"How touching," Silvia purred, her voice like honey laced with ground glass. "I must say, Senior, I'm surprised. I didn't take you for one to grow so… fond… of a human. And such a young and healthy one at that. It's almost quaint."

Elara didn't even look at her as she walked back to her seat. She picked up her teacup, finding it had gone cold. She dropped the cup before focusing on her unwanted company.

"Don't be absurd," she said, her voice dismissive and flat. She placed one leg over the other ever so elegantly; the gesture seemed to bring out the air of boredom around her.

"He's merely a pastime. A simple diversion to entertain me in this backwater place. There's nothing more to it."

"If you're looking to anger me, I suggest you don't." Elara ended her sentence with a flash of chilling light in her eyes.

Silvia smiled, refusing to believe her words. "Of course. A diversion… Is that why you let him get so close to you?"

"Even he hasn't been able to get as close as he did. Come to think of it…" Silvia placed a finger on her chin, her expression one of pondering. "I hardly recall you ever letting one come close to you, not to mention brush your gracious skin."

"You say he's nothing but a mere distraction, yet you even condoned such intimate actions, such as whispering into his ear?" Silvia chuckled lightly.

"Well, I'm sure it has nothing to do with me. We both do have different preferences."

"I'm sure that's very… entertaining. For you." She leaned forward, her eyes glinting with malicious curiosity. "What exactly is the 'favour' he owes you, I wonder? It must be quite something to make a strapping young man blush like a maiden."

Elara remained impassive, placing her cup back on the saucer with a quiet clink. Yet if one looked closely, they would notice several faint, frigid cracks all over its surface.

"I'll do it." Before Silvia could speak another word, Elara suddenly cut her off. The words were calm, clear, yet unexpected to the point that Silvia's expression faltered briefly.

Silvia stopped mid-sentence, her smirk freezing and then melting into genuine surprise. She blinked. "I beg your pardon? Come again?"

Elara, who had been glancing out the window the entire time, turned her head, her dark eyes finally meeting Silvia's. There was no emotion in them, only a flat, cold resolve. "I said I'll do it. The task. I will comply."

Silvia's surprise quickly morphed into a deep frown.

'What's this witch playing at…' Silvia found it too hard to believe. She had come here personally because she believed it would take a lot—and she meant a lot—just to increase the odds of getting her to comply, and yet? She had actually agreed all of a sudden.

This was too easy. There had been no fight, no further threats, and still, she suddenly agreed?

"Why?" she demanded, her voice losing its playful edge. "What changed your mind?"

A sneer touched Elara's lips. "Why is my reason important? You came here to deliver a command. I have given you my answer. Is that not what you wanted? Is that not what he demands?"

Silvia's frown deepened, her frustration evident. Elara's sudden compliance was not satisfactory to her in the least. Moreover, she highly suspected that she had no ill intentions for agreeing so quickly. Nevertheless, she also knew there was nothing she could do about it; after all, she was merely a messenger at the moment. The only one who had the final say was… him.

After a short moment, Silvia scoffed, rising from her chair with ease, looking every bit irritated. "Fine. Have it your way. Meet me at the edge of the forest at first light tomorrow. Do not be late." She clearly wanted to say more, to lash out, but Elara's impenetrable calm offered no opportunity for her.

Elara turned back to the window. She then used her finger to push a stray strand of hair behind her ear, her eyes drifting away as if Silvia were already gone. When she glanced back, the chair opposite her was empty.

The room was silent once more. The only disturbance now was the crackling fire in the fireplace, and the only evidence that the conversation had happened at all was the fine teacups on the table.

******

After running for who knew how long, Adrian finally slowed his pace, his breath pluming in great white gusts in the cold air. He leaned against the rough bark of a nearby pine, his heart still beating a little too fast.

"...Wow," he said to himself, his disbelief evident.

"I never knew Lady Elara was so… forward…"

"Promiscuous, even."

The memory of her unexpected advances—her breath on his ear, her finger under his chin—sent another flush of heat through him that had nothing to do with his hurried walk.

"It's a good thing I got out of there when I did. Who knows what that 'favour' would have been?" He chuckled bitterly, wondering why he'd ever made such a promise to her in the first place.

He pushed off from the tree, intending to head straight home, when a bizarre sight ahead made him stop dead in his tracks. Further down the path, a massive, teetering pile of logs was moving through the air as if by magic. It was a small mountain of firewood, easily twice his own height, drifting slowly toward the village. He rubbed his eyes, thinking the cold was playing tricks on him.

Then he saw them: a pair of booted feet, barely visible, trudging steadily beneath the immense burden.

"Either I'm still suffering from Elara's aftereffects or this is actually real…" He hurried forward, his personal confusion forgotten, and as he got closer, he recognised the determined set of those shoulders bearing the pressure of the huge weight above.

"Grey!" Adrian shouted in alarm.

'D-Darling?'

