Tonight?

“Forty years is a long time.” Lenzor murmured to himself from the dark corner of the bare stone room. Liane, his wife, slept opposite him, her face pale and thin, skin clinging to her skull.

Tonight was Lenzor’s turn with the dagger. It twisted slowly in his fingers. They had run away together, him a poor farmer, her the daughter of a lord. They were married in secret and came here to hide. No one would be stupid enough to look for them here.

Lenzor had found the dagger on the first night, their wedding night. It was laying inside a small chest in the corner of this very room. He eyed the inscription that was etched into the blade: Take a life with me, or preserved forever be.

They tried to leave the next day but couldn’t. Whenever they walked out the front gate, they simply found themselves back inside this room.

He crept closer to Liane. She was snoring. Moonlight fell through a window above her head. There was nothing to eat, nothing to do - no more rooms to explore, no more books to read in the old castle library.

“You take the dagger tonight. If you decide to end it, kill me in my sleep. If not, I’ll take it tomorrow.” She’d told him that thirty years ago.

Lenzor crawled closer to Liane, the dagger clinking as it dragged on the stone floor.

His fingers stroked her cheek. So pale. So thin. This isn’t life.

His other hand rose, blade catching the moonlight. His arm trembled, the blade hanging in the air for endless seconds. Then, his arm fell. The dagger clanged to the floor. He lay beside his wife, letting his arm pull her frail form close.

Not tonight.