Two weeks after his first visit to Riverend, Ash found himself once again on the forest path with Kalen. His strength had continued to improve, his body gradually recovering from the trauma it had endured.
The sword fragment in his chest remained a constant presence, occasionally pulsing with blue light when his emotions ran high, but otherwise dormant.
"Remember," Kalen said as they approached the forest edge, "today isn't just about supplies. You need to establish yourself as a regular presence in the village. Familiarity breeds acceptance."
Ash nodded, already settling into his commoner's posture and mindset. The role came more naturally now after weeks of practice. "And I should speak with Elder Thorne?"
"If the opportunity arises," Kalen confirmed. "Her interest in you is concerning, but better to address it directly than avoid her and raise suspicion."
The morning sun cast long shadows as they emerged from the forest. Fields stretched before them, workers already tending crops despite the early hour.
Several recognized Kalen and his 'nephew' from their previous visit, offering friendly waves that Ash returned with carefully measured casualness.
"You're getting better at this," Kalen observed quietly.
"Had a good teacher," Ash replied with a slight smile.
As they entered the village proper, Ash took in details he had missed during his first visit. Riverend was larger than it had initially appeared, with perhaps sixty or seventy buildings arranged around the river bend that gave the settlement its name.
Most were simple dwellings of wood and thatch, but some showed greater prosperity stone foundations, glass windows, and slate roofs. A small stone building near the center likely served as a meeting hall, while the wooden structure beside it flew the imperial banner, marking it as the local administrative office.
The sight of the imperial standard, his family's symbol now co-opted by Varius's regime, sent a pang through Ash's chest. The sword fragment responded with a brief flare of warmth, as if sensing his distress.
"Easy," Kalen murmured, noticing his reaction. "Remember who you are today."
Ash took a steadying breath. "Ash from Coldwater. Kalen's nephew. Nothing more."
They made their way to the village center, where a small market had been established.
Unlike the grand markets of the capital with their exotic goods and luxury items, this was a practical affair: farmers selling produce, a woman offering homespun cloth, a man displaying hand-carved wooden implements.
The necessities of rural life, exchanged among neighbors.
Kalen guided them toward a stall selling herbs and medicinal preparations. "Mira's mother runs this," he explained quietly. "Best healer in the region after Elder Thorne. Thought you might benefit from some of her remedies."
The woman behind the stall appeared to be in her forties, with streaks of gray in her dark hair and laugh lines around her eyes. She smiled warmly as they approached.
"Kalen! Twice in a month, and now again so soon? The forest must be getting crowded."
"Just being sociable, Lydia," Kalen replied with a gruff affection that surprised Ash. "Thought my nephew might benefit from your healing knowledge. Still recovering from his journey."
Lydia's keen eyes assessed Ash with professional interest. "Yes, I can see it. Too thin, and there's a pallor beneath your tan." She reached across the stall, her hand hovering near his forehead. "May I?"
Ash nodded, and she placed her palm against his skin, her touch cool and confident.
"No fever now, but there's been illness recently," she diagnosed. "And something else..." Her brow furrowed slightly as her hand moved to his wrist, feeling his pulse. "Unusual rhythm. Strong but... syncopated."
Ash exchanged a quick glance with Kalen. Could she sense the influence of the sword fragment on his heartbeat?
"Old injury," Kalen interjected smoothly. "Took a bad fall as a child. Healed strangely."
Lydia seemed to accept this explanation, though her expression remained thoughtful. "I have something that might help with the recovery. A tonic of ginseng, elderberry, and several other herbs. Strengthens the blood and restores vitality."
As she turned to prepare the mixture, a young woman emerged from the back of the stall, carrying a basket of freshly cut herbs. She appeared to be about Ash's age, with her mother's dark hair and a quiet confidence in her movements.
"Mira," Lydia called, "come meet Kalen's nephew. The one everyone's been talking about."
The young woman approached, setting down her basket. Her eyes, Ash noticed, were an unusual shade of green-gold, bright against her olive skin. She studied him with undisguised curiosity.
"So you're the mysterious nephew," she said, her voice carrying a hint of amusement. "Half the village thinks you're a fugitive Kalen's harboring. The other half thinks you're his secret son."
