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Chapter Five

Peter

Ten Months Before Present Day

They held their swords at the ready.

Lord Grey placed one hand up to signal to the others to hold.

They held as the sounds of battle, the clanking of metal swords and groans of men, surrounded them.

The smoke from the billowing fires on the ships darkened the water, and the beautiful flare-ups and the fires’ flames mocked the seriousness of the situation, making something beautiful out of devastation.

“Hold, men!” he called again—

“I cannot!” I said as I rose from the sette and began pacing back and forth .

“Are you well?” Lady Darling asked, setting the book down to walk over to me. We had known each other for two years, she could sense my mood, at times.

“Sorry–the suspense of this battle–” I started; then pausing my pacing, I looked up at her. My, she was so pretty. I cleared my throat. “I apologize. You read so well—pull me so deep into these stories—”

“That is the purpose.”

“Yes, and never was there such a storyteller as you.”

“A reader —”

“I am sure you have tales of your own. I would love to hear them, too.” I cringed inside. It was not my place. Why am I asking such things of her?

“My life is not one of adventure,” she shared.

“My life seems one of endless torment, pining for all the things I want and cannot have,” I said, tangling my hand in my hair.

“What do you mean?” she asked, but then she answered her own question. “Ah, of course, you speak of your curse.”

“And my siblings’ curses, Layla and Dominick,” I said, walking closer to her.

I wondered for a while how soft her hair would feel, but of course, it was only because–well, I had no reason, but it was not because I liked her in any other way than as a friend.

She smelled of strawberries as I moved in closer. I loved strawberries .

Why am I moving closer to her? I should not be doing this. Where is Martha when I need her?

I looked to the corner, and Martha was looking up from her needlework, staring right at me.

She winked as our eyes connected. She was incorrigible.

I looked from Martha to Lady Darling, examining the beauty of her face.

Yes, she was pretty, but there was far more that made her more appealing than any other maiden I had ever met.

Her eyes for one, her beautiful–no, stop.

“I am so sorry—” she began, stumbling over her words. I looked away, not wanting to make her uncomfortable.

“–Dominick abandoning us. Layla lost to us.”

“I am sure the weight feels so very heavy,” she whispered.

I could not look at her. I should have moved away, but I could not. I wanted to confide in her, although I knew I should not. I could not get close to any lady or maiden without breaking my curse. I would not inflict that pain on anyone. I saw how abandonment had hurt my mother.

“And all this talk of pirates? I heard last week that Dominick was seen with pirates. I have no way of knowing if he is alive unless someone reports back to us, letting us know that they saw him at some royal event. Why does he ignore us? Everyone acts like it’s fine.

No one knows how my mother longs for him to come home, or how I do also. ” I pulled my fingers through my hair .

She walked even closer to me, placing a hand on my shoulder. Her touch–it was like lightning to my soul. I could no longer resist looking up at her.

My friend, I silently affirmed.

“It is okay. I am here to listen if you need me.”

“I shall always need you, Lady Gwendolyn Darling. More than you know. Someday, I will tell you just how much,” I said with a smile.

What was that? I scolded myself. Why did I say that?

She ducked her head.

Ah, yes that is why I say such things. I like to tease her.

“Perhaps, we will continue tomorrow?”

“It’s like you enjoy keeping me full of anticipation. Maybe I shall sneak the book and read the ending, myself,” I said with an impish smirk. She would not like that notion, I was certain.

“Your Highness! No! You will not. I forbid it!” she said with a passion rising in her blue eyes. I wanted to lean into them to examine them even closer–for friendly reasons, of course.

“Hmm, I am not sure. I have heard that if one knows the end of a story, they are more satisfied while reading.”

“Absolutely not!” she said, moving away and picking up her book, tucking it forcefully under her arm, covering its spine with her hand as if I had not already seen the title of the book.

She was so cute .

“I will ban you from the royal library,” she said with adorable force.

“It is my library,” I said, stepping closer to her.

Martha, come and stop me at any time! I am losing my mind! I wanted to shout at her.

“I shall keep him from the books, Lady Darling. Do not worry. He will do as I say, or I will tell his mother,” Martha called from her needlework at the far end of the room.

She finally interrupts and chooses that?

“My flesh and blood! A traitor!” I pretended to be offended.

“Martha is a relation?” Lady Darling asked.

“Yes, my late father’s sister. Mother asked her to be our chaperone.” He paused, “She insists on not accepting any title, and yet she bosses me about the castle ever since I was a lad,” I said with a side look to Martha that let her know my jest was all in good fun. I adored my aunt.

“Yes, Peter is my nephew, Lady Darling.”

“Oh, that is–a surprise,” Lady Darling said softly. “I should be going home now.” She backed up, looking from Martha to me.

I reached out my hands as if I would take the book from her, but she turned and walked across the room to the door.

Once the door was shut behind her, I collapsed onto the sette and just smiled up at the ceiling. I was sad she was gone, yet it was for the best. I was not behaving as I ought .

“Peter, how you tease the lady!” Martha said, surprising me with her closeness, and then again as she poked me in the side with her finger.

I opened one eye to look at her. She was the only family I knew from my father’s side.

She kept to herself when she wasn’t watching me.

When mother told me that Martha would be acting as my chaperone, I was happy to be around her.

I enjoyed the feeling of having part of my father still within the castle walls.

“She is fun.”

“Yes, and a gentle soul. Be kind to her, or I will have to tell your mother—”

“Yes, sorry, Martha, I will be kind. I like her very much,” I said with a smirk.

