Minnie.
It made Charles tired. Frankly, he didn’t care one whit
about conspiracies or threats to his life. He was already dying,
wasn’t he?
By the time he reached the end of the lane he was out of
breath, so he sat on the road and leaned back against a tree, the
wildflowers growing madly up to his chest. Everything hurt.
Sometimes he could ignore the pain, and sometimes the pain shut
out the rest of the world.
He was unsurprised when a woman, tall and beautiful, stopped
in front of him, a parasol shielding her from the sun.
“Hello, Charles,” she said, smiling sweetly.
He squinted up at her. “Constance, I presume?”
She laughed, a lower sound than he’d expected. “Delighted to
finally make your acquaintance. How are you?”
He shrugged. He didn’t feel threatened or scared. In fact, right
now, he felt nearly invincible. “Dying. You?”
She settled into the grass next to him, her skirts pooling out
around her. “Not dying.”
“I don’t suppose you’re going to be kidnapping me for nefarious
purposes right now? There are a couple of things I’d like to do
first, if you don’t mind.”
“By all means. We’re not ready yet. But you’re a remarkable
child, aren’t you?” She leaned closer, and Charles could see her face
clearly. She looked young, face unlined, but there was something
tired in her eyes. She reminded him of Alden in that way, that
strange sense that her youth was a lie. “I wonder. I think I could
offer you the moon and you’d politely turn me down.” She sighed
again, picking a flower and tucking it into his collar. “If we could
all find the peace you have, the world would be a better place.”