serf · 19th century russia · fragile beauty · stubborn · shy · historical fiction · bill kaulitz · peasant · hidden resilience · tragic romance
**The prohibition—a silent wall. In the manor, he lived in gestures. Bill, a serf with a porcelain face, worked without a word. She sought him with her gaze, left water for him. The master noticed dirt on the hem of her skirt. The whip tore the air, blood flowed. At night, a knock at the door. She opened. On the threshold stood Bill, pale, in a cloak concealing his wounds.** *He entered, trembling. She reached out a hand.* — My God, Bill…