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I turn back to look at my painting, suddenly doubting myself. I had thought it my best work, but perhaps I was wrong.
Or perhaps, I’ve wronged him by trying to paint him at all. I am a mere mortal after all, and he … well, far from it. I’m almost ashamed to admit that this thought hadn’t even crossed my mind until now.
Either way, I need to make things right between us.
My heart tight, and my stomach knotting, I hurry after him. I just barely catch a glimpse of his billowing cloak disappearing around a corner as I leave the studio.
Trailing after his swirling shadows as they seem to get further and further away, I take in breath as I pick up my skirts, quickening my pace. My boots pound against the marble of the halls as I race to catch up with him.
I have to make this right and fix whatever fracture I’ve created between us before he leaves again.
He seems to be moving impossibly fast, all too eager to put as much space between us and the disaster I’ve caused. My lungs burn for air as I run after him.
I lose sight of him several times, peering down dark, empty hallways as I chase any sign of him. Always at the last second, I seem to catch a flicker of movement or a particularly dark shadow to lead me in the right direction.
Or, so I hope.
For all I know, I could literally be chasing shadows.
Finally, my chase comes to an end when I suddenly find myself standing before a hall I’ve never noticed before. It’s so truly hidden in shadow that it could easily pass for part of the wall.
I press on, moving through the swirling shadows that suddenly swallow me, and what little light there was, whole.
Forced to stop running, I raise my hands. One hand against the wall and the other lifted in front of me, I continue on through the darkness.
This isn’t so different from the forest, and at least here I don’t have to worry about the earth dragging me down into it. My steps falter at this, and I quickly shove the thought aside.
Death promised me no harm would come to me within these walls, and so far, he has kept his word.
Holding onto this promise, I move forward. Unable to see, I’m forced to rely on small cues. The swish of a cloak as it whips around a corner, or the click of a heeled boot, the only signs that I’m heading in the right direction … until I turn a corner.
Stopping, I blink, hardly daring to believe what I’m seeing.
At the far end of the hall is a cracked door, a soft glow spilling out from within. I quietly make my way toward it, hesitating for just a second before peering into the room.
It suddenly hits me that this must be his private wing of the palace, and this room … his bed chamber.
I shouldn’t be here. Everything that I’ve ever been taught about virtue and reputation screams at me to leave, but I don’t.
Quietly, I push the door open and take a step inside.
Death’s back is to me as he braces himself against the balustrade of his balcony across the room. An ocean of swirling mist fills the space beyond him, mixing with the chaos of his own shadows as they whip around him.
Again, that not so small part of me insists that I leave at once. It’s clear that he wants to be alone, that he wants nothing to do with me.
But, again, I don’t listen.
I continue to watch him from my spot just inside the door as he lifts one hand to remove the skull mask from his face. I clasp my hands over my mouth to stifle a gasp as he sets the mask down on the balustrade, his back still to me.
His mask removed, he runs a hand through his hair, pushing back a heavy hood to allow inky black hair to fall in messy waves down to his collar.
My heart skips a beat as I continue to stare, only belated realizing I’ve taken two steps closer to him, drawn forward by my own curiosity and concern. I don’t need to see his face to know that whatever I’ve done to offend him weighs heavily upon him.
Death’s shoulders are drawn tight as he grips the balustrade. He drops his chin with a sigh so deep that it has my heart breaking into a million pieces, his dark hair falling forward in a silky curtain around it.
I feel nauseous at the thought that I could have caused him this much distress.
Can I do anything at all right in this life or must I be a burden to all those around me? Perhaps it’s best for everyone that my life will soon be cut short.
