Jennifer Dutton leaned in closer to the mirror, and brushed her high cheekbones with a few, quick flicks of her wrist, adding the final flourishes to an enhanced version of herself. “This is how it’s done in the theater,” she thought to herself, pondering when, and why, women first started painting their faces. It must have begun immediately, right in that first generation of humanity, she decided. Women have always pretended. Better to do it in a mask than bare-faced. Paired with her dark mascara and her bright, sparkling eyes, the blush gave her a look of bashful anticipation and eagerness. She rarely wore makeup, preferring to save it for occasions that mattered. “If you wear a tuxedo every day,” her father would say, “people will think you look casual when you wear a three-piece suit.” This meeting definitely mattered, and it definitely called for the female equivalent of a tuxedo. Her eyes, lips, and cheeks were all decorated for the occasion. She looked deeply into her eyes for a moment, and prepared herself for her first royalty review with Harry. 

She would have preferred to meet him at one of the wooded parcels. To her, these had the most life to them, and were the dynamic core of the entire estate. Not even the family homestead, with all its generations living under one roof, had the pulsing life energy of the first three parcels. She knew the land like she knew her family: The footpaths and game trails splitting off into every direction; the resting places and the nesting places of all of the critters; the seasonal water courses that came and went; the pockets of sunlight among the shade. 

While Harry had always been a treasure hunter, she was an observer, a collector of experiences and memories. The things she wanted and needed were far too large to carry in a pocket or display in a glass case. In high school, she would often see him pass by on his way to parcel 5. Many times, he walked right by her sitting like a stone not more than 20 feet away, and camouflaged by her motionlessness⏤a trick she learned from the deer. She never had any intention of letting the coins, and the wealth of this land, slip out of her hands or out of her family. She never thought she would surrender the Dutton name either, but if she had to give it up to save it, so be it. Once a Dutton, always a Dutton, no matter what name she took, and no matter whose wife she became. To sell Harry the prize, then win it back through marriage was a classic Dutton move. All she had to do was finally get his attention.

Copyright 2023 Kesel Wilson (entirely, 100% human-created)

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