I wasn't scared.

I was willing it out of myself to feel anything. Fearful, nervous. But my heart wasn't ready to beat as ferociously as it should.

Strangely, everything felt tranquil.

I closed the door to my room and rested the back of my head against it, looking at the desolate hallway to his room, bathed in the golden light of fire torches.

This feeling was growing heavier. If only I really was a court writer. But born in this century…

I trudged ahead, moving my palm on the cool marble of the hallway's slab. The sky above was strewn together with stars, so many that they looked like stardust sprinkled in the night sky.

Soft winds skimmed past me when I stood in front of his room. No guards were stationed because everyone was rejoicing in the celebration.

When I couldn't hear anyone, I curled in my fingers to knock once, my heart calm like never before.

Two and three knocks, but nothing happened. Upon calling out several times, but to no avail, I gripped the thick iron rings and pushed open the doors.

His room was a flood of darkness and moonlight blending in.

Long translucent curtains of the large window blew inward, warm-cool winds keeping their motion alive.

Holding the sides of my heavy skirt, I stepped in, overwhelmed by the lack of burning fire torches, darkness on either side of me.

"My Lord…" I called out, a nervous inkling to my voice, not for him, but the unfriendly darkness, "I can be… easily spooked so, please don't jump out of the corner if…" I stifled a laugh. I sounded lame. That's not how one talked to a king, "Can you hear me, my Lord?" I repeated.

Nothing could be heard. I moved forward, finding solace in the silvery gust of light in the darkness. Then there was the door to the bath which upon contemplating, I knocked.

"My Lord…" my voice died down in a gulp. No. I wasn't imagining him taking a bath.

"My Lord, please answer me if you are here…" I didn't know what was making me this confident, when in fact, I was here for…

I was here for…?

I exhaled, a smile threatening to come on my lips. It was a mild feeling of awaited anticipation.

For the first time, I wasn't dreading his arrival.

I ambled to the window, curtains brushing past my cheeks like his lips.

His kingdom ahead was breathtaking. Houses looked like fireflies gleaming in the night, still and serene. The gazillion stars in the obsidian sky, looking down at them.

Such a peaceful place without honking vehicles, or mad party songs thronging the night, as it did in my world.

When I spotted the contours of his circular balcony, I retreated from the window to open the balcony gates, taking in a deep breath of the moon cool winds.

There were potted plants on either side, this place being less gloomy than the room. I had always wanted to come here, but too hesitant to ask him. My bare feet took in the warm sandstone floor as I stretched my arms sideways on the handrail to look up. A thing I'd caught him doing often when I would come for the recitations.

It was a full moon today, so round and bright. Brighter than what it looked from the skies of my century.

Another wave of wind blew past; the spring winds. Warm and sweet. Filled with the fresh smell of mud, leaves, coolness and something heavenly.

Something woodsy, earthy, manly. Hard to miss.

And then I fell into a deeper sense of calm when his large hands enveloped mine on the handrail, night robe covered chest, strong and protecting, grazing my back.

I felt his chin settle on my head, hands twining with mine, "Me sklavonis, Mila…" he breathed out.

Closing my eyes, I surrendered myself to his deep accent that weaved his voice in an unforgettable melody. You're enslaving me, darling, he was saying.

A voice I'll weep to hear again in my century.

Weep was such a weak word to describe it…

I pushed back a little, wanting him to enclose me in his arms, "You weren't in your room?" I asked softly.

His stubbled face came to rest on my bare shoulder, as I felt him breathing in and out, slowly, relishing in every moment. Just like me.

"There," he whispered, light brown eyes pointing to the rooftop which looked down at his balcony.

"The way you stood fearlessly, hairs flowing in the warm night breeze," he whispered, "looking so damn-" he sighed, a chuckle resonating in my ears as he chose to pour out the right words, "it was enough to leave me breathless," he confessed.

When his gaze left the rooftop, so did his hands from mine but now, they came to rest on the side of my bare waist, fingers splayed on my skin, thumb brushing, "No woman had ever left me breathless just by the sight of her," he looked up into the sky with me, another hand making its place by my free side, securing me finally. I leaned my head against his chest, knowing the true definition of peace.

