"No way, you can't back out now." Tyrea shook her head vehemently and plopped down onto Melia's bed next to her sister. "You're the one who suggested we go in the first place!"
"After this afternoon, I need to prepare for tomorrow's session." Melia rubbed her temples, the memory of her failed argument with Maurice still fresh in her mind. She didn't have any idea of how to begin crafting a strategy, much less broaching the subject of her father's non-negotiable directive with the Homs. And with Zain observing the proceedings, finding some sort of alternative compromise appeared impossible.
"What happened?"
"It doesn't matter. But Zain has informed me that father wants us to return to Alcamoth the day after tomorrow."
"What?" Tyrea exclaimed, "You're kidding."
This time it was Melia's turn to shake her head. "I am just as surprised as you are. He did not mention it this morning in our conversation."
"That's fucking ridiculous."
"Tyrea!"
"What?" She snapped and rose. Clenching her hands into fists, she began to pace around the room. "He's your father! Why would he tell his lackey over you? It's like he's trying to undermine you or something! Ugh!"
Melia averted her eyes, still rubbing her temples. She most certainly could not share with Tyrea the truth of the matter.
"It's of no consequence. We will leave, and so I must conclude the negotiations tomorrow. To do that though, I need to be rested and ready. Which means I cannot go with you tonight." It was a true statement. But the princess also couldn't bring herself to go because she feared a potential backlash from Maurice...and her father. If the Emperor learned of it, Melia had no doubt that he would discipline her further.
"I'm hereeee!" Fiora sang as she sashayed into Melia's room. "Oh wow, I didn't realize how big the guest room was. It's bigger than my room!"
"Fiora, I'm so sorry, I was not aware." Melia jumped up from the bed. "I am happy to switch."
"Oh my gosh, don't worry about it. If I decide I want to change rooms, I'll tell you. But right now, we have to get ready." She tossed a few garments onto the bed.
"Melia is trying to back out." Tyrea sniffed and began examining the clothes.
Fiora gaped at Melia, who winced. "No way. Not after all the trouble I went to!"
"I apologize, Fiora, but you and Tyrea should still enjoy the evening." A pang of guilt reverberated through her. It's not as though she didn't wish to go, she just knew it would be unwise. She wished she had Tyrea's penchant for rebellion.
"Can I at least show you the costume I got for you?" Fiora begged.
"Costumes?" Tyrea raised an eyebrow.
"I convinced the club owners to have a costume party, that way, people won't really think twice about your wings. They sent out an announcement to the whole city and everyone I know is excited." Fiora separated the garments so the High Entia could see them fully. "Anyway, look at what I found. We're all pretty much the same size so I figure we just take whichever one we want."
"I'm still—"
"Melia. Don't waffle. You want to go. Stop thinking about your father and your duties and all that bullshit. Obviously, something is wrong and you won't talk about it, but you can't do anything about it right now, so let's just go have some harmless fun, alright?" Tyrea growled, planting her hands on her hips and squinting at her sister.
"That is unfair." Melia returned Tyrea's glower with a grimace.
"Is it working?" Fiora asked, tilting her head to the side, eyes watching Melia intently with hope.
Shrugging, she responded, "I am not agreeing to go yet. But I would like to see."
"Yay! I thought we could go as Charlie's Angels."
"Who are they?"
"They're spies that work together. Save the world and stuff."
Melia examined the costumes: they were all latex jumpsuits. Melia's eyes widened as Tyrea held up the green jumpsuit to Fiora. "You want us to wear this? "
"What? I tried to be creative so we wouldn't have to go as sexy nurses or firefighters."
"Those were alternatives?" Melia gaped.
Tyrea laughed. "I think you broke my sister."
"People truly wear these? In public?" Melia hesitantly grabbed the red latex jumpsuit and examined it. It appeared that the only way to put it on was to unzip the zipper in the front and step in, then zip it back up. The zipper was situated so it ran from the abdomen of the jumpsuit up the chest, all the way to the neck.
"If you come to the club, you'll see people in way more scandalous outfits. These are pretty tame but still sexy." Fiora winked.
Melia felt her face flame. Sexy was not something she considered herself, and wearing sexy clothes in public was most definitely out of the question.
