A/N:
Hi guys! I told you I wouldn't have kept you waiting too long this time, didn't I? This chapter has been quite challenging; the story has reached a fundamental turning point. I hope you'll enjoy it. Let me know what you think!
BEWARE - as I stated in the summary of this story, the rating might level up a bit toward the end of the chapter. Be prepared.
ATTENTION - read only if you don't mind SPOILERS regarding the chapter itself: the following chapter contains explicit sexual allusions
Chapter Eleven: Forbidden love
The news spread faster than expected. All day long, the people of Ecbatana celebrated spontaneously the return of the king, dancing and singing in the streets. Arslan could hear the merrymaking from his private room, where physicians and nurses took care of his injuries. He had allowed himself a few hours of rest, but then he had insisted on meeting the Council and the Court, to reassure them about his conditions. The sun had set for a few hours now, and the Royal Palace was pleasantly quiet.
As soon as he entered his room, Cyrus ordered all his personal servants to leave him alone and don't bother him until the next morning. The nobleman sat down at his desk and closed his eyes, reliving in his mind the events that occurred in the last hours. He had been summoned by the king himself, along with other noble members of the Council and the Court, as trustworthy men, to discuss about what had happened and what should be their next move. Cyrus couldn't believe his plan had failed. He thought he could trust his comrades, but they hadn't been able to get rid of a mere boy. Anger seized him. He opened his eyes and clenched his fists. He needed a new, better plan. He couldn't afford to make another mistake. The nobleman stood up and took a few steps toward the balcony. The night breeze would be helpful to clear his mind. A mischievous grin bent his lips.
The clinking of their armors echoed in the long corridor, disturbing the silence that night had brought to the Palace. The two guards escorted the nurse through the Royal Palace's inner section. Only a limited number of people had access to that wing of the building. A few torches illuminated the corridor with their flames, projecting the trembling shadows of the guards and the young nurse onto the walls. They finally reached the end of the corridor, then turned to their left and crossed a small hall. The ceiling was decorated with gold and plaster, the walls were covered with sheets of colorful marbles and ivory statues were placed next to the large windows, now closed by thick, purple curtains. On the other side of the hall was a large, wooden door, decorated with golden plates on which were carved mythological figures. Two fully armed soldiers were standing on either side of the door, while a young man sat at a nearby desk, reading a scroll.
The king's bedchamber, the nurse thought.
When the three reached the door, the young man raised from his desk and got closer to them.
One of the guards escorting the nurse raised his hand.
«Lord Elam», he greeted him. «We are escorting a nurse sent by His Majesty's personal physician. She is here to provide him with clean bandages», he explained.
«I see», Elam said looking at the tray full of tools the nurse was holding in her hands. He quickly scanned it with his eyes, searching for possible suspicious objects, then he raised his gaze to the girl's face. His eyes widened in shock when her familiar, amber eyes looked back at him.
Elam couldn't believe it. Despite her attire, typical of the nurses serving at Court, a long, short-sleeved white robe tied by a golden sash and a veil covering her hair and back, he had no doubt that that was the Lusitanian girl.
Étoile stared at him intensely, praying he wouldn't do or say anything that would blow up her cover. She tried to stay calm and breathe normally, even though her heart was beating madly. She knew there would have been guards, but she hadn't foreseen Elam's presence. She should have, though. The king had just barely survived an ambush. Obviously, security around him had been intensified. The young man had clearly recognized her and the fact that one of Arslan's closest friends knew she had tried to sneak into his bedroom in the middle of the night was really upsetting her. The whole situation was making her feel equally stupid and embarrassed.
Elam honestly didn't know what to do. He was well aware of the unspoken feelings between the king and the Lusitanian commander. He had been the one who had covered up the sovereign's sudden disappearance during the Moolight Festival. Since that night both the king and Étoile had been acting oddly. Elam knew something had happened, and if that girl had ventured into the royal inner quarters just to meet him, then it had to be something of the utmost importance.
Elam glanced at the guards, then looked back at Étoile. He sighed, grabbing the tray from her hands and placing it on the desk behind his back.
