Page 55 of Songs and Spun Gold
She hesitated at the top of the stairs, though. Where before there had been light at regular – if infrequent – intervals, now there was only a deep well of darkness. Could she convince herself to enter it on the chance he was down there?
The shadows seemed to curl out, reaching for her. A shiver of fear crawled up her spine before she took a step back, shaking her head to clear it. Shadows only moved when light did. She wasn’t going to let the experience of the last two nights make her fanciful.
A slight creak of the floorboards drew her attention to a shadowy corner on her right. Something that looked like a coat rack sat half-in, half-out of the light. As she watched, peering into the corner, she thought she saw something move near the floor.
Did they keep cats in the theater? Or maybe it was a mouse?
The squeak of hinges and footsteps behind her made her spin back around. A young man dressed in black trousers, a fine white shirt, and slightly-scuffed boots stood in the doorway of what she assumed was an office, brown eyes wide as he stared at her.
For a moment, she simply gaped back at him. Then her mouth stretched into a grin. “Gunther!”
His own face lit up clear to his eyes as he rushed forward, reaching her in two long strides. “Katrin! You came back!”
To her astonishment, he swept her up into a hug. He held her firmly for two heart-stopping seconds before abruptly releasing her and taking a step back.
What should she say after a welcome like that?
Gunther reached out and gently lifted a small lock of her curly hair, twirling it around his finger as his expression melted into something softer. “Your hair looks nice down like this. It suits you.” Directing his gaze to her, he asked, “What brings you to town? Are you staying with your friends again?”
“No, Angelika didn’t bring me this time,” Katy slowly replied. She dropped her eyes to the floor. “It’s a bit…complicated.”
“Walk a little with me?” He pulled his cloak off his arm, swirled it around his shoulders, and offered his elbow. “We can’t go far; if someone comes looking for me, I don’t want them to worry when they can’t find me. But we could slip out the side door and traverse the alley for a bit.”
Meeting his warm brown eyes, Katy felt her chest squeeze. This was a mistake; she shouldn’t have come. She’d hoped for this reaction, but it was unspeakably painful in light of her circumstances.
She tucked her hand in his elbow anyway.
Once they were outside, she drew her hand back and took a few paces away before turning to face him. “I had to see you again.”
“Did you?” he asked with a small smile. She couldn’t decide if the slant to his eyebrows made his eyes fond or sad. “I thought I told you to forget me.”
“You gave me permission,” she argued. “I don’t remember a command.”
He clasped his hands behind his back and took a step toward her. “But you were still supposed to.” Dropping his eyes, he asked, “What happened to your bracelet?”
Startled, Katy whipped her hand away from her bare right wrist. She’d reached over to finger the leather cord out of habit, having forgotten it was no longer there. An ache pierced her, but she suppressed it; as she’d reasoned the night before, it was past time to lay her memories of the young noble to rest. She shouldn’t miss his river stones.
Especially since he didn’t miss her.
“I gave it away,” she finally replied, looking away. “It proved to be valuable in trade.”
“I’m sorry.”
They stood in silence for several minutes. Apparently, he had no more words than she did this morning. At least the late winter sun was a little warmer than it had been, and the wind was barely a breeze. It was almost pleasant to be standing in the alley listening to the gentle hum of people walking past and the rattle of wooden carriage wheels over the stones of the street.
Gunther alternated between looking at her, the sky, and his feet. She studied him in return, noting that his nose seemed shorter and thinner than she remembered. His cheekbones were different as well. But it had been dark before; perhaps the shadows had changed the shape.
“You really should forget about me, Katrin,” he said at last. His voice was quiet, and there was no question now that his eyes were sad, contrasting with the slightest upward curve of his lips.
“You can call me Katy,” she offered just as quietly.
His smile grew a little, and a slight twinkle graced his eye before fading out again. “You really should forget about me, Katy.”
“Only if you forget about me, too,” she replied. An annoying quiver threatened to pull her lower lip out. “It doesn’t seem right that you be the only one to suffer.”
“But I don’t want you to.” He took another step forward and slowly raised his hand toward her face. He held it a few inches away before letting it drop. “You at least have the freedom of choice, Katy. Use it. Be happy.”
“That’s debatable.” She tried to laugh, but she cut it off when it felt more like a sob in her tight throat. Even if she truly did have a choice at this moment – which she didn’t, since the king had taken it away – she couldn’t choose whatever she wanted. She was practically betrothed to Fritz, and Gunther had just told her that he wasn’t even an option. “Being poor doesn’t open every door.”
