The End of Days

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The End of Days Page 22

by A. E. Watson


  “I wish there was a way to go back so we could do it all over again, but take our time. We were always in such a hurry to be ladies. I wish we’d stayed young longer.”

  The fear is one we share. I feel as though I am facing my own mortality.

  “Do you love him?” I ask.

  “I do. He’s a gentleman and he looks at me like I am the only person he sees. I can tell he puts my value and safety above every other thing.” She pulls back, giving me a look. “I wish you felt the same about someone. I think this would be easier for me if you were happy with someone too. I wouldn't feel so alone with it.”

  My cheeks flush as I lift my hand, revealing the large jewel.

  Her eyes widen, making dark pools for me to see myself in. “Oh my, to whom?”

  “Constantine Basarab.”

  Her eyebrows knit. “Is that what you want?”

  “It is.” My response brings a wide smile to her face.

  “Congratulations.” She hugs me again quickly before pulling back to take a second look at the ring. “That is some stone. It’s stunning.”

  “Thank you.” My cheeks burn with the feeling but I share it, “I know what you feel. He makes me feel alive and protected and cherished.”

  “We deserve no less.” She grips my hand tightly. “This is the greatest gift you could have ever given me, to know we are together in this adventure.”

  I nod, pressing my lips tight.

  “I know we shall miss the years as children but to have both found love of this caliber is beyond lucky.”

  “Speaking of love, I should go and find Constantine. I suspect he’s alone with my mother and father.”

  She winces. “Yes. And mine.”

  “Oh good.” I laugh, shaking my head.

  Holding hands, we hurry back downstairs to find the great hall filling as more guests arrive. Marguerite is swept away to greet and stand next to her husband-to-be. He seems to dote on her the way I think she needs someone to.

  In the moment I am admiring them, an arm slides into mine, pulling me to the side of the man who has captured my heart in a fortnight.

  He smiles and whispers, “Are you all right?”

  “I am. Are my parents settled in?” In the crowd of people speaking a foreign language, I am lost. I cannot see a face I know, apart from the happy couple.

  “They are. Shall we take a walk? You look burdened by the crowd.”

  “I’d like that.” I turn, giving him a soft smile. His dark eyes pull me in, dazzling me with the feelings I have for him. They consume me.

  He squeezes my arm gently, lovingly. But I can see from the way his lips twitch, he longs to kiss me. I want it too.

  I let him walk us from the back of the castle to the lake. We stroll along the shore and pier, pausing to look back at the castle and its reflection on the calm waters. “It’s beautiful here.”

  “You’re beautiful here, everywhere.” He cups my face, tilting my chin, and presses his lips against mine. I close my eyes and melt into the embrace, letting this spot become the only place in the world. When he pulls back the cold lake air rushes between us but my lips still burn from the kiss. “You have stolen my heart. I don't know when it happened, but I know I have walked this earth as the shell of a man, half loving, half seeing, half living. You are the other half I was missing. You have made me whole again. The air smells different, the view has color. Thank you.”

  “I didn't do anything.”

  “You love me, Kate. You don't see it. You don’t say it. But I can feel it.” He lifts a large hand to his chest and places it over his heart. “Here. My hollow heart is filled with love because you gave me yours.” He kisses my lips once more, still softly as if he’s holding back. “I love you with everything that I am, I love you,” he whispers against my mouth.

  “You’re right.” I blink and force myself to express the feelings I have bursting inside me. “I do love you. I love the way you make me feel, like anything is feasible and the world is one long endless possibility. I think that when it all ends for us, there will be one regret that I exhale on my deathbed.”

  “What is that?” He looks worried.

  “That we didn't have enough time. That I wished there was more of everything. I already feel that way about my childhood. It has rushed by, filled with joy and love and friendship. I don't even want to imagine how quickly these years will all go by, but I’m excited to spend them with you. And the things I might have been afraid of once, I think I can overcome them all because you are there—here.”

  “And you will never be alone, like I told you.”

  “We will never be alone.” I lift my hands, taking his cool cheeks in them. Cupping his face, I take a second to cherish all of it. All of him. Then I pull his face down to mine, leading into the kiss in a very unladylike way. I kiss him the way I imagine he has wanted to kiss me. Our tongues meet and hands grip harder as breath grows ragged and soft moans escape parted lips.

  The world vanishes into a background of soft noises that do not concern us.

  I don't know how long it lasts.

  How long we touch and ache for one another, but when he pulls me back there’s a murderous look in his eyes. He looks savage. He snaps his lips shut and takes several breaths before opening his mouth and sighing. “We can’t do this here. We aren’t married firstly, and secondly, you are a lady.”

  I nod, almost like I am under a spell. “I am a lady.” My cheeks redden with realization as I turn and ensure no one saw us. “I am so sorry. I don't know what came over me.” Embarrassed, I pull back even farther, letting go of him.

  “Don't be.” He steps in again, still keeping a respectable amount of space between us. “Never be sorry. I do not believe you have a single speck of cruelty or malice in you.”