«We need to check for possible hidden weapons», he said, nodding at one of the soldiers guarding the door. The soldier got closer and started analyzing the tools on the tray.
Elam got closer to Étoile.
«Raise your arms», he instructed. Étoile cast him a questioning look.
«I need to make sure you are not carrying any hidden weapons. I'm in charge of checking whoever comes in contact with His Majesty», he explained calmly. Étoile couldn't blame him.
«Of course», the girl said, raising her arms.
Elam tried to make the whole process look less awkward than it was. First of all, he touched her shoulders and arms, then he felt her sides. He deliberately neglected to look for any suspicious objects under her robe. He knew for sure she wasn't armed and even if she was, she wouldn't have hurt the king.
«Lord Elam, I can confirm these are all medical tools», the soldier who was inspecting the tray told him.
«She's clear too», Elam said, turning toward the desk to retrieve the tray. He grabbed it and handed it back to Étoile.
«You», he ordered, pointing at one of the guards who had escorted her in the hall, «You can introduce her to His Majesty».
Étoile felt her heart flutter. For some reason, Elam had decided to play along with her plan. She stared at him for a few seconds. The young man could sense her disbelief. He nodded slightly his head to reassure her.
«You can go», he added.
The soldier standing by the door pushed open the two huge panels of inlaid ebony. Étoile glanced one last time at Elam, then followed the guard through the opened passage.
The room was wide, faintly illuminated by the trembling flames of a few oil lamps. The windows were covered by large, red curtains. The walls were refined with precious marbles and golden plates, while the ceiling was decorated with paintings depicting scenes of mythical tales. On the left were a wooden desk and a chair, both inlaid with golden details. On the other side of the room, a huge shelf held hundreds of books. A pleasant, light scent of incense sweetened the air.
«This way», the guard whispered.
Étoile moved her gaze back in front of her. The soldier was standing by two large purple curtains that divided the room into two parts. As the girl got closer, the guard moved the cloth revealing the inner, most private section of the royal chamber.
Even in the dim light provided by the few oil lamps, Étoile could distinguish the precious golden plaster panels decorating the walls with geometric patterns and the elegantly inlaid wooden ceiling. On the left was a small desk on top of which rested a few books, a jug and a silver goblet. On the other side of the room were two stools and another low, round table.
In the middle, was the king's large inlaid wooden bed. Arslan was laying there on silky, purple sheets, resting his back against some cushions, reading intently a scroll.
Étoile felt dizzy again. It was that same feeling that had seized her that very morning in the square, when she had seen him coming back to the city safe and sound. The king was wearing dark pants and a loose, long-sleeved red robe with golden embroideries. A white bandage covered part of his bare, toned torso. His right forearm and ankle were bandaged too. His silver hair was now perfectly combed, the bruises on his face had been treated and so had been the wound on his forehead.
When the guard and Étoile entered the room, Arslan dropped the scroll and turned his attention to them.
«Your Majesty», the soldier greeted him bowing. «Your personal physician has sent this nurse in case your bandages need cleaning», he explained. Arslan barely nodded, before setting his eyes on the girl. His heart skipped a beat.
For a moment he thought he was dreaming, but those amber eyes were unmistakable. Arslan had to fight the urge to jump off the bed and rush to her. Étoile was staring at him intensely, internally fighting the same battle that was tearing him apart. Finally, Arslan regained enough self-control to speak.
«Yes, thank you», he told the soldier. «I think I'll need help», he added raising his forearm and showing them his pinkish bandages. The soldier bowed again and turned around to leave.
«Wait!», Arslan called him.
«Majesty?», the soldier asked turning back.
«Please tell the physician I won't need any other treatment for tonight. I'm exhausted and I wish to rest now. I will send for him when I will need his help», Arslan stated. Étoile felt a bit flustered. Arslan was clearly saying he didn't want to be disturbed for the rest of the night, and the implications behind his words were making her heart beat frantically.
«Of course, Your Majesty!», the soldier said. He bowed once more, then disappeared beyond the curtains. Arslan and Étoile stayed motionless, staring at each other, while the soldier's footsteps echoed in the other half of the room. Then he left, closing the door behind his back with a loud thud. Silence filled the air.
