Chapter 8
I stare at him for a long moment, trying to take in what he just said.
"Wh-what do you mean? How do you know that?"
He quickly puts away the vial and the liquid. "I figured something like this could happen. Luckily, I know a friend who knows her poison—you could say it runs through her veins." He pauses for a second then looks directly at me. "Maybe you should think before you refuse the DAMN HEIR. Do you know how dangerous that is?"
I look down at my feet. His voice isn't angry—it's the kind of tone you'd use to scold a child.
"Even if it wasn't dangerous, he views me as property, just like everyone else. It's not right, and I refuse—I refuse," I say loudly, "to take part in his little games."
He lets out a sigh. "You're lucky I was by you. Anyone else would be dead. The poison in my glass was meant to kill—I could smell the aroma. And yours…" He pauses, frowning. "I couldn't recognize it, but it was definitely spiked."
I still look down, ashamed, as tears begin to form. "I'm sorry. You're right. As much as I don't want to be around him, it puts you in danger."
That makes me like him. I can't condone my actions especially since it led to danger. I used him today. I'm so ashamed of myself—of my demeanor. Those words echo in my heart and soul.
Tears begin to fall. Suddenly, a black handkerchief appears before my eyes.
"Here," he says.
I take it as I unfold it, he speaks quietly—but not weakly.
"Don't apologize to me. I'm a man of no consequence. And if you think you're no different from him, you're wrong. At least you care. Your tears are proof of it."
I dab my eyes. "Still… I—I—"
He lifts my chin. "Stop thinking that way. Please. I agreed to come with you because I wanted to."
The tears stop. "You… wanted to come with me?"
I turn red, only then noticing his thumb just below my eyes—warm against my skin. I can't tear my eyes away from him.
They're such a beautiful shade of red. Not the same color I am now, but a red that's darker—alive in a way I can't describe. I can feel his breath on my forehead, his own no longer unsteady.
We stare at each other for a moment… then another… and another.
Suddenly, a flash of purple crosses his eyes—then another. We both look up.
They've come.
Purple meteors streak across the night sky, each one brilliant, glowing against the dark. Soon the heavens are blanketed with them. The lights around us had dimmed long ago, and the faint music we hear is a slow, somber melody.
The bridge beneath us glows softly with the lantern finally reaching us from the capital. Soon, they'll drift toward the sea, a thank-you for the blessings to come. Each one illuminates just enough of the still water below.
He smiles looking slightly surprised. "So this is what all the fuss was about?"
I nod. "To bless our harvest for the next year."
He smiles again. "Do you know what these are?"
"As far as I know, just meteors. Meteors to light the sky to bless our harvest here."
He chuckles softly. "Where I come from, they're more than that—far more beautiful."
I wait for him to go on.
"See… there's a legend where I'm from. Each of these meteors is a soul—one finally finding its way home. The hue they make is their joy, lighting the sky as they're reunited with the ones they love."
That's… a beautiful thought.
"I hope that's true," I whisper. "I hope they're proud of me."
He pulls me close, my head resting against his chest. I can feel his heartbeat, steady and warm. His hand strokes my hair.
"Anybody who knows you," he murmurs, "is proud of you."
I close my eyes and let myself absorb his warmth.
"Dance with me?" I ask softly. The music is too good, the moment too right not to.
My eyes stay closed as he places one hand at my back, the other gently in mine. The steps come naturally, like something my body already knows.
And so we begin to dance—
…the lanterns drifting away one by one,
…the stars and souls above seeming to dance with us,
…the music echoing softly in time with every stride.
We dance… and dance… and dance—for the rest of the night.