Back at the village, the modest kitchen glowed with warm light as Matilda and Zafron sat at a small table, their plates laden with rice and steak. Matilda, dressed in a short, casual gown, couldn't tear her eyes away from Zafron as he devoured the meal she had prepared with her own hands.
Zafron felt her gaze upon him, an inexplicable unease settling in his stomach despite the delicious food before him. He glanced up, catching her eye for a moment before quickly looking away, overwhelmed by the intensity he saw there.
Matilda's beauty was undeniable, a masterpiece of delicate features and graceful lines. Yet it was the air of enigma surrounding her that truly captivated, drawing one in like a siren's song while simultaneously warning of hidden depths and uncharted territories.
