"My lady, a young man at the gates is demanding to see you,"
Adeleina bolted towards her door and swept it open. In the hallway stood a burly guard, his uniform slightly wrinkled.
"Who?" she asked, the bewilderment evident in her tone.
"Don't know, my lady," the guard grunted. His head bowed in apology. "A fellow with dark hair and green eyes. Will you be seeing him?"
Adeleina's heart leapt. She fought hard to keep an exhilerated laugh from bursting past her lips. There could only be one young man with dark hair and green eyes at the gates: Alecsander.
Alecsander. The mere thought of his name sent ticklish tremors down Adeleina's spine. A part of her flushed with embarassment at their awkward parting the last time they had met, but the greater part of her was teeming with excitement to see him again.
"Yes, I suppose I will. Lead on." Adeleina gathered herself, forcing her dancing emotions behind a composed mask of calm.
"As you wish, my lady," the guard grunted again, and Adeleina followed him down the winding stone staircase.
They brushed through the castle corridors briskly, until the guard opened a door that led to the castle's outer grounds. There, behind those barring iron gates, he stood. Adeleina could feel the betraying flush heating her cheeks, as it always did when she saw him. It suddenly occurred to her that she must look like a horrid mess; her hair hadn't been brushed thoroughly in days, her skirts were wrinkled in every spot imaginable, and the skin under her eyes felt heavy and sore with anxiety and fatigue.
"You look terrible," Alecsander told her through the gate, his tone light and teasing. Adeleina scowled at him. Those were his first words to her in days?!
"I've changed my mind," she told the guard loudly, who was staring at Alecsander with befuddlement. "I don't want to see him anymore. Send him away,"
"I was only jesting!" came the protest. "You look lovely today, my lady. As you always do," he winked at her, oblivous to the guard's wide-eyed gape.
Adeleina stomped toward the gate and poked a finger through the bars.
"Why are you here?" she demanded, struggling furiously to keep the haughty frown on her face. Alecsander beamed at her like an innocent child with a toy.
"To see you, of course. Haven't you missed me?"
Adeleina couldn't help it; her heart rate rocketed skywards at his words. He had come to see her!
"Miss you! You wish," she hissed. Of course she had missed him. Need he even ask? Admittedly, her mind had been occupied with more pressing matters, but there was no doubt that she had missed him. However, there was no need to let him know. It wasn't as if she was pining after him day and night, after all.
"I've missed you too. Won't you come out from behind these terribly confining gates, princess?"
"My lady," the guard interjected, evidently nonplussed by Alecsander's saucy comments. "Are you certain it's safe?" His stammer faltered slightly under Adeleina's rigid expression.
"Open the gate, sir. Rest assured that I'll travel no further than a mile from the castle walls." Adeleina said, putting as much force into her words as was neccesary. He obeyed without further questioning, though the chary look stayed written all over his face. Adeleina added an afterthought. "I would think you wise, sir, to keep my actions to yourself."
The guard bobbed his head up and down fervently.
"Yes, my lady."
Adeleina nodded crisply and turned to Alecsander.
"Your guard looked ready to run me through with his spear," He told her as soon as they were out of earshot. Amusement lit his eyes, as though him being stabbed was the funniest thing he'd ever imagined. Adeleina sniffed delicately and sat on a patch of grass, her mock anger dissipating.
"He should be. If all our guards were pathetic and lazy, our castle would be overrun within the month. Have you heard of the attack in Ersaw?"
Alecsander's eyebrows flicked upwards, then drew together on his forehead in confusion. He sat down next to her, his fingers impossibly close to hers. Adeleina longed to inch her own hand towards his. He was so close.
"Err...where's Ersaw?"
Adeleina stopped sliding her fingers discreetly towards his as he withdrew his hand to scratch the back of his neck.
"Ersaw is the third village of Gervan."
"Ah. Who attacked?"
Adeleina glared at him irritably. He hadn't replaced his hand, as his fingers were now shredding a blade of grass.
"I don't know. A terribly bloodied man arrived during my betrothal ball--"
An uncomfortable look flickered across Alecsander's expression, and Adeleina suddenly remembered the question he had never answered.
"Speaking of my ball, where were you?" She sat up and crossed her arms, silently daring him to refuse her an answer.
"Er...not at your ball?"
Adeleina uncrossed her arms and threw them into the air in despair.
"Kindly inform me of something I don't already know, if you will."
"Alright, then. Did you know that kingdoms in the west wrap their sword grips with rubber?"
Adeleina stared at him. A jaunty smile lit his face, his impossibly perfect array of teeth flashing at her.
"I couldn't care less what kingdoms in the west wrap their grips with! I want to know why you weren't at my ball. Are you even the prince you claim to be?"
For the first time, a smoldering and piqued look crossed his face. The expression was fleeting, falling away from his perfectly-chiseled face as quickly as it had arrived, but Adeleina had caught it.
"I didn't recieve an invitation to your betrothal ball, Adeleina."
She knew, this time, he wasn't jesting or playing with her thoughts. His voice had lost all the lightness it had held before, the timbre changing to an low and irate one. Adeleina's heart missed a beat.
"What?" Adeleina gawked at him, a storm of questions sweeping into her mind. He hadn't even been invited?
The corner of Alecsander's mouth twitched slightly, as if he were about to laugh at her bemused expression.
