HOLLOW

AGÁPE, KALOPSIA, Spring, 1649

"Reverie," he whispered, hands appearing to rest on her lower belly as he nuzzled his chin in the space between her neck and shoulder.

He pressed her hips against while his lips were a ghost of touch, tantalizing the skin of her neck. A shiver ran down her body and erected the hair on her skin. The moonlight coming from the window at their backs illuminated the kitchen in shadows and sent a thrill of excitement through her blood.

"Hiraeth," she said, voice rough as she felt his smile at her back.

She turned to face him.

Hiraeth wasted no time in resting his hands at her sides on the counter where her lower back was pressed against. Her face lifted to meet his eyes that under the moonlight turned into a tone of dark crystal blue.

"It would be wise to get some air," he said.

"Indeed," Reverie replied.

She swallowed butterflies, letting them fly free on her stomach as his smile grew. They walked out of the kitchens and used a door in the servant's passages.

Outside, under the starlit sky, the prince of shadows took her by the hand and ran with her through dark mazes, hiding from night guards, escaping rules and the world they were born into.

He walked the princess across her land and watched her gather night bloomers. They came to a low hill on the opposite side of the waterfall. They were far enough to think the enormous palace and its gardens were smaller, after a stretch of flat land mildly covered with tall trees.

He could not possibly know, but Reverie loved this place.

Growing up, she used to wander here to be alone with nature, most of the time just to escape the noisiness of the royal household. It was a clearing in a forest that was trying to earn the title of one. The grass was taller and kissed the skin of her legs through her dress. With the mid-spring rolling around, it was the perfect place to be during a night walk or escapade.

A smile bloomed on her lips as she traced the wood of one of the hollow trees that gave the clearing its circular shape. The leaves of these trees were bright green during the day, but now they were dark and kissed by the moon, full and watching them. Watching as her fingers traced the veins of the trunk. Watching Hiraeth when he hugged her from behind, making her smile. Watched them when he grabbed her waist and legs and lifted her from the ground.

"Hiraeth," Reverie laughed, searching his eyes for an interpretation for the daring and amused smile brightening his lips.

He put her down on the ground in the centre of the clearing and took two steps back, curtsied, and asked, "May I have this dance, Your Royal Highness?"

Her heart thundered, and its raging beat pounded on her ears as Reverie curtsied back and gave her hand to Hiraeth. He took it and led them through the steps of the waltz he had watched her perform on that night's ball.

Sensing the direction of her thoughts, he pulled her waist closer and let his lips roam the skin of her neck. Roaming, teasing-but not touching.

Reverie wanted him to. And she wanted to taste him back. But however she felt he wanted the same, he would not do it. Not tonight.

Not with his lips, at least.

Because he did not stop himself from letting his hands travel lightly down the bare skin of her forearms. Or when Reverie was lying against his chest as he spoke about everything while she listened to every word, he did not stop himself from curling pieces of her unbound hair in his fingers.

In return, Reverie traced the lines of his jaw with her fingers, the curve of his thin lips, the protruded vein on his neck the moonlight must want her to notice.

Afterwards, he placed the flowers Reverie had gathered on her hair, and they started dancing again, under the moonlight surrounded by the hollow trees.