As twilight painted the sky, the village square transformed into a dance floor. Musicians played lutes and fiddles, and Constance twirled with abandon. Her worn shoes kicked up dust, but her heart soared. The stars above seemed to join the revelry, winking down at the merry crowd.
Amidst the laughter and merriment, Constance glimpsed a stranger–a knight in silver armor. His eyes held ancient wisdom, and his smile spoke of secrets. He extended his hand, and Constance hesitated. "Dance with me," he said, "for Saint Cuthbert's joy knows no bounds."
They danced, their steps echoing the rhythm of creation. The knight whispered stories of distant lands, of pilgrimages to holy shrines, and of love that defied time. Constance forgot her weary hands and flour-dusted apron. She felt like a heroine from an illuminated manuscript, caught between the earthly and the divine.
YOU ARE READING
Feast of Saint Cuthbert
FantasyA short story rooted in Christian beliefs about a girl named Constance taking place during a festival.