Arslan and Étoile kept staring at each other for a few seconds, still unwilling to believe they were at last together and alone. When he finally realized it, Arslan grinned blissfully and moved to stand up, but Étoile immediately stopped him.
«Don't», she told him raising her arm. Arslan stopped and his smile faded instantly.
«Étoile…», he called her quietly, sitting back on his bed.
«Don't move», the young woman insisted. Arslan cast her a questioning look. She took a deep breath, then she walked quietly toward him. Arslan followed her with his eyes. She put the tray she was still holding on the bedside table, then she took off the veil she was wearing, dropping it on the floor. Her untied, long, blonde hair seemed to reflect the golden decorations on the walls. Étoile grabbed a shred of white, clean bandage and a damp cloth from the tray, then she sat on the bed, right in front of Arslan. She grabbed his right forearm and started removing his bandages. Arslan looked at her without saying anything. Surprisingly, the warm touch of her hands on his arm was enough for him. Having her that close again was making him feel truly alive for the first time since he had come back from the battle.
Étoile finished removing the pinkish bandages. His wound wasn't very deep thankfully. She grabbed the damp cloth and rubbed it gently over the injury to clean it from any traces of dried blood. Once the wound was clean, the Lusitanian girl took the clean bandage and started wrapping it around the king's forearm. Arslan's chuckled slightly. Étoile looked at him, raising an eyebrow.
«What's wrong?», she whispered.
«You've become good at this», Arslan said. Étoile knew what he was referring to. Years earlier, when they were travelling together toward Ecbatana after the battle at the Keep of Saint Emmanuel, Étoile had offered to take care of the wounded among the Lusitanian soldiers. However, Elam had had to step in and offer his help since the young girl had no experience whatsoever in the matter.
«I had the chance to practice a lot… back home», she told him bitterly. Arslan felt guilty for making her remember her wrecked homeland.
«I see… I'm sorry», he whispered quietly. Étoile kept wrapping accurately the bandage around his arm without replying.
«How did you manage to get in here?», Arslan suddenly asked. Étoile darted a glance at him.
«You must be joking», she answered, sounding almost offended. «I managed to enlist in the army and pretend I was a boy for years. Stealing a robe and convincing a couple of guards I was a nurse wasn't that much of an effort. Besides…», she added, looking away as a fair blush colored her cheeks, «That friend of yours … Elam… he turned a blind eye…»
Arslan glanced unconsciously at the door, mentally thanking the young man.
«There you go», Etoile finally said, tying the bandage.
«Thanks», Arslan replied smiling. Étoile hinted a shy smile. She was about to stand up, but the king moved faster and grabbed her hands before she could withdraw them.
A few minutes passed in silence, with the two of them staring at each other, holding their hands. Étoile was feeling more and more nervous. Arslan's blue eyes were transfixing. The warmth of his hands on hers was rousing in her chest sensations she had tried to suffocate since she had seen him that morning. She had been the one to look for him. She had been the one to sneak into his room at nighttime. Now that she was there, in front of him, sitting on his own bed, actually touching him, she realized she had no idea what to do or what to say. Rather, she realized she was too frightened to even consider the possibility of obeying what her heart was telling her to do. Her pulse accelerated.
«Arslan…», she whispered unconsciously.
«Would you really have left like that?», Arslan asked her all of a sudden. Étoile looked at him surprised. Her heartbeat slowed down.
«What?», she replied.
«You heard me. I've been told you were planning to leave the moment I departed from the city. You hadn't told me anything about it», he added in a sad tone.
«I had no other choice», Étoile said, finally withdrawing her hands and looking away.
«No other choice? You could have talked to me…», he retorted. Étoile chuckled sarcastically.
«You don't understand…», she said shaking her head.
«I do understand», he told her moving on the bed to sit closer to her. «It has to do with what happened that night, am I right?»
The Lusitanian girl immediately stopped laughing. The memories came back to her in an instant and the emotions she experienced during their first kiss flowed intensely through her. The sensation of Arslan's lips on hers, of his warm body pressing against her, of his hands on her back, felt almost real. Étoile pressed her lips together in frustration.
