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She looked at it with longing but shook her head. “No. There must be something else.”

“Maiden, winter is not a good time to be picky in the wilderness.”

Her stomach grumbled loudly, and she grimaced.

“Your body agrees,” he said.

“Well, my body is only one part of the system. My spirit will thank it later. I haven’t done yoga for what feels like a thousand years.” She sniffed under her tunic and wrinkled her nose. “God, I’d do anything for a hot shower,” she mumbled to herself. “I’m going to go into the woods and do yoga, okay?”

He frowned at first, not entirely sure what her words meant, then he remembered that yoga was some sort of training she taught.

“Do not go far,” he said.

She raised her eyebrows, and Andor realized he had slipped.

“If you get attacked, I do not want to have to waste time looking for your body before resuming the journey,” he explained, although he winced internally at the cruelness of his own words.

She rolled her eyes and walked away.

Andor had to admit, he was curious about that “yoga.” When he finished his breakfast, he decided to watch her do it. Maybe it would shed some light on where the madwoman had really come from and why she was lying to him.

He followed her tracks down the slope as softly as he could manage with his bad leg. The burbling of water met his ears soon, and after a while he saw Cathy by a stream.

She was, indeed, doing something. Her cloak lay next to her on the ground, and she did a series of movements that resembled— The closest thing he could think of was a witch’s dance. She glided from position to position, every movement precise and graceful, as though she drew runes in the air with her body. Body straight, arms up in the air, then down, touching the ground so that her legs and her torso came together in two lines. How did she manage to keep her legs so straight? Then up again, with her arms wide like the wings of a bird—then shooting them into the sky like two spears.

She went on, lowering herself, stretching her legs, crouching, over and over again in a mesmerizing flux. She flowed and yet her muscles were toned and energized. Andor lost himself watching her. Calmness he had not felt in a long time enveloped him.

The last time he had experienced it was when Svana had been alive and she had lain in his arms in their bed.

Too soon, Cathy stopped and sat on the ground with her legs crossed, her palms together in front of her chest, eyes closed. Andor watched her sit like this for a long time. When she finally opened her eyes, her face was so calm and so relaxed, joyous even, that he felt a sting of jealousy.

Joy like that was not possible for him.

He was about to turn around and walk back to the fire when she began undressing herself.

She undid the belt and pulled the tunic over her head. Underneath it was something he had never seen before—some sort of black undergarment that clung to her like a second skin, highlighting every curve.

Then off came the baggy trousers and she was left in a smaller black undergarment that reminded him of very short trousers, which hugged her thighs. She removed the shoes, too, and then the woolen socks, and stood before the stream, steam rising slowly and rhythmically from her mouth.

It was a warm day but still the middle of winter, and he admired Cathy’s readiness to enter the icy cold water.

If he thought she looked beautiful with a man’s baggy clothes on, now with almost nothing to cover her body, she took Andor’s breath away. Long legs, a thin waist, beautiful curved hips, a gorgeous round arse that made his hands itch to grab and massage it. Full breasts just the right size and form to make a man forget everything else around him.

Then she removed the top and he saw the soft side of her breast. Off came her short trousers, and the sight of her naked behind woke an animal-like need within him. Her body was both sculpted and soft. Beneath the curves were clearly strong muscles. Her skin was flawless, and it looked like it would be the softest thing he’d ever touched. The sight both tortured and pleased him, and his eyes stayed glued to her.

She let her hair fall loose down her back before moving towards the water. Without a peep, she walked into the slow flowing stream. She went completely under, then emerged and began washing herself. This was what a goddess or a Valkyrie or a princess must look like. Beautiful, graceful, peaceful, like a part of nature itself.

Andor watched, enthralled.

Soon, she turned back and moved towards the grassy bank, and Andor forgot to hide behind a tree. Their eyes locked, and time stood still. The water only came up to the middle of her thighs. The skin of her breasts, stomach, and hips were reddened from cold. He became aware of his hot, swelling erection but could do nothing about it.

Her eyes widened in surprise, her face pink from embarrassment. Surprisingly, she did not cover herself. But whatever she was thinking right now, there was no rejection in her eyes or her face. In fact, her lips parted, her nipples hardened even more, and her gray eyes darkened.

If he took one more step towards her, they would come together, right here, right now.

Both of them waited for the other to move.

No.