"Yes, he's an empire foot soldier. He's the reason I'm working long shifts, doing whatever I can to make enough money," Agnes says, her voice trembling, eyes glistening as if tears might fall at any moment.
Strangely, I don't feel any pity. In fact, there's a thrill in the air I'm enjoying instead.
'Not that I care,' I think to myself, though I mask my true thoughts behind a polite nod. "I see. Well, I might be able to help you—on one condition. First, how much do you need to cover his medical expenses, and do you plan to marry him once he's well?" I ask, keeping my tone light.
"A healer charged us five gold coins for his treatment," she answers, shifting uncomfortably. "You gave me one coin earlier, and with my own savings, I have three. Once he's better, yes, we've talked about marriage…"