Tyrea plucked the black jumpsuit from the bed. "It's my signature color." She sauntered into Melia's bathroom and shut the door.
Melia eyed the remaining two: green and red.
"Do you have a preference?" Fiora inquired, looking from one to the other.
"I won't be going so please take whichever you like." Melia stepped backward and crossed her arms in front of her as if she were defending herself from the garments themselves.
"I'm sorry, these make you uncomfortable. I should've gotten something else." Fiora frowned.
"No no no, Fiora. I mean, the costumes are a little extreme for myself, but I truly can't attend this evening due to negotiation preparation. It has nothing to do with you."
"Alright…" Dejected, Fiora collected the green bodysuit.
The bathroom door opened and Tyrea stepped out. "I think I look good if I do say so myself." She flipped her hair over her shoulder and smirked.
Melia couldn't argue with that. It was as though the body suit was made for Tyrea, the way it fit around the curves and lines of her body perfectly. Too snug in her opinion, but Tyrea had the confidence to wear such an outfit, unapologetic of who she was and assured in how she looked. Definitely the opposite of Melia.
"Whoa. You look amazing! Let me change, put on some makeup, and we can head out." Fiora slipped by Tyrea into the bathroom.
The door shut and Tyrea walked over to Melia. "You're not coming, are you?"
Melia shook her head.
"I can't convince you otherwise?"
"Not this time."
"Well, maybe Dunban will be back soon and the two of you can spend some time together." Tyrea raised her eyebrows suggestively.
The princess restrained herself from face-palming. "The BLADE council is discussing a treaty with the Nopon this evening. And Elma arranged for Zain to have dinner with one of their division leaders, a man named Doug. So I believe I'll be on my own, which suits me just fine."
It was true. She was looking forward to peace and quiet; to the opportunity to relax and not need to maintain a facade for others. Perhaps she'd have some wine, take a bath, and head to bed early.
"Why did Elma do that?"
"I think she knows these negotiations are difficult and is trying to find a way to help smooth things over between our peoples. She believes that Zain and Doug will spend their evening exchanging war stories, which, given Zain's inclination for telling his stories, I believe is a smart move."
The bathroom door opened and Fiora skipped out, the green jumpsuit also flattering her figure. The color also brought out the green in her eyes, and she radiated joy and enthusiasm. "Ready?"
"Absolutely."
"Wait one moment." Melia dug into her luggage and pulled out her wand. Closing her eyes, she summoned a ball of ether in her mind and whispered a spell. Warm from the magic, she opened her eyes and waved the wand around Tyrea's head.
"What did you do?"
"A protection spell. That's all. I just want you to be safe tonight." Looking away, the princess stowed the wand back into her suitcase.
"Oh...um great," Tyrea shifted from side to side. Melia smiled; it was Tyrea's version of thanking her.
"Have fun you two."
"Don't worry, we will." Tyrea winked. "First order of business is to make sure that Shulk sees Fiora."
"What!?" Fiora exclaimed.
Laughing, Tyrea pushed Fiora out of Melia's room and shut the door.
As the sounds of their voices drifted away, Melia felt her body sag in exhaustion. Eying the bed, she unceremoniously collapsed onto it and rolled onto her side. Shutting her eyes, the young woman attempted to clear her mind and block out the seemingly insurmountable challenges she faced. All she wanted was some quiet, some relief from the constant stress and pressure. Which is why she had wanted to go dancing in the first place.
Opening her eyes, she found herself looking at the discarded red jumpsuit. How could anyone in their right mind...well obviously Tyrea and Fiora. She was envious of them both, not giving it a second thought. And of course all eyes would be on them, well, that is Fiora. Melia hadn't exactly put a protection spell on Tyrea, more of a spell that would cause people to overlook her and essentially forget she had ever been there. If Tyrea found out what Melia had done, there was no doubt in Melia's mind that she would be furious. But the princess had to put negotiations first. It was enough that she allowing Tyrea to go to the club. Besides, the consolation was that the spell would not affect their friends. And Melia had put another exception in the spell: Eleaonora. So she didn't feel terrible.
The jumpsuit shined in the overhead light, taunting Melia. She could put it on. No one was around to see. No one would ever know.
Sitting up, the young woman took the garment in her hands, feeling its strange texture between her fingers. What was the harm in indulging herself?
