“Magic,” I say. “How else could we keep our shops open year round?”
“Fascinating.” He sets the flowers down and sits beside me. At first we’re stiff, each hugging our own edge of the blanket, but as the autumn sun glides across the sky and the tide goes out, we relax. The space between us begins to feel like air again, not an invisible wall we dare not climb.
I take a sip of rose water and look out at the mainland. It will be my home after the Covenant Ball, and this picnic will be nothing but a memory, a moment in time that slipped by me too soon.
Landon offers me the last bit of cheese and leans back onto his elbows, staring out across the Passage.
“I was skeptical, but I have to say, that was undoubtedly the best cheese of my life,” he says.
“I wouldn’t steer you wrong.” I blot my mouth and place my cloth napkin back in the basket.
“No, Tana, I don’t believe you would.” His voice is laced with a seriousness that wraps around my insides. He looks at me then, his amber-brown eyes fixed on my own, and it is suddenly difficult to turn away.
We stay that way for several moments, and my heart speeds up as he inches his face closer to mine. I’m frozen, completely still, unsure of what to do.
Part of me wants to close the distance between us, to press my lips to his and let myself get lost in the moment. I wonder if dragonflies would erupt in my stomach, if a fire would start in my core and spread to the rest of me.
I wonder if I would want to keep kissing him over and over till death do us part.
But the rest of me is scared, because if dragonflies don’t take flight and a fire doesn’t spark, I’d rather not know until after we make our vows to one another. It wouldn’t change anything, of course, but it’s nice to believe that there’s the possibility of passion.
Landon pauses at the halfway point, but I don’t move closer to meet him. His eyes search mine, and something like understanding seems to pass over his face. He nods and pulls away, creating enough space for me to breathe again.
“Tana,” he says, his voice quiet, “will you promise me something?”
“Yes.”
“If at some point you’d like me to kiss you, will you let me know?”
I wish I knew why he wants to kiss me—if it’s because he feels a pull toward me, a spark, something more than the duty that has brought us together, or if it’s because I’m his future wife and that’s what’s expected.
“I will,” I say. “It isn’t that I don’t want you to kiss me, though. I’m just not sure I’m ready yet.”
“Understood,” he says.
He watches me for another moment, then looks out toward the mainland again. I follow his gaze, and we sit like that for several breaths, both quiet, contemplative.
“We’re going to be okay, aren’t we?” I ask, letting the sound of the waves on the shore settle the unease that has started in my stomach.
“I’ve asked myself that same question a lot,” he says.
“And what have you come up with?”
“I can’t think of a more worthwhile pursuit than that of duty. Our names will be remembered for generations to come; we are the beginning of a new day. How could we not be okay, knowing the importance of our union?”
Disappointment spreads through my gut, and I wish I could make it stop. What he’s saying is true; I’ve told myself the same thing many times. But I want more than that, more than talk of duty and honor. Those things may be what brought us together, but they aren’t the only things we have room for in this alliance. I have to believe there could be more.
I’ve been quiet for too long. Landon looks at me, and I finally respond. “It is a remarkable thing to think about. But surely duty isn’t the only thing ensuring our happiness. Surely we can hope for other things as well?”
Landon furrows his brow, and it’s the first time I’ve seen a break in his confident composure. “I’m not sure what you mean.”
“Duty is why we’re together, but we don’t have to limit ourselves to that, do we? We could find true enjoyment of one another. We could find passion, even love. Why not hope for those things?”
“Hope is too fickle a thing.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s too broad. Hope paves the way for wanting things that were never part of the plan.”
His words take my breath away because he’s right, because wanting something more than what’s before me is entirely too dangerous. And I hate that I know that.