Chương 29: Finally some good Food

The sun had dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of deep orange and violet, by the time Alex reached the bustling heart of the capital city. His pouch of freshly earned coins hung heavy at his side, a weight that brought a rare sense of satisfaction. His feet, though aching, carried him with purpose through the crowded streets. The capital's energy was a stark contrast to the desolation of the forest he had left behind—a lively chaos of street vendors, glowing lanterns, and the hum of countless voices.

Alex's first stop was a small restaurant nestled at the corner of a busy street. The scent of roasted meats wafted through the air, drawing him in like a siren's call. Inside, the warm glow of candlelight illuminated a modest interior. He placed his order—a full chicken roast and a selection of fresh fruits—and leaned against the counter, his gaze wandering to the other patrons. Workers, adventurers, and common folk filled the space, their laughter and conversation forming a soothing backdrop.

When the food was handed to him, wrapped neatly in paper and tied with twine, Alex paid the shopkeeper and stepped back out into the cool evening air. The weight of the food in his hands was comforting—a reminder that he had made it through another grueling day.

The walk to his house was a long one, taking him past the vibrant streets of the capital and into the quieter outskirts. Here, the streets grew narrower, the houses smaller and more worn. This area was far removed from the opulence of the city's core, but Alex didn't mind. It was quiet, the kind of place where one could slip into the shadows and be forgotten—a trait he valued above all else.

His current home sat at the very edge of this district, a small wooden house tucked away from the main road. The structure was simple, its frame weathered and unadorned, but it was sturdy. At a rent of just 10 copper per month, it was affordable—exactly what Alex needed while he figured out his next steps.

The house's location was another advantage. Close enough to the capital to access its resources but far enough removed to avoid unnecessary attention. For Alex, it was the perfect balance.

As he approached, the dim light of a lantern hanging from the porch greeted him, swaying gently in the evening breeze. He stepped onto the creaking wooden boards of the porch, his footsteps slow and deliberate. Pushing the door open with his shoulder, he stepped inside, his arms laden with the food he had brought back.

The house's interior was as modest as its exterior—a single room that served as both living and sleeping quarters, with a small kitchen space tucked into one corner. The furniture was sparse: a simple table and two chairs, a bed near the far wall, and a small shelf that held a few personal items.

Alex's eyes were immediately drawn to the bed, where Lyra lay asleep. She was curled beneath a patchy blanket, her dark hair fanned out across the pillow. The soft rise and fall of her chest was the only movement in the otherwise still room.

Setting the food on the table, Alex moved quietly, his footsteps careful not to disturb the silence. He stood for a moment, his gaze lingering on Lyra. Despite her sharp tongue and blunt demeanor, she looked impossibly small and fragile as she slept.

"I am not that type of guy who falls in love easily. So, wake up, Lyra. I know you are awake."

Alex's voice cut through the stillness of the room, low but firm. His eyes didn't leave her figure on the bed, where she lay motionless under the patchy blanket. For a moment, there was no response, just the faint rustle of the wind outside and the distant hum of the city beyond.

Then, Lyra's shoulders tensed, a subtle movement that betrayed her. She sighed, long and slow, before rolling onto her back and glaring at Alex through half-lidded eyes. "You're annoying, you know that?" she muttered, her voice rough with sleep.

A faint smirk tugged at Alex's lips. "Only because you make it easy."

Lyra groaned and sat up, her hair a tangled mess around her face. She rubbed at her eyes before squinting at Alex, who leaned casually against the table, arms crossed, an amused look on his face.

"You brought food?" she asked, her tone flat but her gaze flicking to the table, where the chicken roast and fruits sat neatly arranged.

"Yeah," Alex replied, pushing off the table and walking over to sit on one of the worn chairs. "Figured you'd be hungry after pretending to sleep all evening."

"I wasn't pretending," she shot back, grabbing the blanket and wrapping it around her shoulders as she shuffled over to join him. "I was… resting."

"Sure," Alex said, his smirk widening as he tore off a piece of chicken and popped it into his mouth. "Resting with your eyes squeezed shut and your breathing all over the place. Very convincing."

