An Eye for Love

The Plan

Katarina was seventeen, scarred, orphaned, and half-blind.

The fire had been years ago, but she still saw it smoldering in the eyes of her fellow villagers when she walked down the street, when she sat and carved, and when she stumbled into ditches as she carried her groceries home from the weekly market. She saw it when they glanced sideways at her, thinking she wouldn't notice them staring at her face, as she raised items close to her eyes in order to decipher what they were. Her sight wasn't as bad as they thought it was; sure, her eyes had been scorched in the fire, but her vision was only blurry, as if she walked with a film in front of her eyes. It was her face that had taken the worst of the damage; her skin was pulled and puckered and pink, and even after ten years, it made her neighbors uncomfortable.

They weren't very friendly, her neighbors. They liked things to be just so. Katarina didn't, and only Belvedere understood that. He was her best friend. They had a secret hiding spot behind his father's bookshop. He would read to her as she whittled; she couldn't read the letters on the page, but a piece of wood didn't require concentration such as that. She didn't make the wood what she wanted it to be; it became what it was meant to be. Katarina loved that. It didn't have to conform to the expectations of others; people loved when it was warped and even more when it was distinctly unique.

Belvedere, on the other hand, loved the deliberateness of words. He wanted to go everywhere he read about in his books. Katarina didn't think the world was all it was made out to be.

She was the one, however, who was obsessed with fairy tales. Before the fire that gave Katarina her scars, her mother had been the town's resident storyteller. It was incredible how she could create entire worlds out of so few words. Katarina's favorite had been the ones about the town's own witch, Brea Ismene. No one was quite sure why the witch had two first names, or how she'd come to seclude herself in the woods behind the town, or how she'd gotten her powers. There was no shortage of stories that claimed to tell the tale, but the only thing that was certain was that she was incredibly powerful.

Katarina had a strong grip on reality, she assured herself. She knew what was going on, and she knew the world was not an inherently magical place.

Yet lately, she'd been thinking an awful lot about magic.

She was seventeen, after all, and most other girls in the town were getting married. Sure, people died and bad things happened, but she was quite curious to know what being in love felt like. It seemed like it had a magic of its own, and like most magic, it made people go crazy—Bel's books were proof enough for that. Katarina was too sensible for anything like that, of course. But as an inherently curious person, Katarina thought it would be an enlightening experience.

She was on her way to their hiding spot and mulling over this idea. How did one go about falling in love? Was she supposed to choose someone as a target?

It was a lot to consider.

As she stepped into the bookshop, she nodded cursorily to Bel's father in greeting. He did not seem to think very highly of her friendship with his son. Belvedere was popular in town, but his association with the town freak didn't add to his reputation. She reminded herself that she didn't care as she slipped through the back of the store and out to the outdoor alcove that was hidden in the back wall.

Belvedere was there, and holding his book under the leaves of the beech trees, he looked like an ancient statue.

"Hello," he greeted her.

"Hello, Bel," she said. She sat next to him and settled her carving basket on her lap. She carried it with her everywhere, and as she pulled out a block of wood, Bel began reading aloud.