To Love, Once Again

Chapter 42

Lois and Sera sit on a log outside the colorful Azark tent, taking a break over some wild flower tea Gaer's wife had kindly prepared for them.

Aslan was off grazing, somewhere in the deep green woods, the cart parked in the clearing.

They watch Lucien as he helps unload the heavy burlap sacks with the other burly men, their skin taking on a glossy shine with sweat. It's a feast for the eyes, where every man has stripped down to his trousers, the younger boys cheering them on while they dutifully watch over the shed clothes. The Azarks are a handsome people, with different shades of blond hair that range from icy white to wheat yellow, and rugged features that are highlighted by their deep-set eyes and strong noses.

Lucien was the real eye candy, among them, Sera enjoying the view of his body that's been honed to perfection, the contours of muscle reminding her of the Herculean power it contained. Even Lois fans herself before his splendor.

Chuckling, she'd leaned over and whispered to Sera.

"I'm not too old to appreciate a good view"

Lucien doesn't seem to notice the twitters from the young unmarried women, marked by their unbound hair, and glances from mothers with plaited hair, the little girls outright staring at him.

Lucien hadn't noticed. He didn't care to notice the attention. He was busy being aware of where Sera was at all times. Annoyed that the veiled hat he'd brought for Sera brought her more attention than it did before, small children trying to play peek-a-boo with her, and Sera laughing and playing along. He should've made her wear it before she left. The less people who knew her beauty, her brown eyes that turned gold in happiness, her sweet smile, the better.

Now they all knew what she looked like.

Sera knew it wouldn't be long before Lucien took her back. He'd been sweet to her recently, trying to make up for what he did, making her his mistress.

"Lois, can you tell me what this place is?"

Lois sets her rough mug down on the tree stump that served as a table.

"I don't know much either. A few moons ago, he knocked on the door while I was helping a birth. Gave these people here such a fright, making me come straight away in my bloodied clothes, he did."

Sera could imagine the sight. The Azark people, shocked to see a old women with blood on her clothes brought here by the King of Thornmere, and Lois, speechless to see Azark people living in Thornmere.

Not wanting anyone to be offended, Sera covers her mouth and whispers into Lois' ear.

"But why are the Azark people here? I thought everyone here hated them with a passion"

Moving her cup around while the settled petals and flower heads float back up to the surface, Lois speaks in a low voice.

"No one would tell me. From what I gather, they're refugees. One of the Border People.."

Nodding to the hairstyles of the men and women there,

"Look"

Sera follows Lois' gaze.

"See how the men and women have clearly different styles of plaits, unmarried and married?"

"I've heard that no one in the imperial cities of Azark dress like that any more from a peddler. Only the Azai, the nomads of the border, follow the old traditions,"

This was extremely rare information that only Lois knew. It was because of a wandering peddler who'd stopped by on his trek through the forest where Lois dwelled, on one of his strange jaunts with no destination. He was probably the only man who was crazy enough to travel between the two countries at war, and was a valuable but sometimes unreliable source of information.