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The second visit

The morning rose with a heavy atmosphere, very different from anything Mero had known so far. The streets of the city, usually lively with the cries of merchants and the laughter of children, today seemed muffled under a leaden weight. The pirate lord’s guards patrolled around the inn, their imposing figures enforcing a silence filled with tension. Their armor, though rudimentary, gleamed threateningly under the first rays of the sun, and their piercing gazes swept over every corner, every movement, as though searching for the slightest threat. Passersby, usually noisy and carefree, now walked with an unusual caution, carefully avoiding the gaze of the sailors. The air was heavy, almost tangible, as if the entire city were holding its breath, waiting for something to happen.

Confined to his inn room, Mero wandered like a lost soul. The walls, once reassuring, now seemed to tighten around him, slowly suffocating him. Time stretched on endlessly, each second feeling like an eternity. The absence of Master Antonin and Leila left a deep, almost palpable void. Mero couldn’t help but think of their meeting with the pirate lord, a meeting that could very well determine the course of their fate. The images tormented his mind, but he refused to let fear take hold. He had to stay clear-headed, focusing on the strategic aspect of the situation.

He sat on the edge of the bed, his hands clasped together, and tried to gather his thoughts. If the pirate lord had agreed to postpone the engagement and marriage, he must have certain expectations. Perhaps he wanted to test Mero’s commitment, or assess the influence and resources of his family. Such negotiations could last days, even weeks. He would have to be ready for any eventuality. Mero wondered whether the pirate lord was simply trying to buy time, or if he had a more complex plan in mind. Pirates were not known for their patience, yet this one seemed to be playing a subtle, almost refined game.

Outside, the guards surrounded the inn like a living wall, nullifying any uncertainty. The situation seemed frozen, trapped in an oppressive waiting game. Mero had no choice but to wait, hoping Master Antonin would return soon with instructions. He stood and walked to the window, casting a quick glance outside. The guards were still there, motionless, like stone statues. Their eyes never left the inn, and Mero felt a chill run down his spine. He wondered how long they would have to remain locked in this room, waiting for something to happen.

The silence in the room grew almost unbearable, each minute stretching longer than the last. Mero began pacing the room, trying to shake off the anxiety gnawing at him. Then, suddenly, a figure appeared on the balcony. The young girl stood there, motionless, her gaze fixed on him through the window. She knocked gently, almost timidly, as if waiting for a tacit permission. The image had something surreal about it: while the guards maintained their vigilance below, she dared to defy that tension to come meet him.

Her mischievous smile contrasted strangely with the heavy atmosphere surrounding them. Her elegant and confident movements betrayed a familiarity with navigating complex situations. She seemed to play a role far subtler than that of the simple fiancée imposed by her father. Mero froze for a moment, uncertain of what to do. Why was she here, when her father had already taken control? Was this another maneuver to test him, or was she truly seeking a more personal conversation?

He slowly stood up, opening the window slightly. Without a sound, she slipped into the room with the feline grace of a panther. Her green eyes immediately locked with his, and a mysterious smile briefly touched her lips. She moved toward him, her gaze fixed on his. Mero instinctively recoiled, but the wall behind him halted his retreat. Trapped between her overwhelming presence and the confined space, he felt his breath grow short.

The young girl raised a light hand, gently caressing his face with disarming softness. Before he could react, she pressed her lips to his in a quick but urgent kiss. The room seemed to close in around him, the very air vibrating with the tension that followed this bold act. When she pulled back slightly, a satisfied, enigmatic smile played on her lips, as if she already knew every thought in his mind.

Mero stood frozen, disturbed, his mind overwhelmed by a confusion mixed with fascination. The young girl watched him closely, attentive to every reaction, as if each micro-expression held crucial meaning. What was she expecting from him? A response, approval, or simply proof of his limits? The situation had taken an unexpected turn, and Mero knew that nothing would be the same after this suspended moment.

The contact of her fingers on his cheek froze the moment, as if the world around Mero had stopped, existing only in this unexpected caress. Her skin, soft and warm under his fingers, felt almost unreal, a disconcerting contrast to the tense atmosphere weighing on the room. He should have pulled away, broken this senseless connection, but his body refused to obey reason. A barely perceptible shiver ran down the young girl’s neck, but she didn’t move.

Her smile, once mischievous, shifted into something more subtle, almost enigmatic, as though she had anticipated this gesture, had hoped for it, even manipulated it to happen. Her eyelids lowered slowly, savoring each second, then reopened with a burning gaze. Her green eyes, captivating and inscrutable, fixed on Mero with an intensity that left him powerless.

He wanted to speak, to find words to regain control of the situation, but his throat went dry. Thoughts swirled in his mind, never forming coherent sentences. She, however, seemed perfectly at ease, the master of this suspended moment. Then, without warning, she leaned slightly closer, bringing her lips to his ear. The warm breath that brushed against him made Mero shiver.

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“Don’t be so reluctant,” she murmured in a soft, almost caressing voice, but laden with a disturbing ambiguity. Each syllable seemed to coil around him, leaving behind palpable tension. Before he could react, she pulled back slightly, still holding him with that magnetic gaze.

Mero’s mind wavered between the rationality he had always cultivated and an impulse he didn’t fully understand. This young girl, with her calculated gestures and overwhelming mystery, was pushing him into unknown territory. Every fiber of his being screamed at him to stay on guard, but another, more primitive, bolder voice urged him to follow her, to discover what lay behind that troubling smile.