I didn't know what to say of it, my cheeks warming up, "How… does the Moon change its shape?" I asked instead, curious to know what he knew of it.

"This is a nineteen-year cycle," he murmured, "after which the phases are repeated on the same days of the year, or approximately so."

I laughed softly, knowing well he wasn't aware that the Moon revolved around the Earth. If only I could tell him…

"Mila," he smiled against my cheek, "haven't we…" his voice dropped an octave lower, "…slipped past the main reason we're here for?" he brushed his lips by the side of my jaw, and my eyes closed off at the contact.

Everything felt immense with closed eyes. Now I knew why the eyes closed the moment one shared a kiss.

When my conscience arrived, he wasn't there.

I looked around, felt up my arms, my face, and turned around. No one. Was I imagining it?

"My Lord," I said once, eyes searching for him. Craving for him, "Where are you… My Lord?" I stepped back in. This time his room in clear view for the Moon had shifted, brightening up his room with its glimmering streaks.

My movements were slow, deliberately wanting the predator to attack me. That was the level of insane I'd become, but I didn't care. I stopped to look at his bed, my back facing the window.

Pillows were propped neatly by the headboard and I thought back to the words I'd heard at the banquet…

"Aw, I know it's me! Tonight I'll be spending the night with Julian," The red-haired noblewoman was laughing as she'd take sips of wine from her goblet.

"Not you, it's me," Another Princess from a faraway kingdom had smirked, "Don't forget, it was me who he had…" Her revelation hid in a wave of secretive giggle, "Let's just say… he will be mine tonight."

They knew so much about him and me… I knew nothing. Perhaps I never will.

"This way, Cors," My breath hitched when I heard the mesmerising baritone, my head turning back on its own.

He stood leaning back against the wall. Arms crossed, a faint knowing smile on his face. An expanse of his broad chest was visible through the night robe as he tilted his head, eyes taking me in.

Every ounce of my skin was heating up, colouring in the crimson shade of blood. He called me Cors.

The translucent cream coloured curtains were wafting across his face as he raised his hand, index finger silently calling me to him.

The mere action felt as if he was tugging at my heart, spellbinding me to move.

When I was close enough, he encircled a hand around my wrist and changed our position, my back against the wall now.

Hooded eyes looked down at me, stunned and lost. The same look he had when he saw me for the first time.

"Are you drunk…?" I asked, knowing well he never liquored up, but the look on his face told otherwise.

"Yes," a smile curved up his lips, "drunk on you."

My mind spun and spun with the web of words he was entangling me in, sweet and hypnotic.

He traced his necklace on my neck, "You know how to… read, write… cook," his thumb brushed up the hollow of my neck, "fight," he grinned, "and now… dance, play the lyre and sing.

"Who are you, Althea?" His eyes, though sharp and clever, were thrilled, "Or… are you even Althea Rosemary at all?"

My heart was beating like a doe's, who was escaping a lion's wrath, "What do you… think?" I whispered back. I needed to know what he thought of me, if not a spy. In the chaos of doing everything correctly, I hadn't known I'd displayed so many qualities that the average human of this time doesn't.

"Some otherworldly being. Someone who doesn't belong to this world," he stated, unfazed.

He couldn't be more true.

"So… does this assumption make me a threat or… a benefit for you?" I asked cautiously, pleased to see him getting perplexed by his own theory.

But he didn't linger on it as his serious mood vanished, replaced by the same gaze he'd passed in the celebration hall, sensual and crazy.

I shivered when he held me by my shoulders, hard hands sinking into my flesh, pressing me against the wall.

"Anything else you want to say?" he chuckled, "to distract me from my original purpose…"

"No," I replied.

That took him aback, his face twisting in surprise before it melted back to its fascinated look.

His fingers glided down my back, to slide over the jewelled chain I'd worn around my waist, tickling my skin, "You aren't afraid of the consequences, are you?"

I looked into his eyes, heart beating in my throat that my replies were scaring me, "No."

"Which means, I don't scare you anymore?"

