As the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky with hues of yellow, purplish, and pink, Ian made his way into the quaint town neighboring his manor. The colors of the sky mirrored the vibrant chaos of the town. Evening was settling in, and the atmosphere was a lively blend of anticipation and activity. The afternoon food market was winding down, making way for the night vendors to set up their stalls. Amidst this transition, the town remained a lively hub of energy and commerce.
As Ian made his way down the bustling street, his keen eyes caught a glint of light emanating from a pair of delicate earrings displayed at a miniature jewellery vendor's stall. Intrigued, he subtly pulled the reins of his horse, guiding the magnificent creature to a graceful halt. The horse obediently stepped back a few paces, aligning perfectly with the vendor's stall, as if it knew its rider's intent. Ian leaned forward, his tall frame gracefully bending to reach for the delicate earrings dangling from the edge of the table. His long fingers gently grasped the string of glimmering pearls, inspecting it with a sense of reverence. The pearls seemed to hold a whispered secret, a story of their own.
A fleeting memory of Nilana flashed through his mind—the vision of her smiling as she adorned those pearls.
"Ah, pearls, Sir," spoke the elderly vendor, his age reflecting in the lines of his face. His gaze fixed on the earrings Ian was inspecting. "They must hold some significance for you."
"Are these real?"
"Without any doubt." The vendor chuckled. "Freshly picked by my wife from the shores of the east, Sir."
With that, Ian asked for a box from the vendor. The old man took out a beautiful pearl white shell and handed it over to him. He placed the earrings inside of the shell before paying the old man with 50 gold coins. The aged vendor cried joyously and blessed Ian, telling him that he had the kindest heart. Hah, how ironic.
As his stallion again started on its hoots, Ian managed to slip the shell inside the pockets of his pants.
It meant nothing to him. He reminded himself.
But it may mean something to Nilana if he gave it to her.
And that thought alone meant something to him.
.
.
.
Aunt Giselle stood at the entrance of the manor, face palming herself, lingering with shock and disappointment. She gasped and regained her life back at the sight of Ian riding his horse towards the manor. She didn't even wait for him to reach the manor gates as she immediately ran off to him. The black horse came to an abrupt halt.
Pulling the reins, Ian's stony gaze followed Aunt Giselle. Before he could talk, she started-
"Praise be to the heavens, thou have returned, Sir Allister!" Anxiety flowed over her face.
"Is everything alrigh-"
"By the grace of God, Sir Allister, this is the case. I instructed her to seek rest, and she was in deep repose. Lo-and-behold, a white pony graced your courtyard, and now she chases after it, not considering her still weakened legs!"
Ian didn't even stay still for the next few seconds, pulling down the reins of his black horse. It galloped at speed towards the manor and entered it on a whim.
Halting right in front of his front yard, He got off his horse. His eyes widened a little, he still could mask his expression.
Never in his life he thought he'd be witnessing a girl, her pastel purple tunic muddied, her hair sticking out everywhere except where it should be. Nilana's delicate lips were parted, which indicated she was out of breath, out of energy. Despite her evident exhaustion, she remained oblivious to his presence, her focus consumed by the elusive white pony. The pony neighed and sped past Ian, momentarily lost behind him, prompting Nilana to give chase once more.
In that swift moment, she collided with Ian, who instinctively caught her by the shoulders. It was then that realization dawned upon her—her savior had returned.
"Mister Ian!" Her eyes glimmered with hope. "You're back!"
"I am," He muttered under his breath. He still held her shoulders, facing her to him. "You're going back to the manor with me."
"But the pony! It's the reason I am sick right now!" She angled her face, trying to take a peek at the white horse behind him. "It went missing, and I- I- had to-"
"You're going straight inside right now."
"But-" In an abrupt move, Ian swept Nilana off her feet and hoisted her over his shoulders, her gasp of surprise filling the air. Despite her frailty, he moved swiftly and with purpose towards the manor. Nilana was taken aback, clinging tightly to his back, her face a mix of astonishment and confusion.
"Mister Ian, what are you doing?" she managed to stammer, frozen by his sudden actions.
"I'm prioritizing your health over chasing a pony," Ian said, his voice stern and serious, devoid of any amusement. He continued to stride purposefully towards the manor, his pace steady and controlled.
"But... the pony..." Nilana began, unsure of how to react.
"Let it go," Ian reiterated, his voice firm and unwavering. He didn't slow down or falter, carrying her with determination.
.
.
.
He stopped right in front of her bedroom, and that's when he let her stand. Flushed from the suddenness of the recent events, Nilana was still in a daze. Trying to cope up, processing the fact that Ian had actually carried her in front of her bedroom.
"Shall you retire and attire yourself in fresh garments, or do you require my assistance in this endeavor?" He had said it in such a nonchalant manner that Nilana, even for a moment, was about to take it as a normal remark. Her face went all cherry red when she took in what he said.
"NO!" she instinctively protested loudly. "No- no. I- I can do that myself." Stammering, Nilana slowly turned the knob of the door. She turned to face Ian for the one last time before she locked the door.
He stood there with a hand in the pocket of his dark blue trousers. His black vest hugged his torso, just the way it should. With all the fancy doublet, vest and thin leather overcoat, he looked like a different kind of noble and gave a new meaning to handsome. How can a human can be this perfectly sculpted and gorgeous?
If it wasn't for the curious piercing gaze of his silver eyes, Nilana could never stop herself from eyeing him.
With a thud, she closed the door behind her back and leaned into it. Her legs were still weak, she wasn't sure if it was the sickness or..... she didn't want to think about the other possibility.