Chapter 4 BENEATH THE STARLIGHTS

The morning sunlight filtered through the small window of Madam Hannah's cottage, casting a warm glow over the stranger's face. Rosella sat beside him, her eyes scanning his features.

As she watched, his eyelids flickered open. Confusion clouded his gaze, and he winced, pain etched on his face.

"Welcome back," Rosella said softly.

The stranger's eyes locked onto hers, and he struggled to sit up. Rosella helped him, supporting his back.

"Your injuries are healing well," Rosella said. "But you need rest."

The stranger nodded, his gaze drifting to the window. "I remember... arriving here. Your village."

Rosella smiled. "Yes. Elsa and I found you by the stream."

His eyes narrowed, as if recalling something.

As the stranger settled back into his pillow, Rosella poured him a cup of steaming tea from the kettle on the hearth.

"Be careful, it's hot," she warned.

The stranger smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Thank you."

Madam Hannah bustled in, carrying a basket of fresh bread. "Ah, you're awake! How's our guest feeling, Rosella?"

Rosella smiled. "Much better, thanks to your care."

Madam Hannah winked. "And the whole village is abuzz with curiosity. Elsa's been sharing tales of your... adventurous arrival."

The stranger's eyebrows rose. "Adventure?"

Rosella leaned in, a mischievous glint in her eye. "Elsa's been telling everyone you rode into the village like a dark knight, mysterious and brooding."

The stranger chuckled. "I think she's embellished the truth."

Madam Hannah snorted. "Elsa's got a flair for drama, that one. But there's truth to it – folks are whispering about your past."

The stranger's expression turned serious.

Madam Hannah leaned in, a conspiratorial whisper escaping her lips. "They're saying you're a nobleman, fled from the king's court. Others claim you're a fugitive, hiding from the law."

Rosella rolled her eyes. "Village gossip never sleeps."

The stranger's expression remained neutral, but his eyes sparkled with amusement.

"Elder Thornton's called a meeting tonight to discuss your presence," Madam Hannah continued. "Some folks are wary, but others think you're a blessing in disguise."

Rosella's brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"

Madam Hannah's eyes twinkled. "Well, with the Harvest Festival approaching, your arrival's stirred up excitement. Some think you'll bring good fortune."

The stranger's gaze drifted to the window, where the sounds of village life filtered in.

Just then, a knock at the door interrupted the conversation. Madam Hannah smiled. "That'll be Elder Thornton. I'll get it."

She opened the door to reveal the village head, his weathered face creased with concern.

"Elder Thornton," Rosella said, rising from her chair.

"Rosella, Madam Hannah," he nodded. "I've come to inquire about our guest."

The stranger's eyes locked onto the elder, his expression guarded.

"Please, come in," Madam Hannah invited.

Elder Thornton's gaze swept the room, taking in the stranger's condition. "I see he's awake. How's his health?"

Rosella reported, "His injuries are healing well, thanks to Madam Hannah's care."

The elder nodded, his eyes narrowing. "Who are you young man."

Elder Thornton's eyes locked onto Christian, who smiled wryly.

"I'm Ian, a traveler," he said. "A merchant's son from the east."

Rosella's eyes narrowed slightly, sensing a hint of deception.

Elder Thornton's gaze remained piercing. "What happened to you, Ian?"

Ian's expression turned guarded. "I'm a wanderer, I was attacked on my way travelling."

Madam Hannah's expression revealed nothing, but Rosella detected a flicker of doubt.

Elder Thornton nodded thoughtfully. "We'll discuss this further later. For now, rest and recover."

Rosella helped Ian settle back into bed.

"Thank you for your hospitality," Ian said, his eyes evading hers.

Elder Thornton nodded, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Welcome, Ian. We don't often get strangers in Orendell."

Ian smiled. "Thank you, Elder Thornton. Your village is lovely."

Rosella poured Elder Thornton a cup of tea from the kettle on the hearth. "Would you like some tea, Elder?"

"Thank you, Rosella," he said, accepting the cup.

Madam Hannah joined the conversation, her hands deftly folding a blanket. "Ian, how do you find our village."

Ian's gaze drifted to the window. "It's... peaceful here. I've traveled extensively, but Orendell has a unique charm."

Elder Thornton leaned forward, his voice thoughtful. "We value community and hard work. What skills do you have, Ian?"

Ian hesitated before responding, "I've experience with trade and commerce."

Rosella's curiosity piqued. "Perhaps you can share your knowledge with our merchants?"

Ian nodded. "I'd be happy to help."

Rosella's curiosity got the better of her. "Ian, may I ask about your family?"

Ian's expression turned guarded, his eyes clouding.

"Are your parents still alive?" Rosella asked softly.

Ian's pause was almost imperceptible. "My parents... passed away. I have no immediate family."

Madam Hannah's expression softened. "I'm sorry, Ian. Losing loved ones is never easy."

Ian's smile seemed forced. "Thank you. I've learned to rely on myself."

Elder Thornton nodded thoughtfully before he left. "We'll ensure you feel welcome here, Ian."

Madam Hannah smiled warmly. "Rest now, Ian. Your body needs time to heal."

