Dawn broke on the day of the equinox, muffled noise even at the early hour. I stirred, confused, not expecting people to get up for that. Back in my world, people didn’t even care about the solstices. Well, there were some people who went to the Stonehenge, but that was it.

What didn’t surprise me was that Hyraj was already awake. Whether woken by the noise or normally up this early, I didn’t know. While we were camping, it had been natural to sleep when the sun set and wake up when it rose, not so much these days. Maybe because I didn’t exhaust myself as much, maybe because the nights were a bit longer.

Anyway, I sat up, covering my mouth as a yawn slipped out. She looked over at me, breaking away from her book. It was quite the pretty sight. A sliver of light leaked through the curtains she had ever so slightly parted to read her book, but now that light fell on the side of her face. Glowing.

“Good morning,” she said, soft voice breaking through the muffled noise from outside.

Remembering the other day, I noticed how it was similar to herrin—to what I translated as goodnight. Kind of funny. Another yawn overcame me, so I answered after that. “Good morning.”

A moment passed in silence, then she went back to her book.

But I had things to ask. “Is there… something to go see now?”

She glanced back at me and, more awake now, I noticed her face wasn’t as relaxed as I was used to these days. “That is it, you are free to enjoy yourself today, but I am uninterested.”

Spoken so carefully, like every word was delicate. Fragile. I was already sensitive to people’s moods, had spent so long around her, of course I knew something was wrong. “Is it… you’re unwell? Can I get something?” I asked, already getting to my feet.

“No,” she said, then whispered, “No. This is, well, there is no need to speak around it. As this holiday happens in the middle of the stormy season, the celebrations differ from town to town. In particular, among my family, we….”

She trailed off there and I honestly didn’t know if she would carry on. But I waited, and waited, and waited, until her free hand clenched, balling up the blanket over her lap and squeezing it with all her strength.

“It is not like I left home because I lost the love I hold for my parents. So today, it is a lonely day for me,” she said.

I still found myself surprised whenever she opened up to me. At the orphanage, only the little ones did. Older girls knew better than to trust anyone. Telling someone else something like this, well, that was just asking to be “teased”, wasn’t it? Any time you annoyed them, they’d just say something like, “Still miss your parents?” Kind of why the little ones usually avoided the older girls.

Anyway, this wasn’t about them—or me. “That it is?” I said.

Her lips curled into an ironic smile. “There seems to be much to do,” she said, her voice warmer. “Another colleague mentioned that, two years ago, Mr Arl participated in an event where the participants grappled in the mud. Go on, enjoy yourself.”

Now I knew just how much she needed me to stay, speaking such nonsense. Why would I want to watch men wrestle in the mud? Well, there was probably more going on today than just that, and I was interested after hearing the cook so excited about the equinox yesterday, but this was one of the few things I could do for Hyraj.

Be here for her.

“If everyone is out, it’ll be good for laundry,” I said, trying to act casual about it.

Whatever her reaction, I wasn’t watching. Gave her that bit of privacy. Gathered my clothes for the day and, before she said anything, went off to wash and change.

When I returned to the room, she had also changed. Didn’t look like she’d moved, though, still on the bed, reading by the morning’s sunlight. Sort of threw me for a loop, unsure where to sit. At least until I remembered I was going to do laundry. But then, breakfast first, so I shuffled down to the kitchen.

The cook chatted happily about all the amazing things that would be going on through the day. I smiled, “nodding” along with the finger-tapping gesture.

Maybe because of her job, she mostly listed off the foods, from freshly-squeezed tea to a fried pastry sort of things; vegetables dipped in “butter”, then rolled in seasoning, and roasted over a fire; soups in stale bread bowls—or so it sounded like? I thought to ask Hyraj about it, only to remember I shouldn’t.

Thinking about that…. “Will cook be making lunch today?” I asked.

She laughed and leant over to pat my back. “Who’s here to eat?” she asked.

I hesitated, then said, “Miss Hyraj is feeling a little unwell, so….”

“That it is,” the cook said with a more sombre expression than I’d ever seen her show.

It was also a bit funny hearing her say that phrase, something I was used to hearing from Hyraj and a few times from Mr Arl, a lot more casual this time. Sort of a slow “Tha’t’s”.

“How, I’ll leave a couple things soaking. You can manage something, can’t ya?” she said.

Broken out of my thoughts, I quickly nodded with my hand. “Really?”

She chuckled, covering her mouth with the crook of her elbow. “I wasn’t much sure ’bout ya at the start, but you’ve got the knack,” she said—at least, how I understood it. Rather than knack, it was the word for habit, but people used it for something you were good at because you did it everyday. Like a knack for brushing hair.

Anyway, it was a compliment. Kind of? No, it was. “Thank you,” I said softly, ducking my head, embarrassed at the happy smile I couldn’t stop.

