Loving the Forbidden Prince-Chapter 10 - A Delicate Dance

I NEED YOUR HELP! I love that you love Ayleth & Etan like I do, and I am committing to trying to write daily updates for it in July. However, as the third book I'm writing simultaneously, and a Spirity entrant, this book will be purely measured on its real-money income. It currently has about 25-30 readers paying to unlock chapters. Unless I can get that number above 500 by the end of July, I will be forced to put this book back on hiatus indefinitely.

If you have the choice to use fast-passes, or unlock the chapter, please consider unlocking rather than reading for free. If you don't have a choice, definitely make sure the book is added to your library and keep reading for free (and give your votes!), because those reader stats will encourage WN to show the book to others who may be able to pay.

Our goal is 500 paying readers by July 30th... LET'S DO THIS!

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ETAN

She had her face turned up and her eyes closed. Taking her face in his hands, he brushed his lips over hers so lightly, yet something crackled between them, lighting up his skin like the flameflies that haunted the Summitras night. She sighed and opened her mouth.

It was an act of will not to simply plunge his tongue into her sweetness. There would be time for that, he reminded himself. Time to teach her the joys of their bodies. But this was a moment for careful reverence. To show her how precious she had—so quickly—become.

And so, he trailed his lips over hers slowly, then did not remove them, but spoke into the kiss. "Finding you," he whispered, "is a miracle. An act of the Father of Light. Our joining will lead to union between our nations. Peace, true peace, at last," he murmured.

She pulled back, that little v between her brows again and shook her head slightly. "My heart is yours. I dream of peace, also. But… Zenithrans will never be at peace with Cannibals and savages. We are an enlightened nation of—"

Borsche coughed and Etan spoke before his man's splutters turned into words she would recognize.

"My love… do you really believe that?"

She blinked. "Believe what?"

"That my people are savages? Cannibals?"

"I have seen the histories."

Etan raised a single eyebrow. "Do you I strike you as a savage? A Cannibal?" He leaned in again and she took a step back, her head tilted, staring at him, curious.

"No, you aren't. Are you?"

"Of course not. And neither are my people."

"But there are paintings…"

Borsche sounded like he might swallow his tongue. Etan shot him a look, then turned back to her taking her hand. "Ayleth—"

"Do not laugh at me," she said to Etan, tears in her eyes. "I have been sheltered; it is true. But I am not stupid—nor gullible. If I am wrong, show me. But do not shame me for believing others, then ask me to simply accept your word. If I am proven wrong, I will admit my fault and make amends. You do not need to mock me."

"I assure you, Love, I do not mock—nor do I find amusement in this. I only wish for the opportunity to show you how you may have been… misinformed about my people. My nation. Our history."

Her throat bobbed as she nodded once, though her eyes darted to Borsche twice. "Very well," she said quietly. "It would… please me if your people were not… violent."

Etan chuckled. "Do not misunderstand me, Princess. My people and I are violent when violence is called for, but I've already seen that you, too, know how to use force for good."

She blushed prettily, but her frown returned quickly. "I do not know how we will find our way through this maze," she breathed. "My parents… my people…"

Etan pulled her into his chest. "We will do it together," he whispered into her hair.

"As beautiful as this all is—and I assure you, my heart is aflutter with the love in the air—" Borsche said dryly, "the unmasking is complete and the Royals return for the Feast. If Her Highness is not at her parents table very soon there may be more than historical errors to be navigated tonight," Borsche said, his voice steel.

Etan didn't release her but pulled back enough to meet her eyes. She stared up at him, the moon reflected in her wide eyes and making her pale skin glow. "He's right," he said, allowing the pain it would cause him to creep into his voice. "We must return. And not together."

Ayleth's brow furrowed. She put one hand to his chest—over his shirt this time—and Etan felt the hum in his skin.

She took a deep breath, then, as if she'd made a decision, she nodded and reached for his hand, lining up their palms—both smeared in their blood. He watched as she put her shoulders back and raised her chin.

"I do not wish to leave you," she said in a small voice. "I admit, I fear what tomorrow brings for us. But I cannot deny that I am… gripped by you. To my very soul, however impossible that may seem."

"I am taken also, Ayleth. Do not doubt it."

She nodded but kept her eyes on their hands. "There is a tradition in my people," she said quietly. "That blood consecrates the word. That words spoken in blood union cannot be broken. We've made that vow. But there are also vows between lovers that are considered… sacred."

"Tell me, I will make any vow you wish."

She looked up then, like she wanted to kiss him. But as he began to lean in, she closed her eyes and continued. "It is clear that our kingdoms are very different—perhaps in ways we do not anticipate. So, I would speak this to you so that we can… so that the gods will help us when things become difficult…" She swallowed hard, then met his eyes again, her face earnest and open in ways Etan sensed were not natural to her, but an offering to him. "I consecrate myself to you," she whispered. "To poverty. To war. To death. Though even the King stand in my way, I would return to your side. By the name of the Goddess, I will give myself to no other and take none into me."

Etan was touched, but Borsche sucked in a breath, staring at him in stunned disbelief. Etan would have given him a questioning look, but he couldn't look away from her, from the halo of light rising from her skin.

"I consecrate myself to you," he said, his voice deeper. "To poverty. To war. To death. Though even the King stand in my way, I would return to your side. In the name of Father of Light, I will take no other and give myself to none," he breathed.

She smiled, but it faded quickly. She turned to look over her shoulder, towards the exit to the maze, and sighed. "Your Clown is right, I must go." Then she turned back, "But know that I don't wish to."

He couldn't resist, he leaned in to kiss her again, gently, traced the line of her face with his fingertips. "Whatever comes we'll meet it together," he said, ignoring Borsche's rolled eyes behind her.

"Highness," Borsche ground out, "I am not needling. It is most important that she be seen. Right now."

Etan nodded and Ayleth did too. As she turned away, their fingers stayed linked until she was forced out of reach. As she disappeared around the corner to the exit of the maze, she sent one more pleading glance back to him. He nodded, then she was gone.

Without taking his eyes off the spot she'd disappeared, Etan spoke low and hard to Borsche.

"You follow, and you make sure she isn't violated by one of these pricks before she reaches the feast."

Borsche's face was tight, but he bowed and darted after her into the dark.

When they were both out of sight Etan let his head sink back and sighed his tension to the sky—to the Father of Lights.

"What trouble are you brewing?" he muttered under his breath. "A union to bring peace? Or conflict to end the world?" He shook his head. "It couldn't have just been a commoner, or the bastard of a King? You know, a simple scandal?"

High in the sky, the clouds that had been covering part of the moon suddenly shifted and Etan found himself bathed in moonlight so bright he could see the tiny leaves in the hedge maze.

He snorted. "Show off."