15. Amelie
Amelie
T he same pain, black void and weight ruled over my body.
More than the first time, a little less than the last. I felt the gentle press of a hand against my cheek as the darkness was swallowed by candlelight.
Kiaran’s chiseled, stubbled jaw and clear blue eyes came into view. My head was resting in his lap.
There was no panic in his eyes or fear in his bones, he was calm. He was breathing evenly as he stared at something in the kitchen with a twinkle in his eyes.
I wasn’t really mad at him anymore. I was only embarrassed by it all.
The moment felt so special, I’d never voiced what had happened to me.
It didn’t feel necessary to do so back home because it was happening to all the women.
None of us were special in that regard. If we shared the depravities of what the guards had done to us, it would be the saddest meeting of the minds the world had ever seen.
So, we just kept our heads down, mouths shut, and went about our lives as if any of it was okay.
That dream had always stuck with me because it was the first time I felt like sex wasn’t how it had been when it was forced upon me. The mornings I woke up from that dream, I always felt a little shimmer of hope that maybe someday I would experience love the way I dreamed of it.
Kiaran’s initial reaction showed me he agreed, that he knew it was wrong. He comforted me, kissed my body, and made me feel safe. For the first time in my life, I’d asked for more instead of begging for it to stop. Him leaving me made me feel like I wasn’t allowed to ask for it.
His gentle hand began drawing lazy circles around my temple, easing the pain in my head that he didn’t know I had.
I sighed into his touch, surrendering my embarrassment to linger in his affection.
“Hi, pretty girl,” he whispered as his lips stretched into a sloppy grin.
“Hi, magic man,” I replied, leaning into his touch.
“Feeling okay?” His words slurred a bit, which piqued my attention.
A deep inhale sent me spiraling back to Holleberg for a moment. The smell of alcohol was heavy in Kiaran’s hot breath.
My brows pinched together, realizing that Kiaran was drunk. “Yeah, are you?”
“I feel great. C’mon I wanna show you something.”
Oh yeah. He was drunk.
He lifted my head so he could stand, then scooped me up like a baby to carry me to the kitchen.
Kiaran was smiling with pride as he walked us to the table, setting me down at a place setting that was surrounded by candles.
Taking a look behind me, the cabinets were covered by huge arrangements of red roses and white water lilies, both of my favorites.
Music played softly from somewhere in the house, but there was no music box in sight.
It was a romantic tune that made my skin tingle to think of Kiaran choosing it for us.
Kiaran took the seat next to me at his own place setting, and before us, a huge piece of steak along with creamy mashed potatoes appeared.
“What d’ya think?” Kiaran slurred. His midnight-black hair was mussed, like he’d been running his fingers through it. One curl fell onto his face contrasting against his glossy blue eyes.
“Are you drunk?” I blurted, already knowing the answer.
Kiaran let out a heavy breath and scrunched up his nose. “It turns out the ale the Souls make at their camp is really fucking strong.”
My father drank sometimes. Lord Bosque kept alcohol mostly for his men, but some of the rowdier villagers would brew their own and get together in secret. When he did partake in the illegal activity, he was always so fun and full of life with the weight of our misfortune masked.
“Is this supposed to be a date?” I gestured to the romantic ambiance.
“Yeah?” He sounded unsure if that was the right answer.
“And you thought being drunk on our first date was a good idea?”
Kiaran’s face was blank, likely trying to find words that would be easiest not to slur.
“I’m so fucking bad at this,” was what he came up with.
I couldn’t help but laugh. The gesture was so sweet, and if he wasn’t drunk right now I would’ve already pounced on him, not caring if he rejected me again. I’d never been on a date, but it didn’t take an experienced woman to know that you don’t show up drunk.
“Ya’ think?” I cut through my steak like it was butter and savored the taste of it in my mouth.
“If I wasn’t drunk right now, would you be impressed?” Boyish, heavy eyes stared at me. He hadn’t touched his food. His sole focus was on me and watching me pop the meat into my mouth .
God, Fern was an excellent cook.
Making him sweat it out a bit, I shoved some potatoes in with the last bite and took my time swallowing. His fingers began strumming the table, a tick I learned he does when he’s nervous.
The man who introduced himself the first week I was here was so far from the one in front of me now.
The one hoping he’d impressed me. Quickly after that first night, he shifted into a broody, awkward mess.
I secretly hoped that was the effect I had on him, because he looked adorable as he tried to patiently wait for my answer.
