Warning: Slightly racy chapter.

Chapter 13: Only An Illusion

The next day, I expected to be thrown out of the castle, but no one said a thing, or gave me any strange looks. That, at least, gave me a small comfort. I thought for sure he would tell everyone - and laugh. My sadness was plain on my tired face, though, and I kept getting concerned glances as I drifted through my day.

I didn't see any sign of Bowser, either that day or the next. Everyone assumed he was brooding over the humiliating defeat and didn't comment. I suspected he was avoiding me out of embarrassment. I couldn't blame him; what king wanted his son's nursemaid to profess her undying love for him?

Unfortunately for me, it was undying. In spite of it all, my heart still longed for him, and I ached with loneliness. I felt listless for the next few days, and wandered aimlessly around the castle. The chain chomps barked for my attention; I patted them absently. Junior saw I was miserable and tried to cheer me up, and I tried to smile for him, but I just couldn't.

One morning, nearly a week after the failed attack - correction, kidnapping - I drifted up to the castle's roof. I went and leaned my hands on the wall as I looked down, the stretch of the land below a dizzying sight. I had come to love Darkland, but I hadn't seen my own homeland in over two months. Maybe it was time to return for a visit.

I was mulling the idea over when the stone beneath my feet vibrated a little. It wasn't much, but it was enough; I withheld a groan and stayed where I was. I had gotten used to not seeing his highness and had been dreading what would happen when our paths finally crossed. Maybe he would fire me and send me home, or maybe he would pretend like nothing had happened, that I hadn't bared my heart and soul to him. I wasn't sure which was worse.

He was walking as softly as his bulk would allow, but I heard him approach and stop directly behind me. I tensed, but I didn't turn. I kept my eyes on the sky, my hands folded on the wall in front of me. The wind lightly buffeted my hair, teasing it around my shoulders.

Bowser cleared his throat. I thought for only an instant before choosing to ignore him. If he wanted to speak, he could speak to the back of my head. The last time I had faced him after he cleared his throat had been a disaster.

A minute or so passed, and then he cleared his throat again, louder this time. I ignored him this time, too, lowering my head a little as I fixed my gaze on a pit of lava far below. The weight of his stare was heavy on my shoulders, but I refused to budge. I had experienced enough humiliation for now.

The silence mounted, and his gaze lingered. I expected him to leave, or to tap my shoulder to see if I was awake, or to grab me and spin me around. Anything except continue to stand there like that, not uttering a word. It unnerved me; what did he want?

I was too afraid to find out, so I stared at the lava pit until my eyes grew blurry. Then, he cleared his throat a third time, an over-the-top 'ah-he-he-hem!' Seeing that he was never going to go away or say whatever it was he wanted to say until I turned, I let out a huff of air and spun around.

And felt my heart stop in my chest. I flew a hand to my open mouth as my eyes widened, not believing what they were seeing.

Bowser stood with one arm tucked behind his back, eyes downcast in a shy manner. He stood bent forward just a bit, head bowed. His other hand was outstretched, and clutched in it was a beautiful bouquet of dewy lavender roses.

"Junior told me," he said in a quiet voice as my other hand joined the first, "that these would make a lovely gift for such a lovely little princess."

My eyes started to moisten as my heart started beating again - wildly. It seemed too good to be true, that it must all be just a dream, but I reached with quivering hands for those beautiful roses and found that they were quite real. They were soft and fragrant, and I held them close to me. Bowser held them easily in one hand, but there were so many I could only hold them by cradling them with my arm. I pulled one from the group and brushed its silky petals against my cheek.

Bowser took his other hand out from behind his back and held another treasure out to me; a box of chocolates. Poking out of the glossy round treats were curved stems. "Junior also said you're fond of cherries," he said, in that same quiet, shy manner.

My heart was soaring so high, I just had to laugh with joy. "Do you always consult with small children on matters of the heart?"

Bowser chuckled and looked down at his toes, which he was tapping against the stone pavement. "It seemed like the thing to do at the time."

I laughed again. Seeing him like this, so soft-spoken - well, as soft-spoken as he could be - and unsure of himself, so nervous and eager to please me...it made me fall in love with him all over again. My heart was bursting with so many emotions - love, joy, excitement, amazement - that I couldn't stop the tears dampening my eyes from spilling over.

Bowser noticed and, with his free hand pulled out another handkerchief - where did he keep those things, anyway? He stepped closer to me and carefully dried my eyes. I could only stare - who knew he could be so gentle? - unable to truly believe this was happening. I wanted to speak, to thank him for finally seeing me, to tell him how much I loved him, but my voice caught in my throat.

