Her Moon: A Retelling of William Shakespeare's The Winter's Tale
Page 4
I dismount and search. People flock thicker than sheep in a pen, carrying baggage, hauling sacks on their shoulders, hugging goodbye. I scan every face, hoping each one that turns will instantly transform into Cove’s. This is beyond ludicrous. But I don’t care.
Christabel’s question resounds. Do you love him?
Love—it’s a maze I’m ready to navigate my way through. He had every chance to take advantage of me in that darkened mill. He could have hurt me or worse, but he didn’t. Cove has been nothing short of incredible. He’s jeopardizing his father’s respect—his own inheritance!—for me. And I want nothing more right now than to be where he is. Wherever he is.
The instant I wake every morning he emerges, rising from the sections of my brain where he’d been haunting my sleep. He never leaves my thoughts. I can’t imagine anything better than being with him during the waking, not just the dreaming.
My pulse thrashes, people board the vessel, and still there is no sign of him. Has he been detained? Maybe his father heard of our plans somehow and has chained him to their estate. Christabel—maybe she’s right, maybe I should reveal the truth of my birth.
Just as my hope begins to falter, the crowd breaks, and I see him.
Shining like a bonfire in the fading sun, he stares out across the flecks of light on the water’s surface. One hand on the rope, the other hefting a pack over his back. He’s dressed down in common trousers and a tunic, and a hat over his unruly hair. He blends so perfectly no one would suspect his true status.
I’m ready to leap toward him, but I force my stride to a regular pace.
“It’s blue,” I say to his back, elated just to be near him.
Cove turns, and his eyes alight. He looks windswept and rugged, the way he looked the night I met him. It’s pure agony to only stare, to not reach out and touch.
“What is?” His gaze scans over me and takes in the pack in my grasp.
“My answer,” I say. “I’d choose the color blue.”
“Blue,” he repeats, a smile spreading on his beautiful mouth. “Your favorite color? You know how I feel about that.”
I shake my head. He stares off into the horizon, and I take in the scruff along his jawline, the confident lilt of his posture, the sunlight kissing his temples.
He gestures to the rippling waves crashing toward our vessel. “The ocean is very beautiful. And the sky. It would be difficult to live in a world without their hue.”
The sun sinks lower as the final boarding call sounds, long and low.
“No,” I say. “Not the ocean or the sky. Your eyes. If I had to live in a world completely devoid of color, I’d want to see the gleam in your eyes more than anything else.”
Those eyes alight with a mixture of surprise and delight. He crushes me to him.
“You’ll come with me?” he asks into my hair, holding me tightly. “Be my wife?”
“Yes,” I say, the word expanding in my chest. “Yes.”
We embrace for a moment longer. Then together, we turn and join the throng of people flocking to its gangplank. I’ll tell him of my parents. When the time is right, I’m sure we won’t hold anything back from each other.
But for now, it’s time to board a ship.
Thanks For Reading!
Thank you so much for reading my brief romance based on an author I love so much! I hope you'll consider leaving a review. Reviews on retail sites really help indie authors like me, and they also draw readers to other books they might like. I appreciate all honest reviews, so please be sure to let others know your thoughts about the story!
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-Cortney
Acknowledgments
A writer is nothing without critique partners, and I feel like I have some of the best there are! Thanks to Anne Pfeffer, Danette Hansen, Rachel Gordon, and Anna Tietjen for reading! Also thanks to Jen Hendricks for doing me a solid and for amazing feedback.
Thanks to the ladies at Young Adult Authors Unite! for the push to write this. I had no idea how much I would love it.
Thanks to William Shakespeare. I've been a lover of words for a long time, and I especially appreciate his intellect and genius at crafting a story. It was truly a pleasure to work with something based off of his play.
Thanks to my mother, husband and sons, as always, for constant support and pretending to be interested while I prattle on about books. And especially to our Heavenly Father, for giving me talents, opportunities, and answers to prayers.
About the Author
Cortney Pearson is a mother, a musician, and a lover of pink and sparkles. Cortney writes books about doors that shouldn't be opened and enchanted tears that shouldn't be shed. She lives with her husband and three sons in a small, Idaho farm town. Cortney believes anything can be made better with a good attitude, and in tucking a book away with her wherever she goes for those just-in-case times.
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Also by Cortney Pearson:
One vial of tears holds magic they've never known.
And only one girl can wield them.
"Amazing world building! Everything was totally original, nothing like I've ever read before!" -Kariny V., a reviewer
Sometimes a house...isn't just a house.
"I read this book fast, with a pumping heart. Expect cliff hangers and cold chills. Don’t expect to get much sleep! Highly recommended." -Anne, a reviewer
If you enjoyed Her Moon...
The original story was published in Never Be Younger: a YA Anthology, (under the title To Undreamed Shores). It includes retellings of Romeo and Juliet (in space!), Othello, The Merchant of Venice, A Comedy of Errors, Macbeth, as well as A Midsummer Night's Dream.
All proceeds from the sales of Never Be Younger go to United Through Reading, a charity dedicated to uniting military families through reading.
"The authors of “Never Be Younger” strike me as a clever, imaginative bunch, with much to offer Shakespeare lovers and young adult/new adult readers alike." -an Amazon reviewer
Copyright © 2015 Cortney Pearson.
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system or transmitted, in any form or by any means--electronic, mechanical, printing, recording, or otherwise--without the prior permission of the author, except for use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, incidents, or events are either products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Cover Design by Najla Qamber Designs
Edited by Jen Hendricks
Author Photo by Clayton Photo + Design
Feel free to find Cortney on her website! www.cortneypearson.com