“I thought you said the point was to balance out our karma.” I frown, struggling to make sense of it all.
He nods, gaze patient and kind. “We develop our karma by the choices we make, by how quickly—or slowly—we learn what really matters in the world—how swiftly we can succumb to the real reason we’re here.”
“And what’s that?” I ask, my mind still adrift. “The real reason, I mean?”
“To love each other.” He shrugs. “No more, no less. It sounds simple enough, as though it should be rather easy to do. But one good look at our history, including the history you just saw, and I think it becomes clear what a difficult lesson that is for so many.”
“So, you were trying to shield me from this?” I ask, my curiosity starting to niggle at me. Part of me wanting to see more, to see how she/I got through it—and part of me knowing that anyone who learned to withstand a beating like that, with such silence and dignity, had already lived through far too many of them.
“Despite what you saw, I want you to know that there were bright spots for sure. You were so beautiful, so radiant, and once I managed to get you away from all that—”
“Wait—you rescued me?” I gaze at him, eyes wide, as though I’m looking upon my very own Prince Charming. “You had me freed?”
“In a manner of speaking…” He nods, but his gaze wavers, his voice goes tight, and it’s obvious he’s more than ready to move away from all this.
“And, were we…happy?” I ask, needing to hear it from him. “I mean, really and truly happy?”
He nods. Giving me a quick lowering and rising of his head, but it’s all that he gives.
“Until Drina killed me,” I say, filling in the parts he’s unwilling to share. It was always she who hastened my death, so why would a slave life be any different? Noting the way his face goes grim, and his hands begin to fidget, but still choosing to press ahead when I add, “So, tell me, how’d she do it this time? Did she push me in front of a carriage—throw me off a cliff—drown me in a lake—or did she try something totally new and different?”
He meets my gaze, obviously preferring not to answer, but correctly assuming I won’t give up until I hear it from him, he says, “All you need to know is that she never repeated herself.” He sighs, face solemn and grave. “Probably because she enjoyed it too much, enjoyed thinking up inventive, new ways.” He winces. “And I suppose she
didn’t want me to get suspicious. But listen, Ever, even though what you saw was unbelievably tragic, in the end, I loved you, and you loved me, and it was wonderful and glorious for as long as it lasted.”
I look away, determined to absorb it, to take it all in. But it’s a lot. Too much for right now, that’s for sure.
“So, will you show me someday?” I face him again.
Seeing the promise in his gaze when he looks at me and says, “Yes, but first give me some time to edit it, okay?”
I nod, seeing the way his shoulders droop, the way his jaw loosens, and knowing that that was pretty much as hard for him as it was for me.
“But for now, what do you say no more surprises? Why don’t we go somewhere happier—better—funner, if you will?”
I sit there for a moment, feeling so alone with my thoughts it’s as though he’s not there.
Soon roused by the sound of his voice at my ear, saying, “Hey look, they’re getting to the good part—what do you say we become them?”
My gaze switches to the screen, where a very different version of me smiles radiantly. My glossy, dark hair sparkling with a collection of pins and jewels made specifically to match my beautiful, hand-sewn, emerald green dress. Seeing the way I hold myself with such confidence—so sure of my beauty, my privilege, my right to dream all I want, to obtain all I want, to claim anyone I want—including this dark, handsome stranger I’ve only just met.
The one who makes the whole string of suitors I left back inside seem dreadfully dull in comparison.
A version of me that’s so opposite to the one I just saw a moment ago it hardly makes sense. And even though I’m determined to revisit that other me again soon, for now it can wait.
We came here to have a last bit of summer fun, and I’m going to make sure that we do.
Our hands clasped together, we rise from the couch and head for the screen, not stopping until we merge and meld, and become one with the scene.
My Parisian dress instantly replaced by an emerald green gown made especially for me, my lips nipping at the hard edge of Damen’s jaw, flirting, teasing with the tip of my tongue, before spinning on my heel, lifting my skirts, and leading him deeper and deeper into the darkest part of the garden, to a place where no one can find us—not my father, not the servants, not my suitors, not my friends…
Wanting nothing more than to kiss this dark and handsome stranger, who always seems to appear out of nowhere, who always seems to know what I’m thinking, who thrilled me with his tingle and heat from the very first look.
The very first moment he peered into my soul.
three
“Shouldn’t you be thinking about leaving for school soon?”