Our New World
By Laura Schiller
Based on: Stravaganza
Copyright: Mary Hoffman
Falco woke slowly, as usual, and it took a while until he realized that something was different from the way he usually slept. Two things, in fact. One was the pain in his bad leg – it seemed to have lessened somehow. The other was the warmth. As a Chimici prince, Falco was used to sleeping in a magnificent four-poster bed with silk curtains and thick, fluffy goosefeather blankets in the winter. But this was different...a strange and awkward, but beautiful feeling. Someone was sleeping next to him, nestled spoon-fashion against his back. It was a girl, and the sound of her soft, even breathing made all his memories of last night come back in a rush.
Georgia. Giving him her eyebrow ring for his first stravagation. Whispering in his ear about her world and all its wonders: horseless chariots, speaking across distances...falling asleep to the sound of her low, scratchy voice, her breath stirring the hairs at the back of his neck.
He opened his eyes – and if it hadn't been for Georgia, he would have exclaimed out loud. As it was, he had to rub the sleep out of his eyes to make sure of what he was seeing.
He had gone to sleep in his room – a big bed, a wooden clothes chest and washstand, tapestries on the wall. Elegant, but not too showy. This place...well, to be quite honest, it made him worry a little about the state of Georgia's finances. Such a tiny room! The ceiling was slanted, the window had no curtains, and the two pictures on the wall – horses, of course – were unframed. The furniture was plain to the point of being Spartan – no carvings, no decorations.
But then, she couldn't really be poor, could she? After all, she wore silver jewelry. And there was that black box on her desk – it reminded him of what Luciano had said about his teacher's mirrors. This must be the 'computer' she had described. And she had many small china horses standing on a shelf, in every color and position imaginable, even winged horses (like her talisman) and unicorns. That made him smile. Georgia reminded him of a horse herself sometimes – shy and skittish at first meeting, but a steadfast, loyal friend.
"Falco?"
Her soft, early-morning whisper touched something inside him, like the ring of a bell. He turned around to look at her – she was pale, sleep-tousled, with dark shadows around her wide hazel eyes, and absolutely beautiful.
"Are you okay?" she asked.
He wanted to reach out and smooth that line between her eyebrows away. He wanted to look at her face for hours, counting her freckles and memorizing the lines of her nose and cheekbones, the curve of her eyebrows. He wanted to wake up with her like this the next morning, and every morning after that.
He felt dizzy and bubbly, as if he'd been drinking too much prosecco. It was the potential of it – strange new feelings, a strange new world, his to explore and discover. A world of miracles. Georgia's world, and now his.
His face broke into a brilliant, joyful smile.
"We did it!"