A/N: Here's Chapter 14, to make up for my lack of an update. Please enjoy!
Chapter 14: Dubious Reunions
"Why did you do that, Red?"
Winnie twisted in the saddle to meet Wolf's puzzled gaze, then shrugged, feigning ignorance.
"What are you talking about?"
With a barely audible growl, Wolf leaned from his seat and tugged Winnie's mare to a stop, only releasing the chestnut equine when she had halted, ignoring Winnie's attempts to pry his fingers from the reins. His amber eyes bored into her brown ones, demanding an answer, and Winnie squirmed, uncomfortable under his intense gaze, feeling as if the afternoon sun was suddenly too hot on her back.
"Why did you lie?" Winnie blushed at the question, averting her gaze towards the trees on the other side of the road.
"I couldn't let him kill you for something you didn't do," she murmured, only turning back to face him when she was sure the flush had faded from her cheeks.
"What if I stole it?" Wolf's inquiry was casual, his voice light, and Winnie stared at him, mouth agape, shocked. Wolfgang gazed at her seriously, all customary teasing gone from his expression.
"Did you?"
Slowly, Wolf shook his head, frowning. "I did not. I don't even know what he was referring to."
For the first time since leaving Reynard Manor, sitting calmly her white mare on Winnie's opposite side, Roselyn spoke. "He tried to accuse you of stealing a necklace that had belonged to his mother."
Both of her companions stared at her in surprise, and the princess-to-be shifted in the saddle, gazing back towards Reynard Manor with a strange, wistful look on her face.
"Why?"
Roselyn did not turn to meet their incredulous gazes, and she continued to stare in the direction they had come, towards the manor and the lord they had just left.
"He wanted Winnie."
Her soft, flat reply summoned a snarl of distaste to Wolf's lips. "We know."
"He wanted Winnie in order to gain acceptance in the royal court." Roselyn continued, ignoring Wolf's outburst, her blue eyes growing unfocused as she considered something beyond her companions. "He spoke of it often."
Winifred stared at her friend, confused by the obvious rapport Roselyn remembered sharing with Rueben. "How often did you speak to him?"
At her question, Roselyn seemed to recall herself, and she calmed her skittish mare as she turned in the saddle to give Winnie a reprimanding glare. "I spent my time with him because you refused to!"
Stunned by her friend's venomous and sudden outburst—layered with pain and anger that Winnie had never encountered in Roselyn before—Winnie watched in confusion as Roselyn urged her mare into a trot, moving rapidly down the road.
"Red?"
At Wolf's concerned question, the red-headed woman shook her head, feeling helpless and unable to give him an answer. What was that about?
Turning the pale lily over in her hands, Millicent inhaled the scents of the gardens around her. The imperial gardens were populated with a variety of flowers, some from the far reaches of the world, but she could not find the peace she normally discovered in this secluded place. It eluded her, much as the rose petals did when the wind knocked them from their precarious perches and sent them swirling through the air.
"Millie?"
At any other time, Lady Millicent of Hake would have welcomed that voice with a smile, but now, she steadily turned on the bench, away from her companion.
Gregory would not be so easily deterred, and he stepped quickly over to the stone perch, sitting down beside her and reaching for her hands.
The familiar touch did not soothe her, and Millie refused to look at him as he attempted to raise her gaze to his.
"What's wrong?"
"Is it true?" Millie asked calmly, lifting her chin defiantly and refusing to allow the tears to leave the corners of her eyes.
Gregory's brow creased in puzzlement, and Millicent clenched her hands, stifling the urge to smooth away his worry, as she had done so many times before.
"Did you receive word from your cousin?" The words were soft, almost pulled away by the breeze before the prince would hear them.
The crown prince of Loken sat back, his brow smoothing itself, pleased to have some answer to her odd behavior. He stared at her seriously, his blue eyes searching her green ones, endeavoring to find some evidence to her inner turmoil.
"Is that what's wrong?" Gregory asked with a quiet chuckle, leaning forward to press a gentle kiss to his lover's forehead.
