One Word Prompts 2021

Sour - An Innocuous Request

It was an innocuous request.

"May I please have a little lemon with my meals?" she asked, batting her eyes and pouting coyly.

A strange request, for sure, but hardly dangerous. And, sure, he'd kidnapped her, but he wasn't a monster. He wanted her stay to be comfortable, how else was she to come to love him?

So, he agreed. The smile of relief on her lips made it more than worth it.

Did she like lemons that much? He'd never been a fan but she had a far more refined palette than him, it wouldn't surprise him if she understood some truth about the strange, sour fruits he could only speculate after.

It was maybe a week later the next innocent request came.

"Would you mind if I took up painting again?" she asked as they sat side by side on her balcony overlooking his dark domain. "The castle is so beautiful but so dark. I would like to brighten up the place with some art."

His undead heart—had it beat, might have—skipped in his still chest. She thought his castle was beautiful? Was she getting accustomed to living here?

He'd agreed on the spot. Anything to make her love it that much more. And after all, if she was to marry him as he'd asked, it would be her castle too, it was only right she decorate as she wished.

The next two weeks were spent in bliss watching her paint flowers and fields of foreign lands. As such, it came as a great surprise when he'd entered her chambers that morning to find her sobbing on her floor.

She looked so delicate lying there. So vulnerable. He could not help but beg her to tell him what was wrong.

"I miss my family oh so much," she'd admitted, gracefully wiping the tears from her soft eyes. "I don't know how I can possibly go on."

He'd given her his most encouraging smile, patting her shoulder he hoped in a comforting way. But he didn't know what to say.

She looked away from him, to the painting on her easel. It depicted a lemon amid a sea of vines.

"I just wish I could show my sister my paintings like I always used to," she said, her voice shaking. "Oh, but that is too selfish, isn't it? I'll never see her again, will I? How foolish was I to paint this for her? I just miss her oh so much."

It broke his heart to hear her in so much distress. How could he fix this? Return her home? No, then he too would be sad. But perhaps, he could kidnap her sister too?

She shook her head at the suggestion. "Then what of my aging parents? Is it not bad enough they will not see me again, must they lose my sister too? No, she is all they have left." She rubbed her eyes shaking her head. "I'm sorry, it was a selfish wish. I won't mention it again. I just wanted her to see this."

No, there was a simple way to satisfy her desire. He'd just have the painting sent to her family's castle. This and any others she might want to paint for her sister!

Her face brightened immediately, her tears banished as quickly as they'd come.

The days went on like this. Every few days, a new, small request. Could he visit her earlier? Could they move the furniture? Wouldn't it make more sense to station the guards like this? Could she re-landscape the garden? Maybe move her room so she could look out over it?

Anything to make her happier. And every request he answered brought a real smile to her face. He came to eagerly await her requests. It seemed she was finally getting accustomed to life in his castle. Finally embracing it as her home.

So, when he found her room empty one evening he didn't immediately realize what had happened. She was probably in the garden, she often spent her time there since the landscaping had finished. One of her servants confirmed as much.

But, she wasn't there either.

He searched the castle, high and low. He questioned every inhabitant. Not a one had seen her. Not a one knew what had happened.

He'd shouted. He'd yelled. He'd raged!

Who dared to kidnap his kidnapped bride? Who dared take what he had taken?

In his rage, he knocked over the latest of many paintings slated to be sent to the sister. It skidded across the floor, landing inches from the blazing fire. And he couldn't believe his eyes.

Amid the painted vines, below a trio of delicate lemons, words burned through the paint. They read: "All is still ready. I wait in the garden as arranged."

How was this possible, he demanded of his advisors. How had she gotten invisible ink? What spell was this that allowed her to secret messages from his halls?

No magic, they said. No expensive ink. Just lemon juice, mixed with paint. Just lemon juice, painted and dried on the canvas, unseen until heated by fire's light.

It had been such an innocuous request. And yet...