I feel a soft touch grazing my cheek, gently pulling me to the surface of my slumber. It is as if he is memorizing my freckles with the way his fingers lingered, tracing soft, slow circles over my skin, his touch sending electric shivers down my spine. He gently peels my hair back, away from my face and exposing my neck. I fought to stay still as the cold air brushes through my skin, completely exposed to his eyes. I can feel it without even seeing, the way he is taking me in, like I'm the final piece in a game he has already won.
Where am I?
Oh, right. Suddenly I am reminded of all the things that had happened before I passed out. The prison, the rescue, the dragon, his brother, the healers, him. I open my eyes to find him sitting on the edge of the bed, looking at me with innocent eyes. As if he hadn't just set fire into my skin.
"You're awake," he pointed out, stroking my hair. "Are you feeling much better now?"
There is just something about him that I can't fully trust, yet. He's keeping something from me, my instinct tells me that much. But it's not like I can tell him that as well, seeing as I'm still under his care.
"Better," I replied him, surprised that my voice sounds as clear as the river streams. The coarseness of my throat, gone.
"Good," he said, his hand rubbing lazy circles on my shoulder. "Tilda is the best healer in the land."
"How long was I out?" I asked him, moving away from his touch as I pull myself up and lean against the soft headboard. I can't seem to concentrate with him constantly touching me like that.
"A few hours," he replied, his hand had fallen into my lap now, thankfully covered by the duvet. He can't seem to stop touching me, but I can't seem to tell him to stop. There is just something about it that feels so soothingly hypnotizing. Especially with the top of his white shirt, unbuttoned, his dark hair disheveled as his gaze is taking me in, my chest starts to ache at how handsome he looks. "I trust you're well enough to join me for dinner?"
Before I could answer, my stomach let out a loud grumble, making him chuckle. "Well then, I'll take that as a yes," he laughed, his dimples flashing on display, making my stomach flip from the sight. Snaking his hand around my back, while the other underneath my legs, he lifted me bridal-style out of the bed.
I wanted to protest, but he had already carried us through the doors leading to the terrace. My eyes had already began wandering through the beautiful place, making me wonder if I spend most of my time here. With the full moon looming above us, so large and clear, lighting up the night sky surrounded by stars. We must've been so high up, with the cold winds blowing past us as he carried me to the table, practically ushering us to our seats.
He drapes a large navy coat around my shoulders, with golden patterns beautifully-weaved around the collar before he takes a seat right across from me. Having been confined in darkness for days without memories, it truly feels like I'm seeing it all for the first time. It's an odd feeling to have as an adult, this kind of child-like wander.
"Thank you, Vesper," I told him, just realizing that I actually haven't said so, "for everything.
Between us the table had been laid out so beautifully. Filled with mouth-watering food, from sweets to savories, I can't help but feel a drool forming in my mouth. A candelabra stands on the side, with a bouquet of pink carnations, my favorite. I didn't know how I know that, but the thought just burst out of me. I smile to myself, filled with hope that maybe I'm slowly remembering things.
"You don't have to thank me," he replied, cutting up some pieces of chicken, I noticed, and place it on the empty plate right in front of me. "I'm your husband, it's my duty to protect you."
I nod silently in reply, my eyes already focusing on the food laid out right in front of me. Picking the pieces of chicken, I dip it in a red sauce and eat it. Within minutes my plate was full, filled with the things I've picked and the things he placed. He's certainly used to getting his way, it seems, with the way he's running things so far.
"How do you like the food?" he asked, looking at me curiously, pouring red wine into our glasses. "I've asked the cook to specifically prepare all your favorites."
"Amazing." I murmured with awe, taking a break from chewing by taking a sip out of the red vintage. Even this tastes amazing. How had he managed to do this in such little time?
"Good, you need to eat some more." he said, putting more things into my plate.
"Vesper, you should have some of these yourself," I told him, placing some on his plate. "I don't think I can finish it all."
"You have not eaten in days, Iris," he stated, his voice tinged with concern. "One more day there and you would've died. A body can only survive so far without food."
