Seeker and Beautiful sat on the banks of the stream. The water gleamed in the sun, dancing playfully around smooth stones. Across the water rose the proud silhouette of the Stately Palace. He thought back to the story he’d read in his Book. He could almost see the valiant warrior overcoming insurmountable odds to win the prize he desired.
The Interpreter had spared no expense to teach a simple truth: you must fight for the things you dearly want. He thought of the parable he’d read in the study—the merchant who sold everything he owned to buy one perfect pearl. He had never met anyone quite like her.
Beautiful had taken off her shoes and was dangling her toes in the water. She set her handbag down on the rock beside her and pulled out a small linen parcel, bound neatly with twine. With careful fingers, she opened it, revealing two sandwiches—spiced meat and cheese tucked between slices of Miss Cheerful’s morning bread.
“Funny,” she muttered, almost under her breath, “I thought, make one for your h—” She stopped abruptly, her face flushing bright red. She dropped her gaze and laughed softly. He would never get tired of that. “Ridiculous,” she exclaimed. “What a notion!”
Seeker shared a story Companion had once told him. Nobody could be quite as funny as Companion. She laughed—and the sound was more melodious than music.
He passed her his canteen. It had been Companion’s—a parting gift before he left for home. She pressed it to her lips—those gorgeous lips—took a sip and handed it back.
“Hold still,” she said, wiping a crumb from the corner of his mouth with her handkerchief. A tingle lingered on his skin where she touched him.
He sighed. This was the best day of his life. Somewhere nearby, a bird chirped in agreement.
