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“Spain will pay for its treachery, and someday soon I will have Francesca’s head,” James says fiercely, diverting my thoughts as he stares at one of the shadow drenched walls, lost in his plans.
“Let’s go to bed and talk about this more,” I tell him, giving him a soft kiss that brings a warm light to James’ eyes.
We gather up our clothes, slipping them on so we don’t have to walk down the hallways naked. As we leave the Throne Room, an unbidden shiver slides down my spine. It feels like someone is watching me.
We get into bed and James is immediately wrapped around me, ensconced in a deep sleep. I should be asleep, but what am I thinking about? How this feels too good to be true.
If I’ve learned anything throughout my life, it’s that good things don’t happen to me. It’s just a fact. I’ve always found my way forward despite that reality. But right now, I’m desperate for good things to continue. I’m back with James. He isn’t really married. Isabelle is going to know something about me that will help me reunite with my other lost loves.
Despite those things gloom folds over me like a thick blanket, and I have to poke my head free to breathe as I lay here. Pushing myself to take deep breaths, I focus on washing the fear away. Everything is going to be alright.
* * *
“I devourevery word you say, and even when you don’t speak, I listen to the secrets in your heart. The sun is the brightest star in the sky; you said you’d look for it and find me. Your search is over. I’m here, and I will never leave you. My love for you never sets; it hangs over the horizon and shines through the night. You will never be lost, and I’ll always be your home. There is no need to be afraid.”
Its Will’s voice saying these sweet things and when I open my eyes, I see him there, dressed in his soldier’s uniform as he was when I last saw him. I rush towards him and he scoops me up in his arms, swinging me around playfully.
I hook my arms around his neck. My fingers stroke into the luxury of his hair, threading through it as I work to slow my galloping heart. It’s always his eyes. They give him away; his voice didn’t waver, but they shine a reflection of my own emotion. I try hard to hold it in, but my chest hitches as the thoughts form.
“I pray every night to see you again,” I whisper as I kiss his lips, his cheek, and taste his chin as my tears start in earnest. “I will see you again.”
Feeling gives way to need, and I express how much he means to me with my kiss. And then it’s his turn. There are no words. It’s in the way he touches me, how he looks at me as if I’m everything. Like I am the light keeping him from the darkness.
“I’m not afraid because I know you’ll come,” he says. My Will. He is all-consuming in his kiss, as if he owns every inch of me. It’s in the clench of his fingers through mine, twined together in a grip so fierce I know he will never let me go, never let me fall apart and be broken. I am his—possessed by him and loved by him.
I wakeup unsettled and hot from my dream. I had dreamed of all of them over and over again, but the last few that I’ve had have seemed so real. It’s like I can feel Will’s hands on my body still.
James shifts in his sleep, letting out a small distressed moan that tells me he’s having a bad dream.
I stroke his hair softly to try and comfort him and he opens his eyes, pulling me against his chest possessively, so close I can feel his racing heart. “You were gone again,” he says in a pained voice. “You can’t ever leave again.”
I want to comfort him, but I don’t want to lie. His statement gives me an urgency to go see Isabelle today though. “There’s someone I need to talk to in town, someone that can help me,” I tell him, stroking along his lips.
He opens his mouth to object. “I wouldn’t do it if it wasn’t important. If it wasn’t maybe the most important thing I could do,” I tell him, pleading for him to understand me, to believe me.
He stares at me for a long moment and then he nods. “Take a guard with you, and don’t take long or I’ll come for you myself,” he says. I hug him tightly. I can feel how his body is shaking, how he’s scared for me...possibly of me and the effect I have on his life.
Some way or another he will have to believe my story, but I guess this counts as progress.
* * *
Jamesand I both get dressed side by side, savoring the intimacy of getting ready together. He cinches my scarlet dress together, one of the many that the seamstress girl, Mary, has miraculously managed to get tailored for me in the short time since I’ve been here. I laugh when he refuses to pull it as tight as I tell him it’s supposed to be, too afraid to hurt me.
“How do you think everyone’s waist looks so small in this age?” I say without thinking. James’ hands pause for a second and I realize my mistake in bringing up my story again. He turns me around so that I’m facing him.
“You haven’t told anyone else your story, right?” he asks, looking worried all of a sudden.
“No,” I say slowly.
“You must never utter anything about it in front of anyone else,” he says, slightly shaking me as if to enforce his words.
“I know,” I tell him reassuringly, trying to put him at ease.
“Before my Father died, he went through a manic stage where hundreds of women were burned at the stake for witchcraft. He still has his supporters everywhere. You can’t take any risks,” he tells me, his eyes showing more fear than I’ve ever seen.
“I’ll be careful,” I tell him, even as goosebumps rise up on my skin. James and I had been alone in here when I had first told him my story. Had I mentioned anything anywhere else? I couldn’t think of anywhere I had. “I promise,” I tell him, wanting his fear to go away.
He nods and lets go of me, but the mood is somber in the room while we finish getting ready.
