The Demon
“No. I think I’ll take a walk into the garden, get some air. Be careful, Tom, all right?”
“I promise.”
The garden was dark and quiet. The smell of freshly cut grass was everywhere.
I often remembered that smell afterward: wild, savage, furious... I leaned against a tree and sighed. Below the hard bark, tree sap was flowing, barely audible.
I thought that being such a tree could be nice. They couldn’t think.
“Your Highness...”
I raised my eyebrows. Lavinia stepped out of the shade, like an apparition. In her white dress, she was ethereal, mesmerizing, entrancingly innocent, only once scarlet rose in the buttonhole.
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