“He loves me. He loves me not,” Rose said as she plucked the daisy’s white petals and let them fall into the water. The shushing of the water bubbling over the rocky shore always felt peaceful, but today her thoughts were adrift. “He loves me. He loves me not.”
“You’re doing it all wrong,” a voice spoke behind her. Rose turned to see a beautiful stranger approaching. The woman’s silk gown swished over long legs as she gracefully crossed the sand. With black hair sparkling like obsidian, she was almost too lovely for real life and certainly too gorgeous for Cauterets.
Rose dropped the flower stem. She smoothed her long strawberry hair, but the waves remained wild. Her apron tightened as she straightened her shoulders to present her best self to the fine lady. She tucked her feet under the hem of her dress, hiding her slippers still dirty from morning chores.
“Childish of me, I suppose,” Rose said, looking at the petals floating away. Papa brushed off every request to let her marry. He still only saw the little girl gathering the chicken eggs and making fairy crowns, not the woman she felt like inside. “An apprenticeship has taken my love away for weeks, and my heart misses him so.”
“I can show you the proper way to confirm his love. However,” the stranger paused. Her eyes gleamed, reflecting the soft blue of the lake so deeply that Rose thought she could see waves. “You should only try it if you’re certain of his love.”
“I know he loves me deeply,” Rose said. She thought of his many evening visits, sometimes bringing a bouquet of daisies. Her face warmed with a pink blush remembering the kiss on her cheek before he left. Rose selected her words. “I was merely reassuring myself.”
“Wonderful! Then there’s no risk at all.” The stranger held out her hand. Shame filled Rose as her hand, rough from carrying buckets of water and slopping the pigs, touched the lady’s honey smooth palm. Rose knew better than to follow strangers, though she let this woman lead her without hesitation.
“Water flows down the mountains, across the valleys, and through every living thing. Water courses through you right now,” the woman slid her hand down Rose’s cheek with a mother’s sweetness. “If anyone knew the truth about his love, it would be the water.”
Her words sounded as true as saying daisies were white or snow was cold. Water had seen the world and certainly did know more than anyone. She had never been aware of the water in her before, but now she felt it surge through her with the power of eternal movement.
“To ask the wisdom of the water, you must be surrounded by the water.” The woman led Rose into the lake, not pausing to raise her gown. The cool water lapped their ankles and shocked Rose for a moment. Red leaves quivered on the trees, and Rose knew she could catch a fever being in this cold water.
“Though my pastor always says,” Rose spoke, looking in the woman’s eyes. The stranger’s smile dazzled so, the sun seemed to flicker. Rose searched for the words as thoughts floated around her head like flotsam in the water. “Every Sunday, he says to ‘Have faith.’”
“I do wonder, dear, if you would be pulling petals,” the enchanting woman whispered as she tucked one of Rose’s curls behind her ear. “If you had faith.”
Rose had been baptized in this water and thought the blessings must still flow on the current. She did have faith in her love. As the stranger moved forward, her pull was irresistible. She walked fearlessly as the water flooded her skirt and seeped up her corset.
“Now say your words,” the fair lady said as she let go of Rose’s hand.
“He loves me. He loves me not,” Rose said. Bubbles popped around her fingertips as she chanted. The water rippled around her, encouraging her to continue. Small waves splashed her sides, asking to mingle with the water inside her.
“He loves me.” Rose’s voice raised with the declaration of her love, but the words stumbled out of her soul when he loved her not. The water caressed her, comforted her, and pulled her into its depths. She didn’t struggle as the liquid filled her mouth.
She knew the truth.
The stranger watched Rose’s gown sink deeper until the colors faded away. Trees reflected on the perfectly still water.
“It seems he loves you… not.” She cupped some water in her hands and watched it slip through her fingers. “Thank you dear friend for always telling the truth. You have saved that sweet lass from a lifetime of sorrow, just as you rescued me so many years ago.”
The woman waded back to shore and smoothed her gown, already miraculously dry.
“Though I have watched hundreds of maidens slip into your depths,” she said, turning back to the lake. “I do wonder if I’ll ever see a girl truly loved.”
