Chapter Fifteen
I walk along the gravel path, listening as my shoes crunch against the tiny stones.
Tall, neatly trimmed hedges shield me on either side as the sun drips through the green cracks.
I’m not too far from where Simon and I sat with Theo that night, and I’m hoping this is where I’m supposed to meet him.
I walk through the hedges until I reach the garden wall, and when I do, I hear the sound of footsteps behind me.
I exhale in relief when Simon comes into view, his small smile both soothing and fanning my fluttering nerves.
“You could have been a bit more specific than saying ‘meet me in the garden.’”
“I’m sorry,” he answers. “Are you well, Lily?”
I don’t think I’ll ever not feel a thrill when Simon says my name. I take a quick breath in as I look around at the hedges. “I am,” I tell him. “So, are we going for another walk?”
“In a way.” He moves in my direction, and I stay still when he suddenly strides past me. He steps right next to the stone wall and bends his knees, leaning down to cup his hand in front of me like a stirrup.
“Your foot goes here,” he says.
I take a second, looking at his offered hands and then to the wall, which has to be about seven feet high. “You’re going to fling me over the wall?”
“I’m not going to fling you,” he assures me. “Just help you over.”
“To see or do what on the other side?”
Simon stands up straight again. “You’ll have to trust me if you want to find out.”
I look back to the path we just came down, and at the palace beyond.
I told Lady Rochford that I needed privacy.
Some time alone in nature to clear my head.
Technically, I’m still in nature even if I jump the fence.
But I could also be in unimaginable trouble if we get caught.
I look at Simon—his hand is reaching out, waiting for mine, and there’s a soft hum beneath my skin when I take it.
I can’t go back just yet.
“I guess we’re going over, then.”
Simon smiles and leans down once more. I raise the hem of my gown, putting my foot in his palm and my hand on his shoulder as he easily hoists me up.
I swing my leg over the wall, which is no easy feat in these heavy skirts.
With my back to the garden, my feet dangle down in front of me as I look out at the deep green fields and the dark trees of the king’s woods in front of us.
Pulling himself up on his own, Simon settles beside me. He gazes forward before turning his eyes in my direction. “Hello again.”
“Hello,” I answer with a smile.
He jumps down a moment later and reaches up to help me after. His arms wrap around my waist as he lowers me to the ground, and he weaves his fingers through mine as soon as I’m steady. We walk through the field in a comfortable silence that doesn’t feel like silence at all.
We’ve gone maybe a quarter of a mile into the woods when Simon gradually comes to a stop. “We’re here,” he says, his gaze resting ahead of us. I follow his eyeline and see a massive tree. Its pale leaves are dangling down, touching the ground and carpeting the wide area it encompasses.
“It’s a weeping willow,” Simon goes on. “I like to come here when I want to be alone.”
I can feel him looking at me, but I can’t tear my eyes away from the tree, which seems straight out of a storybook.
“It’s beautiful,” I tell him.
Simon gently squeezes my hand in his. “You haven’t seen the best part.”
He urges me forward until we’re standing just before it, looking through the curtain of soft, swooping leaves.
He brushes a section aside and we step inside.
It feels like we’re back in our tent, but it’s somehow better.
When we stop in the center of the surprisingly open space, I do a full circle as I look around.
“This is possibly the dreamiest place to ever exist.”
Simon walks in a wider circle around me in confident comfort. “I would have to agree with you.”
I stop taking in my surroundings to turn and focus on him. “Am I the first girl you’ve brought here?”
“You are,” he affirms, giving no indication that he might be lying.
“Really? You’re saying I’m the only person to experience your weeping willow seduction?”
“What makes you think I took you here to seduce you? A bit presumptive, isn’t it?”
“You’re right,” I agree apologetically. “Did you bring me here to talk about science?”
He steps toward me with a smile, his hands clasped behind his back. “Maybe I did.”
I give him an assured smile of my own. “In that case, I can name every muscle in the brain in alphabetical order. Or by location. You pick.”
Simon stops walking, only a couple of feet away from me. “Fine. Perhaps in the deepest, furthest corners of my mind, I did consider seducing you.”
“And the truth comes out,” I say lightly.
I’m the one to close the distance between us.
