"Have you lost your senses?" she hisses. "Moving like that. In front of everyone. With thosesavages."
Her fingers tremble as she gestures toward the tavern, toward the muffled noise still seeping through the walls. "You looked—" She stops herself, swallowing hard. "You looked like a girl with no shame. Like one who invites eyes."
Tears blur my vision in an instant, driven by pain and shame alike.
"You are not a child," her tone hardens. "You are a young woman, a promised one, and you let yourself be pulled and spun like—" She breaks off again, crossing herself feverishly, as if to ward off the very image. "The devil himself was pushing you."
I choke on my breath. "I’m sorry, Mama, I didn’t know. I didn’t mean—"
"What will people think? What will Radu think? His parents?" Her gaze bores into me, relentless. "Do you want them to believe you cannot be trusted? That you are not pure?"
My head jerks in denial. "No, Mama. I was just—everyone was dancing. Everyone was—"
"Enough."
The word snaps shut whatever I was trying to say.
She straightens, drawing herself up as if gathering the last of her restraint. "You will go home," she says. "Now. Alone. And you will remember yourself."
Her voice softens in the slightest, yet that only makes it worse. "It is time you finally learn."
My chest heaves, tears spilling over despite my effort to hold them back. I nod, because there is nothing else left to do, my throat too tight to form words.
"Yes, Mama."
She watches me for a moment longer, as if to make sure I will obey. Then she turns away, hand already lifting to cross herself again, lips moving in a tight stream of prayer.
I stand there for a moment, unable to move. My cheek still burns. My arms ache where her fingers dug in. The tavern door looms behind me, warm light leaking from its frame, laughter slipping through like a cruelty.
Nothing settles. Nothing makes sense.
It was only dancing—everyone was dancing, singing, laughing. I thought—
I don’t even know what I thought. The joy from moments ago feels unreal now, like something dreamed and woke too roughly from.
I have barely taken two steps when a hand clamps over my mouth.
My scream dies in my throat. An arm locks around my waist, crushing the air from my lungs as I am yanked backward, my shoulder striking stone. I thrash blindly, nails clawing at the arm pinning me, heels scraping uselessly against the ground. My heart pounds so violently I think it might tear itself free.
The forest surges back into me: white teeth, wet sounds, red eyes in the dark. This is it.
My breath stutters, trapped. My vision blurs with tears.
Then—
"Shhh."
The hand loosens. I gulp air, choking as the figure steps into what little light reaches us, revealing a familiar outline. A face I know.
Radu.
His hair is mussed, his collar loosened, the careful composure he wears in daylight abandoned somewhere inside the tavern. His eyes gleam with something bright and far too awake. Relief crashes through me so hard it leaves me dizzy, weak, furious all at once. I press my back to the wall, one hand flying to my throat.
"Radu," I whisper, voice shaking. "You scared me."
"I could tell," he huffs, as if the night itself has let him in on a joke I missed.
Despite myself, a small smile slips onto my mouth. My heart is still racing, but it begins to slow, dragged back toward something safe.
