by Narro, B. T.
There was nothing seductive in her tone, but her words alone gave his stomach a twist.
Chapter 4
There were two guards outside the door to Jessend’s room. One of them turned to unlock it for her.
“You can leave us,” Jessend said. “With a lock on the door and Cleve beside me, I won’t need your protection.”
“Yes, my lady.”
One guard turned as he left, studying Cleve. He seemed to approve, turning back without a word.
Entering, Cleve never would’ve guessed this room belonged to a princess if Jessend hadn’t told him. There were five different bows hung on a wall. She lit the two lamps before closing the door and locking it. The light they gave danced along the bows, making Cleve want to touch them.
He ran his finger down the black longbow in the middle. It reminded him of his own that was somewhere in King Welson’s castle in Kyrro, at least he hoped it was. For all he knew, it could’ve been given to a guard who was in the midst of mistreating it, leaving it out in the rain or hanging it by the string when not in use.
“It looks like yours, doesn’t it?” Jessend took it down and handed it to Cleve.
He ran his thumb halfway down the wood. “But it feels completely different.”
Jessend slid her fingertips down his arm, as if searching for familiarity. She let her hand drop and turned away from him.
“I’m going to rinse my face and change.” Her voice was distant, like a painful memory had just struck her. She grabbed some clothes from the nearby wardrobe and went into the adjacent room. “Have some wine,” she told him before closing the door.
He took off his coat. Well, he tried to. The straps seemed to be buttoned on his back as well as his front. He undid the buttons down the center and tried to twist the coat around to undo the rest, but it got stuck.
Frustrated, he decided he would have some wine first, pouring himself a glass.
When Jessend came out, he planned to tell her that he didn’t want to marry her. He figured the wine would help with the process. The thought of what she might say or do made him dreadfully nervous, but he knew the sooner he got it over with the better.
Even more than being nervous, he felt pain, an ache in his heart. He imagined what it would be like to finally return to Kyrro, grab Reela, and lean down to kiss her, only for her to stop him and tell him she cared for someone else.
I might not be able to do this, he realized, quickly finishing his glass of wine and pouring another.
By the time Jessend came out, he was on his fourth glass, and his feverish nervousness had finally begun to calm.
She giggled when she saw him. “Let me help you with that.” His coat—somehow he’d forgotten he’d never gotten it off.
As she came over, he noticed she’d changed into some sort of nightgown. It was made of a light fabric of beige color, and it covered her completely.
“Take off your shoes,” she told him when his coat was off. “Get comfortable.”
“Jessend.” He tried to tell her when he knelt down to untie them, but he couldn’t finish the sentence aloud. I don’t want to marry you.
“Yes?” She seemed to sense his anxiousness, her brow now furrowed.
“I…” Cleve sighed. Why do women turn me into such a coward?
Jessend let out a light nervous giggle. “Are you scared of me?”
With his bare feet against the rug, he stood as tall as he could and looked down at her. “I’m not.”
Her giggle grew to a laugh. “How much wine did you drink? Your whole mouth is dark.”
Cleve licked his lips and teeth, tasting the residue quite strongly. “Three and a half glasses.”
“In just that time I was in the bathroom?”
Cleve nodded.
Her mouth twisted, her eyes squinting. “I had a suspicion you didn’t drink.”
“I usually don’t.”
That seemed to sadden her. Her gaze went to the rug. “I see.”
“Jessend, there’s something I need to tell you.”
“You don’t love me.”
That was a start, at least. He felt courage knowing he just had to go from there. “No,” he said.
“Did you think I love you?” She went to the wine and poured herself a glass. “I’m not insane. I don’t fall in love the moment I meet a handsome man. Of course we don’t love each other yet. Is this what you’re worried about, that you don’t love me?”
“Not just that.”
“I know you want to go back to Kyrro,” she said. “You’re worried about the people you left behind. But Cleve, you’re needed here as well. You don’t know the monster that’s waiting for me if you leave. And even if you go!” She surprised him by shouting. “You won’t be welcomed back by your king.”
