Your little cottage, consisting of a bedroom and this room, already appeared different from the outside due to the bright fabric.
Her bedroom was furnished very comfortably. Directly against the wall under the window was a soft bed, quite different from the cots on which her students and even Ero had to rest. Above it, some weavings of dried flowers were attached.
To the left and right of the bed, a shelf extended up to the ceiling. Triangular, it nestled in and offered some space. Sculptures as well as dolls were arranged here. Given in gratitude.
Directly opposite the bed, a long line of chests and cabinets stretched along. Space for all her clothes, even though their number had been dwindling lately. It closed completely with the door that led here along the wall to the other room.
Next to it, but still in the bedroom, a magnificent and large mirror was placed.
This almost overwhelmed the small room, quite unlike the larger, second room.
In the corner, opposite the entrance door, the cast-iron tub awaited her. The wall behind it extended in a dreary gray, without windows. In the cooler seasons, a crackling fire burned in the fireplace there, where now only emptiness prevailed. In the evenings, she lit her two candlesticks to the right and left of it.
Just like in the adjacent room, there were chests and cabinets here. Not as pressing as there, rather sparse. Just before the exit stood a table and several chairs.
Actually, Alina hadn't even thought about decorating it, but now a garland stretched across the tablecloth. Large summer flowers emitted a gentle sweetness in the room, like a delicate welcome kiss.
Exactly as a lush bouquet of flowers bloomed on the stool next to her bathtub.
Who could this angel be who spoiled her with this gift?
Eros's father, Beldor, often sent her gifts, just as he was the one who had once furnished her room. After all, the future fiancée should have everything she needed. In contrast to his own son, who shared a room with a few other students.
Or was it Delio who prepared this gift for her?
First, she slipped out of Eros's shirt. She let it fall onto one of the chairs. Next, the dress. Or rather the blood-soaked fabric that she still wore. Her last beautiful dress simply remained lying on the floor. Later, she would get rid of it.
She might be a young woman, with needle and thread, or whatever adventurous materials it took to restore this dress, she couldn't handle it. Alina only knew the struggle with the sword or her daggers.
Only Marno remained for her, no woman in her life.
For a moment, her body brushed against the mirror. Alina didn't look, but she knew what the image would show.
A girl as beautiful as the morning. With velvety skin spared from any scar. No one saw her as a serious threat, a mistake.
Her movements were swift, her delicate hands had taken many lives.
Now she opened the wreath of hair around her head, letting the curls fall into a mane, unrestrained and wild on her shoulders. The color of wild honey, which she often adorned with flowers.
The face with delicate contours now appeared to her more often in the mirror, she could glimpse her mother. Yet she didn't even know if she was just deceiving herself or if she really resembled her mother. The one who always smiled in her memories, even though she had found such an early death.
Alina knew nothing of her father, just as she couldn't remember her mother's voice or what kind of person she was.
All that was behind her for so many years. She was still very young when she came to Marno.
Sure, he could have let go of this burden, they both knew that. And yet he couldn't separate himself from the girl. Just as she was happy to call him father.
Marno loved her as his own child, and he would accompany her to the altar and beyond, just as he wished.
Yet she couldn't bring herself to leave him or the school.
Alina stepped into the tub. The cool water played around her body with small waves as she submerged into its coolness. A moment later, her head surfaced again. A groan escaped her throat.
Alina closed her eyes, savoring the moment.