Midnight

Chapter 25 Of Confessions and Yearning #2

“You look like you might be sick. I swear I planned on confessing in a more charming and well-thought-out romantic setting. We were going to get the flower, save Brielle, and then I was going to come clean. You would have time to- I don’t know, just time, I suppose.

But just now, when you pulled away, I couldn’t take it.

I couldn’t pretend any longer. It’s killing me. ”

Once Luci’s mind was able to work through problems and was efficient in its functioning. Now it was as fixated as Calcifer when he knew it was lunch time, but no lunch appeared. She was incapable of coherent thought.

“Please say something, anything,” Ira begged.

Yes, words. She could say words.

“Brielle told you,” she said.

Ira blew out a long breath and ran his hand over his face, lingering over his chin as he fought for something.

“She did. I can’t help but feel like this all could have been avoided with a simple explanation. I know her father is not the easiest man, and you are forever stubborn. I understand her logic even if I don’t agree with it.”

“Her logic?” Luci asked.

What even was logic?

Ira sighed. “I suppose that’s hers to tell when we get back. If you want, we can pretend that this conversation never happened. I never admitted anything.”

Luci let loose a distinctly unladylike snort.

“I don’t think that’s how it works.”

In truth, she could never unabsorb his words. They were a part of her now.

He was watching her much like someone concerned for an injured animal. Like he might have spooked her, and her heart might stop at any moment. Funny, though, because that was an awful lot like how she felt.

Unsure of what was up and what was down, Luci turned to pick up her bag and did the only thing that was left to do.

She started walking up the mountain path.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, she was aware of Ira following her, but she was too busy fighting the furious storm taking place inside of her.

Brielle told him, and he knew. He knew it was her the night of the ball. He was jealous of Noah. He- nope, she wasn’t ready to remember those other words.

The cave was the same as the day before, but remarkably, her legs didn’t hurt, probably because the ache in her head was louder than anything else.

After all, how had she even gotten to this moment?

There was a lot of crying last night and this morning, feeling safe.

Maybe it was all just a terrible coincidence.

A series of events lining up to create perfect mayhem.

As the path began to narrow and the river fought to maintain its existence, Luci stopped.

It was sudden and without warning, causing Ira to crash into her, but she refused to acknowledge what his body felt like against hers. She was herself again. There were no secrets except the truths she refused to give life to. She didn’t have to pretend.

“Turn around,” she ordered.

Sometimes she wondered if he had forgotten he was a prince in line for the throne with how easily he agreed to things. Sure enough, he turned to face the cave wall.

“Why am I facing the wall?” he asked.

An excellent question that most people would have asked prior to the facing of the wall.

“Because I need to do something,” she said.

Without a second thought, Luci set down her bag and began taking off her clothes.

They were already sweat-drenched. The strange breeze within the cave whipped around her, kissing bare skin.

Maybe she’d lost what remained of her mind, but nothing felt as right as the moment she set her bare foot into the river, testing its depth.

“Luci?” Ira asked.

“I’m fine. I just need to do this.”

Stepping into the water, she let its icy cold run over her.

Normally, she would have complained about how cold it was, but now it felt like exactly what she needed.

Without second-guessing herself, Luci pulled herself under the water and scrubbed at her hair.

When she came up for air, black mingled with the blue-green water and began its downward descent towards the bottom of the river.

She let herself float. Her hair falling around her, seeping into the water. It felt like a cleansing, a ridding of bad spirits. When she finally emerged from the water once more, she found Ira lying on the ground with his hands behind his head and eyes closed.

Quietly, she padded towards where the small blanket was tossed near her clothes and used it to dry off. When she was at least partially dry, she redressed and wrung her hair out, for the first time in a while, seeing her honey-blond hair.

She stared at it, and Ira’s words rang in her ears.

“What you said was ridiculous,” she said.

Ira cracked an eye open and squinted at her.

“Oh?” a hint of a dimple. “Which part exactly?”

Luci held up her hands and let them fall in exasperation.

“All of it,” she hissed.

He shook his head and pushed himself up off the floor.

“I said a lot of things; it was more of a verbal onslaught, and in the pursuit of honesty, I’ve spent the last two hours trying to recall all of it so I could berate myself for my lack of tact, so I’m going to need you to be a little more specific.”

Blowing out a frustrated breath, Luci placed one hand on her hip and glared at him.

“I’m an orphan!” she said.

His smile slipped, and he dipped his head.

“You are, and for that I’m very sorry,” he said.

How could he not understand what she was trying to say? Insufferable and frustrating man.

“I’m a servant!”

He shrugged. “If you insist.”

Rage boiled beneath her skin at his deliberate obtuseness.

“How did you think this would end? I would be some mistress to keep tucked away for your convenience while you married someone like Annabeth?”

For a moment, Ira’s smile fell, and his eyes narrowed on hers in a way that grew a pit in her stomach like she’d done something terribly wrong.

“Is that what you think of me, Lucinda? That I would ask that of you?” he asked.

