Alina jumped as the door to the small cottage flew open and then slammed. Her father stormed in growling and muttering under his breath about stupid, high strung males.
“Is everything alright?” she asked him as she stood from the chair where she had been mending one of Serghei’s shirts.
Petre’s eyes snapped up to meet hers and widened slightly realizing that he had an audience. Alina took a step towards him and could smell the anger, fear, and worry flowing off of him.
“What has happened?” she asked and even as the question left her lips she felt a twinge of anxiety. But when she tried to reach for where it originated, it dissipated like fog rising as the cool morning air warmed.
“It is not anything you need to concern yourself with,” he told her in that infuriatingly placating tone th