Jumping off the bed, Melia shimmied out of her clothes and unzipped the jumpsuit. Carefully, she stepped into it and zipped it all the way up. Hesitant, she stepped in front of the mirror.
"Wow…" she whispered.
She turned from side to side, scrutinizing the jumpsuit on her skin. It was a tight fit, but not uncomfortable; it was as if she was wearing a second skin. And the red was more than eye-catching. It was irresistible. Empowering.
Melia loved it.
If only Tyrea could see it. Or her stepmother. Or Dunban.
A thrill rippled down her spine at the prospect. There was no chance it would happen, but her imagination ran wild with all sorts of scenarios, most in which he was flustered and drawn to her like a moth to a flame. He wouldn't be able to take his eyes off of her, possibly unable to keep his hands off of her either.
Warmth pooled out of her core and seeped into the lower half of her body. A rosy blush began to appear on her cheeks. She wanted to know what his touch would feel like in circumstances other than battle and the casual graze.
An itching sensation arose around her neck and she pulled the zipper of the jumpsuit down to her collarbone. The reveal of her skin caused her to suck in her breath. She ran the tips of her fingers over the exposed patch. Never in all her life would she have pictured herself at this moment. It was unimaginable freedom come to life.
Euphoric, Melia grabbed her tablet and clicked through her music library. Earlier, she'd discovered how to connect to the home's sound system for Tyrea's benefit, but now it would be for hers. She would still dance, just alone. Which the princess had no issue with.
She picked a pop tune. The song broke the silence and filled the air. A grin spread over Melia's face and she exhaled the tension in her muscles. With each beat, she felt herself let go, finding the rhythm and moving her body to it. Years of dance training had taught her body awareness and technique, but now was not the time for choreographed movements. It was for feeling the music, savoring her bliss, and using her body to express herself in any way she wished to.
Even though all she was doing was dancing in a home, alone, in a provocative outfit, Melia felt reckless. And as long as she didn't take this attitude outside, she would indulge herself, just this once.
So she spun out of her room and glided through the hallways towards the kitchen. The song had changed, but she didn't stop moving to the beat as she searched. Finally, she pulled out the bottle of wine. A gift from Elma and Melia was ready to spoil herself.
Still, Melia danced in time with the melody but went about opening the bottle and pouring herself a glass — though tempting, she would allow herself to drink from the bottle; she felt reckless but she wasn't a savage. She took a sip and set the glass on the counter, then twirled back into the center of the room and resumed her solo.
The music filled her ears and her blood thumped with the rhythm. This was what she needed. And it was perfect.
Giggling, she set up for a spin and executed a flawless pirouette, following through with the appropriate, graceful end pose.
"Melia?"
She froze in place.
No no no.
Cringing, she turned to see Dunban standing at the front door staring at her in a red jumpsuit.
As much as Dunban liked Riki, the fact that he needed to participate in treaty negotiation with the Nopon was the last thing he wanted to do. He could barely stand to be in the same room as Maurice, and without Vandham and Elma's pleas for him to stay, he would have left, but not before punching the man's lights out.
He was furious about how Maurice had attacked Melia that afternoon. And he was even angrier that Maurice attempted to damage his credibility when the prick implied that his feelings for Melia were clouding his judgment. The man was a prejudiced, egotistical moron and Dunban would not stand for his insulting behavior anymore.
Worse though was that he had no idea what Melia's reaction was. He felt a shade embarrassed by the whole thing, more angry than embarrassed, but embarrassed nonetheless. Had she been embarrassed by his reactions to Maurice? Or Maurice's supposition? Or the lack of unity presented in the BLADE leadership?
When he noticed she wanted to speak to him after Nagi had adjourned the meeting, he could only think of getting space. The last thing Dunban wanted was for Melia to see him angry. Because any bit of anger he indulged was only a gateway to the deep-seated rage he buried in his soul.
All of this and more swirled around in Dunban's mind. Elma had asked him a few questions, and despite his inability to pay attention, he provided some sort of generic answers that kept the conversation moving. Though the others couldn't tell, the man knew Elma saw right through him. So she dismissed him under the pretense that he needed to return to the infirmary.
Upon leaving, he pulled out his communicator and quickly typed out a message to her: Thank you.
She responded: Anytime. Just get some rest.
