A Good Man Awakens

Chapter 19: Market

Chapter 19: Sophia's Care & Market Trouble:

The days had shortened, and the crisp bite of autumn had settled over the farm. Leaves, tinged with gold and amber, tumbled from the trees, gathering in quiet corners of the yard. The sun, already dipping low by late afternoon, cast long shadows through the windows of the farmhouse, but the air had turned cool and sharp. I had been in bed since the beating, and though the worst of the bruises had faded, the ache lingered.

I shifted under the covers, wincing as a sharp pain shot through my ribs. My body still protested with every movement, reminding me of the price I'd paid for standing up to Grayden. The farmhouse had become a cocoon of sorts over the last few weeks, though the quiet had been unsettling. Sophia's visits were the only thing breaking the solitude, and even those were few and far between.

The door creaked open, and Sophia entered, carrying a bowl of fresh water and a cloth. The cool air rushed in with her, and I could see a flush of color in her cheeks from the chill outside. She set the bowl down beside me, her brow furrowed slightly as she dipped the cloth into the water.

"You don't have to do this, you know," I said, my voice hoarse from disuse. "I'll heal on my own."

She shot me a look—half amusement, half frustration, the kind that always made me feel like I was missing something obvious. "Don't be foolish," she muttered, wringing out the cloth before pressing it gently against a tender bruise on my cheek. "You've been in this bed for a month. The least I can do is help you heal."

Her touch was careful, but the tension in her movements betrayed how much the enforcers' visit had impacted her. The way she pressed her lips together, the way her eyes darted away from mine—it was clear she was holding back more than just her words. She worked in silence for a few minutes, dabbing at the fading bruises, but I could feel the silence in the air between us, like an uncomfortable harness, removing it would make you fall.

Finally, she spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. "I hate them. Every time the Veilguard comes, it feels like the air gets colder, like they're stealing something from us just by being here." Her hand trembled slightly as she pressed the cloth to my shoulder, and I winced, but the pain didn't bother me as much as her words.

I had seen Sophia always with a brave face, always smiling and enjoying life, but this... this fear in her voice—it unsettled me more than I expected. I had faced far worse in my old life, but seeing how the Ministry had cowed even the strong, like her, reminded me of how deep their control ran.

"They're not invincible," I whispered, hoping to offer her some comfort. "Men like Grayden... they thrive on fear. But they're still just men."

She shook her head; her gaze hardening. "No, they're not just men. The Ministry's grip on this land is suffocating. They take and take, and no one stands up to them. No one but Uncle Jacob." Her voice softened when she mentioned her uncle, and I could see the gratitude in her eyes. "He's always been the only one keeping them at bay. Without him..."

She trailed off, staring into the bowl of water as if she could see something there that wasn't. Her fingers still trembled slightly, and for the first time, I truly understood just how much she depended on Jacob's protection. I'd always known Jacob was strong, a man of influence, but to Sophia, he was the last line between them and a world she feared.

"Jacob's a good man," I said, shifting slightly as the aches in my body flared up.

"But so are you, Ragan," she said, her voice quieter now. "What you did... standing up to Grayden like that—it meant something. It showed me that there are still people willing to fight back, even when the odds are against them."