The hidden truth

The storm raged through the night, lashing at the farmhouse with relentless fury. The wind howled against the windows, and the rain hammered down in sheets, turning the fields outside into a soggy blur. Inside, the fire crackled softly, offering warmth and light as Jasmine, her father, and Caden sat in silence. It was an uneasy quiet, broken only by the occasional shifting of the wood in the hearth or the distant rumble of thunder.

Jasmine couldn't sleep. She sat near the fire, her eyes fixed on the flames as her thoughts swirled. Caden was in the back room, having settled in as soon as the storm began. Nathan had returned to his own room shortly after, but she knew her father wasn't asleep either. His distrust of Caden was palpable, and Jasmine could feel it weighing on the air between them.

She understood her father's wariness. The war had changed everyone, made trust a rare and dangerous thing. Strangers brought risk—whether deserters like Caden or soldiers on patrol, you could never be sure who carried betrayal in their hearts. But something about Caden didn't sit right with her. It wasn't his tired eyes or his desperate plea for shelter. It was something deeper, a nagging sense that he wasn't telling them the whole truth.

Jasmine stood up, pacing the small living area. Her bare feet made soft sounds on the wooden floor as she moved back and forth, trying to sort out her thoughts. What was Caden running from? Yes, he had said he was a deserter, but there had to be more to his story. The way he had spoken earlier, the guarded way he carried himself, it all hinted at secrets hidden beneath the surface.

Her curiosity grew stronger with each passing moment. She couldn't ignore the questions gnawing at her mind. With a glance toward her father's closed door, she made up her mind. Quietly, Jasmine crossed the room to the back hallway, where Caden was sleeping. She hesitated for a moment outside his door, her hand hovering over the doorknob. She knew it was wrong to pry, but she couldn't shake the feeling that something was off.

Taking a deep breath, she turned the knob and pushed the door open slightly. The hinges creaked softly, but the sound was swallowed by the storm. Caden was lying on the small cot, his back to the door, the blanket pulled over his shoulders. His breathing was slow and steady, and Jasmine could tell he was deeply asleep. She stepped inside, her heart pounding in her chest.

The dim light from the hallway barely illuminated the room, but it was enough for her to spot his belongings—the small satchel and the sword he had brought with him. Her eyes lingered on the sword for a moment. It was finely made, the hilt engraved with intricate patterns that caught the light. It wasn't the kind of weapon an ordinary soldier would carry.

Carefully, Jasmine knelt beside the satchel, her hands trembling as she reached for it. She knew she was invading his privacy, but she couldn't stop herself. There were answers here, she was sure of it.

She unbuckled the satchel's flap and pulled it open, her fingers brushing against the contents inside. At first, it seemed like nothing more than the usual belongings of a traveler—a few scraps of food, a water pouch, and a roll of cloth. But as she dug deeper, her fingers touched something solid, something hidden beneath the layers of fabric.

She pulled it out slowly, her breath catching as she realized what it was—a folded piece of parchment, sealed with a dark red wax. The symbol on the wax was unfamiliar to her, but it looked official, almost regal. She stared at it for a moment, her mind racing. What was Caden doing with such a letter? And why had he hidden it at the bottom of his bag?

Her fingers itched to break the seal, to open the letter and read whatever secrets it held. But before she could make up her mind, the sound of shifting on the cot made her freeze. Caden stirred, turning in his sleep, and Jasmine's heart leaped into her throat.

She quickly stuffed the letter back into the satchel and closed it, standing up in a rush. She had to leave before he woke up. Her pulse pounded in her ears as she hurried out of the room, closing the door behind her as silently as she could. She leaned against the wall outside, her chest heaving with shallow breaths. Her hands were still trembling.

What had she just uncovered?

Jasmine's mind raced as she returned to the main room and sat down by the fire again. The storm continued to rage outside, but her thoughts were louder than the wind and rain. The letter—it had to be important. Deserters didn't carry official documents with royal seals. Was Caden running from something more than the war? Was he hiding something far bigger than desertion?

Her stomach twisted as the weight of the secret settled over her. If her father found out, if the wrong people discovered what she knew, they could all be in danger. And yet, she couldn't deny the pull of her curiosity. What was in that letter? What was Caden hiding?

Hours passed, and the storm outside began to die down. The rain softened, and the thunder moved further away, leaving behind only the faintest rumbles in the distance. But inside the farmhouse, the tension remained thick.

When Caden emerged from the back room, his face was drawn and tired, though he offered a nod of thanks to Nathan as he warmed himself by the hearth. Jasmine watched him closely, her eyes darting to the satchel that rested near the door. He gave no indication that he knew she had been in his room, that she had touched his belongings.

But as the morning light began to break through the clouds, Jasmine couldn't help but feel as though the hidden truth she had discovered was only the beginning. The storm outside may have passed, but a far greater one was brewing inside their home.

And now, Jasmine was caught in its center.