"No…"

A triumphant smile came over his face, devoid of any undertone, "You know what?" He started slowly, tucking a stray strand behind my ear, hand moving into my hair, "I've been wanting to hear that from you," he whispered. And when a smile came on my lips too, he closed the distance. Slowly.

He was never in a rush, neither forceful nor rough. So gentle, slow and hypnotic his kiss was, meaning every second of it, that made me drown with him in an endless sea of bliss that I didn't want to think about anything else.

One of his arms curled around my back, the other holding the back of my neck, lips moving, angling my face as he pleased because honestly…

I didn't know how to kiss.

It was sinking in deeper now because he was the only one doing the thing. Keeping it going.

I didn't know how to fudging kiss.

After a moment of giving in to him, we stopped, breathing hoarsely against each other's forehead. Unknowingly, I had clutched onto his night robe, causing his chest to be more visible than it already was. Flushed, I removed my hand.

But it didn't take him a second before he caught my hand back, a satisfied smile on his face.

"I- I'm sorry," I fumbled, having known I'd probably made a fool out of myself, "I don't know how to… do it properly…" I heaved a breath, reddening instantly.

Was that even a thing to say out loud?

He placed my hand on the wall beside my head, drowsy eyes levelling mine, "Am I complaining?"

My gaze fell on his parted lips as he moved his tongue playfully over his teeth. Like a predator waiting to devour his prey. "My Lord…" I trailed, forgetting what I wanted to say when he placed a finger over my lips.

"Shh, not that, from today."

I was burning in the curious waves he was engulfing me in.

"What is my name?" he husked.

The Moon shone through his eyes, giving a silvered hue to the light brown shade. His lips pressed in a thin but quirky line.

"My Lor-" I started, but he cut me off.

"My name."

His intimidation was making me dishevelled, "J- Julian…" I stammered. It had been years since I'd said his name, right in front of him.

"Again," Another hand came on the wall, caging me in.

"Julian…" I was a breathing mess by now.

"Again."

"Julian-"

And then he pressed his lips on mine. Again.

But this time, it was deeper, more serious, intense, as if he couldn't go on without it. His strong arms pulled me flush against me, another hand cupping the back of my head to keep me in place. The wreath of ivy slipping down from my head.

He was skilled. So skilled that I didn't know when he took me to his bed until I felt the headboard against my back.

My hands were shakily trying to grasp onto him when did something at the base of my tongue, making me suppress an embarrassing cry. A spot I'd never known would be this sensitive to a deep kiss.

We pulled apart when we couldn't breathe any longer. His fingers buried in my hairs, forehead slumped against mine.

"You look so beautiful today…" he whispered, breathing in short gasps, just like me. My hands clutched his shoulders, trying to relieve myself.

"Y- You too," I whispered back.

"Do I?" His voice was filled with amusement as his sensuous mouth twisted into a grin, "So… should we come to your deeds now?"

The dark hairs were falling over his forehead, eyes slyly looking at me. I struggled to breathe at his rugged appearance. He looked way too sensual in his night robe than in any other dress.

"What did I do to you," he started, "when you came into my palace?"

I blinked back, trying to focus on what he asked, "You… threatened me," I gulped, "by showing that body… of your previous writer…"

He nodded, "And after that?"

I thought harder at what he'd done, "you… made me sign the… treaty."

"Before that," he prompted.

My gaze shifted behind him, thinking back to the events that happened in the secret chamber, "you were… angry," I mumbled, "and told me… not to write about t- that writer…" hesitantly, I looked at him to see him shaking his head.

I sucked in a breath when he placed his palm beside me, leaning in, pressing two of his fingers at the nape of my neck, "Here," he whispered, "What did I do here?"

Brief flashes came from the time when he'd bitten me in the lake, and again in the chamber.

The pain, a reminder that he was watching my every move.

"You b- bit me," I exclaimed.

Pleased, he removed his fingers, "And why did I do that?" He asked again. I just sat still.

"Have you noticed the necks of most women around you," he rubbed his jaw, looking briefly at the glowing darkness out the window before his eyes were back on mine. I shook my head slowly.