«Why do you keep running away from that? From me?», Arslan asked her, reaching for her hands again. His sorrowful tone hurt Étoile, but she stayed quiet, still not daring to look at him. She knew that if she had, she would have been lost in those blue eyes of his.
«Étoile?»
The girl didn't move. Arslan sighed and lowered his gaze as well. He took a deep breath, then spoke again. «Listen… if you fear I'll try to force you into something you don't want then-»
Étoile didn't even let him finish the sentence. She looked straight into his eyes, grabbed the collar of his robe and leaned in to kiss him. Arslan kissed her back immediately. He put his arms around her waist and drew her closer to him as the girl moved her hands to his neck and face. There was something equally passionate and desperate in the way their lips melted together in the kiss and her hands cupped his face when his dropped to her hips.
Étoile was the first to withdraw. She caressed his cheek with her thumb, looking at him with half-closed eyes. Arslan pecked her on her lips before resting his forehead against hers.
«I'm not scared of you Arslan…», she told him. The sadness in her voice made Arslan's heart clench. «I'm scared of myself. Of my own feelings. I'm not running away from you, I'm running away from myself. But I can't. I tried and then all this happened and… I was ready to leave but I didn't go anywhere…», Étoile whispered, keeping her gaze low.
Arslan could sense all her discomfort. The pained expression depicted on her face was hurting him too. He was glad she was finally talking to him, but he didn't know what to do or say to make her feel better. Étoile wiggled out of Arslan's embrace and got up. She took a few steps toward the richly decorated walls, rubbing a hand over her face.
«After all,… I'm still here», she said, as if she was realizing the meaning of her own words in that very moment.
The Lusitanian girl leaned against the nearby desk, turning her back on Arslan. She was too embarrassed and overwhelmed by her own feelings to even face him.
Arslan looked at her. How could he have not realized it? Her bitterness, her hostility, her distance… she wasn't rejecting him. She was consumed by her own inner conflict.
That strong, brave, beautiful girl standing a few meters from him, in the dim light of his bedroom, had just as good as confessed that her heart belonged to him. For the past few days that had been the only thing he had dreamt of, but now that he finally got what he had longed for, the feeling wasn't as satisfying as he had expected. Étoile wasn't just a gorgeous young woman, she was also a Commander of the Lusitanian army and a firm believer in the Faith of Yaldabaoth. And he was Arslan, King of Pars. Acknowledging her feelings for him meant going against her duties as a knight and her beliefs as a follower of her religion. He had been selfish. He had wanted her to be with him without considering what would have costed her and he was feeling guilty. But he could still fix things.
Arslan stood up and opened the upper drawer of his bedside table. Among books and some sheets of paper, was a small bundle of blue cloth. He took it and closed the drawer. The young man breathed deeply, then unfolded the bundle. Inside was the wooden cross of Yaldabaoth that Étoile had left in the Temple of Mithra the night before. Farangis had given it to him that afternoon, telling him about how the girl had offered it at the base of the huge statue of the god. She had given up such an important part of herself for his sake, he thought. He couldn't allow it.
Arslan smiled bitterly, walking slowly toward her. Étoile stiffened when she felt him moving behind her.
«From the moment you came back into my life, I've been asking myself how could I live until then without even knowing if you were safe or not, if you were healthy, if you had a place to stay. It's unbelievable how distant we were and now I can't imagine my life without you», he said quietly.
Étoile felt a shiver running down her spine. She closed her eyes and bit her lower lip to try to suppress her nervousness. «Your smile is enough to brighten my mood, being with you makes me feel like I've never felt before», he carried on getting closer to her. «I won't deny that I wish you hadn't run away that night, but I can't stand seeing you like this», he confessed, reaching out to gently touch her back. Étoile couldn't help but quiver at the sensation of his fingers brushing over the thin fabric of her robe. His hand moved to her arm, then slid down along her forearm up to her hand. Arslan held it firmly, tugging gently until Étoile finally turned around to face him. For a moment, they got lost into each other's eyes, but both were brought back to reality when Arslan placed the wooden cross in Étoile's hand. The Lusitanian girl lowered her gaze to the necklace, then looked back at Arslan with wide, questioning eyes. Arslan smiled gently at her.
