novelxo Chapter ~Stealing Kisses~
When we have reached the Sula province, our temporal accommodation is on the border of a dense forest that sidles the Tent-city. Our encampment has been set up already for us, lavish tents the size of palatial bedchambers. The inside is ornamented with layers of sumptuous drapings, and the ground is coated with regal coverlets. The opulent ones are reserved for the Duce, the Herems, and I, each with our own. The rest have standard tents, the horses even have their own makeshift stables.
The first thing I must do is change out of the heavy-duty leather that makes me appear like a female renegade but rather into something simpler and loose-fighting, dare I say decorative. I fish out a dress, a token from my time in Sorcia. The only one to survive. I make the trade. Once I have it on, I admire the light and soft material. I cannot tell if it’s me or Sula’s weather, but it feels humid, the air stuff, and my hands are even clammy.
The scarlet dress is strapless, only with a high collar tied round my neck with an attached single gold chain that elongates down my bare back, open like the dual leg slits. I pair it with the only set of shoes I have other than my boots. Sandy-coloured sandals.”
“Aurora.”
I swivel around and Vince lifts up the flap of the tent and enters boldly.
“Brennon, Treyton, and I are heading into the city; I was wondering if you could honour us with your company.” His eyes freely roam my body, his eyes a-dazzle with wonder. “You are certainly dressed for it.”
I breeze over the compliment. “Treyton and Brennon?” Unable to suppress my surprise. “I suppose brushes with death certainly force people closer.”
He quirks his thick brows. “It seems so.” His attention on me shifts from flattery to scrutiny.
“Will you come?”
I shrug thoughtfully. “Are we even allowed to go?”
A look of disdain skitters across his face. “I voiced our intentions. Primus Kelan ordered his second-in-command and a few others to tail us. And they have stringent directives to stay out of our sights.”
A twinge prickles my chest. Usually, Primus Kelan would oversee leisure outings by himself.
I nod too quickly. “Yes, I will come.”
He strides to me as if he foresaw my consent and begins to fiddle with the scarf. “First, let me remove this awful thing.” He unknots it and starts to unravel it from my head. I let him.
“There is a reason why I was wearing it.”
He plucks it off and my plait falls.
“There.” He balls it and pitches at the bed, buried under heaps of pillows. “Now I can behold all of your beauty, which there is no reason that qualifies to have it hidden.”
He jerks his head back, and I follow him out. Then we assemble with Brennon and Treyton, all three of them dressed casually. Brennon wears a tangerine-coloured, finely woven vest embossed with chips of precious stone worn over a billowy, long-sleeved blouse. In contrast to him, Vince is attired in his sleeveless leather vest that moulds into muscle with his trademark bands strapped to his biceps.
Treyton is the only one among them that embodies the term ‘casual’ dressed in a simple, short-sleeved garment, so unadorned that you would disbelieve that he is highborn, a Herem no less. Our encampment is positioned directly before the treeline of the forest, the journey we take on foot, its short distance and located further east.
“Since we all are here, why does Markiveus remain?”
He glances over at me, flinging me a jeering look. “He was informed, but he knew that Vince would rope you along, and that thought alone sent him running.”
“Brennon,” Treyton says exasperatedly.
“What?” he says in genuine confusion. “We all know he loathes her. I am not much of an admirer myself, but it is a principle of civility. I know when to pick up a blade and when to put on a smile.” He releases a scathing laugh. “And we have all seen her fight; which is my sword is sheathed.”
“Brennon, if you were going to continue crow like the prissrat you are, turn back now,” Vince advises.
“At ease, Vinny,” Brennon sneers, testing the limit. “I am only mentioning one of the many things about her that you and the rest choose to blind yourself to.” He counts them on his fingers. “Where and who taught her how to fight, what power does she possess that she could decimate shadow soldiers in a blaze of glory.”
Then he tosses his hand at me. “And why is her suddenly dark in most parts and light in the others? No wonder the Adon confused her with a halfling.”