“I’m impressed either way. Fern did an excellent job.” I ribbed him. Finishing my food, I stood and wrapped the wooden pillar by the front door in a dramatic hug.
“Thank you for the flowers and dinner Fern. It was lovely. Maybe next time, you could add in sober company?”
Kiaran’s face turned from sheepish to frustrated quickly as he rose his defenses. “This was my idea. Fern helped me arrange the flowers, but I picked them on my way back. Not to mention dinner and music, I chose those too.”
I tried to hold back a laugh, it was too fun to antagonize him..
Letting go of Fern and starting for my bedroom, Kiaran stopped me at the end of the table.
He grabbed my wrist and spun me to face him. His gait was unsteady, but he was focused on my face. Looking back and forth from my eyes to my lips.
“Are you still mad at me?”
“Yup,” I lied.
“Well, can you stop being mad at me?”
“Maybe.”
He thought on that for a second before deciding that he should speak again.
“Should I kiss you right now?”
“No. ”
“No?”
“No.”
Kiaran was taken aback by my proclamation. His brows bunched together and his bloodshot blue eyes were locked on mine.
“So, don’t kiss you then?”
“That’s right, don’t kiss me.”
“Is this a trick?”
The laugh that rippled out of me was so loud that the Forest was likely tuned in to it. My head fell forward into his chest as I tried to catch my breath. My laugh took all the air from my lungs.
“No, this isn’t a trick.” I leaned back just enough to look up at his beautifully drunken face. His cheeks were flushed and a few of his midnight-black curls were falling into his face. His lips twisted together in confusion, but an effortless smile still rested on his mouth.
“You rejected me because it wasn’t the right moment ,” I mocked. “I’m sure sober you would agree that this isn’t the right moment, either.”
I reached for his hand that was still wrapped around my wrist and laced our fingers together. Bringing our hands to my heart and closing the space between us, I rested my head on his chest.
“I’m glad you had fun tonight.”
Kiaran stroked a hand down to the small of my back, tangling the other in my long waves.
“And thank you for the almost date.”
“I’m going to kiss you next time. I swear to your God, I won’t fuck it up again.”
Breaking the embrace, I finished the walk to my room but turned slightly when I got to my door. “Third time’s the charm.” I winked at him and got a drunken eye roll and lazy smile in return.
A soft beam of sunlight warmed my cheek in the same familiar way it had since my first morning in the cottage. The quiet, peaceful setting Fern always kept for us, however, did not accompany my usual princess like awakening.
Outside my bedroom door, it sounded like someone was practicing sprints across the wooden floors but instead of stopping when they reached a wall, they ran right into it. Oh, and the person was wearing clogs for sure because how the fuck else could someone make that much noise?
Peeling myself off the luxurious down pillow and forcing the warm quilt off my body, I staggered to my door to inspect who was ruining my ritualistic, dreamy morning.
Twisting the knob and pulling the door open, I was met with a scene that would forever stay in the part of my brain marked as What the Fuck is Going On?
Kiaran was racing around the kitchen like a chicken with his head cut off. He had a blue checkered apron hung around his neck, tied securely around his waist. Flour was caked across his forehead and some sort of batter was spilled over his mouth.
I stared at his back while his elbow worked furiously to stir whatever was in front of him. He was singing to himself, an upbeat song I’d never heard before.
The week is over, work is done
So now it’s time to have some fun
The place is old and there’s money owed
Tonight forget that heavy load
His voice was deep and raspy but beautiful. A siren if I’d ever heard one because I’d apparently walked to him and was now standing on his left.
“Amelie!” He startled at my presence .
“Mornin’.” I rolled my lips together to contain my smile. “What’s all this?”
“We have guests coming tonight, I wanted to make sure everything was perfect,” Kiaran replied with a dash of shyness and a splash of anxiety in his voice.
“Trying to impress Ethel, huh?” I stuck my finger in the batter and took a taste.
Oh my fucking God. Vanilla buttercream frosting. I’d know the taste anywhere. It was on one of the pastries I’d swiped from the merchant cart for the boys. It was a lot sweeter now though, knowing I wouldn’t be punished for taking some.
Kiaran had stopped stirring to watch me relish in the taste of his frosting, his gaze lingered long enough to break goosebumps out across my arms and send a tingle up my spine.
“Ethel? No. Al asked if he and the guys could join us for dinner tonight,” he said, returning to his baking duties.