CHAPTER 65: HOLD ON!

Ester watched for a few more seconds as the red-haired girl gesticulated and shouted as if the whole world were her stage. The soldier, already nearly melting from the effort, tried to lift the broken wheel, but couldn’t even budge it.

Damon’s silence beside her was more expressive than words.

"Let’s ignore them," Ester said firmly, as if giving a final order. "People like that irritate me."

Damon arched an eyebrow, but nodded without resistance.

"I agree. The longer we stand still, the more likely she’ll notice we’re here... and start yelling at us." He gave a wry smile. "And I’ve killed more tolerable bandits than that little brat."

Ester didn’t laugh. She just turned her face forward, pulling on the reins.

"Then let’s go."

With a slight movement of her legs, Ester’s chestnut horse resumed its pace. Damon did the same, reining in the black horse, which snorted impatiently, as if it too had no patience for the human spectacle ahead. The two of them advanced along the narrow road, skirting the damaged carriage.

The clatter of hooves on the snow drew immediate attention.

"Hey!" the girl’s shrill voice echoed, cutting through the cold air.

Damon closed his eyes for a moment. "There it is..." he thought.

"YOU!" she shouted, pointing with her leather glove, her red hair bouncing. "Stop right there!"

Ester continued forward, impassive, as if her voice were merely the wind. Damon, on the other hand, glanced sideways, meeting the young woman’s furious gaze.

"Are you ignoring me?!" The girl nearly gasped with indignation.

The soldier beside her raised his hands nervously.

"Miss, please don’t make a fuss... they look like dangerous travelers..."

"Dangerous?" she huffed, her face flushed with anger and cold. "GREAT! Then they must be strong! You two!" she shouted to Damon and Ester, who were almost past the carriage. "Stop and help! My wheel broke!"

Damon glanced at Ester. She sighed irritably, without even turning her head.

"Keep moving," she muttered.

Damon stifled a laugh.

"It’s going to be difficult, she screams as if the whole world were deaf."

"I CAN HEAR!" the redhead yelled, as if he’d spoken to her.

Damon rolled his eyes.

The soldier, desperate, ran a few steps to the middle of the road and bowed hurriedly, clearly embarrassed by the scene.

"Travelers, forgive my lady... the wheel broke on the ice, and we’re stuck here." If you can, any help would be welcome...

The redhead lifted her chin, interrupting:

"Not ’any help.’ I DEMAND you help me. You two there, with those serious faces... do something!"

Damon’s black horse snorted, scraping its hoof in the snow, as if sensing the provocation. Damon ran a hand through his mane, trying to contain the laughter that was rising again.

"Ester..." he murmured. "If we ignore her any longer, she’ll start screaming until the wolves show up."

Ester finally stopped the horse, slowly and reluctantly. She turned her head and stared at the scene with cold eyes.

The girl, in turn, gave a victorious smile, thinking she had won.

"Finally! I thought you were deaf. Now, get the wheel moving. My time is precious!"

Damon raised an eyebrow, looking at Ester as if to ask: Do you want me to shut her up, or do you?

Ester simply sighed again, that heavy sigh that always came before her patience ran out.

"I already hate that girl," she said dryly.

Damon couldn’t help it. He chuckled, tilting his head.

"Welcome to the club."

The red-haired girl was still shouting as if she were commanding an invisible battalion.

"Come on, hurry up! Time is running out! If you have arms, use them for something useful!"

The soldier beside her no longer knew where to hide his face. He mumbled apologies as the young woman continued to order strangers around as if she were a queen.

Ester, on the chestnut horse, remained motionless. But Damon noticed—for the first time since he’d met her—a spark of real irritation in her gaze. Not the usual cold, not the distant contempt. It was something more visceral, more dangerous.

Then she jerked sharply on the reins, dismounting in a single, fluid movement.

The dark coat opened slightly, releasing the white vapor that condensed in the air. It wasn’t just the cold of the room—it was the cold coming from her. From Ester’s mouth, icy breath could already be seen billowing in clouds. Her face was rigid, and each step toward the carriage seemed to drop the temperature by a degree.

The redhead noticed nothing, still drowning in her own ego.

"That’s it! Come here! Finally, someone with a modicum of common sense. Get this wheel moving, you incompetents!"

The soldier’s eyes widened. He noticed. He felt the chill in the air, the way the ground creaked slightly beneath Ester’s boots, as if a thin layer of ice was forming with each step.

Damon saw it all in slow motion. He knew that if he let her, Ester would do something that would end very badly—perhaps even kill the girl and the guard out of sheer impatience.

On impulse, he dismounted from the horse as well. In two steps, he reached Ester and, without thinking twice, wrapped his arms around her, pulling her against his chest.

"Enough, Ester," he murmured firmly. "Contain yourself."

She froze. Literally and figuratively.

Shock coursed through her, her eyes widening. She turned her face to the side, flushed—not with anger, but with embarrassment.

"Wh... what do you think you’re doing?!" Her voice wavered, something unusual for her.

Damon, holding her tightly, brought his mouth to her ear.

"Keeping you from killing a brat and her guard," he replied bluntly. "The air around you is already freezing, and your mouth..." He took a deep breath. "You’re completely white, Ester. You feel like you’re going to release a blast of ice at any second."

Ester blinked in surprise. Involuntarily, she brought her hand to her lips. They were stone cold, coated with a light layer of frost.

She jerked away from the embrace, her face burning—a stark contrast to the cold emanating from her.

"I... I wasn’t going to do anything!" she said, her voice louder than usual, defensive.

Damon raised his eyebrows in disbelief.

"Of course not. I was just about to turn a fifteen-year-old girl into an ice statue, right?"

Ester looked away, her blush still evident. She clutched her gloves, trying to regain her composure.

"You meddle too much."

"And you lose your temper too much," he retorted, but his tone wasn’t aggressive. It was almost... provocative.

For a second, they stared at each other. The silence between them seemed even heavier than the redhead’s screams. Damon noticed the blush lingering on Ester’s cheeks, so unusual for this woman who seemed made of ice.

She finally took a deep breath, and the white mist subsided.

"I didn’t need your help," he murmured softly, barely audible.

Damon gave a half-smile.

"I know. But you needed someone to remind you not to kill spoiled children."

Behind them, the grotesque scene continued.

"What are you whispering about there?!" the red-haired girl shouted impatiently. "It’s enough that you’re ignoring my orders, now you’re going to flirt in the middle of the road?!"