«I know how much it means to you. I don't want you to give up such an important part of your life. You're valiant, brilliant, beautiful, just the way you are. If you were to leave behind something of yourself, be it value or flaw, then you wouldn't be the brave knight and gorgeous woman that you are», the young man told her placing his hand on her cheek. «I would never ask you to choose between me and your faith… even if it means you'll never be mine», he added glancing at her lips, before getting lost in her amber eyes again.
Étoile was speechless. Tears filled her eyes as a soft smile bent her lips.
Arslan's words touched her. He hadn't changed after all. The well-being of the ones surrounding him came first. His feelings for her didn't matter to him now, he was willing to give her up to let her be happy. She could see in his deep, blue eyes how much pain his own words had caused him. She was supposed to feel grateful, but the mere thought of leaving him made her suffer.
Why should she leave him, though? Arslan was kind, honest and generous. He embodied the values of every good, just men and for the first time she realized that sacrificing her cross for him hadn't been that difficult after all.
Étoile raised her hand and laid it on top of his own, still resting on her face. She squeezed it and pulled it down slowly. A tender smile bent her lips.
«How do you do it?», she whispered placing her wooden cross back into his hand. «How can you change people just by being you?», she wondered looking gently at him. «You have the amazing power to make everything I've always thought was wrong feel right».
The Lusitanian girl closed his fingers around the wooden cross and squeezed his hands with hers. «I'm not giving anything up», she said staring intensely into his eyes again. «I don't have to choose. If there is someone I feel I can trust completely… and I can truly be myself with, that's you. You are the only one, Arslan».
He meant what he had said earlier. Arslan was sincerely willing to step aside and let Étoile live her life without him, but she wasn't making it easy. Quite the opposite. She had just given him back the object with which he had meant to release her, and her words kept repeating in his mind. Part of him still feared he had misunderstood their meaning, but the glint in Étoile's amber eyes as she glanced at his lips had roused a burning feeling inside his chest that dispelled any doubts.
Arslan leaned in and kissed her passionately. He raised a hand to stroke her cheek while the other rested on her back, pulling her closer. Étoile kissed him back with equal ardor. Her hands cupped his face and as the kiss grew more intense she slid them along his neck and shoulders. Without breaking contact with her lips, Arslan dropped the wooden necklace on the desk behind them. His arms went around her waist, squeezing her. They parted for a moment to catch their breath before melting into each other once again.
Everything else was forgotten. His kingship, her knighthood and faith seemed to matter no more, as her hands caressed the bare, hot skin of his chest and their tongues danced together.
Arslan felt almost dizzy. He still found it difficult to believe that what was happening was not another one of his dreams. He smiled unconsciously. Even if it had been a dream, in that moment, he wouldn't have cared less.
In the wave of passion, Arslan left Étoile's mouth to place a kiss behind her ear. The girl couldn't hold back a soft moan. A fair blush colored her cheeks as she had to bite her lower lip to smother other, louder moans when Arslan started kissing her down her neck.
Étoile's senses had long since been lost under the touch of his lips and his hands. She felt the heat of his fingers as he stroked her face or when his hands grabbed her waist to draw her closer to him. All she could hear were their panting breaths. All she could see were his deep, blue, beautiful eyes. The sweet, musky scent of his skin inebriated her.
Arslan moved from her neck to her lips again and kissed her fiercely, running his fingers through her long, untied hair.
They parted for a few seconds to catch their breath. Étoile was holding onto his robe while Arslan's arms were still around her waist. The young man took a moment to look at her. She was panting heavily, lips slightly apart, a fair blush covered her cheeks and her amber eyes shone in the dim light. Arslan's gaze lowered and his face flushed a bit when he realized that the thin fabric of her robe had slipped down exposing her collarbone and shoulder.