Breathless, I reached my free hand out, gripping his shoulder and bringing him closer. He allowed me to coax him forward, eyeing me curiously as I stretched up to snake my arm around his neck. I couldn't quite reach, so I pressed my hand to the back of his neck and nudged him closer.

Realizing what I was trying to do, he suddenly moved forward, meeting my waiting lips. I closed my eyes and shivered; this was my first real kiss, and it didn't disappoint. Bowser's mouth was like his hands; hard and firm, yet silky-smooth. His jaws felt powerful as his mouth moved over mine, making me feel small and frail in comparison - which I was. But I knew deep down that he would never hurt me.

I let out a sigh - which somehow came out as a soft moan - and tightened my hold on him. He let out his own breath as he kissed me deeper, firmer, a tremor running through him in his excitement. As his breath mingled with mine, I tasted a hint of smoke, strange but warm and good. Shivering again, I drew my tongue over his lips, savoring their taste.

He moaned low in his throat then, the deep rumble of it vibrating through his body and into mine. I moaned again in response as my head swam. I needed to take a breath, so I pulled away, gasping softly. I didn't let go, and he didn't move away, his eyes locked with mine. Those dark orbs were full of emotion; desire, longing, disbelief, amazement.

He was wondering if this was real, just like I was. He had the eagerness and excitement of a child, so overjoyed to finally have something that had eluded him for so long. I did what I thought was the best way to convince him that I was real, and that I meant every word I said, and kissed him again.

His hand slipped around my waist, gently nudging me closer to him, until I rested against him. The roses wound up a little squished, but when we finally parted again, breathless and laughing, I didn't mind.

Over the next few days, we spent every moment we could together. We took long walks together, we played with Junior together, and we sneaked away to private corners to kiss - the latter we did most of all. When we weren't doing these things, we talked. I already knew his dreams and goals, so now he asked me about mine, and I told him happily.

I told him all about my homeland, about the tri-kingdoms, subtly suggesting we open a diplomatic channel between us (he said he'd think about it). I talked about my family, my brothers and sisters, of the feeling of never quite fitting in.

"I know now why I was born so different," I said one afternoon as I cuddled against him. "It's because I was always meant to be with you."

He seemed touched that I felt this way, and he continued to spoil me with gifts and treats. Before long, the entire castle was whispering about our new relationship. Maids blushed and giggled when I walked by, and guards winked playfully. Junior was ecstatic.

"How soon can I start calling you Mom?" he asked as I tucked him into bed one night.

"As soon as your father says so," I responded, smiling.

"Well, tell him to marry you already," he said firmly.

I laughed, kissed him goodnight and went to my own room. I changed into my new nightgown - a slip of black silk trimmed with lace, held up by ribbon-like straps. It was a little low-cut, and I felt sensual in it. It also had a matching silk robe, with red lace trim.

I turned the lights down and got into bed, but I couldn't go to sleep. It had been nearly an hour since I saw my King B last, and I missed his voice, his warm touch. I debated on whether or not I should get up for a while, then slipped out from under the covers, pulled on my robe and padded barefoot to his bedchamber.

When I got there he was sitting up in bed, writing something in his journal. He yelped when he saw me and fumbled to put it away. I smirked. "Writing an entry that might make me blush?" I wondered.

"No," he muttered, blushing himself.

"Well, that's a relief."

The room felt especially warm and cozy tonight. I drifted my gaze over everything, eventually resting my eyes on the piano. "Shall I play you to sleep?" I asked.

Smiling, Bowser shook his head and lay down. "No," he said, as he drew the covers to his chin. "I'm good."

I didn't want to go back to bed just yet, so I thought for a moment. "Shall I tuck you in?"

He chuckled. "I'm already tucked in, silly princess."

"I see. Shall I kiss you goodnight, then?"

At this Bowser smiled slyly, as if he had been waiting for me to suggest this. "That might be nice," he said slowly, folding his hands on his chest. "Yes."

I had to kneel on the bed to reach him, and then only by stretching out over him. Bowser suddenly gripped my waist in his large hands and pulled me nearer, and I fell, with a small gasp, against his chest. Beneath my palms I could feel his heart beating, so much more powerful a feeling than the flutter of my own heart, as our mouths met. His hands stayed at my waist, his sharp claws drifting up and down the sides of my torso, teasing me through the thin fabric of my robe and nightgown.

