The Exiled Huntress

Chapter 8

She was starting to regret it.

It started that morning when Charles' mother went into her room and threw open the curtains, "Oh Rue!" she had exclaimed, "Wake up! We have a long day ahead of us, especially with the wedding so near. I already prepared us breakfast."

The older woman barely let her morning meal before she had pulled her off her chair and dragging her off to get her body measured.

"Oh sweetie, these flowers would absolutely gorgeous with the dress," Grace, Charles's mother said, holding up a bundle of pink flowers to her auburn hair. Rümvo's cheeks flushed, earning a squeal from the older woman.

Charles's mother was strange, a bundle of energy that seemed to bounce about despite her age. Pleasantly plump with a wild mane of red brown curls, it was easy to see where Charles had obtained the trait. A light spray of freckles faded across her pale skin, wrinkles making a light path at the edge of her gray blue eyes. Her own heart fluttering at the forgotten parental affection she had once received from her father and was now receiving from Charles's mother.

"Mrs. Miles," Rümvo murmured, as she watched the woman measured her arms before measuring her waist.

The woman chuckled, "Oh sweetie, no need to be so formal. We're going to be in laws. Just call me Grace, or even better, call me Mama."

Rümvo's lips parted, before closing them, "Grace," she murmured as Grace looked up, her blue eyes twinkling, "What is it child? Are you nervous?"

Rümvo couldn't find the words to speak but she only nodded. Grace smiled and gently pinched her cheek, "It's okay sweetie. I was nervous on my big day too. When I married my husband, Frank, I was a bundle of nerves." Grace turned and wandered towards a small wooden box, opening the tiny latch, revealing a thin necklace that rested against the black velvet. A soft sigh escaped Grace's lips as she raised the necklace, the silver chain glinting against the sunlight that filtered through but what caught her eye was blue tear drop. "My mother gave me this one my wedding day. It had been passed down to her by my grandmother and my great grandmother before her." Grace's eyes twinkled, "Now I want you to have it."

Rümvo swallowed as Grace placed the necklace around her neck, rising on her tippy toes to reach the tall young woman. When their eyes met once more, Grace's eyes glittered with unshed tears.

"Mom," Charles said from the doorway, his lean body leaning against the door frame. Grace turned and wiped away her tears. Charles walked over and pulled his mother into an embrace, "What's wrong?" The woman smiled,"Nothing sweetie, I'm just going to get something to drink, okay?"

Charles nodded as he watched his mother leave before his sapphire eyes landed on Rümvo's.

Rümvo felt her cheeks flush as Charles walked further in, his tall frame emanating heat as he got nearer. She parted her lips as if to speak but was silenced when Charles reached out to stroke the flowers that had been braided into her hair, gently adjusting a few, "You look beautiful," he murmured, "Like the goddess of spring, innocent and in full bloom."

Their eyes never strayed and for that moment, they moved close, Charles's fingers drifting over her cheek, his thumb brushing her parted lips.

She could smell the earth on him, the musky scent of masculinity and a brief touch of sweet caramel.

"Charles," she whispered, unable to describe the stirring within her belly. The young man said nothing as he pressed his lips against hers, hands gently cupping the back of her neck.

It was hesitant at first, a soft peck before he pressed further.

And for some strange reason, she didn't hesitate.

A/N:
It's been awhile, and in a twisted turn of events, I have met the real life Charles... He just so happens to be my coworker.