CHAPTER 23: CH 23: SECOND RESCUE - PART 5

It didn’t take long for Mira’s initial gratitude to twist into resentment. At first, she had been thankful to be alive, thankful to have food in her belly and warmth against her skin.

But when her body began to ache from the endless repetitions of carrying, planting, and walking the fields, that gratitude quickly soured.

Her legs burned. Her shoulders throbbed. Her hands were blistered red. She wanted to rest, but Lucian only allowed her the briefest of pauses before making her continue again.

Berry noticed the way Mira’s expression shifted from exhaustion to quiet hatred.

She never voiced it aloud—she wasn’t that foolish—but her narrowed eyes and the muttered curses under her breath made her feelings clear.

"Lucian, shouldn’t we let her rest a bit more? She’s still recovering. If we push her too hard, it might—"

Berry finally said, hesitant, as Mira sat on a log panting heavily

Lucian didn’t even look up from the wood he was carving into a crude tool. His small hands moved with precision, his childish body betraying none of the sharp authority in his tone.

"She’s working in moderation. If I wanted to break her, I’d have her running laps in the snow. Walking around and stretching her limbs will keep her blood flowing. If she lies around too long, stiffness will settle in. And then she really won’t recover."

Lucian replied calmly.

Berry frowned but didn’t argue. He knew Lucian wasn’t the type to speak without reason. Still, his heart ached as he watched Mira grit her teeth and force herself upright again.

By the end of the day, the results were undeniable. Mira’s steps had steadied. She no longer winced with every movement.

Her curses had grown softer, less frequent, until she finally stopped muttering altogether. Though her resentment hadn’t disappeared, a grudging acceptance had replaced it.

That evening, Lucian handed her a small wooden bowl—one he had carved himself. It wasn’t smooth; the edges were jagged, and it leaned slightly to the side.

But to Mira, who had eaten off dirty snow and frozen bark for days before they found her, it was more valuable than silver.

"Eat."

Lucian said simply.

Mira sniffed at the contents suspiciously. The stew inside was pale and watery, with a faintly bitter scent rising from it.

Lucian had added herbs, claiming they would help her recovery.

"It might taste off, but it will strengthen your body. Just eat it."

Lucian admitted bluntly.

Mira hesitated only a moment before scooping a bite into her mouth.

Her eyes widened instantly, and without another word, she began devouring the food with a ferocity that startled even Berry.

"...She likes it?"

Lucian whispered, more to himself than anyone else.

He blinked, watching the girl scrape the bowl clean as if afraid it would vanish before she could finish. A faint frown tugged at his lips.

"Strange. I thought the taste would be unbearable. It’s bland. Bitter, even."

To prove his point, Lucian took a spoonful himself—and immediately grimaced. The taste was earthy, sharp, the bitterness lingering at the back of his tongue.

"This is awful."

he muttered flatly.

Berry couldn’t help it. He laughed. Not loudly, but enough that Mira paused mid-bite to glance at him curiously.

"What’s so funny?"

Lucian asked, scowling slightly.

Berry shook his head, still chuckling.

"You. Both of you, actually. Mira’s eating like she just found heaven, and you’re looking at the same food like it’s poison."

"It tastes bad."

Lucian insisted.

Berry smiled faintly, his eyes soft.

"Maybe to you. But for most people, this... this is a feast. Warm, filling, and safe. Do you know how rare that is in these lands? You’ve really been spoiled, Lucian. Must have lived like some well-pampered young master before all this."

Lucian’s scowl deepened at that, though he didn’t bother denying it. Instead, he muttered under his breath.

"I need to start growing spices. This is unacceptable."

Berry shook his head again, amused, while Mira licked her bowl clean. She didn’t say a word—her throat was still too raw—but her eyes said enough.

Hunger, relief, and the faintest trace of gratitude lingered there as she set the bowl down carefully, almost reverently, as if afraid it might break.

The fire crackled in the furnace, filling the clearing with warmth. Outside, snow continued to fall, covering the land in silence.

Inside their small hut, the three of them sat together—an unlikely trio bound not by trust or choice, but by survival.

Berry glanced at Lucian, then at Mira. His lips curled into a faint smile as he thought to himself:

’Maybe this valley really is the start of something new.’

Lucian didn’t notice. He was already sketching plans in his mind—rows of herbs, patches of spice plants, a more refined system for food preparation.

Mira might have found joy in the meal, but Lucian would not tolerate blandness for long. Survival was necessary, but so was comfort.

And for him, both were things he fully intended to achieve.

______

After dinner, Mira sat quietly by the fire, her bowl resting in her lap. The warmth of the food still lingered in her body, chasing away the chill that had lived in her bones for too long.

She hesitated for a moment, glancing at Lucian, who was busy scribbling something on a piece of bark with a sharpened stick.

Finally, she spoke, her voice hoarse but steady.

"You’re... a tyrant when it comes to work. But... you’re not a bad person. You gave me food. Shelter. You even forced me to move when all I wanted was to give up. So... I’ll follow you."

Her lips curved faintly, not quite a smile.

Berry’s face lit up with delight. "That’s good, Mira! Welcome! The valley’s a better place with more hands—and more company."

Lucian lifted his head, his sharp eyes meeting hers. For a long moment, he said nothing, simply studying the girl who had chosen to place her trust in him.

Then, with a faint shrug, he returned to his writing.

"Do whatever you want. As long as you don’t cause trouble, you can stay."

Lucian said calmly.

Mira nodded, her gaze lingering on him, strangely firm.