He felt something inside him shift as he listened to her words.
She was so like Beatrice.
She blinked and he knew something was happening. Her face changed, disappointment filled it and then urgency replaced that. “Before I go, you must listen. In the copse of trees…”
He saw her hair darken slowly and he couldn’t help himself, he watched in fascination.
“Royce! Listen!” She was beyond urgent. Now frantic, her hands tightened on his face and his eyes went from her changing hair to her. “They’re waiting for you, in the copse of trees, outside Lacybourne. They’re going to slit your throat, Beatrice’s too. You must stop them.”
His body tensed at her words and she felt it. Her arms wrapped around him again, protectively, lovingly, in a way the warrior had never felt before, not even with Beatrice (although, Beatrice had no way of knowing her life, or his, was in imminent danger or she would have done the same, exact thing).
She held him tightly against her. “I tried to tell you this morning… or… some morning. That morning when I was there… here. I know you think I’m mad but you must believe me and you must stop them.”
Her hair was almost, but not quite, nearly to black.
“I do not think you are mad,” he told her but she wasn’t listening.
“Promise me!” she cried.
He nodded. He would not die this night nor would his Beatrice. And he wanted this woman to know that. He wanted her to trust him, to believe and he wanted that fear out of her eyes.
He nor his bride were going to die this night, he would be sure of it.
At his nod her entire body relaxed.
She trusted him.
Completely.
“I’m Sibyl, by the way,” she told him. “And don’t worry; I don’t think I’m coming back.”
And then she smiled magnificently, one finger tenderly touching his cheek. Royce had seen a great number of heart-stopping smiles from his wife but this smile was all Sibyl’s own.
She kept speaking. “And if you’ve been granted the gift of a longer life, try not to boss Beatrice around too much. She’ll find it immensely irritating.”
He knew in that instant, she was Beatrice even though she was not.
And therefore he grinned down at her.
Then she lifted her head, pressed her lips against his and she was gone.
* * * * *
And time started again.
* * * * *
“You’re crying.”
Colin stared at her face, something was right yet something was wrong, something profound had changed even though not a second had passed. He knew it, he felt it.
They’d just shared the most extraordinarily passionate, intense, intimate moment together in a long line of such extraordinary moments, making it hard to believe it had even happened.
But Sibyl was crying.
He could hear the rain hitting the windows.
Then he heard thunder rend the air and seconds later, lightning flashed through the room.