He replied: That's the plan.
Stuffing the handheld device in his pocket, the man stepped into the elevator and the doors slid closed. Minutes later, he was exiting the BLADE tower into the humid air.
Normally, he would go to the shooting range to blow off steam, but with his arm acting up, he didn't want to make a potential problem worse. Another option would be to take a cruiser out, but he didn't want to run into some angry beasts. But he needed to get away.
He'd return home, grab a drink, and head to his spot.
Powering down the BLADE concourse, Dunban headed for his jeep.
"Dunban!"
He stopped and closed his eyes, frustration silently escaping his mouth. Clearing his throat, he opened his eyes and turned, already knowing who the voice belonged to. Vanea swished her hips from side to side as she strolled towards him. "I thought that was you."
"Just heading home for the day."
"Do you want to get dinner? I pulled a long shift and would love someone to talk to me about anything other than medicine."
Inwardly he grimaced. His and Vanea's relationship had been on and off the past two years, but he knew that she had started envisioning that their relationship would be for the long term. He didn't feel the same and ended things six months prior to their arrival on Mira. They were still friendly, and he did enjoy Vanea's company. But he couldn't give her false hope, as he suspected that she thought that she could change his mind, especially considering her appearance at his new home the previous day.
"I'm sorry, Vanea. I'm dead tired. I just want to head to bed."
"Of course, I totally understand," She squeezed his right shoulder. "But I did want to ask how your arm was doing. You left rather quickly yesterday after Linada patched you up."
"It's not quite working, but she said to give it a few days."
"Well, if I can help, let me know."
"Sure." He tucked his hands into his pockets. " I'll check in with you later."
"Sounds good." She smiled.
He waved and walked away, still feeling her eyes on him. As he jumped into his car and turned on the ignition, he felt a wave of guilt crash over him. It had never been his intention for their relationship to be anything but casual. They had found each other due to their shared grief and loneliness arising from the destruction of their world. Never had he thought their association was anything more than a distraction from the oppressive hopelessness that had become their lives, but she clearly had. And Dunban knew Vanea was a wonderful woman. Anyone who wanted to engage in a romantic relationship with her would be lucky, but that person was not him.
The engine hummed to life and he put the car in gear, zooming home. His mind hummed as he pulled away from the tower and merged onto the road to the residential district. If anything, he was thinking of his conversation with Melia in the car that morning before negotiations. Primarily, the man had been thrilled to hear she was not offended by his remarks from the previous day (he was loath to admit it, but it had been on his mind). But that had quickly been overshadowed by the revelation that her father was using this trip to embarrass her. Dunban had understood Emperor Soren to be a strict man. But to embarrass his daughter in such a public way blew his mind.
Minutes later, he pulled into the driveway of the home. Shutting off the ignition, he cocked his head to the side. Did he hear...bass? He had received a text from Fiora earlier about heading out to the club, which he assumed was with Tyrea and surprisingly Melia since Fiora had written: we are heading out. But who could be playing bass then in the house? Definitely not Zain. Curious, he jumped out of the car and opened the front door.
A pop song echoed off the walls. It wasn't like anything he had heard before.
Then he saw her. She was dancing; twirling; gliding; lost in the sound. He couldn't keep his eyes off of her, the way she moved, as if the music were apart of her and she was a part of it. Her body sang in time with the rhythm, entrancing him. Melia looked so...free. So unencumbered. He'd never seen her like this. And it didn't help that what she wore warmed his blood.
Clearing his throat, he called out to her. "Melia?"
She stopped abruptly. He could see her body freeze in response to his voice. Although the music continued to thump around them, he could see all traces of pleasure drain away from her. Guilt coursed through him and Melia turned, meeting his eyes, flustered.
"I didn't know you were still here." He walked forward, trying to be casual.
She grabbed her tablet from the kitchen counter, silencing the music.
"I'm sorry?" Her voice came out soft, breathy and he resisted the urge to close the distance between them and touch her cheek.
"I said I didn't know you were still home. I thought you had gone with Fiora and Tyrea."
"I did not believe it appropriate to spend my time in such a way this evening." She cleared her throat and clasped her hands in front of her.
"I see."
"I realize the irony of my words given the scene." Melia twitched her nose back and forth and averted her gaze.
