Mainly, that my new female companion appears quite at home in the wilderness. She navigates the treacherous landscape effortlessly and seems to have prior knowledge of the paths she takes. Rarely does she draw out a map or use a compass to guide her way.
It’s far from the first oddity.
She also likes to hide away from time to time, disappearing into camouflaged hollows in the ground, only to reappear days later.
Her days are mostly spent above ground, and she’s never more active than under the sun—hunting, fishing, or crossing countless miles of terrain on foot or on horseback. Her aim often seems to be to visit the settlements scattered throughout the countryside, but more often than not, once there, she chooses to linger at the edge, observing from afar rather than entering.
And I watch her while she watches them, attempting to ascertain what her true motives may be.
Some nights, when I can sense she’s fallen asleep, I chance getting closer. Close enough to get a better look at her. Not where she might sense my presence, but just enough to stand guard and occasionally catch sight of the steady rhythm of her breaths as I scan our surroundings for predators.
In the early hours of the morning, she reads. She keeps a collection of books with her, tucked away inside the saddlebags on her stallion.
She also builds fires with ease. Hunts with precision. And when the quiet stretches too long, she practices—twin blades flashing in controlled arcs as she moves through imagined battles, facing enemies only she can see.
In truth, I am enamored with her.
The realization comes on slowly, settling in after nearly a month of trailing her. Though she doesn’t know it, I am her silent companion as well. Saving her from dangers she will never be aware of.
My moods begin to rise and fall with hers, and I spend a great deal of time studying the shifts—searching for causes, for patterns—what stirs her from calm to unrest. From quiet contentment to anxiety-ridden.
I determine only that she is a complex riddle I have no chance of solving from afar, and these feelings grow as we head into a warmer climate.
Because the change begins then.
She changes.
The cloak is discarded, and awe and wonder grasp hold of me. I’m so distracted by the sight of her at first that I miss the nuances of change and write them off as nothing more than her having spent too long under the hot rays of the sun.
Because akin to the constellations of stars that have long held my attention—distant, unreachable, impossible to fully comprehend—so too is she.
Beautiful in a way that could stop a mortal man’s heart and snatch breath from their lungs.
Not only does her skin take on the hues of summer, but her lips flush with pink, and her hair—once an ashen white, a few shades lighter than my dulcet grey—darkens into a richer chestnut brown. Her freckles remain, but soften, becoming less stark, more natural, as though they belong to this version of her.
In truth, she transforms from a creature who could blend with the backdrop of winter to one at home among the alluring tones of autumn.
Even the way she carries herself shifts.
The lightness in her eyes drains out. And though I loved her alabaster skin and the cinnamon dots covering her opal cheeks, the sight of her in full bloom somehow shakes the foundations of my soul, confined as it is behind this facade of flesh and bone.
Somewhat concerning, though, is that it appears as if this change pains her in some way.
Her stealth and grace vanish overnight. Her once graceful movements become slow, stilted, and encumbered.
It’s as if the magic she once held recedes without notice.
Which leaves me fascinated, full of worry, and perplexed.
What is happening to her? Is she even aware of it? How is this possible? Who in the bloody hell is she—and what part does she play in what’s to come, if any?
I can’t get the answers to these great mysteries from watching her. I’ve tried and failed. Yet drawing closer risks exposing myself, and with it, my ability to remain her silent watcher.
And so, all at once, I realize the choice before me.
I can remain as I am, driven near mad with curiosity, and falling for a woman who has no idea of my existence…
Or I can let down my shield, step out of the shadows, and work to get the answers I seek from her pert and delicious mouth.
