There was a man who resembled the sunset. Not in a way that encapsulated the red, angry glow of the sun, but in a way of his aura, which was so tranquil, warm and light that it seemed it would disappear any moment.
Kit met his eyes, three years ago, and it imprinted in her an unforgettable memory. It only seemed like yesterday. His name, Edwin. Even his name sounded like the dying rays of the sun as it set. The name left a mournful feeling because Edwin no longer existed.
Kit couldn’t understand if his name lingered in her mind because she loved him so much that she was unable to forget it, or because his early death had seemed so unfair to both of them.
*
Kit sat where he did, three years ago, when she first saw him. Edwin Arthur Windsor. The name came unbidden into her memory. Her eyes prickled with tears. She wiped at them. Even with eyes closed, his figure was clearly painted in the darkness.
Library. Window. Sunset.
These were the things associated with Edwin; these were what defined him in her memory. Three words. She had first seen him sitting by the library window. Her heart had seemed to stop at the sight of him. She had forgotten, momentarily, why she had come to the library. The blazing sun was setting behind him, tinting everything red. He had turned to look at Kit, aware of her presence. Perhaps it was because she was staring at him, or maybe by some other reason, but he had seen her, even if fleetingly.
Edwin had looked at her with unfocused eyes for a while, then looked away elsewhere. Maybe he hadn’t really meant to look at her. But Kit still felt his gaze on her. Her heart raced. Why is my heart beating so frantically?
Perhaps this was what they meant when people talked about love at first sight. It was a feeling that refused any description even after three years. After that moment, Kit had watched him from afar for about a year. She couldn’t bear to not see him.
Edwin, however, was indifferent. Kit was so flustered that she found herself unable to look into his eyes, much less approach him. Edwin had made it clear that he had no interest in her. But he was someone who drew attention to himself wherever he went, even without doing anything of consequence. His silvery soft hair and pale skin and deep eyes seemed to have a story of their own. It drew people to him. He seemed to be not really an ordinary person at all, sometimes. He had this ethereal beauty that set him apart. He seemed to have walked straight out of a fairy tale, a being who guarded the library, maybe.
His presence was daunting. Kit seemed to fall short on courage whenever she decided to talk to him. So, she kept her distance and admired him from afar. Edwin was unaware of it all. He seemed to be indifferent to people’s stares or their attention.
Kit watched him day by day. He always seemed cold and distant. She sometimes saw him frown but that was it. No other expression marred his face, ever so stoic. She longed to speak to him, she had never heard his voice.
After a year, Edwin stopped coming to the library. The seat by the window was idle. The sunset no longer painted him in red. Kit was worried. Did something happen to him? she wondered.
When Edwin’s absence continued for three more days, Kit became nervous. Kit tried to find out about him. She asked around; she realized she knew nothing about him. At that time, she didn’t even know his name. She was just a naïve girl looking at this person with eyes full of infatuation.
Kit felt helpless. She felt angry at herself for not trying to initiate a conversation. However, Edwin’s information didn’t seem very hard to get. The librarian knew him. He gave her his address despite Kit only describing him through his silvery hair.
“He’s dead,” said the librarian.
The librarian said it so nonchalantly that Kit couldn’t understand it. It took her a few minutes to process what the librarian said. Dead, she lamented, I will never see him again. The realization hit her, and tears flowed down her cheeks. She was sobbing for a man she barely knew. I should have at least tried to talk to you. Her regret never went away. Even after three years, it pierced her heart.
Edwin Arthur Windsor.
Kit had seen his full name for the first time at his funeral. He was the son of the previous king. He was a prince, a prince right out of a fairytale. No wonder, he looked so ethereal and beautiful. She couldn’t get his dead face out of her mind. Her mind kept conjuring pictures of his silvery hair turning red, not because of the sunset but because of blood.
