Sorry for the delay, it's been a super crazy busy week.
Thanks to all reviewers and my awesome, intelligent, and supportive beta, KaitlynFall.
Enjoy!
Return to Aysel: Another Grimm Tale
Alicia Blade
Chapter 12: The Guardian's Heart
They rowed to the castle, entered, and each prince danced with the girl he loved.
from The Twelve Dancing Princesses
It was past nightfall when they reached the dwarfs' cottage. The moon lent a ghostliness to the treetops that swayed against the black sky, but the cottage was cheery and inviting. Gold light through its windows promised a blazing fire and sanctuary. Serena had looked forward to seeing the seven men since they'd first set out that morning. Their gruff mannerisms and undaunted confidence had been a great source of comfort for her in the battle against Queen Beryl, and now she longed for that same comfort again.
The sound of the horses must have alerted the dwarfs because by the time the travelers were dismounting outside the cottage, all seven dwarfs had come out to greet them—long beards dangling, thick fists perched upon leather belts, small dark eyes peering up at them from beneath bushy eyebrows.
Serena could not keep her giant grin away. She was tempted to rush forward and embrace each of them in rib-crushing hugs, but, recalling their dislike of affection, she just stood her ground and beamed at them instead. She was amazed that she not only remembered their names, but also which one was which: Qualakig, Gralogwid, Fiebrob, Wilopin, Boreetok, Vlonterp, and Kepple.
"Hello," she said to them, breathless. "Do you remember me?"
Gralogwid snorted, but he was the first to smile. "Told ya she'd be back," he said. "I knew she'd be missin' me too much to stay away."
"Ah, you all know tha' I was her favorite," said Kepple.
Serena laughed, surprised to find tears in her eyes. "I missed you all very much," she said, then decided that she didn't care whether or not they liked affection and stooped to give each of them a hug in turn. Some stood frozen in her grip and others squirmed uncomfortably and at least one returned the embrace with a half-hearted pat on the back, but when she pulled away they all had pink cheeks.
"Something's happenin' I suppose," said Boreetok. "You better come in and tell us all about it."
Serena nodded. "We'll tie up the horses first. Oh! And I need to introduce you. This is Darien and Melvin . . . they're my closest friends."
The dwarfs greeted them with reserved kindness, then looked up at the two princes.
"Thought that one was dead," said Vlonterp with a gesture to Endymion.
The prince fidgeted as everyone's attention was diverted to him. Then he smiled and shrugged. "I'm back?"
There was a chorus of satisfied, uncurious grunts from the dwarfs before they filed back into the cottage.
"Don' understand why this sorcerer'd be takin' an elf, of all creatures," said Wilopin. "My life goal's to stay as far away from them as possible."
Serena quirked an eyebrow. She was exhausted from the long ride and the long explanation to the dwarfs upon their arrival, but a mug of mulled wine was soothing her temperament. It was with some surprise that she noticed Wilopin's dislike—along with the nods of his comrades. With the exception of Queen Beryl, she'd never known the dwarfs to dislike anyone.
Of course, her own experience with an elf, Andrew, the Guardian of Romance, had not been particularly favorable. He had been one of the Guardians who'd tried to kill her and her friends, and she did recall the dwarfs' apparent distrust of the elf long before anyone guessed he could be a traitor.
"What's wrong with the elves?" she said, with a sip of her steaming drink.
"They're a loony bunch," Gralogwid said. "All flighty and giggly. They never stop moving. And they never stop laughing. It's enough to drive a sane dwarf to murder."
"So," said Darien, "you don't like them because they're . . . happy?"
The dwarfs looked at him with sympathetic smiles. "You're goin' to see them, aren't you?" said Wilopin. "You'll see what we mean soon enough."
The comfort that Serena's drink had brought was soured by the dwarf's warning. "How far are they? We were hoping to reach them tonight."
Qualakig grunted and shook his head. "No way, Miss Rena. Their village is still a good forty miles southeast of here, and the road'll be too dark for the horses. You'd best stay here the night."
The last ounce of optimism fizzled in Serena's chest. "But . . . what if this is the elf princess's last night with the sorcerer? From what I can tell, she's been taken every night since Mina was taken, and possibly even before then. I have no way of knowing how much longer she'll last before he has her too."
The dwarfs grunted in understanding, but didn't seem as upset by this fact as Serena thought they should have.
