Page 11

E lizabeth surrendered to the women's gentle care, closing her eyes and allowing them to tend to her. Despite her initial resistance, Anna's warm embrace and gentle words eased her defenses, and she broke down, consumed by sorrow. Their gentle touch, a balm to her wounded spirit, had soothed her.

She leaned back, the scent of lavender soap, rich and calming, wrapped around her, blending with the delicate steam that rose in lazy swirls.

The scent of her newly washed hair filled the air around her, a comforting aroma that did little to ease the heavy ache in her chest. Or'Ang had come for her, a thought of joy that sat alongside the grief for her father, both emotions pressing down on her, almost a physical weight.

With a trembling hand, she brushed away the tear that slid down her cheek, leaving a cool trail behind. She couldn't believe how drastically her life had changed within the space of a single day. She tilted her head back, letting it rest against the copper tub, and closed her eyes.

Yesterday had been magical, filled with the scent of wildflowers and the laughter of children.

Or’Ang’s smiling face, the amusing stories he told, and the wistful expression in his eyes when he spoke about his parents, all replayed in her mind like a vivid dream.

It felt as though she were watching their meeting from the outside, a silent observer in the spirit realm.

She touched her lips with her fingers, remembering the gentle pressure of his kiss and the way it had made her heart race. A smile touched her lips as she recalled his guilty look when the actual Bobbin arrived. It suddenly dawned on her why he had felt the need to lie about his true self.

He wanted to be seen for himself, not his title.

With every glance, every whispered word, their meeting felt as if it was unfolding in one of her stories, full of captivating details and hidden meanings.

The thought struck her so funny that she couldn't help but let out a strained, amused laugh, the sound a little shaky but full of mirth.

She opened her eyes, sat forward, and swirled her hands through the warm water, feeling the gentle ripples against her skin.

She sniffed, wiped her cheek again, and then slowly pushed herself out of the water, her skin still tingling from the warmth.

Stepping over the side, she felt the cool air on her skin and wrapped the drying sheet around herself.

A slight blush rose in her cheeks as Anna and two other young women entered, swooping in and taking over, treating her as though she was a young child needing help getting dressed.

The sight of the deep bruises, a stark contrast to her pale skin, made them mutter with alarm.

Her laugh, a choked sound barely audible above Anna's furious whisper of curses directed at the shifters, betrayed her amusement at Anna's fierce indignation.

Twenty minutes later, she emerged, clothed in a shimmering emerald green silk gown, the soft underclothes whispering against her skin.

She followed Anna down the winding stairs, the stone steps cool under her feet, while the stewardess's voice painted vivid images of castle life and the castle's history.

Shadows danced in the vast foyer, seeming to whisper secrets as they approached the imposing dark oak doors.

Anna pushed open the heavy doors, stepped into the room, and turned, a gentle smile creasing her face.

The crackling flames in the fireplace cast dancing shadows on the wall, highlighting Or’Ang’s tall figure as he turned, his every movement filled with an unspoken power that made her heart race and her breath hitch.

“Lady Elizabeth, sire,” Anna announced as if she were introducing someone of grand importance.

Elizabeth crossed the threshold, her eyes immediately drawn to Or’Ang.

His own, brimming with such raw emotion, caused her smile to tremble, replacing her uncertainty with the need to be wrapped in his arms. The quiet click of the doors closing as Anna left was barely audible over the swirling thoughts in her mind.

“You are exquisite, my fair lady. I trust that Anna and her warriors took good care of you,” he murmured.

With synchronized strides, they walked towards each other, their footsteps muffled by the woven carpet until they met.

Her small hands fit perfectly into his, and she nodded silently.

He gently pulled her towards the crackling fire, his fingers warm against hers, leading her to the matching chairs placed before the hearth.

“Father? Have you-has Polar returned yet?” she asked.

“Nay, nothing as yet. I have sent two guards to meet up with him and the others,” he said.

