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Meet Me in Montenegro
Chapter 20: Albus Felinus

Chapter 20: Albus Felinus

Vidosavka moved silently through the forest of Montenegro, her bare feet making no sound as they lightly tread on the snow and scattered debris that carpeted the forest floor. The trees, their branches bare and shivering, seemed to bow before the biting wind that whipped through the woods, their withered leaves dancing and whispering secrets with every gust. Yet, the cold that cut through the air like a blade seemed to roll off her, as if she were immune to the numbing chill that gripped the world around her. She was a vision of ethereal beauty, her long black hair streaming behind her like a dark, fluttering banner in the wind, and her skin gleams almost like ivory under the soft glow of the moonlight filtering down through the trees. The white dress she wore clung to her slender form, its fabric billowing and fluttering around her with each step, giving her an almost ghostly appearance. The contrast of her dark hair against the snow and the stark whiteness of her dress made her seem otherworldly, as if she were a spirit gliding through the forest, untouched and unbothered by the harsh elements that surrounded her.

She comes to a halt, her breath catching in her throat. Her body tenses as she scans the darkened forest around her, her gaze flitting from tree to tree. She listens intently, her ears straining to catch the slightest sound. Her eyes widen as she spots a brief movement in the underbrush nearby, a flash of striped white fur disappearing among the trees. Her heart races as she watches the trees, trying to catch another glimpse of the mysterious creature. A sense of dread washes over her as the figure draws closer, a low, menacing growl issuing from within the trees. The creature's eyes lock onto her, two pale, icy blue orbs that glow in the moonlight. It moves with a predatory grace, its pale, striped fur making it almost blend into the foliage and snowy surroundings. The princess stumbles backwards, her fingers clutching at the front of her dress. Her wide, terrified eyes remain fixated on the creature stalking towards her, her body frozen in fear. The cold wind cuts against her exposed skin, sending a shiver down her spine.

The creature revealed itself with a sudden, terrifying grace—a magnificent white Siberian tiger, its massive form a blur as it lunged out of the treeline with breathtaking speed and strength. The air seemed to shatter around it as it emerged, its muscles rippling beneath its sleek fur, eyes gleaming with a predatory hunger. Vidosavka's breath caught in her throat as terror seized her, a scream tearing from her lips. Without a second thought, she spun on her heels and bolted in the opposite direction. Her bare feet slipped and skidded on the snow-covered ground, the icy chill biting into her skin as she fought to escape the deadly beast that pursued her.

As she fled through the trees, her thin white dress caught on a low-hanging branch, the delicate fabric tearing loudly under the force of her frantic movement. The sudden resistance yanked her backward, and she tumbled hard onto the snow-covered ground, the cold shock jolting through her body. The torn dress remained snagged on the branch, leaving her in a state of undress, her bare skin exposed to the biting cold. Panic surged through her as the icy air stung her flesh, her breath coming in ragged, desperate whimpers. She scrambled to free herself from the fabric that held her, her hands trembling as she tugged at the snagged material, each second feeling like an eternity as the fear of the pursuing tiger loomed over her like a dark shadow.

The tiger leaped forward and bared her to the ground, pinning her in its powerful grasp. Her body trembled with terror as the tiger's massive claws dug into her supple, pure flesh, and its fangs sank into the soft tissue of her precious neck.

Oleksandr shoots up in his bed, his skin slick with sweat. His heart pounds against his chest as he tries to catch his breath, his mind still disoriented from the intense dream. He sits on the edge of the bed, his eyes wide open as he tries to process what he had just seen. He grabs his pants quickly, pulling them on and not bothering to even put on a tunic. He sprints out of his room, the cold stone floors cool against his bare chest. He races through the castle, the halls almost deserted at that late hour, his mind focused on one thing only.