“Peter,” she said, looking at me as if to scold. “She is a fine lady.”

“Very fine, which is unfortunate for me at times.”

“Or just what you need,” Martha said, sitting in the chair beside me and going back to her needlework.

I turned my head to watch her careful and steady hands.

They were old and wrinkled with time, but time had made her the expert she was at embroidery.

On every one of my birthdays, she had embroidered something for me, and they were all treasures I cherished.

“The last thing I need,” I huffed.

She paused in her work and looked up at me.

“She is good for you, Peter.”

Present Day

She was so lovely, there, on the blue settee.

Her hair was tumbling down in blond waves, and she had a blue ribbon pulling back most of the hair from her face.

She usually wore her hair like that when her maid did not do her hair.

Was she in a hurry to see me? A pain stabbed me in the gut.

I’d avoided her because I couldn’t tell her about the deal I had made with the pixies.

Do I even deserve this angelic and kind woman?

Curses, she did not deserve such treatment.

But every moment I was with her, I wanted to tell her of the pixies and the deal I had made—one that they would collect.

I’d even tried writing it down, but that was to no avail.

I wished things could be as easy as they were before I had rescued her from Pixie Isle.

I was determined that they would be, someday–I would fight for that.

I looked at Gwen, and my heart swelled with love for her.

How deeply I adored that woman asleep on the settee, there, in my library .

I crept closer to her, peering over her shoulder to see that she had been reading a book we’d already finished.

A devious thought came into my mind, and I smiled.

Gwen did not like surprises. But I couldn’t resist right then.

This opportunity was too good to pass up.

Whenever she was startled, she was so adorable.

She permitted me to surprise her only every once in a while.

“I believe you’ve read this one, my darling.”

With a jump, she moved and looked at me over her shoulder. She was about to fall from the settee, but I pulled her onto my knee as I took a seat next to her.

“Peter!” she said, looking deep into my eyes.

It always felt like a victory when she used my name. I’d worked hard to break down those walls of hers and have her call me by my name.

Instead of the scowl she used to give me at my impropriety, she smiled. “I was waiting for you.”

“I am sorry I wasn’t here. There are some things—”

“It’s all right. I am just happy you are here, now,” she said, her soft, beautiful eyes looking into mine with love.

I need to kiss this woman.

“Is Martha hiding somewhere?” I asked, looking about the room. Since our engagement, Martha chaperoned us less often. But that did not mean we were necessarily alone most of the time. I never knew when Martha would pop in and scold me for my behavior toward Gwen.

“No, we are alone— ”

Before she could continue what she was about to say, I pulled her lips to mine.

Gwendolyn Darling always smelled and tasted like the sweetest strawberries fresh from the vine. My favorite. My heart thudded in my chest and longed for nothing else but to be with her—always and forever.

She kissed me back with such sweetness and passion.

It was all I needed in life: her. I pulled her in closer, my hands making their way into her hair, tangling her bow, and she sighed into me as I deepened the kiss.

That small noise only made me want to kiss her more.

She was a timid little thing, but she was not shy when she kissed me—as long as we were in private.

Others might have only viewed her timidity as a weakness or an oddity, but it was her, and I loved her for it, not despite it.

I pulled her closer, trying to set her fully upon my lap, but she pulled away, moving off of me.

“Peter!”

“Ancients, I know,” I said, lowering my head to her shoulder. “I cannot pull you onto my lap. Want back onto my knee?” I turned my face and started kissing her neck.

She giggled.

I learned quickly that she was awfully ticklish there.

“Peter!” she said, laughing and pushing me away as I attempted to set her back upon my knee–we were never close enough. She set herself beside me, her dress against my pant leg. I would have to be all right with that .

“When can I see you again?” I hated that she had to go back to her vile mother.

“You are not leaving right now, are you?”

“No, I’m only in a rush to see you again once we are parted,” I said.

“Tomorrow morning, if you have time.”

“For a bride-to-be, you have a lot of free time,” I said, playing with her hair.

“My mother has it all planned.”

“Don’t forget that it’s our wedding, not hers.

” Gwen had confided in me in the past, and I had seen firsthand how cruel her mother could be.

I spoke with my own mother about the situation, but there was nothing we could do, except remove Gwen from her company forever.

After our wedding, I was ready to ban that woman from the castle.

I begged Gwen to live at the castle even before the wedding, but she refused, saying it would cause rumors about the two of us.

If we were seen in our current position, which would happen far more often if she lived within my castle walls– I paused my thoughts.

It was for the best, but I wanted to protect her from her mother.

I would have shamed her mother at court when she behaved poorly, but I did not want to tarnish Gwen’s name—or embarrass her.

I was also rarely at court because it was rather boring.

Gwen decided it was best to just keep her distance as best she could, and then to avoid her, if possible, after the wedding.

She did not need her mother’s verbal abuse in her life—no one needed that.

“Do not let her control it all.”

“I know. I am okay, though. Truly, I do make suggestions here and there, but I just want to be yours, Peter. I am tired of being apart from you. Thanks for coming, even late.”

“Me, too. Soon, Gwen, we shall.”

“Shall I read a bit?” she asked with a cute smile, her bow adorably askew.

“Kissing is a wonderful pastime—” I began, leaning in closer

“I will read a little. You’ll like it,” she said, kissing the tip of my nose.

I would always love whatever story she wanted to share with me. I’d learned long before then, while I enjoyed a good story, it was useless unless there was someone to share it with.

Gwen read as I snuck kisses until the moon rose and the carriage was ready, sadly, to take her away from me.