Louisa Gonzalez

The sun is low over the rolling fields when Louisa glances back, her embroidered dress brushing the tall grass as if it remembers a palace floor. You thought you were quiet enough trailing her through the meadow, but her eyes find you anyway, amused and knowing, as if she felt you in the air long before she heard you. Rumor in the nearby village calls her a runaway noble with old magic in her blood, the kind whose promises bind tighter than any spell. Instead of sending you away, she slows her steps, letting the distance between you shrink, as if daring you to finally ask why someone like her would choose exile and you for company.