That Summer
Leaving Trevere and boarding the carriage, Killian took Emily past Cité Street toward a hilly district lined with sprawling, high-end mansions. Unlike the typical noble residences on Poenneu Street, small, elegant signs hung before each estate.
The carriage delved deep into the heart of the district, eventually reaching the far edge of the upscale neighborhood. There, a formidable wall topped with iron spikes encircled the perimeter at regular intervals. Despite the sweltering midsummer heat, two knights in full plate armor stood guard at the wide-gated entrance, while uniformed soldiers patrolled the perimeter.
As Emily gazed curiously at the knights through the window, Killian took her hand.
“The area inside is Trache, the district reserved for the Ashton imperial family's villas. It’s accessible only to a select few with explicit permission. Because you can catch glimpses of the imperial residences from here, Trache has become something of a landmark. That’s why the surrounding streets are filled with restaurants and tea houses favored by the high nobility.”
The carriage came to a halt in front of a quaint stone building near the wrought-iron gates. A sign above the entrance read: Serendipity.
As the coachman opened the door, a uniformed server rushed out, bowing politely.
“My apologies, sir, but we are fully booked at the moment. You will have to wait a short while.”
“How long?” Killian asked.
The server replied it would be approximately five minutes. Killian nodded in acknowledgment.
“There are benches out front, but the heat is oppressive today—please remain in your carriage, and we will come fetch you the moment your table is ready.”
Emily looked toward the entrance and saw several long benches by the avenue. True to the server's word, the weather was stifling. They stayed within the carriage, where a cooling artifact circulated a gentle, refreshing breeze.
Killian held Emily's hand as she sat beside him. Feeling the warmth of his palm, she bowed her head in a shy silence.
“My academy friends say this is the most popular date spot in Eliyum,” Killian said softly, breaking the awkward quiet. He met her curious gaze and continued, “Serendipity means 'unexpected good fortune.' They say the fortune cookies here have an eerie way of coming true.”
“...Fortune cookies?” Emily asked.
“Waffle cookies with a strip of paper inside bearing a fortune for the day. Being here with you, I’m certain yours will be a good one.”
Just then, the server returned to escort them. Killian alighted first and offered his hand to Emily.
The interior was designed for total privacy. Past the lobby, the first floor consisted of a long corridor lined with private rooms. They were led to a spacious chamber featuring a four-person table and sliding glass doors that overlooked a lush, blue garden and a terrace. Killian pulled out Emily's chair himself, and she took her seat with a blush.
Killian was habitually considerate. He offered her cool water and consulted her tastes as they ordered from the menu:
Appetizer: Soupe à l'Oignon (Onion soup with thick cheese)
Salad: Salade de Canard (Duck salad with dried cherries)
Main: Carre d'Agneau (Rack of lamb with rosemary and green beans)
Dessert: Mousse au Chocolat (Chocolate mousse)
Wine: A red pairing suited for the lamb.
As the server withdrew, Killian looked at Emily with a tender smile.
“Changing horses at every relay station last night was worth it just to be here. I apologize if I seemed a bit rude earlier.”
Emily smiled, remembering how he had briefly dozed off in the shop earlier.
“Did you enjoy the book I sent you last winter?” Killian asked as the server returned to pour the wine. He waited for her answer with his glass in hand.
“...Yes,” Emily whispered softly.
Killian’s voice brightened. “I’m relieved. I agonized over the choice. I was worried you’d fall for some dashing fictional wizard and forget real men entirely, so I deliberately picked a book with an unpopular mage as the lead.”
Emily’s lips curved into a smile at his unexpected jest. She gathered her courage and met his eyes; he regarded her with a warmth that felt like spring sunlight.
Soon, the meal began. The Soupe à l'Oignon arrived with a mountain of golden-brown cheese melting into the rich broth. Then came the Salade de Canard, featuring tender duck breast and tart cherries that paired perfectly with the wine.
For the main, the Carre d'Agneau was a masterpiece—crisp on the outside, tender pink on the inside, and infused with the aroma of fresh rosemary.
As they reached the dessert, a server placed a martini glass of rich chocolate mousse before her, followed by a golden-brown, heart-shaped cookie.
“The fortune cookie,” Killian explained. “It looks substantial, but it’s hollow inside.”
Killian cracked his open. He unrolled the paper strip and read it aloud.
You will be busy for a long time.
He tilted his head. “Fitting enough, since I graduate the academy in six months. What about yours? I’m curious.”
Emily cracked her cookie with a soft snap and unrolled the strip slowly.
He found you. Be careful, the enraptured.
Emily’s eyes widened. She read it again, but the meaning remained elusive. Killian shrugged at her recitation.
“Sounds promising anyway—if 'he' refers to me.” He raised his glass, his dark-brown eyes intensifying. “To the enraptured?”
Clink. The glasses chimed. Emily’s mind felt blurred—was it the wine, or his ardent gaze?
“Now for a proper date at Eliyum’s landmarks,” Killian said. “Since the cookie says we’ll be busy, we should explore diligently.”
As they walked out arm-in-arm, Emily stopped abruptly.
“What’s wrong?” Killian asked.
“The fortune slip... I meant to keep it as a memento, but I forgot it on the table.”
Killian squeezed her shoulder gently. “I’ll fetch it. Wait here?”
Emily sat on a long bench facing the avenue. The midday sun was blazing, but after being indoors, the warmth felt pleasant. Luxurious carriages passed sporadically along Trache Avenue.
Suddenly, a massive six-horse carriage braked noisily in front of her. As Emily looked up, startled, a pair of large hands covered her eyes.
Mwah. A soft kiss brushed her forehead. As the hands withdrew, Killian cupped her cheeks, gazing down at her.
“Sadly, the staff had already cleared it. I couldn't find the note. Perhaps that was the warning—that I’d lose the slip if I didn't act. Seeing you sitting here, I simply wanted to do what an enraptured man should.”
Emily flushed at his boldness. Killian led her back to the carriage and gently drew her head to rest on his shoulder.
“Just for a moment,” he whispered. “For the busy man ahead.”
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
Bjorn stared out his carriage window, his mind heavy. The Tenbel Mine he had acquired in Astar was a disappointment; mana stone deposits were scarce. The week spent in the stifling, humid heat of the plains had worn him thin.
He yearned for his lodgings in Trache. Eliyum was a beautiful city, but his fiancée, Lady Valois, was a persistent thorn in his side, constantly nagging him about marriage. Trache was his only sanctuary, as it barred visitors without specific passes.
As his carriage passed the upscale dining strip of Trache Avenue, a woman on the sidewalk caught his eye.
She was stunning—platinum blonde hair cascading to her waist, wearing a white dress that glowed in the sunlight. Bjorn peered intently as the distance closed. Her skin was pale, and her translucent gray eyes dazzled.
She sat on a bench, her head slightly bowed. Bjorn froze. It was the woman from the street encounter last winter.
“Stop!” he shouted.
The horses screeched to a halt. As Bjorn moved to fling open the door, he saw a man approach her from behind, covering her eyes and kissing her forehead.
The man was tall and refined—unmistakably Ashton nobility.
Bjorn’s eyes narrowed. She had spoken with a Templeton dialect when they first met, yet here she was with an Ashton noble.
Lovers?
She rose shyly and took the stranger's hand, boarding a white carriage.
Bjorn swallowed dryly. If she belonged to another man, he knew he should forget her. But as he watched the carriage pull away, he wondered if he ever could.
“Go,” he commanded curtly.
With a heavy sigh, Bjorn’s carriage rolled onward into the Eliyum afternoon.