Page 11 of Stitches
“What can I say? It’s hard to find good conversation these days.”
Thatwasa barb, however playful, since Ashmedai used to visit Braxton daily, but lately, he might not venture to the edge of the wood but once a month. That wouldn’t be a problem if Brax left the tower more, but it brought them to a crossroads.
Ashmedai reclaimed his tea and finished it in a gulp.
“Youareinterested in him,” Braxton said.
“Curious, that’s all.”
Braxton’s smile lingered cryptically. Then he headed to the sink, taking their cups, and dumped the remainders from his own.
It was the loss of Braxton’s gaze that bolstered Ashmedai to ask his real question. “Brax… why does he look like Cullen?”
Braxton’s head lifted without turning to look at Ashmedai. “I can’t help that the power that gave Levi life comes from the Source Crystal.”
“It’s not only his eyes. His face, he….”
“He looks like me.”
“Yes, but… maybe it’s the stitches, or….”
Braxton turned to stare with such incredulity that Ashmedai had to wonder if he was imagining the resemblance—or if he simply wanted itto be so.
“Never mind. I’m sorry, it’s just….”
“Festival Day.”
“Yes.”
The sorrow that filled Braxton’s expression mirrored Ashmedai’s own. “It’s been a thousand years, Ash.”
“I know. And it can be a thousand more. I’ll still wonder what might have happened differently.”
The commiseration on Braxton’s face was a connection that Ashmedai could achieve with no one else in all the Shadow Lands.
Especially when Braxton said, “So will I.”
Levi
The front door opened—Levi heard it distinctly and flattened himself to the wall of the tower. He’d been gardening. He would swear to Braxton if questioned later that that’s all he’d been doing since he hurriedly made tea and then dashed out the back door after seeing Ashmedai approaching.
It wasn’t Levi’s fault if he’d left the kitchen window open a crack and stuck close to that window while Braxton and Ashmedai spoke.
He wondered what Prince Cullen must have looked like if Ashmedai saw a resemblance in Levi. There were few surviving paintings or tapestries from that time. The people of the Dark Kingdom preferred to think of the now and their history after the curse, rather than who they’d been before.
While Levi could only vaguely imagine how the Amethyst Kingdom and its people might have appeared before the curse, he did sometimes think on it. The trees, many near him where the wood began, wouldn’t have been black or shimmered as though covered in diamond dust, but brown with bright green foliage. Well, in autumn they might have been any number of colors, and in winter, they would have been barren like now, but they had variation throughout the seasons, like Dreya’s hair. In the Shadow Lands, trees were always the same.
So too the luminescent plant life they cultivated and oftentimes ate would have been more greens and browns instead of colors like iridescent blue.
What had Ashmedai looked like before, Levi wondered? An elf, still with pointed ears? Still pale? Still commanding? Still beautiful?
Oh, he must have still been beautiful.
Levi readied himself to turn and risk a peek around the tower to see how far the king had gotten. Perhaps he would follow for a little while—
“Are you a doll?”
The unexpected voice nearly caused Levi to yelp, and he threw his hands up to cover his mouth and prevent it. The voice had come from behind him, but it wasn’t Ashmedai, for the voice was small and higher pitched.
