Page 2 of Charming Artemis

The man pulled a handkerchief from his pocket—a large square of very white fabric with tiny flowers embroidered along one edge—and gave it to her. “You are very young to be here all on your own.” He spoke with a look on his face and a sound in his voice that said he was worried about her. “Is your family nearby?”

“I lost them,” she said with a sniffle. “There were too many people, and I got knocked down, then I couldn’t tell where I was.”

“Dab at your nose and eyes,” he said. “I’ll help you find your family.”

“You will?”

He smiled tenderly. “I’ll not leave you until you’ve found them.”

It was a kind offer, yet it made her cry. She wasn’t sure why.

The man didn’t scold her or walk away in disgust.

“Cry all you need. Holding back tears only makes them fall harder.”

He understood. She knew he did. Oh, how she’d needed someone to see her, to understand the tears that sat on her heart all the time.

She scooted closer to him and rested her head against his chest. He set an arm lightly around her. His gentle touch, the kindness in his eyes reminded her of Persephone—comforting and reassuring—yet he was more of an age with her father. Her father, who never noticed her the way her sister did. She closed her eyes and cried ever harder. She held the man’s handkerchief to her face, too distraught to wipe or dab at the flowing tears.

“I am so sorry you’ve had a difficult day, Princess,” he said quietly.

“Every... day is... difficult,” she said, her cries breaking the sentence up in odd bits. “We have to do wash for people. And I... carried the basket, but my father didn’t notice. He doesn’t ever notice.”

“He doesn’t notice baskets?”

“He doesn’t noticeme.”

The man’s voice somehow grew even kinder. “I am sorry.”

She took a deep but shaking breath. No matter that her heart and mind were spinning about faster than a top, she felt safe and protected. She never felt that way. Not ever.

“If you would like, Princess,” he said, “we can walk about the town and look for your family. Or we can sit here and see if they come down this road looking for you.”

“Do you think they are looking for me?” she asked hopefully.

“I am certain they are.”

That brought her more comfort than she would have expected. “Do you think we should go look for them or wait here?”

He gave her a light, fleeting squeeze. “I leave that decision entirely to you.”

Artemis spun the man’s handkerchief around in her hands as she pondered. Walking up and down the roads of Heathbrook would likely be tiring. But if they sat on that spot waiting for her family to come looking and they never came, that, she knew, would utterly break her heart. “I think we should look for them,” she said.

“And so we shall.” The man got to his feet, then helped her to stand.

She slipped her hand into his, and he didn’t pull away, neither did he squeeze hard or yank her about. He allowed Artemis to determine their path, stopping her only once when she suggested they walk down a narrow and dim side alley.

“Best keep to the light, Princess,” he said.

They walked up and down the streets. He paused whenever their path crossed with anyone else. She eyed the person or people, but it was never her family. All the while, he asked her fun questions: what her favorite color was, if she had a favorite nursery rhyme, what she would eat if she could have any food in the world, what her favorite game was. Her tears dried as they walked about. The loneliness that usually filled her heart shrank away. She laughed when he was silly, and she held ever faster to his hand.

“That is the sweetshop,” she said, pointing to it. “My brothers would look in the window and imagine having a candy.”

“Could your brothers be inside?” her rescuing knight asked.

“They’re gone now,” she said. “They won’t be home again.”

“Would you like to pick a sweet, Princess?”

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