The frozen heart

Chapter 7: A Step Forward

Chapter 7: A Step Forward

The next morning, Anne woke with a plan.

She couldn't shake the image of the cursed boy from her mind—his pale skin, his wary eyes, the way he had disappeared so quickly without a word. If he was as cautious as he seemed, approaching him directly might never work. But maybe... maybe there was another way to earn his trust.

The idea had come to her in the middle of the night, as she lay on her thin straw mattress, staring up at the dark ceiling. If she couldn't get him to stay long enough to talk, she'd have to show him she wasn't a threat. She had to give him something, some small gesture to prove her intentions.

And food was the simplest, most genuine offering she could think of.

After her morning chores, she slipped into the kitchen, grabbing an extra loaf of bread from the batch they had baked that morning. Her hands moved quickly as she wrapped the bread in a cloth, glancing over her shoulder to make sure none of the other maids were watching. They were too busy with their own tasks to notice her—scrubbing pots, tending to the fire—so Anne slipped out unnoticed, her heart thumping in her chest.

The castle courtyard was quiet as she made her way to the garden, her steps light and careful. This was the spot where she had last seen him—by the statue near the treeline. She could still remember the way his eyes had flickered with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion, the way he had hesitated before disappearing. It was the closest she had gotten to him, and she needed to believe it wouldn't be the last.

Anne reached the statue and crouched down, her fingers trembling slightly as she unwrapped the cloth and placed the loaf of bread at its base. It wasn't much, but it was something. A small offering, a gesture of goodwill.

"I hope you find this," she murmured, feeling a little foolish talking to empty air. "I know you don't trust me yet, but I'm not here to hurt you. I just want to help."

The wind rustled the leaves overhead, carrying her words away as if the garden itself was listening. Anne stood up, her eyes scanning the treeline for any sign of movement, any hint that he might be watching her from the shadows. But there was nothing. The garden was still and silent.

She swallowed her disappointment, taking one last look around before turning to leave. Patience, she reminded herself. If he was going to come back, it would be on his own terms. She couldn't force it.

As she walked away, Anne cast a quick glance over her shoulder, hoping, just for a moment, to see him standing there, watching her. But the spot by the statue remained empty.

Anne returned to her tasks, the rest of the day passing in a blur of chores and whispered conversations among the maids. She kept her distance from Maris, afraid that her friend would sense what she was doing and scold her again for meddling in things she didn't understand.

But the thought of the cursed boy never left her mind.

By the time the sun began to dip below the horizon, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink, Anne couldn't stand it any longer. Her heart raced as she stole away from the kitchen again, her feet carrying her back to the garden as if on instinct.

The courtyard was quiet now, the air cooling with the promise of evening. The shadows had grown longer, stretching across the grass like dark fingers, and the statue loomed ahead of her, bathed in the soft glow of twilight.

As she approached, her breath caught in her throat.

The bread was gone.

Anne's heart leaped in her chest as she crouched down, her fingers brushing over the spot where she had left the loaf that morning. There were no crumbs, no trace of the food she had placed there.