Ashmaria guided her horse back into the stable, brushing its mane before closing the gate.
"Since you don't know how to ride," she said, smiling at Eden, "we'll walk instead. I'll give you a tour of the farm."
Eden nodded, grateful for her companion's enthusiasm. The air was warm and thick with the scent of grass and soil. In the distance, the hum of insects mixed with the rustle of leaves, wrapping the place in a kind of quiet peace she hadn't felt in years.
"This," Ashmaria said proudly, pointing toward a tall black stallion, "is my brother's horse. He doesn't let anyone else ride him—just Davin. That horse only listens to him."
Eden's eyes lingered on the stallion's powerful frame. It stood restless and magnificent, its dark eyes gleaming under the sunlight. Just like its master, she thought. Controlled strength. Silent pride. Dangerous calm.
After returning the horse, the girls set off toward the mango orchard, passing through rows of sugarcane and pineapple fields. The scent of sweet fruit hung in the air.
"That plantation over there belongs to a wealthy family," Ashmaria explained as they walked. "Their patriarch often visits our father. He has a daughter—beautiful but spoiled—and he wants to marry her off to my brother."
Eden laughed softly. "And what does your brother think of that?"
Ashmaria shrugged dramatically. "You know Davin. He'd rather fight a war than attend a dinner party."
They both laughed. The sound of it was easy and unrestrained, echoing through the open fields. Eden realized how good it felt to laugh again.
As they walked, Ashmaria continued chatting. "We've only been here for a year. When my parents bought this place, the farm was drowning in debt. The mangoes didn't sell well, and most of the animals were sick. But look at it now." She spread her arms proudly. "My father revived everything."
"You must be proud," Eden said sincerely.
Ashmaria smiled but then sighed. "This place has also become my hideout, you know. Ever since I was fired."
Eden frowned. "I told you—it wasn't your fault."
Ashmaria waved her hand dismissively. "Even before, Aunt Daniella never liked me working at the Kingdom. Uncle Meynard was the one who insisted. She just waited for me to slip up—and when I finally did, she didn't hesitate to remove me. But I'm not too sad about it." Her tone brightened. "I was never meant for office work anyway. I want to design clothes. Someday, I'll have my own fashion line."
Eden smiled as she listened. There was something refreshing about Ashmaria's optimism. She wasn't pretending to be strong—she simply was. For the first time in a long while, Eden felt like she had a real friend.
Then everything happened in a blur.
A loud honk shattered the calm. Eden barely had time to react before Ashmaria, who had been walking backward while talking, stumbled off the roadside.
"Ashmaria!" Eden screamed, her heart lurching.
Ashmaria spun around, startled, just as a van screeched to a stop a few feet away. Losing her balance, she tripped over a rock and fell into the dirt.
"Are you all right?" Eden rushed to her side and helped her up.
Before Ashmaria could answer, the van doors swung open. Two men stepped out—one from the driver's seat, the other from the passenger side.
"Are you a kid or something?" the driver snapped. "Who walks backward in the middle of the road?"
Ashmaria's eyes flashed. "I admit it was my fault, all right? But maybe ask if I'm fine before you start yelling!"
The man scoffed. "You're standing just fine. No scratches. Maybe next time, walk properly—unless you own this road."
His friend snorted. "Forget it, bro. Country people—so ignorant."
Ashmaria's face went crimson. "Excuse me? Who are you calling ignorant?" She took a step forward, fury crackling in her voice, but Eden grabbed her arm.
"Who else?" the man sneered. "Only a fool walks backward on the street."
"That's enough—"
But Ashmaria had already moved. The sharp crack of a slap echoed through the air. The man's head snapped to the side, stunned by the force of it. Even his companion froze in disbelief.
"You little—" the man growled, raising his hand.
He never got the chance to swing. A firm grip stopped him mid-motion. Eden looked up—and her breath caught.
Davin.
Beside him stood Phillip, both men expressionless but radiating quiet menace.
"You don't use your hands to strike someone who can't fight back," Phillip said calmly, releasing the man's wrist.
"And who the hell are you?" the man spat. "Do you even know what this woman did?"
Davin didn't answer right away. His gaze drifted to the van, then back to the man. When he finally spoke, his tone was sharp, cutting, controlled.
"Your car's fine," he said dryly. "She's small—barely enough to dent your pride, let alone your vehicle."
The man frowned, suddenly uncertain. "So you're with them?"
His companion smirked. "Ah, I get it now. You're one of those scammers—pretend to get hit, ask for money later. Typical. Desperate people will do anything these days."
Davin's lips twitched—not quite a smile. "Don't flatter yourself. Do they look like they'd need your money?"
His eyes flicked toward Ashmaria, taking in her crisp white shirt, black jeans, and boots. "And that outfit," he added coolly, "you think she stole it?"
Ashmaria crossed her arms and raised a brow. "Ignorant one minute, thief the next. What's next on your list?"
"Enough," Davin said, stepping closer to her and then facing the man. His stare was cold and steady, the kind that stripped arrogance down to fear. "You're not from around here, are you?"
"What's it to you?" the man shot back, though his voice faltered.
"In this place," Davin said softly, "arrogant outsiders don't last long. Consider that friendly advice." He brushed the man's shoulder as if dusting him off.
The man stiffened. "What—are you the owner of this land?"
"No," Davin replied, his tone mild but lethal. "Now get going. It's not a good look—grown men arguing with women. Don't you agree?"
Ashmaria gaped. "Immature? Me?" She turned to Eden, half laughing, half indignant. "See? Even my brother sides with them sometimes."
The man opened his mouth again. "You'd better watch that girl. She might not last long here. People know who I am—"
"Just go."
Davin's voice was quiet, but it carried weight. The man froze, met his gaze, and paled. Something in those steel-grey eyes told him it wasn't worth it.
"Let's go," he muttered to his friend. They climbed back into the van.
The vehicle roared past, kicking up a storm of dust. Eden and Ashmaria turned away, coughing as the cloud engulfed them.
"That freak!" Ashmaria sputtered, brushing dirt off her shirt. "He practically bathed us in dust!"
"Would you stop causing chaos?" Davin said, his tone sharp but weary. "If we hadn't followed you, who knows where that argument would've gone."
Ashmaria pouted and looked away, knowing better than to argue. Eden glanced at them both—brother and sister, fire and ice—and felt a strange warmth stir in her chest.
For the first time since arriving, she realized something.
This place wasn't just a refuge.
It was starting to feel like life.