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It isn’t quite dawn when Rishe awakens – still dark enough that not even a glimmer of light peaks through the curtains – so early that not even Arnold in all his discipline has stirred. And yet she knows the new day has begun. She can feel it deep in her soul – after all, it’s the day she’s longed after for six lives now.
Still, she doesn’t rise.
She isn’t one to linger in bed and today of all days should be no exception. She should be ready for today - she is ready for today.
And yet.
Instead of rising, she turns in the bed so that she faces a sleeping Arnold, a smile tugging at her lips as she reaches over and gently brushes his bangs with the tips of her fingers. She half expects him to stir, but instead his body relaxes ever so slightly, sinking even deeper into sleep.
It truly isn’t fair, she thinks, how he can still be so effortlessly beautiful while doing something as simple as sleeping. Honestly, he should knock it off at some point if for no other reason than to give her a break. How she manages to carry on with anything when she constantly has to look at the most beautiful man in the world (as far as she is concerned) is beyond her.
His lips curl ever so slightly. “Rishe…”
For a moment, she assumes she’s woken him, but he doesn’t stir any further. He must be dreaming, she realizes and feels her cheeks warm. It truly isn’t fair, she thinks, that he has this effect on her.
Still, they’ve come so far from the nights they laid awake, watching over each other in sickness and in injury, the nights they spent together for protection. Far from all the nights she feared were leading them to war.
She shakes her head, banishing thoughts of the war from her mind. Not today, she decides. Today she will be selfish.
Rishe leans over and gently kisses Arnold’s forehead before carefully and quietly slipping out of the bed and out the balcony doors.
The air is clean and slightly damp as the sun peeks out from the horizon. It must have rained a little overnight, she realizes – the few scattered clouds hovering in the sky are highlighted by the dew lingering on the trees and grass in their courtyard. Dewy mornings have been her favorite ever since her second life as an apothecary – there is something so refreshing about waking up to a morning that feels like it has been cleansed by the rain.
The Goddess must be sending her a blessing.
A presence appears behind her and Rishe smiles but doesn’t look away from the sunrise. As quiet as she was, it doesn’t surprise her that he already found his way back to her. He’s never very far away, always by her side, ready to support whatever she’s set her mind to this time.
“Did I wake you?” she asks.
Arnold’s arms wrap around her waist and instinctively her hands cover his, holding him closer to her. It isn’t a particularly chilly morning considering the season, but suddenly she cannot imagine how she managed it without his warmth.
“No,” he says, resting his head atop hers.
He’s lying of course – he didn’t retire until late last night – but she doesn’t say anything, knowing all too well it won’t make a difference. If anything, he would be more insistent about staying awake. Even if she were to return to their bed now, he would simply take advantage of the early day. So instead she makes a mental note to remind him to rest later in the day. Perhaps she’ll lull him to sleep again.
“You’re plotting something again,” he says playfully. “What? Are you planning on jumping off the balcony again?”
Her face flushes. “Must you always bring that up?” she asks and tries to shake the color off her cheeks. “I was thinking about the sunrise. I wanted to wake up early today to see it.”
He doesn’t respond at first, but she doesn’t need to see him to know the look of annoyance on his face. Whether it’s directed at her for not telling him earlier or himself for not predicting her, she isn’t quite sure. “We could have taken a trip if you wanted to see the sunrise.”
Rishe turns so that she’s facing him and shakes her head. “I wanted to watch the sunrise in Galkein. What better place to celebrate than in our home?”
Arnold studies her for a moment, his eyes softening for her. He leans down and her eyes flutter close in anticipation of the kiss.
Instead his lips graze against her ear, the warmth of his breath sending shivers down her spine. “Happy birthday,” he says and once again she does not need to see his face to know he’s smirking, proud of himself for still having this effect on her, even now, even after all of these years. He kisses her temple. “Twenty-one. Does it feel any different?”
How could it not?
