Subjected Power ( Fire and Ice )

Forbidden Feelings

He extended his hand, and I hesitated, unsure. Our palms touched, and suddenly, we stood amidst a breathtaking garden. Vibrant flowers bloomed around us, and intricately crafted swings hung from towering trees.

I approached the swing, fascinated by its ingenious design. The prince's low voice broke the silence.

"Sit," he said, his face obscured by his hood.

I complied, curiosity etched on my face. He positioned himself behind me.

I turned, seeking answers in his hidden expression.

"Hold tight," he whispered, pushing the swing gently.

She seemed to enjoy it, so I increased the pace. Her delight grew, and she shouted, laughter echoing through the garden.

Undeterred, I continued until she nearly tumbled off.

Regaining balance, she grasped the swing's ropes, perhaps dizzy from spinning.

Swaying gently, she locked eyes with me.

"Let's try something new," I said, holding her hand and guiding her out of the swing. I stepped onto the swing's seat and extended my hand. She took it, and I pulled her up, making her stand infront of me.

She turned, facing me, but I gently swayed the swing. She grasped the ropes tightly, her eyes sparkling.We swayed gently, lost in each other's thoughts.

Eventually, we strolled silently through the garden.

Lavender walked to a bench close by, standing close, and I stood beside her.

"You seem to have impeccable taste," she said, casting a fleeting glance.

"You seem to have enjoyed it," I observed.

Her response was silence, her gaze wandering.

"Feel free to take a stroll with Derek; let him escort you," the prince said,

"Don't think am stopping you from seeing him,"I said assuring her.

Lavender's glare was her only response. I extended my hand, using my eyes to gesture that she should take a seat.

"I see," she nodded, her eyes narrowing. "Are you implying you want to act as my servant?"

I remained silent.

"Your silence speaks volumes," she said .

I met her gaze briefly.

"Yes," she continued, "but that's beside the point. Why do you want me close?"

I'd expected her to ask this sooner, but she hadn't. Now, faced with the question, my mind scrambled for a response.

"What are you expecting me to say?" I asked.

"I don't know, but you certainly have a reason," she retorted sarcastically.

I remained silent, removing my hood. Her piercing gaze fell upon me, curiosity etched on her face. I released the band holding my hair, letting strands cascade down my shoulders. I replaced my hood, aware its secrecy would silence her.

"What was that for?" she asked.

I ignored her question, turning to walk away.

"Will you sit?" she asked.

I stood firm, hands clasped behind my back.

"Are you a servant?" she inquired.

I shot her a disdainful glare. "Do I look like one?" I retorted.

"Perhaps someone might mistake you as one, if they saw us like this," she suggested.

"Really?" I asked, locking eyes with her. She nodded.

"It's not bad if I can be your servant," I said, smirking.

Her expression turned icy.

"Don't joke," she snapped. "A prince should conduct himself with dignity."

"Prince?" I scoffed. "A prince can be whoever he chooses, whenever he desires, as long as it serves his purpose."

Her piercing gaze bore into me, but I refused to meet her eyes.

"Where are you going?" she asked, settling into her seat.

I turned, meeting her confused gaze. "Are you coming with me?" I inquired.

She remained seated, unmoving and I walked away.

I waited at a nearby corner, expecting her to follow. She didn't. Returning, I found her in the same spot.

I observed her from afar, intrigued. Hours passed; she sat motionless, lost in thought. Her attention never wavered, never seeking me out. Her introspection was palpable.

As I stood there looking, she turned, our eyes met. I held her gaze, and she shot me a stern glare before approaching.

Upon reaching me, I extended my hand; she took it, and we vanished into my domain.

Releasing my hand instantly, she stepped back.

I watched her.

"You may leave through that door," I said, nodding toward the exit.

She walked toward the door and opened it.

"Your Highness," a mysterious voice echoed as Lavender departed.

"Wise one," the voice continued, "don't regret your decision. You're proceeding correctly. Lavender likely harbors feelings for you, but beware: never let your guard down, even when she appears vulnerable."

"I've heeded your counsel, wise one," the voice replied before vanishing into thin air.

