The Crowns Choice

❦ Chapter Fifteen: Charlotte ❦

The knock at my door was firm and insistent, a sudden intrusion that pulled me from my thoughts. It was late, and I hadn't been expecting any visitors. I hesitated for a moment, my hand hovering over the polished doorknob, feeling a flutter of curiosity mixed with apprehension. Finally, I gathered my resolve and opened it.

Standing in the doorway was Atlas Everheart, his casual smirk belying the lateness of his visit. The light from the corridor cast a halo around him, making him look almost angelic—or devilish, depending on your perspective.

"Atlas?" I blinked, caught off guard. "What are you doing here?"

He raised an eyebrow, leaning against the doorframe with an ease that made him seem right at home, despite being in my private quarters. "Aren't you going to invite me in, Princess Charming?"

I couldn't help but roll my eyes at the nickname, but I stepped aside to let him in. "You have a habit of showing up unannounced, you know that?"

He grinned as he strolled into my chambers, his gaze roaming over the room with a mix of curiosity and admiration. "Keeps things interesting, don't you think?"

The door clicked shut behind him, and I watched as he took in the space. My chambers were a stark contrast to the opulence of the grander rooms in the palace. Here, the décor was more understated but rich with personal touches. Bookshelves lined one wall, filled with well-loved volumes and trinkets I'd collected over the years. The window seat overlooked the gardens, offering a serene view of the moonlit landscape. Every item in the room, from the soft, worn rug underfoot to the delicate porcelain figurines on the mantel, spoke of a life lived with a certain degree of autonomy and personal choice.

Atlas's gaze landed on the bookshelves, and he wandered over, running his fingers along the spines of the neatly organised volumes. "You've got quite the collection here," he said, his tone carrying a hint of genuine curiosity. "Didn't peg you as the literary type."

I folded my arms, watching him with a mixture of amusement and mild defensiveness. "There's a lot more to me than you might think. I prefer to handle things on my own. No need for a maid when I've got it covered."

He turned to face me, his grey eyes reflecting a mix of admiration and something I couldn't quite decipher. "Well, it looks like I'm still figuring you out, Princess."

I stepped closer, reaching out to gently pull his hand away from the books. The moment our fingers brushed, an unexpected jolt of electricity seemed to leap between us. The playful banter of the evening seemed to dissipate, replaced by a more intense, charged atmosphere. His eyes locked onto mine, and for a moment, the air between us felt electric and laden with unspoken words.

His grey eyes, stormy and intense, held mine with an almost magnetic pull. I felt a sudden, disorienting rush of emotions, like standing at the edge of a precipice and staring into the unknown.

I cleared my throat, forcing myself to break the spell. "I think it's time we head to the garden."

Atlas didn't move right away. He continued to gaze at me with an inscrutable expression, as if he were weighing his next words carefully. Then he nodded, a small, almost imperceptible smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Lead the way, Princess."

The garden outside was bathed in the soft glow of moonlight, the cool air carrying the scent of blooming flowers and damp earth. The pathways were lined with carefully trimmed hedges, and the gentle rustling of leaves created a soothing backdrop. The occasional splash of water from the fountain added a rhythmic, calming sound to the night.

As we walked along the gravel paths, the sound of our footsteps was the only thing breaking the silence. The weight of Atlas's gaze was almost tangible, adding an undercurrent of tension to every step we took.

When we reached the fountain where we had first met, the moonlight cast a silvery glow over the scene, making it feel almost dreamlike. The photographer was hidden somewhere, observing but out of sight. The goal was to create an authentic moment, but with Atlas so close, the line between pretence and reality was becoming increasingly blurred.

"This is where we first met," Atlas remarked, his voice carrying a note of nostalgia.

I nodded, a hint of a smile playing on my lips. "It feels like it was a lifetime ago."

"Funny how things have changed," he said, his eyes never leaving mine.

The air between us was charged with an electric tension. My gaze wandered to his lips, slightly pink from the cool night air, and then back up to his eyes. The magnetic pull was undeniable, an irresistible urge to close the distance between us.

I leaned in, my breath mingling with his, but just as our lips were about to touch, I pulled back, a teasing smile on my face. "Pretend that this is real," I whispered, my heart racing.

Atlas's eyes flickered with a mix of surprise and amusement. "Right. Pretend," he replied, his voice low and playful.

We stood there, suspended in a charged silence. I couldn't help but smile, the thrill of the game making my pulse quicken. He stepped closer, his hand reaching out to gently hold my throat, his touch both firm and tender. It was as if he was trying to anchor me in the moment, to make the pretence feel more real.

"Princess," he murmured, his voice a low growl. "I don't play to lose."

The intensity of his gaze made it hard to focus on anything else. I could feel his thumb brushing lightly against my neck, sending shivers down my spine. His other hand was firm against my waist, drawing me in closer until our bodies were almost touching.

My mind was a whirl of thoughts and emotions, but the sensation of his lips on mine was overwhelming. The kiss was slow and tentative at first, as if we were both gauging each other's reactions. But then it deepened, the passion between us surging like a tidal wave, sweeping us both along.

The world outside the garden seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of us in a private bubble of intimacy. I could feel the heat of his body, the firmness of his grip, and the softness of his lips as they moved against mine. It was exhilarating and overwhelming, a moment of pure connection that was both thrilling and terrifying.

When we finally pulled apart, both of us were breathless, our foreheads resting against each other. I could see the stormy depth of his eyes, reflecting the tumult of emotions I felt.

"Atlas," I whispered, my voice shaky but sincere. "We should..."

He nodded, his expression serious but with a flicker of that familiar cocky grin. "Yeah... we should."

But neither of us moved, caught up in the lingering heat of the moment. The photographer was still out there, hidden in the shadows, but his presence seemed almost irrelevant compared to the intensity of what we had just shared.

I cleared my throat, trying to regain some composure. "We should probably get those photos done."

Atlas's smirk returned, a hint of his usual confidence back in place. "Let's give them a show then, shall we?"

As we posed for the remaining photos, I found it hard to concentrate. My mind kept drifting back to the kiss, the way his lips had felt against mine, the way his hands had held me. It was as if everything else had faded into the background, leaving only the memory of our shared moment.

When the session was over, I turned to him, attempting to sound nonchalant. "Thank you for this."

He gave me a warm, genuine smile, his earlier cocky demeanour softened. "Anytime, Princess."

I watched him leave, my heart still racing from the kiss and the unexpected depth of our connection. Closing the door behind me, I leaned against it, letting out a shaky breath. My mind was a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions, the kiss with Atlas changing everything in ways I wasn't quite ready to understand.