Millie pulled away slightly, barely allowing his lips to brush her skin. She stared up at him, her green eyes burning with a feverish light as she demanded information. "What did he say?"
"Rueben's falcon delivered a message that Roselyn had left his manor six days ago and will most likely be arriving this afternoon."
Millie flinched from the sound of Miss Lanton's name, her eyes gaining shadows in the sunlit garden for a moment. "So soon?"
Gregory gave her a reassuring smile, raising a hand to cradle her cheek. "Millie, you knew this day would come."
The reassuring smile disappeared as a grimace took its place, and the prince looked decidedly nervous as he voiced his next question. "Millie, would you help her learn her way around the court?"
For a moment, Gregory thought perhaps his lover would faint. She stilled, her green eyes widening and all color draining from her face. Then she seemed to regain her mobility, for she was suddenly towering over him, on her feet, her face twisted into a grimace of pain and incredulous rage.
"Do not ask this of me!" She spat, beginning to tremble, twisting away from his embrace as Gregory stood and attempted to take her into his arms.
"Do not, Gregory!" Millie cried, her voice rising as she began to pace in the small space, her green eyes once again regaining their feverish cast. "I cannot retain my place at court and befriend your bride! It would be madness! You would put both of us in danger!"
The prince reached out to her, his brown hair flopping into his face as he considered her seriously. Despite her anger and fear, Millie could not resist smoothing away the errant locks, allowing herself to draw strength from the simple touch of his skin, breathing deeply and attempting to calm her trembling.
Gregory gazed at her quizzically, worry once again causing lines to appear on his brow. "Danger? Millie, what do you mean?"
Millicent averted her gaze, biting her lip as she considered the lilies that grew nearby. She could not allow the man she loved to know the true meaning behind her words.
"Greg," she told him softly, noticing the way his blue eyes softened with relief when she used his childhood nickname, "you know what happens when two young hounds from the same pack are placed in a cage together?"
"Of course," the prince replied easily, thinking of the many hounds he had commanded on the hunt. "One will kill the other, and the champion will become the sire of a new pack."
Millicent cradled his face in her hands, giving him a tremulous smile, ready to give in to the tears that had waited too long for escape. "Do not ask me to assist your bride," she whispered, pressing her lips against his gently. "You would see us encounter the same fate as your hounds."
She turned to go, ready to flee from the small space, feeling the hedges and bushes close around her, the heady perfume of the flowers suddenly cloying, but Gregory caught her wrist and drew her back into his arms.
"Be at my side when she arrives," he pleaded softly. "You will find you have nothing to fear from Roselyn."
Millie nearly refused, but gazing into his imploring blue eyes, she found she could not deny him anything, no matter how painful she might find the request.
Bowing her head in defeat, she pressed her head to her prince's shoulder. "I will be there."
"What's your business in the castle?"
The guard at the gate was not in the mood for elaborate stories—he had heard them all since dawn, as it seemed every person in the kingdom endeavored to be at the prince's wedding.
However, the three travelers before him now seemed of nobler stock. The woman on the white mare straightened her saddle, giving him a disdainful, imperious glare.
"You would dare delay your princess?" She hissed, her blue eyes flashing dangerously, and the guard suddenly took in the four guards that rode behind her—all wearing the royal insignia.
Feeling foolish and ducking his head in embarrassment, the guard quickly opened the gate, bowing low as his future monarch passed.
Winnie followed Roselyn through the gate, sensing her friend's mounting excitement as they drew closer to their journey's end. Soon Roselyn would be married to the prince of the kingdom, and Winnie found herself wondering if she would miss the refined lady her friend had turned into.
"Gregory!" Roselyn barely allowed the groom to take her mare's reins before she was sliding from her mount and rushing across the courtyard to embrace her betrothed, completely disregarding the other three people standing with him.
Winnie slipped off her own mare, grateful for Wolf's presence as he came up beside her, unsure of what to do as the grooms led their horses away.