Oleksandr's body tenses as he cautiously pushes open the door to her room, peering in and seeing her petite form in bed, resting on her elbow, her slender body illuminated by the dim glow of a single candle. Her hair cascades around her in loose tangles, and her hands gently pet a small, white kitten lounging on the blankets. A white kitten. huh. As she looks up at him, her eyes wide with surprise, Oleksandr's heart stops for a moment, seeing her there, safe and sound, unlike in his dream. He stands up straight, taking a deep breath as he watches her petting the kitten. He clears his throat and speaks, his voice low, "excuse my intrusion, my lady. I..." He hesitates for a moment, struggling to find the right words to explain his impulsive behavior, his dream still fresh in his mind. She sits up in bed, holding the kitten to her chest.

"What's wrong...?" She asks, her voice small and surprised. Oleksandr tries to catch his breath, his eyes fixated on her sitting up in bed. The sight of her, safe and unharmed, begins to soothe his nerves a little, the image of her torn and bleeding form fading from his mind. He shakes his head slightly, trying to recompose himself, and speaks truthfully, "I… I had a dream, a bad dream. I had to make sure you were alright." She looks down at the kitten cradled in her arms, her slender fingers brushing gently over its soft fur.

"A dream?" She asks, her voice soft, her gaze still fixed on the small creature. "What kind of dream?" Oleksandr shakes his head lightly, stepping back to leave the room.

"Do not concern yourself, my lady... I'll see myself out. Goodnight…"

"Wait..." Her small voice rings out, her quiet command catching him off guard. Oleksandr pauses, his hand still on the doorknob, his eyes flicking back to her. She looks up at him, her golden eyes locking onto his, the flickering candlelight highlighting her small, delicate features. "Please, don't leave yet." Oleksandr looks down the dark corridor, his mind telling him to leave and not risk further trespassing. He turns back to her, his voice a hushed whisper, his heart torn by indecision.

"I shouldn't linger here, my lady. I am not permitted." Her eyes widen slightly, a flicker of something passing across her features. For a moment, Oleksandr thinks he sees disappointment or hurt in her gaze, but it quickly vanishes. There is a long pause, the silence filled only by the soft meow of the kitten hopping around on the bed. Then, she speaks, her voice quiet and trembling slightly.

"Please… just a moment longer." Oleksandr steps back into the room, the soft click of the door closing behind him. The silence between them is thick with an undercurrent of tension. He stands awkwardly in the middle of the room, his eyes fixed on her petite form, her vulnerability in that moment stirring something within him. She looks up at him, her eyes wide and pleading, "Can you… sit with me… for a while?" He nods lightly.

"Alright…" He stands a few steps away from her, his muscled arms crossed in front of him, his eyes never leaving her resting on the bed. There is a moment of quiet, the atmosphere in the small room thick and heavy. Then, she speaks again, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Please… sit." Oleksandr crosses the room, his bare feet treading soundlessly on the cold stone floor. He lowers himself onto the thick bearskin rug in front of the fireplace, his back resting against the stone wall. He sits there, and takes a moment to glance around the room for the first time. The room is vast, with grand stone windows framed by heavy, dark velvet curtains. The walls are made of cold limestone, their pale texture contrasting with the rich, luxurious fabrics that dominate the space. The bed is the centerpiece, a regal four-poster draped in deep red velvet sheets, with a canopy that cascades down in soft, shadowy folds. The thick velvet canopy is intricately embroidered, catching the dim flicker of light that fills the room. Velvet cushions and embroidered pillows are artfully arranged on the bed, their rich hues of deep purples and reds reflecting the luxurious and stately air of the room. Thick, patterned rugs cover the stone floor, their intricate designs nearly lost in the dim lighting but adding warmth and texture to the space. The room is luxurious and feminine, and his eyes quickly sweep the various vases, tapestries, flowers and knick-knacks strewn about.

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The silence between them stretches as he waits, allowing her to speak first. She tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear, her small frame almost disappearing in the oversized bed. Her eyes study him, taking in the way the firelight plays across features, his powerful, muscular shoulders and the way his trousers hang low on his hips. Finally, she speaks, her voice soft and trembling slightly.

