CHAPTER ONE: A STRANGER IN TOWN
The morning air carried the crisp scent of autumn, mingling with the faint aroma of freshly baked bread from the town's only bakery. The small village of Evermere, nestled between rolling hills and endless fields, was a place where little changed. Life moved at a steady rhythm—predictable, safe, and untouched by the affairs of the outside world.
That was why the arrival of a stranger did not go unnoticed.
Alexander Sinclair, though he went by the name Mr. James Turner now, rode into Evermere on a weary black horse. His dark coat was travel-worn, his boots covered in the dust of long roads, and his face—though striking—was shadowed by an unshaven jaw and tired eyes. He had learned to blend into the background, to become unremarkable, but even so, he felt the weight of curious gazes as he passed through the narrow streets.
A woman selling apples paused mid-sale to watch him. A group of children, playing with wooden sticks, froze, their eyes wide. An elderly man leaned on his cane, whispering to his companion.
Xander ignored them. He had spent years perfecting the art of being unnoticed, but in a town like this, where everyone knew everyone, a newcomer was always a subject of speculation.
He guided his horse toward the town's modest inn, The Wren's Hollow, where the innkeeper, a stout woman with graying hair, eyed him with a mixture of suspicion and businesslike interest.
"Looking for a room?" she asked, wiping her hands on her apron.
"Yeah," Xander replied, his voice calm, his accent carefully altered to mask his noble upbringing. "Just for a while."
She studied him a moment longer before nodding. "Payment upfront."
Xander handed her a few coins, ones he had earned through honest labor over the past few years, a stark contrast to the wealth he had once possessed. The thought was bitter, but he shoved it aside. Wealth could be reclaimed. Power could be rebuilt. Revenge… revenge would come in time.
He settled his horse in the stable, securing his saddlebags before stepping back out onto the street. He needed information about the town, about the people, and most importantly, about any whispers of his half-brother, Edmund. He had spent years hiding, gathering resources, and building his fortune in secret. Now, the time for hiding was nearly over.
And then, quite unexpectedly, he saw her.
She wasn't like the others. She wasn't staring at him with open suspicion or curiosity. Instead, she was focused on a small boy, crouched beside him with soft, reassuring words. The child, no older than seven, clutched his scraped knee, his face twisted in pain.
Xander watched as the woman gently took the boy's hand and inspected the wound. Her voice was calm, soothing, filled with a warmth he had not heard in a long time.
"There now, it's not so bad," she murmured, reaching into the basket slung over her arm. "A little salve, and you'll be running again before the sun sets."
The boy sniffled, nodding.
Xander should have walked away. He had no reason to linger, no reason to take interest in a local woman tending to a child. And yet, something about her held him still.
She had a quiet strength about her unshaken confident, yet kind. Her auburn hair was pulled back into a simple braid, wisps escaping in the breeze. Her deep brown eyes filled with kindness, flickered up to meet his gaze just as she finished tending to the boy.
For a moment, neither of them spoke. Then, she stood, dusting off her skirts. "You must be new here," she said. Her voice carried no judgment, only observation.
Xander hesitated before giving a small nod. "Passing through," he replied.
She studied him for a beat longer before offering a polite, reserved smile. "Welcome to Evermere"
And just like that, she turned and walked away, leaving him standing there with an unfamiliar and unshakable thought.
He had come to this town for one reason. Revenge.
But now, for the first time in years, he found himself wondering… if that was all he would leave with.