- Warning! Depictions of PTSD and gaslighting! -

(Italics are parts of a flashback/dream.)

.·。.·゜·༺♥༻ ·゜·。.

Cal squinted his eyes as the light pierced through the windows, hitting him behind his lids. As he tried to make his way through the drowsiness, his mind gradually gathered the bits and pieces of memories from last night.

After that much euphoric lovemaking, one shouldn't be expected to return to their normal state so quickly.

'I only wished to spend a bit more time together before I go,' he recalled her saying. Poor darling, she must've been too embarrassed to tell him what she really meant in the showroom; afraid of being perceived unladylike. But who would judge her for seeking comfort in his arms when there was so much craziness going on around them? If only she could just tell him... Women had needs too, right?

He hoped he did right by her last night. It was her first time, after all.

His lips arched into a smile as he felt soft breathing against his skin. The apparent presence in his arms brought back all the excitements from last night.

"Darling..." he purred, earning a giggle from her as his arm slowly coiled around her figure. But why did she sound a little... different? He rose up, blinking his eyes open. "Olivia?"

"My Prince, you are awake."

A chilling sensation jolted through his body. It wasn't Olivia's bright, sky-coloured eyes that he saw. Not her brilliant smile that greeted him with joy. It was cold, dusty metal blue eyes that zapped his body with horror.

As soon as he came back to his senses, he flinched from her touch. "What the fuck are you doing here? Where is Olivia?"

"Olivia?" Isleen giggled like it was the most ridiculous thing she'd ever heard. "There is no Olivia, my lovely Prince. There is only me... and you, all night long. Do you not remember?"

"Bollocks. I was here with Olivia last night." He jumped off the bed, wrapping the sheets around himself. And only then did he finally notice that she was also naked, under the sheets, with him. "Where is she? What have you done to her?"

Isleen's face crinkled with vexation. "Such a dreadful thing to accuse a lady... Particularly after what you did with me last night! I gave you what's considered most valuable to a woman—"

"No, I made love to Olivia in this bed. Not you!"

"Your girlfriend was never here! Have you been imagining things?"

"But that's impossible, I was with her!" Cal barked, ignoring her accusations. "I saw her! I touched her!"

"You were drunk! I smelled liquor in your mouth the moment you followed me into this room. But I love you, that's why I gave myself to you!" She reached out for him, grabbing his arm. Cal yanked it away from her.

"You're mad," he shot her a boiling glare.

"You are making things up," Isleen clutched her face, tearing up.

Cal stood at the bedside, still clutching the sheets around himself. Cold sweat trickled down the side of his head as he gulped more air, trying to make sense between the two conflicting things from his memory, and what he saw before his very eyes.

"Then you..." he heaved, "...pretended to be her."

"How could I pretend to be her when we're nothing alike? She has blonde hair, does she not?" She picked up a cloak that was carelessly discarded on the floor. "These accusations you made are painful."

Cal's body shook with fear, recognizing it as the one 'Olivia' wore from last night. Did he really?

She sobbed. "It's not my fault that you could tell no difference between your fiancee and an impostor, because of how drunk you are!"

"No. No, I was not drunk. I did drink but I wasn't— I wasn't drunk!" He screamed out in frustration. "What did you do?!"

"What did I do? What are you gonna do?" Isleen's tears stopped. Her lips curved, turning into a smile. "Tell everyone?"

"You're such a freak! I knew there was something wrong with you!" he hissed between clenched teeth. "Either it was Olivia, or you tricked me. For your sake, I prefer the former."

Yes! That might be it, he told himself. Olivia could have left earlier and this freak thought she could fool with him.

"Yes, it was Olivia. It should be Olivia," he muttered to himself as he bumblingly picked up his clothes.

Isleen raised her chin, and even though she was much smaller than him it felt like she was towering over him. "My love, nobody's going to believe you."

***

Cal jerked up from his nightmare, skin covered in sweat. His entire body was rigid as his eyes travelled around the darkness, trying to look out for the only danger, the only person who'd ever posed a threat to his life.

