Hana looked at her and asked her something in Cirencester's language, which I didn't understand.

Anya lowered her gaze. "My home used to be here in Trestlewood.”

In that instant, Anya's face darkened. I looked to Hana, who translated their conversation for me.

I gently patted Anya's hand and said, "I'm sorry."

Though Anya shook her head, her emotions seemed affected. She spoke softly and rapidly.

Hana translated swiftly, relaying Anya's words almost as soon as she spoke them.

"She says, ‘My family used to live in this city, and my parents ran a small business. My mother sold souvenirs and other items, while my father sold amulets. Though the business was small, we lived comfortably. My father loved us and often took us on outings.'"

I kept my eyes on Anya's beautiful, innocent face, now tinged with a hint of sorrow.

Anya's recounting seemed somewhat pitiful, and she was completely immersed in her memories. Her ability to recall everything from her childhood made me envious, as