Playing with Fire

VIII - Fireworks in the Night Sky

ventured into the palace garden. My steps faltered as I walked, my legs protesting from the strain of the evening's festivities. Dancing was never something I anticipated, and the pain in my legs had momentarily slipped my mind in the whirlwind of the night. As I entered the garden's sanctuary from its rear entrance, I stumbled, my gait unsteady. Collapsing onto a stone bench at the edge of a massive and ornate fountain, I sought solace in the quietude that the garden offered.

The fountain was a masterpiece, its waters dancing in harmonious rhythm with the melodies emanating from the grand ballroom. I had rarely taken the time to truly notice it during my sojourns in the palace. My usual haunts were the tables and chairs near the entrance, always occupied by a myriad of concerns that left me little room for wandering. The moon's luminescent glow shimmered on the water's rippled surface, casting enchanting patterns across the basin.

As I surveyed the tranquil scene to ensure my solitude, I gingerly hiked up my skirt, revealing a wound that had once again begun to bleed. The pain was a stark reminder of the evening's misadventures. With a sigh, I slipped off my heels and stood, the coolness of the fountain's water soothing against my injured skin. Cautiously washing the wound, I hoped to staunch the flow of blood. Resuming my seat, I contemplated my next move. I needed something to bind the wound and stop its persistent bleeding. Fingers poised to tear a strip from my dress, a voice sliced through the quietude.

"What happened to you?" Startled, I jerked my head up to find a figure emerging from the shadows. Edmund, the enigmatic man from earlier, stood before me. The breath caught in my throat, and the image of my injury was temporarily forgotten as embarrassment flushed my cheeks. Hastily lowering my skirt, I fumbled to regain my composure.

Had he followed me here?

Blazing emerald eyes bore into mine, waiting for my explanation. I slipped my heels back on, steadying myself as I stood. "I tripped, that is all," I replied, my voice tinged with an awkward defensiveness.

"I will be leaving then. Good evening and happy birthday, Your Highness," I attempted, my path obstructed as he suddenly clasped my arm. Annoyance prickled within me at his persistent interruptions. His grip compelled me to face him, my heart pounding uncomfortably.

In a surprising twist, his hands lifted my skirt, exposing the wound I had tended to moments before. Panic surged, and I fought to pull my skirt back into place. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!?" I cried out, a mixture of shock and indignation coloring my voice.

The gaze he leveled at me was unwavering and intense. "Who did this?" he asked, his voice a calm undercurrent in the night. I averted my eyes, unable to withstand his piercing scrutiny.

"No, I shouldn't ask. I already know," he snarled, his anger palpable. With that final declaration, he abruptly turned and stormed away, leaving me to my own bewilderment. I watched him go, a tumultuous storm of emotions brewing within me. His reaction was unexpected, and his fury was a stark revelation of some hidden truth. I could sense a depth to him—a reservoir of untamed passions held barely in check. Yet, as he vanished into the darkness, I realized that I didn't want to stop him. Whatever path he chose and whatever actions he undertook, I welcomed them. His siblings, the very ones who tormented me, deserved retribution. I would not impede him, even as the secrets that lurked within this palace continued to unfurl their enigmatic tendrils.

The night held a chill that seeped into my bones, causing me to return to the fountain's edge once more. With legs now nearly numb from previous exertions, I sank onto the stone bench and released a heavy sigh. Yet, it was in that moment of quiet reflection that an unexpected disruption shattered the serenity around me. A distinct crunching noise reached my ears, causing me to shift my gaze to the source of the sound. A man, dressed in attire that spoke of wealth and extravagance, was making his way toward me. The crunch of gravel underfoot seemed at odds with the polished elegance of his clothing.

My eyes narrowed as he approached, confusion mixing with my fatigue. He lowered himself to a kneeling position beside me, his actions so unexpected that they left me momentarily speechless. But my astonishment soon transformed into a mixture of shock and anger when he reached for the edge of my skirt, raising it with a brazen disregard for my privacy and dignity.

My voice, usually calm and composed, erupted in a sharp and disbelieving shout. "Hey!" I exclaimed, my words echoing through the courtyard. My heart raced in my chest, a mixture of anger and fear churning within me. This man, a complete stranger, was behaving in a manner that was not only impolite but utterly inappropriate. The norms of the society I had found myself in only intensified the severity of his actions.

In the world of this novel, such behavior was not just frowned upon—it was strictly forbidden. A lady's virtue and modesty were held in the highest regard, and any transgression against them was met with societal outrage. I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks as a wave of humiliation swept over me. This was nothing short of harassment.

