After leaving the headquarters of Roderick Street, Ryn decided we would walk to her home instead of taking a carriage.
Night had already settled across Port Roderick by then.
The harbor glowed beneath countless golden lanterns reflected across the dark ocean water.
Ships swayed slowly beside the docks while distant music drifted from somewhere deeper within the promenade.
The sea wind carried the scent of salt, grilled fish, coffee, and warm stone that had spent all day beneath the sun.
People still filled the streets despite the late hour.
Merchants.
Sailors.
Travelers dressed in elegant coastal fabrics moving beneath rows of swaying lantern light.
Several people greeted Ryn while we walked.
“Miss Roderick.”
Each time, she answered with the same small nod and calm smile before continuing forward beside me.
At some point, without warning, she suddenly spoke.
“Just ask.”
I looked at her immediately.
“What?”
“You’ve been staring at me for days.”
She did not even look toward me while saying it.
“You clearly want to ask something.”
I remember feeling strangely exposed at that moment.
As if she had casually reached into my thoughts and pulled them into the open.
For a while, I said nothing.
Only the sound of waves and distant harbor bells filled the silence between us.
Then eventually, I admitted it.
I told her I knew her full name.
Aeryn Valeria Roderick.
I explained that I had seen it accidentally while helping organize documents back in Tailwind.
Ryn listened quietly.
Then simply asked,
“So?”
I stared at her.
She finally glanced toward me.
“Does anything change because you know?”
And somehow—
That was exactly the problem.
“You didn’t change,” I answered before fully thinking.
I remember feeling oddly frustrated while saying it.
“You’re still just… you.”
Ryn laughed softly beneath her breath.
“The successful one is my father,” she said.
“Not me.”
After that, we walked in silence for a while.
Not uncomfortable silence.
Just quiet.
Lantern light reflected across the harbor water beside us while footsteps echoed softly against the stone promenade.
Eventually, Ryn spoke again on her own.
She told me she had two brothers.
An older brother she described as “strange.”
Then corrected herself.
“A weirdo.”
I laughed harder than I expected.
Her younger brother, apparently, had already built successful connections with military contracts and central government trade.
He had no interest in inheriting Roderick Street itself.
Which left the position to her.
Ryn did not sound bitter while explaining it.
If anything, she sounded practical.
She said she had always been interested in commerce anyway.
That she never considered it a sacrifice.
I nodded along while listening.
Then after a short hesitation, I finally asked something else.
“How did you end up traveling with Caravan Master?”
For the first time since leaving the headquarters, Ryn became slightly quieter.
Not guarded.
Just thoughtful.
She explained that Caravan Master and her father were close friends.
Very close.
Apparently her father entrusted her to him years ago so she could learn how the world truly worked before officially inheriting Roderick Street.
Trade routes.
People.
Negotiation.
Reality beyond polished guild halls.
But after a while, Ryn admitted she believed that was only part of the reason.
She said her father probably understood something she herself rarely admitted aloud.
That when she was younger—
She had wanted to become an adventurer.
Not a guild heir.
Not a successor.
An adventurer.
After saying that, she smiled slightly while looking ahead toward the lantern-covered streets.
Small.
Faint.
The kind of smile people wear when looking at something that no longer exists.
“That was just a childhood dream,” she said quietly.
“Life has to be realistic eventually.”
I did not know how to answer her after that.
Perhaps because part of me understood what she meant.
And another part of me did not want to.
Before I could ask anything further, Ryn suddenly slowed her pace.
Then nodded toward the hill overlooking the harbor.
“That’s my home.”
I looked up immediately.
And blinked.
For some reason, I had imagined something enormous.
A ridiculous merchant palace filled with stern guards and polished marble stairs.
Perhaps even handsome gatekeepers standing dramatically beneath banners.
Instead, the manor resting above the harbor looked…
Warm.
Elegant, certainly.
Large enough to make clear the family’s status.
But not excessive.
Soft golden light glowed through wide windows beneath red-tiled roofs while palm trees swayed gently around the gardens facing the sea.
The entire place felt lived in.
Not displayed.
And embarrassingly enough—
My first thought upon seeing it was:
Where were all the handsome guards I imagined?
Komentar
Posting Komentar