Morgan Rice - A Sky of Spells

Reece navigated his way in and out of the rows, scanning the faces of the healers, most on their knees, tending to the soldiers. He searched everywhere for Selese. This impromptu infirmary was vast, and Reece was beginning to give up hope—when finally, on the far corner of the courtyard, he spotted her, leaning over a soldier, placing a liquid on his tongue. Beside her was Illepra, tending to a soldier who had lost a leg.

Reece walked quickly to her, and as he did, he suddenly worried if this was the wrong time or place to propose. The atmosphere was so somber, grim, in stark contrast to the festivities in the adjacent courtyard. Selese, too, was hard at work, and he did not want to take her from her duties; she also appeared to be in a somber frame of mind.

Yet still, Reece could not stop himself. He had to be with her, and he was intent on finding out whether she wanted to be with him, too. He felt compelled to show her how much he loved her, to demonstrate to her as much loyalty as she had shown to him. After all, she had saved his life, and had risked her life to do it.

Reece’s heart thumped in his chest as he approached her. He knew he could not waste another moment. He had always been taught that the only way to face your fears was to march right up to them—and asking Selese was more terrifying for him than facing a thousand warriors.

Reece approached her as she began to stand from her wounded, wiping her hands on her smock. She looked up and saw Reece approaching, and her eyes lit up with surprise and joy.

Reece came to embrace her, but she held up dirty palms.

“My Lord, I would hug you, but I am hardly dressed for the occasion,” she said, smiling.

But Reece did not care; he stepped up and hugged her, and she hugged him back.

“You seem nervous,” she said, examining him with a smile.

Reece stood there, staring at her, his heart pounding, unable to say anything. He was unable to smile or do anything, and he suddenly felt awkward. Was he ruining it?

She looked back at him with concern.

“Is everything all right?” she asked.

Reece could only nod, the words stuck in his throat.

Illepra now rose and turned, and she, too, stared at him with a puzzled look.

Reece looked all around, anywhere but back at Selese, and he saw all the wounded and sick, and he knew this was the wrong place to ask her. He impulsively reached down and took her hand.

“Would you come somewhere with me?” he asked.

“Now? Where?” she asked, baffled. “I must tend the wounded.”

“There will always be more wounded,” Reece replied, tugging her hand. “Come with me. Just for a few moments. Please.”

Selese turned and looked at Illepra, who nodded back her approval.

Selese untied her bloody smock, brushed back her hair, and walked with Reece, linking arms, smiling, a bounce to her step as they strode away from the courtyard. Clearly, she was relieved to take a break from her somber duties.

They walked through an arched stone gate, leaving the perimeter of King’s Court, and out into the countryside. They walked through a knee-high field of winter flowers, bright white, with large petals, a foot long, swaying in the wind and brushing up against their thighs. These winter flowers were dainty, light as a feather, and each time Selese reached down to touch one, they fell apart, their petals lifting up into the air, carried on the wind, and raining down all around them.

“Aren’t you supposed to make a wish on these?” she asked, smiling, as they walked through the field of white, petals twirling all around them.

“My wish has already come true,” Reece said, finally able to speak again.

“Has it?” she asked, smiling. “And what wish is that?”

Reece stopped and turned to her, deadly serious.

“That we would be together again.”

Selese stopped and stared back at him, and her smile fell.

“You mock me, my lord,” she said.

He squeezed her hands earnestly.

“I do not,” he insisted, earnest. “I wish for nothing more.”

Reece reached out, raised a hand to her cheek, and looked into her eyes with all the seriousness he could muster. He was more nervous than he had ever been.

“Selese, I love you,” he said. “I have from the moment I laid eyes upon you, back in your village. From the moment I first heard your voice, I have thought of nothing else. In all my travels throughout the Empire, in all the people I’ve met and lands I’ve seen, I have thought of nothing but you. I owe you my life. But more than that, I owe you my heart.”

Reece took a knee, held her hands, and looked up into her eyes as he smiled. His heart was pounding so strongly he felt he might have a heart attack.

She looked down, smiling, puzzled.

“Selese,” he asked, his throat dry. “Will you marry me?”

Reece reached into his pocket and took out his mother’s ring, shining even in the field of flowers.

Selese gasped.

She raised one hand to her mouth, and her eyes filled with tears. She rushed forward and embraced Reece, hugging him tight, her tears pouring down onto his neck.

“Yes,” she whispered in his ear. “A thousand times, yes!”

They leaned back and kissed, and they held that kiss for as long as they could, white flowers raining down all around them, Reece not feeling the winter wind, as he finally had everything he ever wanted in life.

Thorgrin made his way through the thick crowd of well-wishers surrounding Gwendolyn, hundreds of soldiers and subjects and nobles and lords and council members, all pressing on her, blocking her from all directions, all wanting to wish her well or to be heard about something. They all clearly looked to her as their queen now. As well they should, Thorgrin thought. Gwendolyn had led them through hard times, had demonstrated self-sacrifice and unwavering leadership, and had suffered travail in her own right, at her people’s expense. She had stared suffering in the face, and had not crumpled in the face of adversity. She had led her people to victory and had come out the other side.

Thor recalled what a great king her father had been, and it was clear to him that Gwendolyn was an even greater ruler. He was proud of her, so proud, as he pushed his way through, finding it difficult to even get close to her in this throng. She was clearly loved.

Thor did not want to take her away from all this, but he had to. He could not wait a moment longer. Now was the time to ask her.

“Gwendolyn,” he said, coming up beside her, Krohn at his heels.

She turned to him, and others parted ways as he stepped forward and stood beside her.

“Can I steal you away for a while?” he asked, smiling.

She smiled back. She leaned in and whispered in his ear: “I was hoping you would.”

Thor’s heart beat faster as he reached out, took her hand, and led the way through the thick crowd, their all parting ways for them, Krohn following. Gwen turned to her people, all watching, and said: “Go on, enjoy the festivities. I shall return in a while. Go on! Enjoy!”

There came a cheer from the crowd as the music started again, and the people turned back to themselves.

Thor took Gwen’s hand and led her away, the two of them walking faster, both of them giddy, like kids skipping school, Krohn nipping at their heels, finally breaking free from all of their duties and responsibilities for a time. It was the first time Thor had managed to get time alone with her since their landing in King’s Court. Thor felt as if they were dating again—and he felt just as elated to be with her now as he did then. He could sense from her grip that she felt the same way, too.

They passed through the high stone gate leading out of King’s Court, in disrepair yet still standing, and took the path heading west. This road, Thor noticed, once meticulously paved with stone and gravel, littered with holes and overgrown with weeds.