Page 61 of Façade

Unable to look at her, I returned my focus to the rock resting on my palm before my attention was quickly beckoned by the gentle smile grazing her lips as she watched me admire it. “You’d think you held the most precious of jewels.”

“Gemstonesareminerals, rocks, or other organic matters chosen for their beauty and rarity before they’re faceted and polished, but I much prefer rocks in their natural state, the way the earth created them rather than what someone else made them.”

Just like her. Was that why I was so drawn to her, because she’d refused to be faceted into the polished royal that had been expected of her?

I paused before I could launch into a more detailed explanation, afraid of boring her, but she only continued to smile. “You disappoint me, husband; I was expecting an entire narration on this rock’s type, along with a myriad of details.”

I raised a skeptical brow. “Are you so bored that desperation has compelled you to seek entertainment from the most tedious source?”

“You give yourself too much credit; you’re not as tedious as you think you are.”

I couldn’t help it, I laughed. “I can’t keep up with you: one moment you find me dull, the next I’ve risen in your prestigious estimation to ‘not tedious,’ a great honor.”

She lifted her chin to a haughty angle that did little to dim the light dancing in her eyes. “One of a wife’s many tasks is to keep her husband humble, and you have long forced me to overwork in this particular task.”

I laughed again, and with that sound the last of the awkwardness filling the space between us faded away. I nudged my horse close enough that our legs grazed, a proximity she made no motion to draw away from.

“I’d hate to disappoint you, so I shall regale you with tales about not only this rock but every other we pass, anything to indulge my wife.” My voice caught on the wordwife, one I wouldn’t be able to apply to her for much longer.

She nodded eagerly, but though I’d always wanted to find someone with whom to share my passion, now that the moment had come, I found something more interesting than even my favorite hobby:her. I wanted to know more about her, learn of her interests, hear stories about her childhood, study her facial expressions to discern what she might be thinking, and discover every hidden thought and desire.

The remainder of the morning was measured by our exchange of stories. Each wove the threads that bound us closer together; I could listen to her tales forever. Our time together was so pleasant I was left entirely unprepared for the sudden storm that occurred during our break to rest the horses.

While she soaked her feet in the nearby stream, I took it upon myself to pick her favorite berries just as I’d done the day before, drawn to her happiness in a way I had no explanation for. I left them for her on the log near her discarded shoes and went about my duties.

I slowed when I heard her approach and waited in anticipation for her to notice my gesture. I kept my back to her and tried to appear busy as I pretended to groom my horse, fighting to resist the temptation to watch her. But I could well imagine the way her eyes would light up when she saw her treat the way they always did when something pleased her, followed by her excited intake of breath.

I waited…but there was only silence, one humming not with joy but a far more somber energy. After more restless waiting that I endured with an embarrassing amount of impatience, I succumbed to her pull and turned around.

I expected her silence to indicate she was happily consuming my surprise treat, much as she’d done upon noticing the berries I’d picked for her yesterday…but instead I found her gaping at them, her hand half raised to her mouth and her face deathly pale.

Alarm surged and I rushed over. “What is it, Evie? Are you alright?” At her continued silence, my concern deepened. I crouched to better peer into her rigid expression. “Evie?”

She slowly lifted her gaze, her features twisted in pain. “Are these from you?” She gestured to the berries.

My cheeks warmed and I managed a nod. To my surprise, her expression hardened.

“I see.” She suddenly tossed them aside; the berries scattered across the dirt, staining the ground in violet splotches. I gaped at them before meeting her fiery gaze, filled not with the spirit I’d come to crave but anger. “I’m no fool, Ryland. I may have been raised in a palace, but unfortunately for you, my tendency to be drawn to unconventional hobbies has provided me with enough knowledge in herbology to detect simple poisons.”

Poison?I was so startled by the word I couldn’t find my voice to respond; I could only watch as she pulled her anger firmly around her like a shield and lifted her chin with a defiance that dispelled the sadness filling her eyes.

“You seem well versed in recognizing poisonous berries.” Unlike the previous times when such accusations had been spoken in jest, no hint of amusement filled her rigid expression, only pain, as if I’d betrayed her.

“What?” I stammered. “These aren’t—“

A sharp breath seized hold of the defense I ached to give when she lifted the berry she still held up to eye level. Upon closer examination, I realized with escalating horror that it wasn’t a hawthorn berry that she so enjoyed, but a holly berry of a similar color that grew in cooling temperatures…which even I knew to be deadly poisonous. My heart sank.

For a moment I could only stare in blank confusion before I hurried towards the bush where I’d picked the berries. While one contained hawthorn berries, a holly bush grew alongside it. Dread pooled in my stomach. I was certain I hadn’t made such a dire mistake as to pick the wrong ones…had I?

I slowly faced Evie’s glare, but I scarcely felt the piercing look before I suddenly caught sight of a tinge of red staining her lip. Panic rose in a swelling wave. I seized her by the shoulders, in my desperation holding her more tightly than I meant.

“Did you eat one?” When she didn’t immediately answer, I took the liberty of parting her lips to search. She didn’t move, and though she allowed me to touch her, her hardened look didn’t fade.

“I put it in my mouth but didn’t swallow; I noticed the taste was off almost immediately.”

That answer wasn’t near satisfactory enough. “Is any still in your mouth?”

“I…don’t think so.”

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