Seeker dressed quietly in the early morning, careful not to wake Beautiful. She’d spread a blanket on the bedroom floor, flatly refusing the couch he had bought. This was where they would sleep now.
“We’ll be buying all the furniture together from now on,” she said firmly. Of course—that had been the plan all along. He just needed somewhere to sleep. Anywhere but the floor.
He knelt and kissed her forehead softly, then slipped out without a word. At lunch, he’d come back to see her before returning to the mill.
He groaned when he reached the mill—carts loaded with rye, barley, and wheat had piled up while he was gone. He hoisted a sack onto his shoulder and trudged up the stairs to the grain room, setting it down with a thud before heading back out to the carts.
He scanned the carts—at least dozens of trips. Leaving the sacks out wasn’t an option; the summer heat would spoil the grain. If he pushed hard, he might be done by noon. But there’d be no lunch break waiting—just as many sacks of flour to haul back out of storage.
By early afternoon the drivers would be back with their oxen, and the flour had to be ready. Seeker heaved another sack onto his shoulder with a grunt and started the climb again.
Beautiful. His heart sank. What would he do with her? She had to be disappointed in him—why else would she have cried?
He set the second sack down beside the first and went back for another. Disappointment gnawed at him. He’d wanted that lot above the ravine so badly. If only he’d worked harder. And still—it stung. He’d imagined her throwing her arms around him, telling him how much she loved their new home.
One by one, he stacked the sacks into a neat pile. With each trip, words formed in his mind—he’d say this… no, better to say that. Back and forth, over and over. At last, he dropped the final sack in place, sank to the floor, and took a long drink from his canteen.
All that remained was the flour. Then he could go home—to Beautiful.
***
Beautiful stretched and yawned, reaching across the blanket. Seeker was already gone. A small ache tugged at her chest. His face from last night rose in her memory—disappointment, plain as daylight. Was he already tired of her? He could have at least nudged her before leaving.
She straightened the blanket they’d slept on. First priority: a bed. The floor didn’t bother her, but Seeker had protested—that was what the couch was for. She still couldn’t believe his taste. It might have been the ugliest thing she’d ever seen. And uncomfortable besides.
In the main room, Seeker’s books lay piled against one wall. He needed a bookcase. But first—a table, so they could eat together.
Seeker had promised to come home for lunch. That was still hours away. She might as well explore the village—maybe even bring back something delicious for him.
–
Beautiful wandered the village streets. It wasn’t the neat houses, or the tidy flower gardens that caught her eye—it was the silence. No laughter. No voices. Not even the stray cats that roamed Bright-Harbor’s alleys. Just stillness. Empty, aching, lonely silence.
Near the center of the village, Beautiful finally spotted life—two young women about her age. The first moved like a fox, sly and too sure of herself. Not in a way Beautiful liked. She swayed as she came closer, tossing her long, wavy black hair with practiced ease.
“You must be the Beautiful we’ve heard so much about.” Those green eyes swept her from head to toe. “You’re not what I was expecting.” A flush crept into Beautiful’s cheeks.
The second woman hurried up. “Charm! Shame on you.” Her face was soft, her blue eyes gentle. She turned to Beautiful. “Please forgive my cousin. Welcome to Delight. I’m Comfort.”
“Sister,” Charm cut in, her voice smooth but sharp at the edges.
“Distant cousin,” Comfort shot back, her tone tightening.
“Sister,” Charm pressed, then added in a low voice, almost sweet, “Adopted.”
Comfort shot Charm a glare, then slipped her hand into Beautiful’s.
“Come,” she said warmly. “Let me show you around.”
–
Beautiful spread out her linen cloth across the ugly couch and set out a loaf of bread, some olives, cheese, and a single tomato. They really did need a table. Comfort had already told her where to find one.
She waited. Noon came. Still no Seeker. She paced the room, back and forth, the bread and cheese untouched. When the door stayed shut, tears stung her eyes. How dare he? He’d promised.
She sat on the floor, leaning against the ugly couch. Seeker’s satchel lay by the pile of books, drawing her eye. She tore off a piece of bread, chewed slowly, and let her gaze drift back to the satchel.
***
Seeker exhaled a long breath as he stepped out of the mill. The day had dragged, heavy and endless, leaving him sore and spent—but he was going home to Beautiful. That was all that mattered.
He thought about stopping to pick up something delicious for Beautiful but brushed the idea aside. He couldn’t bear to waste even a minute—he just wanted to get home to her.
“Beautiful,” he called as he pushed the door open. Then he froze. She stood in the middle of the room, fists on her hips, lightning flashing in her eyes. His satchel lay spilled across the floor at her feet.
“What is this?” she demanded, brandishing his pipe in her fist.
Heat rushed to Seeker’s face. He opened his mouth, but no words came.
“When were you going to tell me?” she demanded, fury burning in her voice. “Or were you even going to tell me at all?”
“It just helped pass the time, Beautiful. Three years is a long time.”
Beautiful’s face went pale. Her voice dropped, trembling. “Did she help you pass the time, Seeker?”
She? What was Beautiful talking about? Jealous of—Comfort?
“It’s not like that, Beautiful. Comfort… she’s like a little sister.”
“Comfort?” Beautiful scoffed. “Comfort? You think I’m stupid? Stop lying to me.” Her voice curled into a mocking sing-song. “Oh, Beautiful, I’ve heard so much about you.” She let out another bitter scoff, eyes blazing. “Are you the stupid one, or do you think I am?”
“I wish I never left Bright-Harbor.” She spun on her heel, stomped into the bedroom, and collapsed into sobs.
Seeker sank onto the ugly couch and buried his face in his hands. What had just happened?