"You said it, not me," Dunban grinned. But she did not look up.
"I thought you would be still at the discussions with the Nopon."
"I was...distracted and had an appropriate excuse to leave. Riki is in good hands with Elma."
"That is very true," Melia met his eyes with a neutral expression. Her cheeks were flushed, and her hair slightly frizzy; a stark contrast to her usual put-together manner. But it only made her more enticing. Dunban's mind started to wander from what she was thinking about to what her lips felt like.
"I apologize, Dunban. The display...this was not meant to be seen by anyone else."
"You don't need to apologize, Melia. I want you to feel like you can relax here. I just didn't know I was interrupting."
She nodded but did not respond.
Dunban's eyes flicked to the kitchen counter where the open bottle of wine and glass were. "Care if I join you?"
"No, not at all. Please."
He strode over and picked a glass out and poured himself one. Tentatively, she walked towards her own and grasped it — with fervor he noticed — and took a sip.
"I'd ask how you're feeling after this afternoon's session, but I think I have an idea." He mused.
"How do you mean?" She set her glass back on the counter and twirled it between her fingers.
"I don't know about you but I want to punch Maurice's lights out."
Melia gasped and looked at him wide-eyed. Dunban waited. He wasn't going to take it back. And he was curious to see her reaction.
A moment passed and she brought her glass to her lips once more. After sipping, she said, "Not the words I would have chosen, but I do wish he would no longer participate."
"I'm glad you agree."
"How could I not? He makes himself so unlikeable."
"I think he's trying for an award." She laughed and he felt himself smile. "How are you, otherwise?"
Melia swirled the liquid in her glass. "Apparently my father wishes for me to return to Alcamoth the day after tomorrow."
His heart dropped into his stomach. "What?" Dunban stared.
"Zain shared this with me after this afternoon's session," she continued, taking a big drink from her glass and setting it back on the counter. "And he threatened to tell my father if I didn't broach the topic of the Lifehold with your team tomorrow."
Dunban frowned. He didn't understand Soren's behavior at all. Was he that determined to undermine his own daughter to teach her a lesson? It simultaneously astonished and angered him.
"What will you do?"
"I have no choice but to go back. Regarding the treaty, I am uncertain at this point in time." She shrugged and finished her glass.
"If you're up for it, we could take a walk. Discuss ideas or if you want to take your mind off of it, talk about anything else."
The man watched as she shifted from side to side. Uneasiness crept over him and whispered in his ear. Was she going to reject him again? He hoped not.
"Yes, that sounds nice."
Relief flooded through his body. "Great, that's great."
Inwardly he rolled his eyes. Smooth.
"I'll just change, then we can be on our way." Melia twirled her hair, looking down at the red jumpsuit with an unreadable expression.
"You don't need to," he said before realizing what exactly he was saying. She looked up at him, surprised. "You look great. I mean…" He flubbed and sighed. There was no recovering from that. Dunban changed the subject: "It won't be a long walk."
"You have a particular destination in mind?"
"I spend a lot of time there when I don't want to be disturbed."
"How mysterious," she smirked. "I think I'll still change, in case it gets colder." Melia walked down the hallway and out of sight.
Disappointing, but at least she had agreed to go on the walk. Dunban scooped their wine glasses and the bottle into a bag. Then added a pack of carrots, cheese, and bread.
The sounds of footsteps pulled him out of his thoughts and he looked up to see Melia returning. Now, she wore black pants and a cream colored blouse. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail, similar to how she'd worn it for dinner. She looked effortlessly beautiful.
Masquing a smile, Dunban held the door open for her. She walked through and he shut it behind her. Locking it, he said, "We'll go down the path by the waterfront. It should be fairly quiet."
Side-by-side, they set out. As they reached the bottom of the hill, they reached a path that curved around the man-made boundary of the colony.
"I'm sorry about Maurice," he said, his voice low. "Nagi told me that he would keep Maurice under control tomorrow."
"I appreciate your support, Dunban. But please remember that you cannot control him and his words. I am aware that his views do not represent yours or the rest of the members of the BLADE council, despite how irritating and troubling they may be."
"It doesn't change the fact that he was disrespectful." Just thinking about Maurice made his anger flare up.
