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storyteller

The days unfolded in a busy and intense routine at the castle. From dawn to dusk, I found myself immersed in a succession of tasks and responsibilities that demanded all my attention and skill. The castle kitchen was a whirlwind of activity, with chefs and helpers running back and forth, preparing banquets and meals for the royalty and their guests.

Despite the fatigue accumulating in my muscles and the exhaustion weighing on my eyes, I strove to keep my mind busy and focused on the present. With each precise cut, with each elaborate dish, I devoted myself wholeheartedly to my new life, trying to find some joy and satisfaction in the small victories and moments of camaraderie with my coworkers.

Bethany became a constant and comforting presence in my life at the castle. Her stories and lively conversations were a welcome relief from the long and stressful workdays. She told me more about the kingdom, its culture, and traditions, and I shared with her the wonders and peculiarities of my life in New York; our laughter and exchange of experiences became a balm for the homesickness I felt.

However, even with all the hustle and camaraderie, there were moments when the reality of my situation crept into my thoughts, making my heart ache with longing and uncertainty. Amidst the bustle of the kitchen and shared laughter, I often found myself lost in thought, yearning for the comfort and familiarity of my home, wondering when or if I would ever find a way back.

But as challenging as it was, I refused to let anxiety and uncertainty take hold of me. Every day, I found the strength to move forward, seeking comfort in the small joys and human connections I found at the castle, hoping that, with time, I would find a way to return to the place I called home.

In one of those rare moments of pause in the bustling castle kitchen, a wave of nostalgia washed over me. With a shy smile, I began to retell the classic story of "Beauty and the Beast."

"— Have you all heard of Beauty and the Beast?" I asked, looking around to see the curious and eager faces of my colleagues. "It's a story that has always enchanted me."

The murmurs ceased, and quickly all eyes were fixed on me, shining with interest and curiosity.

"— Imagine a quiet village where everyone knows each other," I continued, engaging everyone with my excited voice and expressive gestures. "And there lives a young woman named Beauty, who loves to read and dream of adventures."

A young kitchen helper, with agile hands and a dreamy look, gently interrupted: "— And the Beast, what is he like?"

"— Ah, the Beast!" I exclaimed, excitedly. "The Beast is a mysterious creature, trapped in an enchanted castle because of a curse. He is feared by all for his frightening appearance, but deep down, he has a kind heart."

An older woman, with gray hair and a wise look, added: "— And how do Beauty and the Beast meet?"

"— Well, Beauty ends up in the Beast's castle through a strange twist of fate, trading her freedom for her father's. There, she discovers that behind the frightening appearance, there is a gentle soul and a true love that can break the curse," I explained, weaving the details of the story with enthusiasm.

As I continued the narrative, the atmosphere in the kitchen transformed. Laughter, sighs, and approving applause filled the space, and I felt increasingly connected with my colleagues, sharing the timeless magic of a well-told story.

Those storytelling sessions became a precious moment of unity and escapism for all of us in the castle kitchen. During our brief breaks, I became the official storyteller, transporting everyone to worlds of fantasy and adventure, where the worries and fatigue of daily life were left behind.

Sitting in the village square, I felt the gentle breeze caress my face as I watched the children approach, forming a circle around me. Their faces were lit up by eager smiles and sparkling eyes full of anticipation. The air was charged with infectious energy, and I could feel the magic that the stories evoked in each of them.

"— Aunt Amelia, are you going to tell a story today?" asked Miguel, a boy with curly hair and freckles on his face, looking at me with curiosity.

"— Of course, Miguel!" I replied with a warm smile, feeling flattered by the affectionate nickname the children had given me. "Today, I will tell the story of 'Peter Pan and Neverland.' You'll love it!"

The children applauded excitedly, their faces lighting up even more at the promise of a new imaginary adventure. I began to tell the story, letting myself be carried away by the magic of the words and the emotion of the characters.

"— Once upon a time, in a distant land..." I began, and the children's eyes fixed on me, each absorbing every word, every emotion, as if they were being transported to Neverland with Peter Pan, Wendy, and their friends.

As the story unfolded, I felt connected to each child, realizing how words could create entire worlds, filled with adventures, magic, and endless possibilities. The expressions on their faces reflected the surprise, enchantment, and joy that only a good story can provide.

At the end of the story, the children applauded enthusiastically, their faces glowing with radiant smiles and eyes full of admiration and gratitude.

"— Thank you, Aunt Amelia! That was the best story ever!" exclaimed Sofia, a little girl with black hair and bright eyes, hugging me warmly.

"— I'm glad you enjoyed it, my dears!" I replied, feeling my heart overflowing with joy and gratitude. "You are the reason why I love telling stories. They have the power to transport us to magical places and connect us with the best of ourselves and others."

As the children got up and dispersed, carrying with them the memories and lessons from the stories we shared, I felt deeply grateful for the opportunity to touch their lives in such a special way. The magic of the stories had created bonds of friendship and admiration among us, making me an integral part of that welcoming and enchanting community.

As I watched the children disperse after another afternoon of enchanting stories, my gaze caught the imposing figure of Antony in the distance. From the moment I set foot in this mysterious village, he had always been present, a vigilant shadow silently following me, his gray eyes fixed on me as if deciphering a puzzle.

"— Looks like you've attracted a secret admirer, Aunt Amelia!" joked Bethany, appearing beside me and following my gaze towards Antony.

"— He seems more like a bodyguard than an admirer!" I replied with a smile, trying to ignore the discomfort his presence always caused me.

"— Don't underestimate his interest in you. Antony takes his role as the protector of this village very seriously, and any newcomer that arrives here catches his attention." Bethany observed seriously, her brows furrowed in concern.

"— I understand, Bethany. I know he's just doing his job, protecting the villagers." I murmured, my mind revisiting the moments when I felt intimidated by his constant presence.

Antony remained in the same spot, his posture rigid and his expression serious, radiating an aura of determination and vigilance. I knew he had the responsibility to ensure the safety and well-being of the village, and I couldn't blame him for acting cautiously towards an outsider like me.

"— Let's go, Amelia. We don't want to keep him busy with our conversations, right?" suggested Bethany, starting to walk away towards her house.

I nodded in agreement, feeling grateful for her company and relieved to leave behind Antony's imposing presence, at least for now. As I followed Bethany through the village streets, I couldn't help but wonder what was going on in that man's mind.

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