Placing my utensils down, I look up at him questioningly, annoyance flaring within. "But I didn't, thanks to you. You don't have to feel guilty about this. I was this close to making it out anyway."
"What, with your piece of rusted metal? I found it in your dress and threw it away, by the way, when you passed out from exhaustion."
I scoffed and rolled my eyes, picking up my utensils again to continue eating because despite everything, I'm still hungry. And he was right. I hate that he was right. A piece of rusted metal might have given me hope that I'd make it out of that prison cell, but with the way my body had been barely functioning without food, clean water and the wounds that were too many to count, I would've died from natural causes long before I ever got the real chance to escape. Not to mention the countless of guards stationed outside.
"What did you remember?" he asked, finally filling up his plate and taking a few bites.
"Your voice, calling out my name." I confessed, taking another sip out of my wine, the alcohol making my words flow more smoothly out of my lips, "That's the only thing I remember. I don't think I would've even know my name if your voice hadn't haunted my dreams."
"What did I say?" he asked, his eyes glinting with hope as he watches me intensely. I didn't think he realized that out of all the things I could've remembered, it would be him. Have I hurt him deeply in the past?
"Nothing much," I replied, looking down at my food, recalling the nightmare. "You called out for me, but your voice echoed, like you're in a cave or something."
"I had a seer searching out for you," he shared, "her spell must've actually reached you."
"'Had'?"
"I killed her." he said it so casually that for a moment, I thought I misheard. But I hadn't. The realization make my stomach twist. Someone had died because of me.
"She betrayed me," he explained, unfazed by my silence. "She knew where you were all this time. I had to torture it out of her."
"Vesper..."
"Did I say something wrong?" he asked, his voice low.
"No," I shake my head, stabbing the piece of meat and slipping it into my mouth. I tell myself that he's doing this for my safety. That the seer had committed a crime and was punished in a way that's reasonable for traitors. But why can't I shake away this feeling of guilt and unease?
"I can tell that her death had bothered you."
"I don't want anyone to die because of me." I confessed.
His expression softened at that, as if he were empathizing with my feelings, but I know it's not that. If I hadn't truly known him before I lost my memories, I wouldn't have picked up on this. My instincts tell me that he's simply reminded of who I used to be. Maybe I really was this kind and innocent before we married.
"It's a reasonable punishment for traitors, Iris," he explained, placing a slice of chocolate cake on my plate, "she did this to herself. You had nothing to do with it."
"I know, but I can't help but be bothered by this."
"What's done is done."
Suddenly cold, I pull his coat tighter around my body. His familiar scent of pines wrapping comfortably around my body, over my nightgown. His lips thinned when he sees me.
"You can trust me, Iris." he said, his voice soft as if he is whispering a secret only meant for me. "You're my wife, you're under my protection. Whoever hurt you will pay for it."
"What happened? The day I disappear." I asked once I take the last bite out of my chocolate cake.
"I was away, celebrating with my men after a successful battle." he explained, leaning back to his seat and taking a sip out of his wine. The color is starting to remind me of blood. "We had just conquered a kingdom not far from here, until I received news that you had gone missing."
I was about to ask him to continue until he did so himself. Leaning forward, he places his empty glass on the table to pour some more from the bottle. He had barely eaten and it's starting to worry me. "I flew home with Vala, only to find out that my brother was the one who had let you out. He was the one who encouraged you to leave me while you can."
"Alistair?"
"Yes," he curtly replied, his gaze darkening. The name hung in the air like a prisoner waiting to be hanged. His jaw clenched as he stared past me, into somewhere far and ugly. The silent between us is starting to thicken.
"It's not his fault." I argued, weakly.
His eyebrows shot up like I'd just said something so ridiculous. It made me want to cower from embarrassment from saying something so incredulous to him, but I forced myself to stand my ground. "He's your brother," I bit out, each words biting cold.
He sneered, though his eyes stayed locked on mine, hollow. "If he was truly my brother," he said, each word sharp as a blade, "he wouldn't have put you in danger, knowing how much you mean to me."
"He apologized."
"If you think that's sincere, then you've truly lost your touch." he replied without even looking up, cutting his meat and bringing it into his lips.
