10.

Large, worn, calloused hands tugged at strings of satin, pulling them undone. Undressing Justine had been nothing shy of a distant dream up until this point, and now that it was actually happening Ivan didn't know what to do or how to contain himself.

It was like unwrapping a gift on Christmas day.

Justine stood with her back to him, hair pulled over her shoulder to reveal the lacing that led down to her rear. Ivan pulled slowly, kissing from the curve of her cheek, down the length of her neck. Justine gasped, swaying back into him.

"S-Sir Ivan," She called, breathlessly.

"Ivan," He corrected with a painful nip at the junction of her shoulder.

"Ivan~" She moaned. "Can you please just finish unlacing the dress?"

Ivan chuckled deeply against her skin, kissing her once more before pulling his mouth away.

"Very well."

Ivan went back to the task of unlacing the girl's dress. "You looked beautiful tonight."

"You told me this already."

"Then I will tell you again… and again… and again…" He placed light kisses to her exposed shoulder. "I think you are beautiful."

Justine blushed, reaching to comb her fingers through his soft locks. "Such a kind and handsome knight," She said.

Ivan took her hand, lacing their fingers before kissing her knuckles.

Oh, to touch her.

Such a simple action brought him great joy and satisfaction.

"There, all done."

"Thank you."

Justine shrugged out of the dress, being mindful of the delicate sequins. She draped it over the edge of her bed before turning to face the knight, now clothed in just her undergarments.

Ivan couldn't help but stare.

Justine's cheeks tinted darker as she brushed passed him, grabbing her chemise. "Come, let's get you changed." She said, once fully clothed.

Justine pulled the knight behind her as she made her way up the set of stairs, pausing briefly at his bedroom door. "May I?"

"Of course."

She turned the bronze knob and pushed the door open. Ivan's room was exactly how she expected it to be, neat and in order. There was a large, four postered bed against the largest wall beside the window, the only window in the room. On the wall opposite of the bed was a deep green sitting chair with a stool, a trunk with his clothing in the corner, and a small oak writing desk.

Ivan watched as her eyes scanned his room before falling back on him, offering him a sheepish smile. Her hands made slow work of removing his clothing, and Ivan refused to move an inch. He was afraid that if he moved, if he so much as breathed, he would wake up from this dream.

Is this what it felt like to be in love again? To be so self-conscious that he didn't even want to be in his own skin? Speak his own thoughts? Out of fear of losing her…?

Justine tugged his shirt over his head, marveling at the flex of toned muscle. The Russian jumped slightly, his arms returning to his sides, as Justine gently touched him. Her fingers ghosted over the taunt skin of his pectorals, touching pale nipples lightly. Ivan shivered, as she traced over his abdominals, over the fine light hairs that sat below his naval and led into his trousers.

"You… are not afraid to touch me? You are not disgusted?"

Justine shook her head as she tugged his pants undone. "I am not."

God, Ivan wanted her to keep touching him. "Why not?"

Lillian, after he became a knight and the scars seemingly poured in, could barely stand the sight of him at times. There were moments when she couldn't stand the thought of touching him, as new wounds healed and warped into scars. Her emerald eyes would avert his when he dressed or changed in front of her, and they barely touched at all if he was barely clothed. When they had sex, save for her legs wrapped at his waist, Lillian didn't touch him. Their relationship had very little affection in it, no hugs, or even a simple brush of hands. Even though she clung to him possessively, Ivan seriously doubted Lillian truly loved him anymore.

It was the idea of having a knight on her arm that gave Lillian a thrill, bragging rights of the highest magnitude.

Yet Justine touched him so freely, admired him. It felt strange, to say the least.

"Because it is still you." The girl replied simply. "You are still you, no matter how many scars you have or how you look. It is what is on the inside that counts, at least that is how we were raised to look at people."

Ivan found himself stepping closer, cupping her face once again to kiss her. He would never get enough of kissing her. When their lips met, tongues clashing and teeth scraping against one another, her hands combing through his hair, gripping the ends with a slight tug. His hands kneaded the pouch of flesh at her waist. Ivan felt more alive than he'd ever felt. Sailing the seas to his motherland or standing in a field of sunflowers didn't compare.

"Sleep here with me tonight." Ivan breathed, nuzzling her nose with his own.

"My, are you affectionate." Justine giggled with a half hearted smile.

"Will you?"

Justine nodded.

Ivan guided her towards the bed, where she climbed into the man's heavy blankets and linens. Justine watched as Ivan went about changing out of his trousers and into his sleep pants. He didn't bother with a shirt.

"What do you want to do tomorrow?" He asked.

"Huh?" Her head tilted.

"Tomorrow, what do you want to do?"

Justine didn't know, honestly. What was there to do in town other than visit the marketplace, the church, or the courthouse? And they would have to ride horseback to get to any open fields or the ocean. She hummed in thought, tapping her chin. They could visit Francis and inform him of their latest accomplishment, but then again, the Frenchman gossiped more than a cluster of women and she doubted Ivan wanted their business floating all over town. Then again, Francis most likely already knew this was going to happen since he knew 'the ways of the heart', as he called it. That, and she was pretty sure King Arthur would be wanting his company after having missed the play and time with him to help her.

Ludwig would be nice, his house was further out into the country and he had tons of animals and space. They could spend the day with him and Feliciano, who, she heard had taking a liking to her jam and wanted to thank her by making her a dinner. Some native dish from his home in Italy. But Ludwig wasn't much of a conversationalist sober and it wouldn't be much fun if she just sat around while the knights drank their weight in booze.

She supposed they could visit the church, but then again once Ivan started to pray… he started to pray. Like pour out his heart and soul, and that could take hours.

Never mind.

"I would like to see the ocean." Justine said, eventually, almost shyly.

Ivan glanced at her, "Then the ocean we will see."

He climbed into the bed next to her, pulling her to his chest. Strong arms wrapped around her slender waist as her head rested against him.

"Thank you." Justine whispered as she snuggled closer to his side.

"Do not thank me." Ivan planted a kiss to the top of her head.

When Justine didn't say anything else, Ivan glanced down to find the young girl sleeping soundly. So innocent and pure, it was almost shameful. He tucked a tuft of her hair behind the small shell of her ear, oh what a feeling it was to be happy.