Page 39 of A Broken Promise (the Freckled Fate #1)

39

FINNLEAH

T he bright winter sun was well beyond the horizon, leaving only specks of purple hues skidding through the darkening sky. The first couple of stars made their cold appearance, only to be hidden by heavy gray clouds minutes later. I was fully dressed, standing in the living room by the front door, awaiting the light buzzing sound of the steam engines pulling up on the street.

Priya walked down the stairs just as a loud knock rang against the door.

“You look fantastic!” I started beaming with glee. Priya was gorgeous, but that black makeup outlining her eyes and her lips made her look like Death Incarnate herself. She was a Queen, maybe not by title or birth, but she was a queen to be reckoned with and this was her kingdom.

“I am fantastic.” She winked as she passed me to open the door for Florian.

With no invitation, he walked inside the hall.

His long hair was unbound, resting on his slender shoulders. He wore a dark burgundy tuxedo made from rich velvet. Underneath was a black, crisp shirt with golden buttons, though most of them were left unbuttoned, putting on display that large, eye-catching floral tattoo.

“Oh, gorgeous, you are stunning ,” Florian said in awe as his eyes lingered on me and I couldn’t resist but to smile sheepishly.

“You don’t look too shabby yourself.” I smirked, giving him a welcoming nod.

“Not too shabby? Oh, darling, I look fucking amazing.” Florian laughed, taking a few steps closer until he linked our arms and strode to the door.

“Oh gods, I am going to puke,” Priya snarled as she looked at us.

His eyes lit in wicked amusement as he extended his hand to Priya.

“As if.” She grimaced and walked down the stairs outside until a well-dressed driver bowed and opened the door for her to a slick looking machine.

“I bought a separate one just for you, Priya.” Florian and I walked down the steps. “You know, since me and gorgeous over here are planning on staying the whole night…and who knows if things go well enough, maybe we won’t be back for another day or two.” He clicked his tongue, leaving a fat smile on his face.

Priya flipped him off before the chauffeur shut the door to her vehicle. I chuckled. Sometimes I forgot just how fearless Florian was at pissing her off. She rolled her window down a second later, looking at me.

“Word of advice, Freckles, if you actually want to get good head tonight, don’t waste your time with him and find someone who actually knows what they are doing.” This time, Florian just rolled his eyes while he viciously ran his tongue across his lips nonstop until Priya closed the window and took off.

My eyes trailed her car quickly departing into the night.

“Well now that the can-do-no-wrong grouch is gone. Let’s get this party started.” Florian chuckled as he let me in the car and followed behind.

I was pleasantly surprised at the warmth inside the vehicle and the comfort of the cushioned seats. This was definitely like no carriage I had ever been in.

Florian just stared at me with a large grin on his face. I pursed my gloss-covered lips together and squinted my eyes at him .

“You know, staring is rather impolite,” I said to him, straightening my dress just a bit.

“Oh, I never bothered to attend etiquette lessons. Rather boring. I only actually attended once. I collected enough frogs to cover half the desks in the class and let them croak and jump while poor Mrs. Eleonore ran in pure panic. So, my manners might be rusty, forgive me, my lady.” He bowed his head just low enough to take a good glimpse of my seductively exposed bust. The corset did wonders to my usually boring chest, and I couldn’t blame him for taking a quick glance. Even I gawked at that cleavage for a good fifteen minutes, not believing that this was what my body looked like now.

Feminine and even a tad bit seductive.

“You know I won’t sleep with you,” I teased him. Florian loved to mention sex any chance he got. He might have even been alarmingly obsessed with it, but ever since that very first moment I met him, his eyes and his soft face radiated nothing but comfort and friendship, and a little boyish attitude. At times though, I wondered if he would follow up on the promises he made if I was indeed interested.

Now with this dress on, I had no doubt he most definitely would. Even if it was out of pure physical curiosity. That assurance brought a little bit of satisfaction to my ego.

“Ah.” He acted out the dramatic scene of being stabbed in the heart as he slowly slid against the leather chair he was seated on. “You’ve shattered my heart; o divine angel, I shall never return to live a happy life.” He paused, closing his eyes as if dead. “Unless…” He peeked with one eye. “Unless you cure me by showing me your boobs, then I shall come alive again”.

He winked and closed his eyes again.

I wholeheartedly laughed. “Who knew a good rack of boobs would be the cure to all broken hearts of men?”

“What can I say, breasts are truly magical,” he said, opening his eyes and resting his ankle on top of his knee, his dark brown, leather shoes exposing the small slivers of his skin.

I could see through the layers of his boyish remarks, a charming, well-built Heir of the Drug Empire facade, just him. A life loving boy, now burdened with a soul crushing legacy to uphold. More than anything, he needed a friend.

I understood him.

I needed a friend too.

“So have you ever been to the ball before?” I curiously asked him, breaking the sudden heavy silence.

“Do you insist on insulting me today?” He smiled, raising his eyebrows. “We might not be the titled Royals, but Casteols have been the honorary guests for generations now. Ever since the Royals learned that with good opium, their dull lives become so much better. So yeah, I’ve attended ever since I was old enough. At this point it’s more of a tradition for me, but this year, I am spicing things up and bringing you with me.”

