LONELY HEARTS
Esmé's life takes a dramatic turn when she becomes entwined with Eiser, a son from a powerful family. Haunted by loss and trapped in a loveless marriage, she battles to connect with a man who conceals his emotions behind a wall of sile...
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WHERE THE HEART WANDERS
"Not all those who wander are lost." - J.R.R. Tolkien
The morning sun, pale and diffused through the wintry clouds, bathed the village in a gentle glow.
Esmé, wrapped in her thick coat and scarf, walked down the snowy path toward Mary's house.
The crunch of frost under her boots was the only sound in the serene stillness.
Mary's cottage, quaint and inviting, stood a few feet away. Esmé knocked lightly on the wooden door.
"Come in!" Mary's warm voice called from inside.
Esmé opened the door, stepping into the cosy warmth of the kitchen. The smell of bread baking in the oven greeted her, mingling with the faint aroma of herbs drying by the fireplace. Mary, her sleeves rolled up, was kneading dough on the kitchen counter.
"Esmé! What a lovely surprise. Come, warm yourself by the fire," Mary said, a welcoming smile on her face.
"I thought I'd stop by and see if you needed any help," Esmé said, unbuttoning her coat and hanging it near the door.
"Well, I won't say no to an extra pair of hands," Mary replied, laughing lightly. "I was just thinking about preparing some soup stock for the week. The vegetable garden could use some tending too, though there's not much to harvest this time of year."
Esmé's eyes lit up. "I'd love to help. If you don't mind, I could start with the garden while you finish here."
Mary glanced at her with an appreciative smile. "I'd be grateful. The winter frost can be tricky, but some root vegetables can still be dug up. I've got tools in the shed."
Bundling back up in her coat, Esmé ventured outside to the small vegetable patch behind Mary's house.
The snow crunched beneath her boots as she approached the patch, where protective coverings shielded the soil from the frost. Carefully, she pulled back the coverings, revealing frozen rows of carrots, parsnips, and leeks beneath the earth.
Grabbing a spade from the shed, she began digging gently, her breath misting in the crisp air.
Despite the cold, Esmé felt peace. Her cheeks flushed pink from the effort, and the rhythmic scrape of the spade against the ground was oddly soothing.
After some time, Mary appeared at the doorway with a steaming mug in her hands. "Come in for a break. I've made tea," she called.
Esmé straightened, brushing snow off her gloves. "Thank you. I'll bring these in," she said, holding up the vegetables she'd managed to unearth.
Inside, they sat at Mary's kitchen table, Esmé cradling the warm mug in her hands. "Thank you for letting me help. It feels good to keep busy," Esmé said softly, looking out the window at the snow-covered village.
