After being ushered out of the kitchen by Isa, Siduri and Layla made their way to the dining room. As they entered, sunlight streamed in through the slats in the window shutters, casting beams of soft morning light across the room. The tables sat empty; it was still a bit early for the morning rush of customers. At this hour, only the early risers—shopkeepers, farmers, and sailors—were typically awake, beginning their work at the rooster's crow.

Choosing a table near a window at the back of the tavern, the girls settled in and placed their platters on the table, preparing for their meal. While Siduri took her seat, Layla wasted no time. She glided over to the window and swung open the shutters, welcoming the flood of sunlight and the gentle spring breeze into the room. A pleased grin illuminated her face as she savored the refreshing air that caressed her skin, painting a gentle blush across her delicate skin.

Enticed by the aroma of the sea air, Siduri turned towards the window, drawn into the captivating scene unfolding before her. Layla stood as a silhouette against the morning glow, her ginger hair catching a delightful sheen as it swayed in the breeze. Beyond, the harbor provided a picturesque backdrop, its waters shimmering in the early light. The morning gulls cast fleeting shadows against the azure sky as they circled above the docks, swooping to snatch fish from the morning's catch aboard the sailors' vessels. They served as joyful heralds of the dawn, their persistent calls echoing throughout the town.

"Isn't it wonderful, Sid?" Layla whispered, enchanted by the breathtaking view. "The start of a new day, the world's born anew."

Eagerly, she leaned forward, hanging her upper body out the window. "No matter how difficult life gets, I'll never tire of moments like this," she shouted cheerfully. The breeze seemed to agree, swirling around her and tousling her hair like a loving parent.

With a bright smile, Layla pulled herself back inside the tavern. Turning to face Siduri with renewed confidence, she continued, "As long as the sun rises, there's always a chance for a new beginning, a fresh start. Our fates are never certain, Sid; so, have hope."

"My, aren't you chipper this morning, Ms. Layla?" A smooth, deep voice floated in from outside the window, breaking the serene moment. Startled, Layla spun around to see the visitor. He stood about half a head shorter than her but exuded a devilish handsomeness that always captured her attention.

He was neatly dressed in a dark, nicely fitting tunic that proudly displayed his sculpted physique, hard-earned from months of laboring in the fields. His pointed ears barely peeked out of his tousled raven-black hair, contrasting perfectly with his warm golden eyes. His well-groomed beard, tinged with gray, added a touch of refinement to his rugged jawline.

With a stalk of wheat held between his teeth, he flashed Layla a casual, confident smile that sent her heart aflutter, deepening the blush that had already colored her cheeks and causing it to extend down her neck. Suddenly, Layla's attention was inexplicably drawn to something in the distance, her gaze wandering anywhere but towards the man.

The man gave a helpless shrug, his tone playful and endearing. "Good morning to you too, Ms. Layla, and to you as well, Ms. Siduri. Any chance one of you lovely gals could open the tavern up a bit early for me? The smell from that kitchen could bring the gods to the table. A simple man like me is helpless against it, and I only have a short while before I have to get back to the fields."

Siduri watched Layla's antics with a barely contained chuckle. "I'll open the doors for you, Favner, but you'll have to convince Madame Isa to serve an early customer yourself."

Favner pulled out his pouch and shook it, the sound of coins rattled inside. "Oh, I can probably sway her," he declared confidently. "The Madame and I, we're birds of a feather. We speak the same language," he added, his grin widening as he spoke.

Siduri rolled her eyes at the man's antics. "Must be nice to be a landowner," she remarked dryly.

"My fields are constantly understaffed, and I'm busting my tail from sunup till sundown just to keep things afloat. Miss, the pay barely covers the sweat on my brow, and I wouldn't wish it on anyone," Favner sighed, exhaustion lacing his words.

"Speaking of the harvest, would your young lad be up for another stint in the fields? He was a godsend last fall, a real workhorse. His help would be a lifesaver for me if you could spare him."

He gave Siduri a respectful nod as he made the request.

Siduri's eyes widened, and her breath quickened as her emotions surged. She struggled to contain the flood of feelings rising within her, closing her eyes momentarily to compose herself. With some difficulty, she replied, "I... don't think he'll be able to help you this harvest, Favner. I apologize, but my answer has to be no."

