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“Okay, last picture!”
Previously, she and Gregor had been using the camera to make rather amusing pictures, in which they contorted their faces into odd expressions. After each sudden flash, which would have surprised her in any other setting, a small piece of thick paper with the image on it would come from the camera. She admitted to herself that she was fascinated by this piece of Overland technology, and that she wished she could see more Overland wonders if she survived the war.
They leaned in so that her head touched his cheek, and they still smiled. However, thoughts of the war, of the nibblers’ plight, and of her own future came flooding back. Whatever emotional escape their episode with the camera provided was gone, and the last sudden flash captured something rather bittersweet.
“I’ll take this one. You keep the one of us dancing.”
Luxa thought about it for a moment. Could she keep the one of them dancing? She almost shook her head, thinking of how rare such happy moments were, and how she shouldn’t go around trying to cling onto them. Such moments were fleeting, and she knew that she had to become accustomed to pain and loss. She wanted that one picture to remind herself of who she was, and to remind herself that there was someone else, that Overland wonder, that would share her pain.
In the end, she acquiesced. He probably insisted that she keep the dancing picture for a reason, and she would figure out that reason at some point. Maybe she would figure it out in moments, after the war ends, after the Warrior dies…
After the Warrior dies…
“I think our half hour must be nearly run out,” Luxa whispered, only to keep her mind off of what awaited Gregor.
“Yeah,” Gregor stammered. “Luxa, if I don’t get a chance to see you again like this … it’s just you should know … that I…”
Luxa knew exactly what he was trying to say. How could she not? She remembered when Gregor gave her the photograph of them dancing and said “this is why she let me go without guards.” One look at that picture and she realized that Gregor disobeyed her grandmother because she had been in danger, and that whatever odd friendship they had formed was becoming something else.
There were those words. “If I don’t get a chance to see you again.” Could he mean that they would be separated soon, or did he mean his death? The prophecy called for it, called for the Warrior to be killed, but she couldn’t stand to think that this was what Gregor meant.
Well, if Sandwich calls for the Warrior’s death, then I must admit things before his time comes.
“I know, so do I,” she whispered, still leaning on him.
Just then, she felt Gregor slightly turn his head, and she wondered if he was simply turning to her to say something. Guessing that this was so, she turned her head as well, only to find that his lips met hers. This was not at all proper courtship behavior, especially for a Queen, but she cared little, if at all. She knew that she could lose Gregor in any upcoming battle. It was better that she took the chance now. When their lips parted, she took a deep breath.
Suddenly, she did not want to lose Gregor. She wanted him to show her the Overland, with his daily routine of school, the chilling white snow he spoke about, the “pizza” places, the stars (whatever they were), the sun, various technologies, and every other Overland wonder. She wanted to see it all, to know the world Gregor came from as well as he now knew hers, and she could not tell if she and Gregor knew each other too well or not at all.
Such is life, she thought to herself, one can never know to much about this Overland wonder.