Moonlight touched her cheek, softening what had once been defiance. Her brow was smooth now, her jaw untroubled. Her hands lay open against the roots, unguarded. The woman he’d danced with was gone. This was Eva.
Perry rubbed his eyes. His vigil had stretched the whole night, and drowsiness clung to him as the sun edged over the horizon. He sat beside her to watch it rise. But his eyes grew heavy, and before long, sleep claimed him.
***
Eva stirred. Morning light filtered through the branches. Perry was beside her—not standing guard, not keeping watch. Just… there. His head rested on his arm, one hand still curled loosely around his staff.
“So… even you sleep,” she whispered.
She rose barefoot, careful not to wake him, and stepped into the hush of morning. At the edge of the thicket, she slipped off her scarf and lifted her face to the wind. Her hair danced behind her—free.
***
Perry woke with a start and reached for her—only to grasp empty air. She was already at the edge of the trees, her silhouette lit by the rising sun, hair and dress stirring in the breeze.
He stepped beside her, rubbing sleep from his eyes. “You didn’t happen to bring any of your scandalous tartlets, did you?”
“Tartlets? Please.” She tilted her head just slightly. “I left those behind—when I left her behind.”
He started to chuckle, but her sharp look cut him short. They stood side by side in silence as light stretched across the path ahead. They had nothing to carry. No provisions. No plan. Only each other. Eva slipped on her shoes, and together they stepped onto the road—northward, toward the Slough.
