Two days passed agonizingly slow for Kate, it seemed, what with the mundane
pattern that the days fell into. It was on the dawn of the second day that
Kate decided to break that pattern and add some spice to the stuffy little
building she'd been resting in.
"Where do you come from?" she asked Dante, out of the blue. The man's eyes shifted from his task at hand and fell upon Kate's face. He smiled and Kate felt her lungs fill with butterflies. "Valdemar," he said, and set aside the shirt he'd been mending. "Why do you ask?" From her position in the makeshift bed, Kate shrugged - carefully. "Well, I'd assume that's where you're taking me . . . right?"
"Aye."
Kate left it at that. She'd have to find out more about this 'Valdemar' later. For now, she wanted to focus on gaining her strength back. From the looks of it, the two of them were walking to Valdemar.
**
Pyrte slammed his fist upon the desk and growled loudly. His eyes burned with a hatred few had ever seen before, and those who had, well, most never lived to tell about it. "Dammit," he cursed, and glowered at the map again, "Captain. You're sure you've searched everywhere?"
"Yes, Majesty." Captain Zayne was a rugged man, with beady, snake-like eyes and a pointed nose. He looked more like a bird of prey than the leader of Pyrte's private Guard. "We've even searched the Wyrsa territory, and the farmland bordering the Kingdom. We can't find her, sir."
Pyrte swore under his breath and clenched one hand into a fist. "Keep looking, Captain. I want no stone unturned. We will find that traitor, so help me, and we'll teach her a lesson she won't soon forget."
**
Darkness had descended upon the little cottage, wrapping it like a velvet blanket. Outside, crickets sang and fireflies danced like prima ballerinas to their tune. Inside, a glowing fire burned, banishing the slight chill from the air and seeming to sway to the crickets' music. Kate, still bandaged, sat silently gazing into that fire, both eyes fixed upon it intensely. Dante sat in a corner, watching the back of the Princess's head. He'd finished mending her clothes earlier that morning and she'd put them back on immediately. He watched her - black hair tumbling down her back, slender body silhouetted against the flames - and despite the fact that her clothes weren't fit for a woman so noble, Dante thought she was the most beautiful creature in the world. Whether she sensed his thoughts or not, she turned and looked him in the eye, and his breath caught in his throat. That piercing stare held him where he was, and he watched as it shifted from a depthless black and into a deep shade of violet. The two colors were nearly indistinguishable, but Dante could tell them apart like night from day. She turned back around and drew her knees to her chest, resting her head upon them with both arms wrapped around. Her breathing evened out, her body relaxed . . . Kate was asleep. Silently, he crawled toward her, white-clad body moving effortlessly across the bare floor, and stopped once he'd reached her side. His blue gaze drifted over her face, and again he longed to kiss her; his hand reached carefully for her face and eased a silky-soft strand of hair from it. He trailed his hand down her cheek, relishing the sensation of her skin against his own . . . but there he paused, and pulled his hand away.
Staring into the flames, Kate had a million thoughts running through her mind, like trapped rats, and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't chase them away. Her eyes watered from the intensity of her stare, but she didn't seem to notice. In an instant, she became aware that she was being watched. The feeling of unease that gripped one's throat and made it harder to breathe washed over her. 'It's only Dante,' she reminded herself, but the feeling did not go away. She turned, slowly, met that icy gaze, and found herself swimming in it. It took more strength than she had to pull away from it, and the pure exertion wore her out. She pulled her knees to her chest, rest her head upon them, and closed her eyes. A few moments found her back to normal, but just as she was about to lift her head, she heard Dante move behind her.
Kate froze.
Dante drew nearer and nearer, and Kate forced herself to remain still. Chances were that he thought she was asleep. 'He is only here to tend to the fire,' Kate reasoned with herself, 'He'll be gone in a minute or two.' But she was wrong. Instead he reached up and swept the hair from her face, smoothed his hand down her cheek, made her body tremble . . . Then, when she thought she couldn't feign sleep any longer, he stopped. Was it curiosity? Was it anger? Was it lust that made her do it? Whatever the reason, Kate lifted her head, opened her eyes, and gazed directly at Dante. Then it was she that swept the hair from his face, it was her own hand that trailed down his cheek. It was her own heart that fluttered like a moth in a spider's web, but it was Dante who pulled her gently to him. He cupped her face in one gentle hand, and when he was so near that she could taste his breath upon her lips, he kissed her.
