In Love Forevermore(on hold)

15. HER WORDS

.What is of beauty to one may be nothing to another. For the beauty is not in the thing itself, but rather in how it is looked at.

"I am not too late, am I?," she asked, stepping into the guest room. "If you had delayed any longer I would have left, with or without your goodbye," said he smiling. He embraced her in his warmth. One she was sure to miss in the coming days. "I will miss you terribly, brother," Elizabeth said, drawing back. "You'll forget me the moment I step out of this castle," he said, but his voice held no trace of teasing.

"Do you think so little of my love for you?," she asked. "Absolutely not. But, I'm afraid time will do so to you," he said, not meeting her eyes. But she could see his fear. Edward loved Penelope. He'd tease her. He'd vex her till she'd complain. But, his love for her had never been to the extent he had for Elizabeth. "Tell me, oh sister, in the past few days did you see me everyday, even though I am under the same roof as you?," he asked.

She felt ashamed, when he hadn't been there, all she had hoped for was his presence. And when his presence was in abundance, she had busied herself with the tasks of the world. "Forgive me, brother. I would do nothing but be by your side, if I could. But, I cannot do so and I do not know why. Although, must you really spend our last moments carrying anger?," she asked. He sighed. "Can you not come home?," he asked, his eyes pleading. "I am home. A new one, but still home," she said, "why do you miss me?."

         "Why on earth would I miss you? Penelope is excellent company. She's absolutely brilliant. She is-," he trailed, looking for words. "Boring," Elizabeth offered. "No, she isn't," he protested. "How many times have the both of you gone riding I the woods? Or had a duel? Or perhaps driven mother mad, since I left?," she asked. He closed his eyes and finally gave up. "Alright! She is the definition of what one would call boredom. But, she will be leaving soon too. What am I to do then? Alone with mother? That woman would kill me with etiquettes," he said.  

     "So you do miss me?," she said again. "My pride is hurting but yes I do," he said. "My, my, I've always known you loved me. Oh dear, how dull you must be without me," she said with a wide smile. "Oh dear, must you really do this?," he asked. "Alright, I will leave you in peace. But, I do have a matter in hand for which I need help," she said. 

         He looked so different sometimes to her. He had the same dark hair and dark eyes, but they stood out in ways that only the both of them understood. "What is it?," he asked. She sat down on the edge of the bed and told him about the crown, the ascension, the task, the aunt. And when she finished, he looked amused. "Why, isn't this just dramatic?," he said. "Well, you could say so. But, what must I do?," she asked, urging the question. "I don't know. Perhaps, you'll discover your path," he said. "Oh, don't be so dramatic, dear brother. I am without an idea," she said.

"Perhaps, the old way, talking?," he asked. "I think we did that, hardly made sense," she complained. "No, you listened last time, I am asking you to talk now," he said. "Yes, and I am to say what?," she asked, she felt herself questioning every action of her own. "Anything that will help you understand the colours," her brother said. "The colours?," she questioned. "My dear Lizzy, we stand with no story and we paint the person. Never really knowing the colours we paint them with. You cannot help somebody unless you understand them completely. And you cannot do so without knowing. So, my dear, understand the colours and then work your strokes. For the masterpiece will be worth your time," he said, "And now I must take my leave or it will be too late."  

       "I have yet to understand your words but thank you for them. Remember me and write to me. I will never forget, not one day. I love you, dear brother," she said, embracing him for one last time before he took his leave.