I hope my parents will survive without me, or perhaps “he” will handle the estate as promised, freeing me to immerse myself in this strange new world. Nostalgia tugs at me like an undertow, but curiosity and excitement about what lies ahead pull stronger, dragging me forward through the dappled forest light.

You see? My emotions churn like a whirlpool—grief, anticipation, fear, wonder—all swirling so violently that they cancel each other out, leaving me oddly numb or a sudden detachment from the ability to feel. Strange, isn’t it? It is a result for my mind’s clever defense mechanism, I suppose. But now that defense mechanism has thawed, leaving me trembling somewhere between exhilaration and terror, and that I feel so intense.

The forest floor crackles beneath my boots, releasing the scent of damp earth and pine. Sunlight filters through emerald canopies, casting golden patterns that shift with each breeze. Now I understand why people claim nature mends broken spirits.

Lost in contemplation, I nearly forget Ethan’s presence until I feel his gaze on my back. I turn to find his eyes studying me, searching my face, though he remains respectfully silent.

“We’re approaching my horse now. Keep heading straight, Athene,” he says with that familiar half-smile playing at his lips. His deep voice carries reassurance, as if sensing my fear of becoming lost in these woods.

I continue forward, my heels crunching over fallen twigs, mesmerized by the dancing butterflies and swaying wildflowers, yet still drowning in questions. Dear God, what fate awaits me? The question echoes through my mind like a prayer without answer.

We finally reached his horse, a dappled gray stallion with a gleaming coat, tethered to a gnarled oak by a frayed hemp rope. The animal snorted softly, pawing at the earth with one hoof. I glanced up at the stranger, catching the way sunlight filtered through the leaves to dance across his sharp features as his lips curled into that familiar smirk.

“Well, my lady,” he said with an exaggerated bow.

“Please accept my apologies for not having a proper carriage with velvet cushions to escort you. This humble steed is all I can offer.” His voice carried that peculiar lilt—halfway between mockery and formality—that left me wondering if he was laughing at me or simply odd-mannered.

“It’s fine,” I replied, eyeing the horse’s considerable height, my skirts suddenly feeling cumbersome.

“But how exactly am I supposed to climb up there?”

In one fluid motion, he leapt onto the horse’s back, the leather saddle creaking under his weight. He extended his hand toward me, fingers splayed, the sleeve of his jacket pulling back to reveal a thin silver bracelet at his wrist.

“Let me assist you, Athene,” he said, his voice softening just enough to notice.

He sits tall in the saddle, steady and composed, one hand holding the reins while the other stretches toward me, offering support. My dress sways in soft folds around my legs as I reach for his hand, the fabric brushing against the saddle with each movement.

He shifts slightly to give me space, his grip firm but unobtrusive, guiding me as I place my foot in the stirrup. I lift myself carefully, swinging my other leg over the horse’s back, settling behind him. My hands rest lightly at his waist, not touching more than necessary, just enough to keep my balance.

“Are you ready, my lady?” His voice drops to a whisper that somehow cuts through the wind and he continues,

“Hold onto me—tightly. The forest path is treacherous, and I’ve sworn to deliver you unharmed.” His knuckles whiten against the reins as he turns his head, eyes burning with an intensity that makes my breath catch.

“If anything happened to you before reaching the master…” He doesn’t finish the thought.

My fingers dig into the fabric of his coat.

“This master—who is he?” I ask. My heart pounds so violently I’m certain he can feel it against his spine.

Could it be him? ……