Sarah breathed a sigh of relief as the fire in Henry’s ash-gray eyes began to subside. Grateful for the small reprieve, she noted how he redirected the gun away from her.
“I promise that I’ll help you to go back.” Sarah’s words, laden with promises, caught Henry’s attention, demanding an explanation.
“How exactly are you planning to do that?”
Before Sarah could unveil her plan, their conversation was interrupted by the unmistakable sound of a grumbling stomach. Henry cursed himself in shame, grappling with vulnerability in the presence of a Colsarian citizen. The desire to shoot himself for appearing weak in front of the enemy surged within him.
“Maybe you should eat first,” Sarah suggested, suppressing a grin to avoid provoking the ire of a weary, hungry, and possibly angry enemy soldier. She set the table, and Henry, reluctantly, followed suit. As he sat down, the aroma of the porridge wafting through the air lifted his appetite. It smelled far more delectable than the military rations he was accustomed to.
Seated across from him, Sarah’s gaze remained fixed on him, awaiting his verdict on her culinary creation. Yet, despite confirming that the woman posed no immediate threat, Henry couldn’t shake the lingering suspicion of hidden agendas. What if she had poisoned the meal? The most angelic faces, he mused, could conceal monstrous demons.
Sensing Henry’s hesitation, Sarah took a spoon for herself, scooped a portion of porridge into his bowl, and tasted it. “It’s safe….and delicious too, don’t worry.”
Henry’s shoulders sagged in relief, though he couldn’t shake a sense of unease at the woman’s perceptiveness. Perhaps he was too easy to read, his expressions betraying more than he intended. Yet, his comrades often claimed they couldn’t discern his feelings, as he typically wore a stoic expression.
As Henry began to eat, the meal surpassed any expectations not that he has any. “So, how was it?” Sarah eyed him with anticipation.
“Edible.” Henry’s response, a deliberate understatement, masked the undeniable delight he experienced with each flavorful bite. He wouldn’t let himself praise someone from an enemy country.
“I see,” Sarah replied, a glint of disbelief in her eyes. She could see the spark in his gaze on the first bite, akin to the delight that radiated from Daisy when she tasted her first successful cooking.
“So, how are you getting me out of here?” Henry inquired, his tone grave. It was time to direct their focus to the most pressing matter at hand—his imminent escape from Colsary.
Henry couldn’t afford to linger any longer in this foreign land, especially considering his predicament. The storm, while posing challenges to escape, also offered a unique advantage—the absence of Colsarian guards at the border.
“I want you to listen to me first without reacting, will you?” Sarah requested, her voice adopting a seriousness that indicated the gravity of her plan. Henry, understanding the importance of her words, nodded in agreement.
“You stay here in Colsary for a while.”
“What?!” Henry’s incredulous response betrayed his confusion and frustration. What kind of plan was this? She had promised to help him escape, and now she was suggesting he stay?
“Hey, you promised not to react, didn’t you? Let me finish,” she scolded him, prompting him to lean back in his chair, begrudgingly allowing her to continue.
“So here’s why you need to stay,” Sarah explained, maintaining a serious tone. “Due to the strong storm, all the roads are blocked with fallen trees, making it difficult to travel back to the border. Additionally, the news mentioned that more guards have been deployed to the border fence because of you. They’re undoubtedly out to get you if you approach the border.”
“So how, then?” Henry impatiently interjected, earning a glare from Sarah for interrupting once more.
“You will board a ship to a third country.”
Intrigued by the unexpected twist in her plan, Henry leaned forward, prompting Sarah to reveal more details.
“A ship? To what country?”
“Viscardia. The ports have just opened from Colsary to Viscardia. On your way to Viscardia, you can flag another ship or a plane back to Consehannon. It’s a much safer and less suspicious escape, isn’t it?”
Henry contemplated Sarah’s plan. It seemed plausible. Boarding a ship would allow him to assume the guise of a foreigner returning to his country after a short trip in Colsary. The storm had concealed his face the previous night, covered in mud as he was, preventing anyone from identifying him as the military defector they were hunting.
Yes, it could work.
“Can you help me get on that ship the moment this storm passes?”
Sarah averted her eyes, and Henry anticipated the unspoken answer—no, she couldn’t.
“Before you argue with me, let me tell you why,” she began, noting his inclination to refute. “You’re still injured. Don’t you think they’ll find your injuries suspicious?”
Examining himself, Henry acknowledged her point. There was no plausible explanation for the sorry state of his injuries.
“And this town is far from the port. It will take us days to get there, and we need enough money for transportation and the ship fare. I believe you haven’t brought any money with you, did you?”
Henry sighed, shaking his head.
“I’m just a seamstress, and my income is barely enough to support my family. But as long as we save enough money for your escape, I will help you get to the port. That’s a promise.”
Sarah maintained her gaze on Henry’s, assuring him of her sincerity. He seemed to believe her, turning his eyes away and nodding in reluctant acceptance.
“Fine,” Henry relented. “Is your husband okay with this arrangement you thought?”
“I have no husband. It’s just me and my daughter.”
“Oh.” Henry’s realization sank in—her husband must have passed away. “You know, you could be in danger for helping me.”
Henry wanted to emphasize the risks involved. If she were putting her life on the line, he wouldn’t accept blame for any consequences that might arise.
“I know,” Sarah replied. “But I believe you would protect me as I promised to protect you. We’re technically partners in crime now.”
Henry felt a twinge of discomfort in the trust reflected in her gaze. How could she be so confident that he would uphold his end of the bargain? They were enemies, and she was far too kind, too trusting. Yet, she displayed an intelligence and intuition that exceeded his expectations. She was beyond anything he could comprehend.
Henry faced the possibility of an extended stay in his most dreaded place. However, he found assurance from someone who provided him with a potential way out. Even if she didn’t end up assisting him to the very end, he now had an escape plan.
He contemplated finding a way to execute her suggestion without involving her directly. Despite her promise, he didn’t want to remain indebted to her any longer. Being indebted to anyone, especially someone still considered an enemy, didn’t sit well with him.
Henry racked his brain for ways to gather the money needed for the fare. Perhaps he could sell his watch at a pawnshop. Would that be enough?
“Since you’re staying here for the meantime, you need to have some sort of cover. I can’t hide you inside forever,” Sarah’s words redirected his attention. “We can’t have my neighbors be suspicious of us.”
Agreeing with her practical assessment, Henry understood the potential risks of standing out in this Colsarian community, even if this woman didn’t intend to turn him in.
“So, I suggest that you pretend to be my husband.”
He turned to her, his eyes widening in surprise. “Your husband?”
“Yes.”
“Can’t you think of any other excuse?”
“This is the most plausible I can think of,” Sarah lied, having planned for him to go along with this cover from the very beginning. Her intention was to help him hide from the authorities and escape while he, in turn, could assist her in deterring her persistent suitor. “Besides, I already told my daughter that you’re her father.”
Initially, Henry wanted to argue against the cover she had decided, but he changed his mind, realizing it was too late. The narrative was already set, and upon reflection, it did seem more believable.
“I don’t need to act or anything, right?” Henry sought confirmation, and Sarah nodded.
“You just need to be here and be seen with us, that’s all.”
“Okay.”
“What was your name, by the way? It starts with an H, right? I saw it on your uniform.”
“Henry, Henry Isenberg.”
Sarah smiled, the soft light illuminating the kitchen etching warmth upon her features. “I’m Sarah Prescott.” She extended her hand to him. “So, do we have a deal, Mr. Isenberg?”
Henry shook Sarah’s extended hand. He hoped that his decision to trust her wouldn’t become a source of regret in the future.