A March of Kings - By Morgan Rice Page 0,41
than he. As Thor leaned back, resting his head in his palms on the soft moss and looked up, high above him Thor could see the two suns, the bright turquoise and yellow sky, trees swaying in the wind, white flower petals falling. The sound of the breezes whipped through the place, and he felt for a moment like they were the only ones left. He felt as if they had escaped from the worries of the world, that they were in a safe, protected place, a place where no one could touch them. He felt more relaxed than he’d ever had, and wanted to never leave.
Beside them, he felt fingers on his, and looked over to see Gwen’s hand. They locked fingers, and the touch of her skin made him feel even more deeply at ease. He felt that everything was right in the world.
As they lay there in the silence, feeling ever more deeply relaxed, he thought of his having to leave the following day—and the thought pained him. As excited as he had been to go, now, the thought of leaving Gwen upset him. With all that had gone on, with her father’s death, with their misunderstanding and their reconciliation, finally, he felt like they were in a good place. He wondered if leaving would upset that. And he wondered what things would be like a hundred days from now, and whether she would still care for him.
“I wish I did not have to leave you tomorrow,” he said. He found himself nervous to say it, hoping he did not sound too desperate.
But to his surprise, she turned and looked right at him, her face alight with a smile.
“I was hoping you would say that,” she said. “I have been able to think of nothing else since you told me. The idea of your leaving pains me in a way I cannot describe. Seeing you again was the one thing that gave me solace.”
She squeezed his hand, leaned in and kissed him, and he kissed her back. They kissed for a long time, then lay side-by-side again.
“And what of your mother?” Thor asked. “Will she still forbid your seeing me?”
She shrugged.
“Since my father’s death, she’s a different person. I don’t recognize her anymore. She hasn’t spoken a word to anyone. She just stares. I think a part of her died with him. I can’t imagine her rousing to stop us. And if she does, I no longer care. I am my own person. I will find a way. I will leave this place if I have to.”
Thor was surprised.
“You would leave the royal court? For me?”
She looked at him and nodded, and he could see the love in her eyes. He could see that it was true, and his heart swelled with gratitude.
“But where could we go?” he asked.
“Anywhere,” she said. “As long as I am with you.”
His heart soared at her words. He couldn’t believe she had said that, because he had been thinking the same exact thing.
“Isn’t it funny,” she said softly, “how certain people come into your life at a certain time? You, coming into my life just as my father died. It is strange. I don’t know what I would’ve done if you weren’t here. And to think I almost lost you, and over a silly misunderstanding.”
“I often wonder that myself,” Thor answered. “What if I hadn’t met Argon that day in the forest? What if I had not tried to come to King’s Court, to join the Legion? What if I had never met you? How would my life be different?”
A long, comfortable silence fell between them.
“It’s hard to fathom that in a day you will be so far from here,” she said. “On a ship, on an ocean, in a distant land, under a different sky.”
She sat up and turned and looked to him, fierceness in her eyes.
“Do you promise that you will come back for me?” she asked, with a sudden urgency. He could see how deeply she felt things. But it did not scare him—he was the same way.
He looked at her with equal seriousness.
“I promise,” he answered.
“Vow to me,” she said. “Vow that you will come back. That you will not leave me here. That, no matter what, you will return for me.”
She held out her hands, and Thor took hers, and looked into her eyes with a seriousness to match hers.
“I vow,” he answered. “I will come back for you. No matter what.”
She looked into his eyes