“Thank me? I’m the one skipping out my job,” she said lightly, but I noticed it wasn’t like her usual “light” tone, maybe a bit embarrassed too? Probably me just hearing what I wanted to.

We finished cooking breakfast in mostly silence, not a grand meal at all. The other people in the dorm were young, single men, and they would no doubt be stuffing themselves throughout the day. So it was just a porridge with a mild seasoning, accompanied by bitter tea—made by soaking dried berries in hot water and then straining. After trying them fresh, I wasn’t sure I could go back to the dried kind.

That was the little thought I used to distract myself while Hyraj and I ate breakfast. Despite her mood, she ate as she always did, a steady pace that saw her finish before me. I hurried for the last bit, then took our bowls through to wash. Getting a little laugh out of me, the sink was full, cook nowhere to be seen. She really had been looking forward to today.

Though I didn’t want to leave Hyraj alone for long, I washed everything up. Especially with how the cook had treated me the last day, it felt more… realistic for me to work here once Mr Arl left. Maybe not in this kitchen, but she probably knew someone who might need a cook. Or a nanny. Or, honestly, I would even be a cleaner. Anything… to not be a burden to Hyraj.

The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

My heart felt tight when thinking about Hyraj these days. Our relationship so messy. How we’d met, how we’d bonded, how we’d lived. How she felt about me. There was nothing normal between us, which made it all the harder to understand.

I was scared. I knew that much. Scared of relying on someone who could leave me at any time.

Scared of hurting someone I knew cared for me.

At the orphanage, I hadn’t seen the best of families. I’d seen kids who, no matter how much they were hurt, still begged to go back to their parents. I knew how ugly love could be. Now that I’d stopped focusing on trying to understand Hyraj’s love for me, I came to realise that the reason why I wanted to know so badly in the first place, why I wanted her to stop loving me, was because I didn’t want her to be like those kids.

After all, I was sure some love stories were like that. People who loved someone so much that, even if it hurt, they wanted to be close to their beloved. I couldn’t understand feeling like that. But I knew I didn’t want to hurt her by being oblivious to her love.

Those were the thoughts that circled around my head as I numbingly focused on the chores I’d neglected over the weekend.

As they day went on, I slipped off to make lunch. A welcome distraction. Like the cook had said, there were some things left to soak, my mind coming up with a simple vegetable stew and mash to make with them. More of a soup? There was no meat, never was here, but the veggies were falling apart as I boiled them with a bit of seasoning.

Anyway, it smelled nice and, having a taste before I served up, thought I’d done a good job. Not as fancy as the cook’s meals, but good. Better than the stuff I was making in the forest.

Bringing it through to Hyraj, she gave a quiet, “Thank you,” before eating up. Watching her and her elegance for a moment, I was reminded how she’d looked the same even when eating the stuff I had just dug up and boiled.

Reminded how she was almost like royalty.

Really, it was… crazy. Her falling for me. She still loved her parents, so wouldn’t she eventually go home? What would happen to me? Even if I loved her back, even if they decided she didn’t have to marry a man, how could I be good enough? Or would she really never go home, living her life like a “commoner”?

But that was pointless to think about. Like, I couldn’t pretend to love her. Even if I wanted to stay with her, that… was definitely a line I couldn’t cross.

What point was there in being just friends with me, though? Love was special, but friends weren’t, right? I could offer her a bit of cooking in the forest, but, now, she could afford to eat at taverns, could easily find places to stay, meals included. She seemed happy to spend her free time reading, the only times she talked to me when I started it, asking her for help.

Always wanting her help.

It ate at me, feeling so useless. All I really did for her was wash her clothes. The clothes she let me borrow. The clothes she bought for me. It was kind of funny; rather than a lover, I felt more like a pet….

My bad habit came back and I spiralled in the silence, listening to the muffled crowd, soon drowned out by my pounding heart. It hurt. I felt five-years-old again, being asked where my mummy was. Alone. Unwanted. No place to call home. No place in this world. Finding a crack where I could hide, safe, filling in the hole someone else left behind. Something useful. If someone else was doing it, then it must have been necessary. It must have been important. And maybe, if I did it, I’d be necessary and important too. Someone who couldn’t be thrown away.

Laughter leaked from the hallway, one of the other residents stopping by their room. But it sounded mocking to me. This irrational feeling like they were laughing at me. I knew they weren’t, but that didn’t stop the voice at the back of my head from whispering, “What if they are?”

I’d long lost sight of why I’d stayed in today. Hyraj sat at the table, reading, like it didn’t even matter that I was here. She loved me, but didn’t even glance at me. Didn’t blush. I knew it was my own mood making me like this, but that didn’t numb the ache. She loved me and yet acted like I meant nothing to her. I knew that was her showing me respect, but part of me felt justified in whispering that she didn’t really love me. No wonder I hadn’t noticed her feelings. My twisted mind couldn’t come up with a reason why she would fake it, but it was sure she did. Easier to believe she was lying than she fell in love with me.

