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 whenyouwere 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.”