“Are you finished?” I snap, frustration nips at me. “Like you, I can be civil, I prefer civility. Until unleashing my anger looks a lot more alluring.”
Brennon scoffs but withholds a retort.
When we reach Tent-city, I am astonished. It is a lot bigger than I imagined. The city is clustered with buildings that are two or more storeys high, congested with growing swarms of people, even some on horseback. Above the streets, drapings hang over from balcony to balcony, creating a spontaneous ceiling of travelling drapes. The day market beckons the masses, stalls with awnings that have a kaleidoscope of colours, a million different shades of diverse hues.
A medley of fragrances abounds, spicy smells tingle my nose. My eyes gloss over the merchandise, a variety of odd contraptions and antique-looking trinkets, many have splendid, hand-crafted jewellery, others sell fresh produce with an assortment of options. It seems the hand of the Black Plague has not reached as far as Sula.
The deeper we venture, music swells; a street band; a motley crew of musicians that perform a meshed composition, playing with shawms, vielles, and drums. The music charms many into a dance, even some professionals that pirouette through gaps, untouchable.
I look back at Vince and he smiles wistfully at the festive throng.
“You know,” he exclaims over the riotous amusement. “This reminds me of a time when Aljay snuck away to a city like this to be with his princess. I was with them, shadowing him for a distance. He was so enamoured, distracted, relishing in his forbidden romance to care about anything else. Little did he know that Aljay was not as devious as he thought. Royal guards had been following them.”
I glimpse Treyton and Brennon who meander off, browsing other stalls.
“And what happened?”
“I warned them.”
An impish look frolics on his face, his eyes gleaming with mischief.
The music escalates into an epic, fast-paced ballad.
“Aljay whipped around and spotted the lurking guards. Though the trained guards outnumbered us and unlike bandits, they would relent. The royal guard is composed of elite Avangard warriors, metas, so they were stronger and faster with a combined strength of ten beings and a sight of needle-like-focus.”
Vince scans around furtively, probably trying to find the ones that are watching us right now. “Despite knowing that. Without a second thought.” He snatches my hand. “He grabbed the princess’s hand, and they fled like they were fugitives on the run.”
I lurch forward, Vince pulls me into a ran. We streak through the masses, narrowly avoiding collisions, the wind rushes my hair, and a spike of adrenaline surges. I flick a look behind me and I spot Reinsbure and Bartholomew’s head bumbling in the river of people.
Vince and I zig-zag at random, racing through street after street until he draws me into a dark vennel. He grabs my waist and pushes me against the wall. Breathing heavily, he leans over to check if we lost them in the flurry of our dashing and elusive manoeuvring through the compressed populace, shirking them off, braving through the maze of streets.
Vince straightens, his breaths merging with my own. His chest rising and falling.
“At the end, they were caught,” he says in his narrating voice. “They handed the princess over to her own guard and the Avangards dragged the Dophan back home like a prisoner.” He bites down on his lower lip and his hand moves to comb through my hair. “But it was all about that moment, even it lasted only a several heartbeats.”
I rallied enough breaths to steady my voice. “So did you always supervise their escapades?”
He chuckles and plants his hand beside my head.
“No, I had my own affairs to keep me occupied.”
“Regnum affairs,” he clarifies.
I did not realise I was frowning until the tightness in my eyes eases.
“Alejendio was not only my closest companion, but he was still the Dophan. It was perilous for him to be on his own during the times he attempted to elude his guards. He was the sole heir. If he was vulnerable for even a second, it could mean his life.”
I notice that his face is nearing mine, closer and closer, even if it is by a fraction of an inch.
“I never had time for leisure, but for him, I would try to make it. I only asked of him to be patient and schedule his rendezvous according to my availability. I would merely watch over him until the guards inevitably captured them.”
Evidently, he thinks highly of his own skill, equating himself to a guard of Avangard soldiers.
