This is a submission for the magazine The First Line. I am required to use the first line they provide, but everything else is up for grabs. Let me know if you’d like to read the rest.
As the warrior guided his horse back home, she pondered what the future might hold. Sybille had plotted his seduction from the moment he arrived in their village, and now that he rode away, she had a deep longing to call him back. But she did not know his name.
Sybille brushed a strand of her golden hair, still sweat-damp, back from her face. Her hand traced a path down her face to her belly, resting above her womb. Would life quicken there?
She turned and went back into the tiny cottage she shared with her husband, Hans. If the warrior chanced to look back, she did not want to be standing in the doorway watching like a girl at a barn dance.