"How much for the apple?"
"Two copper pieces."
Aria dug into her little satchel and pulled out a silver piece, which she handed to the merchant. The redhead grabbed the juiciest-looking apple she could see and took a bite.
"Mmh, delicious," Aria cooed. "Keep the change."
The merchant watched the girl walk away, his mouth agape. A whole silver coin for a single messy apple? This woman was either very wealthy, or incredibly stupid.
"Thank you so much!" the merchant called after his generous customer. "May the gods bless you!"
Aria scoffed as she took another bite. Gods? Pssh, fuck the gods, she thought. They're the ones who put me in this miserable existence in the first place.
Aria was a striking ginger with bright blue eyes and smooth bronze skin. In her mid-twenties, she had a delicate, feminine figure and a sweet face, but she possessed the agility and skill of a soldier, and a heart as cold as ice.
She had lived in this little town for over seven years. Her life was simple and quiet; she kept to herself and only interacted with others when it involved food or coin.
To anyone else, it might have seemed like a sad existence, but to Aria, it was perfect. She was grateful for every sunrise she witnessed in the wretched little town.
"I wonder if that snobby lord has another job for me today," she murmured. "I could use a brand-new pair of boots… maybe treat myself a little."
Aria made a living doing odd jobs around town, and her swordsmanship and archery had eventually caught the attention of the lord of their small land. He was pompous and arrogant, but he paid well, and Aria was glad for the work.
The jobs ranged from training his sons to hunting down wanted criminals. Though a woman, Aria was more skilled in combat and hand-to-hand fighting than any man in the town.
She smiled at the thought of brand-new boots on her feet. Maybe she'd splurge on a sword too. Ah, yes, a new sword would be lovely.
"Hey, watch out!"
Aria's daydream was shattered by a voice behind her. She turned to see the commotion, and immediately felt a sharp bolt of pain in her chest.
Looking down, she saw a metal rod protruding from the center of her chest, blood gushing from the wound and dripping from her mouth.
Panic erupted in the market square.
Apparently, a blacksmith transporting old metal in a cart had lost control, sending it hurtling down the road right as Aria crossed. Now, she was a human shish kebab.
"Oh my God! Someone send help!" a woman screamed.
A man rushed to Aria's side, now lying on the paved road drenched in her own blood.
"She's losing a lot of blood! Please, hurry!" he cried.
Turning to her, he desperately tried to keep her conscious. "Don't worry, you'll be fine. Just stay with me. The gods will help you."
His voice sounded distant, fading with each word. Before she fully lost consciousness, she heard him repeat, the gods will help you.
Tch. Gods? Fuck the gods, she thought. They're the ones who put me in this miserable existence to begin with.
*
The high-pitched cries of a newborn echoed through a small cottage.
"Congratulations, m'lady! It's a girl."
The midwife handed the tiny infant to her new mother, who reached out with trembling excitement.
"Oh, she's beautiful," the woman cooed.
"Such beautiful blue eyes," the midwife added.
The mother, in her late forties, had prayed for a child for years. Finally, she held her firstborn in blissful arms.
Across the room, a man glared at the newborn. Tall and slender, in his fifties, with black hair, pale skin, and brown eyes, Richard Strongbow, husband to the new mother, Gezelle Strongbow.
Gezelle's fair skin, dark eyes, and long wavy brown hair made it easy to see why Richard seemed unsettled. The baby's bright blue eyes and reddish-orange hair bore no resemblance to him or to her mother.
Was it possible his wife had been unfaithful? Or was he the one at fault?
Gezelle smiled at him. "Honey, do you want to hold her?"
Richard hesitated. The love in his wife's eyes was undeniable, but how could a woman so sweet bear a child not of his? No, it wasn't possible. They had been married over twenty years, and she had never shown signs of infidelity.
Despite being childless for so long, their love had never wavered. Shame crept over him for doubting her. She was an angel.
An angel… yes. Perhaps this child was a gift from the gods, an answer to their prayers. That would explain her unusual appearance, she was a product of divine intervention.
"Honey?"
Richard's gaze softened. "Of course, darling. I'd love to hold her."
The baby opened her tiny eyes, looking up at him.
[What is this? Where am I? And who is this creepy old man?! Let go, you creep!]
She stretched a tiny hand toward his face, squeaking in frustration.
[Baby hands? Oh no, not this again. Did I die again? Why is this happening?!]
Richard panicked, reaching for her little arms but the baby gripped his finger, calming instantly.
[Sigh. Here we go again… might as well get it over with.]
"She's so small and cute," Richard said, smiling at his wife.
"It seems she likes you," Gezelle replied. "What shall we name her?"
Richard looked down at the infant. "Guinevere… after my mother. Guinevere Strongbow."
"A lovely name, honey."
[I hate it!]
"Hello, little Guine," Richard cooed. "We're going to take good care of you. Oh, thank the gods."
[Enough with the gods already!]