"Is diplomacy ever truly an exercise in politesse?" She joked. He couldn't help but grin. Then she cleared her throat and assumed a blank appearance. He frowned. "Speaking of diplomacy, that was kind of Vanea to bring you a gift to welcome you home."
Dunban stiffened. He should have known to expect this. Rather, he should have broached the subject with her before she brought it up.
Keeping his voice neutral, he responded, "She and I have a history, but it's over now. We're only friends." Clearing his throat, he asked, "Are you...attached?"
Why on earth was he falling over his words? He hadn't been this nervous in a long time. IT was strange, but at the same time exciting.
Emphatically, Melia shook her head. "No. No, not at all. Relationships for royals are frowned upon. Not that they don't happen you see, they are just not supposed to...well we are supposed to be unencumbered should an alliance need to be made through marriage." She rushed. "Not that I have not been in a romantic engagement before. But it was a long time ago and lasted only a year. And the rule regarding royals and romances was only taken seriously prior to fleeing the Ganglion. At this point, it perhaps is defunct."
A flash of hope blossomed inside his heart and their eyes met. She quickly looked away but he had a feeling that she was feeling the same eagerness he was.
"So gardening. Not what I expected." Melia returned her attention to him. "I overheard your conversation with Elma at dinner."
"What did you expect?"
"I...well, it's probably best I don't say anything and accidentally put my foot in my mouth."
"A wise decision, Dunban. But yes, gardening. I like flowers. I like knowing about them and being able to grow and tend them."
"You like playing God."
"I didn't say that. But if given the chance...I wouldn't say no."
"Do we have a dictator on our hands?"
"Whatever do you mean?" She scoffed. "I would be fair and just. I would give Shulk a medal for managing to drive while distracted by Riki."
He laughed and she giggled. The sounds of their joy filled the air above them.
Catching his breath, he asked, "You did a lot of gardening with your mother?"
"Yes."
It appeared that wasn't a subject she wanted to discuss.
"And what do you get up to, Dunban? What would I not expect to learn about you?" She gazed at him coyly.
"I used to enjoy puzzles."
"Puzzles?"
"You can pick your jaw up off the ground." He ran his fingers through his hair, mildly embarrassed. Maybe that's a fact that he should've saved for a later conversation.
"My apologies, I'm just...surprised."
"I don't fit the puzzle demographic?"
"In all honesty, no, you do not." Melia bit her lip to keep from grinning. "They're...older."
"They help me focus. Block out all of the noise and the outside. Just one simple objective to achieve."
"It's elegant when you describe it like that."
"Is that sarcasm?"
Melia shook her head. "No! No sarcasm at all. I just wouldn't have the patience for that."
"We'll just have to do one together then and I'll show you that it can be fun." Dunban peered upward, carefully avoiding her eyes, keeping his voice casual. They hadn't made it through the evening yet and he was already suggesting they spend more time together. His overeagerness unnerved him. And subsequently, he hoped it didn't make him look desperate.
"If you say so."
They neared the end of the walkway, where construction had stopped. All that was left was the darkness of the night, and the few twinkling lights across the black mass shining over in the industrial district.
"Um...Dunban?" Melia questioned.
"I know what it looks like, but I promise it's better than it seems." He walked to the edge and flipped on a flashlight. He gestured for Melia to stand next to him, and they peered down to see a ladder leading to a small platform a few feet down.
"Ladies first." Melia pursed her lips, eying the ladder with skepticism. "Alright, I'll go down first." Without hesitation, he descended quickly, dropping onto the platform after a few minutes of climbing. Shining the flashlight up, he called out, "Your turn."
Still, she did not move, skeptical. "Are you sure this is safe?"
"Yes. Do you trust me?"
He saw her whisper something. "I didn't hear you. What was that?"
"Nothing. I'm coming down." Gracefully, she climbed down the ladder and stepped down next to him.
"Wasn't that bad, right?"
"No, it wasn't…." She trailed off, her eyes pulled to the sky above.
Dunban beamed. The view was magnificent, and somehow the light pollution of NLA didn't take away from the grandiose of the night sky with scattered stars across it.
"This is magnificent."
"I thought you'd like it." He pulled out a blanket that he kept stored there and invited her to sit. "We were supposed to finish the bridge between the residential district and the industrial district, but more important things took precedence. This is left over from that project."
