When she arrived, she found Edmund sitting at the water’s edge, his pants pulled up above his knees and his legs disappearing into the cool blue water. He wore no shirt, his beautiful bare chest gleamed in the sunlight. Rippling abs and sculpted pecs made Blissa want to just stand there and stare at him all afternoon.
He looked toward her and smiled. “I’m glad you’re here,” he said, pulling his feet from the water and standing on the edge of the pond. He bent forward a little in a manner that made Blissa believe it was a gesture of respect.
She walked toward him, feeling all the hotter as he looked so comfortable without his shirt. Today, Blissa had worn a simple sheath dress than went to her knees, made of fairy silk. It was sheer and billowy and the fabric was a pale pink that complemented her hair.
“I hope you haven’t waited too long,” she said as she reached him.
He shook his head. “I could wait all day and night and it wouldn’t be too long.” He reached out, took her hand, and brought it to his lips, offering a slight peck. “You look lovely today. This dress suits you.”
“Thank you,” Blissa said, blushing. “I made it myself.”
“Ah, a seamstress,” he said, releasing her hand.
Blissa laughed. “Not quite. But I am a fairy of spun fabrics. I like spinning, when I get the chance.”
“You’re very good at it,” he said.
He looked up at the midday sun and wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead. “Would you like to dip your toes in the pond? Helps keep you cool on a day like today.”
Blissa nodded at Edmund, and he took her hand again and guided her to the water. He motioned for her to sit first, and then he scooted beside her. He was close enough that she could smell his musky scent. It was strong and pleasing. She was tempted to lean in and really inhale, to enjoy the masculine, alluring quality of it. Yet, she managed to refrain.
“So your whole family is fairies?” Edmund asked.
Blissa nodded, though she wasn’t inclined to speak of her family. She didn’t think they’d be pleased to know where she was.
“And your family is all human?”
Edmund nodded. “So far as I know, but both my parents are dead,” he admitted, a shadow of gloom temporarily crossing his face. “But my kind Aunt Fira raised me. She’s loved me greatly and taught me much about kindness, respect and duty.”
Fira. It was a pretty name, one she thought she’d heard long ago somewhere in the fairy kingdom. “She sounds like a wonderful human,” Blissa said.
“Yes, she is. She’d like you, I think,” he said. “When she was young, she had fiery red hair. I imagine it was similar to yours, but when she was very young, it all turned white.”
Blissa put her hand to her chin. “Is that normal?”
Edmund shook his head. “Not for most people, but Fira is far from normal, too. She’s quite extraordinary, so maybe for her it’s normal. But it doesn’t bother her. She said the flame simply burned bright enough to leave her hair a white ash. She manages happiness with what comes her way, even when others would complain.”
“That is extraordinary,” Blissa remarked. “Many a fairy would be unhappy if her hair suddenly turned white. Though I think those who want to be happy will and those who don’t want to be happy won’t.”
“And what of you?” Edmund asked. “Do you wish to be happy?”
Blissa smiled. “Of course I do,” she said. “And I try.” She pursed her lips as she looked down into the water. “I think, though, I could have been unhappy. My mother died when I was a babe, and it could have been a misery. But, like you, I had a strong aunt, a wonderful woman who cared for me. She loved me like she loved her own daughter. And, despite a few bad choices, she was a good fairy.”
Edmund patted her hand. “See, even though you are fairy and I am human, we have much in common.”
Blissa stared into his lovely eyes, her heart thumping in her chest, seemingly in rhythm with his own, and she knew he was right. He leaned forward, his lips touching hers, an instant spark between them as his kiss alighted her. She tilted toward him, enjoying his soft, sensuous lips. She was relishing his warmth when she heard her name called, loudly.
She pulled away and turned to look around. She saw nothing, and realized she’d been so distracted with Edmund that she hadn’t realized it wasn’t someone nearby. It was Maurelle, using secret speak.
Blissa, Maurelle called.
