The Unwanted Princess

Moonlit Revelations

They had me and Simon move into the same room a few nights after the engagement, more specifically his room. I hated putting all my stuff in his drawers and closet space. It felt like I was moving somewhere without permission. He told me it was alright, but it still bothered me. Even more so since he wouldn't even use his bed as long as I was in it.

In classic Simon fashion, he secluded himself on the leather couch in the corner of the room. He never once complained about it being uncomfortable, but it couldn't be luxurious at all. It's not even as if the bed is too small—it's a full-sized king; he just refuses to sleep next to me.

I wonder if it's because he feels I would be uncomfortable, but he doesn't seem considerate enough to think that. It's more likely because he's uncomfortable. I can't blame him; this isn't exactly the best situation. We move around each other like the world would implode if we happened to brush our arms in passing.

He does, however, keep his mask off in his room. I am embarrassed to admit the numerous nights I stayed up late to analyze his resting features. I wanted to memorize his face. Every pore, line, nook, and cranny. Simon's skin was incredibly smooth besides the blond stubble that would sometimes show itself in the late afternoons. His eyebrows, hair, and nails were well-manicured along with his physique. I noticed he woke early in the mornings, before the sun even rose, to go and train. I only knew because of his attire and the slight salty musk that lingered on him when he returned.

We were a silent pair. I can't complain. We seem to get along better when words are not spoken. There were only a few moments when I felt he wanted to say something to me, but he never did. For instance, just the other night I was out on the balcony reading, a candle propped on the table beside me for light, and he sat next to me with such hesitance I couldn't even focus on the novel in front of me.

I glanced at him. "Something the matter?"

"No," he replied plainly.

"Out here for just shits and giggles?"

His brows furrowed. "You are quite the instigator."

I went back to my book. "You are disturbing my peace."

"So I can't enjoy the night air on my own balcony?" His voice was slightly teasing.

"No, that's not what I said."

"That's what you mean though, isn't it?"

"No."

For the rest of that night, we said nothing. At events and other gatherings, we were the perfect pair—all smiles and hand-holding—but it disappeared the moment no one was watching. That made me crave it all the more. I mean, it's only natural, right? We all want to be loved, touched, and cared for. Even though the emotions behind it are all fake, the action is real.

I wanted so desperately for him to just share the bed with me, but I couldn't possibly ask. Of course, I wanted him to be comfortable in his own room, but at the same time, I secretly wished we would accidentally end up in each other's arms in the morning.

But ever since the proposal, it has been go time. One meeting after another, paperwork everywhere, events and parties to attend, and pictures to take. We had little to no time for ourselves, and when we did, one of us was either asleep or somewhere else in the palace.

Lady Seraphina and Loria were a good distraction. We all would go out to have tea together, despite Loria only being my handmaid. They were an enjoyable presence, and it was nice to have some proper girl time. We would discuss different topics, but every time the subject matter would turn back to Simon.

"So you get to see his face every day?" Loria asked with the curiosity of a child. "Describe it."

"Oh no." I shook my head and took a sip of my tea. "I mustn't."