She blinked, and printed words crisped from the blurred blotch. Natalia sighed as her eyes wandered back to the first sentence. This was her fourth attempt at reading the page. Or is it my fifth? She groaned in disgust and set the book on the trunk next to her bed.

She'd awoken late that morning, still in her clothes from the previous night. After changing, she opened the cabin door to find her mother on the deck washing laundry. Intending to help, Natalia had approached the washtub, only to be ordered back into the cabin by her mother. I must've heard 'You need to rest!' and 'Don't you dare leave that room again!' half-a-dozen times.

The young woman had spent the day struggling to make headway on her current drawing, sewing, and reading endeavors. She couldn't focus on any of her hobbies: her attention continually drifted back to yesterday's events.

Natalia drew her knees to her chest. Her memory lapse and the resulting chaos had certainly taken a toll on her nerves. Still, this instance wasn't nearly as bad as the other occasions her spells had resulted in her getting lost. There was only one explanation.

Lars.

The evening repeated itself over and over in her mind, interspersed with dozens of unanswered questions. She retrieved her sewing project and tried to busy herself once more.

A knock on the door startled her, and she pricked her finger with the needle.

"Come in!" she called as she pressed the tiny wound against her handkerchief.

Lars poked his head inside. "Good afternoon. Are you able to entertain a visitor?"

"Yes! Please, come in!" Natalia scooted off her bed to greet her guest.

"Don't get up for my sake," Lars insisted, entering. "I'm sure you're tired." He left the door slightly ajar as he removed his short boots.

"No, no, I'm fine!" Natalia assured him. "Mamma just forced me to stay inside today."

Lars chuckled. "So I gathered." He studied the young woman for a moment. "You do look well-rested. I'm glad."

'I'm very glad I met you.'

Natalia felt heat rise in her face. "Any special reason you've come to call today?" she inquired, clasping her hands behind her back.

"First and foremost, to check on your health," Lars responded. "Second—" he slung a sack from his shoulder, "—I need your help with something, if you're up to the challenge."

"Of course!" She grinned, though there was a nudge of disappointment in the back of her mind.

Lars returned the smile, then sat on the floor and opened his bag. Natalia tilted forward for a better perspective. The sack contained two pairs of boots, which Lars removed and put on the hardwood. One set was tall, the ones he'd been wearing the night they met. The other pair looked to be mid-calf in height. As she examined the footwear, Lars withdrew a dagger from the bottom of the bag.

He froze at Natalia's gasp, and fumbled for an explanation. "No— I'm— It's—"

"Did Leone give that to you?" she interjected.

Lars' petrification melted into relief. "Yes, he did." His lips suddenly dipped to a frown. "That's not a problem, is it?"

"No, I was just curious if it was him or Pappa."

"Leone said it was his. Why would you think your father gave it to me?"

"Well, it is — was — Leone's, but before that it was Pappa's, and before that it was his father's, our grandfather's."

"I wouldn't have accepted it if I'd known it was a family heirloom," Lars grumbled.

"It's alright. Leone gave it to you, so it's yours now. Besides, it's been in storage since..." She paused. Best not be specific. "... some time ago."

Lars shot her a perplexed glance. Natalia ignored it.

"Do your boots need mending?" She sat down opposite Lars.

"No, I wanted to see if it was possible to sew sheaths for the dagger into the lining."

"I should be able to do it." She picked up one of the riding boots. "Do you have a preference as to which side?"

"All of them."

Natalia raised her eyebrows.

"I don't know which side will be most comfortable, so I'd rather do them all at once instead of switching it later."

"I see," Natalia murmured. "In that case, I'll probably only finish one pair today." She opened her trunk.

Lars knelt beside her. "If you teach me to sew, I can work on the second pair."

"I don't know if I'll be a good teacher," Natalia muttered, pulling supplies from the chest.

Lars took the items from her hands. "I'm sure you'll do fine."

Natalia flashed a grateful smile and retrieved her abandoned work-in-progress. "Alright. I'll demonstrate a few stitches for you, and then you can try." She plopped down next to Lars.

Lars leaned closer for a clear view. "I await your instruction."