Jessend stood next to the table with the wine, shifting her eyes between Cleve and the chair before her. Without thinking, Cleve found himself walking over to pull out the chair for her, pushing it in as she sat. He joined her on the other side of the table.
“It’s fine that you have worries,” she told him, her tone calm once again. “I do, too. You haven’t even been in Goldram one day. Just take some time before you jump to any conclusions. For now, drink with me.”
She held up her glass.
He did the same.
She was right. Tonight wasn’t the time to tell her. With immense relief, he sipped his wine, focusing on the taste for the first time. He didn’t like it, too bitter.
Several hours later he’d lost track of both time and how many glasses of wine he’d had. He learned that Jessend knew many card games, and she was either excellent at all of them or Cleve was terrible.
When Cleve grew tired of losing, he started blatantly cheating, finding more amusement in what he could get away with than in actually winning.
He asked Jessend about a painting on the wall behind her, looking at her cards when she turned. When he was about to lose, he pretended to sneeze and mixed up his cards with the deck. To his amazement, she either pretended not to know or really didn’t notice him doing it, for she said nothing.
When she went to use the chamber pot in the other room, and he switched his hand with hers, he thought surely she would say something this time. But no, she came back…and even beat him without mentioning it.
He couldn’t stand it any longer. Before he knew it, he was out of his seat and shaking her by the shoulders. “How have you not noticed I’m cheating?”
She burst into laughter as if she’d been holding it in for hours. She stood as well, grabbing his hands to playfully wrestle. “Of course I noticed. I just wanted to see how far you would go.”
“You’re such a good actor!” Cleve couldn’t believe it.
He knelt down to throw her body over his shoulder. She screamed with a giggle as he hoisted her into the air.
“But there’s no way you can knock me off my feet without your guards around,” Cleve said, a warmth from the wine making him want to take his shirt off and wrestle.
“Put me down and we’ll see about that.” Her voice had a competitive edge to it.
He let her body slide down through his arms. Instantly, she grabbed his waist and tried to pull him over her foot. He stumbled a bit but found his balance, tightening every muscle and getting low.
She pushed his shoulders, but he barely moved. She tried to step into him to shove his chest, but he grabbed her hands and pulled them out to the side.
She stepped back and hummed in thought. In another attempt to catch him off guard, she ran and jumped at him, but he moved to the side, and she crashed onto the floor.
From the way she was laughing as she rolled along the rug, he knew not to ask if she was hurt.
“Give up yet?” Cleve asked instead.
She rose to her knees, sticking out her rear as she laughed uncontrollably. But it was another trick. With amazing agility, she spun and jumped to him, wrapping her legs and arms around his torso.
The force of her petite body
still was enough to make him slip. He felt his back and head slam into the rug, and a groan of pain sputtered out of him.
Jessend gasped. “I’m sorry!”
It just took a moment for him to realize he wasn’t injured. A small laugh escaped from his lips. “Don’t be.”
As Jessend climbed off him, he felt her hands on his bare legs. Only then did he realize he didn’t have his pants on anymore. He vaguely remembered removing them during some ridiculous scheme to distract her so he could cheat.
His weariness had caught up with him by the time he was back on his feet. He looked at the bed eagerly.
“It’s definitely time for me to rest,” he said.
“Just stay here.” She spoke indifferently, even giving a shrug. “There’s plenty of room in my bed.”
She guided him onto it before he could think of an excuse, not that he really wanted to come up with one. He lay down on his back, hoping if he closed his eyes he and Jessend might fall asleep without anything happening.
It was hard to ignore the rustles of the bed as she made herself comfortable beside him. Flipping onto her side, she let her arm drape over his stomach. He felt the urge to touch her as well but stopped himself from reaching for her arm.