"Most of them have a mark, a symbol that she's taken by a man," he defined, "so other men stay away from her."

My eyes widened at the familiar thing I'd read about.

They did that. Ancient men did this marking thing on their women, so other males didn't look at her with a gaze of want.

A trait that my generation had happily donated to vampires and werewolves.

A cunning smile came on his face as he observed the puzzles fixing in my head.

"Are you aware…" he mused, "the number of eyes that were on you, when you came here for the first time?" he tilted up my chin, "hooked on you, your movements," his face grew emotionless as he stared into the depths of my eyes.

"While you were blissfully unaware of them, lost in the grandeur of this palace."

My mouth was agape at the revelation.

"I had to do it," he retreated his hand, "And I'd thought I'll always have to do it," his stern gaze drifted away into a sigh.

"But it panicked you so much the first time I did it, that I didn't feel like doing it again," he confided.

Silence blanketed us, with his stare weighing me down. I never knew I was so careless about people's gazes.

"And coming to the celebration hall," he accursed, "do you know the number of people who were fantasising about you?"

My heart plummeted, "B- But there were more gorgeous women… than me…" I lowered my gaze, flustered when he shook his head in denial.

"What about the lyre and song?"

"You didn't tell me to stop…"

He snickered, flexing at his elbows, "Sometimes, it's amusing to see your courage, confidence…" his voice darkened, "your fearlessness for me," he smirked.

"Align your neck."

I stopped breathing momentarily at his order. He didn't move an inch from his position, silently waiting.

Align your neck.

I clutched at my skirt, palms sweaty, an unusual fear of excitement rushing through me. Insane insane. The voice inside me chanted, You've gone insane, Althea.

"Mila," he tsked, "I can very well move your neck if you don't."

He wasn't in a mood to joke now, his voice dead serious. Without another word, I turned my head aside, exposing my neck to him. I didn't know why I wasn't even putting a lame banter at his instincts.

But truth was, I'd never felt so compelled to follow someone's order. Ever.

"A little dove was allowed to fly around… in the palace," he sang, moving closer till I could feel his breath painting my breathless frame.

His hand clasped one of my shoulders to keep me from moving, "But the king didn't like when people began to notice her," he whispered into my ear, "see her fly with those pearly white wings," his fingers drummed at my bare back, hot breath swiping over the length of my neck.

I was shuddering all over.

"And when the dove started to sing," I gasped as his arm tightened around me, my chest pressed against his, "the king decided it was time…

"To enclasp her neck," he wrapped a hand around my neck, "in a little mark of warning to those onlookers," he chuckled and the next moment, simmering pain flared from the side of my neck.

I cried out at the repeated aggression of his teeth against the skin of my neck until I was gripping onto him for dear life. The first time didn't come close enough to what he was doing now.

And then his tongue, his lips, soothed away the fresh pain, feeling like ice rubbing over a burn. His touch, hot and cold at the same time.

Both his hands were clasped on my neck as he continued to caress the pain. Pulling me further away from the headboard.

"Julian…" I was lost in the feeling that I didn't know what he was doing until I felt the cushion below my head.

Planting in one last kiss at my neck, he came to hover over me, hands on either side of my laid self, "And you know why he marked her?" he grinned.

"He could've locked her in a cage, but no… he still wanted to see her fly." I looked on dazed as he bent once again to capture my lips.

Slow and moving. Pulling in and giving in. Compelling me to make all those horrid embarrassing noises I tried the hardest to resist.

And it was just a kiss. Neither his hands nor any other touch. Just his lips.

If his kiss was like this, I didn't know what he was like.

He bit on gently on my already sensitive lips, before withdrawing, watching me catch my breath as if I'd just ran a mile.

"So delicate…" I heard him whispering to himself.

My eyes fluttered open, breath shallow as I looked at him. He looked amused and in deep thought at the same time.

"You should be wary of… delicate women, my Lord," I heaved when a thought occurred to me. He seemed to be possessed, lost in what he was looking at. Almost as if he was falling…

Don't fall for me, Julian. Just… don't.

"And why is that?" he chuckled.