Chapter 8 - Wretched Curse

AYLETH

They made it to the center just as the bells began to toll. Or rather, they almost reached it. Despite his grip on her hand, her Lord and his man had been hissing words at each other the entire walk—which wasn't far. And when they were almost there, he urged her to go ahead, that he would follow her in a moment. Assuming he had to discipline his Clown, who seemed to act awfully familiar for his position, she nodded and started around the tree that hid the secret passage through the maze. But just then the bells began to ring, and he suddenly clutched her hand and stopped her, pulling her back into the dim shadows of the tree. "No, wait!" he whispered.

She came back immediately, much happier to be with him. "It's time!" she cried and reached back to untie her mask. The dratted strings had tangled with her hair. "Don't worry, it will only take a moment. Take yours off!"

He stood, staring at her, hands at his sides, and suddenly his Clown appeared at his shoulder and snapped, "You must take care!" as the cheers and exclamations began to ring out from the crowd only feet away.

"I wouldn't normally speak to another ruler about how to deal with their servants, but he's only a Clown, it's not like he's your man—why do you have a Clown anyway…" her voice trailed off and her mouth dropped open.

The Clown.

She'd heard the rumors that came with their blood sworn enemies—those from the Kingdom of Summitras. The Heir apparent, a son of four and twenty, was rumored to be so arrogant, so utterly boorish, that he travelled with his own Court Clown, lest at any moment he find himself needing entertainment.

And her Lord standing there, his Lion mask still on his face, staring sadly at her.

Then she looked at the Clown who stared back, hard-eyed, but had at least stopped hissing at the Prince.

She dropped the strings of her mask which were hopelessly tangled now because of her rush. "You…" She looked at the Clown again. "It cannot be."

"Oh, I assure you, it is, Princess," the Clown said dryly. She looked at her Lord.

He cleared his throat, "Ayleth… I didn't know. Not until you told me of your abduction."

Those men had been sent by the King of Summitras.

Ayleth stepped back. Then back again, her mouth still wide open. "You… You cannot be…"

"I am," Etan said, and his hair raked back as he pushed his mask off his handsome face. So handsome her heart raced.

His hair was ebony black, his skin a warm brown that threatened to fade in in the winter months. He stared at her with glittering green eyes, over high cheekbones and a noble nose, his jaw tight and shadowed this late in the day. The pillar of his neck that she'd just touched with its hard lines and steel strength, so different to her own. And his chest... She gasped and covered her eyes. She'd humiliated herself revealing her stupid, childish desire.

"No, Ayleth. This changes nothing."

"You cannot—how can you say that? It changes everything!" She was horrified to realize she was crying.

"Etan, she's right. This is very, very complicated."

"Etan," she breathed. That was his name? She'd never heard it. Or perhaps never paid attention. She had no interest in the Heir of Summitras.

Correction. She'd had no interest in him.

"Ayleth, please." His voice cracked on the plea and she stared at him, shoving her mask up and off, despite how it would pull her hair out of the beautiful twist the Maid had managed for her.

She couldn't breathe.

She had met her One. And he was the son of her blood sworn enemy.

She stared at him, and he stepped forward again, offering both hands palm up. "Touch me," he whispered. "Hold my hands. This is real, Ayleth. I don't know how it happened, but it is real, and we cannot possibly deny it."

"That bears greater examination," his Clown muttered and Ayleth lost her hold on herself.

"Would you please stop mocking his Highness and… and needling us both!" she snapped.

The Clown's face dropped, and he swept into a very respectful bow. "I do apologize, Highness. It was wrong of me. I was simply taken back when I realized… who you were. Please accept my apologies."

"Of course," she said without thought, because impeccable manners had been trained into her bones. Then she swallowed and turned back to Etan.

The noise of the celebrating nobles behind her was growing, but they remained in the shadow of the tree. Yet if someone were to be looking for her and find them here. Together. Ayleth shook her head and stormed past him and his beautiful, large hands and back into the hidden passage of the maze.

She was five steps in before she turned on her heel to find both men still standing where they'd been, staring at her.

"Well? Are you coming? We cannot have this conversation in front of others!" she hissed.

"Yes, of course," Etan hurried through the shadows towards her until he reached her side. He stopped just short of her and they stared at each other for a moment. His eyes almost seemed to glow. She couldn't resist, she raised a trembling hand to his cheek, letting her palm catch on the scruff of his jaw.

He blew out a breath and put his hand over hers, and that jolt that happened whenever they touched shivered through her again.

"Please, Ayleth."

"I cannot deny it," she whispered.

"Thank the Light," he groaned, reaching for her waist. She let him pull her closer, but her face did not shine with the love she felt.

"You must understand…" she breathed. "Your name in my home… it is a curse."

He nodded once, sadly.

"My parents…" She could not even finish the thought. Her parents would, quite literally, kill him if they knew he had touched her.

"I know," he said hoarsely. "Ayleth, you must believe me, you have my heart. I do not know how; I cannot explain why. But you are my One, and I will do everything in my power, and use everything I command to ensure your safety and… and the safety of our future children."

"Highness, you forget yourself," the Clown hissed.

But Etan shook his head. "Take off your belt, Borsche," he said firmly.

"You cannot be serious!" he barked.

"What?" she asked, confused.

"I will not hear this madness," the Clown growled, putting a hand to Etan's chest. "You must stop to think this through. The implications for the Kingdom alone, let alone your family—"

"Take. Your hands. Off me," Etan snarled.

Ayleth's mouth dropped open.