Chapter 5 - Feigned Indifference

Chapter 5 - Feigned Indifference

The morning was still fresh with the scent of dew clinging to the earth, the sun's rays barely cutting through the dense canopy of trees as Georgia stumbled along the gravel road. Her body ached with every step, but she pushed herself forward, driven by the desperation to escape the nightmare she had left behind. Her clothes were torn, smudged with soot and ash from the fire that had consumed her home, and her face was streaked with dried tears. The blindfold she wore over her eyes was damp with sweat and tears, sticking uncomfortably to her skin.

The road stretched endlessly before her, winding through the thick woods that bordered the Western Region. She had no idea how long she had been walking when the sound of an approaching car broke through the fog of her thoughts. It was a faint hum at first, growing louder as it drew nearer. Georgia's heart skipped a beat, panic rising in her chest. She was a rogue now, vulnerable and alone, and the roads were not safe for someone like her — a silver eyed werewolf. But as the car drew closer, she realized she had no strength left to run or hide. She was too exhausted, her legs trembling with each step.

The car slowed down as it neared her, the engine purring softly before coming to a halt a few meters ahead. Georgia stood frozen, her senses on high alert. She heard the car door open and the shuffle of footsteps on the gravel road. 

"Dear, are you all right?" The voice was soft, tinged with concern, and unmistakably that of an elderly woman. Georgia turned her head in the direction of the voice, her hand instinctively reaching out to steady herself against the rough bark of a tree.

"I... I am fine," Georgia replied, her voice barely above a whisper. She knew she looked anything but fine.

The woman approached slowly, her footsteps cautious as if she were afraid of startling Georgia. "Are you sure, child? You look like you have been through quite an ordeal." The woman's voice was warm, maternal even, and Georgia could hear the genuine concern in her tone.

Georgia hesitated, unsure of how much she should reveal. She had to be careful — trusting the wrong person could be dangerous. But the fatigue in her bones was overwhelming, and the thought of continuing on foot was unbearable. "I... I need to get to the Northern Capital," she finally admitted, her voice trembling with exhaustion.

There was a pause, and then the woman spoke again, her tone gentle. "You are in luck, dear. I happen to be heading that way myself. My name is Lena, by the way." Georgia could hear the smile in her voice. "If you would like, I can give you a ride."

Georgia's heart pounded in her chest. The offer was tempting — too tempting. But what if this woman was not who she seemed? What if she had ulterior motives? Georgia had heard stories of rogues being captured, tortured, or worse by those who pretended to offer help. But as she stood there, wavering on the edge of collapse, she knew she had little choice. The Northern Capital was still miles away, and she did not have the strength to make it on her own.

Taking a deep breath, Georgia nodded slowly. "Thank you... Lena," she said, her voice barely audible. "I would appreciate that. I am Georgia by the way."

Lena reached out and gently took Georgia's hand in hers, her touch soft and reassuring. "Come on, then, Georgia." She guided Georgia toward the car, her steps slow and careful. 

The car was an old model, Georgia could tell by the sound of the creaking door as Lena opened it. The interior smelled of worn leather and a faint trace of the same lavender scent that clung to Lena's clothes. As she slid into the passenger seat, Georgia's fingers brushed against the cracked leather of the seat, and she could feel the years of wear in its texture. The car was old but well-maintained.

"Thank you," Georgia murmured, her voice thick with fatigue as she leaned her head back against the seat. She couldn't see Lena, but she could sense the woman's kind presence beside her.

"There is no need to thank me, dear," Lena replied, her voice soft as she guided the car onto the road. "You remind me of my granddaughter, you know. She lives in the Northern Capital, too. Such a kind girl, always helping others. It's been too long since I've seen her."

“But what happened to you?” Lena asked, glancing at Georgia’s poor state. 

“Our house burned down with my parents inside. I have nowhere else to go,” her voice cracked as she was reminded of her now dead parents. She was not even able to say goodbye to them properly.

“Oh, dear. I am so sorry to hear that. But where do you go to the Capital? Do you have relatives there?” Lena asked.

“No. I do not know,” she trailed. “I had to leave our place and perhaps, by chance, I could get a job in the northern capital. If you know someone? I mean, even though I am blind I could do chores, clean houses, wash dishes, I can even cook. I was trained by my parents, I could function very well since I had been blind since I was a kid. So, for anyone who needs help with chores, cleaning, organizing, errands, or anything else, perhaps you could recommend me to some people? I really need it.”

"Let me see... I could talk to my husband about it. We have a flower shop, and we could use some help—especially with us getting older. Do you know how to work as a cashier?"

"Yes."

"And organize things? Handle the stock, cleaning, errands, maybe even some deliveries?"

"Yes, I can."

"Alright then. For now, you can stay at the shop. There's a small room in the back that we used as storage, but we can clean it out for you to use if that works for you?"

"Yes, that would be more than fine."

Maxton arrived at the Woodbrick pack after hearing the news that there was an arson that happened during the Royal Tryst. He ordered his men to investigate it but it had been three days and yet they were not able to capture the culprits. Allegedly, they were rogues who had tried to take revenge on the Woodbrick pack due to the recent attack they had done to eliminate the rogues lurking in their lands. They planned to put the pack’s villages on fire while a lot of them had attended the royal tryst.

He rounded the charred remains of Georgia’s house, now nothing but smoldering wood and ash, searching for any sign of where she might have gone. Despite reports of her banishment, he feigned indifference, masking his true feelings with a façade of nonchalance. Deep down, he was seething over the Woodbrick Pack’s hasty decision to exile her. Yet, outwardly, he maintained his pride, a lingering reminder of the rejection he had faced before he turned his back on her. He convinced himself that her absence was for the best. With her gone and her whereabouts unknown, he hoped it would be easier to forget her.