It all seemed so far away to me, but seeing things from Joana's point of view was fascinating. She wasn't like Alice, with her expectations and manipulations. Joana had intelligence and independence, and above all, her own plans. She talked about her future with such conviction that I began to question my own plans, as if I were seeing the world in a way I had never imagined before.
It was a good day, but before I knew it, something happened that I never expected. She approached me almost senselessly, and before I could react, her tongue was in my mouth. It was my first kiss, and it happened so unexpectedly, so without warning. Part of me wanted to stop, to step back and analyze what was happening, because everything seemed so fast, so sudden. But another part of me, a part I barely recognized, wanted to feel it one more time. I wanted to carry on, not question it, just let the sensation consume me.
After that day, we started going out together. We'd meet up at school and hang out at the end of the day, without rushing, without many words. For me, this became a great test of self-esteem and determination. As much as I wanted to throw everything away and focus solely on her, I knew I couldn't do that. A part of me wanted to put everything aside, to devote myself only to her. I wanted to kiss her again, to smell her, to touch her. There was something in me that wanted to prioritize her, to take care of her, as if that was the only goal I should have.
But deep down, I knew I couldn't let myself get carried away like that. I couldn't abandon my own desires, my own training, for someone else. I couldn't lose sight of what was important to me, what I had established as my routine. I didn't want to become that doormat again, the most humiliating feeling I've ever experienced in my life. I needed to maintain my limits, my discipline, or everything I'd built, all my effort, would crumble.
So I continued my routine, focused on what really mattered. I started running more in the morning, something I'd never done before, just to get better. I concentrated more on basic archery training, always going step by step, with my mind on what I could improve, on the points that could be adjusted.
At the same time as getting involved with Joana, I decided to dive headfirst into my studies. I didn't want to be all force and instinct anymore - I wanted knowledge, complete mastery of the tools the world offered. School had a lot to offer, and for the first time, I wanted to absorb it all.
Literature surprised me. I discovered that words could be as sharp as swords. Poems, short stories... all that was a way of expressing emotions that I could barely name. Writing became a way of organizing my mind, of naming what I felt and hid. It was like sharpening my soul.
Mathematics took a more technical turn, with geometry, accounting and practical applications. For the first time, I began to understand that old carpentry book Benta had given me. The numbers made sense now - they had form, function, purpose. I saw measurements in the boards, feasibility in the drawings and logic in the structures. It was as if a new language had been revealed.
Botany, on the other hand, was a dance with nature. Gardening, recognizing herbs, studying medicinal properties. The subject required pure memorization, but I found it fascinating. It wasn't just memorizing - it was understanding the rhythm of the earth, the intentions of the leaves, the secrets hidden in the stems. It was living, pulsating knowledge that could heal or poison.
I avoided archery and fencing classes. I needed to hide my strength. Most people there had no idea what I was capable of, and I preferred to keep it that way. I directed my energy towards Pharmacy. Curiosity was insatiable. I studied three classes a day. Mixing substances, understanding proportions, observing reactions - all this gave me a sense of control that I had never had before.
Over time, I felt my body maturing, but more importantly, my mind began to expand. My thoughts were clearer. I felt more whole. And it was in this process that I began to become disillusioned with Joana.
At first, everything seemed magical. Her kisses, her warmth, her presence by my side. I'd never felt anything like it. But over time, I began to notice the small details. The automatic gestures. The questions that came with a smile, but with a weight behind them.
- Are you really the heir to your family?
- What's your allowance?
- How much land do you have?
- Do you have plantations? Mines?
At first, I thought it was just curiosity. But the questions kept coming. And they were always about that - power, wealth, influence. I tried to ignore it. I tried to believe it was a coincidence, her insecurity perhaps. But it wasn't.
After three months, the mask began to slip. She started commenting on expensive clothes she dreamed of owning. Jewelry. Shoes. And one day, with a look that mixed innocence and calculation, she said:
"This school is so expensive... if things go on like this, I don't think I'll be able to stay."
It was then that everything inside me began to crumble. Again.
It hurt me more than I'd like to admit.
The more I pretended not to notice the hints, the more Joana became distant, irritated. The kisses became rushed, almost without feeling. Conversations that used to go on for hours began to die in the middle. And then the daily meetings became weekly. The silence between us began to outweigh any words.
I already knew what was happening, even if I didn't want to accept it.
In the sixth month, when there were only seven days left until the end of the school year, we met again. The campus was quiet, almost melancholy as the end approached. The sky was overcast, as if it also knew that something was going to end there. When I saw her, my chest tightened. I still liked her. Despite everything, I liked her.
"I'm sorry, but we can't go on with this. I don't think we're going to work out." — those were the first words out of her mouth.
Direct. Cold. No room for hope.
It wasn't a shock. I'd expected it. I knew she didn't really like me. But that didn't make the pain any less.
Because I liked her. The way she talked. The way she smiled. Her touch on my skin. It wasn't about what she could give me. It was about who she was, and how she made me feel. And that made it all the crueler.
A part of me wanted to cry. Scream. Beg her not to go. But I just stood there, static, as if my body were bound to the ground by invisible chains.
"Are you kidding... or are you serious?" my voice came out low, hoarse.
She crossed her arms.
"I'm serious. I thought you were the heir to House Udrik, but you're not, are you? Don't lie. I saw the real leader going out with the soldiers to defend the city. You're nothing like him. If you were just a scapegoat, you should have said so from the start. Tsk... what a waste of time."
It was like she'd hit me with a rock. One of those that catches you off guard in the middle of the chest and makes the air disappear.