"I have a favor to ask of you." Oleksandr's brow quirks slightly at her words, curiosity and a hint of trepidation mixing in his mind. Her voice is so soft, so vulnerable, and the look in her eyes seems to be pleading with him.

He takes a moment to gather his thoughts, then replies in a measured tone, "I'm at your service, my lady. What is it you ask of me?" Her small fingers toy with the edge of her blanket, her eyes dropping to the bed for a moment before meeting his gaze again. There is an uncertain, almost frightened look on her face, like she's trying to find the courage to ask what she wants to ask.

Finally, she speaks, her tone laced with vulnerability, "I… I can't sleep. Can you… stay with me a while? Just until I fall asleep." Oleksandr turns his head slightly, his eyes darting to the door, weighing the consequences of his agreement. A bit of guilt gnaws at him for going against his king's orders, but the pleading look in her eyes softens his resolve.

He looks back at her, the soft, flickering light illuminating her small frame swathed in blankets, and nods slowly, "that’s alright... I can do that." A small, relieved smile graces her lips, her shoulders seeming to release some of the tension they were holding. She pulls the blankets up to her chin, snuggling deeper into the pillows and allowing her eyes to close halfway, a contented sigh escaping her lips. For a moment, neither of them says anything, the silence in the room filled only by the soft crackle of the fire and their gentle breaths, before she speaks gently.

"Oleksandr… My father told me that you come from the land of the Rus... But I don't know much else about you." He nods as a small smile tugs at the corner of his lips. His voice is deep and steady as he speaks, his accent thick with the harsh, rolling cadence of the north.

"Aye, my lady. My ancestors hail from the Rus’ lands, and I am specifically from Siberia... A wasteland of cold, of snow, of vast, barren emptiness…"

"It must have been very hard growing up there... I can't even imagine what it must have been like."

"Yes... I had a difficult life." He responds, reluctant to tell her much about his past. "It hardened me, taught me things I didn't want to know. But it made me strong, tougher than any steel." She nods, her eyes never leaving his face, absorbing every word. It's as if she can sense the shadows in his past, the pain and loss that haunt him, even as he tries to keep it all locked away.

"And your family… your parents?"

"I'm an orphan. I never knew my parents." Her face registers surprise at his words, her brow furrowing slightly in a way that makes her look even more innocent and vulnerable. She holds the blankets tighter to her chest, staring at him intently, like she's trying to imagine the terrible things he must have endured growing up. Silence stretches between them. Finally, she speaks, her voice hardly above a whisper.

"You must have been very lonely..." He smiles lightly.

"I wasn't lonely. I had my brother. We were twins, actually." Her eyes widen slightly as he mentions his twin brother, her lips parting in surprise as some of the tension in her shoulders seems to dissipate, replaced by a hint of curiosity.

"You have a twin?" She asks, her tone filled with an almost childlike amazement. "What's he like?" He looks down at his hands, fidgeting with his bangles, a small, bittersweet smile grazing his lips.

"He's... He's just like me. We had spent every moment of our lives together, we were each other's parents in a way. He's a bit more... tender hearted than I, though. More creative." Her lips pull into a small smile at his words, the light playing off her features. It's almost as if she can sense the deep connection he had with his brother, the bond they shared. Her eyes flutter closed for a moment, her voice taking on a dreamy, far-off quality.

"It must be incredible… to have someone who knows you so deeply, better than anyone in the world..." He nods, looking over to stare into the fire, the orange and yellow flames dancing in the hearth in front of him. His mind drifts to memories of his brother, a small tug of loss and nostalgia pulling at his heart. He can almost see his smiling face, those cheeky eyes and that impish grin… He takes a deep breath, shaking himself out of his thoughts, and turns his gaze back to her. She's watching him, her eyes filled with a soft expression of understanding.

"And what of you, Savka? Do you have many close companions?" Savka's expression softens as he asks about her, a small, gentle smile gracing her features. For a moment, she seems lost in thought, like she's remembering something beautiful.

