Mortal Fantasy

✴｜chapter nine

I sit on the balcony, pondering the best options for escape, before a sharp rapping upon the door draws me back inside.

"Adlyn?" I say, slightly flustered. "Have you any idea who it might be?"

The young maid looks up from the pillow that she is fluffing and shakes her head with a small expression of apology. "But I'll go right away..."

"That's alright, I'll see to it," I assure her, and move briskly for the door. Who is it this late at night?

I open the door and my entire body stills.

"Don't be surprised," Prince Stephen warns me, though I have failed to heed him. I've never seen him dressed like this—though I can't say I've seen him often. Instead of his deep blue overcoat and argentate epaulettes, this time he wears a loose admiral vest over a plain shirt, black boots glinting on his feet, his palms and wrists wrapped in bandages. He studies my expression, leaning one shoulder against the doorframe, and the edge of his mouth twitches. "It's fencing attire. Not that I would expect you to understand."

Adlyn is right, he's... unnervingly attractive. I take caution to keep those words in my mouth, however—that doesn't absolve the golden bloods of their sins, or my contempt for them. "I think I'm capable of understanding the concept, Your Highness. Fencing is a sport in which you poke blades at one another."

"It requires a vast amount of skill and reflex, to poke those blades at one another," Stephen says, before pushing off the doorframe and looking past me. "Tell your maid that we're going for a midnight stroll."

"Wha—"

"Do you want to get out of here?" he presses, his fiery eyes curious, and suddenly I can't deny my urge to escape the confinement of my room, wonderful as it is, and explore the rest of the palace.

Lips tightening, I turn to Adlyn, prepared to inform her, but I am caught off-guard by her starry-eyed appearance.

"Good evening to you too," Stephen greets her, and I register that while he displays his dark sarcasm and charisma, he has genuine charm as well. "I'm borrowing your lady for the night."

I snap up. For the night—

"Of course, Your Highness," Adlyn flushes, bowing and absolutely oblivious to the prince's implication. "Please feel free to wake me when Ith—Miss Ithena returns."

With that Stephen turns and begins walking down the corridor, craning back to look at me. "Coming or not, Avonstef?"

I suppress a furious blush as I step out of the room and pace after him, wondering why the heat chooses to stay in my face. "Of course."

A/N

I would say I smell some romance, but Ithena is denying it furiously. I won't say too much for now... (That girl has a knife, okay, I'm not crossing her.)

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Until next time,

Icelynn :3