"And," she continued, "according to the tale, there will be only one more princess—twelve total. Do we know if there are any more elf princesses? Or a queen?"
"Nay, the queen died in childbirth with the second daughter. Though the king coulda remarried by now. We don' pay much attention to elven current events."
Serena sunk back against the wall. "I need to figure out who the twelfth will be before it's too late." She was unable to voice her own fear—that Diamond wanted to take her, to steal her heart.
Besides, what he wanted did not matter. A Guardian could not also be a princess, could not be part of the story. She was safe.
Or so she hoped.
"Unless we can get to the elves in time to rescue this other girl," said Zoicite. "Before he can capture all twelve at all."
Serena nodded absently and glanced out the small round window by the door. The moon was drooping over the treetops. The sight brought a weariness she'd rarely known before, and her thoughts couldn't help but fix on the sorcerer and his captives.
The elf girl had to last at least one more night and give Serena the chance to follow her down into the sorcerer's castle—and hopefully end this once and for all . . . if she could figure out how to defeat the sorcerer.
That was one dilemma for which she still had no solution.
As everyone packed up for sleep, spreading their blankets and pillows out on the hardwood floor by the fire, Serena turned to Gralogwid beside her. "The dwarfs don't have a princess, do they?"
"Naw, li'l miss. Dwarfs are anarchists by nature." His eyes twinkled at her, and so she laughed, although she had a sneaking suspicion that he was being honest.
Turning away, she set out to unpacking her own bedroll as the dwarfs retreated to their shared attic-bedroom, but as her eyes scanned over her companions—Darien, Melvin, Zoicite—she realized that Endymion was gone.
Startled, she sat back on her heels and looked around the room.
"He went outside," said Darien, already lying down with his head settled on interlaced fingers, eyes closed. "Just now."
"Oh. Thanks," she muttered, and fluffed her pillow. An almost overwhelming temptation to crawl into bed and fall asleep straight away filled her, but she resisted. She and Endymion had not had a moment together since their conversation in the Cashlin guestroom, and she instinctively knew that he was waiting for her.
Besides—she wanted to go to him, to be with him.
For the most part, anyway.
Inhaling a deep breath, she grabbed her cloak off a hook and left the cottage.
The memory that overtook her upon wandering to the back of the cottage and seeing Endymion perched on a large, familiar rock nearly buckled her legs. She paused and gaped at him—the silver moonlight glinting off his ebony hair, sharply carved features almost pale in the darkness, a fiercely burning gaze locked on a wildflower that he twirled between his fingers.
She was sure that he'd sensed her immediately, yet it took him a long time to look up at her, and when he did, the gaze was so intense and so familiar that she had to look away. Thus, with lowered eyes, she approached him through the dewy grass and climbed atop the rock.
"Do you . . . remember this place?" she asked, pulling her feet beneath the folds of her cloak.
When he didn't answer, she dared to look up and meet his gaze, which was soft and tender upon her. But also sad.
He shook his head. "Have I been here before?"
"We were here together once."
"And something happened here?"
This is where I realized that you made my heart beat as quickly as Darien did.
She held her breath and looked out into the woods, toward the hidden, unused well that could not be seen in the shadows. "There's a well back there," she said, pointing. "When we were here, Beryl attacked me through it. She tried to kill me with a poisoned comb."
Instead of looking off into the woods, Endymion focused his gaze on her pointing finger. Reaching up, he pressed the small wildflower into her palm, and then closed her fingers over it. Serena's heart galloped. Endymion did not release her hand, but rather lowered it into his lap, caressing her knuckles with his fingertips.
"Do you love Darien?"
She shivered and looked away. "He and Melvin are my best friends. Of course I love them."
His grip tightened almost imperceptibly on her hand. "But he loves you as more than a friend. That much is clear."
She said nothing. It was painful to think of Darien. It hurt to imagine the rejection he must be feeling as she and Endymion held hands in the moonlight. She didn't want to think of Darien.
"I meant what I said yesterday morning," Endymion continued. "Though my memories are gone, I know that my heart has not changed." He paused and waited for her to look at him, but she could not. Sighing, he lifted her hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to the base of her thumb. "I feel like my heart is hollow, like I am missing something very important that I once possessed. I feel like I've lost you, and my heart knows it, even if my memories don't."
