Of Sea and Sky: Part 6

            “There’s a boat, Lani.”

            She sat in the shallowest water, picking the petals off a flower, the last of the really warm summer days glowing on her skin. One by one, white petals rained into the tide and were dragged away by the hungry sea.

            “There’s a boat.”

            Lani plucked the last petal, held it between two fingers close to her face, studied it. Then she stood, let it drop. A shorter version of her silk-patterned garb clung to her wet thighs.

            “You’re going.”

            “You’re going with me.” There was something so desperate in his tone that Lani closed her eyes toward the sea. She reached out a blind hand and found his poorly shaven face deftly.

            “I’m not. It’s a nice fire, but it isn’t a wish.”

            Caspian’s mouth opened and closed helplessly. He wrung the hem of his white shirt in agitation. Opening her eyes, Lani turned. Keeping her hand on his face and adding another, she stood on her tiptoes. Then she kissed him. She kissed him goodbye.

            “Lani, I can’t just leave you.” Hanging his head as one under enormous weight, he expelled a heavy breath. His fists clenched impotently in her hair.

            She was sad, smiled, made no response. His fists unclenched. His footsteps turned away toward the smoke rising toward the bright blue sky.

Still more to go...

Everly's Walk: Part Six

Everly made inquiries as her carriage drove them bumpily over the so-called plains between Carrigan and Blythe. Elsbeth complained noisily, muttering unlady-like things in French which she was sure Everly did not understand (Everly did). But between the cursings, she managed to spill a secret or two. It seemed that Everly’s traveling companion simply loved to talk about herself and her dear Caspian. Everly was assured the Caspian was probably waiting at the port in Blythe to greet her. Probably distraught, he was. And oh, but she’d had to leave a dozen trunks behind for the journey, and wasn’t that dreadful? But hopefully her darling Caspian would replenish what she had lost. You’d think he would, you know, considering they were to be wed--

Cold. Everly resolved to be cold. It was all she thought on that long journey to see the man-she-loved-who-was-promised-to-another. If Elsbeth noticed Everly’s sudden silence--No, she hadn’t noticed or she would have taken advantage of what it implied.

Cold. When Elsbeth stepped from the carriage, Caspian’s expression changed from curious, even happy, to confusion, to shock, to--there it was--the flinch of fear. Everly removed herself from the carriage as well. Cold, she reminded herself. Pleasant. Polite. It was fire that had gotten her into this mess in the first place.

Caspian Blythe-Cameron tried valiantly to meet her gaze, but she went home without any explanation from him. It wasn’t as if he had a good one anyway. He did try though, a missive or two dashed off desperately after now-finished-house calls went unanswered. 

It wasn’t as if he didn’t try, with his fancy suits out in the rain that poured for three days and nights after Elsbeth came into town. That was probably the only reason he didn’t pack her off on a boat out of Blythe on the spot under Everly’s aching gaze. Then, after the rain, he’d simply forgotten about Elsbeth Deverauz entirely. He’d never liked her all that much anyway (though his mother had insisted), not in the way he’d hated (loved) Everly Carrigan.