Cruel Seduction- Chapter One

The smell of salt when deprived of the cold waters was strangely addictive. I found myself standing at the edge of the sea, my muscles feeling scarily atrophied. I watched as the sea ambiguous shape, starting to rise and pooled over at my feet. The winds were beating hard at my face, my hair flailing at all directions.

Then, I stared up at the nearby tree, the shadows dark and looking dangerously close to flying off. I wondered, how would it feel, to fly, knowing freedom and be able to love freely. My throat constricted, my eyes started to sting and hurt, the aftereffect of not, crying for a long time.

I glanced up at the sky, bathing in its warm glory as the sun starts to set; I had no doubt my eyes had taken a strange mystic glow as I mulled over the plaintive pink and orange glow of sunset that was slowly being drawn a pervasive silver veil of moonlight. And it was during that moment when the last ruddy rays of the sunset brighten momentarily before yielding to twilight that I etched closer.

It was dark everywhere, Eddie Castile was wandering on the school grounds, desperately searching for his best mate Rose. Their small little affectionate group of best buddies had overheard Dimitri, Rose's mentor, and Tasha Ozera conversation, implicating of her offer to him to be her guardian.

Rose had left without a glance, her face solemn and angry. However, Tasha's rapturous mood was unaffected. When Eddie spotted Rose at her dorm, he casually spoke of that matter, indicating his thoughts and premonition that Dimitri would accept that offer. Call him dumb of whatsoever, but he didn't notice of Rose's sudden erratic breathing and her tearful eyes. Neither did he notice her fists that are wound tightly together.

Mayhap that was his mistake, being too oblivious to his friend's feelings. Now, he was pacing and fraught with dubious thoughts and misguided feelings. The gods laugh, anticipating at the things that were to unfold.

The lapping ice-cold waters were reaching to my mid-thigh. I briefly wondered, honestly, what was I doing. The ferocious winds seem to ride with the waters, like a woman with its last breath straddling a man. The sand was silky smooth, dripping through my toes like liquid gold, surrounding, and never ending.

I was going to spread my legs wider, to have a more stable footing, but the seas took that opportunity to ride me with them, closing up, holding me in. I fall into the water, holding on to my quick breath and went up to the surface to breathe. But they don't allow, sucking me in, the waves rolled over, high and mighty, gushing at my head, and I found water entering my nostrils.

I felt choked, I can't see, only feeling the water, blood thundered in my ears. I didn't want to die, not really. When I first edged along the surface, I might have a thought about it, but it was just a jest. People usually joked about their deaths, and the infamous Rose Hathaway was going to die, by drowning and asphyxiation. I kicked at my legs, my chest burned so much, and my lungs felt like bursting. I opened my mouth, probably because of my oxygen deprived brain can't think anymore, and the water gushed in, flooding my esophagus and windpipe.

Everything seemed to playing out in slow motion, the seas, the desperation, the love of my life, the drowning. Finally after what felt like hours, I relaxed. My muscles tired and…I don't know how to explain, but I just wanted to rest and sleep…

21st April 1509

It was during the reign of King Adrian Ivashkov, who succeeded the throne shortly after his father's death. He was 22 years old then. Known for his promiscuity and notorious affairs with women, many authors and historians were vaguely interested.

King Adrian was bored. Grooms and ushers had long prepared His Majesty garments the last eve, ensuring all his apparel were warmed, and were on hand to assist the eight Gentlemen as they went about dressing His Highness. The eight Gentlemen were the only servants allowed to lay hand on his Royal person, given the highest honor as they worked with great delicacy and sensitivity. The king yawned as they dressed him in a loose silk shirt that was embroidered with gold, and then silk nether hose fastened with a garter, and then trunk hose, also of silk. At his waist the King usually wore a bejeweled dagger and sword, while around his neck hung either a medallion or diamond. His colors were purple, gold, silver and green- colors that the lower classes were forbidden to wear, even if they could afford such finery- and today he wore purple, the corresponding jerkin brought forth.

Next, Sir Simon indicated for an usher, who stepped forward, the light of the bumbling fire behind him, and proffered the doublet that Simon slipped over the king's shoulders then knelt to fasten.

The beautiful place at Darenth were bustling and jostling as they welcomed summer. However, their joy was short founded as they discovered a body. A healer was brought forth, with herbs in a basket and eyes wide with worry. Lady Margaret had never seen such a case before, since drowning was inevitable and deemed possessed by the devil to do such an evil thing.

She kneeled beside the body, as the other women formed a circle to prevent the men from seeing, the young woman was scantily clad and with her clothes wet, she might as well be nude. She placed a hand at her wrist, feeling the faint pulse and slightly bit her lower lip. This is a difficult case.

I could feel someone shaking me and forcing my mouth open. I didn't want to wake up, uncomfortable by the annoying buzz of noises. The water was forcing its way from my windpipe and up my throat. I couldn't breathe, I just want to sleep, but the faint tingle won't let me off, it keeps pushing and pushing till-

I choke and puke out the seawater, distantly hearing the faint sigh of relief. I opened my bleary eyes, taking in the different faces of women, and vaguely wondering if I was rescued by a group of people from the drama club or something. They were dressed in 16th century dresses, with high collared Victorian dresses that is trimmed with white laces, with high bonnets perched on the head.

And that was all I remembered before I lose consciousness.

Author's Confessions:

This is a time-travel romance. Starring at the reign of King Henry VIII, during the 1509s. I do know i have a couple of stories that are undone, but I am still writing and drafting. Patience is gold. I had taken a few words here and there from the book, Henry VIII : Wolfman by A.E. Moorat

Please Read This :

This story is not following the history of king Henry VIII, and any this work is ficticious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, places is purely coincidental.

Acknowledgements:

Characters that you can indentify from the vampire academy novels do belong to Richelle Mead, i do not hold any rights over them and any form of the publication, Henry VIII : Wolfman By A.E Moorat that can be indentify in this story solely belongs to him.