Tears filling her eyes, Serena turned to him again. His own eyes glistened as well, faceted jewels glimmering at her, hinting at both affection and desperation.
"Endymion . . ."
"I just need to know," he said, gripping her hands tighter yet, "that I haven't lost you entirely. I . . . I want to know that you haven't given your heart to someone else."
An sob escaped her and she buried her face into Endymion's shoulder.
"How could I?" she said through her sniffles. "How could I give my heart to anyone else when I never had the chance to give it to you in the first place?"
He tentatively released her hand and wrapped his arms around her shaking body, holding her against him.
"Serena." His breath was hot against her ear. "Can't we have our happy ending this time?"
She gripped his shoulders, gathering his cloak in great fistfuls, and forced her watery gaze to his and that almost-smile she adored so much. Happiness bubbled up inside her from some secret place she had forgotten about.
Contentment. Peace. She felt, in that instant, that she'd come home.
She wanted to laugh. Instead, she squeezed him tighter, and whispered. "Yes, a happy ending. Oh, Endymion, nothing could ever change how I feel about you. How much I lo—"
She gasped and jerked away from him.
Panic flittered across Endymion's face and he reached out, but paused at the dread on Serena's face. "What? What's wrong?"
She couldn't answer. Something had changed. Something was missing.
With her heart fluttering, Serena put a hand to the base of her stomach. The burning, surging sensation of magic—the feeling that had become so normal to her she never even noticed it—had disappeared. It was gone. The strength. The spark of wisdom. The enchantment.
Terrified, she looked again at Endymion, and then allowed her stare to rise up and up to the spot where Endymion's fate hung above his head. To the aura-cloud that alerted Serena to the approaching happiness, or tragedy, of the people in these fairy tales.
But there was nothing there.
The rule of being a guardian of the stories is that you may not have a story of your own.
She could not have a story. Could not have a happy ending. Could not be in love.
Or she could not be a Guardian.
"Serena? What is it? What happened?" His hands were holding her arms so tight that she wondered distantly if he would bruise her—and yet she did not have the willpower to pull away. She returned her gaze to his and was met with fear and uncertainty, and so she closed her mouth and wet her lips and tried to look comforting, even though she could not smile.
"It's okay," she forced herself to say. "I just . . . I'm very tired all the sudden."
He frowned. "Of course. The ride wore us both out. We could use the sleep."
Serena did not feel her feet touching the ground as Endymion led her back to the cottage, dazed and weary and aching with guilt.
An evil sorcerer was kidnapping the princesses and stealing their hearts, planning to do Grimm-knows-what with them.
And the land of Aysel no longer had its Guardian.
Serena awoke to the world spinning. She vaguely noted that the fire on the hearth had burned down to embers. She felt exhausted inside and out.
But she had somewhere to be.
She sat up, her back aching from sleeping on the wooden floor, but it was only a dull pain at the back of her thoughts. There was something very urgent she was supposed to be doing. Someone of utmost importance she was to meet.
And so she forced herself to stand.
She had the notion that her wrinkled riding clothes were pathetically inappropriate for her meeting, but here in the dwarfs' cottage there was nothing to be done about them.
Was she late?
She did not know. She had better hurry.
She put her shoes on. Shoes would be very important for her meeting.
Stepping gingerly over the sleeping forms littered across the floor, she made her way to the door and slipped out into the night air. It was crisp and lovely, but this, too, was only a hazy idea invading her urgent thoughts. She did not pause to enjoy it, but headed straight toward the back of the cottage, bypassing the large stone—there was a memory on that stone but she didn't stop to remember it—and off into the thick, wild woods. Here, she was glad that she had remembered the shoes, for the mossy dampened ground would have been difficult to traverse barefoot.
Her skirt snagged. She gritted her teeth, grabbed up the material, and tugged. There was a rip of fabric and something metallic and chiming fell to the ground, but she was in too much of a hurry to stop. She rushed on.
At last she came to the well.
This, too, was a memory. She did not seem to like the well very much; her stomach twisted at the sight of its black water and crumbling stone wall.
But no matter. She would not linger.
She climbed onto the ledge, stepped out over the rippling nothingness, and plunged.
She was on the stairwell, its rose-tinted walls twisting away from view, guiding her down, down, down . . .
And so, down she went. She knew this stairwell. She'd been here before. Her feet knew the turns and uneven steps, as they took her. Down. Down. She hurried as fast as she could, one hand against the stone wall for balance. She must hurry. She was already late. She must go. Now. Faster. Down. Down. Down.
