TER𖤐 𐦍 ☾𖤓

XXll

.𖥔 ݁ ˖₊˚✩.𖥔 ݁ ˖๋ ࣭ᰔᩚ.ᰔᩚ ⭑. ݁ ˖₊˚✩.𖥔 ݁ ˖๋ ࣭ ⭑
A Stolen Kiss

Bracing herself, the princess made to push him away on the chest with all her strength. Yet, that brawny arm held its grip on her, threatening to root out her hair by the handful if she persisted. She began to squirm and by the time she got out of his grip, her face was already shining with sweat from the effort.

As she tried to smoothen the creases on her dishevelled dress, she coldly said to him, “I don’t care what you people of Arpen think of yourselves. That is no way to treat a princess. Shame!”

She turned her back towards him and was about to walk towards her horse when she felt a strong arm snake its way around her waist while another grabbed the hair on top of her head, forcing her to look up. With absolutely no warning, he brought his lips to hers. Their lips refused to part, he was tasting her, his tongue brazenly began to explore her lips.

Confusion and thrill swept at her as he began to gently suck at the tip of her tongue, trying to pull it into his mouth. His hot, yet pleasantly-scented, breath began to flood into her, dizzying her senses. As their tongues began to play a tug-of-war, she was suddenly aware of the tingles that spread on her body. It was all so overwhelming. She had never been kissed like this before.

One hand of his snaked down to her waist and pulled it to his, hard. As the heat began to cloud her mind and threatened to overwhelm her entire body, Lune suddenly broke the grip of both his lips and hands on her. Panting, and in shock, she stood there wordlessly. The knight then seized her and roughly put her back on the saddle.

“I’ll keep my word. Come by the Lake tonight.”

* * *

Back at the palace, Rosha was looking at her anxiously while Viola was lying on her bed, drained. Still, it wasn’t like the princess could tell her what had just happened.

She didn’t have to, though. It was obvious that Rosha could’ve guessed, with her breath still coming in short pants, her face still red with exertion, and her dress dishevelled. “How could he do this?” the maid was saying.

Viola ignored her, busy with her own, still-shocked but not entirely offended thoughts. ‘Was he insane? What gave him the idea he could steal a kiss from me, a Crown Princess candidate,’ she mused.

Suddenly, something her maids said brought her back to the present.

“What was it, Rosha?”

“Princess, I said that I overheard it from one of the maids.”

“No, I mean, what did you hear, exactly.”

“That the emperor gave one of his concubines to a noble.’

“Really? What in the world would make him do such a thing?”

“I heard any concubine that did not pass the final test would be thrown out of the palace as the Emperor would have no use for them.”

‘Aha,’ Viola said to herself. So that would explain why Lune was bold enough to do what he just did.

Rosha wasn’t finished, however, saying, “The other maids are looking down on you because you’ve fallen out of favour on account of, please excuse me for this is their opinion and not mine, your unpleasant looks.”

The maid was surprised when Viola laughed, saying, “No offense meant. That’s actually good news for me, don’t you think? The Crown Prince would also have to throw me out since I’m not good enough, right?”

“You don’t understand, Your Highness. What if the Crown Prince handed you over to another noble, just like what the Emperor did?” said Rosha half-exasperatedly.

The princess was no longer listening. She agreed to what her maid said, but they were coming to two different conclusions. If she was given to another noble, she could have a divorce and return to Koronis.

But, even better, what if the noble was Lune? He could use his position as commander of the royal knights to accomplish her own king’s mission. Suddenly, the thought of those lips and hands came back to her, unbidden. ‘Be true to yourself,’ she told herself, ‘what is your real reason for wanting Lune?’

“We’ll have to meet again,” she told herself.

*

Mirroring the chaotic activity within the Crown Prince’s palace, Kyle fidgeted as he examined the prince’s facial wound, saying, “What happened? You’re bleeding!”

The prince snorted derisively and raised one hand in dismissal, as if the cut was not worthy of attention. Still, his companion worriedly tried to hold him still, as to be able to examine the wound closely, as he exclaimed, “Please sit still for a moment, Your Highness. What struck your face?”

Lustian wanted to shoo him off, but thought better of it. True, it was a shallow cut from when a stone glanced off his head yet Kyle was acting as if he lost a limb or was bleeding dry. Still, he fought Orcs without having so much as a scratch. If he was in his companion’s place, he might be worried as well.

“You should always be with a bodyguard, even within the confines of this palace. No walls are high enough or thick enough for someone with so many enemies,” said Kyle.

“Quit acting like my mother and just bring me the salve,” Lustian responded curtly.

“You know I can’t do that. The Emperor himself entrusted your safety to me with the threat of death. And if it’s all the same with you, I’d like to remain alive, thank you very much,” was the half-exasperated response, sounding very much like a mother keeping her child from burning or slicing himself open.

Like a hound latching his fangs on a bone, the Prince continued to argue: “If he was that worried, he would’ve stayed here and kept watch over his child, wouldn’t you agree?”