His dark, eager face was near hers now
"Is it, then, true—"
"You find it so hard to believe?"
"That you love me? That I seem no longer your enemy?"
"My enemy? You? Who risked so much—saved my life! Ah, no, no! Do you not remember," softly, "he, too, said—'Forget!'"
"I only remember I have long loved you! For me have you ever been the princess—who dwelt in the clouds—in a palace, enchanted—" Her face changed. "That saddens you! Forgive me!"
"It seems like a dream—that life, then! All made up of lightness and gaiety; courtiers and fine masques, until—" Beneath the bright gold of her hair, my lady's brow knit.
"Until?"
"Nay; I know not until—just when! Only, for long, I seem to have lived in a world, unreal and false. Last night, when in the garden, I felt stifled. This marriage! Arranged—for what?" She made a quick gesture. "The words came—had to come—though they hurt my lord's pride; touched his vanity! Nothing deeper! It was gone. Besides—"
My lady stopped. "Go on!" he urged, his voice eager.