The clouds were holy stairs enriching our lord's paradise. These days, I constantly see them reaching down to Earth. I wondered who climbed up and who got down or if the one who climbed up could ever get down.

Doctor Lanc set me in a small cab, viewing the whole valley, which looked crimson red when the dawn came up. He was a short man with a disproportionately long beard. He referred to his patients in similar cabs on this hill as his folks. It was an everyday life. They woke up at the same time, breakfasted together, wandered together, and had lunch and dinner. I was peaceful, yet the calmness of this life made me think about Jaromir even more. I had nothing else to crowd my mind. 

Day by day, I felt more potent, and as I felt stronger, I felt regretful for the things I oathed to say. It felt different to confess the lies that people had so long been telling about me. This place gave me the isolation I had longed for. Nobody knew who I was. Nobody had heard about me or my past. These people had other problems to care about. 

Even the rain was chilling and only freshened up the night a bit. Between the tolls and horse rears and hooves knocking the mud, a thin woman in a white dress walked out of the coach. Her dress stuck and creased on her pale skin. Doctor Lanc received her as she approached the oldest cabinet. Then, the rain fastened up, and all I could see from the window was the blurred cyclical moonlight. 

The blueish light patted the sheets of the bed, and the shadow of the blanket waved on like the ocean surface. The waves converged, and as I held my hand on them, they climbed up my arms. His fingers climbed up my arm to my shoulder like a petal touching my skin. I looked into the light beaming out from his eyes. He looked into the world as if it was waiting for him to fix it. I believed in him. It was impossible not to. He was eager to forgive all the pain spread onto the sky. He was going to build a paradise on Earth where people are happy. He would clean the land of tyrants, bullies, and people doing injustice. He wanted me by his side, the side of beauty and goodness and love. As my hands warmed up his ice-cold chest, he told me that the heart of evil is vengeance. He told me that I inspired him to forgive. He made me believe in this image of a world full of grace. I dreamed about that life made from our love. That dream became us. I knew if he made it come true, we would be forever. 

During breakfast, a woman with tired cheeks and huge deer eyes sat next to me. I could only see that she was the woman who came out of the carriage the day before. "Morning," she said before I did. She was wearing a white dress. I couldn't tell if it was the same dress she had worn when she first came. She was pecking at the cheese like a sparrow. I wondered what she had. "I am Astrid," I offered a hand. She looked at me, excited but exhausted. She grabbed my hand firmer than I thought. "Rosalie," her name was. "What made you come all the way up this hill?" I asked. Her eyes flickered decisively. "I am searching for my baby," she whispered, still holding my hand. "Your baby?" She nodded. She was then moved slightly closer to me. "They took my son, kidnapped him. I told Sigidmus to send his men to find him. He said our son is dead. Bullshit. I saw the shadows holding him in the dim light. I saw he was raised to the sky by the flames and sickles. I pleaded with him, yet he believed those the devil touched. May our lord burn the soul of evil and perish the seed of darkness within all." She lurched back. Her lips curled downwards. She shook as if she was going to sneeze. "Sigidmus loves our son. He searches for him. I know it. He knows he is still alive, but we made a deal; we play it out this way to protect our son." She giggled.

"From what?" I asked. "From the shadows and the flames and the sickles!" she shouted, then shrank to her belly, ashamed of what she did. I was confused and abstaining. "Keep calm. Your son will be found if he is out there. Your husband will do anything to find him, right?" She frowned her brows. "Sigidmus is not my husband!" She said soberly. "Who is Sigidmus?" I asked. She suddenly slapped my cheek. I was frozen, regretful to even start a conversation with her. "Disrespectful! How could you call your king like that? He is King Sigidmus for you." I was stoned. "I beg your pardon. You are talking about Sigidmus, the King of Hungaria?" She tightened her fists, and I stood back. She inhaled. "Yes, King Sigidmus. My love," she said finally proudly. I knew that King Sigidmus was married. He was a decent man respectful to his wife. It was only then I realised what was the problem with Rosalie. She was insane. "I apologise, Rosalie. I hope you find your son." I stood up and tried to move far from her. She grabbed my arm. "Astrid, do you like to look into the sky when the sun serenaded her love to the clouds?" I looked at her, startled but softened by her words. "Yes, Rosalie. I do." She took my arm and nearly walked with me ricochet. We sat on the grass and waited for the sun to rise. Her arm was still linked to mine. She started to tangle her fingers around my curls. "Your hair is so soft," she said. "I used to have soft hair like you. I used to be beautiful, like you." She exhaled and loosened her arm. "When you are loved, you feel so beautiful even if you are not. This is why nature is so beautiful," she pointed at the glimpse of the sun beneath a thick orange cloud. "They are all in love." 