However, my protests fell on deaf ears. He seemed entirely unperturbed by my outburst, as if my presence and feelings were inconsequential to him. My flinch as he tore off a piece of his own expensive attire went unnoticed, and my heart raced as I wondered what he intended to do with it.

With swift and precise movements, he wound the fabric around a wound on my leg that I hadn't even realized was bleeding. I watched him work in a daze, the pain in my leg mixing with the whirlwind of emotions that surged within me. I opened my mouth to speak again, to demand an explanation for his audacity, but the words caught in my throat.

"Did you hear?" I managed to choke out, my voice a mixture of frustration and defeat. He didn't answer my question; his focus was solely on the task at hand. I could do nothing but watch as he skillfully bound the cloth around my leg, staunching the bleeding.

As he finished tying the makeshift bandage, his dark blue eyes met mine. They were like pools of deep blue, shimmering with an intensity that caught me off guard. It was as if I had been drawn into the depths of an endless ocean, the waves of his gaze stirring something within me.

"No, and I don't care what your relationship with the crown prince is. I won't ask," he said, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. With that, he rose to his feet, leaving me to process the whirlwind of emotions that his presence had stirred.

Before I could fully comprehend what had just transpired, he announced his departure, his words laden with an unexpected insight. "Then I will leave," he declared, his tone suggesting that he recognized my need for solitude.

"It seems that you wanted to be alone and were disturbed by an unwanted person." His intention to depart was clear, his steps carrying him away from me. But a sudden impulse, a desire to understand this enigmatic stranger who had defied societal norms to assist me, drove me to act.

Without thinking, I reached out and grasped his hand, the touch a mix of urgency and uncertainty. I was startled, my heart racing as I immediately withdrew my hand. The intention had been to grab hold of his coat, an act of desperation to stop him from leaving, but fate had other plans. His hand had moved, and in my flustered state, that's what I accidentally held onto—his warm and slightly calloused hand.

“Do you not want me to leave?” His voice, a blend of curiosity and concern, pulled me from my momentary shock. I couldn't meet his gaze; my eyes avoided his intense stare. I managed a shaky nod, a mix of uncertainty and longing swirling within me. I didn't fully understand it myself; all I knew was that today, just for today, I needed someone by my side.

He surprised me by breaking into a smile, his features softening as he settled beside me. The minutes stretched into silence, only punctuated by the distant sounds of water splashing from the ornate fountain and the distant melodies of music drifting from the nearby ballroom.

“You know what? Let’s go to the night market,” he suddenly suggested, his eyes lighting up with excitement. But then a shadow crossed his face as realization hit him.

My legs.

I saw his gaze flick downward, and at that moment, he understood. "I suddenly forgot about that." His voice wavered slightly, his gaze lifting to meet the vast expanse of the evening sky.

And then, as if the universe had timed it perfectly, the night sky came alive with bursts of color and light. The fireworks display in honor of the crown prince's birthday had commenced. Brilliant explosions painted the darkness with fragments of brilliance that shot toward the heavens. They adorned the sky with an ephemeral beauty, reflecting in the water of the fountain and lending it an enchanting aura.

Involuntarily, a smile spread across my face, a genuine expression of wonder and happiness. Amidst this magical spectacle, his voice drew me back, his words catching me off guard. "You know what?" The sound of his voice prompted me to meet his gaze. And there it was—his gaze, a captivating combination of earnestness and curiosity.

"You should come with me," he stated, his eyes fixed on mine.

A brief silence held us captive for a mere heartbeat of time. And then the tension broke as I burst into laughter. The absurdity of the situation, the unexpectedness of his proposition—it all seemed surreal. "You don’t even know me," I managed to reply, my eyes drifting away, though I couldn't hide the grin that played on my lips.

He chuckled, a melodic sound that painted the silence with warmth. "You are right about that," he conceded, his voice gentle yet weighted with something unsaid.

“Well, expect news within this month," he suddenly said, a note of urgency lacing his words. And with that enigmatic statement, he stood and left. His steps were hurried, leaving me perplexed and wondering.

Expect news for what?

I mulled over his words, confusion swirling within me. Despite the intrigue, I knew better than to set my hopes on a person I had never truly met. But deep down, beneath the layers of doubt, there lingered a sense of anticipation, a flicker of something new and unexpected that had been ignited amidst the darkness of that evening. As the echoes of his departure faded, I was left alone with the fading fireworks and the mesmerizing dance of light in the water. With a sigh, I leaned back, letting my thoughts drift like the sparks that had graced the sky, waiting to see what the coming days would bring.