He was ready to kill her if she ever dared to show up again if she could. He let her live once, and he would never repeat that mistake.

A soft movement under the covers made him wince and shrink away from the source, but his heart swelled as he set his eyes upon her.

Gigi was resting on a pillow beside him, still deep in sleep. Her shoulders rose and sank softly, in rhythm with her breathing. Even asleep, she looked peaceful, sated, and happy. A contrasting image of the state he was in right now.

Clenching his fists, Cal's eyes were brimming with tears as his nails dug into his own flesh. They just made love last night, but his silly mind decided it was the perfect time to bring up that memory! The very wretched images of those cursed moments. It was kind of expected, since the last time he thought he was making love to the love of his life, she turned out to be that demon. The very reason why he refused to stay with Gigi after consummating their marriage on their wedding night.

Feeling the need to vent all the frustration, he grabbed a pillow and screamed his agony out into it. How could he be so weak? He'd been trying relentlessly to move on from that wench, but it seemed that any effort he spent on improving was only dragging him further down the hellhole. For a good moment, he allowed himself to cry, allowing his tears to soak into the pillow as he clutched it tight.

Suddenly, Gigi shifted closer to him, like she was sensing his misery. Must he wake her up now, and tell her everything that was troubling him? Should they sleep in separate rooms again? She'd understand, wouldn't she?

'Can you promise to never leave my side?' he recalled her saying before they went to sleep, making his heart clench.

His poor wife. He left her out of their marriage once, he wouldn't do so again. This time he made her a promise and intended to keep it. More importantly, he wouldn't let his past tarnish the bliss of their lovemaking. Their first true one.

As he slowly settled back under the covers, Cal brought Gigi back into his arms, clutching her against his chest with trembling hands. She sighed happily into his neck, and he wept quietly into her hair. She needn't suffer more for having him as a husband. Let it be his burden to bear.

He would definitely tell her next time. Perhaps tomorrow, or someday; but not tonight.

***

Cal winced at the feel of some silken touch gently brushing against his face, while soft warm lips pressed against his chin. Before his mind could signal his body for protest, he heard a gentle ringing of laughter that filled his heart with comfort and relief.

It was Gigi's voice! Despite everything that happened, he made it through the night. There was no Isleen, he was safe... and Gigi was with him.

"Morning," he greeted, a smile gradually forming on his lips. It just felt so good to feel her presence in his arms. Warm and comforting.

"Morning," she sighed, curling up into his chest. The cheeky tone in her voice showed how oblivious she was to the horror tormenting him last night, and he decided it must stay so. "But... is it going to be a good one?"

"Stay here," He buried his nose in her hair, revelling in its flowery scent. If only he knew her existence would bring him such joy, desire and consolation. How silly he was to have avoided her before. Turning her over, he secured his arms around her waist to hold her in a spooning position. "I need you closer."

"Oh," she gasped as his morning wood accidentally probed against her bare bottom, reminding him that they were totally naked under the sheets. Caressing his arm, she pressed her backside further onto him. "A good morning, it seems."

His eyes opened and met her dark umber irises, he couldn't help feeling overwhelming love for her. It brought back all the thrills from last night—not those where he was crumbling over nightmares—but the ones where they joined, collided and glowed together in a delightful bliss.

"Sire, could we...?" she asked, pleaded, replaying the words she had so sincerely professed to him last night; 'I've always longed for you... I always will'.

The twinkle in her eyes made Cal feel stronger than ever, and a thousand times more courageous. Isleen wanted him trapped and silenced, destroying all the work he'd done for months as she dragged him back into the abyss of despair. But he would no longer live in fear of her. He would be brave for Gigi, who had been braver for him first.

"I am yours, my darling, remember?" he cooed tenderly into her ear, and she mewled as he uncovered the sheets from their bottoms, raising her right leg with an arm under her calf. Positioning himself on her opening, he squeezed her hand before entering.

Gigi gasped as he slid into her, her eyes never leaving his. She still felt tender from last night, so he could ease his way into her willing body.

"A really good morning," she groaned as he soon picked up pace, and he took pleasure in seeing her expression filled with rapture. "A really good fucking morning."

