In and Out of Time

spun to gold

I return to that same spot the next week, awaiting her arrival. Only now do I feel the anxiety plague my mind, filling my head with worrying thoughts. What if she doesn't come? It's possible that this was all a joke to her; some form of payback for my deception. I try my best to push those away, remaining optimistic.

As I stare at the fountain, it finally occurs to me why this place feels so special. It reminds me of the one I'd run off to as a child when I lacked understanding. More specifically, the familiar surroundings make me think of my mother. A bittersweet feeling washes over me as my mind forms a rare vivid picture of the gracious woman.

I wonder what she would say if she could see me now; I ask myself that question a lot. She was always proud of me, whether I failed or not. 'It's not a failure if you learn from it. That, my darling, makes it a lesson and an achievement. Always remember that' she'd say and funnily enough I had forgotten until this moment.

I guess those words of wisdom came to me when I most needed them. I've felt like all I can do is fail as of recently and her words ringing in my head bring me comfort; it's like she's here with me. With every 'failure' I learn something new and maybe that's what life is—a culmination of lessons. One never truly becomes the master without first dedicating themself to remain a humble student.

I hear crunching leaves to my right and I turn to face the noise, my breath quickening in anticipation. She soon reveals herself to me and I sigh softly. Yet again she dons a shorter dress, the same color scheme as before. Every time I see her, she just grows even more beautiful. As she approaches, my eyes are drawn to her locks.

She's once again left her hair to its own devices, falling in gentle waves on her back. Taking a seat next to me she remains silent, her eyes taking in my form. I made an extra effort today to look good, not wanting to offend her eyes. I catch myself in a trance, marveling at the way her hair sparkles against the sunlight.

"What?" I avert my gaze to her eyes and she looks at me curiously, something just beneath the surface that I can't read. I can't blame her for raising walls to me, I know it must've hurt her. "I just love your hair" I whisper and she stares at me as if I've just said the oddest thing. To which I obviously have to follow up with an even more odd comment to top it off.

"Can I touch it?" I ask and a light blush coats her cheeks as she permits me to do so. I slowly raise a hand, our eyes remaining locked on each others. My fingers lightly brush against it and the sensation is enough to send tingles up my spine. Though we've been this close physically before, this feels much different.

I allow my fingers to brush through the strands, being softer than I could've possibly imagined. She doesn't ask me to stop and I don't wish to, so I continue. At some point my hand developed a mind of its own, reaching for her hairline. I push hair behind her ear and she closes her eyes as it travels all the way to the ends.

"Why?" she whispers simply but the pain in her voice is audible and I feel inexplicable guilt. I place my hands in my lap on top of one another, my gaze falling there in shame. "I didn't want you to see me differently" I admit, even though that doesn't even begin to explain the depth of my reasoning.

"What does that mean?" I take a deep breath as I prepare to answer her question, trying to find a concise way to get it out. "When I was a little girl, I used to have many friends" she furrows her eyebrows but I just continue on. "Then one night—at dinner—Ferdinand... he told me that... those girls didn't really like me, they were simply using me" I mutter painfully as I relive that night over again.

"The privileges of being a 'princess' don't measure up to the cost. I isolated myself because I felt as though I couldn't trust anyone. So when I met you... I didn't want for you to look at me that way. That false revering gaze that they all give, respect that hasn't been earned. I just—I guess it was nice to feel... normal for once" I'm not aware of the tears on my cheeks until I feel her finger graze my skin.

My eyes meet hers that glisten with unshed tears as she cups my cheek. No words need to be shared, for the understanding is felt. She too feels like an outsider, I can see it in her eyes now. "I'm sorry" I whisper and she shakes her head dismissively, bringing her other hand to the back of my head and pulling me into her chest.

I close my eyes, tears flowing freely as I hold onto her tighter than is necessary. We simply sit in silence, for how long I'm not quite sure. When I pull away, I clear the dried tears from my cheeks and she wipes her own eyes. I pull a handkerchief out that I keep in the pocket of my trousers and offer it to her.

She chuckles and takes it, I assume it humors her as women aren't typically known to carry such things. I watch on as she pats her face gently, admiring her gentle movements and effortless grace even now. "The king-" "Ferdinand. You may call him that—at least in front of me; I don't mind" I assure her and she raises in eyebrow in disapproval of my interruption which makes me smile.

"Ferdinand... that sounds weird" she giggles and I stare in awe, never having heard such a beautiful sound. "He's not..." she trails and I can deduce what she means from the hesitant look she gives. "No. My father passed away when I was young" I answer and she places a hand on my thigh. It takes everything in me to remain composed, a strength I didn't know I had until this moment.

"You've experienced too much to be so young" she sighs remorsefully, "you see now why time for me isn't quite like it is for others" I chuckle humorlessly. We sit until the sun sets, sometimes talking and others just sharing a comfortable silence. I know we have to go our separate ways but I never wish to part from her.

Though I seek solace in the fact that I'm able to see her again now that the air has been cleared. "Good night, darling" she says and I pause at the sweet name she's given me. I can't remember the last time someone addressed me with such caring words other than Fran on occasion. It brings a big smile to my face as I bid her farewell.

As I make the journey back to the palace, I'm met with the realization that the redhead—though elusive at times—always leaves me with something. Most times it's a longing feeling for more; whether more time or more connection, I don't know. This time, however, all I feel is fulfillment. A shift has taken place and I'm even so hopeful as to believe a relationship is forming.