Chapter 11: Head Massage.

Katrin's heart pounded as she paced back and forth in a dimly lit room, her hands trembling at her sides. The transaction had taken place swiftly; the mysterious man who had placed the highest bid had paid the exorbitant sum, this meant that she might mean a lot to him. She was now left alone waiting for the man to come and take her, the weight of her new reality was settling heavily upon her.

The man stepped closer, his features still hidden beneath the shadow of his hood. "My, my, you certainly caused quite the commotion back there," he mused, his voice carrying a playful, almost tantalizing quality.

Katrin's tried to meet his gaze, her defiance flaring. "I'm not going with you, I'm not some trinket to be traded. I won't be toyed with."

He chuckled softly, a low, melodic sound that sent a shiver down her spine. "Feisty, I see. I like that."

As he leaned in closer, Katrin's breath caught, her heart racing. But just as his lips brushed against her ear, a mixture of irritation and determination fueled her response. She pushed him away, her voice laced with defiance. "Enough of your games."

He chuckled again, but this time it held a touch of amusement. With a swift motion, he pulled down his hood, revealing a shocking head of familiar brown hair and a pair of captivating sea blue eyes. Katrin's eyes widened in astonishment.

"Y-you! you're the man from this morning. Duke Ethan?" she stammered, her disbelief evident.

"Surprised, my dear?" he replied with a smirk, his tone light.

"But why?" Katrin's curiosity got the better of her. "Why did you buy me?"

Ethan's gaze held a glint of intrigue. "You piqued my interest, human. And I must admit, I'm a touch bored and need a bit of entertainment in my life."

Before Katrin could retort, he took her hand and pulled her towards the door. Her heart raced as they left the room, their steps echoed through the hallways and Katrin could hear odd sounds from some of the rooms they passed, some almost sounded like muffled cries, cries that sent shivers down her spine.

Their progress was short-lived cause as they turned a corner, they were met by a tall and regal figure, his expression a mix of annoyance and concern. "Ethan, have you lost your mind?"

Ethan's grip on Katrin's hand tightened, his expression unyielding. "Felix, I don't need your lectures."

Prince Felix, his features still striking with the ethereal beauty of the elves, crossed his arms with an exasperated sigh. "I told you not to buy the human, Ethan. And yet you went against me. Do you never listen."

There was a tense silence settled between the two men, their exchange heavy with unspoken words. Finally, Felix's stern demeanor softened, and he sighed in resignation. "Fine. You can keep her. But promise me, Ethan; please promise me, that you won't have her dead by dawn."

Ethan's lips curled into a wry smile. "You wound me, dear brother. I assure you, I have no such intentions."

With a begrudging nod, Felix turned away, his silvery robes billowing behind him as he disappeared down the hallway.

Katrin's heart raced, both from the encounter and from the fear that had momentarily gripped her. Ethan released her hand and turned to her, his expression less guarded. "Shall we continue, my dear?"

As they made their way through the corridors, Katrin's thoughts were a whirlwind of emotions. The revelation that the mysterious bidder was Duke Ethan both surprised and confused her. She stole a glance at him, her curiosity getting the best of her. "Why did you go against the prince's wishes and buy me?"

Ethan's gaze held a hint of something more serious beneath his usual charm. "Because, Katrin, you are unlike anyone I have ever encountered, possess an aura of potential that intrigues me, and I intend to discover what lies beneath the surface."

Their conversation was cut short as they reached the building's entrance, where a luxurious carriage awaited them. Katrin's eyes widened as she took in the sight, the extravagance a stark contrast to her humble origins.

But her attention was diverted when she noticed Willow and Lucy standing a short distance away, their expressions a mix of sorrow and pride. Katrin's heart ached at the thought of leaving behind the two people that even if she just met for some reason felt close to her, she met their gazes with a saddened smile ad waved a subtle goodbye, a silent promise to herself, as she had now decided to uncover the truth about her identity and her connection to the goddess Altair.

With a mix of apprehension and newfound resolve, Katrin stepped into the carriage behind Ethan, the door closing behind them. As the carriage pulled away from the building, she knew that her chosen journey had begun, and that she was on a path to discover the depths of her own destiny.

******

The maid Felix had bought was told to seat with the travel servant while Felix rode alone.

The carriage that Katrin and Ethan sat in jolted as it rolled away from the slave house grounds, the sound of hooves and the creak of wheels accompanying the rhythmic clip-clop of horse's footsteps. Inside the luxurious carriage, Katrin sat by herself quietly, her gaze fixed on the passing scenery outside. Her mind, a whirlwind of thoughts about the uncertain future that lay ahead.

What will become of me now? Can I really trust this man to keep me alive? What about the destiny that Willow spoke of? how do I find it?

Lost in her contemplation, Katrin didn't notice Ethan's movement until his warm breath tickled her ears, and his soft voice broke through her reverie. "Lost in thoughts, are we?"

Startled, Katrin turned her head to see Ethan now seated beside her. Her cheeks flushed as his proximity caught her off guard. "I... Yes, I suppose I was". Her heart quickened as she tried to look away, but her eyes trailed to his lips and she remembered earlier when they'd brushed her ears which were now warming further.

Ethan's voice lowered, a teasing edge to his tone. "My, my, you really are quite red, my dear."

Katrin's embarrassment turned to annoyance as she attempted to get up and move to the opposite sit seat. However, Ethan's hand shot out, firm but not unkind, and held her waist gently but firmly in place. Her heart raced as she turned to glare at him, her eyes flashing with irritation.

"Don't forget, Katrin," Ethan's voice was soft but commanding, "you are now under my care. You belong to me, and you will do as I say."

Katrin's irritation only grew, but she found herself unable to ignore the weight of his gaze and the commanding authority in his voice. With a sigh of resignation, she relented, her voice laced with begrudging compliance. "What do you want, then?"

Ethan's lips curled into a satisfied smile. "A simple task, my dear. A head massage."

Katrin's eyes widened in disbelief. "A head massage?"

Ethan leaned back against the plush seat and closed his eyes. "Yes. I find it rather relaxing."

A mixture of indignation and disbelief welled up within Katrin, but she knew she was in no position to refuse. She hesitated for a moment before sighing in defeat. "Fine, I'll do it."

Ethan's lips quirked up even more as he shifted, resting his head in her lap. Katrin's cheeks flushed as she tentatively began to massage his scalp, her fingers working through his hair. The silence in the carriage was only broken by the rhythmic sounds of the horses and the soft rustling of fabric.

As Katrin's hands moved, her frustration began to ease, replaced by a strange sense of calm. She stole glances at Ethan's relaxed expression, and despite her annoyance, she couldn't help but notice the vulnerability in his demeanor.

Time seemed to blur as Katrin continued the massage, her thoughts drifting to the peculiar situation she now found herself in. Her initial anger gave way to a reluctant understanding, and as Ethan's breathing grew steadier, she realized that perhaps beneath his charm and arrogance, there was more to the Duke than met the eye.

As the carriage rolled on, the sun began to dip below the horizon, casting a warm orange glow across the landscape. Katrin's fingers worked through Ethan's hair with a newfound sense of purpose, a silent acknowledgment of the intricate web of fate that had brought them together.