She watched as Gregory embraced Roselyn slowly, almost if he despised himself for doing so. Winnie wondered if it was a courtly rule about intimate embraces that kept the prince in such a reserved manner, or if he was truly not pleased to see her.
He didn't seem to be, as he introduced her to the three people standing near him, his blue eyes curiously devoid of any welcoming or loving emotion.
"Lady Roselyn," he announced, loud enough to carry, "may I present you to my parents?"
Giving her monarchs a tremulous smile, Roselyn swept King Carolos and Queen Arnia a low curtsey, looking up with surprised pleasure as Queen Arnia leaned forward to raise her up, embracing her.
"This," Gregory told his intended, tucking her arm in his, "is my friend, Lady Millicent of Hake."
Winnie noticed the prince sounded nervous as he introduced the two women, and she watched as they regarded each other warily. Lady Millicent scrutinized the younger woman before her, and her green eyes flashed with barely concealed disgust.
As if it pained her, the blonde woman lowered herself into a stiff curtsey. "Your Highness." The words were quiet, and Winnie nearly missed them in the silence of the courtyard, but even inaudibility could not mask the resentment that the titled contained. Even the monarchs were quiet, sensing that something important had transpired.
"I've missed you," Roselyn surprised them all by murmuring, reaching up to brush a kiss against Gregory's cheek and blushing with pleasure when he returned the gesture. Winnie turned her gaze to Lady Millicent, wondering why a friend of the prince's was present when Roselyn arrived, and she found that the older woman was pale, as if she were ill, her green eyes glittering with some harsh emotion that Winnie instinctively flinched from.
"Winnie!" Roselyn beckoned from ahead, and Winifred hurried to catch up.
When she reached her friend, she found the princess' spirits restored: her eyes glowed with excitement, and she beamed at Winnie, nearly bouncing as she accompanied Gregory into the castle.
"Winnie, there's a ball tonight!" Roselyn grinned at Winnie, delighted, and then hugged her arms to herself, pleased. "It's held in my honor!"
Winnie frowned, nearly protesting. "Roselyn, our trunks did not come with us."
Roselyn's face fell, and she turned towards the prince. Gregory anticipated her question, and he managed to smile down at her, barely glancing at Winnie.
"My mother had many dresses made for your arrival," he told his betrothed, accepting her quick kiss of thanks. "You as well, Lady Winifred."
Winnie started at the title, then remembered her manners. "Thank you, Your Highness." In truth, she wanted to feign sickness or exhaustion from the long journey in order not to attend the ball, but she knew that Roselyn would expect her there.
"Hold still!" Winnie squirmed in response, summoning an exasperated sigh from her friend as Roselyn tightened her grip on Winnie's shoulders and nodded for the hairdresser to continue.
"Winnie, will you please behave!" Roselyn scolded, sounding like her mother.
The red-headed woman glared at her friend's reflection in the mirror, frowning. "You know I don't enjoy this things."
"I want you with me," Roselyn said firmly, tugging one of the last curls into place. Winnie bit her lip and surveyed her hair, wishing she could truthfully say she disliked the arrangement.
Somehow, the hairdresser had managed to tame her wavy hair into curls, piling them onto her head in an elaborate knot and leaving some to float around her face. The hue of her hair complimented the leaf green of her dress, and Winnie smoothed her skirts, blushing.
"You're beautiful." Roselyn breathed, dismissing the hairdresser with a wave of her hand.
Winnie stood and surveyed her friend through the mirror, a wry smile pulling her lips at the compliment. "Not when standing next to you."
Looking every inch a princess, Roselyn was dressed in a gown of midnight blue, silver embroidery at the hem, cuffs and neckline giving the impression of a night sky. She wore her sable curls loose and unbound, falling nearly to her waist. Her cheeks were flushed with excitement, and her blue eyes glowed, as if she had finally found where she belonged.
