III
She panicked. And she never panicked. She was never not entirely in control of herself and everything around her. That was her power. But here, now, with this man, she panicked.
Jonathan stood in the middle of that beautiful room looking at that beautiful woman and found himself moving toward the bed. She followed him, but she was no longer smiling. And that was the last thing he remembered.
He lay on her bed, slumped in a deep sleep. It wasn't until he had gone down that she felt like she could breathe. What was she doing!? She couldn't do this. Not with him.
That thought startled her. She went to her chair by the fire and sat, gazing over at the man passed out on her bed who was causing her such distress. What was it about him? After all, this was not the first handsome man she had brought up to her tower. She had magic to persuade if necessary, but she knew her feminine wiles were usually quite sufficient to get a man to make love to her. That's what this man was prepared to do, she was sure.
But she couldn't go through with it. She couldn't trick him. Not with her magic power or her power of seduction. She wanted to, she just…couldn't.
"You're different," she murmured, partly to herself and partly to him, even though he couldn't hear her. "You're different and I want you to be different."
That was the truth of it, really. He was different. She had read his future when she first looked into his eyes. She knew the success he would surely achieve. She knew the strength of him, the kindness and the charisma. He was different than most men in that regard. Others might be able to charm and do business with ease. But others were not sincere in the way this man certainly was. And when she had read Max and felt the surge of affection that the old man had for this Jonathan Hart, she was convinced that she was right. He was different. He was wonderful.
She had never met a man like that before. Her own father had certainly loved her dearly, but her power had frightened him. She had learned very young how to hide herself and to silently use her magic to her advantage. It was the only way she could avoid frightening others. Because when people were frightened of her, they were often cruel in an effort to protect themselves. When Pa had sold her to the King, they had all told her it was an honor for her to serve the King and live in the castle and serve the kingdom this way. But she knew the truth. They were protecting themselves from her. They hoped to placate her and keep her where she could be watched and prevented from doing them harm.
Or so they thought.
With a huff of frustration at her lot in live, she waved her hand at the fire, causing it to emit violet sparks. It was pointless, but it was a better way to express her annoyance without breaking things. That was a lesson she didn't always remember, unfortunately. Even if her magic could repair whatever she smashed to pieces, nothing ever came out the same as before.
She stood up, running a hand through her hair anxiously, and walked over to Jonathan Hart. He was gorgeous, even when he was asleep. She sighed, "What am I going to do with you?" She reached out and brushed his hair off his forehead with her fingertips. "I don't know what to do."
Slowly, she leaned in to kiss him, but she stopped herself. She wanted so much to kiss him. She couldn't, though. It wasn't fair to either of them to do it like that. So instead, she got up and removed his boots before laying a blanket over him. She went about her own evening routine and got into her bed beside him. The candles all went out with another wave of her hand.
