I stood frozen as the movement drew closer.
A flash of fur caught my eye. A wild animal?
Still rooted to the spot, I watched as a small furry creature emerged from the bushes—its creamy-colored coat soft and fluffy in the morning light.
What was this?
Before I could decide what to do, it let out a tiny sound—mew.
A soft, almost pleading mew, far more cute than threatening.
My heart eased a little. Maybe this mountain held surprises gentler than I'd imagined.
I stood still, watching the creature approach, unsure what to expect.
Step by step, it came closer, until finally, it brushed softly against my leg.
Harmless, I thought.
I bent down slowly, reaching out a tentative hand. My fingers touched its fur—soft, warm, and surprisingly comforting.
Its ears twitched, turning toward the main house as if it had a destination in mind.
With a quick leap, the little creature started walking toward the building.
I hesitated for a moment, then followed.
Now, I wasn't alone on the path—just me and this mysterious, fluffy companion moving toward the heart of this hidden place.
As I neared the main house, I spotted him—strong and poised, his figure commanding attention without trying. I couldn't help but glance at his shape, feeling an odd flutter in my chest.
"Good morning, Master," I greeted, voice soft but steady.
He nodded in return, calm as ever.
I hesitated, then gathered courage. "Master, may I ask your name?"
He turned slowly, his calm demeanor unwavering. "Of course. You may call me Master Kaelan. And your name?"
I lowered my gaze shyly but met his eyes. "Amelia, Master."
He gave a small nod, as if approving the sound of it.
Before I could ask another question, the small animal appeared behind him and let out a soft mew again.
Master Kaelan glanced over his shoulder and smiled slightly. "Ah, you again. Hungry, are you?"
He strolled into the building and pulled out a shallow pan-like dish. Pouring a little milk into it from a vase-shaped pot, he set it down gently.
I watched quietly, curious.
He spoke softly, his voice steady and calm. "I found this creature while checking the mountains nearby. It was close to the bodies of victims robbed and killed by gangsters. It wasn't dangerous, so I took it with me."
As I saw how gently he treated the animal, a pang of envy stirred inside me. What if he could be gentle with me, too?
His voice pulled me back to the moment. "In the village, they call it a cat. I occasionally get goat's milk to feed it, though sometimes I catch it hunting rodents on its own."
That was the longest conversation I'd had with him so far. I stood there, almost frozen, caught somewhere between awe and shock.
When he finally rose from tending to the cat, he moved past me—too close.
Heat stirred deep inside me, flickering like a flame I wasn't ready to name. His presence pressed in on my skin, making it impossible to ignore the way my breath caught.
I swallowed hard, my thoughts spinning in a dizzy rush.
He was too near—not just physically, but in a way that sent something electric humming through my veins.
I could feel his breath almost brushing against my skin. Then, just as quickly, he stepped back, holding a broom in his hand.
Without a word, he leaned it toward me, letting it rest lightly in my palm.
A warm flush of embarrassment bloomed across my cheeks, pink and fierce, as my racing thoughts betrayed me.
I gripped the broom tightly.
"Yes, Master. I remember my daily mission—sweep the main house."
He gave a slow, approving nod and turned, walking away without another word.
As his footsteps faded and I heard nothing but silence, I let out a shaky breath.
What is wrong with me?!
What am I thinking?
I only wanted a place to stay. A place to train—so I wouldn't be in danger again.
But this… this was different. Dangerous in a new way.
I'd never felt this kind of heat toward any man before.
Frustration welled inside me, twisting tight like a storm.
I grabbed the broom and started sweeping, pushing with every ounce of strength I had.
Dust rose in tiny clouds and spilled out the door.
I poured all my tangled emotions into the rhythm—the anger, the confusion, the helplessness.
Sweeping became my only way to fight back the chaos inside.
I swept the entire floor—it was surprisingly huge—and when I finished, exhaustion weighed heavy in my limbs.
I collapsed onto the cold stone, letting out a long breath as I rested.
Suddenly, footsteps echoed through the quiet space.
He had returned.
He stood at the doorway, watching me.
"You're done? Actually… good job," he said, his voice calm. "Maybe you should be a sweeper."
My skin prickled with agitation. A sweeper?!
I pushed myself up, frustration etched across my face.
But then, I looked at him.
His handsome face softened the edge of my anger, melting it away like morning frost.
I looked away quickly, stubbornly, and lifted my chin, crossing my arms across my chest.
He watched me quietly, unreadable.
I felt foolish—was he teasing me? Putting me down? Or… was it praise?
Conflicted, I turned toward the entrance, stepping away.
But he stopped me, his voice low and steady.
"Now, you follow me. I'll show you the exercises you need to start."
His tone left no room for argument.
I swallowed my doubts and nodded, curiosity and resolve stirring deep inside.
He turned and stepped down the few worn steps, leading the way toward the cold pool.
We wound through thick bushes along a narrow, rocky path, the sharp scent of pine and earth filling the air.
Finally, we emerged into a small clearing, where the grass was neatly trimmed and the stone path led straight to the pool's edge.
The water shimmered cold and clear, a sharp contrast to the warmth of the hot spring.
I stood there, watching him, waiting for what would come next.
He stepped into the center of the grassy clearing and began to move.
His legs spread wide, knees slightly bent, hands curled into tight fists.
Each motion was deliberate and controlled, slow as if he was drawing energy from the earth itself.
But my mind drifted—captivated by the way his muscles flexed beneath his robe, the power flowing through each movement.
There was something dangerous about him, something magnetic I couldn't look away from.