A Wild Rose

9 - Alexander's will

Chapter 9

Alexander's will

"You don't have to worry. Suzanna's not in. I've told the servants not to disturb us. We're perfectly safe." The way Alexander said 'safe' made my spine shiver. And not in the nice way I had been expecting. What was unsafe about this? I blocked out the thought before I found myself answering. I was not sure if the answer  - or answers - would be pleasant.

We were in his bedroom. I had never been in there before, though I knew this would only be the first of several occasions. For the rest of my life. The King size bed stood grandly in the centre, large, red, silk curtains wrapped around the four wooden frames holding up the covering over the bed. French doors were positioned on the far wall, a relatively cozy balcony following on from them. There walls were covered in painting, all of landscapes. He did not seem to like looking a people, for I had not seen many portraits of people around the palace, only in specific rooms.

One desk and plenty of shelves were covered in books and paper, but all neatly stacked, carefully piled away. Everything else around the room was neat and tucked away too. I knew it must usually be like this, but it was still odd to me how perfect everything looked. Like he had made a special effort to make it tidy. Maybe he had. He didn't need to - I was only his mistress, not his future wife, which meant I was not supposed to need anything special done for me. In that sense. I just had to come and go whenever he called. Which was why it made me more cautious than the sweet feeling of being wanted that I was supposed to feel.

He stood still, and kept his eyes fixed on me until I looked up, and met his gaze. Once I had, my eyes were locked there, and it would to stupid, it would look frightened, to turn away. And I didn't want him getting the impression that I was frightened, even though I was still judging myself whether the feeling I did have really was fright, or something else entirely. When my eyes did meet his, and when I did not look away, a small smile appeared on his face, though it did not seem as friendly as it did ... perverted.

"Ada, you are safe with me. You don't have to be afraid." he said slowly, approaching me with the same eerie calmness.

"I'm not afraid." I said, raising my head up. It was no use.

"You don't have to lie to me either. Everything will be fine. Just, trust me." That was the point when his hand just brushed against my bare arm, and anything but trust pulsed through me. Yes, I did trust him on a regular basis, not doubting it whenever he did or said something. But like this? Doing this? I couldn't have trusted him less.

That was what made me want to cry. That was what made me want to curl up in a ball on the floor and never have to get up again. This man was not that boy. This softly spoken, sly, suggestive man was not that kind, blushing, sweet boy. I had so been hoping, ever since it happened, that I would get to see him, and learn whether he had remembered our encounter or not. And I had seen him, and he had remembered. Then I had so hoped that he would still be like that little boy, not have changed one bit. But he had, and it broke my heart.

When I didn't respond, he moved his hand up, so that it was tracing up my arm ever so lightly, and then over my shoulder, and then down to my waist. All the while I was trying to keep my breath steady, and forced myself not to look up at him. Whatever I did, I did not want to look up at him again. But it was so difficult, so excruciatingly hard not to wrench his hand away and walk out of the room, that I did feel the blood pumping through me faster, and I was finding it more difficult to contain myself. But I had to. I didn't want to know the consequences if I didn't.

"Oh, Ada, my pretty little thing." he chanted, walking round to stand behind me. I did not turn around, only taking the opportunity to close my eyes and try to calm myself. "You never really do talk much, do you?"