“I don’t have much time now,” Blissa called back in her mind.
“I’ve been looking for you,” Maurellle said. “I thought you were going to take a nap, but I didn’t find you in your chamber.”
“I went for a walk,” Blissa said.
“I can join you,” Maurelle said.
No, she didn’t want that. Blissa turned to look at Edmund. She shouldn’t be here. “I’ll meet you in the lower castle garden in a few minutes.”
“Are you alright?” Edmund asked.
“I’m sorry,” she said with a grimace. “I must go.”
He frowned. “Why? You just got here.”
“My cousin needs me, and I shouldn’t have ....” She didn’t want to continue with what she shouldn’t have done, because it felt like something she should have done.
“Then go to your cousin, but come back tomorrow.”
She should say no, especially after the kiss, but she didn’t want to. “Alright,” she said as she stood. “I’ll come back tomorrow, but a little later in the day, alright?”
“Any time you want. I’ll be here,” Edmund said and smiled dreamily at her, as if she were the only person in the entire world who mattered. She smiled back, turned, and headed back to the castle.
Chapter 5
Blissa found herself at the crystal pond once again to meet Edmund. She couldn’t stop herself, even though she knew she should stay away. She’d run into Maurelle before she left the castle, and she’d actually lied to her cousin about where she was going. She felt a twinge of guilt, but she knew Maurelle wouldn’t understand.
Blissa pushed away her thoughts of Maurelle and focused on Edmund. He was nothing like the humans she’d imagined. He was so much more. They’d met every afternoon for the past month, and they’d shared bits and pieces of their lives. Not all, but enough to know they were alike. Both of Edmund’s parents were dead, his mother in childbirth, and his father in a war. He’d been raised by his aunt, who was bold and fierce and taught him well. Blissa’s mother had died when she was a babe, having taken ill with a case of cricketpox. Blissa had the warmth of her father, though he had many tasks as ruler, and they’d both felt they had to fend for themselves a bit when they were young.
Edmund had told her of the world of men, while she’d told him a bit about the fairy realm and a lot about nature. He seemed intrigued by the fairy sense of unity with nature. He was eager to learn and kind and attentive, and she so enjoyed that.
He was handsome and funny and he had the most gorgeous eyes, a dazzling amber that she found entrancing. And that was the problem. He was too handsome, too attractive, and too kind. Everything about him spoke to her heart, but she couldn’t be with him. He was a man. He wasn’t a fairy, and her father’s decree had forbidden it. Even if he was considering changing his mind, he hadn’t.
Edmund tugged on her hand as he led her away from the pond, into the kingdom of men. It wasn’t forbidden for fairies to go here. They just didn’t unless their fairy duties required it. Yet, Edmund had told her there was a beautiful patch of flowers not far from here.
She enjoyed the way his hand nestled around hers as he led her through the vines that flanked the crystal pond’s entryway and out into a forest. They walked through woods a bit and then to a clearing. He talked of how much he loved the fresh air, how much he enjoyed being outside when he was younger. “I think I would be a woodsman if I could,” he said.
“A woodsman?” Blissa asked. “What does a woodsman do?”
“Oh, they make their fortune on the woods. They find trees and c
ut them for lumber.”
Blissa recoiled at that. “How many trees do they chop down?”
Edmund startled at her, and then smiled. “They replant the trees, you know,” he said. “They take trees to help build houses for people to live in and sometimes for firewood, but they still plant new ones, too. I don’t know that I’ve ever seen anyone as distressed by it as you, though.”
Blissa looked around at the many trees. She’d briefly thought a woodsman would be like a wood fairy, a person tasked with taking care of the trees in the forest, and it had sounded like a brilliant calling for him. But the prospect of cutting away trees for lumber seemed a bit cruel to the trees. However, all things had cycles. “I suppose woodsman mainly cut the older, dead trees, the ones that need be cleared away.”
