After Elara and Reina finished their meals, the waiter approached with the bill. The total came to 45 silver coins. Zedd didn't even flinch as he handed over the payment, paying in full without hesitation. The waiter nodded and left, disappearing into the back to attend to other patrons.
Zedd stood up, his movements fluid and calm. He glanced at Elara and Reina, who were still seated at the table. The weight of the day's events was visible on their faces—exhaustion, wariness, and something more, perhaps a glimmer of hope. Zedd felt a strange pull to protect them, but he also knew that his presence could only complicate things further. He had made his decision, though. There was no turning back.
"Come, let's go find a place to stay," Zedd said, his voice gentle but firm.
Reina hesitated, her brows furrowing in confusion. "But where?"
Zedd glanced around the room, then motioned to the wooden sign hanging above the counter that read "Tavern." "This place is a tavern, so we can rent rooms," he replied with a slight smile, trying to reassure them.
With that, Zedd walked up to the counter, his boots making soft thuds against the floor as he moved with purpose. The man behind the counter greeted him with a friendly nod.
"I want to rent a room," Zedd said, his tone low and measured.
The tavern owner looked up, a glimmer of recognition passing through his eyes. "How many rooms?"
"Two," Zedd replied without hesitation. "One for each of them."
The man behind the counter gave a short nod. "And how many nights?"
"One week," Zedd answered. His gaze lingered on the counter, avoiding the man's eyes. He could feel the weight of his own decisions pressing down on him, the guilt still gnawing at him from earlier. But he had to keep moving forward. He had to protect Elara and Reina. He couldn't afford to dwell on past mistakes.
The tavern owner scribbled something in a ledger before looking up again. "For one week, it's five silver coins per room, so for two rooms, it'll be ten silver coins."
Zedd nodded and placed the coins on the counter, watching as the man took them without a word. The owner handed over a set of keys, two small iron ones that jingled as Zedd grasped them. He turned to Elara and Reina, who were standing behind him, waiting with a mix of curiosity and unease.
"You two," Zedd said softly, handing one key to Elara. "Go to your rooms and rest, alright? Today was a long day."
Reina hesitated for a moment, looking up at him, her eyes filled with uncertainty. "What about you? Don't tell me you're going to—"
Before she could finish her sentence, Zedd placed a finger gently but firmly on her lips. "Don't proceed," he said, his voice steady, laced with an underlying calm that belied the turmoil swirling within him. "I won't leave you two. Now go."
Elara, who had been quiet until then, nodded wordlessly, her sharp red eyes flicking toward Reina before she gently took her hand. The two of them turned and made their way to their rooms. Zedd watched them go, his gaze lingering on their retreating forms for a moment before the door closed softly behind them.
The moment the door clicked shut, Zedd let out a quiet exhale, cracking his neck and then his knuckles. His focus shifted, and the familiar tension in his muscles returned. His instincts, honed over years of training and experience, kicked in. He could feel it. The eyes of the shadow agent behind him were still locked onto him. He didn't need to look to confirm it; he knew the agent was there, watching, waiting for the right moment.
Zedd didn't turn around. He didn't even need to. He could sense the agent's gaze, and he knew exactly who this was. A shadow agent—an operative trained for one purpose: gathering information. These agents were experts at blending into their surroundings, invisible to most people. Their goal was to track down dangerous fugitives like him and report their whereabouts to the military. The higher the fugitive's rank, the more elite the assassin or soldier sent to capture them.
But Zedd wasn't worried. The shadow agent may have been trained to observe and gather information, but he wasn't a fighter. He wasn't equipped to deal with someone like Zedd, who had spent years honing his skills and sharpening his abilities. Shadow agents weren't taught how to fight back in combat situations—they were taught to be invisible, to slip away without a trace.
That's their biggest flaw, Zedd thought to himself. He allowed himself a faint smirk as he stood there, the anticipation of what was to come buzzing in his veins.
He muttered to himself quietly, not intending for anyone to hear, but the words felt almost like a promise to himself. I hope you don't have a wife and child. Even if you do, I don't give a damn. I don't care. Only Elara and Reina matter to me now. No one else.
The thought hit him with a sudden, sharp clarity. He realized then, with absolute certainty, that he no longer cared about anyone else—no one from his past, no one from his former life in the military academy. The people he had once known, like Murray and Kayden, no longer mattered. His entire world had shifted, and it revolved around only two people now: Elara and Reina.
It was a harsh realization, but it was the truth.
His gaze remained fixed ahead, even as the shadow agent's eyes continued to bore into him. Zedd didn't flinch. He wasn't intimidated. The agent could stare all he wanted. He wasn't going to make a move until he was ready. And right now, he was content to let the agent stew in his uncertainty.
Zedd wasn't planning on confronting him just yet—not here, not with so many people around. He didn't need to. There was no rush. The agent was just a pawn, another small obstacle in his path. And soon enough, Zedd would deal with him in his own time, with no distractions.
For now, he'd wait. Let the agent think he had the upper hand.
But deep down, Zedd knew something that the agent didn't: He was already two steps ahead.