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Gabi loved Aisha’s accent, loved everything about her.

“The hydraulic systems that produce the water from the lion’s mouths were once thought a mystery. So much so, that a poem was written about it.”

Not another poem.

“It’s still here.” Aisha pointed to the side of the fountain.

“Magnífico,” Nana said.

While Nana bent to look at the inscription on the wall, Aisha stared at Gabi and tugged her sleeves higher up her arm. The material slid back. She fiddled with the collar of her shirt and wetted her lips. Why did Aisha’s look of vulnerability feel exhilarating, and terrifying, and enticing? Gabi chuckled as Aisha tugged her sleeves up her arm again, and they slid back down.

“I’d like to rest here a while,” Nana said, rising from the plaque. She sat by the fountain and closed her eyes.

Aisha turned to Gabi. “Would you like to walk along the river for a while?”

Nana opened one eyelid. “Excelente. Give me half an hour, and I’ll be ready to go again.”

Nana tilted her head towards the sun, both eyes now closed, her chest rising and falling with slow, shallow breaths. Her age showed more when she was resting, in the downturn of her mouth and the relaxing of her jaw. Gabi, reassured that Nana was fine, headed towards the river with Aisha at her side.

The essence of vanilla wafted around Gabi, and Aisha half-smiled, the meaning of which needed no words to be appreciated by Gabi’s core. “Have you ever panned for gold?” Gabi asked.

“As a child, for fun. I don’t think anyone has found anything for years.”

Distanced from the palace, beside the gentle hush of the river, Gabi enjoyed the cooler air, the fusion of fragrances, wildflowers, pine, aniseed, and sweet honey. She walked closer to Aisha’s side, matched her easy stride with the comfort of an assured lover, and with the natural sway of their rhythm, accidentally brushed against Aisha. A jolt from the charge tingled down her arm.

Aisha blushed but made no move to create space between them.

“Did you always want to be a dancer?” Gabi asked.

“Yes.” Aisha stopped and picked a flower from the riverbank and handed it to Gabi.

The dark blue petals, perfectly symmetrical and as delicate as tissue paper, were beautiful. She brought the flower to her nose and inhaled the mild nutty aroma.

“It matches your eyes,” Aisha said. She picked another flower and turned it between her fingers. “What would you do, if you could do anything?” she asked.

Gabi stared at the river and thought about the bar, her flat that was no longer hers, and waking up with women she didn’t know in her bed. She had no plans. She’d drifted her way to this point, guided by the eddies of a life lived with only a fleeting consideration for the consequences and a deep fear of being alone. “I don’t have a career. I worked in an office for a bit and hated it. I worked evening shifts at the bar, so the days were mine—”

Aisha’s hand trembled as she held the flower, staring at it. She kept her head down. “Is there anyone special?” she whispered.

Gabi moved closer to Aisha her heart raced. “I’m not with anyone, if that’s what you mean.”

Aisha glanced up, and then swiftly fixed her gaze on the flower.

Blushing suited her, and Gabi wanted to kiss her even more. “There was someone, before,” she said.

Aisha blinked and swallowed and took several deep breaths. She looked mildly uncomfortable, but not enough to end the conversation or return to the palace.

“I misjudged the situation,” Gabi whispered. “I was naïve and got burned.”

Aisha nodded. “Do broken hearts mend?”

Aisha seemed to have gone in on herself a bit and Gabi desperately wanted to hold her.

Aisha sighed and looked towards the river. “The day makes promises, the night leaves empty and cold. The heart swells on the tide of desire and cowers in the shadows of fear. Love, ever-present, and free. Not so for the heart unclean.”

“Unrequited love,” Gabi said.

“I could never have been with her. I think that’s the worst kind of pain,” Aisha said.