Edmund paused a moment before responding, and said, “I’m not entirely sure. I hadn’t learned enough about it, since I can’t be a woodsman.”
“And why can’t you, if you so desire it?”
“I am bound to my family’s, er, business, I suppose you would call it. I have obligations that preclude me from sleeping under the stars every night and waking up to the glorious glow of the morning sun in the east.”
That was a wonderful life, one of sunshine and fresh air. As a fairy, she had some of it, but, she too, had “family obligations,” as Edmund had called it. She would rule, and she would spend less time in the heart of nature than she would like. Though she was an emotion fairy, so she always enjoyed the company of others, and that tempered any losses or perceived losses of some other joy.
She was about to ask Edmund what his family business was when he pulled her through a copse of trees and into a clearing that was filled with the most beautiful flowers she had ever seen. They were in perfect bloom and a delicate yellow in color. While she’d seen many a flower in the fairy realm, she’d never seen ones like these, so breathtaking, so soft and supple, so glorious and regal.
“Are they roses?” she asked Edmund as she delicately stepped toward one and caressed its silky petal.
“Yes,” he replied. “This area is known as the Secret Briar, and the roses manage to grow here even though no one tends to them. They have fuller petals and tiny thorns, and my aunt once told me that if you gave a briar rose to a woman you loved, she would always be yours.”
At this, Edmund bent down, plucked a rose from the ground and held it out to Blissa. She looked at his soft amber eyes, at the clear message he was offering with the flower. She wanted more than anything to reach out and take the bloom from his hand. Instead she stepped back. “Edmund, I’m a fairy,” she said.
“I know,” he said, his hand still extending the flower. “You are the fairy I am in love with. I love you, Blissa. Surely you know. I should have said it sooner, but I can contain myself no more. I am hopelessly in love with you.”
She swallowed. She was in love with him, too, but she couldn’t be. She couldn’t do this. “Fairies can’t be with humans.”
He looked at the flower in his hand, but didn’t release it. He stepped forward so he stood in front of her, only an inch or two separating them. He leaned in and planted his lips on hers, and it was electric and fiery, everything she’d wanted in the touch of another. It sent thrills through her body as he wrapped his arms around her, removing the minute gap between them. And even though she knew this wasn’t what she should be doing, she couldn’t help herself. He was everything she wanted, and his broad shoulders and sculpted chest made him the perfect fit for her.
She reveled in the joy of him for moments too long, and finally managed to pull herself away. “Edmund, we can’t,” she said shaking her head “It’s forbidden.”
“Why?”
“A human king, an evil king, mated with a fairy and he attacked us.”
Edmund grimaced and staggered backwards. “Attacked you?” he asked, his eyes widening. “You personally, not just fairies in general?”
Blissa nodded. She could feel the waves of shock and angst coming from him. It was personal and overwhelming. She moved closer to him, took his hand. “What’s wrong?”
“The king,” he whispered, shaking his head, looking bitter. “The king who attacked you, the one who made it wrong for us ... I have to tell you something about him. Something I probably should have told you in the beginning, only I hadn’t wanted you to hold against me.”
She shook her head. He was being silly. “I told you, I don’t judge all men by the acts of one.”
“But he was more than just a man to me. He was ... he was my father.”
Chapter 6
Blissa released his hand and swallowed hard. She had never seen Errol. She’d been hidden when the human had attacked. By the time her father had come to get her, all the dead fairies and men had been moved from sight. She’d had no idea at all what King Errol had looked like.
As she stared at Edmund’s handsome face, the strong jaw, the amber eyes, the luxuriant black hair, she wondered if he favored his father. Did he look like a younger version of King Errol? Would her father, upon seeing Edmund, instantly know him and attack him, fearing him the monster his father was?
She stared at that beautiful face and wondered if the heart beating beneath his chest were as wicked as his father’s. Or was he true as she’d thought he was.
“Blissa,” he said. “Please don’t hold it against me. I am not my father. It pains me to see you look so pale and upset. Beautiful still, but your skin is white as alabaster.”
