“But do you want him?”
Fingering the delicate glass beads sewn into the bodice of the gown, I knew I didn’t really have to think about it. As much as I hadn’t wanted to admit it to myself, I did. I totally did. So I let out a breathy, “Yes.”
But…did he still want me? Or had he already mentally tucked me into that group of women who would just hurt him and leave him? Just the thought of being in the same category as his mother, who essentially abandoned him, made me feel ill.
But then I thought about the way he’d held me last night as we lay next to each other. How his thumb had caressed my wrist, my hand. How he’d laced his fingers around mine and hadn’t let go.
And somehow I knew, deep down, that he never would.
“I need to go for a walk.” I got up and carefully stored the dress back in its box. “I’ll be back to help with lunch and to set up for the Maypole.”
“Have some breakfast first?” Caitlyn said.
“Not hungry. But thanks! I just have some thinking to do.”
And that’s exactly what I did as I made my way along a dusty path that led to the amphitheater where William and Doug would face off tomorrow. I wound up the trail amidst dried-out brush, various types of high desert flora, darting lizards and the occasional beetle. I kept my feet on the ground and my eyes locked on the distant bluish Sierras that cut into the horizon in the east. The sun wasn’t that bad yet. As it was still spring, it would be warm today, but not unbearably so.
I hugged myself as I stood there, feeling small and insignificant amongst all the natural beauty. My doubts and fears felt so insignificant in the face of the massive universe all around me.
I thought about Brock and me, two tiny specks in that universe. I thought about how much I still loved him. How much I’d held fast to the belief that he was the one person for me. Now my feelings for William were tearing that belief to shreds, and I had to come to terms with that.
I couldn’t help but think of that reading I did days before, specifically the Moon card. The Moon and Earth, two more specks in the universe—albeit much larger specks. The Moon pulled and tugged the tides of the Earth, causing movement in the tides. Causing confusion, uncertainty, untruth. That card was a warning that I’d been deceiving myself.
Deceiving myself with my own misguided beliefs.
The realization took my breath away, and I blinked as I tried to catch the next one, knotting and then unknotting my sweaty hands.
“I don’t know what to do,” I said out loud to the Universe. The breeze seemed to carry my words away into the distance. My eyes closed, and suddenly I heard a voice in my head.
Go to him. Be with him.
My heartbeat sped up, and yet…I couldn’t help but feel that pang of disloyalty.
“Brock, what should I do?” I said to the air, hoping the breeze would answer me.
Be happy. I want you to be happy.
Whether it was a spirit or my imagination saying the things I knew Brock would say, I’d never know. But that message was clear in my mind, followed immediately by another.
Stay, stay. Stay, stay.
Brock was my past. And how very blessed I was to have known him and to have loved him. But William…William could be my future. If I’d just let him in.
***
I had no chance to speak to William before lunch, as we were both so heavily involved in the set-up for the Beltane celebration. And at the center of it all was the Maypole—a smoothly cut log that had been buried a few feet into the ground by some of the stronger men in our group. At the very top, colorful ribbons were attached, radiating out like the spokes of a bicycle wheel. The end of each green, yellow, red, pink and purple ribbon was staked down in the ground in a circle around the clearing. This was where we would be dancing.
All those who were unattached circled the ring, alternating men and women. We each pulled up the end of the ribbon nearest us and took it in hand. When it was time to claim our places, William was reluctantly pushed into the fray by a group of the unavailable women, who cheered him on from where they stood outside the ring, waiting for us to start the dance. I marveled at how far he’d come. Months ago, he never would have participated in an event like this.
William faced me across the circle, sending me a smile that could only be described as a slight upward curvature of his lips. I smiled back until his head ducked and his eyes sank away from my gaze. My heart danced—and not necessarily in anticipation of the music.
I sucked in a sudden breath at the obvious but beautiful thought that William made me happy.
But what did that mean?
Doug stood beside me, throwing dirty looks at both William and me. But William did not notice or even look at Doug, so I followed his example and ignored Doug too.
