Are you hungry?

I turn to see Nadeje looking at me and nod. I feel as though I should tell him of my lack of acquaintance with the man, but as he turns away I decide it better to wait. He brings the basket of groceries to the table and takes from it the berries and sets them in their place on the shelf. He then takes two eggs from the cabinet where they stay, and also peculiar black things in a jar.

What are those?

He looks to me and I gesture to the black granules. Beans, he says educationally. They are a main food in Spainso is rice.

I swallow and watch as he empties about a cup of them into a pot and pours some well water into it with the pitcher.

Feeling me watching he looks up. Do you know how to make eggs? It is gentle and undemanding.

I nod and step in to help. I rinse my hands and crack the eggs onto the pan, adding salt and pepper. He cleans the rice as I wait for him to light the stove fire. He does, and I set the pan on the rack over the fire to cook. He does the same with the beans. I watch as he fills two cups with pitcher water and sets them aside for us on the table. I step into his room and put down my shawl and return.

Did you know him?

I turn as he chops vegetables and throws them into the pot of beans, as he calls them, his gaze on his work and his back to me.

The man? He clarifies to my silence.

I look him in the eyes as he turns. Id never seen him in my life before the market, I reply honestly.

He watches me and I feel not understood.

I amin doubt of any relation to him in any context, I say.

It is truthful.

He nods and moves to set two plates on the table.

A few minutes later, we sit down to eat. The beans are good, and though I wish to, I do not ask questions of why perhaps we do not have them growing here in the Netherlands. Instead we eat in silence. After we have both finished, I help to clean, dry, and place the dishes back where they are neatly stacked in the cabinet. When I have completed the task I turn to leave, thinking it beneficial to get rest after todays market meeting, but then I remember the man and feeling a small pull in my stomach, I turn back to him.

Mr. Gilch? He looks up. Could youthe curtains in your room...they are difficult to fix so that I feel He understands. He rises from his squat by the fire and watches a moment to see it fully extinguish, then starts around to follow me. I feel my skin crawl and toes tingle and decide obstinately to blame it on the cold. I stand aside by the door as he walks in and to the window. I wait as he reaches up to fix the pole at the top. He draws them in once, and out, in, out, and in, testing them. Seeming certain that the work is accurate, he heads back towards the door. I watch him quietly, not moving until he steps passed. I move after him, planning to lock the door, but then I remember. I hesitate. I push it aside.

Mr. Gilch He stops only a step from both me and the door and there turns to face me. I glance down then look up again at him, feeling shyness prickle in my heart.

Thank you.

His eyes watch me softly and I feel my heart beats harden in my chest. I let my eyes linger too long on his and everything inside me begins to vibrate. He gently touches his hand to mine. I feel my chest tighten and yet loosen all at once and I grow stiller. He watches me a moment, his eyes soft and peaceful. He slowly comes closer.

I weaken as his head lowers and he leans. I grow unbearably vulnerable as the air between us lessens to our own breaths, and feel that my skin chills yet warms as he nears me steadily. I feel a light shock yet relief flicker through me as his nose lightly skims down the side of mine. I close my eyes. I forbid myself to feel his fervor, yet also weaken to his warmth. I have to pull awayI feel dizzyI must move awayI try. I dontI cant move. I try to fight it.

Nadeje, I hope that my soft sound might let him understand.

He doesnt. His arms slowly and tenderly slip around me and mine are drawn up where I find my hands on his stomach. He moves carefully and my heart triples its speed. I am not breathingam I? I hesitate and resent it a little as his head dips further down. I cant let it happenI am no longer breathing.

Mr. Gilch, my voice is weak and pleading, no more than a breathless whisper.

He stops. He slowly raises his head from mine. I feel tears wet my eyes as I open them and fearfully avoid his gaze. His arms consciously but unquestioningly release me. In moments I feel suddenly very small and alone.

Lyra I glance into his eyes but look back down. I meant nothing of He steps back but stops. Lyra Go, Nadeje.

It is soft, but I feel too weak to make it any stronger. I feel my words seep into him and my heart hurts. He takes a moment. When I do not move, he is gone.

