Page 15 of Cursed Dreams
Her gaze drifted past the bustling crowd and landed on Vaelith.
He was astride a sleek, midnight-coloured horse, sitting with an effortless grace that seemed almost unnatural. The sun gleamed off the silver detailing on his dark riding attire, highlighting the contrast between his pale complexion and the sharp, angular cut of his features. But it was his hair that stood out the most, pure white, like freshly fallen snow, shimmering under the morning light.
It should have made him look aged, yet there was nothing old about him. If anything, it only added to his otherworldly presence.
She thought back to their dance the night before, the way the golden festival lights had reflected in his eyes. Did he dance with Lina too, after I left? The thought was fleeting, but it unsettled her more than she liked.
Why, she wondered, did she feel this strange pull toward him? It was ridiculous. He barely acknowledged her now, his focus entirely elsewhere. She shook her head at herself as she climbed into the carriage, telling herself she was being foolish.
Inside, three other passengers from neighbouring villages were already seated. They looked to her and Lina as they entered, nodding politely in greeting.
Just as the driver called for final boarding, a movement caught her eye—and she immediately wished she hadn’t looked.
Marcus.
He was weaving through the crowd, clearly searching for her. She inwardly cringed, cursing her bad luck. If he found her now, he’d insist on some overly dramatic farewell, maybe even try to push his ridiculous proposition on her again.
As though sensing her distress, Vaelith suddenly spoke, his voice carrying effortlessly over the crowd. “Move out.”
The order was firm, allowing no room for delay.
The driver obeyed at once, and with a lurch, the carriage began to roll forward.
Thalia exhaled, slumping slightly against her seat as Marcus was left behind in the dust. She allowed herself a small, silent thank you to Vaelith.
Whether or not he’d done it deliberately, she was grateful, nonetheless.
The carriage rolled away from the village, a strange feeling settled over Thalia, not excitement, not sadness, but an anxious sort of awareness. Two whole days in close quarters with strangers. She wasn’t terrible at conversation, but she certainly wasn’t the type to carry it either.
Lina let out a wistful sigh beside her, leaning slightly toward the window as she watched the village shrink into the distance. “Did you see Marcus just before we left?” she murmured dreamily. “Such a shame. He just missed us.”
Thalia barely managed to keep from groaning. Instead, she plastered on a neutral expression and hummed noncommittally.
Lina turned to her, eyes sparkling. “He’s so handsome, isn’t he? You are so lucky he is smitten by you ”
If only he’d focus his attention elsewhere. “Mm.”
Luckily, the other passengers had caught wind of their conversation, drawing their attention away from Marcus before Lina could press further.
Across from her sat a striking young woman with warm, deep bronze skin and long, gleaming black hair woven into an elegant plait over one shoulder. Her high cheekbones and dark, thoughtful eyes gave her a regal air, but her soft smile was friendly.
“I take it Marcus is a… suitor of yours?” she asked, amusement laced in her voice.
Thalia nearly choked. “No.” She waved a frantic hand as if physically dispelling the notion. “Not at all. My mother, well, she likes him. Too much if you ask me.”
Beside the dark haired woman sat another girl, her light brown hair almost blonde in the morning sun, pulled into a practical bun. Her features were pleasant, if a little severe, and her tonewas brisk but not unkind. “Mothers do that,” she remarked, smoothing a crease in her travel skirt. “Mine would shove me at every decent nobleman in my region if she had the chance.”
The last of the passengers, a young man with tousled copper hair and a dusting of freckles across his nose, let out a low whistle. “Sounds exhausting.” His hazel eyes twinkled mischievously. “Makes me grateful I have no noble blood to worry about. Just me, my fishing village, and the sea.”
Thalia found herself smiling despite her nerves. “Fishing village?”
He grinned. “Sure. Born and raised in a little port town by the coast. Name’s Callan, by the way.”
The dark haired woman nodded. “I’m Nyla.”
The fair haired girl glanced at them before adding, “Riona.”
Lina introduced herself, and soon, Thalia followed, her initial tension easing just slightly. They fell into easy conversation, each of them sharing bits and pieces of their homes.