Suddenly, the music started—a lute, a drum and a fiddle all playing a simple period melody for the Maypole Dance. We began the straightforward trip around the Maypole according to ancient custom: a step, a hop and a bow or curtsy to our neighbor. A steady breeze blew as we wove in and out amongst each other, our ribbons growing shorter by the minute. Soon, the Maypole was clothed in a beautiful intertwined pattern consisting of a multitude of bright colors.
I passed my friends, mystified by their awkward smiles, winks and laughs as we acknowledged each other. At first I thought nothing of it, then slowly I started to get the feeling I was the butt of some joke. Maybe they were silently teasing me about William.
I studied the pole without realizing how often I was weaving in and out of my neighbors and dancing partners. I didn’t even make an extra effort to meet William’s eyes each time we passed each other. I kept my eyes on that pole until I realized that my ribbon was growing very short.
And as the person with the shortest ribbon, I was the one who got tied to the pole by everyone else’s ribbons, which made me the official May Queen. It wasn’t long before my fellow dancers pressed me up against the pole, using their extra length of ribbon to tie me there, as was custom.
As the first to run out of my ribbon, Fate had chosen me to be the May Queen. My friends circled closer, offering me congratulations with huge grins on their faces. Eventually, when they reached the ends of their ribbons, they pressed kisses on my cheek.
For a quick, stressful moment, I thought Doug would be the last man standing. But when he faced me with his ribbon, instead of bending to kiss me, he grimaced and walked away, leaving the person behind him in plain view to me. The last man holding a ribbon end was now the May King.
William stood soberly in front of me as people whooped and hollered their congratulations. When my gaze met his, I blushed to the roots of my hair as everyone around us clapped their hands in time to the music and chanted, “Kiss her! Kiss her!”
He smiled down at me, clearly pleased, and I, equally pleased, grinned back at him. Finally, after a few more seconds of goading, he bent his head just as I tilted my head back, more than ready to meet his mouth.
When at last he kissed me, it was delicious. The moment my lips parted, his tongue was there, tasting me, and I felt it flash like lightning through my body. His hands rested on my hips, and gently he tried to tug me toward him. Though, tied down as I was by the ribbons on the pole, I couldn’t go to him.
“Huzzah!” called our baron, Lord de Bricasse. “The Fates have now chosen our May Queen and King. All hail! Let us open these Beltane festivities with their coronation!”
I was released by Caitlyn, who hugged me while whispering in my ear that the group of ladies had rigged the dance to work out the way it had by ensuring that I started with the shortest ribbon, and William, the longest. I gave her a stern look, suddenly understanding their snickering and cheeky looks. But then my face melted into a grin, which she quickly returned. I thanked her, and in the next second, I had a crown of beautiful wildflowers placed on my head with ribbons streaming down the back.
I turned to watch as they crowned the May King, taking a moment to marvel that the crowd during the dan
ce had hardly appeared to faze him. William’s crown was much more Spartan, made of laurel and ivy vines woven together in a masculine style.
At the crowd’s request—and much less required this time than before—we kissed again as they sang and cheered. I murmured against his mouth, “I have to get dressed for the feast and dancing.”
His hold only tightened and his mouth continued to move over mine, claiming it again and again, leaving me breathless.
“C’mon, Wil, you have to let me go.” I reluctantly pulled back from him.
“I’m the king. I don’t have to do anything I don’t want to do,” he responded, kissing me again, even as the crowd started to dissipate in preparation for the evening celebration.
Thrill surged through me and my eyes fluttered closed. I’d wondered if he still wanted me like I now knew I wanted him. I guess I had my answer.
Intense joy crackled within, hot as sunlight. The only thing that could make this more perfect was…“But I want to wear that gorgeous new dress you bought for me.”
He froze and slowly, ever so slowly, pulled away. “Even though I’ve pictured it clearly, I’d love to see you wearing it.”
“Thank you. You shouldn’t have done it.”
