Chapter 3

The soldiers were in a rush, marching way faster than the wagons could roll.

For three days straight, I just stayed put in the grain cart and didn't go anywhere.

Whenever I got hungry, I'd nibble on some bread. When thirsty, I'd chew on a pear. And when I got sleepy, I'd just use the sacks of grain as a pillow.

Just like that, I quietly tagged along all the way to Northreach.

I was sleeping soundly when the stuff piled above me suddenly got shifted away.

The sudden flash of light made me blink awake. I rubbed my eyes, sat up, and poked my head out to see what was going on.

Right then, I came face-to-face with a cook hauling supplies.

"A ghost!" he yelped.

The next moment, a sword was pointed at me. "Don't move!"

All my drowsiness vanished. I clutched my bundle, frozen, not even daring to brush the straw from my hair.

Seeing I wasn't a threat, the cook relaxed slightly, though he still looked confused. "How did a girl get in the supplies? Stay put. The commander will want to question you."

I nodded eagerly, heart pounding, but as the wind swept past, I stole a glance outside.

So this was Northreach.

The wind was fierce, whipping sand through the air, blotting out the sun and sky. I could barely see its light.

How long would it take for this wind to clear all the fog from my brain?

A long while later, someone approached. Calm, steady, a letter in hand.

I turned at the sound and saw someone who looked strangely familiar, even though I was sure we'd never met.

He was tall, with broad shoulders. His dark armor fitted his lean frame perfectly, and he carried an air of authority.

But that face... I was totally stunned.

I blinked hard, making sure I wasn't just imagining it.

Then, without thinking, I burst into tears and threw my arms around his waist, crying into his armor.

"Charlie, why are you in Northreach? Is this a dream? You said I needed to clear my head, so I came here," I cried out.

I added, "They say the wind is strong here. It'll make me smarter, right? I'm sixteen now, old enough to marry. Once the wind makes me smart, will you marry me?"

The soldiers nearby gasped in shock at the scene.

"What did you just call me?" His cold voice rumbled from above, full of pressure.

Oh no, Charles told me not to call him that anymore.

I'd been too happy to remember, and now I was sure I'd be scolded.

But he didn't push me away. Instead, he reached over and gently picked the straw from my hair.

"Lilian Somerset, granddaughter of the late Lord Ashford," he said. "By right, you should call me 'uncle.'"

Hearing that, I looked up and met his eyes.

They were striking. Sharp eyebrows, long lashes, pupils like stars against the night.

Meeting his gaze felt like falling into a sky full of starlight.

But... uncle?

I bit my lip, emotions swirling, but I couldn't bring myself to say it.

He was taller and tanner since coming to Northreach, but... uncle?

"What if I just call you my brother instead of 'uncle' or 'Charlie'?" I asked, trying to sound sweet.

I might be slow, but I knew I shouldn't get family titles wrong.

I was going to marry him one day. How could I call him uncle?

He studied me, then the corner of his mouth lifted slightly, softening his stern expression. "Do you even know who I am?"

I stared at his face, turning it this way and that, but I just couldn't see anything odd about him.

No doubt about it. He was Charles.

His eyes seemed bigger, his nose more defined, his features sharper, and his skin a bit darker than before.

Northreach was a harsh place, so it was no surprise he changed a little.

So I met his eyes and declared, "You're my fiancé!"

Ever since I fell into the water as a child, only Grandma and Charles have really been there for me.

I knew I was not wrong.

The soldiers around us inhaled sharply, but a look from him silenced them.

"My name is William Zeller," he said, his tone cool. "Do not mistake me for another."