The Swan Princess

Chapter 23: Head over Heels

Visions float through my mind.

A handsome prince.

A gallant knight.

A bleeding, bloody rose.

They twist, centering in an inward spiral until they fade into an armored, rose-shaped hybrid. Black spots dot my vision, and I struggle to focus on the metal-coated flower. What's happening?

A knock on the door pulls me from my daze. Was I sleeping?

That explains the strange visions. I shake my head, gathering my thoughts. I'm in Princess Insun's bedchamber. The four-poster bed has pink, gauzy curtains that sway around me, creating a cocoon of softness and comfort.

On my right, presents cover my bedside table. In front and center is a stationary set, postage already adorned to send letters home. A navy and gold brooch sits beside it, so that I may "have a piece of Svenia wherever I go." Lastly, in a soft black pouch, is a pearl necklace. One for every day I've spent with you, is written in the note that flutters out of the bag. For all his rakish behaviors, the prince gifts so thoughtfully...

A light, gentle breeze streams through the window to my left, slowing my thoughts. Tranquil enough that I take the opportunity to lay back down, ready to return to slumber.

"Care to join me on a walk today, dearest Insun?"

Siegfried's voice pulls me back awake.

"Princess Insun," I remind him. I release a sigh. This has gone on far too long. I need to speed up this process, before my looming curse consumes me.

I prowl to the dark oak dresser to my right. I sent my friends out yesterday on a mission: find the most shocking items within these castle gates. What could I wear to scandalize him today?

I throw open the doors with a feral grin. This will be perfect.

I see dyed, dark corsets, meant to be worn overtop instead of beneath clothes. Pants, instead of skirts. Dresses with either plunging V's or rising slits, more fit for a courtesan than a princess. Yet, it's the forbidding, navy overcoat on the left that catches my eye.

I pull it out, sliding my slender arms into the oversized garment. Then, I prowl to my bed, the perfect trap to snare a wanting prince.

"Prince," I say, "You may come in."

"Princess," he says, entering with the smooth grace of an elite predator. He stops. Eyes wide, his lips quirk.

"Magnificent attire today," he comments. "Are you wearing anything under it?"

I throw him a mischievous smile, running my hand to the edge of the cloak. He stares. Keeping eye contact, I push the fabric up my leg. Inch. By. Inch.

He makes jagged steps towards me, and I push the coat up further in tandem. First, to my ankles, then, up my calves. Sweat beads on his brow, until his arms rest at the edge of the bed, face wild. Then I push back the cloak further still, revealing the full extent of my creamy calves, and pajama-covered thighs.

He releases a breath, unclenching his fists. "Insun," he chides. He shakes his head in mock disapproval. "A simple yes would have sufficed."

"Without the show?" I tease. He flicks my nose. Despite myself, I smile, relaxing into the cushions. He continues to stare, his eyes roving.

Up close, I drink him in. His hair is gelled back today, letting his sharp features shine through. Backlit by the light from the hallway, he appears to glow, like some sort of handsome, powerful god above.

By contrast, I'm in my pajamas, now showing beneath his cloak. My room is unkept, surrounded by books, clothes, and makeup. I have piles of rouge and kohl surrounding me, the remnants of wanting to experiment with makeup last night.

"Sorry, little prince, but I can't dally too long with you this morning. I have afternoon tea later today."

He rolls his eyes. "I'll tell my sister to cancel it." He rises, and, in a swift motion, hops on the bed beside me.

My breath catches. "Is there a reason you jumped into my bed?"

"Are you telling me I need a reason? I am a prince." He wiggles his eyebrows.

"And I am a princess," I respond, trying to match his haughty tone.

He laughs, throwing his head back into the pillows like a man who's never been more carefree. Weird. He must be happy today.

I move my makeup aside, worried he'll roll over and crush it. It also gives me something to do, besides gape at the prince in my bed.

He props his head up on one shoulder, observing. "May I do your makeup?" he asks out of the blue.

"What?" I drop the kohl I was holding.

"Let me," he says. He picks it up, then — faster than I can object — moves to straddle me.

My heartbeat suddenly feels like its about to pound out of my chest. I'm lying down fully, and he's sitting across my stomach, caging me in with his body. His powerful thighs pin me to the bed, and he smirks at me from above.

"May I?" he asks again.

Swallowing, I nod. "Yes."

He leans down until I can feel his breath. One hand cups my cheek. "Close your eyes," he commands, his rose and woodsy scent wafting over me. My heartbeat flutters. I have never been in this position with a man before. My core warms, and I close my eyes, ignoring the butterflies racing around each other in my stomach.

With a featherlight touch, he tips the kohl to my lash line.

Without my vision, my sensation of touch is enhanced. I feel every wriggle, push, weight, or grasping sensation of him upon me, touching my face and body. The intimacy both excites and terrifies me.

"Have you ever lost anyone, Insun?"

Lost anyone? I didn't think this conversation would go there. Especially not when I'm so heated that I can't think of anything but his body against mine.

"I lost everything, Prince." I admit. He pauses. "I lost my ca — my country. My people. I lost everything I had to the war, and gained nothing in return."

His arm moves to squeeze my shoulder. "I'm sorry, Princess." Sieg's hand brushes against my hair before returning to my cheek.

He moves closer, presses a chaste kiss to the finished eyelid, then moves to the other one.

"Don't smudge your work," I whisper.

"Never," he replies, squeezing my hip before continuing.

"Today is the anniversary of the day I lost my brother," he says, his body stiffening against mine. "I used to think I'd wake up this day and feel remorse, pity... fury. But—" he chuckles darkly. "Instead, I woke up haunted, thinking, how will I please my princess when I'm in this foul of a mood?"

"Siegfried," I murmur. "You don't have to please me."

I hear him open the tin of rouge, and my eyes fly open. He dips his thumb into the red solid, then presses it to my lips.

"Shh," he says, pushing lightly along my mouth. "I can think of nothing better to do." He stares intently in my eyes as he coats my lips with his fingers. I can't speak, only observe, as he paints me. He grasps my head when he's done, stroking the rogue onto my cheekbones.

"Good princess," he says, finished. I can only stare, as if in a trance.

"It will be time for tea soon," he adds, sliding off me. "I will have to settle with seeing you again at dinner."

"Dinner," I agree, back in control. What just happened? How did I go from the temptation, to the tempted?

He eyes my attire once again. "Next time you want something of mine, princess, you only have to ask."

"What about your heart?" I throw out.

He reaches the door, then spins to face me. Spreading his arms wide, he bows. "Already yours."