The Immortal King (Wizardy Romance)

A Fateful Encounter+

The moment when Charlene came face to face with Lincoln Flint, sparked a connection that neither of them could ignore, setting the wheels of destiny in motion.

Lincoln sensed her presence before he saw her, the air thickening with an unfamiliar yet inviting energy that pulled him from his solitude. There she stood, the same woman he had once glimpsed in a corridor. He had been hunting an enemy and didn't want to frighten her with his blood-stained clothes. Instantly captivated, he felt an uncharacteristic emotion—a sensation long foreign to him. In the ball gown, she appeared different from the maid outfit, breathtakingly beautiful; the black gown was far too costly for a maid's salary.

Charlene wandered through the expansive art gallery, her sanctuary from the demanding world outside. The high ceilings loomed like the sky, and the white walls cradled masterpieces that whispered stories of love, loss, and passion. Each brush stroke seemed to sing to her, pulling her deeper into a sea of color and emotion. As a curator and guardian of beauty, she was no stranger to art; yet tonight, an unfamiliar sensation threaded through her. A tingling anticipation danced under her skin, urging her to explore the gallery beyond her usual attentiveness.

The atmosphere hummed with energy, alive with the mingling of voices and the distant clink of champagne flutes at the evening's gala opening.  As she moved from one exhibit to another, a striking portrait caught her eye; a tempestuous landscape painted in shadows and vibrant blazes of crimson. It captured a raw energy that mirrored her own suppressed feelings—a longing she had tucked deep within the depths of her soul. Entranced, she stepped closer, letting her fingers graze the frame. 

"Beautiful, isn't it?" a deep voice rumbled from her left, causing her to startle slightly. Turning, Charlene met the captivating gaze of a man who cut an imposing figure against the backdrop of art. Lincoln Flint was not what she had expected. Sharp features, tousled dark hair that seemed sculpted by the winds of creativity, and an intensity within his grey eyes that felt almost magnetic. It was as if he were an artwork himself, standing half in shadow, half illuminated by the evening light streaming through the large windows.  He looked familiar, like the shadow of a man she had seen in the corridor. 

She loved art as much as magic, and he was both.  "Yes," she managed to whisper, feeling the heat rise to her cheeks. The moment his gaze locked onto hers, the gallery melted away, moving into a forgotten blur. 

Lincoln stepped closer, his presence exuding a warmth that contrasted with the cool air of the gallery. "I commissioned that piece from Overseas. It's meant to evoke the passion and chaos of life without shying away from the darker bits." His voice was smooth, laced with an underlying fervour that both moved and intrigued her.

Charlene swallowed hard, suddenly aware of the rapid beat of her heart, a rhythm wholly unfamiliar amongst the composed surroundings of her professional life. "You don't shy away from the chaos in your life," she blurted out, surprised at her own boldness.

His laugh came out like a soft melody, carrying warmth despite the weight of the observation. "I think we all have our chaos, don't we? The trick is to find beauty in it. I'm Lincoln, by the way."

"Charlene," she replied, extending her hand hesitantly. When their hands touched, an electric current sparked between them, igniting something that felt visceral and undeniable; a recognition that lay deep in the recesses of their souls, igniting a fire that neither had anticipated.

"What brings you here tonight?" Lincoln asked, his attention focused entirely on her, as if she were the only piece of art that mattered.

"I'm not supposed to be here," she confessed, afraid that he will realise she's just a maid.  Under the splendour gown she was just a coward hiding from an arranged marriage. 

He lifted an eyebrow, a grin spreading over his face, revealing a warmth that made her heart flutter inexplicably. "So where are a beautiful woman like you supposed to be?"

His praise ignited hot, steamy visions of them in bed, leaving her momentarily breathless. "Thank you, but I need to go," she said, brushing it off.

"Who are you?'' stepping a fraction closer, the air thickening with unspoken words. "And why do I feel like I was supposed to meet you tonight?''

Bringing herself back to reality and striving to appear ladylike, she created a distinction between them: "I am just a normal person, your highness. Please forgive me; I really have to go." Flirting with the man so close was too dangerous. He made her feel things she had never experienced before, and she could see on his face that he knew and enjoyed the effect he had on her.

He cornered her, ensuring there was nowhere left for her to escape. With her back pressed against the painting, she felt a shiver run through her at the intensity of his closeness.

Lincoln said, his gaze piercing. "Or perhaps I'm waiting for the right muse to inspire me."

The silence that followed held tension, the gallery pulse fading into the background. Their connection felt immediate and profound, as though written in the stars long before their paths had crossed. 

As if awakening from a trance, Charlene gently pushed him away, shaking her head to rid herself of the dizzying sensation. "This is going to start gossip, your highness," she reminded him, the ludicrousness of the connection both thrilling and terrifying. 

Lincoln took a deep breath, the playful smile fading slightly but his gaze holding firm. "Sometimes, the best things are born out of the most unexpected moments."

From that moment, Charlene couldn't shake the feeling that destiny had intriguingly woven their lives together, setting in motion a tale of passion and possibilities. 

Before leaving, he leaned in closer, his breath warm against her ear, an intimate gesture that sent electric waves across her skin. "I have a feeling we'll meet again, Charlene." She could feel the sincerity in his words deep within, as if he spoke directly to her heart.

Then, in the blink of an eye, he vanished without a trace, leaving nothing behind.

Charlene's heart swelled with delight, a warm sensation spreading within her, while uncertainty clouded her mind with doubts and questions. However, the exhilarating thrill of the unknown outweighed all of her hesitations and fears, pushing her forward into the adventure that lay ahead.