“Thank you,” she murmured.

She sank down onto the plush velvet chair, the luxurious softness enveloping her, and folded her hands in her lap.

Her eyes followed him intently as he backed away a few steps, his movements slow and deliberate, to stand nearer the crackling warmth of the fireplace.

Watching his face, she saw a series of conflicting emotions flit across his features, each a silent battle within himself.

“If you ask me, I’ll answer you truthfully,” she encouraged.

He gave her a startled look before he grimaced and chuckled. “Normally I am the one reading other’s thoughts,” he grudgingly confessed.

She tilted her head, confused by his words before her lips twitched. “Then, I’m thankful that you can’t because it could be most embarrassing for me.”

“Why do you say that?” he asked.

She rose and gracefully closed the distance between them, her steps silent on the thick, woven carpet.

Cupping his hands in hers, she felt the warmth of his skin against hers, and traced gentle circles with her thumbs on the backs of his hands.

She inhaled deeply, feeling the tension leave her shoulders, and then answered truthfully, as she had promised.

“I know we have just met, but it feels as if I’ve known you all my life.

Yesterday, in the garden, I didn’t see a king or a shifter, but a man who captured my heart and imagination with his wit, humor, and love for a garden that was as magical as he was.

You gladly shared a meal with a humble, human girl who had stumbled into a place that obviously meant a great deal to you.

” She looked up at him. Her voice wasn’t quite steady and she took a steadying breath before she continued.

“Your kiss—.” A rosy blush rose to her cheeks, but she didn’t look away.

“I can still feel your lips upon mine. You make me believe in the stories that dance through my mind. But, more than that, you make me feel that you actually see me and could love me even though I’m but a simple?—”

His kiss, a sweet and unexpected interruption, silenced her words. A low moan escaped her lips as his warm hands slid around her waist, pulling her into his embrace. Her lips parted for him, soft and yielding the way a rosebud would open at the warmth of the sun, and his kiss deepened.

The kiss ended abruptly, leaving her with a sigh of regret and a longing for more.

His eyes as he studied her face were intense and unwavering.

They met hers as he gently held her face, making her feel as if he could see her deepest secrets.

A troubled expression clouded his face, betraying the storm of emotions raging within him.

Her touch was light, delicate, as she lifted her hand and covered his.

“What is it?”

He inhaled deeply, closing his eyes for a brief moment of tranquility before reopening them and dropping his hands. The way he turned, his fingers flexing, sent a shiver down her spine, replacing curiosity with a knot of fear. Had she revealed her thoughts prematurely? Said too much?

“Is it because I’m a human and you are a shifter?” she murmured.

“Nay!” he denied, turning to face her. He grasped both of her hands and breathed out a deep sigh. “I have not been completely honest with you.”

“I… don’t understand,” she said.

Gently taking her arm, he led her back to the chair.

She sank down as he stood in front of her.

A spark of hope flickered within her when he didn't let go of her hands.

He struggled to find the right words, his mouth opening and closing several times before he finally shook his head and looked down at her with an intense, serious expression.

“You’ve often said that what you felt is magic or magical. What would you say if I told you that there is magic involved? That I have been blessed or cursed, depending on how you see it, with a power that defies all logic?” he asked.

His grip tightened as he spoke, his hold firm but still gentle, as if he were afraid that his confession would terrify her and she would run.

His eyes, pleading with a desperation that tugged at her heartstrings, begged for her understanding.

Although he projected an image of strength and confidence, this king was haunted by the fear of rejection, a secret vulnerability that lurked beneath his proud facade.

“I would say that you have been blessed. That such a magic could only be entrusted to someone who is worthy of it and I could think of no one else more worthy than you,” she said, rising to her feet again.

She pulled her hand free and placed it over his heart.

“If you could see into my mind, you would not see fear, Or’Ang.

You would see wonder and joy at knowing who you are in here. ”