Chapter 18.

The next morning I wake up drowsily and stiffly. I ungratefully rise from bed unsure if the soreness was still from my run the day I ran to the Gallows, or from tossing and turning in lack of sleep.

I feel my heart waver as I catch the sounds of Nadeje outside. I try not to let it get to me. I turn away from the window and take my time to dress and rinse my face and mouth from my wash basin. I pause a moment.

I look out through the small gap between the curtains around the window and breathe slowly. It is early, but not nearly enough to be dark. There is a pinch in my stomach as I watch a soldier stride past the window and eye a Dutch boy. Two others follow him, looking less official. I step closer to observe them for longer. I watch the soldiers strides carefully and feel that it is similar to another. I cannot name which. I read his uniform, his boots, and his gate. That is when I realize he is walking in the direction of our door.

I swallow. Should I tell Nadeje? Would it make any difference? Could they be coming for me? Were they Spanish or Dutch? NoEven if it would make a differenceafter yesterdays unpredicted encounter with NadejeI feel my heart unwantedly sink in regret and stomach churn sickly. I cant finish the thought. I quickly tear myself from my lost gaze and harmful thoughts as I start for the kitchen.

I am a foot away when there is a knock on what sounds like the front door. I hear the sound of Nadeje moving and soon after the sound of the front bolt unlocking. I reach for the knob but I am stopped. What if they are here for me? Shivers run down the inside of my skin and I dont move. I hesitate for the moment when they would come in, for the loud clamor when they would barge in. What if they search for me? What of Nadeje if they are here for me? Fear of the guilt which I know would come from his harm tightens my throat. What if they find me?

Then, I am relieved by the calm sound of men speaking. I move closer to the door and put my ear against the old wood, listening carefully.

Our leader has given the command to search and now emphasizes the state of the girlhis demand is great, the price large, and the mission fairly easy to accomplishplus there is an abundant reward in pounds. His intentions have just been given to us after hisurgent businessyou might not have heard of it yet. He has ordered our preview of the daughter, so that we can assure him of her current well-being. He directed us that she has beentended toand shelteredin this place.

There is a moment of silence in which I can hear my own heart beating.

You wish to convince me of allowance into my home? Nadejes voice is calm but firm.

Under our Kings commands. We are sent here to investigate your property. Will you permit us to enter?

The way he says it, property, is as though he meant more than that. As though he meant me. And I have a feeling that the Kings intentions meant these two pursuing me for something undesirable.

There is the sound of shuffling feet and I back away a bit in fear that Nadeje has let me down, but not a moment later, his voice makes me stop.

I would prefer otherwise.

I look to the door. Realizing I am not able to hear, I move back against its surface.

The only sound left is the mans voice, which gives me the cold feeling that he is displeased. Another time is not our taskeither we are allowed admittance now, or we are allowed nothing. I would suggest the first, Mr. Gilch, or I will ensure that more are to come if you are obstinate against our positions.

I grip the door knob and listen intently, trying to catch every word which leaves their mouths.

The more the merrier. Nadeje sounds surprisingly unfriendly, possibly holding back worse.

The man at the door laughs, but it lacks humor. Your stubborn Spanish head has been worthless to the King these passed two weeks, he wouldnt be disappointed to wait maybe, after all.

I am warned.

I listen waiting, relying on every sound.

He has always favored you to be in the wrong, and as you are so determined, finally it has become your disadvantage.

Nadejes voice is low and quiet, hardly more than a growl. I am also on the right side.

There is silence; it even seems to be in the streets. I realize that even I have stopped breathing.

And which side is that?

The clear sidethe one with truth. It is honest, and calm still.

Are you announcing your rebellion then? The voice is cool and dangerous.

Nadeje is quiet a moment longer than usual. Just a change of mindsetof thoughts.

There is no question of the mans displeasure. I hope you hang.

There is once more that silence in which I could only hear my heart. Although this time, I feel that I also hear it falter.

Then, just barely, there is a soft growl out of which I make his response. Leave.

I wait, breathless and unsure of Nadejes unfamiliar guardedness.