"Thank you for sharing it with me." The sound of her voice was full of gratitude as she took a seat next to him. Once again, she turned her face upward at the stars and he marveled how the light glowed on her silver hair and alabaster skin.
Dragging his eyes away before he made a spectacle of himself, he pulled out the rations he brought from the house. "So, what else is surprising about the High Entian Princess?"
"I don't know...I can speak five languages." She returned her attention to him, watching him with her ever observant eyes.
"Impressive but not surprising." Dunban poured out two more glasses of wine and handed her one.
"I am unbeatable when it comes to hide and seek."
"That's...odd."
"There is no pleasing you."
"Hold on. I wasn't expecting that and it's a fascinating skill. How do you become unbeatable at that?"
"If I told you then you could best me."
"I think we should put this to the test."
"Certainly. Right after we do that puzzle of yours."
"You're mocking me."
"No. Maybe a little." Melia twirled her ponytail between her fingers, eyes alight with mirth. "Your turn. What is surprising about Dunban? Besides being a master puzzle solver."
"Alright." He mused. "I used to be a surfer."
"What is that?"
A distinct sadness rolled over him, though he kept his voice monotone. "You basically have a board and you use it to stand up and ride waves on in the ocean."
"And you do that...for fun?"
He chuckled. "I guess that's not something you have."
"Most definitely not. Do you fall off?"
"Often. But it's a rush when you stay on and ride the wave to its end."
"I should like to see that I think." She reflected, her eyes unfocused, "I think that's something my brother would like."
"Kallian?"
The woman did not respond and instead sipped her drink. Another topic not for discussion. She had said that her family was complicated, but Dunban was beginning to get the sense it was more than just that.
"So if I hadn't interrupted you, what would you have spent the rest of your night doing?"
"Hmm. I would have taken the wine to my room, with whatever food I could find, and spent the night worrying over what to do about my impossible situation." Melia shrugged, cutting some cheese, adding a cracker, and popping it into her mouth. She appeared more relaxed and at ease than he'd ever seen. Perhaps it was the wine. Maybe his company. Or her exhaustion at putting up a strong front all day. But most likely a combination of the three.
"I'm glad then I interrupted that." He murmured.
"I am as well." She met his eyes, the smile dancing on her lips causing a delightful skip of his heart.
"But I still don't really understand why you didn't go with Fiora and Tyrea. Given..." he gestured with his hands to indicate the dancing, which he suspected was still not something she wanted to relive.
"It wouldn't be appropriate for me as the princess and official diplomat to go to a "club". And truly, all I wanted to do was dance, which I had a chance to do so." Melia shrugged.
"Until I interrupted." Dunban realized. "Then let me make it up to you." He rose and pulled out his communicator. Clicked a few buttons and a song began to stream through the device's speakers a waltz tune.
He held his hand out to Melia. "Would you like to dance?"
"Dunban, you don't have to do that." She expressed, surprised, her eyes darting back and forth between his face and outstretched hand.
"But I want to. It may be a surprise to you but I am a good dancer."
"I don't think that's a surprise."
"Why not?"
"Your movements have the flexibility to them that many dancers have."
"You've studied my body?" The smirked ruefully.
"Wait, that's not what I meant…" The young woman trailed off, covering her mouth with her hand, flustered.
"I'm just teasing." Dunban winked at her. He swore he saw a faint blush rise to her ivory cheeks. "But Melia, in all sincerity. May I have this dance?"
"...alright. Yes."
She slipped her hand in his hand and he helped her stand. With care, he led her a few steps away from the blanket, took her right hand in his left and slid his right arm around her back. With no direction, the princess lay her left hand over Dunban's shoulder.
They gazed at one another, remaining motionless. His pulse quickened as her eyes looked deep into his, searching. It felt as though she were trying to see into his soul. Swallowing, he registered the feeling of her hands in his, the soft touch of her skin on his an unintended caress.
Slowly, he led her in a slow waltz, maintaining the appropriate amount of space between their bodies. They twirled, the night air swirling around them, catching at their clothes and running through their hair. A flock of birds cried out above and a car far off into the city honked. But none of that mattered. It all fell away as they moved together to the music, unable to take their eyes off of one another.