She took a step back, a mischievous gleam in her eyes, and gestured for him to follow.

— Come, she said simply, like an invitation to cross an invisible boundary.

The air in the room grew heavier, charged with oppressive tension. Mero moved forward, his legs trembling under the weight of adrenaline. Each step seemed to take him further into a world whose rules he didn’t understand. Yet a part of him burned with curiosity, with the urgent need to understand this enigmatic girl and her family's intentions.

As he reached out to grab her wrist, determined not to let her escape, she dodged with disconcerting ease, slipping out of his reach like an elusive shadow. Her crystalline laugh echoed in the room, light but full of calculated provocation.

— You’re still too slow for me, she teased in a soft voice, tinged with challenge.

Before he could react, she spun on her heels and made for the balcony. Her steps were fluid, almost feline, as though nothing could touch her. Mero took a step forward, but she disappeared in a final burst of laughter, vanishing as suddenly as she had appeared.

Silence fell back into the room, but the air still seemed to vibrate with her passing. Heart pounding, Mero stood frozen, his hand still raised in the empty space. A dull anger rose within him. Had she played with him? Was it just a provocation, or a more subtle test, meant to gauge his reactions?

He ran a nervous hand over his face, trying to calm the chaos in his mind. Since his arrival, everything had seemed governed by obscure codes, unspoken rules he struggled to understand. His gaze fell on the box found at the market, the one adorned with his family’s ancient heraldry. The object now seemed laden with mysterious meanings, a piece of a puzzle whose edges still eluded him.

Rage rose in him, brutal and uncontrollable. He had always lived in a structured world, where everything had its defined place, where actions followed an unyielding logic. Here, everything was different—chaotic, elusive. He slammed his fist into the wall, seeking an outlet for his consuming frustration. The dull thud echoed through the room, but it did nothing to quell the fury within him.

After several long minutes of this inner storm, Mero finally breathed deeply. It was pointless. Blind rage would bring him no answers. He ran a trembling hand through his hair, staring once again at the box. Something had changed, he could feel it. An invisible line had been crossed. Nothing would ever be the same again.

Mero slowly descended the inn’s stairs, each step protesting under his weight with a sharp creak, as if the wood itself refused to bear the tension pressing down on his shoulders. The main room buzzed with life, an organized chaos where the boisterous laughter of sailors mingled with the crackling of flames in the hearth. Men with weather-beaten faces sat at tables, their calloused hands clutching mugs of rum that overflowed with foam. The air was thick with the acrid scent of tobacco and alcohol, blending with the spicy aromas of a stew simmering in a blackened pot suspended over the fire.

With measured steps, Mero crossed the room, carefully avoiding the insistent gazes of the patrons. The sailors’ eyes seemed to follow him, heavy with curiosity and distrust, as if they sensed he didn’t belong in their world. The counter, massive and polished from years of service, seemed oddly imposing under the flickering light of the lanterns hanging from the low ceiling.

— A fruit juice, he asked firmly, breaking the ambient cacophony.

The innkeeper, a broad-shouldered man whose apron bore the marks of a thousand hastily prepared meals, squinted slightly, visibly surprised.

— Juice? he repeated, as if the word were foreign to him.

But he nodded without further comment and disappeared behind the counter. A few seconds later, he placed a glass filled with a deep orange liquid in front of Mero, likely a local concoction of tropical fruits and sour citrus.

Without hesitation, Mero grabbed the glass, ignoring the amused murmurs of some sailors who had probably expected him to ask for rum, like any respectable man in this tavern. Their muffled laughter echoed behind him, but he paid it no mind. He had other things on his mind.

He ascended the stairs as silently as he had descended, still carrying that invisible weight that compressed his chest. Once in his room, he locked the door behind him, cutting off the clamor of the outside world. The relative calm of the room enveloped him like a soothing blanket. The wooden walls, worn by the years, released a subtle resinous smell, reminiscent of distant forests from which they had been torn. The rustic bed, covered with a thick blanket in dull shades, awaited him patiently, but Mero had no intention of resting.

He placed the glass on the small table near the window and pulled out the book he had bought for Leïla. The pages, yellowed with age, crackled slightly under his fingers as he turned them carefully. The collection contained tales and legends from another time, stories of capricious gods, forgotten heroes, and submerged kingdoms. The words seemed to dance before his eyes, and for a moment, he managed to escape the turmoil that threatened to consume him.

Mero’s gaze drifted into the dimness of the room, fixating on an invisible point beyond the walls. The girl, her fleeting kiss, her enigmatic smile… All of it swirled in his mind, mingling with the words of the book.

He snapped the book shut with a sharp crack, breaking the silence of the room. The half-empty glass of fruit juice still rested on the table, forgotten. Mero rose and moved toward the window, pushing the shutters open to let in the night breeze. The cool air brushed his face, but he found no comfort in it.

The stars sparkled above the city, indifferent to the torments of men. Mero gazed at them for a moment, searching for an answer in their distant light. But the stars remained silent, as they always had.

He knew he wouldn’t be able to escape what awaited him.

Mero shut the shutters and sat back down, picking up the book once more. For tonight, he would have to settle for legends.