“Is your grandpa going to be there? And your mother?”

“My grandpa has been at the Royal Castle for two days now. Since all the Royals arrive for this holiday, they usually have a large gathering and discuss all matters of business. Before you ask, yes, I’ve attended a couple of those before, and honestly, I would rather be tortured by an old snail than spend another hour of my life there unnecessarily. Instead, I get to hear the most important points from their wives later in one way or the other.” He winked at me. I knew exactly what other ways he meant. “My mother, on the other hand, does absolutely nothing today, since she gets locked in the apartment.” At my eyes raised in question, he continued. “Ever since she got so high that she ran naked across the streets to the palace and fucked a random drunk guy in front of everyone on the palace’s front lawn. It made the news. Grandpa was so pissed that she embarrassed him like that; he would murder her for it, but she is his daughter after all, so he instead cut her off any drugs other than alcohol and just left her locked in the house under careful watch, so she has no chance of escaping. She usually gets insanely drunk and spends the day ranging anywhere from being absolutely psychotic to deep asleep.”

“That sounds rough. I am sorry.” I tried to hide the slight wince at his hidden pain as he casually continued.

“Well believe me, I’d rather have her drunken asleep or even psychotic than trying to pull her naked ass off someone else’s cock in front of the Royal crowd when you are thirteen.” His lips stretched in a soft smile, but his eyes hid behind a veil of hurt.

At times, I forgot that we were all wounded, in our own ways. In our path, one way or the other, we all fell and scarred ourselves. And those scars never went away. We just got so much better at masking them, even wearing them as if precious jewelry, yet never forgetting the true cost of them.

“Well, I once pretended I was coughing blood when my elven maid questioned the blood on my clothes. She thought I was dying and tried to find any possible cure to heal my lungs until two days later she finally realized it was my first period. She was so mad that I was sure if I wasn’t dying before, I would be now. But at one point I was desperate and determined to stick to my lie that I had to put period blood on my face and lips to make my story convincing. So, when it comes to thirteen-year-old embarrassing stories, clearly, I win.” I dramatically blinked at him.

“Kinky!” He cackled, his eyebrows raising in sinful questioning. “So, tell me more, did you have to use multiple fingers to check yourself?”

“Ew. You are gross and disgusting.” I kicked his leg, and he winced. “Fine, you want something truly kinky? Then…” I pinched my eyebrows together in a snarky grimace. “I raise your stakes for a kinky story.”

“Now we are finally getting somewhere.” Florian bit his lip in anticipation. He moved his arms until they rested on top of his knees as if preparing for the most intriguing story of his life.

“My first time being on top, I gave my guy the worst splinter-filled, moss carpet burns on his back, like his whole back was bloodied up. The worst part is that he kept quiet the entire time until we were done, and I noticed the blood on his back. He tried to deny it at first but then I spent an hour pulling little pieces of tree bark from scratched up skin. He had to make up a story about how he got hurt but I was so embarrassed. ”

“Ouch. So ruthless of you... But props to the guy. True gentleman.” Florian whole-heartedly laughed.

“He really was. I vowed to never again be on top but quickly broke my promise when he showed up with the horse blankets and leathers and a perfectly raked spot without a single bump.” I softly chuckled at the precious little intimate memories running through my mind as a little stream. Ollie. My dark eyed lover, my best friend, my everything.

I painfully smiled.

Gods, I missed him. I missed him so damn much. I missed his forever ruffled hair and those large dimples. I missed his always eager, but at times awkward hugs, his never-ending infectious laugh, that charming smile. I missed his unbroken faith in me and my dreams, his never-ending support even when I had my doubts. Gods of all, I missed how I felt when I was around him. He gave me hope. He gave me a future, and, in the end, he gave his life for me.

Gods, I really fucking missed him.

“Did you love him?” Florian suddenly asked, his gaze strong on my quieted eyes.

“Yes, I did,” I said. It was never hard to confess it, even though at times admitting that also meant knowing that love was not all powerful, nor healing or caring. No, for me love would be forever linked with pain and anguish. Because I did. I loved him with everything I had. Even if it was “a child’s love,” as Tuluma called it, I loved him then and I loved him now, and I was sure a part of me would love him forever.

“He is gone, huh?” Florian carefully asked.

“Yes. Killed by Destroyers.” The truth stung each time I thought of it.

“I am sorry, those fiery bastards really need to be put in check.” Florian rubbed my knee with his warm long hand. “He does sound pretty fun though.”

“He really was.” I chuckled, remembering the time I screamed at Ollie for throwing flour at me. Actual flour, that he stole from his father’s mill, because he’d found out I’d never seen snow.

“Still, you could never beat my most embarrassing story.” Now it was Florian’s turn to pull my drifting mind; tugging on a thread, away from that sharp edge leading to the pit filled with grief.

Florian went on, sharing a deeply disturbing yet truly hilarious story until I had to wipe tears from my eyes from laughing. The tears that might have been bottled up for years, stored and preserved for pain and anguish, but now released through pure laughter.

Yes, we were all scarred, yet those imperfections shaped a thing of beauty.