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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THE MARKET
“Sometimes the smallest things take up the most room in your heart.” — Winnie the Pooh
The market buzzed with life, the cold air filled with the scent of fresh bread and spices and the faint aroma of roasted chestnuts.
Esmé walked at a steady pace, her basket in hand, occasionally stopping to inspect the produce or exchange a few polite words with the vendors.
Eiser strode beside her; his tall frame and sharp features were impossible to miss. His long coat swept behind him with each step, and the air around him seemed to command attention.
It didn’t take long for the townsfolk to notice them. Heads turned, whispers followed in their wake, and some even exchanged knowing glances.
Esmé felt their stares almost immediately. She tightened her grip on the basket, her cheeks flushing.
It wasn't every day someone like Eiser, dressed as sharply as ever and exuding an undeniable authority, walked through their town market.
She glanced at him, half expecting him to grumble about the unwanted attention.
But Eiser seemed unbothered, his expression calm, even slightly amused.
If anything, he looked as if he belonged here, as if the gazes were a natural acknowledgement of his presence.
Esmé sighed, suddenly recalling that she’d brought him along.
Of course, they would stare. He’s a Volkov, she thought. Not just any Volkov—one of the sons of the family that essentially controlled this town. How could she have forgotten?
“Are they always like this?” Esmé murmured, keeping her voice low as they walked past a stall selling winter vegetables.
Eiser’s lips twitched into a faint smirk, his eyes scanning the crowd with the practised ease of someone used to being observed. “People tend to stare when power walks by,” he said casually.
Esmé rolled her eyes, though she couldn’t help the small smile tugging at her lips. “Power, huh? And here I thought you were just my helper today.”
His gaze finally shifted to her. “Perhaps both.”
She shook her head, trying to ignore the growing murmur among the townsfolk.
Despite the attention, she carried on, stopping at another stall to inspect some herbs.
“You don’t seem bothered,” she noted, tossing him a glance.
“Should I be?” he asked, his tone laced with amusement. “This is my town, Esmé. Let them look. I’ve been meaning to show my face here for a while anyway.”
Esmé paused, her fingers brushing over a sprig of rosemary as she stared at him. “So, this is about making a statement?”
Eiser leaned slightly closer, lowering his voice just enough for her to hear. “Maybe. Or maybe it’s about letting them see that the Volkovs protect what’s theirs.”
