother, and be buried with it?"
Stasia wanted to open her mouth to refute but couldn't speak.
Her sister seemed to mistake her silence for fear and softened slightly. “Don’t worry. I ceded the surrounding territories but kept control of the main city. When the new king ascends, we’ll still hold a title—perhaps counts. Just not as glorious as before. You'll have to make do."
Stasia said angrily: "I don't care about this!"
Her sister’s expression darkened.
Their relationship already had a tacit crack three years ago. Now with disagreeing words, split open completely.
The two parted on bad terms.
Stasia's belly full of pent-up anger pressed on her heart. She paced in her own courtyard half the night. The next day she discovered she couldn't leave anymore.
The guard conveyed the city lord's order rigidly: "The city lord says she guards the city with difficulty. She asks the young lord to rest well at home and not go out to ruin her affairs. Study etiquette properly. Don't touch those bottles and jars anymore. Going out in the future will only disgrace the Heberley family."
Stasia laughed in anger.
She could simply imagine sister's impatient expression when saying this: "Throw away all your things. I don't want people saying the Heberley family produced an evil devil."
At such times, her sister and mother's faces were truly identical.
Stasia tried escaping, tried smashing things. Later, as if crazy, she slit her wrists, threw vases towards rounds of male servants. All to no avail.
She was like a fish trapped in shallow water, with strength but nowhere to use it. She quickly became dejected.
Memories of this winter were too monotonous. Recalling it, Stasia only remembered the dark, remote garden, vast white snow, and raised flesh-colored knife scars left on her wrists one after another.
She lived dejectedly for a long time until the following spring when the allied army of Kenting and Spring occupied the Eaton royal capital. Only then did Stasia belatedly hear the news from servants' mouths.
The glass vase of flower arrangements in her hand fell to the ground with a "clink." Fragments flew everywhere. Overnight flower water wet the carpet.
Stasia shuddered.
She grabbed the collar of that loose-mouthed male servant, coldly demanding: "What about the crown prince? Do you know any news about the crown prince?"
The male servant was frightened by this young lord's cold gaze and answered stammering: "Heard, heard she went missing."
Not death. Stasia actually felt a bit fortunate.
With the situation settled, her sister finally allowed her to leave.
The very next day, Stasia took a bag of gold, mounted a horse, and rode toward the capital.
Kelsey wasn’t dead. She had to find her.
She passed through slums of various cities, treated some people, and dissected some new corpses. Her understanding of human body structure also deepened.
Wandering like this for three years, Stasia met Javena traveling outside.
At that time, Javena was in the mayor's probation period, accepting the previous mayor's task—going out to examine the continent's situation and bring back a satisfactory gift for the small town.
Competing with her was Aurora, the previous mayor's child who had competed with her since childhood.
Whoever brought back a gift more welcomed by townspeople, bringing more new atmosphere to Irttat, could become the new mayor.
The gift Javena chose was Stasia.
That was a late winter with lingering coldness. Stasia had just finished suturing a wound for a girl lying on a slum street. Looking up, she saw Javena staring at her with bright, shining eyes.
This blonde woman's clothing wasn't exquisite but was much cleaner and more respectable than ordinary commoners. She possessed a vitality nobles didn't have, and a precious quality Stasia had almost never seen in others: curiosity.
A strange woman.
She thought this and was about to detour away, never expecting Javena to latch onto her.
Stasia was impatient. Javena was persistent. The two talked at cross purposes, entangling for half a day before Stasia discovered Javena wasn't interested in herself but in the scalpel in her hand.
She was actually praising her act of suturing human flesh and blood as very clever.
Heavens, this devil-like behavior of Stasia's had never received a single affirmation before. Even Kelsey only respected her hobby.
She asked hesitantly: "Don't you think my suturing people's wounds... is very bloody?"
Javena was enthusiastic: "This is simply art! I never thought human wounds could accelerate healing in this way. If this child hadn't met you, no amount of medicine would work, right?"
Stasia's long-silent gaze lit up.
She said: "You're really different from those stup— ordinary people."
Javena seized the opportunity to begin marketing Irttat. After passionately lobbying for half an hour, she finally concluded: "We need a doctor like you to treat injured hunters! I guarantee no one will throw stones at you, much less call you a monster. We respect doctors very much!"
Although Stasia was very tempted, she still refused: "I need to find someone. I can't go with you."
Finally, Javena's hundred attempts at persuasion bore no fruit. She could only leave her contact information and return to the small town with immense regret, carrying a medical book on human body structure Stasia had gifted.
This book aroused tremendous interest among townspeople, even panic: "Humans are always like this, wanting to explore everything! Who could have thought they would actually cut open corpses to explore the secrets inside the human body? This will have a huge impact on the medical field."
That same year, mayor competitor Aurora's gift—rice seeds—was also promoted in town. Coarse rice began appearing on people's tables.
Unfortunately, people weren't enthusiastic about this food.
Flour at this time could already be ground very finely. Rice, as a new food, hadn't been discovered to have very good processing methods. Therefore, only very few people liked this food.
Javena, relying on this worn medical book buried for nearly ten years but with epoch-making significance, overwhelmed the ostentatious Aurora and seized the mayor's position.
And Stasia, after wandering for several years, finally disheartened, following the address young Javena had left, rode a thin horse and felt her way here.
She hid her past and relied on a scalpel to open a surgical clinic in town. Her days passed plainly and peacefully.
And just when she'd almost forgotten those pasts, this summer festival made her pick everything up again.
Some memories turned out to be just there.
Needing only one glance, she could remember everything that made her tremble.
The instant she met those slightly upturned deep green eyes, she felt an extremely familiar oppressive force. But quickly, that oppression disappeared, replaced by a mist-like gentleness.
That was the same familiar profundity and bottomless tolerance.
In a trance, as if returning to that midsummer thirteen years ago.
Stasia's entire spine seemed to surge with an electric current, making her whole person seized, standing dazedly in place.
Tears fell in a daze.
Kelsey's changes were great.
The former idle princess was handsome and calm, wearing elaborately crafted white shirts year-round, a flute at her waist, soft blonde hair—like a beautiful youth symbolizing art in mythology.
After becoming crown prince, she became much colder, always straightening her spine, long hair bundled and hanging, sword at her waist. Having killed many people, she naturally carried an awe-inspiring fierceness and dignity that made people submit.
But no matter when, she was always respectable, neat, aloof and elegant. Former Stasia was always the one out of line in front of her.
And the current Kelsey had become casual and relaxed, hair withered, clothing careless, skin rough. Except for her habitually straight spine and graceful bearing, almost no trace of nobility could be seen—simply like the out-of-line Stasia from thirteen years ago.
Conversely, Stasia's clothing and bearing had settled much. Her steady demeanor instead carried shadows of the former Kelsey.
Time was truly a magical thing. It changed everything. Just ten years could blur those pasts as if separated by lifetimes.
But something uniquely hadn't changed—they knew with one glance at each other.
That moment, I knew—
I desired her just as I had thirteen years ago.
God, I had already been without desire or demand.
If this is my life's last chance, please forgive me for indulging that base, filthy, unspeakable desire.
I'm willing to give up my past and not think of the dim future.
I only want from this moment on, to possess her long and forever, kneading her into my bones, my blood, my soul, my everything.
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