Despite knowing I needed to stop, I couldn’t move. Sat on her bed, knees to my chest, heart pounding, aching. This time, I ended up wondering why I had been given a second chance.

Why hadn’t I just died?

Finally, silence settled in my mind. Like everything had fallen into place. All the questions I hadn’t been able to answer now solved with a single solution.

If I had just died, then at least I could have died happy. Died for a good reason. But now, now, I had to keep living, and living was so painful for me. Hollow. Broken.

“Louise?”

Like a switch, hearing her say my name emptied my mind. “Yes?” I said, almost wincing at how terrible my voice sounded. Clearing my throat, I tried again. “Ah, yes?”

“I have been considering what to do,” she said, speaking in her usual slow, steady voice. “Once the storms lighten, I would say we should continue travelling. Mr Arl shall be retiring at the end of the month, so it is not like he would need your help any longer, and that is when I receive my pay. Staying longer would only make things more complicated.”

My nails pressed into my shins, a kind of frustration setting in as, no matter how hard I pressed, it didn’t hurt, trousers taking out the sting. “That it is… I was thinking… we could stay. The cook, she seems to… warm up to me, so maybe… I could work here, or she could recommend me somewhere.”

Silence. I didn’t know when I’d looked away from her, only realising now I stared down at my knees. Every blink felt like seconds passed, unsteady, my mind in such knots that reality became distorted.

“Have you discussed this with her?” Hyraj softly asked.

My silence was all the answer she needed.

“I do not mean to make the job I do sound trivial; however, it is not a job suitable for me. No job in this small drej is suitable. There is no reason for me to stay here,” she said.

The pain I’d inflicted on myself all day boiled in my veins, an unnatural anger overwhelming me. But I didn’t scream or shout. No, I just whispered, “Then go without me.”

Even before I’d finished saying it, I regretted it, but couldn’t find the breath to apologise. Maybe because I didn’t want to. Because I wanted her to leave and end the suffering she was putting me through, even though I knew I was the one torturing myself.

Nothing made sense any more. Everything was wrong.

Silence, painful silence. I wanted her to scream at me. I wanted to know she loved me. I wanted to be left alone. After a lifetime of feeling so little, feeling so much felt like it would kill me. I hated it.

But I hated myself more.

“Louise.” A broken whisper. “This part of you…. How you stayed up on that mountain alone, I can understand the desire to live by their own strength. However, first Mrs Frinchen, now the cook? If you are to rely on someone else, why can it not be me?”

Her words hammered at my head, the growing headache painful to the point I could barely see, darkness clouding the edge of my vision. Why couldn’t it be her? Because I couldn’t take her place. She was too incredible, too beautiful, everything about her so much better than me that I couldn’t even delude myself into thinking I could become like her, no matter how long I tried.

But I couldn’t say all that. “It just can’t,” I whispered.

Silence for a moment, then her footsteps—away from me. I looked up to see her at the door, in the doorway. It was stupid, but I felt like, if she left, she wouldn’t come back. Never mind that this was her room, that she still had her job, that, if anyone was to leave, it should have been me. Of all the irrational thoughts today, this one was the most convincing.

And I hated myself that I couldn’t bring myself to say anything as she stepped out the door. More intense than anything else, I hated myself.

The door closed little by little, my heart clenched tight, nothing leaving my lips. It was about to click shut and still, I said nothing. Nothing.

But then the door swung back open and she stepped inside, slamming it shut beside her. Striding over to me, she said, “Love me or hate me, I cannot bare being nothing to you.”

Before I could even process what she’d said, she was in front of me, leaning down, and her hand guided up my chin, her nose brushed against mine. And she kissed me.

“As many as it takes,” she murmured, “until either you kiss me back or push me away.”

She carried on the kiss. A light kiss, more just rubbing her lips against mine, but, as if talented at even this, she soon found a better position, her lips now, like, hugging mine, almost ticklish with her little movements.

But that was all it was.

It made no sense to me. I was supposed to hate it, was supposed to push her away. But I didn’t hate it. But I didn’t love it either. There was no magic spark like in stories, no heat, no warmth but for her ticklish breath.

As if she could tell, she soon broke away from the kiss, her cheek sliding against mine as she drew me into a hug.

“I am sorry,” she whispered. “So very sorry.”

Her voice… I hadn’t ever heard her sound so broken. It hurt. I hurt. Although I wanted to tell her it was okay, wanted to tell her I forgave her, I was scared. I needed her.

“What’s wrong with me?” I whispered.

She rubbed my back and squeezed me tight, warmth bleeding through from her body to mine. “I am here,” she said, maybe the only thing she could think to say. How could she know what messed up thoughts I’d come up with all day?

I almost laughed, but there was no strength in me. I could have cried, but the tears wouldn’t come. I was empty. I was full of pain.

“Be at peace, I am here,” she whispered.

In her arms, firm, but not tight, I felt safe.