Lars was a fast learner, and the two were soon engrossed in completing his request. Unfortunately, sewing was a mindless task for Natalia, and her thoughts once again returned to the previous evening.

I should ask him.

She raised her eyes. Lars was hunched over, preoccupied with his work. She cast her gaze downward again.

Leave him alone, he's concentrating.

Despite her internal protests, she snuck another peek at her companion. This time, he was staring at her.

"Did I make a mistake?" he questioned, his hand paused mid-stitch.

"No, no!" Natalia squeaked. "You're doing marvelous!"

"Thank you." Lars set the boot aside. "Now, out with it."

Natalia blinked in confusion. "What?"

"I can sense something's bothering you."

Natalia considered denying Lars' suspicion. No, it won't work. I'm sure 'yes' is written all over my face.

Lars touched her hand. "Come on. Tell me."

She drew a deep breath. "Last night, just before the cannon went off, were you going to... say something else?"

I can't do it. She didn't have it in her. No matter how much she'd prepared, she couldn't utter her true question. 'Were you going to kiss me?' There were too many variables. I've never been kissed before, so it's likely I completely misread the situation. Even if I didn't, I'm sure he just got caught up in the excitement of the festival. Except that he isn't impulsive... but the dance was spontaneous. Or was it? Argh!

The seconds dragged on as though they were days. After what felt like ages, Lars finally spoke.

"I can't recall anything."

"O-oh." She was relieved, yet simultaneously disheartened.

Lars cocked his head at her. "Was that all?"

Natalia flushed. "I, um..." She still couldn't admit her quandary. It would be too embarrassing if I'm wrong. "I just wanted to say I'm very glad I met you."

"Really?" His ears turned pink as he looked away.

"Absolutely!" She was confident in that much, at least.

Lars eyes were transfixed on his hands. "Why?"

"Well, you're kind, helpful, understanding, and polite. You work hard without complaint. You have a good sense of humor, but you also know when to be serious. You're fun to be around, and..." She trailed off as she considered the exact phrase she wanted. "And, even though we haven't known each other very long, you're the best friend I've ever had."

Lars' head snapped up, staring wide-eyed at her. Natalia had no doubt her face was red as a beet. She grew increasingly tense at the prolonged silence.

Wordlessly, Lars resumed his work on his boot. Natalia began to tremble, terrified she had upset him somehow.

He glanced up. "I'm sorry," he apologized, briefly meeting her gaze. "No one has ever said such a thing to me before." He returned his attention to the needle. "I'm not sure how to respond."

"That's alright!" she exclaimed, rapidly waving her forearms in tiny back-and-forth arcs. "You don't have to reciprocate the sentiment!"

Lars arched a brow as his eyes flashed in her direction.

"I mean it!" Natalia insisted. "Whatever you decide, whenever you decide it, I'll understand."

Lars gave a small nod as he made another stitch. Natalia fiddled with her own project as she rehearsed her next words.

"In the meantime," she added, "I want to make sure you know that you can talk to me about anything — anything at all — and I'll listen to you. I won't make fun of you, or put you down, or push you away. I'll do whatever I can to help you. I promise."

Lars winced with a noticeable jerk. Natalia gasped in worry, but then sighed in relief as Lars shook his hand out before sticking the tip of his thumb in his mouth.

"This is dangerous," Lars commented, nursing his injury. "You must be highly skilled, to not have your fingers constantly covered in bandages."

Natalia giggled. "Well, I have far more practice than you, though I did manage to stick myself earlier." She purposely neglected to mention the exact timing of the accident. No need to make him feel guilty. "Honestly, only one prick during your first endeavor is outstanding."

Lars chuckled. "I suppose so."

"What's going on in here?"

The pair looked up to see Leone's upper body sticking through the now-fully-open doorway.

"Sewing lesson," they replied simultaneously.

Leone squinted at the two. "I see."

He popped back out to the exterior of the cabin for a split-second before reappearing and focusing on Lars.

"Why are you learning how to sew?"

"So I can help sew pockets for the dagger you gave me. Which you shouldn't have given to me, since it was a family heirloom—"

"Too bad, it's yours now."

