The Stranger

Katarina's POV

The stranger, whom I later learned was named Thomas, introduced himself as a poet. 

I didn't want him to see me as a girl who wasn't really blind so I kept my head down most of the time.

"I was captivated by your voice, your eloquence, and the way you carried yourself. I have been watching you from afar, intrigued by the strength of your spirit."

This was weird. I liked him for being direct with me and coming to me like he wanted to know me. It was better than being rejected.

"Thank you," was all I could muster up.

"Ehh, forgive me for asking but are you blind? The cane and the way you walk tells me that you are or maybe I might be mistaken."

"Oh no. I can't see a thing," I chuckled.

"Oh that's fine. I don't mind that."

Thomas didn't see my blindness as a hindrance but rather as a unique aspect of my being. 

While we talked, I found out that he saw beyond the physical and recognized the beauty that lay within. He told me stories of love, weaving words that painted vivid pictures in my mind, allowing me to experience the emotion and connection that I so desperately yearned for.

If only my ex husband could have been this wonderful, maybe life would not have been hard for me.

With Thomas by my side, I began to see the world through his stories. He described the vibrant colors of the countryside, the delicate beauty of flowers, and the warm glow of candlelight. 

He only described all of this because he thought I was blind but I had never seen the world in such a vivid way before.

He really had a way with words.

As time went on, Thomas and I developed a deep connection through words, but that only lasted for a while until the sun started to go down.

"Would you want to come over to my place?" He asked as I was taken aback by this sudden request. He barely knew me, why would he want me to his house?

"I don't know what I would do there."

"Well, you're very beautiful and you have a very nice body," I saw his eyes ogling my breast as his hands went straight to my thigh which I willfully removed and got to my feet.

"I'd like to go home now. Thank you for the company."

But if I thought he would let me go like that without holding me back, I was mistaken.

"And where do you think you're going?" He asked as I turned to him.

"I thought you were a friend I could confide in. You're just a guy who wants to sleep with me."

"You're blind. No one would accept you for who or what you are. Just let me go under your skirt and maybe we can go from there."

And I thought the modern world had its share of problems. The medieval world was as crazy as this one.

"I'll be fine."

As I walked away from Thomas, my heart sank with disappointment and a tinge of sadness. 

The man I had liked had revealed his true intentions, and it shattered the image I had of him. 

I had hoped that our connection was genuine, that he saw me for who I was beyond physical desire. But his insistence on taking things to a more intimate level so soon had shown me his true colors.

There was no way I could let Jane be with this man. He was a predator. I had to protect Jane at all cost.

Refusing to compromise my values and self-respect, I stood my ground, declining his proposition to go to his house. 

In response, his attitude shifted dramatically, his anger spewing out in hurtful words. 

"You're a whore and a cheap bitch!" He yelled as people who passed by the night looked at us. "If you think you'll find someone like me then you're mistaken. What do you think you are? You're blind. No one would want you.

"Just when I thought we had some kind of connection, you turn out to be some kind of cheap whore. The women at the whorehouse are ten times better than you."

It was a painful blow, but I knew deep down that his opinion of me didn't define who I truly was.

With a heavy sigh, I turned away from the man, determined not to let his hurtful words affect me. 

As he called for a chariot to take him home, I watched him retreat into the night, a mix of relief and disappointment washing over me. It was clear that our paths were not meant to intertwine any further.

As I made my way back to the palace, a sense of self-doubt crept into my mind. Had I done something wrong? 

Was I not deserving of love and respect? These thoughts gnawed at my confidence, making me question whether love was truly meant for me or Jane.

I had used my feminine charms on men but they had rejected me. I had also tried to talk intelligently with some of them and ended up being threatened.

The one person I found to actually have a connection with just wanted to sleep with me.

It was absurd and I hated the medieval world.

"Are you okay, young lady?" A woman said beside me as I made my way to the palace. "I couldn't help but notice that you seem distressed. Is there anything I can do to help?"

Startled by her unexpected presence, I turned toward her voice. 

Her kind words brought a glimmer of hope to my weary heart. "Thank you for your concern," I replied, my voice filled with gratitude. "I am just trying to find my way back to the palace."

I could tell that her face was worried at how I was walking alone when I was blind and anything could happen to me on the streets.