Once Upon A [Hidden] Time - [Stolen] Series IV

CHAPTER 10

JASMINE
1198

Time moved at a painful crawl. A month had passed, and he had not visited again. I seemed to live in constant hope, revisiting lost time through some miracle in the woods, where I had once met him. Killing my time with a good book, I sometimes imagined him as a prince from a faraway land who would come one day to rescue me. In the characters of my imaginary world, I had started to grow defiance and arrogance for affection, a blind desire to be discovered by my beloved character. I grew a hope that our secret would become an open scandal so I would not need to hide my feelings, and need not to search for him every day at court.

While I immersed myself in state matters and healing my subjects, my mind still wandered off, wondering where I could find him. In a month, I had turned my other obsession into a reality, constructing the finest place in the world, a jewel in the crown of royal palaces. I extended the palace, adding a library and commissioning the best pieces of literature from around the world, so that nobody in my kingdom was deprived of knowledge.

As the night drew closer, I grew more restless. The moon unfurled over the palace, and candles glistened in every window. Two things had made me anxious. First was the damn flower that had kept me waiting for it to bloom for the past month. Would any of the seven flowers ever bloom tonight? And if one did, what exactly would I have accomplished from it?

Second, I wondered how, when, and where he would come again. He was the disrespectful man who had come brazenly into my court a month ago, looking me in the eye, announcing his feelings, and then digging out my heart and taking it with him. His appearance had always been a pleasant surprise, but perhaps tonight, my hopes would have to linger on the flowers again. The odds of a flower blooming tonight were higher than the odds of him coming to me.

Out of boredom, I picked up my vielle and started playing some music, taking a seat on the comfort of my bed. The night was painfully slow. The autumn breeze blew gently across my chamber through the terrace door.

After many nights, I had not entertained myself with lavish dinners and music. Instead, I wanted to stay in my chamber, alone with my mind. I was not a person to avoid crowds, but I had noticed how my courtiers had started looking at me—a meek Queen who had failed to hold authority over a man. I did not even ask him where he was from and what his intentions were—besides stealing my heart. I knew not if he was nobility or a mere peasant, but the way he walked in with grace showed me that he did hold some power.

After playing music for some time, I fixed my gaze on the flowerpot. I was surprised to find that one of the flowers had started to bloom very slowly. I would have to wait the whole night to watch this flower open in all its glory.

"The way she looks at the flowers," I heard a man's voice—a voice that possessed me utterly. "They belong to her, and she belongs to them."

"How did you get in here?" I jumped from the bed, looking towards the terrace door. Did he climb through the terrace and sneak into my chamber? How come no guard saw him?

"Is that how you welcome your guest?" he asked, giving me his same waggish smile, which I believed he kept only for me.

"Guest?" I snorted. "Guests are the ones I invite, not those who sneak in like a cat into my privacy."

Without seeking my permission, he took a seat on the armchair. "I will go if you tell me to go."

I folded my arms, narrowing my gaze at him.

"Conceited, are we?" I chuckled. He gave the same impish smile, wedged deep in his cheeks, his grey eyes shining with a childlike delight as twilight cast an amber glow on his handsome face. "And what makes you think I would let you stay in my chamber?"

"Because..." He got onto his feet and closed the distance between us. My feet were frozen on the rug under me, as if his eyes had locked me in a gilded cage, and I was some exotic bird who failed to fly away. "You are curious about me." He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. I closed my eyes at the sensation of his touch. I had not felt this way before. He was making me weak. "You want to know what I am capable of." His absolute certainty that everything would pan out exactly as he had planned made me, for the first time, doubt my ability to outwit him. I felt his fingers entwining with mine, holding them securely, the warmth of his touch—the benediction I sought. "Look at me." I complied with his command and opened my eyes. He was diving into my soul—his jaw set, the cheekbones as rigid as a carved marble statue, eyes slowly darkening like ashes, burning me with him. "Who do you think I am?"

I pondered his question. "A trader!"

"A trader?" he repeated, chuckling. "And what trade do I have with Her Majesty?"

"An exchange of hearts?" What was I saying? I should not have spoken that aloud, but it was too late. He did not mock me this time with his smile. His eyes grew darker like burning ashes as he held on to my stare. I even forgot to blink.

He pulled out his sword from the scabbard and again laid it at my feet. Austere in latticed velvet that adhered to a body as if forged by battle, he himself resembled a sword—his beauty both breath-taking and arresting.

Brushing my dark brown waves away and sending warmth down to my extremities, he leaned in to plant his lips on mine.

I closed my eyes, inviting him in. His unrelenting provocation generated overwhelming desires in me. I had not lain with a man before, but his touch was making me a sinner. Slowly and gently, I lay on my bed—his warmth against me spreading tingles throughout my body. With one kiss, I was divested of my silk robe. He lay beside me, his sensuous fingers grazed over my skin, which was guarded by the flimsy sheer fabric of my nightdress.

"There is no beautiful woman that my eyes had ever seen, other than you." His voice was silky and entreating. I opened my eyes and watched a dozen emotions skidding through his eyes. "I know you have come across many suitors who must have said almost the same thing." His finger created a silhouette across my jaw. "Who must have laid all their wealth at your feet." I wanted to ignore his words, knowing he was right, and try to coach myself away from the host of implausible desires that crowded my mind—but I failed, my body deceiving me again. "I have nothing to offer you except my body, heart, and soul." His hand raked down my neck to my bosom. I sucked in a breath. "Until I bate my last breath, this body shall belong to you."

Pressing my head on his chest, I absorbed his words like absolution. "Then make love to me," I commanded.

No, it was not a command; it was a plea. I craned my neck to give him access to kiss me. We undressed feverishly, with an angry passion, scratching each other's skin and melting into silences. We learned each other's bodies by heart and buried all thoughts of those thirty days of separation.

My eyes landed on the flowerpot. One has fully bloomed—like my heart, like a door opening to a beautiful fairy tale which was about to start. This fairy tale was ours solely—a start of a beautifully narrated story where love was only magic, and only two characters existed—he and I. There was no villain in our love story.

There was nothing else in my mind other than him claiming me tonight. With my heart, he had stolen my wits, too.