The Rise of Women

A Kiss on Your Lips

His lips were soft against mine, pliable. Yet there was a strength behind them that I knew all too well. He has, and always will, be there for me. Protect me. A hand slipped behind my head and look the diamond encrusted clip out of my hair, auburn waves falling down passed my shoulders. I moaned his name. This man, this angel of mine, will be the death of me.

Slowly, I wrapped my hands around his neck. He didn't need anymore encouragement. He lifted me up, hands grasping my thighs, and laid me down on the purple silk sheets. We parted for breathe, and he laughed, a joyous, wonderful noise that filled my heart with happiness.

"Do you have any idea how much I crave you? All I think about, every single hour of every single day is when I can kiss your lips again, feel your arms around me."

I smiled, mischievously.

"Is this while your are serving my mother? That is very unsettling," I said.

He growled. "Minx."

A rapping sounded on my door, before I could respond.

"Yes?" I questioned, annoyed.

"My lady, I believe I have a parcel for you by a Mister Dublant," Marshall called.

I took a quick breath, Dublant.

"Leave it," I snapped. He did as told.

My angel sighed, as did I. Always interrupted.

"Should I be worried about competition?" He asked, both jokingly and seriously at the same time.

I kept quiet. Did I love Dublant? No. Was I to be betrothed to him if I did not bear children? Yes. Dublant had three little girls; he was a widower. I needed an heir to the throne, and if I could not, for some reason or another, bear children, then I was to adopt his family as my own and continue my legacy.

I spoke carefully. "My love, no one can compare to you. You own my heart."

He seemed satisfied with that answer, and let the subject go.

"Well why don't you open it?"

I pondered this. Yes, I suppose I could.

I went over to the door, and picked up the package. The box was wrapped in what looked like card stock, with a black shoelace as a makeshift bow. Although the Dublants had money, they never wasted. Saving for a rainy day, he once said. As I untied the makeshift ornament and unwrapped the fairly heavy box, I gasped. Red liquid dripped out of the box and tap tap tapped on the wooden floor. Not the color of wine, no - like the color of blood.