My eyes narrowed at his words, a pang of hurt spreading in my chest, fueling the fire that's already simmering within my blood. I can't believe what I've just heard. "Did you just patronize me?"
He drops his utensils with practiced ease, fitting for a gentleman of his station. He levels my glare, though his was filled with nothing but exasperation. I clenched the knife in my hand, trying to curb the urge to throw the steak knife into his perfectly-sculpted nose.
"If you're going to throw it, you might as well," he challenged, tipping his head towards the knife I'm clutching, "who knows when you'll have the chance again?"
"How are we even married?" I asked, my voice sharp with frustration. "It's barely a day and we've already fought over a small single, fucking thing."
"Easy," he said, his sarcasm dropping from every word. "I proposed, you accepted, then we made it official in the temple, right in front of the priest."
"You know what, I'm done for the night." I told him, pushing back my chair, its legs scraping against the floor louder than I intended. I didn't bother looking at him as I drape his coat onto the back of the chair before making my way back inside, all while trying not to visibly shiver from the cold.
"Where do you think you're going?" he demanded.
"To bed." I shot back.
"Our bed, you mean?"
I stop dead in my tracks, but before I could truly react to that, he was already somehow standing right in front of me, blocking my path. My eyes widened with realization. I shouldn't have been surprised. How could I not expected this? Maybe I truly have lost my touch.
"Did you really think we'd sleep in separate beds? Separate rooms?" he asked, as if the notion itself is ridiculous. He moved closer though, surprising me when he drape his coat right around my shoulders, his fingers brushing the fabric as he buttoned the top two buttons. "We're married, Iris. It's not in my family's custom for married couples to sleep in separate beds, let alone separate rooms."
I feel the air shifting around us, charged with something I can't quite name. Maybe it's the way he looks under the moonlight, hauntingly beautiful, like one of those dark princes from fairytales. The kind that would steal the girl away in the dead of night. Dangerous, yet impossibly enticing.
"I don't even remember you," I hissed, feeling the shivers running down my spine despite his coat shielding me from the crisp night air. "This could all be a lie, for all I know," I added, my arms spreading wide in a defiant gesture towards our surroundings.
Our eyes meet and for a moment, the world seemed to shrink. The faintest smile tugged at the corner of his lips. I wasn't sure if he had taken my words seriously, or if he's just challenging me to go further.
"Do you think I care?" he taunted, closing every bit of space between us. He seized my chin, his grip tight and unyielding as he pulled me closer to him. Our bodies touch, I could feel it through all the layers. "It doesn't change the fact that you're still my wife."
With his head pressed against mine, my hands clutching at his wrists, his eyes closed as if my touch is causing him pain. Our lips were only inches apart, and I could feel the warmth of his breath against my skin. I couldn't speak, couldn't think with him being so close. He had emptied me out of my thoughts and replaced it with him. Only him.
"I'm scared," I confessed, my voice barely audible but it's the most honest words I've uttered.
He opens his eyes, gazing down at me with surprise and...something I wouldn't dare to name. But I have a feeling that I've been the receiving end of that look many times. Still, it never lost its affect on me.
"I will never willingly hurt you, Iris." he declared it as if it was the most natural thing to say. "I would rather die before I do."
Unable to bear the tension any longer, I close what's left of the distance between us and press my lips to his. It was soft and hesitant at first, as if he couldn't believe what just happened. But then he exhales sharply through his nose, wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me close like he's drowning, and I'm the only air he has ever known. Our lips, moving against each other with a hunger that steals my breath away.
Every thought, every defense I've ever built, he destroyed it all with the weight of his kiss. The way his fingers tangle in my hair, gripping the back of my head and tilting my face to take more out of me, as if what we already shared isn't enough. As if we're not close enough, not lost enough in each other.
A deep, aching pull twists in my chest, sharp and relentless like a dagger stabbing through my heart. A storm is raging inside me when he lifts me like I weigh nothing. Instinctively I wrap my legs around his waist, my hands threading behind his neck as our lips crash again, fierce and unyielding. It's far too late to pull away now, I've surrendered. And truthfully, I don't think I ever want him to let me go.
