Episode 66

The air in the small cottage, once filled with the scent of dried herbs and the faint, comforting aroma of Amalie’s hearth, now held a different kind of stillness. It was the quiet that settles after a storm, a fragile peace born from profound loss. Amalie, though her body was frail, possessed a spirit that Vlad had nurtured and protected with a ferocity unmatched. His final, silent wish had been for her continued safety, a promise he had etched into the very fabric of his being. Now, that promise echoed in the emptiness of the cottage.

Days bled into weeks. The world outside the castle walls continued its relentless march of time, oblivious to the hushed grief within. Amalie, though weakened, found a quiet strength in the very memories of Vlad’s presence. She would trace the worn patterns on the wooden table where he had sometimes sat, his imposing shadow filling the small space, his gruff pronouncements softening into gentle murmurs when he spoke her name. She remembered the small, carved wooden bird he had once brought her, its wings forever poised for flight, a symbol of the freedom she craved but could not attain.

Her crippled legs were a constant reminder of her vulnerability, but her mind, sharpened by Vlad's quiet encouragement to learn and observe, was a vibrant landscape. She would spend hours gazing out the window, her eyes, sharp and observant, cataloging the flight of birds, the changing of the seasons, the distant figures moving through the castle courtyards. She saw the world from a unique vantage point, a prisoner within her own skin, yet a keen observer of the life that swirled around her.