"I love my father, of course," she says quietly, her voice taking on a wistful tone. "But he is very protective of me... I've never had much freedom, always cooped up inside the castle walls... My companions, my ladies-in-waiting, have been close friends to me since I was a young girl."

"Do you wish to have more freedom? Or do you find comfort in solitude?" Her eyes drop to the bed, her fingers playing with the edge of the blanket once again. There's a moment of hesitation, like she's trying to choose her words carefully, before she speaks again, that soft smile still on her lips.

"Of course, I wish for more freedom," she admits quietly. "I wish I could explore outside the castle walls. Wish I could see the forests, the mountains… I wish I could feel the sun on my face, the wind in my hair, without fear of my father's disapproval..."

"I hear that sometimes you sneak out at night. Where do you go?" Her small frame stiffens almost imperceptibly, her eyes widening ever so slightly in surprise. A hint of guilt flashes across her face as she hesitates, trying to formulate a response.

"I… I just go for a walk. Sometimes I need to get out, stretch my legs, and breathe in the cool air." Oleksandr raises an eyebrow.

"That's understandable, but is there more to it?" Her shoulders give a slight, almost unconscious shrug, and she looks away from his gaze, her voice growing even quieter as she gently pets the belly of the tiny sleeping kitten.

"Sometimes… I go to a small clearing I found in the forest. It's quiet there, secluded… I can be alone, sit under the stars, watch the moon.” She pauses, flipping over to lay on her back. “There's a pond there," she continues, her voice taking on a dreamy tone. "Sometimes I even go swimming… The water's cold, but it feels so refreshing after being locked up in that castle all the time. Sometimes I find interesting creatures, like newts and frogs and snails."

"You know, you can always ask me to follow and keep an eye on you. I won't bother you or invade your privacy, but I can make sure you're safe, if you insist on going out at night into the wilderness." Her gaze drifts over to meet him again, her eyebrows raising in slight surprise. For a moment, she looks like she's considering his offer, her lips parted, as if to speak. It's clear that she wasn't expecting such a suggestion.

"You...?" She asks, her voice quiet. "You would be willing to… follow me at night?”

“Well, it's my job. I know I can't keep you from going out, but I need to at least ensure that you're safe.” Her expression softens visibly, a hint of relief washing over her features.

"That… that would be nice," she admits quietly. "To know that I have someone watching my back, just in case. But still… Sometimes I long to not be constantly watched by someone, like I have been all my life. But… Yeah. I'll think about it and let you know, Oleksandr."

"Of course," he replies softly. "Take your time. Just let me know when you make up your mind." He watches as she cuddles the small, white kitten, her movements slow and drowsy. The fire in the hearth crackles and pops, casting a soft, warm, orange glow over her delicate features, gently caressing her pale skin, making her look almost angelic in the dark room. It doesn't take long for the princess to begin drifting off to sleep, her eyes half-lidded as she snuggles the kitten against her and slips into the dreamland. The rhythm of her breathing begins to grow slow and deep, her body relaxing into the bed, the little white cat in her arms mewling gently at the absence of the soothing caresses.

He gets up and treads softly, careful not to wake the sleeping princess, extinguishing the candles and the fireplace one by one until the room is engulfed in darkness. He glances at her one final time, the image of her peaceful, delicate figure etched into his mind as he turns and steps through the door, closing it gently behind him, disappearing into the castle halls. Oleksandr pads down the halls in darkness, the castle eerily quiet at this time of night. His footsteps take him down the corridor out of the royal halls until he reaches the door to his own private quarters. He pushes open the door and steps inside, closing it quietly behind him.

Weeks pass, into months. His days are a consistent routine of waking before the break of dawn, summoning the guards to the training field for an early morning workout and drills. After they disperse, he returns to his quarters briefly before his duty as the princess's personal guard begins. He waits patiently for her to wake up each morning, then follows her throughout the castle, watching her back as her silent, ever-vigilant sentinel.