Roselyn had slipped into the role of princess easily only minutes after arriving at the palace. After weeks of ordering around the maids at Reynard Manor, her personal maids fell under her command obediently, and Winnie marveled at the way Roselyn seemed completely at home amongst the lavish hangings of her rooms, as if she had lived in palaces and castles all her life.
Winifred felt decidedly less comfortable in her opulent surroundings, and she wished she could escape her rooms in order to explore the royal gardens—with some many trees and flowers, perhaps she could regain some of the peace she felt at home in the forest.
Their rooms were adjoining at Roselyn's request, and when the knock sounded at Roselyn's door, the princess couldn't suppress a delighted giggle.
"Gregory!" With a rustling of skirts, she was at the door. Winnie was about to follow when someone knocked on her own door.
Assuming it was one of the servants coming to lead her to the ballroom, Winnie sighed and swung the door open.
She and Wolf stared in mutual amazement for a moment, each taking the other in. Winnie felt a blush creep up her neck as she noticed the warm glow in Wolf's amber eyes, surveying her much as he had that day long ago, in her grandmother's house.
Wolfgang was dressed much as he had been at the disastrous ball at Reynard Manor, but instead of midnight blue, he was dressed in a suit of black, his white shirt and cuffs gleaming against the inky-dark material. His hair—normally brushing his shoulders—was pulled into a horsetail.
Then Wolf grinned, a slow, lazy smile that reminded Winnie that the dashing man before her was the Wolfgang Lothar she had known from Satuton.
"Red, you're breathtaking," he told her in a husky tone that reminded her of the times he had held her close. Stepping closer, Winnie tipped her face towards his boldly, enjoying the way his amber eyes flashed with surprised pleasure.
"I didn't know you could be so handsome," Winnie teased, aware of his arms wrapping around her waist.
"Surprised?" Wolf smirked, unable to resist as he leaned down to press his lips against hers. It had been too long, he mused, too long since he had held her this way. Her lips were soft under his, her tongue flickering out gently to taste his lips. He groaned and returned the advance, claiming her mouth for his own. Winnie's fingers wound themselves into his hair, tugging his head closer to her own, and Wolf sank his fingers into the mass of red curls, heedless of the elaborate arrangement.
When they parted for air, Wolf groaned and pressed his lips against hers again, softly. "If we don't leave now," he growled, "we'll never make it to the ball."
Well aware that they stood on the threshold of her bedroom, Winnie saw the wisdom of his words but could not resist pressing against him again, uncaring of the wrinkles her dress sustained. Rewarded with a rumbling growl she could feel in Wolf's chest as she rested her head on his shoulder, Winnie could not stop the smile that slid over her face as Wolf brushed his fingers against her cheek, his breathing shallow.
"Red?" There was deeper, rawer edge to Wolf's soft whisper as he tightened his grip on her waist, stroking the curve of her spine. "Is that an invitation?"
Winnie heard the desperate longing in his voice, and while she longed in a deep, inexpressible way to answer it, she knew what her answer had to be.
Heaving a reluctant sigh, she pulled away, noticing the disappointment on Wolf's face as she did so. "If we don't go," she told him, a wry smile curling her lips, "I know Roselyn will come looking for me."
Wolf gave a strangled laugh. "As you wish, Red." His amber eyes were heated with a raw need that something deep within her responded to, causing her to shiver. Wolf shook his head, stepping away from her for a moment before turning back and offering his arm with a courteous bow.
Stepping into the ballroom, Winnie could not keep her surprised gasp contained. The room she stood in made the ornate ballroom of Reynard Manor seem drab by comparison. Every surface gleamed, reflecting gold and light until Winnie blinked, almost blinded by the brilliance.
Wolf's warm hand slipped into her own, and she looked up into his comforting smile. "Glad not to be introduced?" He asked quietly, and Winnie nodded fervently, shifting under the curious gazes she could sense they were drawing. They were newcomers to a court already established, and she could see several young women eyeing Wolf with undisguised interest. Winnie pretended to be oblivious to the cursory gazes she was receiving from some young noblemen that stood nearby, but from the way Wolf stiffened and gripped her hand tighter, she knew he noticed.
