"Hey, my Breeze, can you hand me the hoof knife?"
"Yes, Father, here it is."
Breeze and his father were busy changing the shoes of the draft horses, a risky job, but in this era, easy work was hard to come by. These horses were gigantic, towering at 5m (16.4ft) tall. To manage them, one had to spend days feeding and caring for them so they'd become accustomed to the human touch. If the horses got even slightly agitated during the shoeing process, you could forget about escaping with your life.
After spending most of the day at work, Breeze had learned from his father by watching. He hadn't started helping practically yet—he was still too young to take on such dangerous tasks. His life was all about learning since the moment he first opened his eyes. As the sun set, they brought the horses back to the stable and retreated to the haystack to relax, which served as their bed.
"My Breeze, now that you've learned the common language and our secret one, it's time I tell you about the world we live in and the hidden secrets most people don't know. Before we dive into it, I must warn you—knowing this could get you a death sentence from the high echelons. There are seven powerful groups, but the highest three are: a noble family and two clans—one calling themselves 'The Chosen' and the other 'The Pure-Blooded.' There's also a mid-tier family and three lower-tier clans, but they dare not use such arrogant names fearing the top three. These groups are unreasonable; avoid them at all costs. Each one has its emblem, but I'll show them to you another day..."
"But, Father, everyone knows about the high-class society. Each group rules a bastion."
"Son, I'm not yet done talking. Learn to listen more than to speak—it's a good habit, one that people have forgotten. I want you to grow into a respectable person in a world where respect is a rare thing."
"I'm sorry, Father."
"It's alright, my Breeze. Just focus. You have much to learn, and I can't repeat a lot because we are tight on time. Now, back to the topic. Haven't you ever wondered why we live in Bastions while the outside world is vast? Or why the high-class people seem stronger and younger than the average person, even their children stronger than most adults?"
As Breeze shared this part of his story with Samar, his eyes widened, and his words trailed off. His mind raced, considering a thousand possibilities in mere seconds.
"Sa... Samar, by any chance, are you... a noble?"
'Curse it!' he thought. 'I'm just a foolish kid. Why didn't I consider that Samar could be a noble, hidden among commoners? All her kindness could be a facade, making people lower their guard... just like I did.'
Samar tilted her head, raising an eyebrow. Giving him a smile that he couldn't understand—was it yes or no? Was she trying to scare him or reassure him?
"Of course, I'm a noble..."
Breeze's heart pounded, his limbs trembling as if they wanted to run. Though paralyzed, he was panicking internally, fearing what Samar might do to him. But then, she caressed his hair, relaxing him with a warm smile.
"You don't need to be agitated. I told you one of my secrets because you told me yours. The fact that I'm a noble doesn't mean I'm related to the nobles you know."
"Huh? Wha—?" Breeze stammered, utterly confused. "What do you mean? Are you playing tricks on me?"
Is she serious or joking? I can't tell. If she were a noble, she'd have executed me by now... or is she luring me to confess everything I know?
"Even I don't know. All I know is that my father told me we are nobles but not those trash nobles, and he warned me never to tell anyone about it."
Feeling completely lost, Breeze kept silent for a moment, then he asked her to give him some time to organize his thoughts.
'Is she really a noble? That is not a noble that I know. Argh, I'm totally confused. Should I trust her or not? If you think about it deeply, I already told her that I know secrets common people don't. I just wanted to warn her about a few things to repay her for saving my life, and now I'm at the risk of dying again. Sigh. Whatever. I'll tell her, but I need to check a few things first.'
Waking him from his self-absorption, she said:
"Are you going to continue the story or what?"
"Please give me time to think about it first."
"Come on, I'm bored. I want to hear the rest."
"What? Are you a child? Can't you be patient?"
"No, I'm a grown lady!"
"Okay, Miss Grown Lady, be patient. I'm going to sleep. Goodnight."
"But it's still afternoon."
"Then, good afternoon."
"No way, you're cruel. Ungrateful!"
"..."
Pouting, she stood up and left the house. Breeze, watching her go, muttered to himself, "Man, I nearly fell for her cuteness. Pouting women are really scary creatures. Maybe I should've told her. I have a reason to be patient as well. I'm really frustrated—being grateful for her kindness blinded my awareness. I should have considered everything before speaking. Now, even if I don't want to continue the story, she already knows I know some hidden secrets. Ugh, if she is the noble I think she might be, I'm done for. So my best choice now is to be patient and trust what she said."
A few minutes later, Samar returned, carrying a bag. A delicious aroma wafted from it, making Breeze's mouth water. She sat next to him, pulling out a piece of flour cake and eating it slowly, deliberately expressing how incredible it tasted. Breeze knew she was teasing him, but he couldn't resist the temptation.
"Ahem! Feed me one of those cakes, and I'll consider continuing the story."
She looked at him with a smirk, feeling victorious. "Hmph! You wish!"
Wide-eyed, Breeze exclaimed, "You wish? Really? Fine. I won't sell my pride cheap just for a piece of cake."
She chuckled. "What pride does a baby like you have to speak about?"
"A baby? For your information, in a few months, I'll be..." Breeze paused, realizing her game.
"You almost had me there. Nice try. You'll never know my age. You still hold a grudge for tricking you into telling me your age earlier."
"Tsk, what a fox! I nearly got you!"
They both burst out laughing, the complicated tension between them dissolving into easy camaraderie.
"Now, take a bite. It's yummy," she said, offering him a piece of the cake.
Breeze took a bite, savoring the rich flavor. The joy of sharing something delicious with someone he liked filled his heart. It reminded him of the old days when life was warm—poor yet happy, just him and his father. He was still poor, of course, but now he had found someone else to care for, someone to share a meal with besides his late father.
"You know, Samar, I'm grateful for everything you've done for me. Even though your identity gives me the shivers, I've decided not to dwell on it. Whether you're a noble or not, I've chosen to trust you. It's a stupid thing to do for someone like me, who usually calculates everything rather than following my emotions. But deep down, I believe you're noble—not by social class, but by heart and principles."
Samar blushed deeply, her face turning as red as a tomato while fanning herself with one hand and punching the wall with the other. Breeze knew she was the kind of person who couldn't handle compliments based on her reaction, but he found it amusing. So he confessed:
"So, Samar, will you marry me?"
Her eyes widened. "Huh... HUH?!"