It’s possible to find comfort in a woman’s touch without being attracted to her, isn’t it? Or does this mean I’m starting to like her? He forced himself to think about what it would be like to kiss her, as a test.
Luckily, he felt no flutter in his heart, no tingle down his back. Then his mind went to Reela, the way she’d pushed her lips against his in the dungeons beneath Welson Kimard’s castle.
That brought him out of his numb state. He could feel his blood pumping through his body. With it, his worry was relieved, so he put his arm around Jessend, knowing she couldn’t make him feel the way Reela did.
She snuggled closer, propping her head on his shoulder. He was blanketed in comfort and slowly began slipping into sleep.
A kiss to his cheek brought him back. “Don’t sleep just yet,” she uttered into his ear.
He looked to his side to find her eyes wide and staring.
“Were you planning on never kissing me?” She spoke in an overly cute voice.
“Yes,” he dumbly admitted.
Her eyes squinted in concern. She sat up. “My Bastial stars, Cleve. What’s so wrong with me?” All the sweetness was gone from her tone.
He sat up as well. Feeling dizzy, it took a breath for him to gather his thoughts. The first thing that came to mind were excuses. You’re too short. You’re too thin. You’re too rich. Your hands feel like a child’s. They flew by like arrows, there and gone in an instant. He knew they weren’t reasons why he wouldn’t kiss her. There was really only one answer to that.
“I want someone else…someone back in Kyrro. Nothing is wrong with you. I like you.” He was surprised to find it was the truth. “But I can’t give up on this other woman.”
Jessend folded her arms as if she’d abruptly gotten cold. “And she feels this way about you?”
“Yes.”
“You realize that even if you go back, you’ll only see her when she visits your prison cell.”
Cleve didn’t see that as the truth. He would find a way to prove his loyalty to Kyrro. He just needed another chance. But he wasn’t about to argue against Jessend. There was no point.
“So, it’s this girl who has caused you to be so distant?”
Cleve found it strange how sometimes he’d notice her accent more pronounced than usual. With her hands now on her hips as she spoke of Reela, her low voice and noble inflections were extremely prominent.
“It is.” He reached out to touch her knee. “I do appreciate everything you’ve done for me. I feel I owe a debt to you. But I must go back to Kyrro. Rek and I must both go back.”
She bit her lip, looking as if she wanted to cry as she took in a breath through her nose. “I can’t just help you back to Kyrro. Even if I wanted to, that’s not something I can do. I don’t own a ship, nor do I command a crew. And to be honest, I don’t want you to go.”
She grabbed his hand. “Cleve, I like you, but you’re mad. How can you possibly believe you’ll be returning to Kyrro? The only way that would happen is with help from my father—a lot of help. Stay by me. Help our family. In time, you may be able to request a ship, but certainly not without something to give for it.” Her shoulders slumped. “I think that’s the fairest I can be, given the circumstances. But if you’re leaving, you’d better wait until I find someone else. I’m not marrying Kasko Lage, that monster.”
Completely surprised by her cooperation, he leaned forward and squeezed her. “That’s more than fair.”
“Who knows,” she uttered with difficulty from his tight embrace, “maybe when that time comes, you won’t want to leave anymore.”
So that’s her plan, he realized. She thinks if I spend enough time with her I’ll change my mind. That’s why she’s not so upset by this.
Her hands came up to his face. “But you have to do something for me right now. And I’d better not have to ask for it or tell you what it is.”
Cleve understood. He closed his eyes and put his mouth against hers.
They tried to move their lips once they were touching, but it was sloppy and uncoordinated.
Jessend pushed him away. With a tilted head, she looked confused.
“Let’s try that again.”
Cleve felt a dry swallow as he leaned in. This time their lips connected like a handshake…perhaps too much like a handshake, gripping each other tightly and then getting lost as they came loose.
She pushed him away harder this time, making a sour face. “Are you doing that on purpose?”
“Doing what?”