Thankfully, before he could do anything rashly protective, the trumpets blared, their short musical burst calling the court's attention to the large doors positioned just beyond a large staircase.
"Presenting Their Royal Majesties, King Carolos and Queen Arnia!"
As the herald's voice rang out over the assembled nobles, silencing the horns, the massive doors swung open, admitting the reigning monarchs. As one, all the court dropped into curtsies and bows, only rising from the various obsequious poses when the king and queen had traversed the length of the ballroom and taken their place before the throne on the raised dais.
Wincing at the feel of her slippers pinching as she rose from her curtsy—had reasonable footwear ever been an option when attending balls?—Winnie turned expectantly with the rest of the crowd as the trumpets sounding again, drawing every eye to the pair of figures poised within the doorway, looking as if they had just appeared from legend.
"Presenting His Highness, Prince Gregory of Loken, and his intended, Her Highness, Princess Roselyn of Loken!"
While the herald's voice soared above the crowd, he was unable to silence the nearly inaudible whispers that rippled through the nobles at the sight of their new princess, even as they bowed.
Winnie was unable to keep her eyes from her friend as she rose from her curtsey. For a moment, Roselyn looked nothing like the young woman she had known in Satuton, and Winnie felt as if she gazed upon a stranger that carried her friend's features.
Pride at her friend's accomplishments warmed Winifred unexpectedly, and she could not help the smile that rose unbidden to her lips. None of the nobles standing in awe of their new princess, whispering about her beauty and noble stature, would guess that she was the daughter of an innkeeper, once dreaming of dancing in a prince's arms and entertaining fantasies of commanding an entire kingdom.
Unexpected sorrow tempered the pride in her friend's accomplishments, and Winnie blinked. She knew that no matter what happened, Roselyn would not be returning to Satuton. What would happen to Aleinah? Winnie knew that Roselyn's mother would delight in claiming kin in the royal family, but what would she do without her eldest daughter to help run the inn and care for her younger siblings?
Seeming to sense her inner turmoil, Wolf slipped a hand through hers once again, bringing it to his lips. Looking into his warm amber eyes, Winnie felt some of her worry dissipate.
Caught up in each other's gaze, the two did not return to themselves until the musicians began a bright waltz. Blinking and shaking her head slightly, Winnie allowed Wolf to lead her to the dance floor.
Resting comfortably in Wolf's embrace as he led her around the dance floor, Winnie glanced around her, attempting to keep herself from gawking in wide-eyed wonder at the elegance around her. The nobles floated around them, dancing, socializing, many of them grouped around the new princess, eager to meet her.
For a moment, Winnie felt like an imposter, dressed in a noblewoman's clothes, feigning a title and attempting to fit in. With a surge of homesickness that she had not felt since the first night away from Parisa Forest, she wished to be away from the ball, from the glittering room, from the court intrigues she could hear spinning around her, gossip already formulating with the princess' arrival.
She longed to be back in the forest, in a quiet glade where the only noise was the slight babble of a stream or the wind dancing through the leaves as they spun through the air. She wished to hear the soft footfalls of a doe with her fawns, to watch a fox stalk a mouse through the brush, to smell nothing but the pure smells of the woodland, instead of the cloying and jumble of perfumes that seemed to choke her.
Winnie fidgeted slightly, pulling herself out of her memories of her home. Looking up, she found her gaze drawn to Lady Millicent of Hake, looking radiant in a pale green-and-cream gown that complimented both her hair and eyes.
Lady Millicent was watching Prince Gregory dance with his betrothed, gazing at Roselyn's obvious delight with naked hatred and jealousy.
Winnie shivered at the blatant expression of dislike, and as the musicians began a new song, she observed that Gregory whispered something to Roselyn, leaving her at the dais with his parents in order to stride to Millie's side before Roselyn had even given her consent.
