Page 44 of Lost Starlight
“You are dramatic,” I laughed.
“I am not known for being dramatic. You, however? Now, that is a different story entirely.”
“Really? That was intentional. These puns of yours–”
“I am an open book, Lady Gwendolyn Darling.” He kissed the side of my neck.
“Peter, you are incorrigible,” I giggled.
“No, but do not prune me back; I may have it within me if you let me blossom,” he said, pulling away to look me in the eye as he wiggled his eyebrows. That was when I let out a loud laugh–and snorted. I placed a hand over my face.
“I am so sorry—”
“Sorry for laughing? I love your laugh.”
“Peter, do be honest. I snorted.”
“I love snorting. Do it more often, and then I shall truly know I am making you happy.”
Present Day
My cheeks felt so warm just thinking of that memory.
I had a strange feeling then, one that had become more common. A sort of joy in knowing that I was accepted for the parts of me that were less than ideal. Mother had always expressed that no one was interested in divergence from or anything less than perfect.
Is she wrong?Yes, and I needed to remember that. Peter had helped me so much already to be able to understand the many times she had been unreasonable in her expectations. I was learning that while being prim and proper was important, at times, it was also okay to be oneself–to show those who love you who you truly are. I felt a beautiful safety when I was with Peter, a security that I had never felt at home nor with any other acquaintance or friend.
Perhaps, that is what it was that always drew me to him. He was not at all what I thought a prince would be—well, what my mothersaida prince would be.
I still remembered that day when my mother said she had secured a position for me, reading to the Queen.Usually, lords and ladies in our world did not work, but Mother said it was too good of an opportunity to give up. She said that being close to the Queen would mean that I could find a better husband. I never expected that I would be reading to thePrince. I was so grateful I did. So grateful for those sparkling starlight eyes, his dazzling, gleeful grin, and his questions after my reading–the discussions that continued for hours, and all of the light he pressed into my soul–and how he slowly caused me to fall madly in love with him.
“Wendy? Gwendolyn? Do you hear me?” Michael was right beside me with a questioning look.
“Oh, sorry, I was thinking. I think I like you calling me Wendy. I used to hate it.”
“I understand why you hated it, John and I thought we were so clever with our teasing.”
“Yes, but now it’s endearing,” I said, trying to rid myself of my fears.
He took the teacup from my hand and smiled. “Are you afraid?”
“Until I am reunited with Peter, I will be afraidfor him. While I do not think the pixies mean him harm, they do not understand humans and our needs. I have a feeling that he is well, but until I see him—”
Micheal placed his warm hand on my shoulder once more.
“You do not have to hide all your feelings. I know that Mother taught us to be strong and to never show weakness, but you do not have to do that with me, sister.”
“Is that what she did?” I questioned.
“Mother most likely did what she thought was best, although I do feel that she is a very prideful and selfish person. Perhaps, she was raised to be that way. Father is not like that, and although he is quiet and appears intimidating at times, I have learned that Father is actually rather shy. He doesn’t like confrontation. He and Mother had an arranged marriage, you know.”
“What? They did?” I was confused. “Father isshy?”
“Yes, I know; it’s interesting to think about, right? She came from a noble family—royalty in her bloodline. Father was a lord, and they were matched and got married.”
“So, Mother and Father do not love each other?”
How would it feel to be married and not love the person you are with?
