“Oh…Alasdair,” I whisper.
The faerie is even more spectacular than the adept artistry of the butterflies. Her body is drawn onto either side of a cutout piece of paper. I bring her closer so that I can inspect her details. Up close, I see the figure is somewhat rudimentary, yet at the same time, it adds to her charm. But it is her wings that set her apart. They are considerably larger than her body, and their framework is also cut out of paper, outlining the shape of each wing. Yet, every space between the finely cut frames glows and shimmers with the brightest blue feathers I have ever seen.
“Truly spectacular,” I whisper to myself.
Curious at how he could have assembled such a thing, I see the underside is framed as well. “How clever you are,” I say with a sense of pride I do not understand.
He took a brilliant, iridescent feather and inserted it between the cutout frames he colored black. The end result is what you would think an actual faerie’s wing could look like. Alasdair Stewart’s mind is proving to be far more interesting than the average suitor.
Once again, the effort and thought he put into his gift do not go unnoticed—or unappreciated. My fingers drift around the arrangement as I study this and that. I can’t seem to step away from my admiration of the immense variety that thrives in his garden.
And what do we have here?
I find a small folded piece of paper tucked between the vee of a thick branch.
My stomach flips in excitement. Alasdair has already trained me to anticipate his words. Inside, there are only a few, but their meaning…Oh Lord. Why does this make me so happy?
Ella,
You inspire me.
Alasdair