A knot of unease began to form in Winnie's chest as she saw Gregory's blue eyes take on a softer, more affectionate glow than she had ever seen him bestow on Roselyn. Millie stepped eagerly into the prince's arms, heedless of the way his intended watched or the way that whispers began anew, the court taking notice of this new development.
The two moved to the center of the ballroom and began to dance, focusing on only each other and ignoring the way the other nobles drew back to give them space. Winnie turned her gaze to Roselyn, gauging her friend for a reaction to her prince's behavior.
Although Roselyn had clearly been taught to behave in court, she had not been yet instructed on how to mask her emotions while in view of others—a skill that would only come after many years spent within the twisting web of court intrigue.
The princess' blue eyes were wide with shock, and she seemed to tremble, clearly troubled by Gregory's actions. She seemed to collect herself after a moment, drawing herself up, raising her chin defiantly before retreating regally to the lesser throne that had been provided for her.
Winnie found her gaze drawn away from her friend's distress—perhaps by Fate. She found herself looking towards the queen, finding that the older woman wore an even more troubled and disturbed look than her future daughter-in-law.
Wolf had stiffened as well, sensing the impending trouble, and Winnie found herself following him wordlessly out into the gardens.
The gardens were infinitely quieter than the noisy ballroom, and the young woman gratefully took in the familiar scents of flowers and trees, following her companion to a quiet bench.
Sinking down, Wolf waited for her to join him and then turned his gaze towards the trees that marked the beginning of the royal hunting grounds, where the prince and king kept game used for sport.
Winnie could see his stiff posture outlined in the moonlight, and she placed a hand on his hard shoulder.
"Wolf?"
Slowly, he relaxed under her soft touch, his shoulders dropping as he exhaled heavily.
"Perhaps we should have not come."
"What?" Winnie stared at him incredulously, surprised by his quiet words. "What do you mean?"
The man's amber eyes were nearly silver in the light of the moon, and Winnie frowned at the sight of his face, set in serious lines, once again looking like an animal that has every right to be wary, sensing danger nearby.
"I told your grandmother I would go with you, to protect you," Wolf told her quietly, "and I know that you feel it is your duty to stay with Roselyn."
"It is," Winnie shot back, "she's my friend! She's getting married!"
Wolf sighed again, shaking his head. "Red, there is more here than just Roselyn's marriage. You saw the scene in there—" he jerked his head in the direction they had just come, indicating the ballroom. "Gregory has not made a decision."
"A decision?" Winnie echoed, confused. What did the prince have to do with it?
Wolf's eyes narrowed, and he was once again tense. "Gregory is torn between Roselyn and Lady Millicent."
Winnie shook her head. "He can't be. He's marrying Roselyn."
"Possibly against his will," Wolf countered. "I did not come here just to watch you become entangled in the court."
As she looked at him, Winnie suddenly discerned why he was so worried. "Do you really believe that?" She whispered, bringing a hand to brush against his cheek, feeling a familiar thrill of pleasure as he leaned into her touch.
"Wolf," she continued, "do you really believe I would fall in love with life here?"
Wolf squirmed uncomfortably, pinned beneath her demanding gaze. "You know I worry about you, Red," he told her huskily, leaning forward with a wicked grin to brush his thumb over her lips, causing her to shiver and distracting her easily.
"I miss home." Winnie's brown eyes were wide with yearning in the moonlight, and Wolf wished fervently that he could take her away in that instant, to use some ancient fairy magic and spirit them home, to the forest where they belonged.
"You would not be content here?" Wolf asked hopefully, drawing her into his arms. She came willingly, curling into his embrace.
Heedless of her carefully styled hair or now-wrinkled dress, Winnie pillowed her temple on his shoulder, shaking her head. "Are you worried that I'll meet some young noble and forget you?" she teased before soberly as Wolf tightened his arms around her, his fingers tracing the curve of her back.
"Nothing would terrify me more," the man answered in a low voice, and Winnie frowned, pleased in a small way that he would admit such a fear so freely, but strangely angered that he would think such of her.