Edwin had died because his carriage had rolled over and crushed him inside while he was travelling back to the palace. He had died on the spot and died too young. He was just eighteen years of age. His funeral was a humble affair. It wasn’t done at the palace or the capital, it was carried out in the cathedral in the village. A funeral too quiet for a prince.
On the last day of his memorial, Kit had arrived at the cathedral. The size of the cathedral dwarfed everything in sight. There were very few people who came to pay tribute. Kit was unsure whether this was because it was the last day of the memorial or if it was because Edwin had very few acquaintances. Anyhow, Kit was relieved for the dwindling number of people. She had covered her face with a black veil not wanting anyone to know she was there. She wanted one last glimpse of Edwin.
Kit made her way to the front where Edwin lay in his fine wooden coffin. He looked too young with a white chrysanthemum that someone might have placed inside. His lips had a rosy hue. He looked like he was peacefully asleep. It seemed as though he would get up anytime and head to the library. But he didn’t. Edwin lay down in that coffin quietly.
Kit couldn’t stop the tears flowing down her cheeks. She felt broken. Did he know I watched him for a year? Did he ever have an inkling of the idea that I had always looked forward to seeing him?
“Edwin,” she whispered. His name flowed smoothly from her lips, as though she had always known it. “I hope you are having a pleasant dream,” she said softly. She placed a chrysanthemum in his hand. She reached out her hand and stroked his cheek softly. My first love dies in vain, she thought. It was October 10th in the year 263.
༺༻
“…Kit?” somebody called.
Kit was brought back to the present by someone calling her. She slowly squinted and pushed her memories of Edwin aside. It was Ronnie, with the golden eyes.
“I am sorry, Ronnie,” she said apologetically, “I was lost in thought.”
“It’s alright,” he said, “I was just worried because you looked very solemn.”
Kit directed a reassuring smile at him. Ronnie looked relieved and went out, making his way towards his tailoring shop. Kit watched him disappear out of the door. Kit’s smile disappeared too. She lay down on the bed, feeling nauseous. She tried to calm herself, but in vain. Thinking about Ronnie made her nauseous.
“Ronnie.” Curling up tightly in a ball, Kit murmured his name.
Ronnie Blanc. He had married Kit two years ago, not long after Edwin died. He was a very successful tailor. He was also the only man who had proposed to Kit for marriage.
Kit was the youngest child of Marquis Gerald. Kit had always grown up as the black sheep of the family. Her father ignored and neglected her from a very young age. He had always displayed a cold indifference when it came to her. He had never shown her any affection or warmth towards her, not even a proper glance. He thought he had lost his wife because of Kit. Kit had lost a mother too. Her mother had died at childbirth.
When life and death coincided, Kit tumbled into the world. Her father hated her. Kit had wished to look like her mother, but that wish had been in vain. Kit’s mother had been very beautiful, she had set her social circle buzzing because of her beauty. Kit was plain in appearance, nothing like her mother.
Kit’s only other sibling, her sister, hated her too. Maybe even more than her father. She blamed Kit for snatching away a mother from her. She hated her even more because she thought Kit had no talent or skill, whatsoever. Her sister was beautiful, like her mother. She was talented in everything she did. When she was compared to Kit, the jarring difference showed:
“Why can’t you do anything but that? Look at your sister. You should be able to match up your sister’s talents.”
“You are a disgrace to our family. How can you be so useless?”
Kit had heard these words a thousand times. She had tried hard at everything she did but always fell short somewhere. She was unable to win her family’s approval no matter how hard an ordeal she subjected herself to. The more she realized this, the more timid she became. She stopped trying after that. She tried to appear invisible, blend into the background whenever she was with her family. That was all she could do.
Kit hated herself, but she accepted herself the way she was and stopped trying to become something she was not. No matter what she tried, her family would never love her anyway. Her self-esteem was so low that she could not gather the courage to even talk to Edwin. Even when she saw him for the first time and watched him for a year, she made herself invisible, until it was too late.