At last, the stairwell opened up to the beach, and the dark lake with its pulsating current, and the golden castle looming on the horizon, all fire and sparkles.
And there was a man.
Serena gasped, froze, drew back.
It was not the man she was expecting.
But who had she been expecting? She couldn't recall.
But this man had whitish-silver hair and a cold, grim smile, and eyes that dazzled her with their brilliance.
Did she know him? She seemed to think that she knew him from somewhere. Perhaps this was who she was supposed to meet after all . . .
Lips curving upward, he held out his hand to her, and she completed her trek across the sand. The stranger assisted her into a rowboat. Now she realized that they were not alone. A frail-looking elf girl sat already in the boat, watching her with tranquil eyes. She also seemed familiar, a memory from a faraway life.
The man joined them in the boat and began rowing toward the castle.
Serena breathed a sigh of relief and contentment—she had not been too late.
Glancing up, she saw that the man's piercing gaze was upon her. He looked proud, as if he'd just won a very tricky game.
Flustered, she looked down at her hands, and did not look back up until she felt the boat hit ground.
The man tied the boat and then helped her and the elf onto the shore. They followed him up the massive stairs to the castle, and from the moment Serena heard the waltzing music within, she felt a deep, entrenched yearning to dance. The need was so strong it nearly buckled her in half and she barely contained a groan of desperation. Why were there so many stairs? Why couldn't she dance right here? She needed—needed—to dance.
Finally they reached the ballroom, and without pause the man grabbed the elf princess and they were off, spinning across the ballroom floor.
A flicker of envy was short-lived as another man materialized before her, as if from the very candlelight. A tall, broad-shouldered man with black hair and striking blue eyes and a smile full of promise. Serena fell happily into him and they danced.
The night went on and on. The dull aching in Serena's feet hardly invaded her thoughts, which never stopped yearning for the dancing, the spinning, the tapping, the twirling. It seemed the white-haired man would dance only with the elf girl, leaving Serena alone with her prince as the music continued. On and on and on.
But then, finally, he came to her. Her phantom dancing partner vanished and she fell into the white-haired man's arms with a surge of joy. He chuckled, but the sound was low and barely discernible from the music that filled her head.
"How wrong I was about you," he said once they'd danced a full song together. "I had thought you would be the most difficult princess to conquer, and yet here you are, my easiest conquest yet. Even the child princess put up more of a struggle."
She looked up at him with bleary eyes. She was more certain now that she did know him from somewhere, and she was beginning to get the impression that she didn't much like him. She frowned at the thought. Why shouldn't she like him? He was such a very good dancer.
After all, hadn't he been the person she had come to meet? Or was there someone else entirely, someone still waiting for her? Her head spun. She could not think straight. The room became a kaleidoscope of light and sound.
The man's queer smile grew as he watched her puckered face. "Once I saw you in the tower, the solution came to me—so simple, so obvious. After all, those with the coldest hearts are always those most willing to be melted." He brought a finger up and traced it along her sternum.
Serena shuddered, repulsed at the touch, but equally embarrassed of her reaction. What was wrong with her?
And yet the man just laughed, a boisterous laugh that chilled her nerves.
The music stopped.
Her feet paused, calloused and throbbing.
The man did not fight her when Serena pulled out of his arms. The elf had stopped dancing as well and was close by, swaying on her own aching feet.
"Don't you see?" the man said, his voice almost cheerful. "Every heart is a little different. Take my stubborn elf princess here." He walked behind the elf girl and settled his long fingers upon her shoulders. "How many nights has it been, my dear? Nine? Ten? The moon was barely new. Yet here you stand, heart perfectly intact, as untouchable as ever. You are truly an ice queen, are you not?" He wagged a scolding finger at her; she returned only an empty stare. "Fear not, my sweet. I will have you yet."
He kissed the girl's pale cheek, ignoring how she flinched back, then turned his gaze back to Serena. "And yet, some girls are very easily swayed, easily tempted by the promise of eternal love. Or shall we say—a happy ending? These girls have only required two or three nights to entice, to enthrall . . . to exhaust their defenses. But you, why, you are ready to concede at this very moment, aren't you, my sweet Guardian?"
Serena gasped, the word a lightning bolt in her skull.
