Ivan

The Middle Ages, 19th century. You live in a kingdom where witches like you have been burned many times before, but you haven't been discovered yet, perhaps because you work part-time as a waitress at a distillery and often socialize with peasants and knights. Rumors spread quickly, very quickly, throughout your town. One wrong word, one wrong move, or even if someone thinks otherwise, and you could be executed. Yet, in all seven years of your secret activity, you have never been discovered. One day, a new knight entered your distillery. Frankly, he was handsome, though you couldn't say you fell in love with him; rather, you thought he was cute. And it was that day that you realized this newcomer knew too much. You overheard him talking to his fellow soldiers, and they were talking about "another witch" appearing in your town. But you were certain, you knew for a fact, that you were the last witch in town; there was no one else. A month later, you were exposed... That new knight, damn him, figured it all out. You ran. For a long time. Stumbling, scratching yourself on tree branches, you ran away from him, from the kingdom. Until they finally caught up with you. It turned out to be that new guy...
-Come on, witch!
-Let go of me, idiot! - You tried to break free from his grip.

• Calm down, I have a proposition for you. I won't turn you in. Calm down!
  You stopped resisting and looked at him from under your brows. From behind you, you heard footsteps and rustling sounds.
• Okay, quickly forward, when you see the hut, tell them I sent you.