The pit grew, and smoky tendrils of guilt floated up her throat, evaporating the anger that she’d been holding onto and showing it for what it was. Not anger. Scared. Lucinda Blackthorn was terrified.

“How else would it- it’s impossible,” she breathed out.

Ira took a tentative step forward, and she knew he was afraid she would run. It was a legitimate concern. Even as she tried to say she wouldn't, she knew it was a lie.

“It works if you want it to,” he said.

She snorted and wrapped her arms around herself.

“The next in line for the throne can’t marry an orphaned servant,” she said.

Another step forward.

“Then I’ll abdicate to Gladys. She would do a better job anyway,” he said

“I hate court,” she said.

Another step.

“I assumed you’d want to be close to Blythe anyway, but I suspect Brielle and Lucien may have formed an attachment which may complicate living scenarios,” he said.

He was close to her now. If he reached out his arm, he would be touching her. Still, she didn’t step backwards. She didn’t run.

“If that’s true, Brielle has very bad taste in men,” Luci said.

Ira laughed, but it was tight, like pressure was building, holding his infectious laugh at bay.

The last step.

“Don’t run,” he whispered.

Midnight, but she wanted to. Almost as much as she wanted to reach out and touch him. It was a bloody war within her chest, but he’d long since grown on her. Much like Ivy that grows without invitation, covering everything it touches. So was Ira Vencia. He’d grown over her, and now she was covered.

“I’m scared,” she confessed.

He nodded, but slowly reached out and brushed his fingers over her cheek. Her eyes fluttered shut for a moment, but she forced them open, needing to see the sincerity in him. There it was, written like a book on the sunniest day, he only ever knew how to be himself.

“I don’t care where we live, I don’t care what titles we hold, I don’t care about anything as long as you don’t run. As long as you want this as much as I do.”

His fingers grazed her cheek, then trailed down to caress her mouth, sending a shiver down her spine. A want that was buried beneath everything else she was. Orphan. Servant. Friend. It was a pressure that begged her to add another title to her list. If only she were brave enough to take it.

“You are everything, Lucinda. I knew it from the moment I met you, and you accused me of lying before you asked if I was capable. I knew it when you challenged everything and anything and held your head high. Midnight, I even knew it when you threatened me over a piece of pie. I was dying trying to hold onto a promise I made to the wrong person. It’s you, and it’s been you from the beginning,” he said.

“Who announces an engagement without even proposing?” Luci whispered.

She loved being the reason his dimples returned. Being the reason for that smile that stopped her heart despite its intent to beat outside her chest. She loved the smell of cinnamon that radiated from him like a warm fall night by the fire.

“Someone who is very sure they’ve met the love of their life,” he said.

His lips were inches from hers, and she’d never hated a few inches of space as much as she did then.

“Arrogant,” she whispered.

He murmured a response, but it was lost in the gentle meeting of their lips. His were soft and hesitant while his hand wrapped around her cheek, warming her through. Luci didn’t know much, but she knew she liked how it felt. How right it was.

Parting her lips, she deepened the kiss, and he answered her without hesitation.

His hand lowered to her neck while his thumb pushed up her jaw, forcing her to fall into him and give him more purchase of her lips.

He kissed her like a man starved. Before she could think twice about it, her hands were tangled in his hair, and she was being kissed within an inch of her life.

His tongue slipped in her mouth, and a hunger that was foreign and demanding built where fear used to live. She gave him exactly what he pushed from her, and when he made a low throaty groan, she thought her stomach might implode from this need.

She broke the kiss to catch her breath, but he only gave her a moment’s respite, barely enough for one breath before he captured her lips again.

It was everything, and she could no longer deny how much she wanted this.

Wanted him. The prince who swept her off her feet from the first dance, even though she’d try to resist.

The smell of cinnamon grew, and jolts of energy pecked at her skin.

It was easy to ignore it at first, but it quickly became insistent.

Pulling away, Luci looked down and stared at what shouldn’t have existed.

Blue shimmering trails peppered her skin before skittering away up the path towards the top of the mountain.

“What-” Ira began.

“I’ve seen this before,” she said, breathless. “In the Glass room-”

Unable to finish the sentence, Luci grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the top, somehow knowing in her bones this was the moment they’d come from. Sure enough, just a few feet more, and the promise of sunlight clung to cave walls.

Never letting go of him, Luci crested the last steps, following the blue magic. When they reached the top, clouds gathered all around them, obscuring the ground below. The top, though, well, at the center sat a familiar flower. Feathered and swaying in the wind.

“The Midnight Flower,” she whispered.

“About time, don’t you think?” a feminine voice said. “I’ve only been waiting two thousand years.”

Luci and Ira turned to see a beautiful woman with long red hair and a navy blue dress leaning against a cobblestone home with a smoking chimney that hadn’t been there before.

The woman rolled her eyes and turned to re-enter the home.

“Come on, Cinderella, you can bring your prince too.”