"I suppose my father and yours aren't on very good terms," he drawled, shrugging carelessly and flopping to the ground. The corner of his shirt had untucked from his breeches as he lay on his back, exposing a sliver of taut skin. Adeleina barely heard his words. Her attention was, not for the first time, focused on his lean build.
"I suppose not," she mumbled distractedly. Not many men had figures so rugged, yet so graceful. How did Alecsander do it? This was simply unfair.
"Don't drool too much, my lady," Alecsander smirked as he caught her gaze traveling down the length of his body. He didn't move to tuck his shirt back in. Adeleina's face heated, the cooling air of dusk contradicting the embarrassed warmth that tingled through her cheeks and ears.
"I wasn't drooling," she snapped at Alecsander, tearing her eyes away from his waist. She glared at him defiantly, silently daring him to argue. Alecsander caught the vehement look and hastily changed the topic.
"If you say so. How was the ball? It must have been terribly dreary in my absence," he grinned at her again.
"It would have been a horrendous night, had it not been for one of the princes. Do you know Damien of Dale?"
"No." His reply was curt and clipped. Adeleina pursed her lips, wondering why.
"Oh. Well, that's alright. I don't know where Dale is either." She plucked a blade of grass and ran it through her fingernails, watching the green strands fall away. "Can you believe I have to marry one of these foolish princes?"
"You seem rather taken with Damien," Alecsander pointed out, his tone still harsh. Adeleina stared at him. Was he jealous? The thought made her almost erupt with laughter. The self-absorbed, narcissistic prince was green with envy!
"You seem rather envious of him," she countered. Alecsander spluttered with indignancy.
"Me? Envious? Never! I'd wager this Damien has nothing on my astounding looks and charming personality."
Adeleina's chest cracked suddenly with guilt at his words. Had she been too close with Damien? Had she led him to believe a fabrication? Were these secret outings with Alecsander a form of betrayal to his trust? For the first time, she considered her relationship with Alecsander and her imminent marriage thoughtfully. Had Alecsander been at her betrothal ball, there would have been no need for dilemma. It was an almost foolish fantasy to imagine marrying the man who lay next to her now, but it would have been all too likely if he had been invited to her ball.
Yet, he had not attended, and she had spent much of the ball with Damien as a result. There was no denying it; Damien was extraordinarily affable and convivial, never mind his striking complexion most women wouldn't hesitate to swoon after. Yet his jovial allure almost seemed to dim in comparison with Alecsander's. It wasn't as though Damien's qualities were lackluster compared to Alecsander's, but it was if Alecsander possessed a magnetism that drew Adeleina closer to him than to Damien. There was something intriguing about Alecsander's shrewd humor, his dancing amusement, and of course, his perfect cheekbones, that evoked a strange, alien desire in Adeleina. Perhaps one could call it lust, but was it? Adeleina knew that she certainly had no desire to bed any man, Alecsander or not. No, it most certainly did not amount to aphrodisia. This puzzling sentiment was more of a craving to be in Alecsander's company, to hear him laugh, to listen to his cheerful jibes, to watch his eyes light up and his lips curve as he talked.
Nevertheless, it nearly broke Adeleina's heart to admit that however much she longed to stay in Alecsander's company, it was not he who had occupied her thoughts during her betrothal ball. It had been Damien of Dale who had taken on that role. Adeleina knew, should it come to a choice, as she knew it would, she would choose Damien as her betrothed for her father's sake. She knew not what kind of feud had occured between her father and Alecsander's family, but it most certainly wasn't a pleasant one considering that Alecsander hadn't even been invited to her betrothal ball.
"You've been silent for a long time," Alecsander said, his voice breaking into her thoughts. Adeleina looked up from the blade of grass she'd not even known she'd been shredding. The poor thing lay limp in her fingers now, it's vibrant green dulled into a sickly tangle of wet fibers. Adeleina tossed the tiny bundle away, but green stains still smudged her fingers.
"Alecsander, why do you bother to come see me? I'm to be betrothed and married soon to someone else." The words fell out of her mouth and into the open air before she could seal her lips and prevent their escape. Alecsander fell silent, his lips pressing together to form a tight line. Adeleina held her breath, half-regretting asking the dreaded question.
"I was hoping you'd forget the betrothed part," Alecsander replied weakly, a faltering smile on his face. He propped himself up on his elbows. "If you must know, Adeleina, I bother to see you because you draw me, you hard-hearted adamant. Tell me, are you likely to forget a foolish princess running around in the woods trying to fight off a wild bear singlehandedly?"
"I'm not likely to forget the prince riding around the woods alone saving princesses from bears," Adeleina replied, her breath coming in shallow heaves. You draw me, he had said. The words echoed in her mind, filling her ears, her head, her heart. You draw me.
"Of you wouldn't, when said prince is as fetching as I am." He winked at her shamelessly. Adeleina shook her head in despair.
"You haven't got an ounce of modesty in you," she declared, standing up and brushing her skirts. "I have to get back to the castle, the guard will have my head."
Alecsander stood too, brushing the grass from his shirt.
"Perhaps you should. I don't think your guards like me very much," he said dryly. He shot a rueful grin at her. Adeleine returned it.
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Brownie points to the first person to find the Shakespeare reference! ☆☆☆