As the night crept on, the once-busy street finally began to quiet down. Vendors packed up their stalls, the laughter of the crowd faded, and only a few late-night wanderers remained.
Even then, Primrose didn't want to return to the inn yet.
Instead, she sat quietly on a bench by the side of the road with Edmund.
The food they'd bought earlier was long gone, leaving her to sit in silence, nervously twirling her fingers in her lap.
Her body was clearly tired, and her legs ached whenever she tried to walk.
Yet, she still insisted on staying there.
What was meant to be a short evening stroll had turned into a walk that stretched nearly to midnight.
"Wife, it's getting cold," Edmund said softly, gently wrapping his hands around hers to warm them. "Let's go back to the inn."
Primrose tried her best not to shiver, but the chill had already sunk into her bones.
