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She is an impossibility in this universe of suffering.
“Come,” I say after another moment, stepping back.
She glances up at me, obviously reluctant to leave Knax’s side, and he gives her a soft snort as if to promise her that he will remain nearby. This seems to satisfy her as she reluctantly steps back and allows me to lead her away.
We move through the golden field, letting the sunlight and breeze warm us as we walk. Though, the heat is agonizing for me, I do not let it show.
Silence stretches between us as she twirls to soak it all in, her smile never once melting from her face.
Watching her, I wish I had thought to bring her here sooner.
Guilt twists my stomach as I realize I have been no better than those before me. I have kept her trapped in the cold confines of my palace, forced to spend her last days alone with nothing but her paints for comfort.
My selfishness, my fear of her effect on me, has made me act with cruelty. Though I know she would never complain, I hate how little I have done to make her happy.
I will not make this mistake again.
For as long as she is here, for as long as I am able, I swear to make every last moment that she has left count.
She will never want for anything again, as long as I can give it to her.
“I have prepared a picnic for us,” I say, leading her up a small hill through the tall grass. We stop beneath the shade of a large apple tree, the blanket I laid out earlier already waiting for us.
Knax trots closer, bending to graze near the bottom of the hill. Hazel turns slowly to look out over the valley before turning her attention toward the picnic.
“It looks wonderful,” she says enthusiastically. “Thank you.”
I clear my throat uncomfortably, but do not voice my own concerns over the collection of cheese, jams, olives, and other items I pulled at random from the kitchen.
Offering my hand, I help her down onto the blanket before joining her.
I watch as she reaches for a slice of read, liberally spreading bright orange jam over it before taking a bite. Relief washes over me as a sigh of delight escapes her.
“I don’t think anyone has ever prepared a picnic specifically for me before.”
“I must admit, I am unfamiliar with the customs of mortals,” I say. “I was unsure of what exactly I should bring.”
“You did excellently,” she says with a soft smile.
I doubt that is the truth, but I appreciate the warmth in her voice, and we fall back into silence as she eats.
Her eyes wander across the field before landing on Knax. For several moments we watch as he prances about, clearly showing off for this mortal. It seems that she has managed to win him over in almost no time at all.
“Might I ride him?”
I frown at her simple request.
“No. It is not possible, I’m afraid.”
“What do you mean?”
“Though you can touch him, it is impossible for any living thing to mount him.”
My words take a moment to sink in, but when they do, I feel her curious gaze settle on me.
I realize that I have revealed more to her than I meant to.
Yet, I do not seem to mind.
