The wind tugged at her hair as she mounted the black horse. The shawl wrapped around her neck swerved like a cape behind her, being lifted by the wind.
She tightened her grip on the reins and steered the horse toward the back gates, exactly as Harab had commanded. At a single, decisive kick, the stallion surged forward, its forelimbs rearing into the air for a breathless moment before crashing back down, hooves striking the earth as it launched into a powerful gallop.
The wind rushed past her as the horse dove forward.
The small back gate stood open, half-hidden behind overgrown weeds that had crept into the garden.
With a powerful leap, the horse cleared the gate, landing solidly on its hooves as the ground thudded beneath them.
Joya didn't stop. She didn't look back. Her mind clung to a single thought—seeing him again, being drawn into his embrace once more.
That longing burned through her veins, fueling her zeal as she urged the horse onward.
She journeyed along secluded paths, keeping her presence hidden. The slow drift of the moon across the sky was her only reminder that time was slipping through her fingers.
Moments later, the horse slowed, its pace easing into a trot as its hooves sank into wet sand.
She had made it to the sea. The Black Sea.
The air was filled with the sound of splashing water, waves colliding and retreating in a restless rhythm. The salty breeze swept over her skin, cool and bracing.
She slid down from the saddle languidly, her sandaled feet pressing into the sand as she steadied herself.
The faint sound of sea horns drifted from afar.
She turned slowly, her gaze searching the shoreline, and then her eyes darted to the sea.
It lay ink-black before her, its surface alive with shifting reflections.
Above, the heavens stretched wide, constellations scattered across the sky, and the moon reigned in quiet brilliance, and all of it shimmered upon the water like a reflective mirror.
A faint shiver escaped her as she drew both hands over her arms, rubbing her skin in a futile attempt to summon warmth. The night air clung to her, damp and unkind.
She looked around once more, then began walking along the shoreline. Her eyes narrowed, squinting at every ripple of movement.
Just as she turned back, ready to return to the horse and wait, a voice cut through the stillness.
"Joya!"
Her breath caught. Emotion flared in her eyes as she spun around.
A figure emerged from the darkness, tall, unmistakable, moving toward her with hurried steps. She stood frozen for a heartbeat until the moonlight finally revealed his face.
"Prator."
The name tore from her lips as tears gathered in her eyes. She didn't know when she started running, only that suddenly she was sprinting, feet sinking into the wet sand as she pushed forward with all her strength.
The wind seized her dress, sending it flapping wildly behind her, her breath turning ragged with each step.
Then she was there.
She crashed into his outstretched arms, and he caught her in a tight embrace. She pressed her face against his chest, clinging to him as if letting go would make him disappear again.
"I thought I had lost you," she whispered, her voice breaking as she wrapped her arms around his waist.
He hesitated momentarily before finally wrapping his arms around her fragile form.
Her body shook against him, convulsing with sobs, tears streaking down her cheeks.
"This… this was my fault," she whispered, pulling back slightly to meet his gaze.
"I'm sorry. I truly am. I should have told you… I should have…"
"Shhh," he hissed, pressing a finger gently against her lips before running his hand along her face.
With his thumb, he brushed away her tears.
She held onto his hand, savoring the warmth of his touch once more.
"You owe me no explanation," his deep voice rumbled.
"I… too have kept secrets from you," he admitted.
"It is not the same thing," she replied, her eyes searching his.
"My secrets… my past… it endangers you. I will not let my mistakes cost you the will to live freely."
She shook her head, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill.
"But I am free," he retorted firmly, his face hardening a bit.
"Prator… he allowed me to go scot-free on the account that I never speak of freeing the slaves again."
"And you agreed?"
She asked, and he nodded.
"I had no choice."
She understood his predicament.
"You must leave now."
He said, suddenly remembering why he had specifically asked Harab to tell her to meet him there.
"Leave?"
She questioned, brows arching.
"Yes."
He replied, taking her hand, and he began to pull her along towards his direction.
"Where are we going?"
She questioned her frantic steps as she struggled to keep up with his pace.
"Not us, just you."
His words made her heart shrink.
"He will come after you. Once Vigor finds out you are missing, he will stop at nothing to find you. You must leave Hamstung the night while it is still safe."
"And what about you?" she asked, her voice laced with urgency.
"I shall remain behind. If I leave, he will suspect I helped you escape… I cannot—"
"No!" she shot back, yanking her hand from his in a tight, desperate pull.