I didn't even realized he had already walked us in until I was tilt backwards to the point I feel soft cushions against my back. I relax, our clothes suddenly feel heavy between us, suddenly desperate to feel the warmth of his skin against mine. My head is starting to throb just as he lays on top of me, both his elbows caging me in. The pain was so sudden and potent, I shut my eyes and wince as a flash of memory started to play before me.
The wind slowly cooled the sweat clinging to our skin as we try to capture back our breaths. I turned onto my side to face him, watching him with quiet curiosity as his eyes gazed up the night sky, deep in thought. It always feels like coming back down to the ground after a magical flight around the kingdom with Vala. There is always this calm sobriety that settled between us right after our lovemaking. I couldn't help but wonder now, what he could possibly be thinking about, now that his mind is no longer fogged up by his desire.
I reached up, about to run my fingers through his soft black hair when he stood, completely bare and unbothered by his nudity as he walked into our bedroom. He returned moments later with the blanket I usually curled up in during the day, and gently draped it over me. If there's one thing he truly enjoys, it's taking care of me.
"What are you thinking about?" I finally asked, as he slowly pulled me into a stand. He knew how much I couldn't really stand the cold.
Catching the way my knees quivered after what we just did, still a little disoriented, he flashed me a knowing grin that showcased his dimples. I reached up my finger and tap it, loving the way it made him blush. Me, a simple woman, making the King, known to be cruel among his subjects, blush.
"Let's get you inside first, I don't want you to freeze." he told me, gathering the clothes we discarded on the floor. After all these years, it still surprises me that he is unfazed by the cold. Our room is literally situated on the highest floor, not only for our safety but also it's the easiest way his dragon, Vala, could come up to us without scaring his subjects, or his soldiers.
"I have to leave soon," he said as soon as we reached inside, placing the clothes on the sofa by the fire before closing the door leading to the terrace.
"How soon?"
"Tomorrow." he said it like a death sentence.
Normally I'm used to this, with him leaving for weeks, sometimes months on end, off to conquer another stretch of land that his parents used to own and more. It was always his dream to spread his kingdom, make it a great one just like his forefathers did. But there's something in the way he said it this time, that made me worry.
"What's wrong?" I asked, feeling my heart starting to pound increasingly loudly, threatening to plunge into the abyss. "You don't seem confident like you used to."
"I don't have a good feeling about this, it's too soon." he confessed, walking up to me, his hands going to my neck, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles on my cheeks. "But if I don't do it now, I fear we might not have another chance."
With the way he is looking at me, as if he is memorizing me for the last time, it unnerved me. I don't like it. "Then don't go." I urged.
"It's now or never, Iris," he said, his voice low and thick with worry. "We may never get the chance to claim that land again."
"Is it that important to you?" I pressed, moving away from his hold and crossing my hands, causing his hands to fall to his sides.
"Yes, it is." he declared, as if it was final. As if I didn't matter. "It's my birthright, Iris. This is my duty, what I was born for. You know this when you married me."
"Surely there's a better way to do this. Blood does not have to be shed." I argued, crossing the distance to take his hands, only to be surprised that it was cold. "We could try to negotiate."
"I don't want just a part of that land," he said flatly, determined. "I want to own it."
"What about me?" I demanded, my grip on his hand tightening like vice. He didn't even flinch. His eyebrows just drew together in confusion. It hurts me to hurt him but by god, how I want to. For someone so powerful, he could be so fucking blind.
"Have you ever even consider what would happen to me, if you didn't make it back from one of your precious battles?"
"I don't lose." he said with barely a breath. He wasn't even sure if he could make it this time.
"Are you serious? That's your fucking answer?" I spat, chin high, voice shaking with fury. My hands curled into fists, merely a second away from slapping the shit out of this man.
He leaned in, eyes narrowing. "What do you want me to say?"
If I wasn't so mad, I would've kissed him senseless right now, and I hated it. I hate what he's doing this to me. I was strong. He made me weak. But I blinked away the tears that threatened to fall, and the nausea that threatened to rise. I gathered my wits and glared at my husband as I finally admit, "I'm pregnant."