Étoile could sense his burning look on her bare skin, but she did nothing to avoid it. She had accepted her womanhood a long time ago and she was now proud to be a girl, but she had never seen herself as someone who could be physically attractive, let alone seductive. Yet there was something in the way Arslan was looking at her that night that was making her think otherwise.
Arslan pecked her on her lips, gazed at her for a moment, then took her hand and led her to his bed. Étoile felt her heart beat madly as a burst of heat rose from her chest, but she followed him without saying a word. Arslan sat down, pulling Étoile on top of him to sit astride his lap. He closed his hands around her hips as hers rested on his shoulders. They stared intensely into each other eyes for a few moments. They had never been that intimate before. The fair blush on their cheeks showed their embarrassment, but neither of them wanted to withdraw.
Arslan leaned in and kissed her softly to release the tension. Étoile's hands moved to his face, stroking gently his scratched skin, then she moved her fingers down to his neck and to his chest. She allowed herself to feel the toned muscles of his torso. Her hands went upward to his shoulders as she kissed him deeply. His bare skin was burning under her touch.
Arslan parted from her to take off his robe and abandoned it on the floor. Now that he was completely bare-chested, apart from the bandages that covered the middle section of his torso, Étoile could fully appreciate how much he had grown up in the past few years. His broad shoulders and his muscular arms were ones of a true warrior.
Arslan hugged the girl's waist and drew her closer, placing a soft kiss on her neck. Étoile took a deep breath as he moved to kiss her collarbone, savoring the sweet taste of her skin. Her fingers intertwined with his silver hair and out of the corner of her eye she saw his hand lifting her robe and caressing her leg. His fingers kept moving upward up to her thigh as his kisses became more and more passionate. Étoile cupped his face with her hands and forced him to look up at her before kissing him fiercely. A wave of heat rose from his stomach, sending sparkles to his chest as a new, unknown mixed feeling of need and desire seized his heart.
Arslan grabbed the front hems of her robe and pulled it open, letting it slip down her shoulders. The young man sensed Étoile's confidence falter in the kiss. He stopped and looked at her. A fair blush covered her cheeks. Her robe was hanging at her arms, barely covering her breasts. In the dim light of the room the bare skin of her chest seemed to glimmer.
Étoile felt his burning gaze on her again. She had never been that exposed with anyone before. She did feel a bit embarrassed, but that wasn't all. She was starting to take pride in the way Arslan stared at her, the way he looked completely enraptured by her eyes and she found extremely satisfying how easily he got enchanted by her appearance. Feeling confident again, she let her robe slip down, exposing her naked chest as she leaned in to taste his lips again. Arslan embraced her and kissed her back, running his fingers through her long, blonde hair. As the kiss became more and more passionate, Étoile threw her arms around his neck, pressing her body against his. The young man arched his back to maintain his balance, but the sudden movement caused the wound on his chest to ache awfully. Arslan broke the kiss and muffled a pained groan against the crook of Étoile's neck. The Lusitanian girl lowered her gaze on his torso and glimpsed a small, reddish stain on the white bandages. She felt terribly guilty.
«I-I'm sorry», she stuttered, speaking for the first time since their earlier conversation.
«Don't», he murmured kissing her neck.
«Your wounds…Arslan…wait…», Étoile said reluctantly, trying to concentrate as his hands caressed the bare skin of her back, «You need rest».
«No», he whispered in a hoarse tone that sent shivers down her spine. Arslan moved his lips to her mouth and kissed her passionately before gazing longingly at her. He grabbed her thigh and put his other arm around her waist, then he pushed her down on the bed, lying on top of her.
«I need you…Estelle».
Something inside the girl's heart irremediably melted.
What happened next was an overwhelming burst of feelings and passion. Every gaze, every kiss, every touch was an intense gesture of pure love. For that night, all their responsibilities were forgotten, just like their clothes laid abandoned on the floor. There was no king nor knight, just a young man and a young woman, becoming one in their ardent, forbidden, scandalous desire.
A/N: the heart can't be ruled.
Stay tuned to find out what new challenges await these two star-crossed lovers.
Thanks for reading and following this story so far.
- Kiara