“I don’t know,” Jessend let her voice trail off. “It feels strange, but I don’t know why.”
“It does. But I’m not doing anything on purpose to make it that way.” That’s how I kissed Reela, and it worked far better than this, he almost said.
“Kiss me again. Kiss me like you mean it, like I’m this other girl.” Her grossly obvious plan was coming out even more now. She figured with enough time he could learn to feel the same way about her that he did for Reela. She didn’t even seem concerned about hiding it.
Cleve was so confident it wouldn’t work, he wasn’t worried.
They tried a third time, and their lips fell into a smooth pattern. There was rhythmic smacking as they pressed their lips to each other’s. But Cleve felt no urge for more of her like he did for Reela. He didn’t mind the kiss, yet he didn’t long for it, either.
But soon he changed his mind. The kiss was becoming strange, like how he would feel if he and Effie kissed. He felt obligated to keep his lips against hers, though.
Luckily, she pulled away. Her face said it all. “I feel like I’m kissing my brother.”
“It’s the same for me.”
“But why?”
“Because I’m not who you want me to be,” Cleve told her.
Sadness began to swell in her glistening eyes. “And I’m not either, am I?”
“No.” No girl is like Reela.
Her gaze drifted away, and Cleve could see the deep pain on her face.
“That’s how it was with the last man I was with,” she said. “I thought it would go away.” Tears began to roll down her cheek, though her voice didn’t waver. “Ever since the first man I loved died, kissing everyone else has been like this. Why can’t I feel the same way I did with him?”
Cleve could feel the same hurt squeezing his chest. “I know what it’s like to lose someone like that.” Tired, he decided to ease her down onto her side, wrapping his arm around her as he lay beside her.
“You loved a girl you lost?” Jessend asked, wiping her tears.
“A little different than that. My parents were killed.” The familiar ache of death surged through his body. With a tight stomach, he could feel himself wanting to cry. Images of the men he’d killed earlier tw
irled through his mind, spinning so violently he wondered if he was going to vomit.
He sat up and got ready to jump off the bed if needed. He closed his eyes and focused on his breathing.
Soon he was meditating, pulling in Bastial Energy to feel the warmth push out his panic.
He exhaled, letting it all out and opening his eyes. Jessend’s hand was on his back. He’d almost broken down, but now that he hadn’t, he felt strangely strong. Especially with Jessend there—someone who knew what he was feeling.
They gazed into each other’s eyes, no words exchanged. Yet, he felt he was having a conversation.
We share the same pain. Do you know how to get rid of it?
He let his body back down, and she turned away and followed. He pulled her into him, holding her small body tightly. She kissed his arm and squeezed him as well.
“Both parents?” Jessend asked.
“Yes.”
“That’s terrible. How old were you?”
The pain he thought was gone came back with the memories of their faces. It was starting to overwhelm him, so he took a breath and pulled Jessend into him even harder. A soft whimper escaped from her, but she didn’t seem to object, pressing his arms down on her with her small hands.
“It’s very difficult to talk about,” he managed to utter.
She spun around to face him, burying her face against his neck and blowing. It made a flatulent sound and tickled him to the point of bursting laughter.
At first he was angry, but then she pulled away smiling, and he realized the pain was gone again.
She spun back around, nestling her back and rear against him once again.
“It’s easier to forget, to leave the memories buried rather than deal with them. Isn’t it?” Jessend said, her solemn tone a stark contrast to her recent playful attempt at making him laugh.
He held her close. “It is, but easier isn’t always healthier. I was nine when it happened.” The familiar feeling of wanting to cry came over him. But as usual, it felt like he didn’t know how. It was like something was holding him, preventing him from letting out the tears, from opening himself up.
It was the barrier, he realized. It was the wall he’d been building throughout the years, the one that kept his emotions trapped where he wouldn’t feel them. He could feel himself pushing against it. Deep down, his emotions were swelling, the force of them causing the wall to bend.