Time stopped. He froze, stunned to silence like I've struck him. I witnessed it all, the way his eyes had widened with realization at what this would mean. The horror in his eyes, when he took a step back. Just one step. Not a word, nor a fucking breath. Just a single step that made me wonder if it was out of fear or of disgust. It didn't matter. It had already felt like he had sliced his blade right through me and twisted. The chasm has truly cracked between us.
Pulling the blanket protectively around myself, I brushed past him. He didn't even try to stop me, despite how desperate I wished him to. Didn't even reach out, or said anything. He just stood there, still as a statue, like a fool.
I barely made it into the bathroom when I let the blanket fall behind me. I didn't care if I was naked. I can't hold it in any longer. Gripping the edge of the basin, I bent over and retched.
Without warning, I suddenly struggle to catch my breath, like a rubber band snapping the back of my mind. The earlier pain in my head has reduced into a dull ache as I was suddenly jolted back to the present. It's like being suddenly plunged into cold water, the way my eyes had widened in shock and confusion, and yet not seeing anything but a foggy blur. I inhale as much air as I possibly can, gripping the hands that cradled me.
I close my eyes, not even realizing that my cheeks are wet from the tears I've cried until I feel hands rubbing them away. With my head still spinning, I lean against a hard chest, letting that familiar scent of fresh pines soothe my nerves. Feeling the calm pounding of a heart beating against my temple, I try to adjust mine to beat in sync with it.
Only when I feel our heartbeats finally aligning that I dared myself to open my eyes again and this time, my vision is clear, as if I've surface from underwater. I am sitting on his lap, facing the same fireplace I've seen in my earlier vision. Or was it a piece of my memory?
"Are you okay?" he asked, lovingly stroking my hair while I watch the flames dance. Somehow I have a distinct feeling he loves doing this, especially knowing how much it calms me. This time, though, there's a sinking feeling in my gut that made me want to tear myself away from this man.
"What did you see?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper.
Lifting my head from his chest, I turn to find him eyeing me curiously, though there is something else lurking beneath it. Fear. I see it the way his dark eyes searches for mine, in the way his arms stay locked around me, holding me close like I might run if he lets me go. There must be something in my memories that make him fear that I'll remember. Something that I could turn against him for.
So I forced a smile, hoping that he would be too relieved to notice that it didn't reach my eyes. "A happy memory. Us, kissing under the moonlight, like just now."
He studies my face, causing my breath to catch. I wrap my arms around his neck, pressing my lips to his cheek. Only then did I see him visibly relax, his shoulders slowly hunching back down. "You were right," I whispered into his ear, "we were really in love, weren't we?"
"So you believe me now?" he asked, still disbelieving.
I smiled, a real one this time. Sliding my leg over to his other side, I straddled him, slow and deliberate. I could already feel his desire stirring beneath me, large and prominent.
"Now I do."
"Have I told you how beautiful you are?" he murmured, his dark eyes hooded with lust. And love.
I tried to ignore the ache blooming in my chest as his fingers traced my cheek. Does he actually believe me? Or is he just pretending, same as I am?
I guided his hand to my lips, pressing a soft kiss to the inside of his wrist, right where it could kill. I never break his eye contact even though I want to. With the way he is gazing up at me right now...
"Are you sure about this?" he asked, his voice low.
"Yes," I breathed out. "I need you."
He nodded reverently, gazing up at me like a man in worship as I unbuttoned his jacket and let it fall behind me. Revealing my nightgown, soft and sheer, clinging to me in the firelight. I didn't wear anything underneath.
"I love you." he confessed like a sinner seeking for repentance.
So I leaned in and kissed him, slow and deep. His mouth tasted like need. Like a distant memory. Like a lie I wasn't ready to unravel...but a game I fully intended to play.
It could be worse. So much worse.
At least he's not some stranger claiming to be my husband. At least now, I know he's really mine. Especially with the way he dragged my nightgown from my shoulders and set his mouth on my skin, hungry, urgent and familiar.
I could let myself enjoy this, for now. Because whatever game he is playing. Whatever secrets he is keeping from me, two can play this game.