The name echoed in Lily's heart, though she hadn't spoken it aloud: Juliene.
"Is there something else I can do for you?" he asked again. The corners of his mouth drooped, and a puzzled line appeared between his brows.
She shook herself free from the pull of old memories. They'd come too fast, dragging her back into the past.
"I... I think I know you." She studied him for a moment. "Or maybe I'm wrong. But... are you... Juliene?"
"Yes… I’m Juliene." He leaned slightly to the side, brows knitting with curiosity. "How do you know my name? Have we… met before?"
Relief washed over her, but a strange ache followed. He didn't remember her. She nearly turned away. It would have been easier to act like a stranger, but she hoped he might, somehow, recognize her.
"My mother used to bring me here when I was a child... To this stall. She'd leave me behind the crates while she shopped. And there was a boy..." She looked at him. "You'd sit with me. Offer me dried fruit. A little flower, sometimes."
His face slowly lit up. "Lily?" he breathed. "Wait, Lily? The little girl with the giant boots?" A startled chuckle escaped him as his grin turned bright and boyish before he ducked his head in embarrassment. "You cried all the time and threw my raisins back at me like they were poison." He covered his mouth in disbelief. "My mother always said you hated those, but I brought them anyway."
A flicker of amusement crossed her lips. "That was me, the weepy one. And those boots were my mother's. She made me wear them. Said I'd grow into them."
He ran a hand nervously through his hair, making it even messier. "Wow, I can't believe it. You've changed so much. You're..." He paused as he really looked at her. The worn leather jerkin, the travel stains, and the sword at her hip, with its grip worn smooth, all bore the marks of years spent on the road. Even the way she stood balanced, ready to reach for her blade, spoke of her experience. "You look… strong now. Not like the scared little girl hiding behind crates. I mean that in a good way.”
The words touched her more than she expected. She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "Strong, hm? I suppose that's better than weepy. But I'll take it as a compliment."
"It is. Truly. You look like someone who’s lived… who’s fought… who’s experienced. It suits you."
"You've changed too," she tried to shift the topic. "You barely spoke back then. Just sat and smiled. Now look at you, chatting with customers like a real vendor." She gestured toward the stall. "And keeping this place going."
He nodded proudly. "After my parents passed, I took it over. This stall's been in our family for generations. I didn't change it much. Doesn't look as fancy as the new ones, but it works." He stopped and then added, "I heard the castle's combat instructor adopted you, Mr. Samuel Holloway, isn't it? My parents always wondered what became of you."
"Yeah. He took me in. Raised me. Trained me. We've been on the move for years, picking up odd jobs here and there," she paused, eyes falling. "Juliene... I wanted to apologize. For how I treated you back then. You were kind to me, and I didn't know how to react to that. I was angry. I pushed you away."
He offered a gentle look and brushed off her apology. "You were just a little kid going through a hard time. I never saw you as cruel. Just… sad. I think I understood that, even then."
His words eased a tension in her chest she hadn't known was there.
"Um, about your mother, I'm sorry. She used to stop by even after my parents passed, always checking on me. They were close, the three of them. She was a good woman... I was really sad when she was gone. Too soon."
Her gaze dropped to her boots before flicking back up to meet his eyes. "Yeah. That's why I came back. I didn't even know she had died until the letter arrived. I... needed to come home."
He gave a thoughtful tilt of his head. "I’m glad you did. Really. Solmyra feels… brighter, with you in it."
She shifted her weight, nudging the dusty ground with her boot. "Thanks.”
A quiet moment passed between them. It wasn't awkward, but full of something. Even after all these years, it felt like coming back to something unchanged.
Then Juliene's face lit up at a sudden idea. "Wait here."
He ducked behind the stall and came back with a cloth bag already half full. He added some fruits inside, plums and pears. "Here." He held it out. "My best stock. Take it with you… before you go."
"Not a chance. I'm paying this time. You gave me enough free snacks back then."
"You sure?" he flashed a quick grin. "Alright. Deal."
She dipped into her pouch and handed him a few silver coins. Their fingers brushed as he took them. He stashed them behind the stall without a word.
As she turned to leave, he called out to her again.
"Lily, wait."
She faced him. He was holding something in both hands.
"This one..." He stepped closer and placed a perfect red apple in her hand. "I saved this one for myself. It's my last apple of the day, but I want you to have it. I hope you still remember how sweet our apples are."
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
She started to reach for her purse, but he pushed it away.
"No, Lily. This one’s on me, just for you. A little welcome-home gift."
She looked down at the apple, then back at him.
The light in his eyes and the way he said her name sent a flutter through her chest. The feeling slipped away before she could savor it.
Her smile this time was wide and real. "Thank you, Juliene."
She left the market with warmth still glowing inside and rode Merry up the winding hill as the sun dipped low. Orange and red spilled across the sky. The steady clop of hooves sent golden dust swirling in the fading light. Her sword hung at her hip as always, but now it felt lighter, as if a burden had at last been lifted.
Her trip around Solmyra became more than just an errand. She found a new friend, met an old healer, and saw him, the man at the fruit stall. His forgiveness touched a part of her she thought was long buried.
As Merry reached the house, Lily swung down from the saddle and gave a sharp whistle. Almost immediately, Samuel appeared at the door, hammer in one hand, tool belt strapped tight around his waist.
"Hey, old man!" she tossed him a small wrapped bundle.
Samuel caught it with a grunt, arching a brow. "What's this?"
"Open it and see," she stepped inside with a calm smile he hadn't seen in a long time.
