Chapter 83 Soulmates in Life and Death
Skylenna
Seventy -three years old
“And remember how I told you Ruth clawed out Apple May’s eyes when she threatened me that day?!” I ask Dessin while he’s cleaning up the wrapping paper off the ballroom floor.
Our family and friends have finally left after a long week of celebrating Christmas with us.
Screaming children filled these halls. Warrose, old and grumpy, wore muffs over his ear to block out the noise.
Ruth laughed at his expense. Our granddaughters sat on Dessin’s lap while he read the old Christmas tales they beg him to read every year.
I gave a speech about how fulfilling my life has been with so much love and so many children.
And now that everyone’s gone home, hundreds of years in the future, I get to tell Dessin the theatrics I get to hear that he isn’t privy to.
“I remember.”
“Good, good. Your memory has been spotty lately,” I explain.
He coughs out a laugh. “My memory is flawless.”
“Mmm. I don’t think so.”
“You think yours is better?” He tosses the leftover wrapping paper in the fireplace.
“Of course,” I say innocently.
“Skylenna, my sweetheart, you left the door open last night and tried to convince me we’d been robbed this morning.”
I grimace at him. “We don’t know I’m the one who left it open.”
“I watched you leave it open. When I tried to close it, you said, and I quote—‘leave it open! We need fresh air. You scared of getting robbed or something?’”
“I think you’re making that up.”
Dessin throws his head back to laugh, charging forward to lift me off my feet and spin me around to dance.
“Careful! I have arthritis!” I scold.
“No, you do not.”
“Yes, I do. I hate when you say that.”
“Have you been diagnosed?”
“By who? It’s just you and me here, dummy.”
He laughs again, kissing my temple. “Me. I could diagnose you.”
“I have diagnosed myself, and that’s good enough for me.”
“I’d believe you if you didn’t conveniently complain of that pesky arthritis every time we had to clean the kitchen.”
I giggle into his chest, and we continue dancing until I get a little lightheaded, and my husband carries me upstairs to our bedroom in the east wing of the castle.
“You already forgot you were telling me a story,” Dessin murmurs in my ear, nuzzling his nose against the side of my head.
“Oh, yeah,” I hum sleepily.
He chuckles.
But there’s a long pause because I don’t remember what the story was about.
“Apple May, sweetheart.”
“Oh yeah!” I do a happy wiggle in his arms as he gets past the last step. “When Sapphire and Niklaus traveled to the asylum, Meridei was their conformist for joint treatments, and she let her sick mother watch and torment them too!”
Dessin breathes heavily as he walks slowly into our bedroom. “What?”
“Apple May was a sexual sadist! She was having them—”
“I’m too old and too much of Sapphire’s father to hear those details of this story, Skylenna,” Dessin grumbles.
“Right, right, anyway, Sapphire ended up manipulating time in Apple May’s scalp and hair! She decayed the top of her head only and made the vain woman bald. Side note, Apple May’s hair was her greatest pride and joy.”
Dessin sets me down on our bed to laugh.
“And that’s why Apple May wore that bath towel around her head,” he says.
I flop onto the fluffy pillows and grin at the gold-painted ceiling. I am so tired I could sleep for days. But these memories have me tickled pink.
“Our daughter is brilliant.”
Dessin agrees with a hum. And being the gentleman he is, Dessin also undresses me, pulls a nightgown over my head, and massages my feet.
“Remind me of the agenda for tomorrow?” I slur woozily.
My husband kisses each of my toes. “It’s supposed to snow in the morning. I was thinking I’d make us some hot chocolate and breakfast, and we could sit on the balcony with some blankets and enjoy the view.”
I peel one eye open in the dark. “Is that my sweet Kane?”
“Yes, honey.”
My eyes well up as I close them. I haven’t seen him in a while, and I’ve missed him so much. “You promise you’ll be here in the morning for that idea?”
“I promise.”
“Then continue with the agenda so I may sleep, and we can have a fun day together.”
“Well, after that it will be too cold to go outside, so I thought maybe we could get the fireplace going, cuddle on the couch, and read those new books Krimson gave us for Christmas.”
I coo happily. “With more hot chocolate?”
“Bottomless hot chocolate for my sweet Skylittle.”
Kane kisses me on the head and walks to his side of the bed, getting comfortable under the covers, and scootching my way to spoon me.
“Kane?”
“Yes, honey?”
“I miss DaiSzek.”
“So do I. Every day.”
“Time travel is so funny. Can you believe we were so drawn to the Red Oaks as kids because that’s where our DaiSzek was laid to rest almost a thousand years in the past? Turning the forest red?”
Kane inhales the scent of my hair and hums his agreement.
“Are you asleep?” I ask into the dark room.
“Mmm-hmm.”
“Do you know how much I love you?” I kiss my husband’s wedding ring with a big smile.
He tries not to laugh, but I can hear it in his breath. I always get a second wind at night when he’s here, eager to tell him every detail he’s missed since he’s been gone.
“How about you tell me just how much in the morning, honey.”
I snuggle in tighter. “Tomorrow it is.”
“Sweet dreams.”