Favner looked perplexed. "Miss, if it's a matter of money, I'll compensate you both fairly, I assure you..."

Siduri felt suffocated, her emotions weighing on her heart. Her chest tightened, each breath coming in short gasps as she drowned in her sorrow. Finally, unable to contain it any longer, she snapped, "Not all problems can be solved with money!" Her voice echoed in the room, filled with frustration and anguish.

As soon as the shout left her lips, she regretted it. A sense of helplessness engulfed her; she felt utterly out of control. What options did she have? What could anyone do in such a situation? Why was she so useless? Tears pricked at her eyes as she acknowledged how foolish she must sound. With a tremor in her voice, she spoke again, regret and sadness coloring her tone. "If I could solve the problem with money, I would have done it already, even if I had to sell myself to do it," she said pitifully.

Favner was caught off guard by Siduri's sudden outburst. As he hesitated, unsure how to respond, Layla sprang to her feet like a protective mother hen. The flush on her cheeks was no longer a blush of ardor but one fueled by anger. With a gentle yet firm gesture, Layla wrapped Siduri in a comforting embrace, shielding her from the emotional storm.

Casting a stern, accusatory gaze at Favner, her eyes brimming with hostility, Layla shook her head decisively, a silent warning that he should refrain from pursuing the topic any further or face consequences. The tension in the room was palpable as Layla's actions spoke volumes of the situation.

Favner's brow furrowed in confusion, a hint of concern flickering across his features as he contemplated the mess he found himself in. He paused, carefully choosing his words, aware of the delicate balance he now navigated. Then, with a tentative smile, he offered, "Well, I hate to see a beautiful woman in distress."

Glancing at their reactions, he gauged the atmosphere, hoping he hadn't worsened matters. Finding no immediate hostility, he pressed on, "Ladies, if money can't solve the issue," he tilted his head to meet Siduri's sorrowful gaze, his expression empathetic, "Would you mind telling me what might be useful? I don't have much, but if there's a chance I could be of help, I'd appreciate the opportunity to try."

Summoning her courage, Siduri stepped forward to address the man. Layla reached out to stop her, hoping to ease the tension, but Siduri shot her a reassuring look. Favner deserved an explanation after her earlier outburst. Despite her rudeness, he hadn't lashed out; instead, he offered his help patiently. Siduri knew she owed him some form of an account for her actions. She could do at least that much.

"There's nothing you can do unless you can heal the legs of a cripple," she said, wincing as her words came out harsher than she intended.

Favner fell silent, his fingers thoughtfully tracing the contours of his beard. "The boy's legs have been crippled? How did that... I suppose that question doesn't matter much now," he mused, pausing to reconsider. "Are you certain his legs are beyond repair? Has he been examined by Healer Nan? Perhaps there's still hope."

"Of course, she was the one who made the diagnosis. She said there's nothing she could do…" Siduri's voice grew hoarse, and Layla looked at her with deep concern, tempted to step in and end the conversation once and for all.

Favner sighed heavily, his expression burdened as if grappling with a difficult decision. The notion of witnessing a child suffer was intolerable to him. His conscience couldn't bear it, and his pride wouldn't permit it. However, the only resource he possessed that might help the boy's situation could make things worse. He wrestled with this dilemma until a realization struck him: let the boy decide. It was his life. He should make his own choices and bear the consequences. "Well, I would never dare to claim I'm more capable than Healer Nan…"

"I understand, and I appreciate your kindness." Siduri nodded gratefully to the man, sparing him the embarrassment of admitting he was powerless to help. "It's alright; we will manage with the..."

"I wasn't finished," Favner interjected. "I would never dare to say I'm more capable than Healer Nan, but Miss Siduri, while I'm no elf, I am still one of the fae. We, dwarves, may not have the knack for the healing arts like the elves, but we still have our methods, many of which are quite different from the ones you humans use. There's a possibility—I can't guarantee any success. But I may have a way, and some hope is better than none, right? After I get some breakfast, if you could take me to the boy, I'll be able to give you an answer with more certainty. But for now, would you mind letting me into the dining hall so I could get a bite to eat?"