Seven lifetimes, seven different paths she took, each one beautiful and unique in its own way. The places she’s seen, the experiences she’s had, are endless. There’s very little she hasn’t done.
But never once has she turned twenty-one.
Celebrating a birthday was always terrifying in a way. A celebration of another year lived always meant she was one year closer to death. But this? This was terrifying in an entirely different way – this new experience she isn’t quite sure how to handle.
Yes, every life has been different, each swayed by her choices and knowledge of the future, but to an extent she always knew the beats. She knew when illness would break out, when economies would shift, when secrets would be revealed. She knew exactly what events to avoid. She knew what she was capable of changing.
Going forward, however, will be an entirely different story.
It’s terrifying in a way she hasn’t felt since her very first life when she was first cast aside.
“Rishe,” he says and her heart skips another beat. All these years and the way he says her name, so soft and warm, still makes her want to cry sometimes.
Gently, he spins them around so his back is against the railing, strategically angling them in such a way that she doesn’t miss the sunrise.
He truly is so considerate, she thinks, her hand cupping his cheek, gently cradling his face.
Arnold kisses the inside of her wrist, his lips lingering against her skin. “Tell me what you want of me,” he asks with an almost gentle desperation, as if his life depended on his ability to grant her wish.
As if her desires were the only thing in the world that mattered.
“Close your eyes,” she tells him, her fingertips brushing over his eyelids so he has no choice but to obey her. Not that he wouldn’t listen.
In all of her lives, Rishe had been blessed with allies who helped her, each one shaping her life for the better. It had been eons since she felt anything akin to loneliness, always happy she was able to reestablish herself, to move on and find a new life, satisfied with the fleeting connections to her previous lives.
Then, somehow, at some point, that changed.
She still isn’t sure when it happened, but it didn’t take long for her to realize that she wanted her life to be with Arnold, that she could no longer be satisfied with anything else, muchless a fleeting connection. That if she had to, she would come back to him time and time again – life after life she would find him, no matter how many loops it took she swore to herself that she would spend the rest of her lives with him.
But more than that, what she truly wanted was to spend this life with him.
“What I want,” she says, lifting his left hand to her lips, gently kissing the third finger. “More than anything else is something you’ve already given me. You.”
Rishe had never wanted the war that ended her life to happen, that much should have been obvious. She truly enjoyed each of her lives as if they were the last and tried to live with no regrets. But deep down she always prepared herself to die and begin anew, because at some point she stopped being able to imagine a life beyond twenty. She stopped expecting it. And maybe, if she’s being honest, a small part of her stopped desiring it, not allowing herself the hope that came with a future.
Being with Arnold changed that.
She would come back to him no matter what, she knew. She would find a way to be by his side no matter how many lives she lived. She meant it that evening on this very balcony when she told him that it did not matter if he tossed her aside because she would find her way back to Galkein.
She would find her way back to him no matter what it took.
But
There is something special about this life they are building together. About slowly unraveling each layer, learning more and more about him as he opens up to her. It’s something she cherishes and also something she can’t imagine reliving. Because reliving it would mean losing it.
She can’t lose it.
She won’t lose it.
Turning twenty-one is terrifying in a new and strange way, but it isn’t one she would trade for any knowledge of the future. Because she can handle any unknown that comes her way if she has Arnold by her side.
He watches her with warm eyes, his fingers intertwining with hers. There is no way for him to truly know the complexity of her thoughts, of her feelings, in that moment. And yet, at the same time, there isn’t a doubt in her mind that he understands. Because he will always be by her side.
“Kiss me, my husband.”
It won’t be long until the anniversary of their wedding. Then it will be his birthday and Rishe will witness Arnold turning twenty-five for the first time. The seconds will tick away, the days will come and go – time will pass in a way that’s new and exciting no matter how mediocre. Because although it feels like an entire lifetime since she lived without Arnold, it pales in comparison to the actual lifetime they have before them.
He kisses her, holding her tight, as the first sun of many yet to come rises behind them.