“Yes,” I muttered.
He patted my cheeks before grasping my hand. “We don’t have to go, but I won’t let the night go to waste.” He was already pulling me in the opposite way that we’d come from.
“Where are we going? Wait!” The theater got smaller and smaller in my vision.
He walked faster, the gas lamps lining the streets burned, people becoming fewer and fewer as he led me to the heart of Manhattan.
“Stop!” My voice was strained. I twisted my hand away from his. “Just let me ... catch my breath.”
The tall gates of the park hung over us. The iron bars and sharp hooks, to keep all intrusion out, were intimidating. But it seemed as though the scarier the fortification, the grander the reward. Even as we stood before the gates, you could hear the dribbling of running water within. The frogs were chirping, the one place they could perform their song that felt like home, before us mere people moved in. Each breeze carried the scent of cherry blossoms, tulips, and other botanicals yet to be discovered. It was a temptation, and we were not supposed to indulge.
“Come.” Arkady stood under the gates, his hand extended.
“Come where?” I crossed my arms, glancing around us.
“It is a public park, you act as though we are stealing,” he joked, taking a step closer, grabbing the air between us to beckon me.
“It feels wrong.”
“The park is open for another two hours, we have time,” he assured me. “I promise.”
I looked down the sidewalk, then to my other side. Not a person in sight.
“Petronille,” he called to me adoringly.
I finally looked at him again, his hand still there for me.
“It’s time to practice letting go a little,” he said.
I raised my hand, hovering it over his palm. It wasn’t like I was not going to take it. No, I was weak to his charms. Arkady was the type who could talk the most sensible people into leaping straight off a wildwood cliff. He had that air to him, the kind that made you feel as if you could fly. An aura that promised adventure, even in small pieces. That was themost exciting of all, the small adventures woven within the mundane, entirely accessible and never ending.
It was then I took his hand, and our adventure had just begun.
Flowering trees canopied over the walkway, the slightest breeze sending the wilting petals down on us. The path opened to tall hedges, blooming shrubbery, like witch hazel and aster.
It wasn’t much of a maze, but it did lead to a pond with a fountain.
The chittering of the frogs was louder now, their calls intermingling with a lone musician somewhere in the streets beyond the park.
My heels sank into the grass. I kicked off my shoes, the soft manicured lawn tickling against the soles.
Arkady laid his jacket neatly on the edge of the fountain, swiping off his suspenders, and he tugged his freshly pressed shirt over his head.
“What are you doing?” I whispered.
“Going for a swim,” he said as if it were obvious. His arms slipped around me, holding me close. “And so are you.”
Before I could object, he picked me up, submerging us with one quick dip in the pond.
I gasped at the chill, blinking the water from my eyes and shoving his chest. “Bastard!” I hissed.
“Apologies, did I get Her Majesty’s hair wet?” He pulled me farther into the water.
“C-cold! Dear Lord, it’s cold,” I chattered, hugging myself as we waded.
The ripples of the water cascaded through the water lilies, the frogs silent from the sudden commotion. For one small moment, the city seemed quiet.
I caught my breath, wiping my hair back as it fell from its updo and hung in damp waves that stuck to my neck and face.