Lyra gave him a sharp look but didn't argue further. Instead, she reached for the fruit, her fingers deftly peeling a glossy red apple. For a moment, the room was filled with the quiet sounds of eating, the tension between them easing into a comfortable silence.

Finally, Lyra spoke, her tone softer this time. "You were out late. Trouble?"

Alex glanced at her, noting the faint concern in her eyes despite her attempt to sound indifferent. He shook his head. "Not really. Just some small fry—razor hounds. Took down a Rank 2 for some extra coin."

"Oh," Lyra replied, her tone flat as she leaned back in the chair, brushing a lock of her hair behind her ear. "I suppose that's nothing impressive for someone like you." Her gaze flicked toward the bag of coins he set on the table, curiosity faintly tugging at her expression. "Though, I guess you didn't get yourself killed, so that's something."

Alex smirked faintly, leaning against the counter. "If I got myself killed, who would bring you all this luxury?" He gestured to the bag of roasted chicken and fruits he had placed neatly on the table. "You should be thanking me for keeping this house stocked."

Lyra huffed, crossing her arms with a mock regal air. "As if I need your charity. I could manage just fine without you, thank you very much."

"Right," Alex said, his smirk growing. "I'm sure you'd have a blast running the capital's outskirts without a single copper to your name. Maybe you could charm the market vendors with your… delightful personality?"

Her cheeks flushed slightly, and she shot him a glare. "I don't need your sarcasm. Besides, I wouldn't be living in this run-down shack if I didn't have to."

"Run-down?" Alex raised an eyebrow, looking around the small but tidy room. "I think you mean 'economical.' It has all the essentials. Roof, walls, and one overly dramatic princess."

Lyra rolled her eyes, a faint smile tugging at the corners of her lips despite herself. "Fine, Mr. Razor Hound Slayer. If you're done boasting, maybe we can eat before the food gets cold?"

Alex chuckled, pulling out a chair and sliding the food toward her. "For you, Your Highness, anything."

As Lyra took a bite of the chicken, Alex leaned back in his chair, his smirk fading slightly as his thoughts turned inward.

'She looks just like my dead little sister,' he mused, his gaze softening for a moment. The resemblance wasn't just in her face—it was in the way she carried herself, the mix of fiery independence and vulnerability. It stirred something deep within him, a mixture of protectiveness and regret that he couldn't quite shake.

But he wouldn't tell her that. No, Lyra would just use it as ammunition, another reason to lord over him with that sharp tongue of hers. And besides, he had his principles.

'Who in the hell gives everything for free?' he thought with a wry grin. 'If I did, she'd turn into an insufferable brat, more arrogant than she already is. And she doesn't even know that I am 12, she thinks I am the same age as her that is 16.'

That's why Lyra had her responsibilities. Cooking, cleaning, and keeping the house in order—it wasn't much, but it kept things balanced. It made her work for the small luxuries he brought home, like the roast chicken and fruits now spread on the table.

He watched her carefully, noting the way she instinctively took her portion and set aside what she thought was his share. For all her sarcasm and bravado, she wasn't selfish. Not really. Maybe that's what reminded him of his sister the most—that quiet care hidden beneath the tough exterior.

Lyra glanced up, catching him staring. "What?" she asked, her tone sharp, though her mouth was still full.

"Nothing," Alex replied smoothly, leaning forward and grabbing a piece of chicken. "Just wondering if I should start charging rent. This is practically a royal feast."

Lyra snorted, shaking her head. "You're so full of yourself. This 'feast' wouldn't even qualify as an appetizer in a proper palace."

"Good thing you're not in a palace then," Alex shot back, popping a grape into his mouth. "Unless you'd prefer to go find one and leave me in peace?"

She hesitated for a split second before retorting, "And let you live in filth without someone to keep this place habitable? No thanks. You'd be drowning in dirty laundry by the end of the week."

Alex chuckled, his earlier thoughts fading as the banter filled the room.