The days after the ball passed quietly at the manor, but Kim could not shake the feeling that something had changed.
Therese was different.
Before, she always had a reason to find him—whether it was a basket of bread left near his post, a story about the hens, or even a silly excuse to count the stores together when she had already done it once. She had always smiled easily at him, always made him feel like he mattered.
But since the ball, her steps were brisk, her smile reserved. She spoke of chores and accounts, not of thoughts or laughter.
Kim told himself he was imagining it—that perhaps she was only tired. But the longer it lasted, the heavier it sat in his chest.
Finally, on the fourth evening, he stopped her near the granary.
"Therese," he said, voice tighter than he intended.
She looked at him, surprised. "Kim? What is it?"
He hesitated, then blurted, "Are you seeing someone else?"
