It was a morning like any other.
Seren was arranging herbs on the wooden counter when the shop door chimed softly. She didn't bother looking up at first-most likely another suitor pretending to buy something.
But when she lifted her head, she froze.
A young man stood there-not dressed in noble robes, not carrying flowers, not drowning in perfume like the others. His cloak was old, patched in places. His boots were muddy.
His hair was messy, wind-tossed. His eyes were gray-quiet, stormy, tired, and kind.
"Are you here for herbs?" Seren asked carefully."No," he replied.
She blinked. "Then...?"
He placed three small coins on the counter.
"For tea."
"We don't sell tea," Seren said.
"It's for the trouble caused by the loud man outside."
She stiffened. Lord Renver had visited again earlier-loud, arrogant, insistent. She hadn't realized this stranger had heard.
"You didn't need to do that," Seren whispered.
He shrugged. "I know."
There was no flirtation in his voice. No hunger. No admiration of her face.
Just sincerity.What's your name?" she asked.
"Elyon."
"That's... a nice name."
"You have a nicer one."
Heat brushed her cheeks. His tone wasn't seductive-just honest.
He stepped aside, picked up a heavy crate, and carried it to the back of the shop without being asked.
Seren stared, stunned.
No one had ever helped her without expecting something in return.