“But I did. And I’m the king, so I can do whatever I want.”
I laughed. “You’re really loving that new title, aren’t you?”
He smiled, lifting a hand to brush his thumb across my cheek. “It’s good to be the king.”
“Maybe tonight you’ll get to see me…not wearing the dress, too.”
His brows pinched and his eyes grew intense. “I don’t have to imagine that, because I’ve already seen it. I just have to remember it.”
And maybe look forward to it. If I was very, very lucky.
“Wil, there’s something I need to tell you—”
He kissed me again. We were now alone in the empty clearing, as everyone else had gone back to their tents or to circulate amongst the booths.
“Tell me in between kisses,” he said, his voice raspy with a harsh edge to it. That edge dragged across my senses, the scratch made by a lover during a passionate moment. I swallowed my thready heartbeat and suppressed the vertigo of someone about to step off a precipice into the unknown below.
“I want to stay, Wil. I want us to be together. I want to see where this takes us.” He froze, his eyes on my shoulder, his features revealing no reaction whatsoever.
Had he heard me? Oh no…maybe he’d changed his mind. “If—if that’s what you still want, of course....” I added, hating how my voice squeaked when I said it.
He let loose a gruff laugh. “You have to ask me that?”
I shrugged, self-conscious. “People change their minds…”
“I don’t,” he said, his voice as hard as the granite rocks in the hills around us. “But I need to be sure that you are certain.”
I nodded. “I am…I’ve been giving it a lot of thought.” Nonstop, obsessive thought at that.
Slowly, tenderly, he kissed me on the cheek. “And your job?”
“I plan on asking for it back.”
He kissed my chin. “And what about school?”
“I want to finish, once I’ve saved up the money.”
He kissed my nose. “And what about the Renaissance Faire?”
“I’ll tell them they need to find someone else to read—” I was cut off by his mouth landing on mine again, his strong hands pulling me to him. As our bodies pressed together, my breath hissed out of my chest. And when he finished the kiss, he pulled away, only to lay his forehead against mine. “You’ve made me very happy, Jenna. Very happy. But that’s not even a fraction of the way I want to make you feel.”
I smiled. “Wil, you already do…”
We hugged and then I excused myself, reminding him that I could hardly contain my excitement to wear the beautiful blue dress. He reluctantly let me go with still more kisses to punctuate our breathless sentences.
Caitlyn snatched up the hairbrush the minute I entered the tent. “There you are. You weren’t answering your text messages!”
“Sorry, I was, um…tied up.”
She smirked. “Funny. Come on, Ann and I are going to braid your hair.”
And that’s exactly what they did. They braided my hair along my crown, threading in the matching ribbon that had come in the box from Agnes. After that, Ann helped me put on the dress and carefully laced my corset up my back. It was definitely one instance where I wished I had a full-length mirror to admire myself.
Because I felt like a princess. Papa once told me that I was a princess—and that someday I’d be a queen. Now it wasn’t a lie. He’d been right. I was the May Queen.
And William was my king. Every time I thought of him, pictured him, remembered the taste of him on my lips, my stomach fluttered. And with each minute that passed until I could see him again, that excitement grew.
The evening started with the feast. Roasted chicken and bread with boiled vegetables by candlelight—the one exception to our open-flame rule, and only because the candles were all covered by glass lanterns. We did not eat with our hands.
Picnic benches had been lined up, and I sat at one end and William at the other in our places of honor. We talked to our neighbors, occasionally catching each other’s eye before William’s gaze stole away like an elusive ninja. It became somewhat of a game, to try and catch his eyes on mine. He caught onto me, I think, because he started to smile whenever I caught him watching at me.
And then he turned the game around on me, piercing me with his dark stare that reflected the golden candlelight. When our eyes locked, everything else around us seemed to vanish. It was only us.
My throat tightened and I swallowed, admiring him in his fine new tunic, which—not coincidentally, I’m sure—matched my dress. Despite everything going on around me, I could only think of later tonight when I hoped that we’d have time to spend together.