"But you are beautiful, Rosalie." She smiled intimately. Shyness settled on her weak cheeks, but she carried it well. She beat off with her hand. "You must have seen my son. He is an angel. When I first held him in my arms," she opened her arms as if holding a baby. "he looked into my eyes, and he whispered to my heart that everything is going to be alright." She closed her eyes and embraced herself. "He is a piece of mine. I felt like two people. I was worried. What if Sigidmus would leave me alone with him? The moment I saw him, every concern flew up to the sky like blue butterflies. Have you ever seen blue butterflies, Astrid? There are many blue butterflies in Hungaria." 

"I saw them in Tigrisia." After I said it, her eyes flourished as she just saw a blue butterfly. I was sure she had a baby; otherwise, she couldn't depict the feeling that deeply. I pitied her. The following months we spent together were joyful. Her lack of precaution and concern for outcomes made her unpredictable. Everyone loved her poetic words and spectacle view of the world. Doctor Lanc seemed relieved as she talked less about King Sigidmus and the kidnapped baby. 

When spring came, we wandered to the river beneath the grassland. There, we swam and talked till the dark blanket of night was laid in the sky. As she undressed her white socks, I saw a nearly healed wound on her ankle. The curved yellowish trace of the clefts looked like a bite. I pointed to her wound, "What's with the bite?" She looked at her ankle, confused, and when she saw the scar, she looked back at me with the faint terror of a remembered memory. "A hound," she said. "The animal attacked me before Sigidmus sent me here. I bet he already killed the beast." 

"Have you shown it to Doctor Lanc?" She disagreed with her head. "It is almost healed. No need for that." She splashed water on my face. "Astrid, I am afraid that I always boast about Sigidmus and never ask whether you have someone in your heart." I laughed. "Yes, Rosalie! I have. I have someone in my heart." She swam towards me, lips locked to each other, eyes widened with curiosity and lust. "He is also a king." She was resented. "Just because my lover is a king, you do not need to lie about yours," she said. I could not help smirking. "Pardon my enthusiasm. You are right. He is a peasant." 

"What's his name?" She was satiated. "Jaromir," I answered. She fluttered to my side. "Is he handsome?" she whispered. I gave her a friendly push. "He is! He is the most handsome man in the world!" I shouted to the bare land. I was afraid that I caught some of Rosalie's soul. She looked at me dully. "Darling, I am afraid you go crackers," she said, and I laughed till we returned to the cabins. We were eating leek stew. She raised her spoon and pointed at me. "I pray to god to give you and Jaromir a son as beautiful as mine." She meant it. 

A few weeks later, she started to pronounce Sigidmus more than ever. She was constantly complaining, blaming Doctor Lanc that he was preventing Sigidmus from seeing her. She stopped eating and stopped swimming. All she did was whine. She was crying to the hills, crying to God to bring back her son. I was still taking food to her cabin, even though she was not opening the door. One night, I found her door half opened and nervously walked in. She closed the door and sat me on a chair. "Astrid, they are forcefully keeping me here. They want to separate me from Sigidmus. I need to talk to him. I write him letters. I am sure Doctor Lanc doesn't let them be sent. You need to write Jaromir, Lanc won't know it. You need to tell him to find King Sigidmus and ask him to come and get me. He certainly will." She was trembling. I hugged her and tried to calm her. "Alright, dear, I will write to him. Just in case, is there anyone other than Sigidmus that might want to know about you?" She took her hands off vigorously. "Who else do I need!" She was so hot and shuddered. "Why don't you sit while I am calling Doctor Lanc?" She screamed and tried to bite my arm. I could barely escape. I closed the door behind me and ran to find Doctor Lanc. He was sitting in his room, noting down a letter. "There is something wrong with Rosalie!" He followed me hurriedly. We found her lying on her bet, still shuddering and grumbling vague words. He checked her forehead, and then his eyes blazed frightfully. He grabbed the blanket and held it as if holding a shield. He searched her arms and then legs. He saw the wound as he took the socks off. I attempted to explain, "She told me that a hound attacked her." He looked at me angrily. "Why didn't you tell me?" I felt shameful. He faced me again. "Did she bite you or scratch you?" 