Wolf held himself still, worried by Winnie's silence. Had he offended her by his truthful comment? He knew that if she ever showed interest in any of the young men that had been watching her appreciatively that evening in the ballroom, he would leave for Satuton and never look back. He had nearly lost her once, but if she willingly rejected him for another, he could do nothing about it.
His heart nearly stopped when she pushed herself away from him, and Wolf found her gazing up at him in….amusement?
"Satuton is my home," she told him quietly, a laugh nearly escaping her. "I could never be comfortable here."
Unable to contain his relief, Wolf pressed his lips to hers, a flash of pleasure racing through his veins as she curled into his embrace, wrapping her arms around his neck.
Drawing away, finding her breathing once again shallow, Winnie nestled her head on Wolf's shoulder, listening to his heart beat.
Wolf gave a low chuckle, similar to the one he had voiced earlier that evening and extracted himself from her embrace, standing smoothly. Turning to her, he extended his hand.
"We should return to the ball," he told her, "before I forget myself."
Everything within Winfred rebelled at the idea of returning to the crowded ballroom, and she lifted her pleading gaze to his.
"Can't we just return to my rooms?" She asked quietly, only catching the implication of her words and blushing when Wolf gave a strangled groan and turned a hungry gaze in her direction, his eyes flashing with more heat than she could ever remember seeing.
"Red…" The way Wolf's voice slid over her nickname made her shiver, warm heat rising from her belly to her face, spreading throughout her body.
"I…" Winnie trailed off weakly, but Wolf took her hand with a gentle smile that told her he understood, the heat still present in his amber eyes.
Stepping into her room, Winnie breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of her bed before turning to face Wolf. The man gazed at her hungrily, as if she were the only thing that could sate him.
Blushing, Winnie allowed herself to be drawn into his embrace willingly, automatically wrapping her arms around his neck to bring him closer. It took only a moment of suspended time before his lips were on hers again, soft and warm and urgent with a desire that she had only felt once before, the night that Wolf had proclaimed his love for her.
Claiming her mouth as his own, Wolf left no doubt that he still wanted her, groaning in the back of his throat as she boldly returned his advances. The groan tapered into a possessive growl as Winnie pulled away briefly to press light kisses to his jaw, her breath coming faster as he returned the favor, allowing his lips to brush against the soft skin of her throat.
Pulling away with difficulty, Winnie attempted to breathe deeply, feeling light-headed, her senses full of Wolf and her body humming with a desperate desire. Looking up, she found Wolf gazing over her shoulder, towards her bed. There was a heated question in his gaze as he took in her bedchamber, and his gaze flitted back towards her, gaining a most lustful heat as he brushed the gentle pad of his thumb over her swollen lips.
Winnie hesitated, knowing that he would never press his invitation. The choice was hers alone, but she still paused. There was something wrong with the setting, she decided. It should not be done in this castle, not where she already felt nervous attempting to fit in as a noblewoman.
No, she could only allow him into her bed when she felt perfectly safe. Sighing in disappointment, for she could not deny that the desirous heat beneath her skin caused her mind to grow hazy, every nerve clamoring that she allow Wolf to continue.
Pressing her lips to his cheek in a gentle good-night kiss, Winnie did not miss the disappointment that tempered the heat in Wolf's gaze. Instead, he gave her a wry smile and pressed her hand to his lips.
"Good night, Red," he murmured, turning away towards his own rooms.
Closing the door behind him, Winifred leaned her forehead against the smooth wood and tried to quell her disappointment. Finding herself trembling, she tried to push away the desire that still raged through her body.
"So, that's why you were missing from the ball."
With a yelp of surprise, Winnie whirled around, glaring as she found Roselyn, dressed for bed, watching her with a wicked grin.
"None of your business," she snapped, strangely irritable. Roselyn continued to smirk deviously, looking smug, and Winnie stalked away from her friend to begin undressing, letting the formal gown carelessly fall to the floor in order to don a looser and more comfortable nightgown.
"Why are you here?" Winnie found herself wondering she pulled the nightgown over her head. "Is the ball over?"