His tongue slid along her lower lip, urging her to open her mouth, and when she finally parted her lips, he swept in, and Kate lost herself in the power of love's first kiss.
"Where do you come from?" she asked Dante, out of the blue. The man's eyes shifted from his task at hand and fell upon Kate's face. He smiled and Kate felt her lungs fill with butterflies. "Valdemar," he said, and set aside the shirt he'd been mending. "Why do you ask?" From her position in the makeshift bed, Kate shrugged - carefully. "Well, I'd assume that's where you're taking me . . . right?"
"Aye."
Kate left it at that. She'd have to find out more about this 'Valdemar' later. For now, she wanted to focus on gaining her strength back. From the looks of it, the two of them were walking to Valdemar.
**
Pyrte slammed his fist upon the desk and growled loudly. His eyes burned with a hatred few had ever seen before, and those who had, well, most never lived to tell about it. "Dammit," he cursed, and glowered at the map again, "Captain. You're sure you've searched everywhere?"
"Yes, Majesty." Captain Zayne was a rugged man, with beady, snake-like eyes and a pointed nose. He looked more like a bird of prey than the leader of Pyrte's private Guard. "We've even searched the Wyrsa territory, and the farmland bordering the Kingdom. We can't find her, sir."
Pyrte swore under his breath and clenched one hand into a fist. "Keep looking, Captain. I want no stone unturned. We will find that traitor, so help me, and we'll teach her a lesson she won't soon forget."
**
Darkness had descended upon the little cottage, wrapping it like a velvet blanket. Outside, crickets sang and fireflies danced like prima ballerinas to their tune. Inside, a glowing fire burned, banishing the slight chill from the air and seeming to sway to the crickets' music. Kate, still bandaged, sat silently gazing into that fire, both eyes fixed upon it intensely. Dante sat in a corner, watching the back of the Princess's head. He'd finished mending her clothes earlier that morning and she'd put them back on immediately. He watched her - black hair tumbling down her back, slender body silhouetted against the flames - and despite the fact that her clothes weren't fit for a woman so noble, Dante thought she was the most beautiful creature in the world. Whether she sensed his thoughts or not, she turned and looked him in the eye, and his breath caught in his throat. That piercing stare held him where he was, and he watched as it shifted from a depthless black and into a deep shade of violet. The two colors were nearly indistinguishable, but Dante could tell them apart like night from day. She turned back around and drew her knees to her chest, resting her head upon them with both arms wrapped around. Her breathing evened out, her body relaxed . . . Kate was asleep. Silently, he crawled toward her, white-clad body moving effortlessly across the bare floor, and stopped once he'd reached her side. His blue gaze drifted over her face, and again he longed to kiss her; his hand reached carefully for her face and eased a silky-soft strand of hair from it. He trailed his hand down her cheek, relishing the sensation of her skin against his own . . . but there he paused, and pulled his hand away.
Staring into the flames, Kate had a million thoughts running through her mind, like trapped rats, and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't chase them away. Her eyes watered from the intensity of her stare, but she didn't seem to notice. In an instant, she became aware that she was being watched. The feeling of unease that gripped one's throat and made it harder to breathe washed over her. 'It's only Dante,' she reminded herself, but the feeling did not go away. She turned, slowly, met that icy gaze, and found herself swimming in it. It took more strength than she had to pull away from it, and the pure exertion wore her out. She pulled her knees to her chest, rest her head upon them, and closed her eyes. A few moments found her back to normal, but just as she was about to lift her head, she heard Dante move behind her.
Kate froze.
Dante drew nearer and nearer, and Kate forced herself to remain still. Chances were that he thought she was asleep. 'He is only here to tend to the fire,' Kate reasoned with herself, 'He'll be gone in a minute or two.' But she was wrong. Instead he reached up and swept the hair from her face, smoothed his hand down her cheek, made her body tremble . . . Then, when she thought she couldn't feign sleep any longer, he stopped. Was it curiosity? Was it anger? Was it lust that made her do it? Whatever the reason, Kate lifted her head, opened her eyes, and gazed directly at Dante. Then it was she that swept the hair from his face, it was her own hand that trailed down his cheek. It was her own heart that fluttered like a moth in a spider's web, but it was Dante who pulled her gently to him. He cupped her face in one gentle hand, and when he was so near that she could taste his breath upon her lips, he kissed her.
His tongue slid along her lower lip, urging her to open her mouth, and when she finally parted her lips, he swept in, and Kate lost herself in the power of love's first kiss.