~

The day had been eventful, but now a sense of weariness had settled upon me. As I neared the chambers, a peculiar scene unfolded before me—a gathering of maids, among them Penelope, lined up outside the grand entrance. Their faces held an air of anxious anticipation, but it was Penelope who broke away from the group as soon as she caught sight of my approach. A mixture of relief and concern was etched across her features. Her voice trembled as she addressed me, her words laced with a strange unease.

"Why didn’t you tell me, your highness?" Penelope's voice wavered as she drew closer, the other maids following suit, their eyes wide with an almost palpable tension.

"Let us help you get inside, Your Highness," she offered, her hand outstretched, only to be abruptly pushed aside by an unexpected presence—Samuel. My brows knitted in surprise and confusion at his sudden appearance. The air seemed to shift as his commanding presence overshadowed the maids. I couldn't help but demand an explanation for his unannounced involvement.

"Why are you here, Samuel?" My voice carried a mixture of astonishment and reproach. His presence had caught me off guard, unraveling the carefully constructed routine of the palace. Yet Samuel remained enigmatic, his silence heavy in the air. Before I could grasp the situation, he had swept me off my feet, lifting me effortlessly into his arms. The shock of the situation compelled my voice to rise, a mix of disbelief and frustration echoing through the courtyard.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING, SAMUEL!?" My outcry was met with an awkward hush that seemed to drape over the gathering, with the maids and even Penelope avoiding my gaze. Samuel's intent remained inscrutable as he continued to carry me towards my chambers with determined steps.

Settled upon my bed, I expected Samuel to break his silence, perhaps with a jest or a teasing remark. However, he maintained an unusual seriousness; his gaze locked upon me without a trace of his usual playfulness. His actions, his presence—it was all confounding. My astonishment reached new heights when, for the third time, he lifted my skirt, revealing the cloth bound around my injured leg. My patience gave way to frustration, and my voice sharpened with anger.

"Samuel!" The single word was a forceful reprimand, drawing his attention momentarily. But when his gaze met mine, the anger I had anticipated was replaced by a chilling rage that sent a shiver down my spine. Silence still clung to him like a shroud, unbroken, until he finally addressed the maids, including Penelope, his words carrying a weight that reverberated through the room.

"Clean the wounds and attend to her properly this time. You don’t want the king and the crown prince of this country to be disappointed, am I right?" Samuel's words held a command that sent an unspoken message, his gaze a silent warning to the maids.

With an abruptness that matched his earlier arrival, Samuel announced his departure without another word, his gaze avoiding mine. The air seemed to shift once more as he left, leaving behind a maelstrom of unanswered questions. As the door closed behind him, the room began to stir with a sense of unease and tension. Penelope approached, her concern evident in her eyes as she knelt before me. A sense of camaraderie had given way to something far more unsettling—a display of servitude that stirred memories I had hoped to keep buried.

"What is the meaning of this?" I questioned, my annoyance evident in my voice as I surveyed the maids, who had all taken a submissive posture before me.

"Rely on us, Your Highness. We do not want you to carry all the burden by yourself. We are here for you to take care of your health." Penelope's words were gentle, but they resonated with an undertone that struck a chord of irritation within me.

Memories of a past life flooded back—a time when I had been vulnerable and taken advantage of by those who claimed to be well-wishers. The wounds of betrayal and manipulation were still fresh in my memory, and I refused to be ensnared in such a web of dependence again.

With a resolute voice, I brushed aside their well-intentioned offer. "Don’t bother yourselves," I stated firmly, rising from the bed and shedding the trappings of my royal attire. Jewelry, shoes, and a gown—all discarded in a display of defiance against the vulnerability their actions seemed to suggest.

"I will never rely on people or trust anyone in this place." My voice rang with a steely determination as I climbed back onto the bed, wrapping myself in the covers. My gaze met theirs, and I saw a mix of emotions—worry, surprise, and something else, something I couldn't quite place.

"Remember that always, and never make me repeat myself." The finality of my words hung in the air, a declaration of independence that I hoped would shield me from the shadows of manipulation that haunted my past.

After the maids filed out, I lay there, staring at the ceiling, my emotions swirling within me like a tempestuous storm. The day's events had taken an unexpected turn, unraveling layers of vulnerability I had tried to conceal. As darkness settled over the palace, I was left to grapple with the unsettling mixture of fury, independence, and an underlying yearning for connection that refused to be silenced.