Page 28 of A Waltz with Lord Death
A worried crease formed between the other woman’s brows. “No, I am not. Are you a fortune-teller as well?”
“…No… Only inquiring after your health.”
Please, no,her heart cried.Not Elise. Death, you must be mistaken.
Elise grimaced suddenly at her husband’s bawdy laughter. “I must go. It was lovely to see you again, Meira, and to meet your handsome fiancé.”
When she scuttled away, Meira turned on Death, only to find a smirk on his face. He leaned in closer. “It seems we are suddenly betrothed, my dear Meira.”
“Impossible,” she hissed. “You haven’t even asked me for my hand.”
“I have, and you have refused several times.” He lightly grasped her fingers in his. “Meira, will you have me and become Lady Life?”
“No.”
“Then there you have it.” He dropped his hand and moved away from her. The loss of heat from him sent a shiver down her spine.
Before he managed to get too far, she grabbed onto his hand and pulled him back to face her. “Tell me what you meant about Elise. Is she in danger?”
A contemplative look entered his eyes, and his dark gray irises transitioned into deep black onyx as he held her gaze. His jaw visibly clenched a couple times before he answered. “I do not know what will happen to her. What I am more concerned about is why hers and your death dates are only hours apart.”
Meira dropped her hand as if scalded. Her lips parted in surprise moments before her heart quickened with panic. “Wh-wh-when?”
“As I have already said, I will not tell you.”
Her hands started to shake, and to hide the tremors, she hid them behind her back. “Do not allow me to die, Death. You don’t have to take my soul.”
His words came out harsh. “You would rather I allow you to bleed out dry from a deep wound? To burn for oxygen as you hang from a noose? To scream out with unending pain as you get crushed in a rockslide? I do not know how you will die, Meira, but as I have said before, death is a mercy.”
“Tell me this. Will I die soon?”
“You know I cannot tell you. It could be minutes. It could be years.”
Infuriating man. It was a simple question, but all he seemed to do was avoid giving her answers. She lowered her voice. “I would ask that you help me. We both know the wards won’t work to keep the plague away. Don’t allow sickness to touch these people.”
He shook his head and lightly caressed her cheek with his finger. “You are asking the wrong person, love. The right person was killed in a duel, lying helplessly in a prison of time. If I interfere, I will only make it worse.”
“But you will find another Life. You have already been searching for months.”
“Indeed.”
“Death,” a breathless voice said behind him, a voice belonging to Betha. To Lady Time. “I found someone. A lovely young lady. The daughter of a merchant. To prevent something similar to the last incident, I have frozen her in time so she cannot be killed. We must make haste.”
With a nod, Death grabbed a hold of Betha’s hand, and in the blink of an eye, they disappeared as if they had not been there in the first place.
A stab of jealousy cut through her heart as she stared at the spot he had stood only moments earlier. If Death chose someone else as Life, she had an awful, horrible feeling that she would be cut out of his life for good.
Was losing him worth all of this?
Her gaze took in the splendor of the great hall, of eyes watching her with a measure of respect in them. She could become someone worth remembering. But would it be worth it for the one man she had come to care for to forget her?
Chapter 12
After the last incident with Isaac’s death in the fire, Death refused to take any chances to let another prospect sift through his fingers.
He and Betha transported to a snowy hilltop overlooking a field of white. Trees sprouted up around them, providing shelter from a bright sun melting away what remained of winter in this part of the world. Green shoots poked their heads out of thawed ground, making way for spring flowers.
The air rippled with Time’s power, bringing his attention to the young woman standing behind them, frozen with a foot mid-step. Straight, braided brown hair had come loose from the confines of her winter hood, her dress red and purple, cut in the fashion of those who lived further south. But even more, a light echoed in her soul. Not a light of Life like Meira, but a light of kindness. Of hope. Of love.