Alone.
Chapter 28
William
After leaving Jenna, I dress quickly, return to the clearing to wait…and wait. Almost an hour. Late again, Mistress Kovac!
One of the clanswomen tells me to be patient, that Jenna is busy “prettying herself up.” Completely unnecessary, in my opinion. How can you improve on perfection? The features and hair of an angel, the glowing skin and body of a goddess. And a heart of pure gold.
My heart speeds up as those thoughts lead where they usually do. What if I’m not enough for her? What if I can’t get her heirloom back tomorrow? What if I’m not …worthy?
I’m dressed in my new tunic, finely crafted by Agnes. Our clan seamstress has done an excellent job with the stitching on the sleeves, especially. And the embroidery itself is a work of art. Knowing what kind of effort it takes to produce an item of beauty, I’m always appreciative of these efforts in others.
My tunic matches the beautiful gown that Agnes made for Jenna. When she finally enters the clearing, all heads turn in her direction. It’s not difficult to understand why. The shades of blue next to her pale skin look as beautiful as I knew they would. In fact, they look better. And she walks in like the queen that she is, graceful, her chin tilted up a little—probably conscious of the crown of flowers in her golden hair. Beautiful.
I can’t draw the next breath, and I’m pretty certain I’ve completely forgotten any hunger I had for the food in front of me. She flashes me a smile and apologizes for being late, but says she wanted to do the dress justice. I watch Jenna’s lips as she talks, remembering how she tasted just an hour ago. Sweeter than ever, because she told me she would stay. And right now, all I want to do is take her in my arms and make her mine—for real.
Everyone around us is admiring her and Lord de Bricasse speaks up. “We haven’t had a May Queen this beautiful since…”
Never. I mentally complete for him, though he’s joking that it’s been since the previous Beltane.
After our feast, the fire is lit in the specially designated
area for a campfire. And it’s a massive bonfire, the heat singeing our faces and hands. Everyone is clapping and cheering as the flames reach higher and higher. Lord Ryleigh, or “Joe,” as he is known in his mundane life, breaks out his fiddle, and we begin to assemble in the space around the fire.
In the past, I made it a point to leave before the dancing began, because dancing inevitably meant crowds. But tonight nothing will stop me from dancing holding my Jenna—her body close to mine. My face next to hers. The smell of her hair and skin in my nostrils.
We start with easy formations based on English country dancing. Lady Ryleigh, Joe’s wife, is an expert in recreational European folk dance and has taught most of us how to do it. I’ve been brushing up with videos and Youtube.
Without question, I’m paired with Jenna, and I wonder at the lucky coincidence that brought us together as King and Queen. I’d almost start adopting Jenna’s belief in fate if I didn’t find it so silly.
As I watch her, I imagine the tiara on her head instead of the May crown. Determination steels me. Tomorrow, I’ll get it back for her and I’ll humiliate Doug in the process. I don’t care what he thinks of me or what he’s said. I don’t even care that the stakes are high for me, too. Because if I lose, I won’t be able to come back here and be with all my friends. That concerns me, but it’s not the worst thing that could happen.
No, all I care about is getting that tiara back for Jenna. Making her happy. Being worthy of her.
Her thin hands in mine feel good as we clasp them together and spin slowly first to the left and then to the right. Stepping back, I bow and she curtsies ,then we execute the complex but repetitive steps. I find myself looking down at my feet often, which not only helps me avoid tripping over my own feet but also to evade accidental eye contact.
I don’t want to make a wrong move, and I definitely don’t want to step on her toes. I want this night to be perfect. I’ve run everything through my head a thousand times and it should be perfect. We’ll dance. We’ll kiss. And more.
But what if I can’t get her what she needs? What if I can’t be her champion tomorrow? What if I disappoint her? That thought sets my heart beating faster than it should based on this light physical activity. Because now my fears are taking over and they’re all I can see.
For The One (Gaming The System Book 5) Page 28