13. Swan Lake
There was a contagious, brimming excitement in Colette’s eyes as she spied the moonlight dancing on the water. It filled me with such joy, washing away the arousal that had crept over me when I kneeled before her and touched her bare skin.
I couldn’t look away from her. We had conversed openly in ways I had but dreamed about. She was disarmingly intelligent, quick witted, and warm—yet she thought of herself in none of those ways. It made me want to convince her, made me want her to see herself as I did.
“It’s breathtaking,” she murmured, her eyes still on the lake.
But I couldn’t take my eyes off her. “Yes. You are,” I whispered.
Unfortunately, or rather, fortunately, she did not hear the second half of my reply. And she was startled by a wisp that flared to life beside us.
“Is that—” she began, her mouth stretched wide in surprise.
“A will-o’-the-wisp,” I answered with a grin. “They usually don’t come out this early, you’re in luck.”
“How do you know all of these things?”
Her question gave me pause and I wondered how much I should share. “What do you mean?”
“Your knowledge of this place … it’s very intimate,” she shrugged off the directness of her question.
“It needed to be, to serve well in the trials.”
Colette grinned at me. “I don’t think I did very well, but I’m okay with that.”
My brows rose high on my forehead. “You’re okay—with having failed?”
She nodded and her curls bobbed with the movement. “At first I was disappointed,” she sighed. “Prince August sounds wonderful, truly. But he deserves someone who is loyal to him, someone who hasn’t realized she has affections for another.”
“For another?” My breath caught in my chest.
Colette tilted her head to the side as we began walking the edge of the lake.
“It looks like it’s dancing,” she said, watching the edge of the water lap upon the shore.
“Should we dance, as well?” I just wanted to touch her, hold her even.
She smiled, and it was like the dawn breaking along the horizon. It seemed foolish that she had absolutely no idea what she was doing to me, but I felt myself being irrevocably changed by her.
“Promise not to trip me,” she smiled and lifted her free hand, swishing it back and forth.
I faced her at once, taking her hand in mine and bowing. “I promise.”
Colette giggled and looked around. “But there’s no music.”
“Listen to the willow,” I whispered.
She bit her lip, as she nodded, and I found myself wanting to free it. A hum slipped from my lips as I began singing the melody of one of my favorite pieces.
“I love that song,” she gushed, taking my hand and humming alongside me.
I pulled her flush against my body. It was as effortless as breathing, dancing with her, just as it had been that very first time, and during our trial.
She smiled and it crinkled the corner of her eyes.
“You’re a remarkable dancer,” I praised.
“As are you, Governor. It's a shame we didn’t win that trial.”
The will-o’-the-wisps blinked off and on over the lake, and a fragrant wind swept past us, throwing her hair behind her as we spun in circles. The moonlight caressed her face and I was immediately jealous of its touch.
“I must apologize again. That was entirely my fault.”
Colette shook her head. “It wasn’t entirely your fault. I could have prevented it, as well.”
She was breathtaking and yet it felt easier to breathe around her.
“How? I was the one who tripped you up?”
“Maybe … I let you trip me.”
As we hummed the song to an end I pulled her even closer, and she looked up into my eyes. I wanted to kiss her, and by the way her eyes flicked to my lips, she wanted to kiss me too.
I stroked my thumb across her bottom lip, the one she often bit down on when she was thinking, as my other arm went low around her back holding her to me.
We had done this three times before, and yet, my pulse raced and my blood heated in response like it had every time before. When her eyes fluttered closed, the spell wove around me, pulling me to her.
My lips lightly brushed hers and I knew, in that fleeting moment, that she was the one.
Her lips pressed against mine, her hand finding its way to the nape of my neck. I angled her face up allowing her lips to part and my tongue to sweep inside. She tasted of fresh berries, and sunrises, and of every second of my future.
I could finally tell her the truth.
As I pulled away, her eyes blinked open and she took a step back. “Julian,” she breathed, pressing a hand to her mouth.
“I need to tell you the truth,” I felt my skin begin to itch. “I am Prince August.”