For the first time in what felt like an eternity, Katheryn was allowed to leave her hut. The village head had decreed she could move around the village but under careful observation.
However, her usual shadow, Athanasi, had been absent for the past two days, rumor had it he was leading a hunting trip deep into the forest, leaving Katheryn to her own devices.
While she still felt the villagers' suspicious gazes, she reveled in the relative freedom of wandering without his constant presence.
The village bustled with activity. Merchants called out to passersby, their stalls overflowing with fresh produce, dried herbs, and handwoven goods, children darted through the crowd, their laughter mingling with the occasional bark of a dog or cluck of a wandering chicken.
The vibrant life of the village contrasted sharply with the loneliness Katheryn had felt since her arrival.
She spent the first part of her day exploring, keen to learn more about the place that had become her reluctant home. She lingered at a small stall where an elderly woman sold bundles of herbs and dried flowers. The scent of lavender and chamomile was soothing, reminding Katheryn of simpler times.
"You have an interest in herbs?" the woman asked, her wrinkled hands deftly tying a bundle of thyme with twine.
Katheryn nodded. "I know a thing or two from my studies."
The old woman's eyes narrowed with curiosity. "You're the prophet woman, aren't you? The one they say has knowledge from the gods."
Katheryn smiled faintly, choosing her words carefully. "I know some things, but I'm no prophet. Just... someone who's studied."
The woman grunted, sliding a small bundle of mint across the counter. "Take this. You look like you could use it."
Katheryn thanked her and continued on, clutching the bundle tightly. As the day wore on, she observed the villagers at work—women weaving baskets, men repairing tools, and children fetching water from the well. The simplicity of their lives was both comforting and alien to her modern sensibilities.
By late afternoon, she returned to her hut, exhausted but invigorated by the change of scenery. Her small dwelling felt less stifling after the day's excursion, and she allowed herself a moment of contentment.
However, as evening fell, Katheryn found herself restless. The isolation was creeping back in, and she decided she needed a distraction. She had heard about the village pub, a lively place where locals gathered to share drinks and stories.
With nothing else to occupy her, she made her way there.
The pub was a modest wooden building, its warm glow visible from the end of the street. Inside, the air was thick with the smell of ale and roasted meat.
Villagers sat at rough wooden tables, laughing and toasting, their voices a comforting hum against the crackle of the fire.
Katheryn hesitated at the door, feeling out of place, but she quickly spotted an empty corner and slipped into it, ordering a mug of beer and a plate of goulash with bread, paying with coins Samo left on her table.
The hearty meal was a welcome change from the plain fare she had been given in her hut.
As she ate, she became aware of someone watching her, glancing up, she met the gaze of a young man seated across the room.
He was strikingly handsome, with chocolate-brown hair that fell in soft waves and dark green eyes that seemed to pierce through the dim light, when their eyes met, he smiled, and Katheryn felt a flutter of nervous excitement.
The man stood and made his way over to her table, his movements easy and confident. "Mind if I join you?" he asked, his voice warm and inviting.
Katheryn hesitated for only a moment before nodding. "Not at all."
He pulled out a chair and sat across from her, his presence immediately filling the space. "I'm Troy," he said, offering his hand.
"Katheryn," she replied, shaking it.
Their conversation began tentatively but soon flowed with ease. Troy spoke about his life in the village, his dreams of becoming a knight, and the customs he hoped to preserve. He was kind and genuine, a refreshing change from the guarded and suspicious villagers she had encountered thus far.
Katheryn found herself laughing at his stories, forgetting her circumstances for a while. She told him about her own world in vague terms, careful not to reveal too much but sharing enough to intrigue him.
"You're not like anyone I've ever met," Troy said, his gaze lingering on her face.
Katheryn felt her cheeks warm. "That's probably because I'm not from around here."
The tension between them grew as the night went on. Each glance lingered a moment too long, each smile carried an unspoken promise. When Katheryn stood to leave, she looked back at Troy, her eyes silently inviting him to follow.
They walked together through the quiet village, the night air cool against their skin. When they reached her small cottage, Katheryn paused at the door, her hand resting on the frame. She turned to face Troy, her heart pounding in her chest.
Without a word, he stepped closer, his eyes locking onto hers, he cupped her face gently, his touch sending a shiver down her spine. Then his lips were on hers, warm and insistent, and she melted into him.
Troy's hands moved to her waist, pulling her closer, but as he deepened the kiss, something caught his attention. The flicker of candlelight reflected in platinum hair and steely grey eyes, barely visible in the shadows.
Troy pulled back abruptly, his expression shifting from desire to panic. "I have to go," he said, his voice unsteady.
Katheryn blinked in confusion. "What? Why?"
But Troy didn't answer. He turned and fled into the night, leaving her standing in the doorway, bewildered.
"Enjoying your newfound freedom?"
Katheryn gasped, spinning around to see Samo emerging from the shadows. He stepped into the dim light, his expression unreadable.
"Samo," she breathed, her heart racing. "Were you—?"
He didn't let her finish. In two swift strides, he was in front of her, his presence overwhelming. His hand reached up, his fingers brushing against her lips, wiping away any lingering trace of Troy's kiss.
"You're forgetting something," he murmured, his voice low and dangerous. "You're not a free woman."
Katheryn's breath hitched as his words sank in. Samo's hand lingered for a moment before he stepped back, his eyes burning into hers.
"Get inside," he ordered, his tone leaving no room for argument.
Katheryn obeyed, retreating into the safety of her hut, but as she closed the door behind her, she couldn't shake the feeling of Samo's presence, his touch, his words.
Alone in the dimly lit room, Katheryn pressed her fingers to her lips, her thoughts a whirlwind of confusion and fear. What had just happened?