Heart's Desire

He was mesmerized by that sensual curve, and did not even notice when she did not answer his question. "Dance with me?" she said. I was half command, half coy question, and there was nothing the Emperor could do, but follow as she led him to the floor. The space cleared immediately for them, and soon the Emperor and the fae creature were whirling through dances as if the steps had been choreographed and practiced for hours on end... or a lifetime. Never a falter, never a misstep. Perfect synchronicity.

        Too soon the midnight chimes shook the castle walls.

        The maiden stepped away from the Emperor as the last dolorous bell faded. "I must be leaving now," she said to he Emperor. Was that regret he heard in her voice?

        "No, please. Don't leave. You may stay in the palace. I can have room prepared-"

She smiled again, that mysterious smile. Full of cunning, and knowledge, and dreams beyond his wilder reckoning. "You know I cannot."

        He knew no such thing. "Tell me why-"

        "Goodbye," she whispered, and turned simply. And left.

        The emperor was in a daze throughout the rest of the night. He hardly saw the celebrants any longer. Nor did he notice when they began to leave, or when his stewards began to direct the servants in the cleaning. He did not remember climbing the steps to his chambers, nor laying down his head. But he did remember her eyes, her lithe body, the smell of her breath that was like wildflowers, and her hair that was like autumn leaves. He remembered and dreamed fitful dreams that night.

        The following morning her strolled his gardens. The maiden's image still spun in his mind. Despair had gripped him by now. He walked down the paths; he had walked a million times before. The curve of the branches was carefully orchestrated so that each tree, each bush, each flower was a grand piece of art. As he walked, the vines became more tangled, more unkempt, until finally he stopped, reveries broken. This was not his garden. This was too wild.

        He spun around in surprise. Here was stillness here. No gardeners lurked behind hedges; it was too preternaturally quiet. The wind held her breath, and it was as if time had stopped. The back of his neck prickled, and an inkling of fear rubbed in his throat. He tried to raise his voice to shout for a servant, a guard, anyone, but just as he was to shatter the silence, a lilting voice began to chime from the air around him. He froze. It was an odd sound, like a chant, or a child's singsong rhyme. It went:

        I am fog and I am mist and I am all that can't be tamed.

        I am born of devil's kiss for I am fickle and insane.

        Love me. Can you guess my name?

        "Who's there?" he asked. His voice quavered. He spun around once more, but there was no other sound. The unnatural stillness prevailed. "Where are you? Come out from hiding!" In response, the air shivered and the voice rang out again:

        Only fools will chase the wind and seek to win at godly games.

        Rules are wrought of human minds and games are my art, my realm, my reign.

        Fear me. Liri is my name.

        On that last phrase he bushes in front of him rustled, and from the branches stepped a red fox. A grin stretched across her muzzle. "Liri, Liri is my name," she said again, and began to lick her paws.

        Fear turned to disgust in the Emperor. "Get out, goddess of thieves and misfits. I have no desire to have you in my city. Away!"

        The fox coughed and it took the Emperor a moment to realize she was laughing.