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He stopped in the middle of the rose garden, a lush rectangle of flowering blooms that clung to trellises and sprouted from rich soil, alongside well-kept stretches of lawn, and white gravel pathways. A sandstone wall that was just a head taller than Anthony surrounded it all, each area of the gardens sectioned off into categories: rose garden, winter garden, wildflower garden, fishpond, among others.
Thus far, he had searched them all, even looking under the pagoda in the Oriental garden and the pavilion by the fishpond. There had been no crunch of gravel to give anyone away, no sound at all to help him in his increasingly futile efforts.
Just then, beyond the gate that led into the winter garden, he caught sight of a blur of pale blue.
“You have to catch the person hiding. You can’t just see them and say they’re found.” William’s earlier words came back to trouble Anthony, for the entire point of this game was to prevent Marina from exerting herself.
But rules were rules.
“I see you, wife,” Anthony warned with a smile, as he took off through the gate.
He knew it was her, for his son was wearing dark clothes and his grandmother would not be able to move so fast… and was wearing a purple pelisse. Marina was the only one in light blue, for he had noticed how pretty the dress was when she came down to join everyone in the entrance hall.
“There you are,” he said, coming to a halt in the only garden that had not yet bloomed, for everything here would not come into its full beauty until the end of summer, into the autumn.
His wife unleashed a laughing shriek as she whirled around, trapped at the gate that might have ushered her into the safety of the pond garden.
“The latch is stuck!” she protested with bright eyes. “This is not fair!”
Anthony smirked and began to prowl toward her, his blood racing in his veins.
“I was doing so well,” she said, her laughter a wondrous thing, as was the healthy color in her cheeks. “Come any closer and I shall climb the gate. Do not think I will not.”
Anthony chuckled in the back of his throat. “If you do that, I will catch you all the faster.”
Her hand continued to fumble at the uncooperative latch, while her gaze darted this way and that, as if to find another means of escaping her husband.
All the while, Anthony moved closer, a thrill coursing through him that he had not felt in a long time. If ever.
The thrill of the chase.
At that moment, the latch lifted and the gate swung open. With a triumphant grin, Marina darted through it and let the gate swing back behind her, as she ran off into the pond garden.
Not so fast, my dear…
He propelled himself forward with a speed he had not had to use in years, launching himself clear over the gate in one smooth move. Landing on the other side, he barely paused before he was running again, chasing his wife as she sneakily ran around the pond, putting the body of water between him and her.
“Will you not think of my poor nerves?” Marina taunted, her radiant smile lighting her up from within, while the sunlight glanced off her in such a way that she looked positively angelic.
Unparalleled beauty, only revealed to those who looked long enough to see her smile, to see her come alive, to see her truest self, to see her as she was instead of the shy, withdrawn façade that she presented to the rest of the world.
“Would you truly chase me after I have been so unwell?” she said, laughing wickedly. “Will you not take pity on a feeble, sickly maiden?”
She was enjoying herself and, though he would not admit it, Anthony was beginning to enjoy himself too.
“I was given a quest,” he replied, playing along a few weeks late. “I am afraid you have been sacrificed so Prince Goldheart can take the queendom for himself.”
Marina’s eyes widened in surprise… and then she laughed afresh, so musical and hearty that it brought a grin to his own lips. “Oh, that scoundrel!” she cried, pressing a dramatic hand to her brow. “I should have known better than to trust him!”
He chuckled, finding himself more amused than embarrassed. “Alas, you are going to have to come with me. My captive. My quest.”
“Fiend!” she shrieked, eyes twinkling with mirth as she backed away, keeping her gaze on him as she moved around the pond.
He followed, coming around the opposite side of the water so she would not be able to reach the gate again. “You could come willingly?”
“Never,” she replied. “I would not take the satisfaction of me being caught from you. That is, of course, if you can.”
Perhaps she did not realize the power in a taunt like that, but Anthony found himself spurred into action, ready to do whatever it took to catch her in his arms. To pull her close and call her his, holding her there so she could not run from him again.