Although Cal wanted very much to throw a remark on how he'd never heard her curse before, he let it go; focusing on hitting her in the angles he knew would drive her wild as she rocked her ass back into his thrusts. He yanked the bedsheets off their bodies completely, admiring her beauty as she succumbed to desire.

"Sire!" she cried, and he knew she was at the cusp as she clutched onto his arm. She threw her head back, coming around him. "Oh, Cal!"

Hearing his name coming out of her mouth made him lose it. He collapsed onto her, sinking his teeth in her shoulder as he emptied himself inside her.

As they came back to themselves, she turned in his arms happy and fulfilled, cupping his face and kissing him lightly on the lips. He kissed her on the tip of her nose, secretly proud of himself.

"Did I wake you? I woke up some time ago, and when I saw you— I just couldn't help it," she added bashfully, "especially after last night. You are... unbelievable."

"Oh, Gi. You have no idea how happy I am to see you," He beamed, drawing her into an embrace.

"Is that so?" she giggled in his chest, sounding a bit surprised and delighted by the response. "Thank you for staying last night."

"You don't have to thank me for that," he rose to stare into her eyes, his core burning with fervent love for her. "There's nothing I wouldn't do for you, Gi."

If he loved her only with his heart he thought he would never be so taken. But he loved her with so much more than that. He loved her with everything somehow; with a special kind of soul.

"Well, I suppose you would be willing to take a bath with me then. I had asked my ladies to draw us one in the morning, it should be prepared by now." She climbed out of bed, throwing on her robes. "Come, Sire. We have less than an hour if we want to have breakfast on time, and I promised Junior that I'd help him redecorate his room."

As he stepped into the bathroom, Cal was surprised to find that the entire bathtub was completely covered in colourful floating flower petals. Gigi explained that flower baths were the hallmark of Dewata Island, his life-long dream destination, which gave her the idea to emulate it. They even had soothing music playing and served a couple of fresh ginger lemon tea.

Once they were settled in the bath, Cal finally asked a question that had been on his mind for some time.

"Why do you like to call me 'Sire'?" Cal asked as he gently washed her hair, gently massaging her scalp while she comfortably seated on his lap with her back facing him. She had yet to state her reason last night, and it left him curious because he knew a ton of women would die for a chance to call him by his first name.

"Most Prajan women address their husbands with honorific titles. Mostly, 'Mas', which we also use to refer to an older brother or grown-up men in general. I know, it's uncommon here."

"So it's a cultural thing. Why don't you call me Mas, then?"

"No!" she declined quickly, looking at him past her shoulder. "I wouldn't call you something I'd use to address my brothers or a common man. It wouldn't be right. But then again, I also can't call you Baginda, which is the Prajan equivalent of Sire because it's a mouthful and weird."

"Sounds like linguistic problems. What about endearing Anglese terms, like 'babe' or 'honey'?"

"Those words don't even come close to having the same level of respect as 'Sire'."

Gigi removed herself from his lap to look at him directly. "You're the only person I have ever called 'Sire', so it's special to me. I like to call you 'Sire' because I love you, adore you and respect you as a husband and an Emperor; above all men. You don't get to question it."

For a moment he just sat there, stunned and overcome by her answer. Then something clicked in his mind before he drew her back into his lap, the water lapping gently around them as he started to grind against her.

"Alright then, have it your way," he whispered as Gigi let out a small whimper, becoming aware of his growing arousal. "Call me Sire."

"Sire..." Gigi's cheeks flushed with heat as she soon straddled him, wrapping her legs tightly around his waist. "Sire..."

Cal held her hips down as he started rocking upwards, and she threw her head back as their sexes rubbed against one another.

"Sire..."

***

As they later came down to the dining room hand-in-hand, huge smiles planted across their faces, they weren't expecting a reprimand.

"You're late!" Junior growled, face flushed with anger as they found him seated alone in the table with his breakfast untouched.

.·。.·゜·༺♥༻ ·゜·。.

I hope that satisfies your curiosity about why Gigi kept calling him 'Sire' 😏

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