He followed her in, unwrapped the cloth to reveal a thick, finely stitched leather belt. His rough fingers traced the work with care. "This is fine craft, Lily. You didn't have to." Then, he observed her face. "You look... lighter. What happened?"
She rested her sword on its rack. "It was a good day. I made a new friend, Jane, one of the nurses at the healer's hall. She's friendly and lovely too. She showed me the way to Dr. Hart. You'll be glad to know he's still here, running the place."
"The old man's still working? He must be more stubborn than I am."
"We talked about Mother. A lot."
Samuel waited, sensing there was more.
"And..." Lily hesitated, then looked out the window toward the city. "I saw Juliene. Remember him? From the city market. The quiet boy at the fruit stall, the one who used to sit with me behind the crates where Mother always left me?"
He frowned, trying to think. "Juliene. The pale lad? Always looked like the wind would knock him over?"
She laughed. "That's him. He's still there, but he talks a lot now. Runs the stall well, too." She took a cloth bag of fruit from her satchel and set it on the table. "I bought these from him. All fresh. They're for you." Then she pulled a single red apple from her pouch and placed it on the kitchen counter, setting it apart from the rest. "This one's mine. Don't eat it. That one's... special."
He had already turned toward the hearth, frowning at a loose plank near the fireplace. He struck it hard and muttered to himself. "Hmm? What was that, Lily? Can't hear you over this blasted floorboard!"
"I said..." she shouted as she came down the stairs.
The plank gave a loud thunk as it dropped loose. Samuel caught only the tail end of her words.
"...going to take a long bath." And then her door clicked shut behind her.
"Alright!" he yelled back, already fiddling with the stubborn board, trying to nail it back on.
In her small, cool room, Lily let out a breath. The hush settled around her, slowing her heartbeat. She remembered Juliene's voice, awkward and gentle, and thought of his beautiful eyes and the apple waiting upstairs.
Later, after her long bath, she climbed the stairs feeling clean and light. The kitchen was filled with the aroma of a rich stew, made from meat and root vegetables that had been tenderized by hours of cooking. Her stomach growled loudly, echoing against the beams.
On the table sat a wooden bowl of sliced fresh fruits: plums, pears, all shining under the lamplight.
"Dinner's ready!" Samuel called from near the fireplace, still cleaning up the broken floorboard with a few tools at his side.
A bright look crossed Lily’s face as she came in. "That stew smells amazing. You always know what's best right after a hot bath."
He wiped his forehead with his arm. "About those fruits… they're really something. Sweetest I've had in years." He nodded toward the counter. "That apple you brought home? It was special. I ate half and saved the rest for you."
She paused halfway, her expression faltering. "The apple?" she asked, her eyebrows wrinkled. She moved towards the counter. Juliene's welcome gift lay there, sliced in half. One piece gone. "You mean this one?" Her tone sharpened as she picked it up.
He barely looked up. "Aye. Shame you only brought one. I'd eat more of it."
Her teeth clenched and her fists tightened. A red glow of anger burned under her eyelashes. "You ate it." Air scraped in and out of her throat. "Even when I told you not to. He gave it just for me, and you ate it." The growl in her throat sounded too deep for her.
The air in the kitchen grew heavy. A chill replaced the warmth, settling into the walls and floor. The silence felt sharp, as if the whole room was holding its breath.
Slowly, Samuel turned.
Her eyes were burning red now.
His hammer slipped from his hand with a dull clang. "No." His pulse raced. He had seen this before. The anger wasn't just hers. The shadow wanted out. Last time, it had nearly cost him. "Lily," he lifted both palms despite the fear in his belly. "I didn't know. I swear I did not hear you. You know I'd never take something meant for you on purpose."
She struggled to draw air, as if she were suffocating. Her eyes locked on the apple, unblinking, as shadows slipped from her skin, curling like smoke and creeping around her. They wrapped her shoulders and coiled along her arms, shifting with every tremor, as if her anger had taken shape. This was the curse she’d carried since childhood, an unpredictable force tied to her emotions.
The air turned icy against Samuel's skin, as if death had entered the room. He stepped back and grabbed the nearest chair, holding it between them as a shield, not a weapon. "I'll go back tomorrow," he stammered. "I'll talk to that boy, Juliene, right?"
At Juliene's name, something shifted. The glow and the shadows faltered.
Juliene. Warm. Steady. Peaceful.
He went on, "I'll buy you a whole basket of apples. Even a cartful. Please, just breathe. Remember what we practiced. Breathe in and out, Lily. In and out."
Her shoulders slumped. Her hands relaxed. The fierce glow faded from her eyes.
He exhaled slowly and set the chair down gently, watching her carefully. "He's still there, right? Juliene. We can go together, if you want."
She stared at him for a long moment. Then her features twisted, not with anger, but with shame. "Oh, Dad..." Her shoulders sagged with regret. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to lose it."
He shook his head. "I should've listened better," he exhaled. "But this time, you came back faster. That's good. That's really good progress."
She weakly nodded. "Forget about the apple." She bent to pick up the fallen chair and set it up right before sitting down.
He sat across from her with a relieved sigh, rubbing his brow. He had truly thought he might not survive her shifting, that her anger would cut him down before he could even breathe.
They sat in silence, stew hot and rich, fire burning softly in the hearth. Samuel's thoughts wandered. He'd always known Lily's temper, all the effort it took to teach her control. Years of patience had steadied her. Tonight was different. She'd been calm for days, then everything snapped, all at once, all over an apple.
No—over what it had come to symbolize, perhaps.
Juliene, he thought. There's something about that boy.
So… what do you think be the reason why Lily go full shadow mode over ONE apple? 🍎
