Ch 4: A Reason to Stay
The kitchen was dark, save for the lone lamp still burning on the far counter. Weak amber light washed over the counters and caught on the copper pots hanging along the wall, leaving the rest of the room submerged in shadow.
Elena paused in the doorway to listen before stepping inside cautiously. She kept close to the wall as she crossed the kitchen, her bare feet silent against the stone floor. She ignored the bowls still left on the long wooden table and headed straight to the stone larder. The ceramic jar stood exactly where she had left it the night before, and when she opened them, she found the two remaining cornetti nestled together.
Elena stared at them for a moment before she reached in and lifted one carefully. One end was slightly crooked, a few flakes had broken loose along the edges, but it was otherwise perfect. She brought it close and breathed in its buttery scent before taking the first bite.
The layers crumbled delicately beneath her teeth, giving way to the soft almond filling beneath. Butter bloomed across her tongue, and Elena’s eyelids fluttered shut. A small hum of pleasure escaped her before she could stop it. The sound seemed unnaturally loud in the quiet, causing her to freeze as her gaze flicked toward the door. She waited a moment, listening, before her gaze returned to the cornetto. As she looked down, she noticed a few crumbs had gathered on her fingertips. She licked one away absently, a smile tugging at her lips as she took another bite.
She was halfway through the cornetto when she heard footsteps coming down the stairs. Elena went rigid. The pastry slipped from her fingers and tumbled onto the flagstones, scattering crumbs at her feet. She cast around for a place to hide, her gaze catching briefly on the walk-in cooler before landing on the tall shelves in the opposite corner. She scrambled toward them, bare feet skidding on the cold stone, and darted behind them just as the footsteps reached the bottom of the stairs.
Elena crouched behind the shelves, pressing herself as far into the narrow space as she could. Her heart hammered against her ribs, and she held her breath, afraid even the slightest sound might give her away. The footsteps entered the kitchen and stopped near the sink. She heard the creak of a tap turning, followed by the rush of water and the clink of a glass against the basin. The tap turned off, and silence settled over the kitchen.
Then she remembered the cornetto and sucked in a breath; it lay abandoned on the floor only a few feet from the sink. Her gaze drifted toward the open floor, and a fresh wave of unease tightened her stomach. Slowly, she edged forward and risked a glance.
Kazimir stood at the sink, draining the glass in one long pull, his large hand resting against the counter. The faint lamplight caught the hard lines of his face, clearer now than on their first night. Black trousers and a black shirt emphasized his broad shoulders and solid frame, while dark hair fell across his forehead. His skin was pale, his jaw rough with stubble, and deep shadows darkened beneath his eyes.
Elena barely dared to look at him. He was bigger than she'd realized, his broad shoulders and powerful hands stirring an old, instinctive fear. The dark shadows beneath his eyes only added to it; he looked exhausted, and she knew better than to trust an exhausted man's temper.
Perhaps sensing her gaze, Kazimir lowered the empty glass and paused, his head turning slowly as his eyes searched the kitchen. Elena held her breath, scarcely daring to move as his gaze traveled across the room and dropped to the floor. He bent and picked up the half-eaten cornetto, his brow furrowing as he turned it over in his hand.
Oh no, oh no, oh no. He found me. He found me.
She shrank behind the shelves, pressing herself into the shadows as his eyes swept the room. Her shoulders hunched as she drew her hands close to her chest, every part of her curling inward as though she could somehow make herself disappear. Her nails dug into her palms as she fought to keep them from trembling.
Please. Please don't come here. Please don’t hurt me. I won’t steal again. Please, please, please, please.
A long silence followed, broken by a sigh and the clatter of something dropped into the trash. She flinched but kept her eyes shut as footsteps moved around the kitchen, accompanied by the soft rustle of something being handled. Then, the footsteps moved toward the doorway and up the stairs, fading with each step until silence returned.
Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.
Elena stayed curled behind the shelf, listening. When nothing followed, her fingers gradually loosened from her palms. She drew a shaky breath, then another, until the pounding in her chest began to subside. Cautiously, she lifted her head above the shelf and scanned the empty kitchen before stepping out.