As you wish, the mans voice sounds poisonously calm, like he knows he has the better advantage. Mr. Gilch.

There are the faint footfalls from the doorstep and I hear the door close and lock. My body relaxes a bit. My mind, though, is spinning with questions. I wait, absorbing the silence and thinking of nothing but the wooden streaks in the door I stare at.

When I hear his footsteps, I feel longing and unsure tingles run through me. I slowly open the door to a crack. I find him looking through the dining room window, swallowing dryly. I wait a moment, then reach past my fear.

Nadeje, it takes a moment, but my soft call registers and he slowly turns his head, and then his body.

He watches me a moment. You heard? It is a slight question, yet he spoke as though knowing so.

I nod.

He waits a few seconds and slowly starts closer. When he is right in front of the door which separates us, he stops as though seeing something which hadnt been there before he had been so close.

Are you afraid of me?

I watch him a moment, unsure of how to respond.

Noonlyunsettled by I want to say, you touching me, but I know it would not be correct. I worry a moment for my lack of words. Not knowing your intentions.

He looks over my face as though reading me. Have I been hurtful?

I shake my head. You were gentleI was just I am sorry.

I watch him, not able to think of what to say.

I wasnot in my right state of mind I feel my heart beating and try to calm myself. What does he mean? Was he not sober? No. He was. Did he not mean what he had been implying in his actions? I force the thoughts away.

Mr. Gilch, he looks at me regretfully. You are forgiven.

He shakes his head and draws back. I He looks inimical; for the first time I have ever seen him look so.

He laughs bitterly and I feel a little uneasy. I have just ruined another He looks into my eyes. Breakfast is on the fire if you desire itIwill be back in He watches my face, as though savoring it. I feel myself blush but force my eyes to stay on his face. He shakes his head again. I will be back soon.

He turns to leave.

I feel my heart race and cant help but voice it. Nadeje He pauses but doesnt turn.

I realize I called him by his informal name and feel my blush harden. What did the men mean byintentions? At the moment I didnt really care to know, but it was all I could grasp to make him stay longer.

He sighs. They meant only that He turns to look at me. Only what I Seeing my face he gentles. I interoperate it as I just have to protect you a little more.

We wait a moment of silence, then as though seeing nothing here than what he wishes to be rid of, he starts away.

I do not follow. I choose that maybe it is wise to wait to ask questions until later today when he returns. He will return.

Chapter 19.

I sit at the table before the warm stove, waiting for Nadeje to return. I cant help but feel ignored and unwanted, even though I know he is out to scorn himself. Yet, as it darkens, it is harder to pay attention to my book and easier to suspect his return at any given sound, and his further absence to be his resentment towards me now. I sigh and try to keep my eyes on the page, but my mind has other plans of wandering elsewhere.

Finally, it is dark and I am worried. I force my eyes to the page even as they sting and beg otherwise from either tire or tears. I go with the first. I listen to every footstep outside waiting to hear one stop at the door.

Finally, I hear him. I feel some inner release as he enters, but I dont see him from my place. Then he is there, in the doorway. I look up and I observe his state; he does not seem drunk, there is no force behind his stance, his dress is as before, and he seems to be mild in temper. Of course he isnt in worse states, he is your Nadeje. I feel relieved and curse myself as the thought enters me.

I remember that he most likely has not eaten since his leave, and I am thankful that I cooked something while I was alone.

I meet his eyes. They watch me resolutely, determinedly, with less relaxed emotion than before, though they are less regretful. I wish though, that the calming nature in them would also return. I glance at the page number, than set aside the book and look to him again, hoping that he cannot see the happy shine in my eyes.

Have you eaten? I ask gently. It surprises me that I am able to make sound come out so soon.

He watches me a second longer before he seems to come back to the material world. Noare you hungry?

I motion to the stove. The food should be warm. I have not yet eaten dinner.

He nods, then steps towards my roomhis roomour room?

I feel a twinge in in my heart and wrench myself from the thought. Moeder would be turning in her grave.

He enters silently, and closes the door behind him. I am a bit disordered by his actions, but I stand and put my book on a nearby shelf and begin to take care of the food.