"Hey… don't cry."
Rayan spoke softly as he moved closer to Aria. He gently wiped the tears from her cheeks and stroked her hair.
Aria looked up at him, her eyes swollen and red, hiccupping now and then.
Rayan held back a smile. She reminded him of the rabbit he once raised—small, helpless, and trembling. But at the same time, something inside his chest felt weird seeing her this way.
He kept patting her head gently until her crying slowed.
But he felt frustrated. He still didn't know why she was upset. If only he could speak her language...
Was it because of Tristan? His gaze darkened at the thought.
Outside, Tristan suddenly shivered.
"The hill's unusually cold today," he muttered, clueless about the real reason for the chill down his spine.
Back in the hut, Rayan gave a sigh of relief as Aria stopped crying. He returned to his seat and looked at her.
She looked back at him.
After a quiet moment, Rayan pointed to himself and said, "Rayan."
Aria frowned slightly, trying to understand. She focused on his lips.
He said it again, slower this time. "Rayan."
He'd realized earlier that he didn't even know her name—something that had bothered him ever since Tristan asked who she was. Now he wanted to fix that.
"Rayan," he repeated patiently.
Aria blinked, then slowly tried to mimic him.
"Ra... Rayan..."
Rayan froze for a second, surprised. Then a soft smile spread across his face—calm and gentle, completely unlike his usual sharp expression.
If Tristan had seen him now, he would've sworn the hill was cursed. That smile was unlike anything he had ever seen from his master.
"Yes. Rayan." He nodded and encouraged her with a soft tone.
"Rayan..." she said again, then pointed to herself.
"Aria," she said carefully.
She spoke slowly, as if afraid he wouldn't catch it. "Aa...rii...aaa."
Rayan focused closely and repeated it.
"Aria."
Her face lit up with joy, and her smile was radiant.
"Aria!" he said again, smiling back without even realizing it.
"Yuo!" (Yes!) she chirped, delighted that he got it right.
He repeated her name once more. "Aria."
It was a beautiful name. Just like her.
Why was she crying earlier? he wondered, watching her glowing expression now.
A knock interrupted the moment.
"My Lord! Is everything alright?" Tristan called from outside.
Rayan immediately composed himself. The softness left his face, and his smile vanished.
"Yes. Come in," he replied, his voice flat again.
Tristan stepped inside, glancing between Rayan and Aria. He frowned, confused by the calm atmosphere.
"My Lord... wasn't the lady crying earlier?"
Rayan looked at him coldly. "So?"
Tristan opened his mouth, then closed it. There was no safe answer.
Ignoring him, Rayan reached for the bowl in Aria's hands as she moved to serve the soup. He didn't want her to burn herself.
She didn't resist and seemed cheerful again.
He told me his name. I told him mine... she thought. Does it mean he wants to stay?
Tristan watched with a twitch at the corner of his lips. For some reason, he felt like a third wheel.
Rayan kept glancing at Aria, checking that she wasn't crying anymore, as he helped serve the food.
Soon, the three of them sat down around a small wooden table to eat.
As they began their meal, Rayan asked, "Where are the others staying?"
Tristan, now composed, answered seriously, "We've been moving constantly, My Lord. It seems the Ulrik soldiers know we're here."
Rayan said nothing, but his eyes turned cold. They had been careful—how had the enemy found out?
Tristan continued, "We suspect there's a spy. That's why we split into small trusted groups and searched in different directions."
Rayan nodded. "Tonight, I'll light a fire at the top of the hill. That will be my signal to Lenn."
"I'll go with you," Tristan said.
Just then, Aria began coughing. Rayan turned quickly and patted her back gently, then used his sleeve to wipe her mouth.
"Careful…" he murmured.
Tristan froze, stunned by what he was seeing. His master—patting someone's back? His master?!
This was the same man who once punished a soldier for choking during a meal by making them run Ludwig Hill five times.
Tristan knew—because he had been that soldier.
Now, seeing Rayan gently comfort this young woman... it felt strange.
Why does he treat her so differently? Tristan wondered.
Then he shook his head and reassured himself: She saved his life. That must be it.
If only he knew...