OK, I FINALLY have an update. I really
really apologize for the delay, but with holidays I was already falling behind, and then I found out that my screenshots for this chapter before this one were in a folder that was corrupted (they were on an external hard drive that fell off my desk
). I thought about going back into the game and re-taking them, but I just don't have time. So rather than delay things any longer, I re-wrote two chapters into the following mess.
The bad news is, the chapter is extremely light on pictures (only two survived in a different folder!) and kind of haphazardly stitched together. But the good news is, it should bridge the gap to the next set of useable screenshots and get things moving along again.
Here you go...
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Jaffaran didn't say anything about the kiss when it happened. He just backed up, gave me a quizzical look, opened his mouth to make a comment or ask a question, and then stopped. He rode next to my brother all the way home, and didn't say a single word to me. At the time, I was mortified-- I was sure I had ruined everything. I spent night after night thinking about the kiss, and berating myself for being a foolish, foolish girl. But I also I kept dreaming of the way he had looked at me, and the way his arms had felt around me, and I couldn't bear the thought of any future without him in it. What had I been thinking? What had I done? And more importantly, what did I expect could ever come of it? Someone like Jaffaran, so confident and capable, would never fall in love with anyone like me. And even if he did, it's not as though we would ever be allowed to have the kind of relationship I wanted.
Then I got a message -- a note asking me to go to somewhere to meet. I wrote back quickly, before I could think about it and talk myself out of it, suggesting my family's boat. When the time came, I paced back and forth on the deck, doubting he would really come. When he did, it was with a guilty, hesitant expression that had never been there before. I smiled as widely as I could, as nervous as I was, and dashed across the deck to meet him.
But he held back. "Lady Savna," he said solemnly, "I apologize. I should have come to find you sooner. But I want to be sure that I didn't give you the wrong impression earlier. I may have been more forward with you than I should have been, and if I have in any way encouraged you, or--"
"No. Stop," I said. "You don't need to apologize." My cheeks were flushing pink at the rejection, and I wanted nothing more than to run off and hide. But this might be my only chance. I stared at a point somewhere off on the horizon and rambled: "I just-- I wanted to know-- I want
you to know that I am very fond of you, and that I--"
I finally managed to look up to gauge his reaction, and he was staring at me with a lopsided smile.
"Don't laugh at me." I protested.
"I'm not laughing." He took hold of my hands as he replied with a more serious expression and an emphatic shake of his head. "Not at all, Savna. But tell me this: I told you before that I'm not advocating for rebellion, and I meant it. If you are just looking to do something scandalous and I'm the best way you can think of to make your father take notice of you, I'd rather not be a part of it. Is that why you kissed me?"
So that's what he thought. "No!" I quickly protested. "That's not it at all. It has nothing to do with my father."
"It has everything to do with your father," Jaffaran countered. "Because if he finds out, he's going to be angry at you and angry at me. I don't know if you've noticed, but he's already not particularly happy I'm here and if he thinks I'm out to corrupt his only daughter, he's liable to throw me out on my ear, at a minimum."
"That's not it at all," I repeated, more earnestly this time. "I can't stop thinking about you. I don't know what to do about it, but I want you to know that all I can think about is where you might be, and what you might be doing, and--" My words were spilling over themselves, my cheeks were truly red by now, my hands were shaking, and I could hardly breathe. Jaffaran, I saw, was smiling with that same lopsided smile.
"I'm sorry," I said. "I should go. I never should have come." Shaking my head at my own folly, I pulled my hands from his and turned to go.
But Jaffaran softly caught hold of my arm to turn me back. "Savna," he said gently, "I just wanted to be sure. Believe it or not I'm a very prudent man, and this is not a good idea. There's too much at stake for me to lose my position here if your father finds out. That said..." He was still smiling, but I was coming to see that it was an affectionate expression, not a mocking one. I started to feel a tiny thrill of hope. But instead of following up his segue with a declaration of love, he dug in his pocket and pulled out a small journal. I'd often seen him writing in it, and often wondered what scholarly secrets were contained inside.
Now though, I was just perplexed. "You know," I said as I reached for it. "In all of the old songs, when the lady confesses her love for the hero, he usually says something romantic in return."
Jaffaran's lips twitched at the word 'love,' that lopsided smile turning even more affectionate. "Just read it," he said softly.
And I did. It was full of thoughts and poetry, all written in a neat, even hand. I paged through it, amazed. There were sonnets and free verses and ballads and couplets, all woven together, and all -- it was very clear -- about me. There were sketches of me by the pond at the ruins, playing guitar by the crafthall, and in the courtyard with my cousins. There were recollections: Jaffaran had written about meeting me in the courtyard and the way the setting sun had turned my hair to gold. He'd written about our meeting in the tavern, and the stable. He'd written about my eyes, and my lips and my cheeks and my hands. He'd written about our kiss in the ruins. And he'd written that of all the things he had come here to do, finding me had been the most important thing he had ever done.
Jaffaran had retired to the couches at the bow of the boat while I'd read, and was reclining beneath the canopy there, letting the soft sea breeze blow over him. By the time I got to the last line, I found I had followed along behind him. I tucked the book away, and climbed up to sit behind him, where I stayed, looking at his face and trying to digest it all. Eventually, he looked up, expectantly.
"I don't understand," I said quietly. "Why am I so important? Is it something to do with the tree -- or the root you found, or whatever it was?"
Now he was truly confused. "All of us are valuable for who we are, Savna. There are thousands of stars, but each one of them shines a light that no other can replace."
It was a ridiculous thing to say, typical poetic nonsense from a den'Rhelys scholar rather than the practical speech of my own family. But for some reason, my eyes were filling up with tears. "I don't understand," I said again.
Jaffaran looked mildly panicked as I started to cry. He sat up, taking hold of my hand, eyes searching mine to try to see what had upset me. At that point I saw that he was as nervous as I was; he was just hiding it better. "You're important to
me," he said earnestly. "Savna, I love you. More than anything in the world."
And as he said it, I realized it was all that I had ever wanted to hear. I put a finger over his lips to stop him saying another word, leaned down, and kissed him.
"What I didn't know," I said to Jaffaran's mother and sisters, as I continued to relate the story, "was that my had cousins noticed I was gone. My brother Torin went to try to find me at the tavern, my brother Stellan went to the ruins, and my cousins were on their way to see if I was on my favorite beach when they saw us on the boat. And that's when things started falling apart..."
