"BLONDE LIKE HONEY"

Aurora couldn't sleep. The weight of the revelations, the weight of betrayal, still lingered in her mind. Instead of surrendering to fatigue, an idea began to form, growing like a flame in her heart. She needed to escape. She needed to distance herself from everything around her, the opulence of the mansion, the masks people wore, the future that seemed to have been mapped out for her.

In the dead of night, Aurora rose from her bed and went to her wardrobe. Instead of donning an elegant gown, as she would on any other occasion, she chose a simple peasant dress that had been tucked away at the bottom of the trunk. A modest skirt, a plain linen blouse, and a rustic shawl. She tied her hair up with a simple headscarf, concealing its length and colour. She looked at herself in the mirror for a moment. The woman reflected back was strange yet familiar. She was the person she used to be, before the luxuries and the facade of her current life.

Aurora knew that by doing this, she was stepping away from everything Friedrich represented and the life she had been forced to lead. She longed, in some way, to return to simplicity, to what was genuine. She needed anonymity, freedom, the youth without masks. She took a deep breath and slipped out through the back door, sneaking across the estate, unseen by the servants.

As she stepped onto the streets of London, the contrast was stark. The cobbled streets were bathed in the soft light of gas lamps, casting a faint but warm glow. The sound of carriages and wheels on the stones echoed through the cold night air, mingling with the distant hum of the city, which never truly slept. The smell of burning coal and food from the taverns mixed together, creating a unique atmosphere, almost nostalgic. London, in the early 19th century, was a city of contrasts: the opulence of the wealthy districts and the raw poverty of the central streets, where the struggle for survival was a constant.

Aurora walked along the narrow streets, the gas lamps flickering as she passed, the cold breeze making her peasant dress flutter around her legs. She passed a busy street where a market was already forming, despite the late hour. The sound of voices, of vendors calling out their wares, mixed with the hurried steps of people going back and forth. The smell of freshly baked bread and exotic fruits was tempting. She allowed herself to savour the moment of anonymity, of freedom. This was real. This was her.

Soon, she came across a large celebration in the central square. The joyful music of violins and flutes floated in the air, mixed with the laughter of young people dancing in the middle of the street. The gas lamps formed a golden circle around the crowd, and the sounds of the party spread out between the brick houses and the narrow shops. Aurora stopped for a moment, watching the people, drawn to the energy of the celebration. It was something simple, something unpretentious, where joy and freedom were tangible. The pressure of her former life seemed to disappear in the fresh night air.

She mingled with the crowd, letting herself be swept up in the music and the movement of the dances. It was a simple celebration, with people of all ages and social classes, laughing and dancing as if the world outside didn't exist. The atmosphere was festive, yet there was something genuine about it. Aurora danced to the music, no longer concerned with her posture or the expectations she had carried until now.

It was then that, in the midst of the dance, she felt a hand on her arm, pulling her roughly. She looked at the man who had grabbed her, a perverse smile on his lips. His eyes were clouded with drink, and he seemed more interested in taking advantage of her vulnerability than in dancing.

"Ah, how lovely," he murmured, trying to pull her into a dark corner of the square.

Aurora tried to break free, but the man wouldn't let go. Her heart began to race, and fear crept into her body. She tried to scream, but the music drowned out her voice, and no one seemed to notice the situation.

Then, from the middle of the crowd, appeared a figure. A tall man, with simple features, his face partially illuminated by the light from the lamps. He moved quickly, calmly, and with a swift, precise motion, shoved the aggressor away.

"Let her go," he said firmly, his voice full of authority.

The man, startled, hesitated for a moment, but seeing the firmness and determination in the stranger's eyes, he retreated. "She's worth nothing," he muttered before disappearing into the crowd.

Aurora looked at the man who had saved her. His eyes, a deep blue, reflected the intensity of the situation, and there was something in them that she couldn't quite identify. He was dressed simply, in peasant clothes, but his posture suggested someone who had lived much more than his appearance let on.

"Are you alright?" he asked softly, his voice full of genuine concern.

Aurora, still stunned, took a deep breath, feeling the relief wash over her. "Yes… yes, I'm fine. Thank you."

The man studied her for a moment, his gaze attentive. "This isn't a place for you, miss," he said, looking around with some distrust. "Fairs like this can be dangerous."

Aurora felt a mix of embarrassment and gratitude. She smiled, still a little nervous. "I just… needed a moment to escape."

He nodded slowly. "I understand. Come, I'll take you to the main street. It's not safe to stay here alone."

As he guided her through the square, Aurora felt something different. He wasn't looking at her with curiosity or judgment, but with a quiet kindness, a silent understanding of something she didn't yet fully grasp. He was a simple man, from humble origins, but there was something in his gaze that made Aurora feel seen in a way few people managed.

As they walked down the street, Aurora knew that somehow, meeting this man would change something within her. She didn't know yet what the future held, but in that moment, she felt she had taken an important step away from the weight she had been carrying.

With him by her side, she no longer felt so lost.