Watching You Marry Someone Else

You are the most beautiful woman this high court, and all seven others, has ever seen.

And I know that’s not the first time you’ve heard that. Especially tonight.

Not with all these heathens surrounding you.

With their gifts.

Their sacred literature.

Their golden woven baskets.

But it would be the first time you’ve ever heard it from me.

It’s been twenty-nine days since your engagement to the royal moronic Prince Godric.

Prince of the Woodlands Court.

Loved by many. And by loved, I mean used in every sense of the word.

His whore persona isn’t a secret. Least of all to you.

But you still think he can be different for you.

You think somehow you’ll both fall in love, even after these past weeks have proven that man is incapable of loving anyone other than himself.

And the most significant thing these twenty-nine days have taught me is that I want you.

I need you.

A long defeated breath leaves me.

The truth has been running through me and God must be testing my patience because I don’t think I can live without you.

A group of maids rush past me, their feet pounding against the dirt aisle as they carry your garden crown.

A symbol of fertility. Of devotion. Of your future with that idiot.

Your face falls, just for a second. Just long enough for me to notice.

Then you snap back.

Composed. Perfect.

Right in time for him to kiss your cheek again.

My eyes don’t stop. They can’t.

From the curve of your neck, to your collarbone, to the white satin gown barely clinging to you. Held up by nothing but thin straps tied at your arms.

I kissed you there.

Right where your chest rises against that fabric.

Impulsively. Recklessly.

If your maid hadn’t knocked, I don’t know what would’ve happened in the dark.

Since then, I can’t stop thinking about you. Watching you.

The same woman I’ve known forever. The same one I was never supposed to want.

My friend. Daughter of the High Court. Beloved by everyone.

It used to be easy to ignore this. Easy to bury it when I barely had time alone with you.

But then my father assigned me as your crown’s shield, and suddenly I was everywhere you were.

That night, I only meant to comfort you. To make sure you knew you could talk to me.

If you were nervous. If you were scared.

This marriage means everything. Alliance. Power. Stability. Your father’s reign. Our future.

But I wasn’t expecting you to climb into my lap. Arms wrapped around me.

Your eyes, wide and pleading, looking into mine like you were asking me for something you couldn’t say out loud.

And then you kissed me.

Soft. Gentle.

At first, you didn’t feel real. Like I was dreaming.

But then your hands grabbed my jaw and pulled me closer, moving against me like I was everything you ever needed.

And I knew.

This wasn’t a dream.

You can pretend this is a mistake.

If anyone finds out, it’s over. The contract is gone. Your name is ruined. My career is finished. Our families will hate us.

But there has to be another way.

You can cling to him all you want. Wrap your arm around his. Smile. Pretend.

It doesn’t fool me.

I see everything.

The way you avoid looking at me. The way your throat tightens. The way your balance slips just slightly, but enough.

We haven’t been alone since that night. We shouldn’t be.

But you are temptation.

And now that I know you want me too, resisting you isn’t an option anymore.

So my love, we’ve reached the part of the evening where my plan begins.

Midnight is seconds away. The moment you exchange gifts with your future husband.

You smile at him. Careful. Perfect. Fake.

And I want to tear him away from you. Throw him over the railing and let the wolves have what’s left.

But I wait.

Because I know what’s coming.

And then, like an answered prayer, the lights go out.

Screams. Movement. Chaos.

I don’t hesitate.

My kind can see in the dark. To me, nothing has changed.

Five strides and I’m in front of you.

Your future husband is screaming, calling for his father like a child.

When I grab your arm, you don’t flinch.

You never do.

“Princess,” I whisper against your ear, “you need to come with me.”

You push against me, trying to resist.

I catch your wrist and hold you there.

“Come. Now. I swore to protect you.”

You hate it, but you know I’m right.

If the lights come back on and you’re still here, questions will be asked.

Then the bell rings. Loud. Final.

That’s all it takes.

You stop fighting and fall into me.

One arm under your knees, one at your back, and I carry you out.

You struggle. Of course you do.

Like you’re not grateful to be out of there.

I almost laugh, because I know better.

Nothing is stopping me now.

We run through dark halls, through silence, through freedom.

Until I find it. A door. A closet.

I kick it open and pull you inside.

“Now that we’re alone,” I say, “you’re not marrying him.”

Your lips part, ready to argue.

My thumb brushes your mouth, stopping you.

“I don’t have a plan beyond this.”

My body presses into yours, pinning you to the wall.

I expect resistance.

I don’t get it.

Your hands move into my hair, pulling, holding.

You melt into me so easily.

Like you were made for this.

For me.

“You could never feel this with him,” I whisper. “He could never touch you like this.”

You know it.