Page 14 of Vanish

My inclination was to keep that precious memory locked away as I’d previously done, but the more threads that bound us, the less chance she had of disappearing. Heat warmed my cheeks, but I pushed through the anxiety holding back my emotions.

“That was when I started to fall in love with you, and you became not a duty but someone I chose for myself.”

As if my words possessed a power of their own, her shimmery form grew more distinct—still transparent and intangible as I discovered when I once more tried to take her hand, but sharper and more colorful in the light of the arriving day.

She blinked down at herself and lifted her hands to wriggle her fingers experimentally before slowly meeting my gaze. “As before, something about you prevents me from fully fading away. Perhaps the explanation is love after all.” Her cheeks tinged pink and her voice softened at the wordlove.

Oh, how desperately did I want it to be love. Perhaps for the moment my feelings would be enough. If such a simple memory had helped restore her, perhaps others would strengthen the connection between us and keep her here…even those that were made up.

I rested my hand atop where hers clung to the railing. Though it possessed no form, I thought I imagined the softness of her skin beneath my touch. “I love you, Lisette.” This confession at least wasn’t a lie. I could only hope one day she would bestow such beautiful words upon me in return.

I made a silent vow: even if she never grew to care for me as I did her, I would do all within my power to free her from the curse, as well as the engagement should she choose…even at the cost of losing her forever.

CHAPTER8

Lisette

My mind whirled as I drifted alongside Lucien down the tower’s twisting steps, struggling to piece together the scene that had just unfolded between us yet unable to make sense of it no matter how many times I examined it. Lucien’s voice filled my mind, as clear as if he repeated the words.

That was when I started to fall in love with you, and you became not a duty but someone I chose for myself.

My heart twinged, as if fighting against the shackles of insecurity that had kept it dormant for so long in order to lift. I peered sideways at the faint, rosy hue brushing his stoic expression, barely discernible in the morning light tumbling through the window. His blush confirmed words I couldn’t make sense of in my faded recollections.

The long hours of the recent night had been measured by my failure to restore my stolen memories. I’d hoped wandering the corridors, which as Lucien’s betrothed I must have spent a lot of time in, would help me stumble upon any hint of what I’d forgotten, but in the end my elaborate game of hide-and-seek proved futile, as if the curse had erased not only my recollections but all evidence that might restore them…except from the prince.

My search eventually drew me atop the tower, as my hopes for a future distinct from my family’s indifference that I’d kindled the last time I’d stood here were as far away as the distant horizon. Lucien’s memory differed from the sense of disappointment that lingered here, making it not another place of sorrow but a place that signified the promise of a beginning.

It was here that I started to fall in love with you.

I struggled to cling to these words that felt like nothing more than wisps of fog, impossible to hold in my intangible grasp.

Why couldn’t I recall the shafts of light from my past, leaving only darkness to cloud my recollection? The curse had swallowed all that was good and beautiful, claiming every hope I might find in the visible world to force me to succumb. If not for Lucien’s confession acting as my sole anchor, I might have already drowned.

Was my forgotten love for him what truly what kept me here? Despite that sensible conclusion, I couldn’t shake the sense that something wasn’t quite right, as if he was hiding something behind his stoic countenance and carefully chosen words. The silence cloaking our footsteps only deepened my unease.

For having just declared himself, he didn’t look at me until we reached the base of the stairs. His rigid expression faltered just enough for a hint of shyness to peek through. “I’m worried you might vanish at any moment. Might I hold your hand?”

Even without a body, I experienced the sensation of my stomach flipping, a feeling that with my anticipation wasn’t entirely unpleasant. “Have we held hands before?”

“Of course, many times.” Though confidence filled his tone his voice hitched, whether in uncertainty or nerves I couldn’t tell. I thought I glimpsed a hint of guilt before he hastily averted his eyes.

I searched my chaotic jumble of memories for the event he described, but only recalled a snippet of fumbling hands and our fingers barely grazing before awkward hesitance caused us to hastily withdraw. Rather than make another attempt, I seemed to recall that we’d spent the remainder of our garden stroll walking some distance apart without even linking arms, the weight of embarrassment and discomfort between us as thick as the blossom-infused air.

I struggled to retrieve any memory that might have followed this ill-fated first attempt, but it was the only one I managed to extract. My discouraged sigh drew his worried gaze that sought for an explanation. “I’m sorry, I only remember the first moment we tried. From what I recall, we didn’t quite manage it.”

Crimson tinged his cheeks, but his lips curved slightly upwards. “My suave attempt must have left quite an impression for it to survive such a dastardly curse.”

I struggled to immerse myself within the recollection until a feeling rose above the shyness that tinged the remainder of the memory. His concern deepened as he noticed my darkening expression. “What is it?”

I hesitated, not wanting to voice my ridiculous insecurity, even as I wasn’t able to fully let go of one of the few portions of memory I’d been able to retrieve. “When we didn’t try again, I remember fearing you didn’t want to touch me.”

He sobered and evenly met my gaze. “It pains me that you’ve suffered from the burden of that mistaken assumption all of this time, one strong enough to remain out of the curse’s reach. That assumption couldn’t be further from the truth—I can assure you that only shyness held me back, nothing more.”

My lingering confusion withheld my longings to believe him. Shyness didn’t fit the confidence displayed in his usual royal bearing, even as I’d already glimpsed enough of this foreign emotion to believe he’d been victim to the same paralyzing affliction that prevented me from moving forward.

“Truly?” My already faint voice seemed smaller midst my uncertainty.

As if determined to prove himself, he straightened in resolve. “I feel horrible for unintentionally causing you any doubt. I know the gesture won’t be enough to make amends, but might I have another chance?” With a steadying breath he extended his hand towards me and then waited, an invitation for me to be the one to close the distance separating us.

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