Her Fair Maiden

Forgive Me (I Have Loved Too Deeply)

    

  ———————————————
     It's been more than ten minutes since she left the room, and still you find yourself standing in the same spot. Her last words, along with her last touch, linger in your mind. Until we meet again, my dear girl—that's what she said before she placed a tender kiss on your forehead, leaving you utterly dumbfounded. Though she snapped at you, it's nearly impossible not to think about her. You should be furious, not flustered, because of something as simple as a kiss, but it's her kiss. That makes things one thousand times more complicated. Who knew one woman could leave you so conflicted? Sure, you've been with other women, but somehow, in some strange way, she's so very different.
    The real question is, is her being so drastically unlike the others something to be excited about or worried about? Only time can tell. No, only giving her a chance will tell.
     You forcibly break your reverie. Once you finally look away from the door at which she left you, the thought comes to mind that you should be working. You quickly gather yourself and amble back to the bed to grab the rest of the spread. More accurately, most of it; hence, all you managed to get off were pillow cases.
     You first pull the luxurious comforter off and place it next to the pillow cases. Then you bundle the sheets up, but before you toss them aside, you pause. You hold them gently in your hands. You really shouldn't, but who will know? Impulsively, you bring the fabric to your nose. Sweet scents of orchids, roses, and even faint hints of wine fill your nose. You drown in her essence, holding the soft linen as close as possible—maybe even embracing it.
"Uh, what are you doing?" someone asks. You're so caught up in your unprofessional act that you didn't hear anyone come in.
     You turn around and stumble to hide the fabric behind your back. You're met with Juliani's amused face. "Nothing! Just some routine laundry. Nothing more," you say, giving her a stiff smile. "What are you doing?"
She snorts. "Yeah, I'm not believing that. I saw you stumble to hide those sheets behind you."
"I... have nothing to say about that."
"Damn Blondie, I knew you had a thing for the countess, but this is on a whole other level of strange," she adds, dismissing your response.
"It's not like that!"
"It doesn't matter what it's like. You look like a total creep!"
"I was just—I was just curious, okay?"
"You're obsessed with her, aren't you?" she coyly asks, "She put a spell on you or something?"
"No!" You quickly blurt out. "It's not anything like that. And to answer your question, no, she didn't; not that it's any of your business anyways," you mutter under your breath.
"Come on now. I'm just playing with you! Lighten up a bit."
    "Correct me if I'm wrong, but you're quite interested in her yourself."
     "You're wrong," she says with a smug grin. "Do I think she's attractive? Oh, absolutely. Would I ever want to be romantically involved with her? Not in a million—no—trillion years."
     "Why? What's so bad about being romantically involved with her?"
     "Do I really have to remind you?"
     "Right," you whisper as your mouth curves into a frown. The dark remembrance that you'd managed to forget comes crashing in again: her razor-sharp claws, her overpowering strength, and her brief harshness toward you mere minutes ago.
     Her mood changes before she asks, "You really like her, don't you?"
     "How can I say that? I've only known her for a few hours."
     "Love has an interesting way of affecting us."
     Her words surprise you. Before you can think, your mouth moves for you. "You think it's love?"
     "I'm afraid only you can figure that out."
     "Unfortunately, I know," you say, turning your back to face the laundry once again.
     The room goes still as Juliani starts her original job of gathering dishes. While she does that, you grab the linen to put in a basket. An imaginary basket that is because you forgot to get one. Instead of fetching one, from wherever they are, you decide to fold the enormous things.
     Juliani interrupts in the middle of the process, unintentionally. "You know, she's not angry with you."
     She doesn't even have to say her name. It's obvious she's talking about Viviani.
     "She fears for you more than anything," she continues. "She's had her own experiences. The kind of experiences she never wants anyone else to have."
"What exactly do you mean by that?"
"That's for her to tell you, not me."
You chose to keep the childish comments at bay. If it's that horrific, maybe it's for the best that you don't know for now.
Her words ease your mind, and for that, you're grateful. If Viv is only fearful, you have a chance to fix things.
"Thank you, Jules."
"It's my pleasure," she pauses momentarily. "I just had the greatest idea. I should call you Ant."
You look at her, dumbfounded. "What?"
"Think about it! It's in your name, and in comparison to the lady, you're the size of one."
"Well, that's plain stupid."
"Exactly."
You smile brightly. "How am I supposed to get any work done with you around?
"You won't, so I'll do you a favor and take my leave."
"It's probably for the best," you agree. "I'll see you at lunch?"
"You know it."
She gives you a two-finger wave from under the metal tray holding glassware. "Be careful!" You say as you wave back to her. She nods in response. You immediately turn back to your work.
"Could you actually get this door for me?" she calls not a second later.
"Of course!"
Once she's halfway down the hall, you close the door. You saunter back to your now neatly stacked bedding, only to realize you should've asked her where to acquire a hamper. It's too late now, so the hard way it is. You pick it up and start towards the laundry room.