We’re chest to chest when I stop before him, and Simon pauses before slowly bringing his hands up.
I think he’s about to touch my cheeks, but instead, he carefully lifts off the veiled headpiece that I’m wearing, revealing the small white cap underneath.
“Will you let your hair down for me?” he asks.
I think for only a moment before I pull off the cap. I take out each of the pins from the wound-up bun at the base of my neck, and my hair spills down my shoulders.
Simon reaches forward and runs a curl through his fingers. “You really are the first person I have brought here.”
“I believe you,” I tell him, sincerity softening my voice. “The palace is nice, but this is better.”
He drops the strands he was holding and brushes his fingers into the hair just above my ear. Goosebumps shiver down my spine at the soft contact, and my eyes fall closed. His lips touch mine in a quiet kiss. Delicate and fragile.
“Will you rest with me for a while?” he asks. “I’ve missed you.”
I nod in answer, and Simon lowers himself to the grass below us, holding my hand as I do the same. We lay down, side by side, gazing up at the blanket of leaves that look more like stars as sunlight flickers in around them.
After a while, we turn to face each other, and Simon stretches his arm out so I can lean my head on it. He’s a very comfortable pillow.
“Tell me something that makes you happy,” I prompt him.
His eyes drift to mine, a hint of a smile passing over his mouth. “I am happy when I’m out riding. On nights when I can’t sleep, I rise early, even before dawn. I go out on my horse, bringing him to full speed just as it becomes day, and I pretend that I’m racing the sun.”
His voice is so light. It makes me feel light, too. “Do you ever win?” I ask playfully.
“Not as often as I would like.” A distinct warmth fills his eyes. He shifts closer to me, spanning his free hand over my waist. “Tell me about a time when you were happy.”
Moments and snapshots of my old life flip through my mind’s eye like a cherished photo album. The one that pushes its way to the front is my mom and me. And my grandma. The memory is quiet and tender. As faint as soft music playing in another room.
“When I was young,” I tell him, “my mother and I, and my grandmother, would lie outside before we went to sleep to look at the stars. Kind of like this. We would find different shapes and patterns, and when one of us would find one, the rest of us would try to find it, too.”
“Do you miss your family?” he asks.
I don’t answer, but I nod. A tear slips down from the inside corner of my eye, trailing down and over my nose until it drops into the grass between us. Simon lifts a hand up to my face, wiping the wet path away.
“I’m sure that they loved you very much.” I nod again, not trusting myself to talk. He edges closer, pulling me into him in the process. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“You didn’t,” I assure him. “It’s nice to talk about my family. It helps remind me that they were real.”
“Would you like a handkerchief?” he asks, holding his wrist between us.
I look at the cuff of his sleeve and see one tucked away inside.
I pull it out, and it’s my handkerchief—the favor I tossed to him after he won the joust. The thought that he keeps it with him makes something in me melt in a toe-curling way.
I smile as I move the soft material through my fingers and then cover his face with it.
“Did you make me cry just so you could show off your hidden hanky?”
I hear him chuckle under the fabric. “What kind of a monster do you take me for?”
I pull the handkerchief away and fold it into a semi-tidy square. “A very romantic one,” I tell him.
He smirks before sneaking the material out of my hand and tucking it back into his sleeve. “Unfortunately, you can’t keep it. It was a very special gift.”
He urges me closer with a tug, and I nestle into his chest. “You’re also a selfish monster.” I run my hand up his arm and let my fingers trace the base of his neck. “I wonder what life could have been like if things were different. If you were a farmer and I was a dairymaid.”
Simon smiles, his hand shifting to roam up and down my side. “I can’t imagine you as a dairymaid.”
“No one would have bothered us. We could have said and done as we wanted.”
He slides into the small space that’s left between us, his nose brushing mine as the closeness of his body surrounds me. “There’s no one to bother us now,” he says.
A consuming look clouds his hazy eyes. It pulls me in so deep that it’s almost hard to breathe.
I lean forward to meet him in a devastatingly gentle kiss, one that’s meant to build up slowly and then ignite into a blaze.
My lips play with his like we have all the time in the world—like where we are now is a permanent state of being and not a fading moment.
He rolls me onto my back and settles over me.
The ground is soft. He’s so warm. Leaving is incomprehensible.