The Cave Princess - Chapter 2

When Johanna built her father’s grave, she realized she was truly alone.

It was just the absence of one person, but the cabin felt unbearably silent. Sitting on a tilted tree stump, she was suddenly reminded of the bustling scenes of the village, and an unexpected chill ran through her.

Feeling lonely amused Johanna. It was a feeling she wasn’t used to. Since the moment she could remember, she had always lived here, alone with her father.

The only people she could meet were the villagers, but even that required her to beg her father to take her to the village—something he rarely allowed.

The first time she saw the village, it was like discovering a new world.

People who casually held hands and threw their arms around each other’s shoulders made her realize how empty her life was.

Johanna believed her father cherished her, but he wasn’t as doting as the parents in the village were to their children.

When she succeeded in her first rabbit hunt, her father behaved as if he had merely fulfilled his duty. She was ten years old at the time.

Perhaps it was confidence in his reputation as a hunter, or perhaps he felt this was just the bare minimum she should achieve. Johanna found herself working hard not to betray his expectations.

By the time she was fifteen, as her father had hoped, Johanna was already an excellent hunter. But she was inexperienced in cooking and didn’t know how to repair the roof properly.

Now, with her father gone, she would have to learn to live alone.

And also, how to endure the loneliness of being by herself.

* * *

After her father’s death, Johanna lived alone in the cabin, hunting, cooking meals, and chopping firewood.

Day after day passed in a monotonous rhythm, until one winter when she was seventeen, the bitter cold set in.

She fell gravely ill with a severe fever.

For a week, she was bedridden, burning with sickness. Then, as if it had all been a lie, she suddenly recovered and stood up. She tilted her head in confusion at the strange feeling of freshness that washed over her.

Crunch, crunch.

Opening the cabin door, she squinted against the sunlight streaming down. The warm rays settled on her pale skin, soft and light.

Blinking, Johanna looked at her arms—so translucent that the veins beneath were visible.

Was it just growing pains?

She had changed.

* * *

For the first time in a long while, Johanna ventured down to the human village. Her cheeks stung under the weight of countless gazes. She half-covered her face with a gloved hand and quickened her steps.

Why are they staring at me so much?

She was used to being watched, but not with kindness. It was always the gaze of rejection.

The gloomy hunter and his daughter who lived deep in the mountains—now reduced to just the lone hunter girl. People found her unsettling rather than pitiable.

Johanna, accustomed to such looks, found it harder to stay composed today. Her sharp instincts picked up on the strange atmosphere hanging in the air.

Distracted by her thoughts and her surroundings, she accidentally bumped shoulders with someone coming out of her blind spot.

“Ow!”

“Oh, I’m sorry, miss.”

Expecting to be berated, Johanna widened her eyes in surprise.

“Miss?”

The middle-aged man in worn clothes looked at her curiously, his gaze warm despite the passing years. Johanna swallowed hard.

This man didn’t hate her. Even after she’d collided with him, he didn’t seem upset.

That’s when Johanna realized something was different.

For the first time, she was on the receiving end of a friendly gaze.

Ah, they don’t know I’m the hunter girl.

The villagers weren’t equating her with the grim, solitary girl they once knew.

The feeling was strange.

How long would it take for them to figure out who she was? It felt like at any moment someone would exclaim, “So it’s you!” and their expressions would change. She avoided eye contact and walked quickly.

At the fruit shop, things became even more bewildering.

“I’ve never seen you before…”

The suspicious look made her heart sink—had she finally been found out?

“Oh! They said a merchant caravan arrived in the central village yesterday. Are you traveling with them?”

Without saying a word, Johanna watched as the shopkeeper leaped to conclusions, much to her relief.

“You’re a pretty young lady, so I’m giving you extra. Did you hunt this rabbit on the way here? It’s good quality. If you have more, bring them next time. I’ll make sure you get the freshest fruit.”

Johanna left the fruit shop in a daze.

With just three rabbits, she had walked away with two baskets of apples—twice as much as she usually received.

Extra, because I’m… pretty?

She didn’t know what expression to make at the shopkeeper’s cheerful smile, so unlike the begrudging one she had grown used to.

It felt strange.

She placed a hand over her chest to calm the unsettled, fluttering sensation inside. The uneasy excitement made her want to leave the village as quickly as possible.

They mustn’t find out she was that hunter girl.

Hurriedly, she returned to the mountains, even leaving behind some of the items she had meant to purchase.

Her feet halted as she passed the outskirts of the village, near a logging site.

There, a young man was chopping wood, his upper body bare.

Sweat rolled down his well-toned torso, and with each swing of the axe, veins bulged along his muscular arms, hardened by labor.

His soft brown hair glistened under the sun, and perched on his nose was a rare sight in such a remote village—an elegant monocle, which gave him a refined and almost out-of-place air.

She stood there, staring at him endlessly, forgetting even the fact that she needed to hurry back.

“He must be helping the woodcutter today.”

