I walked along the edge of a beautiful coast where the Netherland country met the lake. The crisp scent of fresh water, sweet blooming honeysuckle, and roses filled the air. I could see the forest of age old oaks and hickory trees that stood on the lakeside, baring the slightest hint of flowering bushels underneath.
It's a glorious night, the stars shining freely with the light of the full moon overhead. The moonlight is beautiful as it reflected off of the water, and just as beautiful as it brightened the night sky.
One could not ask for something more exquisite.
I took in the scenery of my surroundings. The soft grass. The gorgeous forests. The pitter patter of wildlife in the brush. Nothing seemed amiss, as though it never had been or never would be. As though a race of wretched animals didnt start a war here on this very grass over twenty years ago.
The memory left a bitter taste in my mouth, but I attempted to distract myself by gazing across the gorgeous turquoise waters of the lake. There was a flicker in the blackness, and I almost thought nothing of it until it appeared again.
The unmistakeable bright orange glow of a flaming torch. I watched for a moment as people flow from that direction, an array of men and women, some old some young. They traveled the ancient bridge across the water to the path before me, passing one by one.
Tourists.
As each passed, I took a moment to study each and every face simply out of boredom. Each was as plain as the last, until the face of a young man came into view.
His tanned skin looked olive underneath the gorgeous moonlight, casting shadows upon the lean muscles in his arms. A delicately shaped jaw bears a crooked grin full of mischief even as he helps the women and children along.
Curiosity got the better of me, so I went to get a closer look. I took a moment to gracefully meld with the shadows so I went unnoticed. As I made my way through the trees, I caught a glimpse of him on the other side. A branch in my way hid him from me, but with a slight nudge it bowed beneath my strength.
There he was. A gorgeous man about six feet tall, leanly built of muscle and meat. I accidentally snapped a twig, and when he turns his gaze to look in my direction, I almost melted. His eyes are a hazel blue: deep pools of honey containing flakes of lapis lazuli. They flicker with sparks as the moonlight plays within their depths, as he searches for the nearest danger. The light of the moon reflected crimson in his deep aburn hair which is draped over his shoulders.
He's beautiful.
I snapped another twig, this time on purpose, and he glanced over again. This time, I allowed him to see me.
"Is anyone there?" His voice is as sweet and smooth as molasses, but gravelly and dark, like whiskey. As if it held mystery and promise.
I stepped away from the bush.
"I'm sorry if disturbed you," I said, taking careful steps forward. He smiled and sighed his relief.
"No bother, ma'am. Just frightened me, is all."
His gaze swept over me, as if analyzing me quizzically. I realized that I'm in armour instead of casual wear.
"Sorry. I dont really stick to modern normalcies. I'm patrolling my land."
The man stepped forward and offered me a hand, smiling.
"No worries. It's a bit abnormal, and most definitely outdated, but it's beautiful on you. My name is Michael."
I laughed, something I havent really done in a while, and the sounds seemed almost foreign to me. When was the last time I laughed?
Michael cleared his throat and lowered those magnificent orbs at me. "Are you alright?"
"Oh, yes." I shook off the cloud swarming my head. "I'm Alanna. Alanna Niguel."
He gave me a heartwarming smile, then shook my hand before pulling a twig from my hair and brushing a leaf from my armour.
"How embarrassing," I giggled. "What an impression I must make."
He did nothing but smile and shake his head. "It was nice meeting you, Alanna, but I have to go."
I nodded and he walked further down the path, tending to women and children. One day, he might even be the knight to some damsel in distress. Who would that damsel be, I wonder.
I continued down the worn dirt road, a silly smile on my face. Everything seemed brighter now for some reason or another. The cool air felt good on my skin, the honeysuckle smelled sweeter, the air crisper.
But one thing bothers me.
I've seen those eyes once before.
I shook the thought from my mind and finished my patrol, returning safely home before dawn. My daughters greeted me with smiles and laughter, telling me things about their day. Madeline helped the chef cook dinner today. Dahlia read the children stories. Melinda is getting married.
The fuss around the dinner table had me smiling and giggling like the rest of the girls. I stareed blankly at the wall, thinking of the patrol.
"Mother is daydreaming," I heard Dahlia say. I watched as Melinda leaned over to gaze at my face.
"She is!"
I shook my head and held my hands up in protest.
"Now, now girls, I was NOT daydreaming. I was thinking about patrol."
Madeline stared at me a moment before erupting into a fit of giggles.
"Mother, you have never looked like that while thinking about other patrols. You MUST have met someone. Who was it?"
I shook my head, smiling. "I didnt meet anyone. I simply ran into a group of tourists, that's all. Now, finish your dinner and head to bed. We have a long night ahead of us tomorrow."
The girls grumbled as they finished their meals and I finished my glass of laced wine. I stared out the window at the breaking light of dawn. It's beautiful from afar, but lethal up close.
As are most things.