That afternoon, Elena worked in front of the cottage, loosening the stubborn earth with her small shovel and planting the seeds Clara had given her. The soil was dark and rich beneath her fingers, cool and alive. She worked slowly, carefully pressing each seed into place, whispering a quiet wish over them — for growth, for color, for something lasting.
As the sun dipped lower, painting the fields in soft gold, she sat back on her heels and wiped her brow. The faint hum of crickets had begun, and a warm breeze brushed her face. For a moment, she simply watched the horizon — the way the light faded gently, wrapping the village in peace.
When the last ray sank behind the hills, she stood, stretching her sore back, and made her way toward the cottage. Inside, she poured water into the wooden bucket and splashed her face and arms, the cold making her gasp softly.
"I should try bathing somewhere properly," she murmured to herself, rubbing her hands over her skin. "I wonder how the villagers keep clean. The river nearby should be good enough."
She paused by the window, looking out toward the line of trees in the distance, where the water glimmered faintly under the evening light.
"Maybe tomorrow," she whispered. "It will be the end of the week, and I don't have to go to school."
The thought made her smile faintly. Maybe a walk to the river — just her, the sound of water, and a bit of freedom — would do her good.
As the next day came, Elena went to the village farm, asking for a small piece of meat and a bar of soap made from animal fat. She paid with a few coins she'd earned from teaching that week. The farmer's wife smiled kindly and told her where the river ran shallow and calm enough to bathe.
The air was clear and fresh when Elena reached the riverbank. Birds flitted between the trees, and the sunlight danced over the rippling water. She looked around until she found a few bushes tall enough to hang her clothes behind. Slowly, she undressed down to her undergarments and stepped into the cold water. A soft gasp escaped her lips as the chill wrapped around her skin, but after a while, she grew used to it, rubbing her arms and neck clean.
Just as she was about to leave the water, voices drifted through the air — two villagers, laughing and talking as they walked along the nearby path. Her heart jumped. Quickly, she dipped lower, the water now up to her shoulders. Oh, not now... she thought, panic rising. If someone saw her half-naked in the river, she'd never hear the end of it.
Then she heard another voice — deeper, familiar. Coren.
He stopped the two men and said, "Go on ahead, lads. The farmer might need a hand with the animals — and take some wood to the teacher's house on your way back."
The men agreed and hurried off, their steps fading into the distance. Silence returned, except for the gentle rush of water.
Then came his voice again, calm and teasing:
"You can come out now, lady. I won't look. But next time, you should be more careful."
He paused, and she swore she could hear the smile in his tone.
"Or," he added lightly, "we can make sure there isn't a next time. Let's talk after you get out."
A rush of warmth flooded her cheeks. He knew she was there. Did he see her?
She rushed out of the water, careful not to slip on the smooth stones. Her heart beat fast as she caught sight of his back — Coren stood by the path, facing away, giving her space. Quickly, she dressed, her fingers trembling from the cold and from something else she couldn't quite name.
When she approached him, still dripping slightly, she whispered, "Thank you." Her teeth chattered between the words, the chill biting deep into her skin.
He turned then, eyes soft but watchful, and without a word slipped off his coat. "Here," he said, placing it gently over her shoulders. The warmth of the fabric — and the faint scent of pine and smoke clinging to it — wrapped around her like a quiet shield.
"We should ask the carpenter to make you a proper wooden bath," he said after a moment, his tone half thoughtful, half teasing. "I forgot about that when I brought you here."
Elena lowered her gaze, clutching the coat tighter around her. "Oh, no… you've done plenty already. I didn't even know how to live anymore in that town." Her voice softened, a faint smile tugging at her lips.
He nodded, his expression unreadable for a moment, then spoke in that calm, steady way of his. "Come on. Let's get you home before you catch a fever."
And so they walked — side by side along the narrow path — her footsteps light, his steady. The village lay quiet under the afternoon sun, and for the first time in a long while, she felt something warm rising in her chest. Not just from his coat, but from the simple kindness of being cared for.
As they reached the cottage, Coren stepped inside without hesitation and went straight to the hearth. He knelt and began arranging kindling, sparks dancing as the fire slowly came to life. The gentle crackle filled the small room, casting a warm glow on the wooden walls.
Elena sank onto a chair nearby, brushing damp hair from her face. "I… I don't have anything to offer," she said softly. "The only thing I have right now is a piece of meat. I wanted to cook it…"
He glanced around the small cottage, taking in the empty shelves and modest furnishings. "You haven't bought much yet, right?" His voice was calm, with that faint tinge of teasing that always made her chest tighten. "I'll see how I can help. Maybe tomorrow I could rent a horse and take you to the nearby town for shopping."
She shook her head quickly, a little flustered. "No, no… there's no need."
He smiled faintly, the corner of his lips tugging up in that subtle, disarming way. "Well… for now, no. But we shall see." He stood, straightening his coat, the firelight flickering across his strong shoulders.
"I'll leave you to rest now, lady Elena." he said, a teasing glint in his eyes. "Keep warm, and don't catch a fever."
Elena watched him go, the warmth of the fire creeping over her skin, and something inside her stirred — a quiet gratitude, and perhaps, a tiny flicker of hope she hadn't dared feel in years.