Just One Drop

Chapter 12- The Kiss

Felicia's POV

After what seemed like an eternity, Master finally let us go. I descended back down towards my quarters to free myself from all my thoughts by cleaning it again.

I got out the polish and a cloth, and began wiping off the chest of drawers. I heard someone enter the room, and instinctively knew it was Tristan.

"Hey Feli," he said softly.

I nodded in his general direction, and then continued polishing.

He grabbed ahold of my hand softly, stopping it's movement. "Are you okay? You seemed a little... out of it up there."

'No, the murder of kings and queens by their own sons is something completely normal and not at all worrying, that will cause no problems whatsoever.'

Tristan laughed at the clear sarcasm in my note.

"Spot on there, feisty!"

I smiled at him in the way only he understood; if I could've, I would've laughed.

He smiled back, his mouth wide, showing off rows of pearly white teeth. He ran a hand through his hair, mussing it up unintentionally. I covered a snort with one hand, and fixed his hair with my other.

Beginning to retract my hand from his hair, I took a step back, but he managed to catch my wrist. We simply stood there for a few moments that felt like an eternity, staring into each other's eyes. Then he leaned forward and pressed his lips against mine.

The kiss was soft and sweet, but full of passion. It was not forceful, nor violent, but a kiss of blooming love.

It was... Wonderful? Awful? Wrong? Right? Wonderfully wrong or awfully right?

I couldn't decide.

I melted into him, returning the kiss unsurely. I pulled away slowly. His eyes were sparkling mischieviously and I knew mine reflected his expression. We kissed again, a shorter but more certain kiss, and as we parted he kissed my hand softly.

Before I had even finished my next thought, he was gone.

I smiled dreamily to no one in particular and went back to polishing the chest of drawers. Now I was glad for the effect cleaning had on me. I desperately needed to forget everything before my torn feelings drove me crazy. I should've felt happy about the wonderful kiss and blooming love we shared, but it was complicating my life so much. Still, I felt like I was missing something. Was our love too innocent and childish?

Eventually, more girls streamed into the quarters, but none disturbed me. They knew me, they understood me.

Most had experienced something close to my pain, to my misery, though not many had experiened something equal to my torment. Though they had mostly gotten over the pain, we all felt the tension hanging above us, threatening to turn our docility into despair. We all had the memories, locked away in a vault of our own creation.

Yes, these girls understood me, whether still tweens or well into their thirties. Not many survived longer than fourty. I shivered. I was not ready for the cold embrace of death. Still, the thought was close to a temptation.

It would be easy.

An eating knife would do. I could picture it: Two or three lines across my wrist; they didn't have to be deep. Cuts like smiles, red smiles. They would begin leaking, so perhaps the cuts would be better compared to closed eyes leaking red tears. Black spots would begin dotting my vision, and slowly I would sink to the ground. I would be dead within minutes.

No, these were not good thoughts. These were bad thoughts.

'Go away,' I told the thoughts, chastising them.

They listened, though they still hovered somewhere in the back of my mind.

I breathed out a heavy sigh, and went back to my work.

Braith's POV

I never realised being king was such a bore. It was even worse than being crown prince.

Word of the murder of my mother and father had spread far and wide. Within the first few hours of my rule, the entire kingdom knew. My fool of a father had been a stern but fair king, and I knew I was expected to follow his example. I wasn't planning to.

"Kill her," I told Edmure casually.

"But- the law- Lady Cassidy Nottins is a highly valued member of-"

"Kill her."

"My prince, I-"

"Watch your tongue, Edmure, if you want to keep it. I am your king, and this is a command." I thrummed my fingers on the arm of the throne, casting an irritated glance at my advisor.

He bowed meekly, and left the room without another sound. The rest of my court simply looked on. Had I cared, I would've read several emotions on my subjects' faces, including fear, shock, nervousness, and anger. I didn't care.

"Court is over for today."

Lord Emshire, a valued member of my father's council, spoke up. "But, Your Majesty, there are still several matters to be discu-"

I cut him off. "Court is over for today, Lord Emshire. Don't make me repeat myself again."

No one dared protest when I got up from the throne -my throne, I reminded myself- and left the room.

I wandered the halls half aimlessly, before deciding to take a walk outside. The day was bright and sunny, and as I took a few steps outside, I realised how much I had missed the fresh air and the feeling of the sun on my skin.

I snorted, remembering the part in Twilight about how vampires glitter in the sun. One of the many stupid parts in the series, though it's actually rather hilarious to read about how different humans portrayed us. The legends always had grains of truth in them, though they were mostly incorrect.

I shook my head as if to clear it, and began wandering. I admired the gardeners' work; they were actually rather good. I made a mental note to myself to try to not kill them off.

But remembering all my paperwork, I had to cut the walk short. As the king, there was even more paperwork to do than as the crown prince.

I would simply have to resume my walk later.