Amaia sat in awe. These memories were clearly familiar to him. She held the same ones in her mind, but hers were obscured behind the veil of mortality. She wanted to hear them all. “Yes.”
Michael laughed. “Very well. I still remember the moment I met you as if it had been last night. There I was, drinking, miserable, wondering how I was ever going to live up to my family’s expectations. Richard had always been the one who knew how to politick. He was the lord, not I. I just wanted to sail my ships, to earn my own way. I remember feeling guilty for worrying about such things when I had just lost my brother. Then you sat down across from me. You wore a pale blue and cream dress and a black choker with a little golden heart charm on it. You weren’t the first of your profession to approach me that night, but you were the only one I wanted. There was something in your eyes, in the way they seemed to understand me before I even opened my mouth. I knew in that moment that my life would never be the same.”
As he spoke, Amaia watched the events unfold in her mind’s eye. “You lie. There’s no way you could have known.”
Michael chuckled. “I did. You don’t meet the woman of your dreams and not know in that moment that everything is going to be different from then on. I found it charming how befuddled you were that I just wanted to talk. I never bought that you were a whore.”
“I was.”
“I know. But still, that wasn’t you. You were always much too charming and witty, not to mention intelligent and gracious to ever be a courtesan.”
“Those are the qualities that made me good at my job.”
“No, those were the things that made you the type of woman men sought after. They were willing to pay as much as they did because you shouldn’t have been on the market in the first place.”
Michael was the only man who had ever spoken to her this way, as if there was a part of her that was separate from her profession, as if her line of work didn’t define her. It was easy to see how she had fallen for him. Listening to him speak, she felt herself slipping into the same feelings she had harbored as a mortal.
“What do you remember about your other lives? How did you remember me?” Amaia couldn’t resist asking. Gazing into the mirror of his memories reflected a version of herself she’d never seen.
“I thought that was off limits.” Michael’s tone was light.
“No, my life is off limits.”
A light grunt escaped Michael’s chest as he leaned forward, forearms resting on his thighs. “I used to dream of you. When I was a child, I thought you were a fairy watching over me. I’d catch glimpses of your eyes when I was out playing. It was like that in all my lives. Even as I grew up, I dreamt of you. The first few lives, there weren’t any solid memories, but I always felt comforted and joyful when you were in my dreams, a content feeling that eluded me during my waking hours.” Michael propped his elbows on the back of the bench and stretched his legs out in front him, crossing them at the ankles. “Three lives ago, I swear I saw you. I was hunting and decided to go home. When I looked back, I know I locked eyes with you, but just as quickly, you were gone. How did you know to be there?”
Amaia shook her head. “I told you, I’ll not answer any questions. I know it’s not fair.” She placed her hand on his arm, hoping it would take some of the hurt from her answer.
“I don’t care about fair, Amaia. I care about you.” He smiled at her, and his face held no judgment, only acceptance and love. Amaia had to look away. “Two lives ago, when I was a nun, you came and spoke with me. I remember that. I don’t know why you decided to do it, but I’m glad. I didn’t know you then, only that you were familiar. I convinced myself you couldn’t be the same woman from my dreams. It was too absurd.”
“Ironic, given that you were a nun. I suppose it must be hard to believe what’s right in front of your eyes when you’re so used to blind faith.” Amaia knew she was interjecting words designed to hurt him. Pushing him away when she wanted him close, making him not want her so she wouldn’t want him was an ingrained habit, one that stemmed from their mortal relationship.
Michael ignored the remark. “When I came into my next life and the memories of my time as a nun infiltrated my dreams, I knew you would come again.”
“What was it like being a woman?” Amaia couldn’t imagine being a man.
“It was fine at the time. I didn’t realize there was anything different until I remembered it in my next life. It was quite a shock to be a young man and know that I had lived as a woman. I’ve spent a lot of time since then thinking about you in light of my experience. It made me appreciate your need for control over your own life. In a way, I think I needed that time to help me better understand you. My love for you deepened when I gained a greater appreciation for the circumstances of your life. You do know that I was in love with you, right?”