The jar was back where she'd found it, sitting neatly on the stone larder. And on the long table in the center of the kitchen lay a cornetto, golden and whole, resting on a square of cloth.
Elena stopped, her eyes widening as her gaze flicked toward the doorway before returning to the pastry. She took a cautious step closer, her trembling fingers hovering over the cloth before finally closing around it. For a moment, she stared down at the cornetto, her throat tightening as she held it close. She gathered the cornetto and cloth against herself and tucked them carefully into her bodice before lifting her gaze to the door. She swallowed and hesitated for a few seconds more before gathering her skirts and hurrying up the stairs.
By the time Elena reached the third floor, her breath came in quick pulls. She slowed at the top of the stairs, her gaze drifting down the dim corridor. A few paces away, one of the doors stood slightly ajar, a warm strip of lamplight spilling across the floor.
Elena stopped. Her fingers fidgeted with the fabric of her dress, suddenly unsure what to do with herself. She had come all this way after him, unable to make sense of the kindness he had shown her. But standing there now, with the door just ahead, doubt began to creep in. What was she doing here? What if she'd gotten it wrong? What if the cornetto hadn't meant that he wanted to be kind to her after all?
She should go back. That was what she knew how to do. She had spent years learning that men were safest when left alone. Wanting something from them was dangerous. Trusting them was worse.
But then there was the cornetto. Her fingers curled protectively around the pastry beneath her bodice. Kazimir had known she'd taken his food. If that hadn't made him angry, perhaps the other things wouldn't either. Maybe he didn't mind that she couldn't speak. Maybe he didn't care where she'd come from.
Maybe he’ll be nice to me.
The thought made her chest flutter. She lowered her eyes as warmth crept into her cheeks. She didn't understand what his kindness meant, or why her heart was beating so strangely. She only knew she wasn't ready to leave.
She could thank him. No, she should thank him. That seemed like the right thing to do. Surely he wouldn't mind that. And perhaps… perhaps he would let her stay a little longer. Perhaps he would even like having her near him. And if he didn't, that was all right. It was only natural. She couldn't expect anyone to want her there.
Her fingers tightened in the folds of her dress as she looked toward the open door. She drew a slow breath, smoothed the fabric beneath her trembling hands, and finally took a step forward. But before she could cross the threshold, voices reached her from inside.
One of them was unfamiliar. It belonged to an older man, his warm baritone rolling through the room with an easy calm. There was no sharpness in it, no impatience or threat that made her instinctively shrink away. The soothing cadence drew her in, but the words themselves made her listen.
“—you haven't acknowledged her. The men see that, and they've been talking. They think you can't handle a woman.”
Silence stretched for a moment before Kazimir answered, his voice low and cold, “What I do in my bedroom is my business. But Leo tells me some of your men are having trouble keeping their hands to themselves.”
The stranger sighed, a trace of incredulity in the sound. “They’re your men too, Kazimir. But can you really blame them? Have you slept in that bedroom since she arrived? If you don't establish control, others will try to take it.”
Elena's chest tightened. They were arguing because of her. She didn't know what she'd done or what they meant by control, only that she had somehow made trouble for Kazimir. She clasped her hands together, twisting them nervously.
“Noted,” Kazimir said, his voice turning icy. “I'll take care of it. I should have handled this the moment she arrived.”
He's angry with me.
Elena lowered her eyes abashedly and stepped away. Whatever she'd hoped to say to Kazimir suddenly seemed foolish. She wanted to thank him for the cornetto, but after what she'd just overheard, she didn't think he'd want her lingering. She'd already caused enough trouble. It was better to leave him alone for now. Later, when he was in a better mood, she could go back and tell him she was sorry.
Her hand slipped to her bodice, finding the cornetto tucked safely there. She glanced back over her shoulder at the open door, lingering for a moment before finally turning away.
Last edited by Feiya Phia 9/6/26 - Final Edits