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He had done it all for her, with her bright blue eyes and her cheery smile and the way she would toss her head and say, “Do I look like a Princess to you?”
It had taken nearly two decades, but the Baron was dead, his power broken. And he had done it all for her.
He pictured how it would be. She was older than he, but not very much so. She would be waiting. He would ride his charger to her farm (how she would marvel at his glossy black coat) and he would swing her up into his saddle (how she would delight in the strength of his arm) and all would be well (how she would wonder at his wealth).
The sun had died, time had flown. He saw fire ahead and hailed it with the confidence of the strong and unconquered. A single, shrouded figure half-raised an arm in greeting.
“I would join you and the comfort of your fire.”
“You may, Good Sir.”
An old woman. A crone. Rotted teeth and milky eyes, whispy strands of smoky hair. Shoulders carrying the years of her labour. He could pity such a one, who had spent her life.
“Good Mother, may I share my provisions with you and your fire?”
“I would be grateful, young sir. Though I fear my eyes are poor at night. If you would prepare the meal…?”
He feasted her with fine things, and wine aplenty. She had spent her life; there was nothing else to give her. The juices dribbled from her parchment chin, her head dragged with weariness. She slept.
“Rest easy, Good Mother.”
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The morning sun beckoned, to bring him to his love. By day’s end he would be at her side (how she would rejoice at his coming). The old woman had risen, laying gnarled sticks with gnarled fingers. He could not stay.
He mounted and stretched in the warmth of a youthful sun. He was alive, he was well. There was nothing he could not conquer. Nothing to keep him from his love this day. He looked down at the crone, at the morning sun on twilight features.
“Here, a gold coin. Use it to buy yourself something fine.” He pressed coin into fingers and was gone.
The crone waved away the dust and tossed her head. “Do I look like a Princess to you?”
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