"Mira!" her mother admonished, though she was clearly fighting a smile.
Ash found himself momentarily flustered by the direct approach so different from the careful courtesies of palace interaction. "Just a nephew," he managed, remembering to maintain his commoner's speech. "Nothing mysterious about it."
"That's exactly what someone mysterious would say," Mira countered with a grin. She extended her hand across the stall. "I'm Mira. Apprentice healer, collector of village gossip, and occasional skeptic of convenient explanations."
Despite himself, Ash smiled as he took her hand. "Ash. Nephew, recuperating, and apparently the subject of wild speculation."
"You've given us little else to work with," she pointed out. "One brief appearance, barely a word to anyone, then vanishing back into Kalen's forest. People fill in blanks with imagination."
There was something refreshing about her directness, a lack of pretense that Ash found oddly liberating after a lifetime of calculated interactions. No one at court would have spoken to a prince with such casual frankness.
"Not much to tell," he replied with a shrug. "My father died, I traveled south looking for work, fell ill on the journey. Kalen's been helping me recover."
Mira's expression softened slightly. "I'm sorry about your father. Was it sudden?"
The genuine sympathy in her voice caught Ash off guard. In his constructed narrative, his fictional father's death was merely a convenient explanation for his presence.
Being offered condolences for this imaginary loss created an unexpected pang of guilt and reminded him of his very real grief for his actual family.
"Yes," he said quietly, the emotion in his voice entirely genuine. "Very sudden."
Something in his tone must have conveyed the depth of his true loss, as Mira's expression shifted from casual interest to gentle concern. "That's always harder," she said. "No chance to prepare or say goodbye."
Ash nodded, not trusting himself to speak further on the subject. The sword fragment in his chest warmed slightly, responding to the surge of emotion.
Lydia returned with a small bottle of dark liquid. "Three drops in water, morning and evening," she instructed, handing it to Ash. "Should help restore your strength."
"What do I owe you?" he asked, reaching for the small pouch of coins Kalen had provided him.
Lydia waved away the offer. "Consider it a welcome gift. We look after our own in Riverend."
"Mother believes in establishing good relationships with potential long-term patients," Mira explained with a teasing glance at Lydia. "Purely medicinal generosity."
"Hush, you," Lydia scolded affectionately. "Don't listen to her, Ash. Though she's not wrong that I hope you'll return if the tonic helps."
"I will," Ash promised, tucking the bottle carefully into his pocket. "Thank you."
As they prepared to move on, Mira spoke again. "Some of us gather at the river bend this evening. Nothing formal, just conversation, maybe some music. You should come."
Her invitation included both of them, but her eyes remained on Ash. "Might help with those village rumors if people actually got to know you."
Before Ash could respond, Kalen answered for them. "We'll consider it. Depends on how our other business goes today."
Mira nodded, seeming to understand the non-commitment for what it was. "The offer stands. Sunset at the big willow, if you change your mind." With a final smile at Ash, she returned to her herbs.
As they continued through the market, Ash felt Kalen's assessing gaze. "What?" he asked once they were out of earshot.
"Interesting interaction," the older man observed neutrally.
"She was just being friendly," Ash replied, though he knew there had been something more in the exchange a connection, however brief, that had felt surprisingly genuine.
"Mmm," Kalen hummed noncommittally. "Mira's well-respected in the village. Smart girl, training to take over her mother's practice someday. Also observant. Be careful what you reveal around her."
The warning was gentle but clear. Any connection, any friendship formed under his false identity carried inherent risk both to his safety and to those who might become close to him.
They continued their circuit of the market, purchasing supplies and engaging in brief conversations with villagers.
Each interaction served to reinforce Ash's presence as Kalen's nephew, a newcomer but not an outsider. He was careful to maintain his commoner's mannerisms and speech, though the effort required less conscious thought than during their first visit.
As they approached the village's small stone meeting hall, Ash noticed a crowd gathering around a notice board. People's expressions ranged from concerned to angry as they read whatever had been posted.
"Let's see what's happening," Kalen suggested, guiding them toward the edge of the group.