"No!" I said in guilt, raising my hands to show my innocence. "I need to know whether she harmed somebody else," he said and attempted to exit the room. I grabbed his hand. "What will happen to her?" He looked down on the faint, amorph posture of the sweating, trembling woman lying on the bed desperately. "There is nothing I can do. Do not let her bite you or scratch you, or you will die too." I was all alone with the noises of mourning and faints. "Rosalie," I whispered. I was too regretful to say another word. Her eyes suddenly met mine. "Astrid," she hardly said. "Do you like to look into the sky when the sun serenaded her love to the clouds?" she said. I couldn't bear it any longer and started to weep. "Yes! Yes, I like to watch the sunset with you, Rosalie!" She smiled with satisfaction. Then her lips curled unwillingly and shivered. "Where is my son?" I was soaked in tears, gasping and unable to answer. "Where is my son?" She repeated. I finally could say, "You will meet him very soon." She looked at me, surprised. "Really?"

"Really." I nodded. She started to giggle, and her reddish eyes flourished. "Jaromir found my son?" I nodded again. "Thank you," she whispered happily. I tried to smile back. I saw the blossoms of life. Her constantly swelling and descending chest, wet skin, red face and powerful blinking eyes. A lover, I was looking at. I saw the entity of life reaching to the sky from her eyes like a hand reaching for help. The swelling stopped, wet skin dried out, and eyes stopped blinking. I faced the shadows and the flames and the sickles. It was the death itself. It was the death that would find me if I had not come to Barton Hills. The next day, we buried her on the hill, where we watched the sunset together. I realised that I underestimated death. I had romanticised it, even found honour in it. In fact, it was pure sorrow and despair. 

A few weeks later, early in the morning, Doctor Lanc dispatched a messenger to the North. I enjoyed having long walks through the valley as I genuinely felt cured. Doctor Lanc didn't find any reason for me not to. I saw him speaking to the dispatcher before he left with his carriage. As he saw me, he waved. I was counting the days to reunite with Jaromir. In the last letter of Adonis, he wrote that Jaromir also missed me and felt regretful for exiling me. He added not to come before fully recovering. Even though I was eager to head back to Tigrisia, Doctor Lanc wanted me to stay for another month just in case. The folks were silenced since the death of Rosalie. The river was dried as no rain had touched the land since the beginning of the fall. 

Doctor Lanc brought a massive turkey for a special occasion as one of the patients, Marilyn, would return home fully cured. Before handing the turkey to the kitchen, the Doctor said a few words. "I am grateful for the support of our landlord for my studies. This turkey is his gift." We all applauded, had not even seen the face of the landlord. Then, a horse rear was heard. Marilyn looked out the window and mocked, " I think he came to take the turkey back." I saw Doctor Lanc's face strained and white. "Wait here, just another dispatcher." Even though he tried to fake it, the concern in his voice was audible. He walked out and approached the horseman. I saw the red and green uniform of the men with golden neats. Then I saw the dragon sign on his hat. I thought Jaromir sent him to find me. I thought Adonis finally told him everything, so I leapt out and ran towards them. The horseman didn't even dismount.

"You are telling me that she died of rabies and was buried in here, correct?" Lanc nodded desperately. "I will transmit this to our king." Lanc raised his index finger to add a point. "I am sure King Sigidmus will send the price we agreed on soon," he said, more like asking. The man nodded firmly. "Do not hesitate our king's promise." He faced me, tilted his head down and saluted. "Lady Astrid," then rode to North, where he came from. "What price, Doctor Lanc?" I asked, feeling the heat glowing in my throat. He didn't answer. "What price?" I repeated madly. 

Poor Rosalie was right from the start. She became a victim of their wicked play. Suddenly, a terrible urge to find her son filled my heart. If I could tell Jaromir, we could see him together and make sure he is safe and okay. I packed my things and bid farewell to my fellow friends. Doctor Lanc was standing in the way of the carriage. "You cannot leave yet. It would be best to stay another month to recover fully." I avoided him. He blocked my way.

"I won't let any colleague speak from behind that I left my patient in a lurch," he whispered. "You killed your patient!" I shouted, then gave my bag to the coachman to be carried to the back. As the horses started to move, Lanc's woeful face got smaller, and after a while, nothing was seen except the small cabins spread on Barton Hill. The coachman asked, "Where shall we go, my lady?" I pinched my fingers, laid to back and gratefully said, "To Tigrisia."