NovelKBC Chapter 261: Invited
Chapter 261: Invited
Chapter 261
KATYA POV
—Next day—
Light filtered through the curtains in thin, golden lines, warming my face before my mind fully caught up. I woke slowly, my eyes fluttering open, lashes heavy with sleep.
For a moment, I didn’t move. I didn’t even breathe deeply. I stayed very still, as if the wrong movement might summon something unwelcome, listening with a careful attention I’d learned long ago.
No knock.
No sharp footsteps outside the door.
No tension waiting to snap.
Only birds. Distant and soft. And the faint hush of a house that was already awake but not demanding anything from me.
That alone felt strange—almost unreal. My eyes opened properly, adjusting to the unfamiliar ceiling. Dark. Clean. Too elegant to be accidental.
It took a few seconds for memory to settle back into place—the room, the dinner, Nonna’s steady voice, Chiara’s grin that had refused to let me disappear into myself.
Italy.
I was here. And nothing bad had happened yet.
The thought made my chest tighten—not with fear exactly, but with caution. As if peace was something fragile, something that might shatter if I acknowledged it too loudly. I didn’t trust it yet. I didn’t trust how gentle the morning felt.
I turned my head slightly, the pillow cool beneath my cheek. The bed was wide—too wide for one person—the sheets tucked neatly around me, unwrinkled, untouched by restlessness. That’s when it hit me.
I had slept through the night.
No waking in the dark. No half-dreams clawing me back to consciousness. No counting the hours until morning like survival depended on it.
Just sleep.
My fingers curled slowly into the fabric near my waist, gripping it lightly, testing the moment like it might disappear if I loosened my hold. It didn’t. The room didn’t vanish. The quiet didn’t turn sharp.
Sunlight spilled across the floor near the window, dust motes drifting lazily through it. I watched them for a long time, mesmerized by how unhurried they were, how nothing seemed to be chasing them away.
Is this what mornings are supposed to feel like?
Quiet.
Gentle.
Unafraid.
I pushed myself up carefully, sitting on the edge of the bed. My feet touched the cool floor, grounding me. I half-expected the room to feel heavy again—watchful, tense, like it had the night before.
It didn’t.
It felt... neutral. Accepting. Like it was finally allowing me to exist in it without resistance. I glanced around, taking things in more slowly this time—the desk, the curtains, the closed door.
Everything was the same, yet something had shifted.
Maybe it was me.
A soft knock sounded.
I froze instinctively, my spine stiffening before my mind could catch up. Then the knock came again, lighter this time.
"Katya?" Chiara’s voice, muffled through the door. "You awake, or should I dramatically throw myself against the door to check?"
My shoulders loosened before I could stop them from doing so, the tension slipping out of me in a way that surprised me. "I’m awake," I said, my voice still rough with sleep.
"Good," she replied brightly. "Because if you weren’t, I’d still come in. Fair warning."
The door opened and Chiara slipped inside with her usual energy—hair slightly messy, confidence effortless, like she belonged everywhere she stood.
She was dressed in a deep blue tank top that clung comfortably to her frame, leaving her toned stomach bare, her skin warm and sun-kissed even this early.
A pair of messy-looking jean shorts sat low on her hips, stopping just below her butt, casual and unapologetic.
I stared.
The sight hit me harder than I expected. Not because it was inappropriate—Chiara carried it like it was the most natural thing in the world—but because of how comfortable she looked.
How unbothered. How free.
I glanced down at myself without meaning to. Oversized sleep shirt. Bare legs. No effort. No intention.
Would I ever be able to wear something like that? The thought slipped in quietly, unwelcome and sharp. Would I ever feel that confident in my own skin? That unafraid of being seen?
She stopped short when she noticed me staring. "Hey," she said, softer now, her tone shifting immediately.
"Hi," I replied.
She smiled, then lifted a small bag she’d been hiding behind her back, shaking it once like it was a secret.
"What’s that?" I asked, curiosity nudging past my lingering fog.
She only giggled brightly, eyes dancing.
"Up."
I blinked. "Up?"
"Yes. Up," she repeated, already moving toward me. "As in—out of bed, Katya. Now."
I frowned slightly, pushing myself to my feet anyway. "Why? Are we going somewhere?" A small knot of worry tightened in my chest, familiar and unwelcome. "Did I miss something? Is something happening?"
Chiara laughed, light and airy. "Relax. Nothing bad. Nothing scary. Just—" she waved her hand vaguely, dropping the bag onto the bed, "—a day. A proper one."
She grabbed my hand and tugged me fully upright, then circled me once, inspecting like she was checking if I was physically fit for whatever she had planned.
"I’m confused," I admitted honestly, my voice quiet. "Do I need to be ready for something?"
"Yes," she said immediately. Then she grinned. "But I’m not telling you what."
Before I could protest, she took my shoulders and gently—but firmly—steered me toward the bathroom door. "Go. Take a bath. A long one. Hot water. No rushing."
I stumbled a step, startled. "Chiara—"
"Go, go," she insisted, opening the bathroom door and ushering me inside. "The maids already came in earlier. Everything’s set. Towels, soaps. You don’t even have to think."
I paused just inside the doorway, the breath catching in my throat all over again. The bathroom was beautiful—marble floors cool beneath my feet, a deep tub waiting, sunlight spilling in through a frosted window like it belonged there.
Everything looked untouched. Prepared. Waiting.
"They... arranged my things?" I asked quietly, the words barely louder than a thought.
"Mm-hmm," Chiara said, leaning against the doorframe. "Nonna’s orders. Don’t panic. They didn’t snoop. They just... helped."
I nodded slowly, fingers curling into the sleeve of my sleep shirt. Help still felt like a strange concept when it came without conditions. Without debt.
Chiara noticed. "Hey," she said gently. "This isn’t a test. No one’s watching you. Just take the bath."
I hesitated. "And after?"
She smiled again, mischievous now. "After, you’ll eat breakfast. And then...." she pointed at me, eyes sparkling, "...we’ll see."
She stepped back, already turning away. "I’ll be outside. Don’t take forever, but also...take forever. You know?"
"I... don’t," I admitted.
She laughed. "You will."
The door closed softly behind her, leaving me alone in the quiet, sunlit space.
I stood there for a moment, heart steady, listening to the faint sounds of the house beyond the walls—life moving on without urgency, without threat.
Then I reached for the tub, turning the water on. Steam began to rise, warm and forgiving, wrapping around me like an invitation rather than a command.
For once, I didn’t feel like I was being rushed toward something I wasn’t ready for.
I felt like I was being invited.