Bound by Death

I’m not sure there was ever a moment in my life that I wanted to kiss someone.

But I’m making up for lost time now. I want nothing more in all the realms than to lift Euthalia’s veil and claim her lips with mine. But that’s not what my bride asked for.

My hands go for her waist, but I miss, finding her hips instead. There they remain, unwilling to move. “Very well, little butterfly.”

I can’t tell through that Shade-Kissed veil of hers, but I think she might be smiling. I smile back.

Will dancing with my wife save my life? No, no it will not. But it will make what remains of my lifetime, whether it be only a few more moments or the rest of eternity, a lot more bearable.
Euthalia’s hands reach up over my shoulders and wrap around my neck. Her fingers play in the ends of my hair.

I’m not sure which of us starts it, but then we’re both swaying. Her hips twist and turn beneath my touch, her warmth invades my body, and her scent encompasses me. She smells like dewdrops and a rare bloom I have no name for.

“Tell me more about yourself, Prince of the Dead,” she murmurs in that soft-spoken voice of hers that draws me ever closer.

At this point, I’m ready to bare all my secrets. Except, I’ve already done that in the most awkward ways possible. Why did I blabber everything at a public reverie and not save it for now when I might be able to bargain them for kisses?

“I’ve said enough about myself,” I say. “No need to put you to sleep when I need a dance partner. Tell me about you.”

“What do you want to know?” Her voice hitches, and I wonder what else she has to hide besides her face.

I’m about to regret my next words, but I’ll regret not asking them more. I think. “Who’s Omar?”

Euthalia goes completely still in my arms.

Then the moon wanes completely, bathing us in shadows.