“My father,” she said, her voice coming out unsteady. She cleared her throat and tried again. “My father is the one who killed your father.”
His eyes widened more and he was genuinely stunned — Blissa could feel it. She felt so much of him now. She’d grown close enough to him, attuned enough to him that she could tell when he was upset or happy or angry, or, like now, shocked. And he truly was shocked.
“I don’t know why I didn’t think,” he said, as he sat down on a grassy spot near where the briar roses grew. Blissa hesitated a moment, still a bit stunned herself, then sat beside him. He turned to her and spoke. “I suppose I suspected yours was the fairy kingdom he invaded, but I had no idea that you were related to the king. When you said he had attacked you, I thought you’d been in the castle, not that you were the one he sought to murder.” He shook his head. “I thought all fairies had the prospect of being unyieldingly beautiful. I should have known yours is the grace and beauty befitting a monarch.”
Blissa blushed and shook her head, her auburn curls bouncing in the process. “You flatter me too much, Edmund. I am a fairy, and I try to be happy and I try to do what’s right, and now that we know our history, it is even more reason for us to part company.”
He shook his head, and grabbed her hand. “But I don’t want to part company, Blissa. For the past weeks, I’ve dreamt of nothing but you. I’ve thought of no one but you. You have stolen my heart.”
His words could have applied to herself, too. He had managed to take hold of her heart, even though she hadn’t expected it, even though she hadn’t planned it.
He leaned in again and kissed her. She didn’t stop him, even though she should. Even though some part of her mind knew his father had been awful, she had seen enough of his heart to know that he was not awful. He was not unkind.
His fingers lightly stroked her cheeks, leaving a trail of heat in its wake. He leaned back, tugging her with him into the soft patch of grass, and his hands found her back. Gentle fingers glided the length of her torso, stroking sensually and she felt as if she melted into him, savoring his kiss, his musky scent, his essence.
She pulled away. “Edmund, we shouldn’t,” she panted.
She sat up again, straightened her dress, and turned away. She couldn’t look at him, not at those entrancing eyes, or she’d have no resolve whatsoever.
“You think I’m like my father?” he asked. “You think I want to steal your kingdom?”
Blissa startled. She could feel the hurt coming from him. “No,�
� she said forcefully. “I don’t think any such thing. I just. I don’t want ...”
He stared up at her waiting and as she looked into that yearning face, one that seemed to want only her, she couldn’t quite figure out what she didn’t want. Because she knew she did want him. She wanted him more than anything she could ever remember wanting in all her life. What she didn’t want was to have to explain. Not to her father, and not to Maurelle. “My family,” she said, finally. “I don’t think they’d understand.”
“Your father, you mean?”
She nodded, though she was less worried about him than Maurelle.
“My father is dead,” Edmund said. “Your father left one man alive to return to the castle and tell us that the great Errol was gone, and return what was left of him. And do you know that many in my kingdom, in surrounding kingdoms, celebrated?” Edmund sat up, too, looking sober. “Not in front of me, of course, but you could tell. I knew my father was hated, by his own people, no less. My aunt was stoic and brave and as tough as any man ever was. Tougher than my father. Probably should have inherited the kingdom, but my grandfather sought a male heir and left it to my father. But my aunt, she taught me I didn’t have to be like my father, making war, instilling fear, breeding hate, and I have done my best to be the kind of ruler that deserves his people’s sacrifice and instills in them in a love of their nation and their king. My aunt has trained me to believe in myself and to do what is right. And if I am doing what is right, it should not matter to me if my aunt agrees, for I will know it is right. And if I am doing what is right, I would be able to convince her that it is right, because she is a good and righteous person.”
Blissa’s mouth popped open, unable to hide her surprise at his suggestions. He was right. A person of good will, a person who was just could convince others of his justness. At least, he could convince others who wished to be just, others who were fair.
Finding Bliss Page 3