Page 166 of Castings & Curses

The firelight bathed her in an amber glow, shimmering in her golden hair swept up in a loose knot upon her head, lending her an ethereal beauty that was utterly captivating. But it was not merely her physical appearance that ensnared me. The whispers of her magical prowess had reached even the high walls of my castle, painting her as a healer, a beacon of hope for the villagers. The air around her thrummed with unseen energy. I was drawn to it, drawn to her.

“I have heard of her,” I murmured. “Carry on, Vasile.” I broke away from my adviser, my feet carrying me toward the mesmerizing figure. As I neared, she turned, her eyes meeting mine. They were a vibrant shade of green, and they held me captive.

“Lord Lazar,” she acknowledged with a graceful curtsey.

“Mistress Hawthorn,” I replied, feeling the edges of my lips twitch upward into a slight smile.

She eyed me with cautious curiosity. “To what do I owe this unexpected honor?”

“I merely wanted to meet the woman who’s become the talk of the village,” I said, my gaze unwavering. Her expression shifted subtly, her eyes revealing a flicker of surprise before she masked it with a soft smile.

“And what do you think of such a woman, Lord Lazar?” she asked, her words leaving an open challenge hanging in the air between us. Rarely would a noblewoman address me with such cheek, but Sage held my gaze as an equal. Something I found utterly charming and deeply appealing.

I chuckled, the sound low and filled with genuine amusement. “I find her intriguing. You have earned my people’s respect, not through fear or wealth, but with compassion and kindness.”

There was a pause, a moment when the clamor of the celebration faded into background noise. She studied me with those sharp eyes, a spark of something akin to intrigue flickering within them. “Yet, here you are,” she pointed out, “a man of ruthless power amid the simplicity of a village celebration.”

“Sometimes wealth and power aren’t enough, Mistress Hawthorn,” I confessed, and at that moment, I found myself drawn into her lovely eyes. “Sometimes one yearns for something…different.”

As Sage observed me, her gaze searching for the truth behind my words, I felt a vulnerability I hadn’t experienced in a long time. There was an honesty in her demeanor that was disarming, and I found myself wanting to reveal more of myself to her.

“I have everything a man of my station could desire,” I continued, my voice taking on a softer, almost introspective tone. “Wealth, influence, and power are at my disposal, and yet, I can’t help but feel a void within. There’s an emptiness that material possessions can’t fill.”

Sage’s expression softened, and she nodded as if understanding my dilemma. “I’ve always believed that true wealth lies in the heart and soul,” she said gently, her words resonating with wisdom beyond her years. “The love and respect of your people can’t be bought or forced. It must be earned.”

Her insight struck a chord within me. “You speak the truth,” I admitted. “You have a rare gift—a way of seeing through the facade and perceiving a person’s true self.”

A hint of color tinged her cheeks. “It is a gift I cherish,” she replied humbly. “My magic allows me to see beyond the surface, to understand the emotions and desires that shape us all.”

“And what do you see when you look at me?” I asked, intrigued by the prospect of being laid bare before her empathic abilities.

Sage regarded me thoughtfully. “I see a man burdened by the weight of expectations and the desire for something more,” she said softly. “You have a restless spirit, seeking solace and meaning in a world that values power and ambition above all else.”

She saw me for who I truly was, and that was both thrilling and terrifying. It was as if she had peeled back the layers of my persona, exposing the vulnerability I had always kept hidden, sometimes even from myself.

In that moment, I felt an inexplicable pull toward her—an undeniable desire to know more about the woman who could see past the noble trappings of Lord Lazar and recognize the man beneath it all. There was an intimacy in her gaze, a connection that went beyond the superficial.

“Perhaps you could show me a different path,” I murmured.

A small smile graced her lips. “I can only offer guidance, Lord Lazar,” she demurred. “The path you choose is ultimately yours to walk.”

As the night wore on and we strolled along the perimeter of the festival, we continued to talk, our conversation flowing effortlessly. I found myself sharing more with Sage than I had ever shared with anyone before. There was a comfort in her presence, a sense of acceptance that made me feel unguarded.

At that moment, I knew that meeting Sage Hawthorn was no mere coincidence. She had entered my life for a reason, and I was determined to discover what that reason was.

CHAPTER4

Cristian

The morning suncast a warm glow through the tall windows of my study. The scent of parchment and polished wood filled the air, creating an ambiance of quiet contemplation. My thoughts wandered back to the previous night, to her. Each memory and word swirled within the confines of my mind, painting a vivid picture that both confused and fascinated me. This wasn’t like me. Yet the feeling was impossible to ignore.

“Thinking about the village healer, are we?” Vasile’s voice cut through the silence of my private study. He wore a teasing smirk, a rarity in his usual stoic demeanor.

I propped my elbows on my desk, my fingers laced before me and my brows knit in mock puzzlement. “I can’t imagine what you mean.”

My response prompted a chuckle from my seasoned adviser. “The entire village is abuzz, seeing as you spent most of the night with the witch. Do not be so guarded, my lord. It is not forbidden for a man of your stature to be interested in a beautiful woman.”

I rolled my eyes at his assumption, trying to brush it off with a nonchalant shrug. “It is not her beauty that intrigues me, Vasile. It’s her essence, her being.”

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