15. Cora
Cora
Prince Jasper does not come to dinner in the great hall that evening. His absence only makes my nerves all the more unsteady.
My father does not make any excuses for him, and I do not ask.
I keep the conversation as light as possible and try not to think about how I can still feel the prince between my legs.
I can still see the pain in his face as he spoke about his brother.
I could be there for him in a way he needs, and I want to. Truly.
And his poor brother…
What does he mean by permanently changed? Changed in mind or body? Such things happen to people even when they do not fight in wars, and I would never expect him to abandon his brother simply because he had suffered…
Injuries, I suppose. He must have been tortured, if he was captured.
I cannot think of it for too long, otherwise it will show on my face.
I make a point of eating as normally as I can.
Something must be done tonight. I must speak with the man in the shadows tonight.
But if I appear to be ill, or tormented by a problem I will not speak about, the maidens will hover.
The entire castle is already aware that plans for me to be wed are proceeding at a faster pace than they ever have, though no formal offer has been made.
It’s up to me to settle this. It was my choice to complicate matters, and it brings me some relief that I am the only one who can settle them.
For now.
That’s why it must be tonight, I decide at dinner. If I’m pregnant—
I quickly push that thought away. I do not know yet if I am pregnant. I could just as easily not be pregnant, and then I will have worried myself for nothing. Tonight is not about a possible child, it is about my possible future and being honest with all involved about which path I will take.
If the prince will have me, once he knows everything.
I think he will.
I hope he will.
I am thinking about him when I hear my father mention the prince.
“What did you say, Father?”
He blinks at me, looking away from his conversation with a nobleman who has taken the prince’s seat at his right hand for this evening’s dinner. “Pardon me, Cora?”
“What did you say about the prince? I thought I heard—” I blush, hoping to seem like a young woman with a crush on a handsome man and not a woman hiding a secret lover and a secret encounter with said prince. “I thought I heard you mention him.”
“No, daughter. I was telling Sir Davin about Prince Nathaniel from one of the western kingdoms and the dilemma he’s caused.”
“My apologies, Father. I shouldn’t have interrupted. I’ll excuse myself now.”
The two men at the table stand when I do. I bow my head in respect and take my leave. Alice and Blanche are at my side as soon as I step out of the great hall.
“I’ll retire early tonight,” I say, and I see them exchange worried looks out of the corner of my eye. “I am well. I just need to rest.”
Judging by their expressions and lack of further questions, they don’t believe a word I’ve said. Not only am I a liar, I’m a poor liar.
They fuss over me for quite some time. It is truly too early to go to bed—the sun has not even come close to setting—but I need silence to be able to think. I let them help me change for bed, then pace in slow circles around my rooms.
I have plenty of time before the man in the shadows arrives. He will not come to me before the sun has set—I know that for sure.
It seems as though I pace forever. I cannot focus on a book long enough for the time to pass. I try to write letters, but those, too, will not stick in my mind long enough to finish one. I try a few sketches, but lose my sense of what I am attempting to draw.
The sun sets more slowly than I’ve ever seen it.
Afterward, the castle seems to take even longer to quiet. It seems as if they are trying to draw me out with this noise or that one, and I admit that I am tempted, several times, to go out into the halls and find out what has caused so much chatter.
But it is only my mind trying to distract me. I am sure it is simply everyone enjoying the longer days. There will be a festival for the solstice soon, and as it gets closer, people get into a lighter mood. Usually I am one of them, but this year, there are too many situations at hand.
Situations that I have created.
This is what it feels like to be in control of my life, I suppose. It is exhilarating at first, and a woman could become intoxicated by that feeling.
But there are always consequences. Even if you are a princess.
This time, I go to the balcony as soon as it is dark out and wait there. I will not go to my bed. I will not fall asleep.
I wait for him for quite some time, but then there are footsteps inside my rooms.
I go in to find him already there, in the far corner. The first question that springs to my mind is how did you get in here?
He could have walked in through the door. He could have known I would try to find him on the balcony and walked in from the hall.
Were there enough shadows to stay hidden?
These are not the questions that most need to be answered. The shock doesn’t last long. My heart races and I swallow thickly knowing what must be done.
When I take a step toward him, he retreats farther into the shadows. My heart aches. I do not wish to end things without ever knowing my lover’s name.
“Come closer,” I say, in my firmest tone although it still breaks. The agony of what must be done lingers in my chest. “I want to see your face.”
He does not move for several beats. I’m beginning to think he will not move at all when he takes one quiet step, then another, and then another, until he is standing in the low light from one of the sconces.
When he’s close enough my body tenses.
The man’s frame reminds me of the shadows in the night, but he has scars all down his face.
Burns that drag down his jawline. The left side of him…
They put him to the fire. His dark eyes look back at me and he parts his lips but doesn’t speak.
He clears his throat and takes a deep inhale, his broad chest rising.
Where Jasper is a knight in shining armor, this man is the dark knight who wears the damage of war.
I move toward him, my hand outreached, and he steps back.
“Don’t,” I say. “Stay. I want to see you.”
This time, when I move closer, he does not move away.
I take slow steps toward him until we are within arm’s reach of one another.
“Is this why you hide yourself?” I question. “Were you afraid I would see your scars?”
There is pain in his eyes, but he does not answer.
“You can talk to me,” I insist, and he turns around and heads for the door.
It surprises me—I did not think he would move so quickly. I rush to his side and grab his hand.
“Please, don’t leave. If you will not speak to me, then at least kiss me. Please. Please.”
He looks down at me, and I cannot describe how much more pain has come to his eyes. He looks wretched, which is how I feel. If he turns around and leaves me with nothing, disappearing from my life as if he had never been there at all, then I will be devastated.
“Please,” I whimper, my bottom lip trembling. “Don’t leave me,” I beg.
He moves a closer, then closer still, then slowly bends his face to mine.
The warmth of his forehead against mine is nothing compared to the heat of his body. He towers over me, still as could be, as if afraid to move.
He’s giving me time to change my mind, I realize. He is giving me time to decide that his face is not one I want to kiss. But he is the man in the shadows. I have felt his lips on me before, and his mouth, and none of that was changed by the scars on his face.
Slowly I reach up, my hands on the sides of his face. One rough with stubble, the other with scar. His left side has been sliced and the scar cuts through his brow. There’s not an angle in which he could hide the brutality.
Finally, his lips meet mine, and they are just the same as I remember. He kisses me softly, still giving me time to pull away or change my mind, but I don’t.
It takes a few moments, but at last he puts his arms around me and kisses me deeper. He tastes me as if he might never have the chance again, and I kiss him back as if there is no tomorrow and only now.
I’m breathless when he draws back, and he is as well. Surely he is one of the men we took in following the war. Someone who stays on guard at night. It all makes so much sense. No one would see him in the darkness.
I think he might kiss me again—even follow me into my bed—but he only gives my face a long look, kisses my forehead, and leaves. My hands drop to my side, and I’m left stunned and questioning everything.
There is no noise from the guards in the hall. He must know a way to stay hidden, because no one raises an alarm. No one does anything at all. The hallway stays quiet, and so does my balcony.
I wait for him for a long while, hoping he will come back. Hoping he will give me another chance to speak to him, or even to hold his hand. I would invite him into my bed, if I could.
But he does not return, and eventually I fall asleep with an aching loneliness where my heart should be.