The song finished and shuffled to the next, this time to a slow, jazzy tune. Gradually, Dunban slowed their pace, changing the footwork so that instead of moving, they swayed from side to side. Neither wanted to let go.
"Melia. I don't know if I told you, but..." He hesitated, then continued, "You look beautiful tonight."
"Oh...Thank you." The woman breathed, looking up at him from beneath her lashes shyly.
In silent agreement, both began to gravitate closer to one another, ending with their bodies barely touching each other. Her ice blue eyes bore into his and heat spilled out of his core.
After a moment's hesitation, Dunban leaned forward and paused, his lips hovering over hers. A shadow of fear engulfed his heart and he questioned if she would reject him. If he read the situation entirely wrong. If she would decide against—
She closed the distance between their lips. His sensations were captivated by the tenderness of the kiss. Tentatively, he pulled her closer, her body fully pressed against his. Her hands came to both sides of his face as she deepened the kiss. He didn't want to end it just yet. Neither did she.
They broke apart for a breath, but for no more than that. Their lips crashed together again, fervent this time, yet still cautious. Zealous, but slow. The emotions that had grown in him the past week poured out as he captured her lips with his own. All he wanted was to tell her how he felt.
And so he did without words. Each time they separated and collided, every thought of her, every desire to protect, to touch, to hold her he communicated through each kiss.
Her hands moved down his face to his shirt and she lay her hands flat on his chest. His heart hammered under her touch. She'd reawakened something in him that had long lay dormant, something he'd wondered if had simply died inside himself, or disappeared forever.
Finally, they detached from each other for the last time, their panting saturating the space between them as they stared at one another. An elation unlike anything he'd felt in the past decade gushed in his heart and a smile danced on his mouth.
"Those eyes…" she whispered.
"Hmm?"
"You make me feel...seen," Melia confessed, bringing a hand up to caress his cheek. "Seen and safe."
"That's all I want." He took her hand in his and kissed her wrist.
A gong boomed out in the distance; the church's clocktower. Midnight.
"As much as I'd like to stay longer, I think I should get you home." Dunban brushed his thumb across her lips and she delicately kissed it, sending a thrill down his body.
"If we must." She sighed.
Gathering up their things in silence, they soon ascended the ladder, reluctantly withdrawing from their private escape and returning to the conflict-ridden reality they inhabited. In companionable silence, they strolled back towards the house, hand in hand. He would occasionally look over at her, and she at him as if neither could believe their present circumstances were real, but both exhilarated and thankful they were.
Finally, they arrived at home. It was quiet when they entered. Unclear if Tyrea and Fiora — and Zain — had returned or not. Simultaneously he and Melia dropped hands. Immediately he felt deprived of her touch and wanted to take her hand back in his. But there was an unspoken agreement that what had happened between them would stay between them.
At least he hoped only for the time being.
Facing one another, he found himself struggling to find something to say. And when he did, they both opened their mouths to speak.
"I want—" "That was—"
They grinned at one another. "Ladies first," Dunban gestured to her.
"I wanted to thank you for the walk. And the dance." Melia professed, leaning towards him.
"It was my pleasure. Thank you for joining me."
"It was nice to not have to think about well...everything."
They fell silent once more. He didn't want to say goodnight, but it was midnight, and they both had busy days the next day. It would be ill-advised to extend the night.
But with her, he wanted to be irresponsible.
"Goodnight, Dunban. Until tomorrow."
"Until tomorrow." He brought her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles. He heard her sigh and smiled. Slowly, she slid her hand of his grasp, her eyes never leaving his. Then she pivoted and glided down the hallway to her room. He could swear he saw a skip in her step.
Beaming, he slid his hands into his pockets and spun on his heel, heading down the opposite hallway. His heart soared. His romantic sensibilities had all but disappeared, but now things had changed. Dunban had hope.
A loud beeping blared next to his head. He groaned and rolled over, grabbing for his communicator. He brought it up to his ear without opening his eyes.
"Hello?"
"Get outta bed." Vandham bellowed. "We found a piece of the lifehold."
A/N: FIIIIIIIIAWORKSSSSSSS. At least I like to think so. Leave some love if you are so inclined. Also, check out my tumblr (theroseduelist) for some of my thoughts/inspiration/behind-the-scenes look at the chapter. Toodles~
