I would first like to apologize to all for my tardiness in writing this chapter. I have been super busy with school/ Uni stuff and have not had the time to finish this.

I promise the next chapters will be uploaded much faster. If not you can all scold me

Enjoy!

~ V

Naveen swallowed hard, wiping his hands on his trousers to rid himself of sweaty palms. The warmth of the day really did not help. He took a few deep breaths then walked purposefully towards the tent entrance.

Then turned and walked straight back to his carriage.

What on earth was the matter with him? He was Royalty for goodness' sake! He had dealt with many more hurdles than this. And yet here he was, hiding behind his carriage, afraid to speak to the world's most beautiful woman.

The feast still was in in full bloom around him, the air filled with laughter and music and the smell of foods and drink. Never had he been to a more exciting party. And he had had more than his fair share in them. Everyone that passed him by smiled and waved, most even bowing out or respect. Others too drunk to recognise the young prince. The Lord Frollo however seemed not to enjoy this day at all. He had bid him farewell directly after the gyspy Esmeralda's performance. Naveen didn't like him very much, the Lord Facilier however was a huge source of interest and entertainment for him. Such a man held such a dangerous mysteriousness about him mixed with a hypnotic charm that made you instantly like him. He had introduced Naveen to many of the Gypsy folk and showed him their wonders. The entire day had been a blur of colour and laughter for him as he befriended the people, finding the loveable, charming and fascinating. Nothing at all like what Lord Frollo had told him about them.

But all the while, the Gypsy girl Esmeralda danced around in the back of his mind. He found himself glancing here and there; all over for her but she hadn't re-appeared since her dance. After asking a few people he had been directed here to her tent, and now, as the sun began it's set, he tried working up the courage to go and speak to her.

With a deep breath and a thundering heart he walked over to the tent entrance, raising his fist to knock, then realizing he couldn't knock on the fabric of a tent, he pushed the curtain aside and stepped out of the sunlight.

"Hello, is anyone here?" he called out timidly, feeling like a fool.

"If that is you, Clopar i'm changing and I'll be out to see him in a minute." Came her velvety voice from behind a divider in the far corner of the small tent.

He had met Clopar earlier; he had been the first Gypsy introduced to him by Naveen, seeming to be very high in his honour and not just a show Barter or magician.

"No, i am Prince Naveen"

Her head poked out from behind the divider, her green eyes wide in wonder, her shoulder was bare and he quickly realized she was half-naked. A blush overcame him and desire coursed through his veins at the very thought and sight of her flawless, golden skin cast even darker in the dim light of the tent.

"Prince Naveen! Oh i'm sorry I'll be right with you," she exclaimed, quickly disappearing behind the divider only to re-appear in moments wearing a long, flowing red dress covered in gold, swirling patterns. It hugged her form gracefully and covered all but revealing much. It stopped just below her knees and her slender ankles were without the gold bands. He hair had been messily piled atop her head, held in place by braids and clasps, a few loose wisps of strands curling down to her shoulders, drawing attention to her collarbones and the skin of her chest, her breasts only just covered by the top of the dress.

He licked his lips in an attempt to work some moisture into his suddenly dry mouth and tried his best to not focus on how the dress hugged her curves. But looking at her face did little to help, her hair piled ontop of her head like that made her beautiful face look even more so, to the point of it being unbearable. He wanted nothing more than to stand here and look at her for all eternity, and at the same time to kiss her soft, pouting lips. Images flashed through his mind distracting him heavily until he stop there gaping silently like a dead fish.

She giggled and moved closer to him and he was sure she could hear the thudding of his racing heart.

"I was told that in the presence of Royalty, I am to wait for his royal highness to chose the topic of conversation." She winked at him.

He seemed to wake from a dream and cleared his throat loudly, "oh no, well yes that's what they expect but i'd rather do without the formalities."

His words came out in jumples and rushed and why was this tent so warm!?

She smiled her beautiful smile and glided over to a desk next to her upon which was a vanity and lots of trinkets, jewellery, make up, her dagger, perfumes, flowers and more.

She picked up a few bracelets and slid them onto her wrist, "to what to I owe the pleasure of a visit from you, your highne-"

"-oh please, call me Naveen."

She smiled at him through his reflection in the mirror, noticing his eyes straying to wander down her dress as her back was now to him.

"I wanted to – to congratulate you. No not congratulate...to thank...no um...i"

She smiled again and straightened, turning from the mirror to stand before him again, closer this time. She really was not helping him at all. He swallowed hard and her heat surrounded him, her smell intoxicating him.

"Your dancing was really nice" he mumbled stupidly.

"Thank you, Naveen"

His eyes were on her lips, her voice filled his senses, heat rushed to his groin as sinful thoughts raced through his mind. His eyes moved to the generous cleavage her dress showed, her silky skin, her neck, her lips, her eyes as black as the night. She was so close to him, he felt like there was nothing in the spinning world but her and her heat.

"Naveen."

His eyes fluttered open at the sound of her voice. She sat before him, her green eyes wide in worry. He became aware that he was lying on the floor of the tent, something cold and wet on his head.

"What happened?" he asked, feeling drugged and dazed as he pushed himself to sit up.

"You fainted" she told him, taking a wet cloth from his forehead and helping him stand.

"Fainted?" he repeated, holding onto her arm for dear life as the room spun.

"Yes, the heat must have gotten to you." She said.

He nodded, his vision clearing as he looked at her.

"I must go" he said, not at all meaning it, but he needed some air and to get away from her and the thoughts she entertained in him.

He left and she stood alone in the middle of the floor. She smirked as she moved to her dresser, retrieving her dagger and slipping it into it's holder on her thigh. She covered it with her dress and turned to leave the tent also, hearing his carriage move away.

Naveen was attractive. Very attractive. The call of his blood pounding in his neck, the smell of it drawing her so close to him. She had worked her charm on him, and when he fell under it – quite literally – she set him gently down on the floor. But she didn't allow herself to taste his blood. Facilier had warned her of it. So instead she had tended him, until he awoke and sent him on his way.

Yes he was attractive, but he heart belonged to her Master.

And he was expecting her.

She walked through the streets of Paris, the sun warming the ground where she put her bare feet. The feast was still going, music still playing, people still dancing through the streets. She looked to the blood red sky and smiled, her fangs glinting once before they were hidden. If anyone had saw her, they would have not noticed anything but the beautiful Gypsy woman Esmeralda. She danced through her streets, the people greeting her, loving her. She felt her power inside her and smiled secretly. He truly had given her all she could ever had wanted.

A thirst burned in her, not the thirst of blood but of lust as she thought of her Lord and Master awaiting her at home. She went to him eagerly.