"Yes, yes, I know there's no convincing you otherwise," Lars sighed. "The least I can do is honor your generosity by making use of the gift."

"Great!" Leone plunked himself down next to Lars. "Though hopefully you never have to use it use it."

"True." Their friend continued his project.

Leone craned his neck, trying to observe Lars' handiwork. Dissatisfied with the view, he repeatedly shifted his position until he was content with his vantage point: right behind Lars' shoulder. Natalia suppressed a giggle at the increasing annoyance in Lars' stitches until he finally cracked.

"This is hard enough without you breathing down my neck, Leone."

"Sorry. Maybe I can help instead?"

Lars snorted. "Forgive me, but I don't want to deal with the aftermath of you sewing your sleeve to my boot."

Natalia couldn't help but laugh. Leone pretended to be hurt with a pout that lasted all of five seconds.

"Yeah, I probably would do that, wouldn't I?" He grinned and hopped to his feet. "I'll call you when dinner's ready."

Natalia nodded. Lars, absorbed in his work, paused just long enough to wave his hand dismissively.

Leone began to close the door behind him, then changed his mind. "I'm going to leave the door open, okay?"

"Sure," Natalia acknowledged.

"And I'll be outside on the deck."

"Alright."

"Right outside."

"Oookay." Natalia nodded slowly before returning to the task at hand. In her peripheral vision, she could see Lars glaring at her brother with a look that indicated his patience was wearing thin.

Leone pointed to his eye, then Lars, then his sister, then disappeared.

Natalia's gaze shifted to Lars. "Dare I ask what that was about?"

"He just wants to protect you." Lars pulled his thread taut. "Plus he surely feels guilty about last night."

"Ah," Natalia murmured. "He shouldn't blame himself every time something happens."

"Why not?" Lars' voice was so low it was almost inaudible. "Isn't it his fault?"

Natalia flinched and pricked herself (again). "Excuse me?"

"Leone caused your head injury, right?"

Her eyes widened. "He told you about that?"

"Not exactly. I guessed based on his reaction to the first episode I witnessed. He affirmed my conclusion, but didn't divulge any details."

Natalia exhaled. If Leone's able, we should explain everything to Lars soon. "Well, what's important right now is that I've long-since forgiven him."

"You're a better person than I." Lars jabbed his needle into the lining. "I'll never forgive my brothers."

She shook her head. "I'm not better, I'm just trying to live out my faith. 'And be ye kind one to another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, even as God for Christ's sake hath forgiven you.'"

Lars peered pensively at her. "So if someone hurts you, you just pretend it never happened?"

"Not at all." Natalia put her work aside. "You don't ignore someone's wrongdoings, you love them despite their wrongdoings. Precisely how that happens depends on each unique situation, but ultimately you want the best for them: to be saved by Christ and transformed by God's grace."

"Does that mean you'll forgive anyone for anything?"

She nodded. "Yes, anything and everything."

"Leone's lucky to have a sister like you." There was a hint of sad jealously in his voice.

"It's not luck," she gently corrected, then added, "but I'm thankful he's my brother and you're our friend."

Lars scrutinized his sewing with a grimace. "I think I messed up."

She peeked at his progress. "Where?"

He pointed to the spot. "There."

"Ah, no worries," she encouraged him. "That's an easy fix."

That went well.

Given last night's ending point, Hans had been unsure of the reception he'd receive from Natalia. I needn't have worried. She was all smiles, as usual. Except... She certainly suspected something about the end of their dance, though she was too timid to confront him directly. Still, the conversation had allowed Hans to gauge the advancement of his overall plan. I'm close.

Granted, the "best friend" admission and theology education had thrown him a bit, but they worked to his advantage all the same. He just needed to wait a day or two, then seal the deal. Something like, 'I am honored to be your friend, and if that's how you always see me, I will happily accept my place. But if you would perhaps consider the possibility of something more between us, I believe it's a path worth exploring.' He shifted his sack to the opposite shoulder. Although, if she can forgive Leone, I don't even need her to have any romantic feelings. Being her best friend should be more than enough for her to overlook my faults if my deception is uncovered.