"Yes," Roselyn murmured, sounding troubled about something.
"What's wrong?" Winnie turned to her friend, her irrational anger forgotten at the sight of her friend's worried expression.
Biting her lip, Roselyn made her way back into her bedchamber, Winnie padding after her on bare feet, her face drawn into a frown of concern.
"Gregory told me tonight that I must prove myself worthy as a princess," Roselyn said baldly, her chin trembling as she sat on her bed, knotting her hands in her lap in a familiar gesture of nervousness.
"Prove yourself?" Winnie echoed, raising an eyebrow in surprise as the princess nodded towards the maid that hovered nearby, holding a tray with a goblet of wine balanced upon it. The maid set the goblet down on the small table near the princess and left the room at a wave of Roselyn's dismissive hand.
Roselyn made a face as she cradled the fine goblet in her hands, raising her gaze to Winnie's and blushing under her friend's curious stare.
"Gregory told me that it would help me sleep, and make sure that I would not be woken in the night by the strange sounds of the castle," Roselyn explained, her lips tucking into a bashful smile at the thought of her intended.
Suddenly, Roselyn stopped contemplating her wine, and her narrow blue gaze flashed towards Winnie, worry and suspicion crowding her eyes.
"Did you see the way Gregory danced with Lady Millicent?" She asked in a whisper, as if voicing it aloud would confirm her worst fears.
Winnie bit her lip, averting her gaze, unable to stop the images of Millicent's affectionate gaze as Gregory held her, the way the prince seemed more comfortable in her presence, and the way the queen had seemed concerned.
Roselyn seemed to take her friend's silence as agreement, and her eyes took on a shadowed cast, worry and concern lining her face, making her seem older than the girl she was. "He danced with us equally," she murmured, her fingers tightening around the goblet. Her face was full of concern as she glanced up at Winnie, desperate for a reassuring answer. "Should I be worried?"
Supressing her own worry and dodging the question, Winnie asked, "How do you have to prove yourself?"
"Oh." Roselyn sat back, the worry in her eyes morphing into a nervousness that bordered on terror. "Gregory told me that there will be a series of mock councils that I must attend, in order to learn about the kingdom and prove that I can handle power."
Placing a hand on the other woman's cold one, Winnie sought to reassure her. "Of course you know how to handle power. You can rule fairly. You always settled your younger siblings' fights fairly, remember?"
"Perhaps." Roselyn didn't look entirely convinced, but she seemed to contemplate Winnie's encouragement. Yawning, she settled fully into her bed, lifting the goblet of wine to her lips. Finishing it quickly and placing it back on the small table, she blinked at Winnie sleepily, suddenly looking content, as if her fears of moments before had been instantly wiped from her mind.
With a quiet "good night," Winifred retreated to her own room, curling into her bed and refusing to allow herself to think of the extra warmth she would have with Wolf at her side.
Someone was shaking her awake, Winnie realized, reminded of the time Roselyn had woken her for midnight dress fittings. Disturbed by memories of Reynard Manor, she sat up, blinking blurrily at the maid who recoiled instantly, looking abashed and strangely terrified.
"I apologize for waking you, Lady Winifred," the maid babbled, her fear getting the best of her, "but the princess cannot be roused."
Winnie frowned, her sluggish brain slow to comprehend information after a long night with so many things to contemplate.
"Won't wake?" She questioned, and the main shook her head frantically, rushing towards the adjoining door as Winnie swung her legs out of bed and followed slowly.
Making her way into Roselyn's room, Winnie was immediately disturbed by the eerie silence that seemed to hang over it, the peaceful atmosphere of sleep absent.
Something was not right.
Hurrying over to Roselyn's side, Winnie pushed her hair out of her face and peered down at her friend.
The princess lay still in her bed, nearly as a white as the silk sheets beneath her.
Winnie's breath caught at the sight, terror rising within her. Except for the slightest rise and fall of her chest, Roselyn appeared to be dead.
A/N: Reviews are always appreciated!