Grey came to a halt when she heard the voice of the one she held dearest of all. The entire pile of logs swayed precariously. Her face was flushed bright red with strain, and she was breathing in ragged, hard-won gulps of air, yet her expression was one of pure, stubborn determination.

"Adrian…?" she puffed out, her voice strained.

"What are you doing?!" he exclaimed, his voice full of worry as he rushed to her side. "That's too much! Why would you even take on such a thing? Are you trying to hurt yourself!" He quickly began helping her lower the colossal load. Using some of Snow's and Emma's strength, he was able to guide the logs to the ground, where they landed with a series of heavy thuds.

The moment the weight was off her, Grey's legs gave way and she slumped backward, landing in a soft snowdrift with a soft whump. She lay there, chest heaving, staring up at the grey sky.

Adrian squatted beside her head, his face etched with concern. "Why, Grey? Why would you carry so much all by yourself?"

She turned her head to look at him, her pale eyes filled with a sincere, apologetic sadness. "I… only wanted to help," she muttered, her voice weak. "Mother said the pile was small. So I wanted to make it big again…"

"Is that why you decided to almost kill yourself?!" Adrian glared at her, but he froze when he saw the look of fright on her face.

Adrian massaged his forehead and took a deep breath to calm himself.

"Helping doesn't mean you should hurt yourself, Grey."

"You don't have to carry the entire forest to be useful. Just carrying a small pile would've been good enough."

"I'm sorry…" Grey nodded and apologised.

"It's okay," he said, patting her on the head. "Just… please, promise me you won't do something like this again."

"You had me worried for a moment there."

She gave a small, tired nod. "I promise."

He waited there with her in the snow until her breathing evened out and some colour returned to her face. When she seemed recovered, he stood and offered her his hand. She took it, and he pulled her gently to her feet.

"Alright," he said, looking at the mountain of wood. "No one is carrying that alone. We'll split it into two piles. We can carry it home together. How does that sound?"

A happy, relieved smile instantly replaced her look of exhaustion. "Together?"

"Yes, together. There's no way I'm letting you hurt yourself."

"Whenever you need help, I'll always be there. We'll share the burden together." He said with a sunny smile.

Grey's cheeks turned rosy, and she agreed with a firm nod.

They worked quickly, dividing the logs into two more manageable—though still impressively large—loads. Hoisting his share above him like Atlas bearing the weight of the cosmos, Adrian groaned from the weight but gritted his teeth and refused to give in.

He even intentionally reduced the amount of strength he was taking from his bonds, for reasons known only to him. Grey did the same with hers; her strength was clearly not fully depleted. As they began their walk home side-by-side, they drew stares from every villager they passed. People stopped their chores, their mouths agape, watching the young herb gatherer and his strangely strong companion carry what should have been a week's worth of firewood in a single trip.

Grey noticed the stunned looks and glanced worriedly at Adrian, afraid they were causing trouble.

But Adrian just caught her eye and chuckled, shaking his head. "Don't mind them," he mumbled to her, a grin spreading across his face. "It's kind of fun to see their faces like this, isn't it?"

Grey was silent for a moment, processing his reaction. Then, a small, hesitant giggle escaped her mouth. Seeing him find joy in it made her own worry melt away.

"You're… right. They do look funny." Another giggle followed, a little louder this time.

Adrian laughed along with her, and soon the two of them were walking through the village, their shoulders burdened with wood but their spirits light, sharing a quiet, joyful moment of shared laughter as the astonished villagers looked on.

The journey back through the village with their enormous loads of firewood had been a strange yet wonderful moment. Now, as they approached the house, Adrian shook his head at Grey when she moved to drop her pile directly in front of the house.

"Not here," he said, his voice a little strained from the weight. "Come around back."

He led her along the side of the cottage to the backyard, where the evidence of their morning's butchering had been carefully cleaned up, leaving only a dark stain on the packed earth and the lingering, metallic scent of blood on the cold air.

Grey was confused since there was nothing but a frail fence surrounding the house, but she still followed him nonetheless.

Eventually, Adrian stopped at a seemingly solid section of the tall wooden fence. He set his load down with a grunt, then reached for a specific plank. With a practiced push and a slide, a hidden section of the fence—cleverly balanced and camouflaged—swung inward, creating a narrow passageway.

He looked back at Grey with a proud, boyish chuckle. "Put this in a few years back. It actually saved me a lot of time coming and going from the woods."

"Though it's been long since I used it."

Her eyes widened with interest, and she carefully manoeuvred her own pile of logs through the secret opening. Inside the enclosed yard, Adrian took the lead, showing her how to stack the wood against the side of the house without making too much noise, creating a neat, towering wall of makeshift fuel.

Adrian was about to catch his breath when the back door opened and Melissa stepped out, likely drawn by the sound of their arrival—no matter how much they tried not to make a sound, it seemed they weren't completely successful.

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