I watched her as she walked through the gardens, the morning light running down her long hair unrestricted. I found myself wishing to be the sun’s rays, to have the liberty of touching her with the same right as sunshine. She bent to smell the white rose, cupping the flower delicately in her hands. She did not pick it as I had seen other women do, rather enjoyed it as it was. The action reminded me of her outburst the day before, her lips quivering, her scent hidden under the volumes of perfume.
‘If you enjoy something, do not pick it! Do not kill it for your own enjoyment. Let it shine and let it remain for the attention of others. Show your love of it simply by leaving it be!’ She has stormed off to her chambers; her hair usually carefully braided a mass of waves free falling around her shoulders. That, I realised was how I saw her. She was a delicate flower I could only admire. I cursed my poor fortune, lured to watch her through the tower window like a stalker.
We are betrothed! We are bound to be married! And yet, it was a lie. She was not marrying me, rather the station, and the roll I was handpicked to play. It burned into me like a red hot poker, she would never love me. Even if she were to fall for my name, it was not mine. She would love a lie. It tormented me, ran through my blood like a fever. I could not have her. I shouldn’t have her. She was not some additional benefit, some perk to the job at hand. I wanted more than that, I wanted her heart.
I could see her smile, almost as though I was beside her. She wandered, greeting any who had the blessing of walking by her. And there I watched as she slipped off her shoes, revealing her dainty feet not hindered by cloth or leather. I moved to look away from the improper manner, and yet I discovered myself not only moving away but down the stairwell. I glanced at the mirror in the hall, nodding at those who crossed the wooden floors with purpose. I wanted to talk to her, to debate with her, to love her. I walked out into the air and drew myself towards her with little attention to the many flowers around us. The gardens were blooming, the rich sent of pollen sticking to me as snow would on a winter’s day.
She turned to my approach, her eyes curious. Then she looked down at her bare feet and I watched her cheeks glow. Quickly she gathered her shoes, bowing her head in my direction and setting off from the garden. She left me there, speechless. I wanted to call out to her, and yet I could barely mutter a syllable. I watched her flee through the columns that marked the walkway, over the small bridge that met before the large pond filled with coy fish. 858Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡOzdGKo9YSP
Such dangers she posed, and yet there was nothing more I wanted then her.
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