Whenever she walked down the steep path leading to Tom’s house, she often remembered the women who acted as if the place were their own, quietly waiting for her arrival. Women who would laugh among themselves while watching Swan, with her innocent face, completely clueless about men…

In any case, as “women who had experienced a man” themselves, the widows didn’t think much of such blatantly lewd talk. They spoke openly, without hesitation, about the depravity of men.

Even he, the man in the cabin, had such depravity. She had thought of him as cold and intimidating, like an icy cliff. A man who would have glistened with a cold gaze, adorned with chains of steel.

And yet even he, thinking of a woman like that… No. If he had that thing between his legs, of course. Even Nancy, who had been with Tom the longest, said so. When men wanted to hold a woman, when that desire weighed heavily in their loins, they all acted that way. But still…

Her cheeks burned. Who had he been thinking of when he…? Had he ever been with a woman? If so, with whom…? She bit her lip.

She remembered the smooth skin her fingers had brushed against when they lay side by side. It was completely different from a woman’s body. Of course, it was natural—he was a man. But Swan was the first person to ever make her feel this way.

A man so big, so solid, without a single soft spot anywhere… Really…

“Ugh.”

Her foot wobbled as she groped for a foothold between the rocks. Swan paused for a moment to catch her breath. Right, this was a mountainside. The chaotic thoughts swirling in her head cleared.

Swan blinked and looked ahead. Most of the herbs could be found in the lower areas. She often grew them herself or sowed them in her garden, so they were not hard to come by.

But the Fairy’s Eye, ordered by the lord of the castle, was a rare plant that was hard to find. It wasn’t just because of its efficacy that it was so valuable – it was also because it was so difficult to obtain.

For someone like Swan, an apothecary who had studied herbs instead of learning to read, it was a plant she could locate by instinct, even by feeling her way around the mountainside. But for an ordinary person, it would be hard enough just to familiarise herself with the terrain.

Swan panted, catching her breath. Her ankle twisted slightly, but it wasn’t enough to hinder her movement. She had already gathered a small portion, so she only needed to pick a few more stalks. With practiced ease, she reached out and searched for firm rocks and solid ground.

She felt the rough texture under her palm as she clawed at the hardened earth, climbing steadily up the slope of the valley. With no proper path for humans to follow, gathering wild herbs like Fairy’s Eye that grew in the rugged hills always required this kind of labour.

Still, it had never taken her this long to climb…

She paused, catching her breath as she looked up at the sky, now dimming with the onset of evening. Fairy’s Eye didn’t grow on flat ground, it thrived on steep slopes that forced you to crawl part of the way up. It was a stubborn plant indeed. Swan wiped the sweat from her face as she continued to gather the herbs.

Her scattered thoughts distracted her, causing her to frequently misstep. She corrected her footing again and again, step by step. Even as chunks of dirt crumbled down the mossy rocks, her mind drifted to questions like: ‘What will I say when I get home?’

‘Could he have left already? He left without a word… He shouldn’t have done that…’

Swan pressed her lips together and thought back to the previous night. Despite the cold treatment she had received for no reason, she hadn’t minded. Not once had he given her a warm smile, but just having him around had been enough to help her sleep peacefully.

A man she thought she’d never get close to, and yet she remembered one morning when, after tossing and turning, she found herself clinging to him. Well, to be precise, she hadn’t really been holding him, she’d just been resting her head against his chest.

Her cheeks flushed pink. Her grip on the rock she was holding loosened for a moment. Then it happened.

“Ahh!”

The spot she had stepped on was damp with moss. The accident happened in an instant. Swan let out a sharp cry and squeezed her eyes shut.

“Are you all right?”

“Oh, um…”

The hand supporting her waist was firm and steady. A faint, sweet scent filled her nostrils. Hearing the familiar voice, Swan squared her shoulders.

The bridge of her nose turned red as she blinked and slowly looked up.

A smooth jawline came into view, along with tousled black hair and dark skin. Two deep lapis lazuli eyes… Her heart pounded. Swan bit her lip and bowed her head.

“H-how did you… why are you here…?”

“I was curious where you went every day.”

“Ah…”

Could it really be? As if nothing had happened earlier in the day. As if their paths had never crossed. As if nothing had been noticed. His expression remained unchanged, as stoic and stern as ever.

Swan shifted her weight carefully, testing her footing. The path was still steep, little different from a sheer cliff except for the lack of smooth rocks.

“I, um…”

“If you’re done here, let’s go down.”

“Alright.”

She nodded, and the hand that had been supporting her waist slipped away. She distinctly remembered losing her footing, stepping on something slippery… But when had he managed to catch up with her?