Ian nodded, his eyes already drooping.

Rosella settled into the chair beside him. "Is there anything I can get for you?"

Ian's voice was barely above a whisper. "Water, please."

Rosella poured a cup from the nearby pitcher and helped Ian drink.

As he settled back, Madam Hannah handed Rosella a small basket. "Fresh fruit and bread for later. I'll check on him tonight."

With Madam Hannah gone, Rosella sat quietly, watching Ian sleep.

As Rosella sat beside Ian, lost in thought, the door creaked open.

"Rosella," a young messenger said, "a letter from Master Asher, the Baron's son."

Rosella accepted the letter, breaking the seal.

"Dearest Rosella,

I hope this finds you well. I've missed our conversations. Would you join me for dinner at the manor tomorrow evening?

Yours,

Asher"

Rosella smiled, tucking the letter into her apron.

Ian stirred, his eyes fluttering open.

"Rosella?" he whispered.

"I'm here," she replied, helping him drink from the nearby cup.

As Ian settled back, Rosella pondered Asher's invitation.

Rosella smiled, deciding. "I'll accept Asher's invitation."

She penned a quick response and handed it to the messenger.

As the messenger departed, Ian's voice broke the silence.

"Who is Asher?"

Rosella's eyes sparkled. "The Baron's son."

Ian's gaze held hers, his expression unreadable.

As the sun began to set, Rosella prepared for her dinner at the manor. She chose a simple yet elegant gown, her dark hair cascading down her back.

Madam Hannah helped her with the final touches. "You look lovely, dear."

Rosella smiled, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness.

As she descended the stairs, Ian's eyes followed her, his expression soft.

"Have a wonderful evening," he said, his voice low.

Rosella's cheeks flushed. "Thank you, Ian. Rest well."

With a final glance, she departed for the manor.

As Rosella stepped outside, a luxurious carriage awaited her, adorned with the Baron's crest.

The coachman tipped his hat. "Rosella, Master Asher sent me to escort you to the manor."

Rosella smiled, grateful for the thoughtful gesture. She settled into the plush interior, feeling a sense of elegance.

As the carriage rolled through the village, the setting sun cast a warm glow. Rosella's thoughts drifted to Ian, wondering if he was comfortable.

The manor's grandeur came into view, its windows shining like stars. Asher waited at the entrance, dashing in his finery.

"Rosella, you look stunning," he said, offering his arm.

Rosella's cheeks flushed as she took his arm, feeling a sense of familiarity.

Asher led Rosella through the manor's gardens, the evening air filled with the sweet scent of blooming flowers. They strolled along the winding path, the sound of a gentle fountain accompanying their steps.

A beautifully set table awaited them beneath a picturesque arbor, lit by soft lanterns.

As they sat, Asher poured wine into her glass. "I've missed our conversations, Rosella. How have you been?"

Rosella smiled, feeling at ease amidst the serene surroundings. "Well, thank you. And you?"

Asher's eyes sparkled. "Busy with estate matters. But I've been thinking of you."

Their conversation flowed easily, like a gentle stream.

As they dined, Rosella felt Asher's gaze lingering on her. She couldn't help but wonder if his interest went beyond friendship.

Asher's gaze softened, focusing on Rosella. "You're one of the few people who truly understands me. I value our conversations."

Rosella's cheeks warmed. "I feel the same, Asher. You're easy to talk to."

Asher leaned in, his voice lowering. "I've missed you, Rosella. We've been busy, but I've thought about you often."

Rosella's heart skipped a beat. "I've thought about you too," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

The air between them grew charged, the silence palpable.

Rosella's uncertainty flickered to the surface. "Asher, I...I don't know if I'm ready for this."

Asher's hand gently squeezed hers. "Ready for what, Rosella? For us?"

Rosella nodded, her eyes searching his. "What if this changes everything between us?"

Asher's expression softened. "Maybe it should. Maybe it's time we acknowledge what's been growing between us."

Rosella's heart skipped a beat. She'd never seen Asher so vulnerable.

Rosella gently pulled her hand away, her eyes still locked on Asher's. "I need time, Asher. To think, to understand my feelings."

Asher's expression turned understanding, though a hint of disappointment flickered in his eyes. "Of course, Rosella. I'll wait."

The silence between them grew, filled with unspoken emotions.

Asher stood, offering his arm. "Let me walk you back to the carriage."

As they strolled through the garden, the night air felt thicker, heavy with unspoken words.

Rosella stepped into her cozy cottage, the fire crackling softly. She lit a candle, the warm glow illuminating her thoughts.

As she prepared for bed, her mind whirled with the evening's events. Asher's words, his gaze, and the gentle touch of his hand lingered.

In bed, Rosella snuggled beneath the blankets, her thoughts still racing. She replayed their conversation, analyzing every word.

Asher's vulnerability and sincerity tugged at her heart. Yet, uncertainty lingered.

As the candle burned low, Rosella's eyelids grew heavy. Her thoughts began to unravel, and she drifted into a restless sleep.

In the darkness, her subconscious whispered questions:

What if she chose Asher?

What if she lost their friendship?

The shadows of her mind swirled with possibilities.