Laurent woke to a ticklish sensation along his collarbone. With sleep dazed eyes he saw soft curls spread out across his chest, the ends caressing his shoulders like a feather. For one heavenly moment he thought Victoria, and smiled. But the hair on his shirt was darker than his first love's sandy blonde curls; more auburn, like soft honey and autumn leaves.
Catherine.
His hopes came crashing down. What had he expected? To find the one girl he had ever come to love laying beside him? Victoria was dead and there was nothing he could do to change it. No matter the time spent tangled in the sheets with Cath (or anyone else), his heart would not heal any faster.
But despite his broken heart, he developed a sort of protectiveness toward Cath. He could empathise with her ruined childhood, the mental and physical torture brought upon her by her unloving father. In that way, they were one and the same, Cath and Laurent. And now that she found peace at the palace, with him, he wanted to ensure she could keep it for some time.
Last night... He did not want to think about last night. The panic that befell him when Cath came tumbling down the stairs, calling out for him... It scared him. It scared him for what it meant regarding his heart, his feelings.
Gently moving her hair aside, Laurent caressed her cheek, murmuring, "Cath? It is time to wake up."
The sun already peeked over the mountains in the distance, bathing the sky in a mix of gold and red. Its delicate rays shone through the window panes, casting the silken sheets in a sparkle of blue. Like waves on the sea, his heart sang in a sorrowful melody, like Victoria's eyes.
Cath's grumbled words were too muffled by the sheet to make out, but Laurent caught the words "sleep", "stupid sun" and "go away".
He dropped a kiss on her forehead. "The sun will not go away if that is what you are suggesting."
She rolled onto her back, looking up at him. The sun caught her eyes, turning them to molten honey, twinkling as the sleepy haze cleared away. "Can we stay just a little longer?" Her hands travelled up his arm, over his shoulder, coming to rest at the nape of his neck to tangle in the loose hair.
Before he could answer, a knock sounded from the door, a faint tapping on the wood.
"Come in," Laurent sighed, turning to face the intruder.
It was Caiden, his blond hair sticking out in all directions, his bright green eyes frantic. A smile broke across his face when he saw them. "Good morning, Your Grace." He inclined his head in a bow. "Lady Catherine."
"What is it, Caiden?" Laurent asked, impatience in his tone.
Regaining his composure, Caiden said, "I have a message for you, Your Grace. From His Majesty." He produced a small rolled up paper from his sleeve. Unrolling it, he read, "'Lord Lovell, I shall meet with you tomorrow morning in my office to discuss the matter of your departure.'"
"That is no message for me," Laurent cut in, confusion settling over him.
Caiden simply held up a hand, turned the paper over and continued. "The King asked me to read both sides. Don't know why. 'Son, come to my office when you receive this letter. Do not disappoint me by being late.'"
Laurent grunted. Spending some more time laying in bed with Cath sounded relaxing and exactly what he wanted to do. Who else to ruin it than his father. "Thank you, Caiden. I shall be on my way as soon as I am ready."
With another bow, Caiden hurriedly left the room. He flashed his signature mischief grin at Laurent over a shoulder, then disappeared behind the door.
YOU ARE READING
Prince of Fire
FantasyOne day, he is only a Prince. The next, the future of their continent depends on him. In a world blessed by the gods, an identityless conqueror usurps the thrones of Inahar one by one. It all started in the kingdom of Mora ten years ago. The roya...