I knew how powerful and dangerous those hands and claws could be, yet he touched me with such caution, such gentleness. It gave me the chills - the good kind - and I moaned softly against his mouth as I pressed myself closer. He moaned lowly in response, the rumbling vibration of it buzzing through my body. His tongue, which tasted rich and smoky, was tickling across my lips.

I let out another moan, my fingertips dragging down the smooth shell of his chest as they automatically tried to grab on to something. A heat like nothing I had ever felt before was pooling inside me, warming me to the core. I felt light-headed, dizzy, and I kissed him almost frantically as my breath quickened, over and over again.

With another low, growl-like moan, he gripped my waist again and slowly pushed me back, though our lips never parted. He slowly rose up, until we were both sitting. I held his face in my hands and continued to kiss him in that fevered way, gasping and shivering when his tongue dipped past my lips and stroked mine.

My face flushed, I pulled away, panting. I felt so strange, like every last cell in my body was suddenly rushing with heightened sensitivity. Even the brush of my clothes against my skin sent a shiver through me. I had never experienced anything like this before, but I understood what it was my body wanted - what I wanted.

I clutched at Bowser's shoulders, so broad and massive beneath my small hands. "Tell me that you love me," I whispered.

His eyes were closed, his hands still at my waist. He had untied my robe and moved his fingers to the silk of my nightgown. I arched my back a little, coaxing him to touch me more, and he complied, running the tips of his claws up my torso. They brushed the curve of my breasts, and I let out a shuddery breath as my skin prickled. "Tell me," I repeated.

I peppered his mouth, his face, his throat with moist, hot kisses, whispering again and again for him to tell me what I wanted to hear. I knew that he did, but I wanted him to say it out loud. I wanted to hear him say how much he loved and needed me, just like I loved and needed him. And then...

And then I couldn't think of a reason not to give in to what I was feeling. I wanted him to share every last part of me, to feel my love for him in every way. Shivering in excitement, I rose up and held his face again, kissing his closed eyes. His fingers glided up over the swell of my breasts, cupping them gently. I knew he could have stroked me good and hard, or ripped my nightgown to shreds, but he didn't. His touch was feather-light, as if he were waiting for permission to do more.

His eyes opened slowly, blinking at me a moment. I knew he felt the same hot desire I did, but that look of disbelief lingered. He could scarcely believe I was real, that I truly loved and wanted him this much. Oh, but I ached to show him just how much. Only I wanted him to speak first.

My smile loving, I kissed him again. "Tell me," I said again, breathlessly.

His hands left my breasts, resting lightly on the curve of my hips. His gaze dropped from mine. "I can't."

My blood, running so hot just a moment, turned cold. I let go of him and sat back; he didn't let go of me. "Why not?" I demanded sharply.

He closed his eyes and shook his head. "I just can't."

There was only one reason I could think of why he didn't want to say that he loved me. It was because he didn't.

Realization slowly sunk in, until I was trembling with rage and humiliation. Oh, but I was a fool...

I forced myself to remain calm and cool as I shoved his hands away and slid down from the bed. He wouldn't see me cry. No; I wouldn't cry this time. He wasn't worth another tear.

"I see," I said as I stepped away from him. "I'll pack my things and leave first thing in the morning. Good night, your Highness."

My pride had its limits. Even my love for Junior wasn't enough to make me stay, not when his father had so cruelly strung me along like this. I turned and started for the door. Just as I was opening it, the floor shook beneath my feet. Bowser loomed over me a second later, reaching over my head and slamming the door shut with such a bang the castle walls trembled. I flinched, but I didn't react otherwise as he moved so close to me, arm still above my head, I was nearly pinned by his hulking form.

"Where are you going?" he demanded, his breath hot against my ear.

"Home," I said icily.

"Why?" he barked.

I nearly flinched again; he sounded so angry, and so hurt...

But I wasn't going to be taken for a fool again. "I'm not interested in being your royal whore," I said, eyes glued to the door.

"I wasn't trying to turn you into one!" he cried.

I calmly looked up, until my eyes met his. They were dark and blazing, full of emotions I couldn't quite name. "You either love me or you don't," I informed him coolly. "If you loved me, you would say so."

I waited for him to contradict me, to tell me that of course he loved me. That all this was just a big mistake.

Instead, he hung his head and gave it a shake. "I just can't," he whispered. "Please, I-"

I jerked away from him, flung open the other door and rushed off into the night.