[A/N: It's been a couple of weeks, sorry! Sincere thanks for all the reviews, keep them coming if you please! This is a short chapter. I just wanted to log an update as thanks, but there isn't really too much story development here - a longer chapter will hopefully follow SOON]
CHAPTER SEVEN
Endymion awoke the next morning, warm, content, and strangely well rested. He let his gaze linger on the blonde angel asleep, her head on his chest, reams of her spun silk hair fanned out behind her and curling gently on his chest next to her. Their breathing was in sync, he noticed, her chest rising and falling in tandem with his. The strap of her white gown had slipped down her arm in sleep, and underneath he saw the overly lacy undergarments all the palace whores sported; dressed on the taxpayers gold. Nothing more important than keeping up appearances, Endymion thought wryly. He checked himself; the practice was never something he had objected to before. There were plenty of witnesses to that fact. But Serena was different, somehow, and he hated seeing her in the regulation uniform of her - now former - station, even if hers were a snowy white as opposed to the standard black or blood red.
The events of the night before began to weigh heavily on his mind. It had been… intense. To say the least. Endymion was unsure as to what it all actually meant - he'd promised her freedom from her obligations and then revealed his deepest darkest secret before crying into her hair. And he hadn't slept with her. Closing one eye and scrunching up his face in a grimace, Endymion also recalled how frantically he'd been mentally plotting how to make her fall in love with him. That would certainly not do… would it? I was fucked up yesterday, his inner voice reasoned. I was a mess. Before you were thinking about eloping to Atlantis with her, you were also contemplating renouncing your crown and becoming a privateer. Or a gardener. Birds of a feather flock together - and the same thing goes for crazy thoughts, Endy. It didn't mean anything. She's beautiful and nice and completely untainted, and I guess that can be intoxicating to someone not quite in their right mind. Don't forget what she is… don't forget what you are.
In the light of day - and despite the sharp pain that pierced his heart at the thought - Endymion rationalised that he knew nothing about this girl. She was special, yes… and, being honest to himself, he would exploit every opportunity to enjoy her company that he could… but love? The idea that he would fall in love with an 18 year old virgin just because she didn't understand enough about life and death to comprehend fully his culpability in the death of a child was… ridiculous, and not fitting of a future king. No, he could like her. But love, no. He couldn't.
Decided against letting the little sleeping beauty in his bed another opportunity poach his heart, Endymion slid gently out from under her, quickly exchanging his wrinkled silk shirt for a fresh one left hanging in the closet by a maid the day before. However, despite having come to a conscious decision, Endymion felt nausea in the pit of his stomach as he watched Serena sleep and thought about the impossibility of interacting with her without falling in love.
Conflicted - he decided to simply not think about it. That'd definitely work. Letting a passing maid in the hall know of his plans for Serena and her lemon haired friend, he headed off to the council meeting, pushing her out of his mind - with a moderate degree of success, until talk of Black Luna's accumulating power made the night before seem like a distant dream, and worry for the kingdom replaced his craving to see her again. Almost.