A 100-word chapter of a 1,000 word story.
He wondered at the quality of her gaze.
“What do you see, when you look at me?” the minstrel asked, strumming a counterpoint to his words.
She smiled. “You.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Me? Most look at me and seem to see…”
“Naught but the greatest musician in all the lands?” she suggested, lips twitching.
“No, naught more.” His cheeky tone snagged on the hurt in his eyes.
“You are far more,” she whispered.
“Of course – I’m just glad somebody else finally sees it!” His cheeky tone caught on the softness of his smile.
To be continued.