Guardian. Guardian. She was a Guardian! And she'd come here not to dance, but . . . but to . . . to do what? To rescue somebody. To stop something.
But no, wasn't there someone she was supposed to meet?
She shook her head, cupping her palms over her eyes to shut out the blinding light.
"I set out to collect the hearts of twelve princesses," the man continued. "And yours is sure to be the pinnacle of my collection."
"I'm not a princess," she said, though her dry mouth had trouble forming the words.
"No? Well you certainly aren't a Guardian anymore. And I'm quite sure your mother is a queen. Does that not make you a princess?" He snickered and she tore her hands away from her face to gape up at him.
Not a Guardian?
That's right. She'd given it up for something. But what? And why? What could have possibly possessed her to give up her role as Guardian?
"And now," the man said, eyes darkening into a wicked grin, long, slender fingers reaching out toward Serena's chest. "Let me see my prize."
She stumbled backward, pressing her hands over her heart until her ribs ached. The smoke in her thoughts was clearing, memories filtering to the forefront. The sorcerer stealing the princesses, kidnapping them through enchantment, stealing their hearts through a fake sense of love.
"No. You cannot have it. I will never give it to you."
Her defiance only served to amuse the man.
"I can't have it, you say?" he said with laughter in his voice. "You will never give it to me? Why—that would be such a terrible shame, Lady Serena. Or should I call you Princess Briar Rose?"
She glared, but was half-ignoring him as she tried to think up a means of escape. Her finger brushed the vial strapped around her neck that held the last magic pearl. If only she could make it to the lake . . .
"I'm afraid it would ruin my plan if I couldn't capture your heart. I do, in fact, require twelve, and there are only twelve royal ladies in the land. I'm sure you understand." He craned his neck toward her, whispering as if to a confidante. "Good thing I had planned on your stubbornness. As I said, in the end your heart was the easiest to claim. I am sure you will be properly ashamed."
With a chuckle, he pulled away from Serena and called out, "Oh Prince Charming, won't you come rescue your lady fair?"
Hearing heavy booted footsteps, Serena turned toward the ballroom's entrance, and cried out in surprise.
Endymion.
Panic engulfed her.
Had the sorcerer used the same enchantment to bring him here? What would he do to him? How could she save him?
His eyes landed on her, widening. "Serena! What—?"
"Endymion, run! He'll kill you!"
But he remained frozen at the top of the stairs. His eyes flashed to Diamond. His face drew into a scowl. He drew his sword without hesitation and began prowling toward her and the sorcerer.
"Ah, here is the brave and courageous prince, always so quick to sacrifice himself. Shall we see if he will lay down his life for you twice, fair princess?"
Her stomach churned. "No. Please. Don't hurt him."
"Ah, and why is that?"
As Endymion inched closer, Diamond reached forward and snatched Serena, pulling her back against his chest. She cried out, suddenly pinned in Diamond's arms. His breath steamed against her cheek.
Endymion's knuckles whitened on the sword handle. "Let her go. If it's me you want, I'm here. You have me."
With a sniff of contempt, Diamond traced a cold fingertip along Serena's jaw. "Silly prince, it is not you I want. You are merely a tool." He turned his head and placed a butterfly kiss on Serena's neck. She shuddered.
"This is what I want." His fingers stretched out over Serena's chest, his palm lightly pressed against her heart. "And I've found that sometimes stealing a heart is best done the old-fashioned way."
Serena could see sweat beading on Endymion's brow, could see his gaze filled with horror.
"Run," she tried to whisper, but failed, mouthing only an empty word.
She knew that he would not run. She knew he would not leave her.
But she could not watch him die. Not again.
"And now comes the moment of truth," said Diamond. His palm was cold and clammy on her skin. "Dearest prince, so recently resurrected from the dead. Brought back with only one purpose: to find your long lost love. And have you found her?"
Endymion gulped. His gaze flickered from the hand on Serena's heart to Diamond's boldly taunting grin. "Let her go."
"Certainly. Once you answer a simple question. Do you love her?"
Endymion was shaking; his sword trembled in his grip.
Sweat and tears fell into Serena's eyes, stinging her. "Endymion . . ." She watched him struggle to gulp.
He murmured, "This has all happened exactly how you wanted it to, hasn't it?"
"Was that a yes?" pressed Diamond.