The back of my head presses against the cold stone. “If I did not know any better, Herem Vince. I would deduce that you are going to kiss me.”
He chuckles, his breath flits over my lips. His other hand raises to tip up my chin. “Can a Valwa ever be wrong?”
“No.” My gaze lingers on his mouth, his lips curled in a devilish smirk. “But an Ethane can.”
He leans forward, and I dunk down, swooping beneath his arm, walking backwards.
“I thought you would be faster than that?”
His tongue runs across his lip, and his smirk cuts into a sharp smile. “Are you challenging me?”
I retreat as he begins to advance threateningly. “No, no—”
“So, if I am fast enough—,” he interjects, a wild look glints in his eyes as he prowls towards me, flaunting a predator’s smile, “—and I catch you. You will reward me with a kiss?”
I gape at him, round-mouthed. “I never said that—”
He dashes towards me. I spin around, gasping as I break into a desperate sprint, most of the dress blowing behind me. I glance behind me and he is hot on my heels like a hunter certain that his prey is already his.
Determination lends speed, tearing through the pathways, zipping past, causing dust to rise. I collide with a few unfortunate walkers that collapse to the ground as I yell apologies, frenetically trying to escape my own peril. A zealous Ethane. Many ahead see this spectacle on the move and instantly dodge out of the way.
I peek over my shoulder and terror runs me through as I see he’s no longer behind me. Frenzied, I stumble into a jog, my eyes darting to every moving thing. With my eyes cast behind me, I accelerate my speed and ram into a brute force as arms tangle around my waist, hoisting me up, my legs fly as I kick the air, flailing.
“You are mine now,” Vince whispers roughly.
My feet meet with the ground, and he allows to revolve so that I can face him.
I thrash in his arms, but his siege perseveres. “You enjoy the thrill of the hunt like an animal.” I squirm again.
His arms lock, and he yanks me to him. “You should know better than to run.”
“You chased me,” I say through clamped teeth.
My breaths rush ahead of me, too fast for me to catch. Vince’s gaze grips my attention, his eyes a-flush with triumph, my gaze trails down his angular cheekbones that carve down to his flinty jaw.
“I’m ready to collect my reward.”
My brows flare. “Was one rejection not enough?” I rein in a smile. “I think I made myself very clear.”
“Or I can just take it,” he says, ignorant of my refusal.
How moves swiftly and pecks my cheek, then the other and I flounder again as he overwhelms me with a quick series of kisses, innocently planting them where he can: my temple, jaw and nose, and my cheek again, spurring a peal of giggles from me.
“Enough, enough, enough!” I squeal.
He finally releases me and roars a laugh.
I scuttle back and jab my finger at him. “You will pay for that.”
He snorts another laugh. “For what? Comforting you with a shower of brotherly kisses. No.” He moves towards me with a beast-of-prey tread. “If I had my way with you.” His eyes burn with unfettered desire, a fervour of unruly longing. “You would be screaming for me to stop.”
My eyes fill my socket, bracing my resolve. No more running.
He chuckles and looks away. “Besides, I achieved my objective.”
I cross my arms. “Stealing kisses?”
He laughs again, his eyes sparkling with mirth. “No.” His smile thins into a grave line. “It was to see you smile again. Now come, let us tour the market and find something worthy of a Hera.”
He outstretches his burly arm to me.
“Did you bring cordenias with you?”
He frowns. “I do not carry shekels around like a shopkeeper, purses are for peasants.” He lengthens himself. “I am Herem Vince-Esputo Ethane, the successor to Regnum Ethane.” His serious expression fades into an indulgent smile. “If the title disappoints, you can always enthral them with your feminine wiles whilst I steal what we want.”
“Vince.”
He smirks roguishly. “I’m only having a laugh.” He flutters his hand urgently. “Now come. Or do you wish to deprive me of your company?”
I stroll forward and slap my hand in his; he reels me and spins me around. Finishing a twirl, he entwines our fingers, leading us forward, holding my hand like a treasure he had won.