"He's asking for you again." Anna's chilly tone as she brushed past me spoke volumes. She dropped her wicker basket of uniforms and shirts in need of repair on the scratched tabletop. "He wanted to give me a letter to give to you, but I said I could just as well tell you myself."
I kept my eyes trained on the shirt I was mending. I knew who "he" was without her having to say his name. We never spoke his name. For me, it would have set too many fires, caused too many heads to turn. As it was, just knowing he wanted to see me ignited flames of longing inside me. I straightened my shoulders, then glanced her way. "Did he say when I should come?"
"I suppose now. He didn't say a time, and I didn't inquire." She flopped into the chair by the hearth. Though spring would soon come and we saw signs of it every day with the gray snow melting and snow drops pushing through the mud and dirty snow.
He’d first approached me on just such a day. I tried to suppress the memory. It did no good to be reminded that I could never be the woman by his side.
He was the crown prince. He was destined for far brighter stars than I.
YOU ARE READING
30 Days, 30 Stories
General FictionOne month, one challenge... Share one story per day for a month. Some personal, some fictional. All telling some part of the heart's journey.