Serena's heart thumped, pressing against her bones, expanding, yearning to escape. Endymion's eyes were full of uncertainty, indecision—searching for a way to save her. To end this.
But what else could he say?
"Yes," he choked. "I love her."
A sob escaped Serena—both horrified and elated. Her cheeks were soaked with tears; her throat was parched with crying; her heart expanded until she could no longer contain it.
Endymion still loved her.
He was here. He was hers. And he still loved her.
But as nails pierced her flesh, she wished he did not.
She screamed—but her heart being ripped from her chest was not as agonizing as she'd expected.
The knowledge that Diamond could still kill Endymion hurt far worse.
"Serena!"
Holding her beating heart in one hand, Diamond pushed her toward Endymion. She gasped and stumbled into his arms as he leapt forward to catch her, dropping his sword. "Serena!"
She was still breathing, but she felt that all her strength had been drained from her limbs, leaving her nothing but a hollow shell.
"Do not go to sleep just yet, Princess," Diamond said with a gleeful chuckle in his voice as he secured Serena's heart in a small box. "I have another surprise you will not want to miss."
She barely heard him. She was limply grasping Endymion's shoulders and blinking up into his terrified blue eyes and wondering why they no longer stirred her to her very soul.
"First, a prize for Prince Charming. You have quite earned it." From his cloak, Diamond produced a small crystal and held it up so that it caught the light of a thousand gleaming candles. "Your memories."
The crystal fell to the marble floor and shattered.
Endymion gasped and pulled away. Unable to steady herself, Serena crumpled to her knees and watched, mute, as Endymion grasped his head with both hands.
He froze suddenly and remained motionless, but for his shivering.
Serena held her breath.
His memories. He was going to remember her. But this knowledge did nothing to her senses. There was no thrill there. No delight, even as she waited for that flicker of recognition in his eye. A smile. An embrace that she would barely feel.
"Oh god," he finally murmured, his voice thick with remorse. Breathing shallowly, he gaped down at Serena. There was recognition. But no smile followed it. No embrace. His lip trembled. "What have I done?"
The sorcerer's heels clipped loudly on the floor as he walked behind Endymion and placed a hand on the prince's shoulder. "To be fair, you had no way of knowing you were falling for the wrong girl." His grin widened. "Lady Serena, allow me to introduce you to someone who is very near and dear to me. Sapphire—my baby brother."
With a wave of the sorcerer's hand, the spell fell away.
Serena found herself staring into blue eyes, but not the blue eyes she loved, and they were filled with such guilt it almost hurt to look at him.
"I am so sorry," he said to her, pulling away from Diamond. "I am so sorry, Serena. I . . . I thought . . . I didn't know . . ."
Serena just stared up at him. Realizing.
There was no Endymion.
He had never come back to her. He was still dead. She would still never see him again.
He still did not know how deeply she loved him.
These thoughts whirred, unceasing, and yet . . . shouldn't she have been devastated?
She reached up and pressed her fingers against her chest.
She should have been crying.
She should have been heartbroken.
Instead, she was all emptiness.
She turned her head away. Her wandering fingers discovered the vial at her neck and gripped it. She spotted the elf princess loitering mere feet away from her. Their eyes met. Serena had never seen a girl looking more miserable, as if this event was just one more tragedy in a life filled with tears. Was she feeling the heartbreak that Serena could not?
But without a heart, and without emotions, the only thing left is reason.
This girl would not be taken tonight.
And tomorrow, Serena's companions would find her.
"Darien," she said, putting as much force into the word as she could, though she felt nothing at the name.
The elf blinked down at her.
"Darien?" said the sorcerer with a mock groan. "Was there ever a girl as fickle as you? Endymion or Darien? Guardian or princess?" Chortling, he paced to the raised platform along the north wall, muttering to himself about hearts and spells.
Serena ignored him and pulled on the vial until the strap broke. "Darien," she said again. She reached out for the girl's hand and pressed the vial into her palm.
The girl remained frozen, even as her hand tightened around the vial.
"That's enough," said the sorcerer. From the corner of her eye, she could see him hovering over the long oak table, smiling down on eleven boxes. He did not even look at her as he said, "Now you may rest, my little sleeping beauty."
Heavy fog quickly overtook her, and for the second time in her life, Serena fell into a dreamless, timeless sleep.
Will you all be less upset with me if I promise to post again before the weekend? ^^;; please review, thanks!