Johanna knew that young man.

Valenta.

The son of the village chief and the one destined to become the next leader of the village.

To Johanna, he was forever etched in her memory as the boy with a radiant smile.

It wasn’t uncommon for a lonely girl to admire the lively children who ran and played freely in the village.

Valenta had been one of those mischievous boys—a natural leader among the village kids.

With a driven personality, natural charisma, and an ability to persuade others, Valenta had led with charm and warmth, even embracing the outcasts. His kindness was enough to inspire not only his peers but also a lonely girl who longed for human connection.

So much so that Johanna had once begged her father to let her visit the village. For what? She knew the answer too well.

Something swelled within her chest as she watched him now.

The Valenta she hadn’t seen in years was still dazzling and striking. Her heart, hardened by years of hunting and killing game without hesitation, now pounded uncontrollably.

She remembered his kindness—the boy who had once offered sweet candy to the hunter girl everyone avoided.

But would Valenta still recognize her as that girl, even after how much she had changed?

The way the villagers now treated her didn’t bring her pure joy. Johanna found it difficult to control her emotions.

She didn’t want Valenta to fail to recognize her and treat her kindly as a stranger. But at the same time, she didn’t want to see the polite, perfunctory smile he might offer if he remembered her as the hunter girl.

What was it that she truly wanted?

“I don’t even know.”

One thing was certain: she didn’t want to see him right now. She didn’t have the courage to face him.

The moment she abruptly turned to leave, she collided with a boy who had been running toward her from the opposite direction.

In that fleeting moment, her sharp vision recognized him—it was Valenta’s younger brother.

Instead of grabbing the apples tumbling to the ground, Johanna instinctively reached out to steady the boy, who nearly fell backward.

Her slender-looking arms tensed as firm muscles rippled beneath her skin, holding him upright.

The boy, now cradled in Johanna’s arms, looked up at her with a dazed expression. Though he was broad-shouldered and strong, Johanna had only stumbled slightly when they collided.

“Uh… thank you?”

The boy mumbled absentmindedly, his gaze inadvertently falling to Johanna’s chest. His face turned bright red.

He radiated youthful energy, so lively he reminded Johanna of a younger Valenta. The resemblance brought an involuntary smile to her lips.

She helped him steady himself on his feet, but a warm voice suddenly sounded from behind.

“Bardo! Are you okay?”

Johanna froze, her back to the voice. Her finely tuned senses told her that Valenta was close—so close that she could feel the heaviness of his breathing, likely from rushing over in alarm.

“You need to watch where you’re running! You’re still as reckless as ever. I’m sorry, my little brother can be quite thoughtless.”

After scolding Bardo, Valenta directed his apology toward Johanna. His polite tone sent a jolt through her chest, and her heart pounded like a drum.

“I-it’s fine.”

Without turning around, Johanna hurriedly started walking away.

“Wait!”

She stopped abruptly, unable to ignore him. She stood there, back turned, unmoving. The sound of rustling, followed by steady footsteps, told her he was coming closer.

“You dropped this.”

Oh, the fruit.

She stifled a groan.

“Thank you.”

Johanna extended her arm to snatch the basket of fruit from him, her actions abrupt enough to make him blink in surprise.

Inside, she cursed herself. Valenta had always been kind.

Even as children, when she watched the other village kids play from a distance, he had reached out to her more than once. But she had always run away, afraid of his warm, inviting hands.

Now was no different.

She stole a quick glance at his large hand as he drew it back after handing over the basket. A wave of regret constricted her chest like a trap.

She wanted to face him, to talk to him, the desire swelling inside her like boiling oil. But layer upon layer of unease and fear held her back.

“Well then, goodbye,” she said hastily.

“Wait.”

She tried to leave quickly, but he caught her wrist. Johanna froze, her legs stiffening as if rooted to the ground.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to grab you like that.”

He let go almost immediately, but Johanna couldn’t move.

Her wrist, now free, felt like it was burning with awareness. She wanted desperately to look at her hand, even though she knew there’d be nothing there. She even fought the irrational urge to sniff it, as though his touch might have left some trace.

Behind her, his deep, pleasant voice called out again, stopping her restless thoughts.

“I just thought you might be someone I know.”

Her heart felt like it might burst through her ribcage.

Her expression twisted as memories of the villagers flashed through her mind—their disdainful, suspicious faces.

They hadn’t recognized her today. It was only natural. She had changed a little, sure, but more importantly, they had never cared enough to look closely at her in the first place.

All they knew was that she was the strange, unsettling hunter who lived deep in the woods. That was all that mattered to them, and Johanna understood that now.

But what about Valenta?

Johanna’s jaw twitched. She wanted to turn around, unsure whether she wanted him to recognize her or not. The confusion was unfamiliar to someone like her, who had always done only what needed to be done with dry, unflinching resolve.

As she wavered, debating whether to retreat to the mountains, her eyes widened when a shadow fell across her path.