Summer knew Isaac had been there, at the tournament. She didn’t know he had stayed to attempt the Task. The previous knight had been one of the boorish sort, who obviously felt that her inability to smile was merely the result of some superior game she was playing with them all. The last few minutes of his time had been spent in a hail of insults, bringing her near tears and dragging up wholly unwelcome memories.
She was not even looking at the door when Isaac entered, but standing before the fireplace and staring into the flames. She wished desperately that she had never left the Hale lands, and knowing that Isaac had been so near but made no attempt to see her tore her heart.
“I miss you so much, Isaac,” she whispered.
“And I you, my beautiful Summer. It aches me not to have you in my arms, to not have you by my side. To wake in an empty bed and to have no-one laugh at my stupid jokes and imitations, to have blank faces watching me when I only want you. Since you left, my life has been filled with darkness, and I was wondering…would you want to fill it with colour again?”
He breathed out„ inwardly cringing at the slightly soppy and cliched words spilling from his lips but he was trying his best. He had never been particularly talented with words, but he wasn’t planning on serenading her or professing his love through a sonnet or limerick, so he did what he did best — rambled and hoped that something good might come of it.
She whirled around, stumbling into the mantel over the fireplace and going pale. “I-Isaac?” Her voice was barely audible, and one hand pressed to her breast. “You can’t be … real … I am dreaming again.” She took a step toward him, and another, until a tremble began in her body and she couldn’t move any further.
“Please be real.”