Lauren Fairrose's Arc

Chapter 3 of 3

Prince Jeffery walked the flower-edged stones to her door. A tall lantern glowed beside the step, soft as held breath. He saw the small statue then — two girls, hands joined, Rosalind and Lauren. His chest tightened. A relative, he thought. A relative tricked me here. He knocked. Lauren opened the door. Behind her, plain on the wall, hung the bright painted portrait of the two of them, flower-crowned and smiling. "Jeffery," she said. Her face was stern. "Why. Why would you." She stopped. Her eyes dropped to the floor. "I wanted to speak with you," she said quietly. "I got scared. I know Rosalind is the one you wanted. I will go home ashamed." He looked at her face. He listened to her voice. He had not truly spoken with Rosalind. Not once. He had only watched. And the one he had watched, he understood now, had been her. He stumbled on the words. "It's — it's alright. You're beautiful." Then nothing. He stood frozen. "Alright," Lauren said. "I hope you forgive me." She closed the door soft between them. The portrait stayed on the wall behind her. The prince stayed on the step. Something had turned, and neither of them could turn it back.