"If you stay, I stay."
He shut his eyes, ran his hands through his hair, and fluttered his eyes open before going on to say,
"You cannot stay…"
She wouldn't hear him. She cut him off, being absolutely unreasonable.
"Then come with me! We can leave this place, start a new life, just the two of us… far away from here."
He shook his head, voice dropping low, dripping with sadness.
"It cannot be that way, Joya."
"But why? Why?!" she screamed, her words reverberating across the shore.
Tears blurred her vision, hot and unrelenting.
"Why can't you see… you are all I have?!"
Her chest heaved as she drew in a sharp, salty breath, leaning close enough that he could feel her warmth.
Her lips quivered, her voice barely more than a whisper, yet it cut through the night.
"I… love you."
The world seemed to stand still after she spoke those words. His eyes softened as he watched more tears trace down her cheeks.
"I… I didn't have the courage to say it to you, and I've regretted it every day," she whispered, taking his hand in hers.
"Come with me… please," her voice cracked, hoarse and desperate.
Even as the man he was, Prator felt himself move, almost swayed by her perpetual rants.
"I love you, Joya," he admitted, his eyes softening.
"I always will. And that is why I want to protect you. I will do anything to keep you safe… even if it means we must be apart."
Her chest tightened at his words, a new kind of ache blooming in her heart.
"Why are you talking like this?!" she shouted, her voice shaking with devastation.
"You don't get to decide! I won't go. I won't!"
She began to ramble, breathless and frantic, and he released a slow, pained sigh.
"Joya…"
He reached for her, voice soft and pleading, but she wouldn't listen.
"I… I will stay. I… I will—"
"You're not listening to me," his voice cut through her thoughts, sharp and insistent.
But she shoved it aside. "I will stay. You cannot make me leave…"
"Joya!"
This time, he shook her violently, snapping her from the spiral of her own mind. Startled, she froze, eyes wide, the wind from the sea whipping around them as the truth of the moment hit her fully.
With one swift pull, he drew her towards himself and pressed his lips against hers.
Joya melted into his embrace, pressing forward, her eyes languidly closing shut.
His hand slid to the back of her neck, his other hand pinning her to himself, as their lips interlock in a passionate kiss.
He could taste the tears that had dried on her lips, but it only seemed to add flavor to the moment.
By the time he pulled back, she was breathless, gasping, and trying hard to catch her breath.
Seeing that he had succeeded in calming her, he took her hand in his.
"We will meet again, I promise you," he said. This time, she did not refute him. Did not argue.
"If not in this life, then maybe in the next… but we shall meet again."
Joya bit her bottom lip, then looked away, eyes drawn to the endless stretch of the sea.
It was only then that she zoned in on a boat resting at the shore, a short distance away. That must be where he intended to take her.
He had planned everything, every step of her escape. Taking her hand once more, he began to make his way towards the boat.
Absentmindedly, she followed him toward the boat. When they got to the boat, Joya saw a man was seated inside, and beside him sat a small wooden box.
Prator picked up the box and placed it gently in her hands.
"A small gift… keep it close to your heart. It will always remind you of me." He said, but she remained stiff, her expression blank.
He understood that she was in denial; she had not yet fully recovered from what was happening.
He helped her into the boat, watching as she sank down limply, hands crossed one over the other.
Her head dropped, her eyes distant, and all she could hear were the faint whispers of the sailor and Prator conversing.
Soon the sailor returned, holding a small bag that jingled with coins.
With a firm push, he set the boat afloat and then climbed in, taking hold of the paddle.
Prator stood on the shore, eyes fixed on the small boat as the sailor's slow, steady strokes carried the boat farther into the sea.
Joya's head remained bowed, refusing to spare even one last glance, afraid that a single look would rip her heart open all over again.
Prator watched, standing erect, every line of his body taut with unspoken longing.
He remained there as the boat drifted farther, shrinking against the dark horizon, until finally, it disappeared.
Prator stood on the shore, eyes fixed on the small boat as the sailor's slow, steady strokes carried the boat farther into the sea.
Joya's head remained bowed, refusing to spare even one last glance, afraid that a single look would rip her heart open all over again.
Prator watched, standing erect, every line of his body taut with unspoken longing.
He remained there as the boat drifted farther, shrinking against the dark horizon, until finally, it disappeared.