He sighed, glancing to the sky.

But I should stick to the plan, just to be safe.

The moon was high as Hans traversed the city streets. He was usually already settled in his cell by this time of night. Now that he reflected on it, he realized his time aboard La Stella Luminosa had steadily increased every evening.

But I always leave when— Oh, I see.

He'd made it customary to use his departure as an excuse to turn down the family's invitation to join their nightly Scripture reading. They must have noticed. The readings were being pushed back a little more with each visit. Perhaps they hoped he would relent, staying for both the reading and the night because it was too late to journey home.

Or perhaps they want to enjoy my company for as long as possible.

The derisive laugh that exploded from within him was unexpectedly loud, echoing against the surrounding buildings. Hans cringed as it bounced and faded.

Yeah, let's not do that again.

He passed the empty guard house and stepped onto one of the stone roads that connected the castle to the city. This particular road was rather dilapidated — it led to a gate that was rarely used — so while this was the best choice for his travel, it was hardly "smooth sailing" getting to the dungeon after a long day. In addition, the castle sat atop the highest cliffs of the island, thus it was a tough uphill climb even with him being accustomed to the trek. About three-quarters of the way up was where he would leave the road for the hidden trail that stopped at the secret door. That leg of the journey was roughest, as it was a winding forest path in addition to being inclined. However, taking the paved road any closer to the perimeter wall increased his chances of being caught by a patrol, and he had no desire to test how thoroughly he could convince a guard that his stable hand duties involved him being out late in fresh clothes with a sack of boots.

He paused for a breath before he began his arduous ascent.

Maybe I should stay overnight sometime.

Metal creaked behind him. Hans jumped and whirled to face the booth, ready to grab the dagger in his boot (and glad he'd decided to wear one of the taller pairs home). "Who's there?!"

"Darn hinges." The owner of the voice pushed the door fully open.

Hans' blood ran cold. Stay calm. "Pierre."

The named man grinned. "Lars. I was hoping I'd see you."

"Were you, now?" Hans replied in the most uninterested tone he could muster.

"Yes, I thought I might find you on your way back to the castle."

"Congratulations, you did." Hans wore his best resting-bored-face mask as he pointed up the road. "I'll be leaving now, if that's all."

Pierre was undeterred. "But why are you going back to the castle?"

"Because I'm a royal stable hand, so I live there." Hans resumed his journey.

"Ah," Pierre voiced, halting Hans' movement, "before you run off, I have a question."

Hans gave an irritated sigh. "And that would be...?"

"Does Natalia have any... interest in me?"

"No," Hans stated flatly.

Pierre frowned. "Why not?"

"You said 'a question,'" Hans snipped, walking away.

Pierre chuckled. "Well if that's how you're going to be, I'll have to re-introduce you to my friend."

Ulrik appeared from the trees, directly in Hans' path.

"I'm sure Captain Sorensen would be very interested in why you're outside the boundary wall, Hans," Ulrik sneered.

He's a guard. Hans froze as all the pieces fell into place. He'd never interacted with Ulrik directly, only glimpsed the man in the background during past trips through the castle gates. Ulrik's unique hair was always hidden by his hat when in uniform. That's why he seemed familiar yet unrecognizable. Given this revelation, Hans didn't have much to fear from Ulrik himself. He's rather new, to not even have a rotation as the lead sentry. He can't do much besides report me.

"I'm sure he would be," Hans retorted, "considering it's his own subordinates that allowed it to happen in the first place. Ratting out your coworkers will certainly make you popular with them, regardless of whatever new rank you're granted."

Ulrik merely narrowed his eyes. Hans returned the expression before he looked over his shoulder as Pierre's footsteps approached from behind.

"Don't be like that. I'm sure we can resolve this in a way that benefits all of us, instead of just one of us."

Hans stiffened at the knot in the pit of his stomach. "You sound like you already have something in mind."

Pierre smirked. "Why, yes. In fact, I have a proposition for you."

Author's Note: Scripture reference: Ephesians 4:32 (KJV)