“I do not remember most of my life.”
“What?” Camelee asked, her interest piqued.
“Iwoke upone day, not knowing who I was. I was in my later twenties. In this world.” Her pause gave Camelee a thought about what she was saying.
Tears filled Camelee’s eyes. She fought not to let them fall. But as waterfalls did, her tears fell.
“Lord Alfred took me in as I was lost and terrified. He kept me under his wing the way he should, and I cared for him as my dearest friend.”
Camelee nodded her head, understanding, and thinking about how blessed Lord Alfred and Genevra were to have each other all these years, at least for companionship.
“And you never fell in love with him?”
Genevra shook her head.
“With anyone you knew?”
“No,” Genevra told her, straightening her spine, and squaring her shoulders. “My heart belongs to another.”
“Oh?” Camelee whispered, leaning in. “Who?”
Her new friend’s large eyes widened, and her mouth pouted. “I do not know. I do not remember. But I know that I love him. I have loved him since the beginning of time. At first, I waited for him, but no one ever came. I do not remember who he is or where to find him but I feel his presence. I know he exists. I do not know how I know it, but I do. I wait for him still, even allowing my body to grow old, never having a man in my bed or in my body.”
“Maybe the same thing happened to both of us, Genevra,” Camelee claimed with a smile. “Half my life, I was somewhere else. But I remember where I came from. And I remember compassion,” she added quickly and covered Genevra’s hand with her own. “I’m so sorry about your loss.”
“It is the way of war,” Akkar defended what his kinsmen had done.
“That does not make it okay…all right,” Camelee corrected, sitting up straighter.
“What do you remember?” Genevra asked her. “Were you visiting an aunt or uncle in Bristolton?”
“Yes. Aye. I was visiting,” Camelee said quickly. “My relatives were killed.”
“Such an innocent,” Genevra cried. “Would that I could preserve it.”
“Hild,” Camelee said in the hopes of distracting Genevra. “What is your favorite thing to eat?”
“Scones, Dam,” the little girl offered.
“Jam?”
Hild nodded without looking at her. Camelee smiled when their gazes met. In all honesty, she’d never seen such a perfect-looking angel.
Shamefully, she realized that she hadn’t even taken a moment to really look at Hild. She had pale blonde curls falling around her cherubic face like a golden halo. Her eyes were as green as the dreams of fairies in the forest.
But the little girl didn’t smile back. Three times and nothing. In fact, Camelee was sure Hild slipped her a hateful look. It was because of what Camelee had said about her mother not returning. About the truth.
She sighed. “I would make you some if I could.”
Hild ignored her.
No matter, Genevra kept her busy answering questions.
“I haven’t had this much interest in me in well,” Camelee gave it a few moments of serious thought. “I never have.”
Genevra swiped a dainty little hankie she produced from her sleeve across her nostrils. “I am not ashamed to say that I feel a closeness with you. It is as if I have met you before, or I should have.”
Camelee felt it, too. She wished they were alone so she could tell Genevra everything about traveling from the future. She knew this woman would believe her. “We should speak more later.”