  “I do.” I smooth my traveling dress and nod. “I do.”

  “If you insist.” He offers me a soft look. “I can’t imagine how the fates worked this so perfectly.”

  “What?”

  “I wasn't meant to take the let in your town. The man who was letting me a home in another area, farther south, died and his son decided to take the house on, forfeiting the agreement his father and I had made. Realizing he had left me with a predicament, he found me another house and gave me the contact information. That's how we ended up as neighbors. Now I can’t imagine a world where we didn't meet.”

  “We would have met, somehow.”

  He reaches forward, taking my hand that wears his ring and kisses the back of it. “I think you’re correct. We would have met. We were meant for each other. Both born with one goal in mind, finding our heart’s companion.”

  My cool cheeks fill with color as I contemplate the level of love and lust we are both filled with.

  Needing a change of pace and subject I lift my hand. “Where did the ring come from?” We both look down at the blood-red stone.

  “My mother. It was hers until her death.” When I look up I see his face has lost some of the charm that was there before the question. “She was murdered when I was boy.”

  “I’m sorry.” I’m sorry for him and for asking.

  “My father was never the same afterwards. So it was like losing them both. My brothers and I, we took care of each other. When Father died, I left Romania. I came to England after my world travels and never left. I had the strangest feeling as though I shouldn't.” He gets lost in his story for a second.

  “How long ago was that?”

  A sparkle of humor brings him back to reality. “Some time ago.”

  “And your brother is the king now, leaving you free to roam?”

  His eyes widen. “How do you know that?”

  “Someone told Marguerite.” I hurry my answer to match the urgency in his question.

  “Yes. I’m sorry. I didn't want to burden you with the possibility that one day we may have to rule my country. It’s not even a remote possibility at this point. My brother has always been a robust man.” His eyebrows knit. “I didn't
want you to feel pressured. And I certainly didn't want your parents to know—they would have pressured you even more—”

  “I’m not worried,” I cut him off, shaking my head. “Unless your brother grows unwell.”

  “He’s fine.” He chuckles. “Better than fine and not going anywhere.” He lifts my hand and kisses it again. “We should get back before we’re missed.”

  I let him lead me back to the castle as my brain does circles, contemplating his life before we met.

  Epilogue

  The dress is put to the back of the wardrobe, wrapped in the protective bag Giselle made. Her eyes drift back to mine. “Are you ready for the move? All packed up?”

  I nod, taking one last look at my bedroom. “I think so.”

  “Well then, he’s downstairs.” Giselle looks odd. “Your husband.” She grins when she says it.

  “You won’t reconsider coming with me?” I say it quietly so my mother doesn't hear.

  “I have to go home. I’ve been away too long now.” She hugs me tightly for the hundredth time, each time harder than the last. “I will miss you, my sweet girl.”

  Tears flood my eyes as I sigh. “And I you.”

  “Promise you will write every week.”

  “Every week.” I chuckle. “Twice on Sundays.”

  She laughs and pulls me back. “I love you. You have always been like a daughter to me.”

  “And you have always been a mother to me. I am the luckiest girl for having two loving mothers.”

  She blinks, sending tears down her cheeks. “And we are lucky to have had a daughter like you.” She kisses me on the cheeks one last time and nods at the door. “Now get going before he sees all the stuff you have and changes his mind.”

  We both laugh as I make my way downstairs.

  My mother hugs me once more. She’s been crying again.

  My brother gives me a hug and a kiss, which is odd for him. Even my father looks like he’s been kicked in the shin.

  We embrace one after the other on repeat until Constantine pulls me into his arms. “We will visit often.” He shakes my father’s hand and waves as he pulls me gently.

  “I love you all!” I wave again.

  When we get into the coach, I blow kisses out the windows as the driver speeds away.

  “Your poor family, losing you and Marguerite all within a fortnight,” Constantine mutters and pulls me into his lap. “We will have to visit every day for a month!” He kisses my neck, grazing it with his teeth.

  I giggle and squirm, realizing suddenly that the marriage is done and the wedding night is upon us. My back straightens as I gulp. The wedding night!

  “What is it?”

  “Nothing,” I blurt, wondering why I hadn’t paid more attention when Mother and Giselle both spoke of it. The only thing I recall is to drink a lot of wine, but I haven’t had the chance and now it’s too late.

  He wraps his arms around me again, cradling me. “Don't be scared of me, Kate. I won’t ever hurt you.” He always speaks as if he’s read my mind.

  I nestle into his chest and close my eyes, listening for his heartbeat. His wedding suit is so thick I cannot hear it. But he’s warm and comfortable to lie on.

  “Tell me something about you,” I murmur.

  He sighs and whispers, “What do you want to hear most?”

  “Something you never tell anyone.”

  He kisses the top of my head and pauses, like he’s going to say something, but he hesitates and then mutters, “I love you.”

  The words bring a smile to my lips.

  I think they always will.

  A lifetime of smiles and love and surprises is what awaits me, and I couldn't be more excited to see what he has up his sleeve.

  My end and beginning have come all at once.

  The End

 

 

 


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