“Were you… following me?” 

Swan asked, her gaze shifting to the man now standing a short distance away.

“Yes.”

“Then, without me noticing…?”

“I suppressed my presence. That’s probably why you didn’t notice.”

“Is that even possible…?”

Swan murmured in disbelief, as if in a daze. To think that someone could suppress their presence to such an extent? A sense of awe flickered in her eyes. The man turned his head as if it were nothing out of the ordinary.

The two walked down the mountainside in silence. On the way back to the hut, Swan couldn’t stop thinking about her earlier thoughts. What if he had seen her face, flushed one moment and cooling the next, all because of her own wandering thoughts?

—

Dinner was no different than usual, except for one thing – no, one person: Theo. His appetite seemed noticeably stronger. He even ate the stale bread he usually avoided, finishing his meal faster than usual. 

Swan watched as he ate with meticulous precision, not letting a single crumb fall as he polished his plate.

His movements were precise. Holding the spoon, biting into the bread, eating with such care that no utensils scraped or clattered – every gesture was neat and composed. It was as if he had spent years learning proper dining etiquette. Swan watched the steady rhythm of his chewing, only to find her cheeks blushing again. Embarrassed, she quickly lowered her gaze.

It was around midnight when she came to a decision about the previous night. Biting her lip nervously, she slipped out of bed.

“Um, I’ll sleep on the floor.”

“There’s no need for that.”

“But…”

“I’ll go to the village tomorrow and see if I can get another bed. Surely I can buy one, or perhaps hire a carpenter. Only if you allow it, of course.”

Swan looked away. He was right. They couldn’t wait for Tom’s return indefinitely. As skilled as Tom had once been as a carpenter, he had become a drunkard who hung around widows’ houses. It would be far better to find a hardworking and reliable carpenter.

“Would that be all right with you?”

Swan asked cautiously, debating whether to bring up what had happened earlier in the day. The thought weighed heavily on her mind. It wasn’t that two adults couldn’t talk about it, but the subject was undeniably uncomfortable. But ignoring it altogether didn’t suit her either.

“Can’t we just wait another day?”

Swan nodded, resting her head on the pillow. The man rested his massive frame on the bed as well. The faint light of the lantern brushed against her eyes, lulling her to sleep. But the awareness of his solid presence just a slight movement away kept her uneasy.

When Swan had lived with her late mother, the bed had felt spacious. She could roll back and forth without bumping into anyone or falling off. But she had been smaller then, and her mother, with her petite frame, was nothing like the large man beside her now.

She thought of her mother, whose slender figure was very similar to her own. Her grandmother had probably been just as small. Obviously, the bed wasn’t the problem. Pulling the blanket up to her chin, Swan looked at the man. He lay still, his back to her, like a statue carved in stone.

Sleep eluded her. The more she closed her eyes, the more vividly the events of the day replayed in her mind, making her uneasy. As she shifted to turn her back to him, her elbow accidentally brushed against his waist. She noticed his shoulder blade flinch slightly at the contact.

Startled, Swan instinctively twisted her hips to create more distance. At the same moment, he adjusted his position, rolling onto his back, and her hip brushed against the back of his hand.

A sharp, soft gasp escaped her lips – a quick “Hik!” – as she froze in place, her body stiffening in surprise at the unexpected touch.

Even with her back to him, sleep remained elusive. As she shifted again, rolling her shoulder to adjust her position, a firm grip suddenly gripped her wrist. The pull that followed was swift and decisive, leaving her no chance to resist or even feel dragged.

The dim light from the lantern highlighted his sharp, chiseled features. Holding her breath, Swan looked up at him. In his piercing, glassy blue eyes, she saw a small reflection of herself, like a tiny speck. Her heart pounded in her chest.

The loose collar of his shirt revealed glimpses of his collarbone and the outline of his chest. Swan’s eyes flickered down to her arms, still propped against the bed, and she felt her face flush hotly, her pulse racing wildly.

“I…” 

The word slipped out, barely audible, awkward and uncertain. Just as she raised her hand to press against his chest, his hand slid past hers, under the hem of her pyjamas, towards her most sensitive area. Startled, Swan twisted her hips reflexively, almost involuntarily.

“Ah!”

“Stay still…” 

His voice was low and soft, almost sleepy in tone. Despite trembling all over, Swan found herself unable to push his hand away. As it moved closer to her most private part, it brushed the back of her knees, sending shivers through her body. Everywhere his touch lingered, it felt as if beads of sweat were forming, her body betraying her will.