I craved Lavender's company, yet resolved to distance myself, sensing her preoccupation.

I summoned Derek, and he arrived promptly.

"Attend to Lavender's needs; ensure she wants for nothing," I instructed.

Derek nodded, then departed with a bow, closing the door behind him.

Derek hastened to Lavender's quarters. Upon arrival, he entered without knocking. Lavender, reclining on her bed, shot him a piercing glare.

"I couldn't help it; I thought something had happened to you," Derek explained.

"I'm fine," Lavender reassured. "I just need rest. Please, give me some time alone."

Her gaze lingered on Derek, emphasizing her desire for solitude.

Lavender whispered to herself, "I don't need this attention." Overwhelmed, she drifted off to sleep.

A disturbing dream jolted her awake. Groggily, she approached the window. The darkness outside revealed the late hour, with the moon and stars shining brightly.

"I slept heavily today," she thought.

Seeking dinner, Lavender descended the stairs, only to find the maids absent. The guards had also vanished. She recalled noticing him often pacing at night when the staff were out.

Rushing back to her room, a mysterious force drew her. Before she knew it, she stood inside his chamber. The door swung shut behind her. Soft light illuminated the room.

Lavender's gaze locked onto him

"What's wrong with you?" I demanded.

He slid back his hood, revealing his face in the dim light. I swallowed hard as he glided toward the window.

"It's a Blood Moon," he stated, his gaze fixed on the lunar spectacle.

"Why do the palace staff disappear when you're around?" I asked.

He scoffed, his expression shrouded in mystery.

"Lavender," he called, but she remained silent, standing steadfast behind him.

He turned, facing her. She simply stared.

"Tell me about yourself," he requested, releasing his hair from its band, his gaze drifting toward the moon.

"You already know about me," she retorted sarcastically.

"Perhaps, but only to some extent," he clarified, his eyes locking onto hers. "I want to know you intimately, as a person – the real Lavender, beyond titles and assumptions."

I maintained my composure, despite being caught off guard. "What about you?" I countered. "I know nothing about you, not even your true appearance."

"I'm beyond your imagination," he said with a smirk. "I'm not perfect."

"Your views are perfect, though," I said, "considering I've never seen you without hiding in shadows. What's your name?"

He chuckled. "You want to know me, yet you already know enough."

Is that what you think? I asked

"You don't want to tell me about yourself," he said.

"I asked you first," He reminded me.

"Ladies before gentlemen," I said, testing his chivalry.

He scoffed.

"You're adept at evasion; why not challenge me to chess?" he suggested.

I approached him, my curiosity piqued. "You refuse to share anything about yourself. What secrets are you hiding?"

Standing beside him, we shared the moonlit view. His gaze remained fixed on the horizon.

I grasped his shoulders, and he shot me a piercing glare. Undeterred, I held firm.

He turned, his face obscured by shadows. Rays of light danced around him, teasingly revealing fragments.

"Let's not cross boundaries," he whispered.

"You've already crossed mine," I retorted.

"Why me?" I demanded. "Why do you want me close?"

"No solid reason," he admitted.

"Do I look like a pawn on a chessboard, moved at your whim?" I challenged, stepping forward.

The moonlight illuminated me, while shadows shrouded him.

"To have me, you must pay a price," I stated, my voice firm.

"Like what?" he asked, intrigue etched in his voice.

"Something enticing, something that can win me over," I replied.

I hadn't finished speaking when he drew me into the shadows.

My heart racing, I pushed against him as chaotic thoughts flooded my mind.

"Like me?" he repeated.

I shook my head. "Like you, telling me about yourself."

He whispered into my ear, "But I didn't hear that."

"You didn't let me finish," I replied, struggling to maintain composure.

His breath tickled my ear. "I thought you had."

I pushed him away, startled. Our eyes locked.

Suddenly, my powers surged.

"Stop!" I warned, my voice barely audible.

Everything spun around me

I passed out. When I came to, he was gently wiping sweat from my forehead. He dropped the towel and rose swiftly.Our gazes locked.

"Are you okay?" he asked, concern etched on his face.

I nodded. "I'm hungry."

He scoffed. "Really? You're sending me on an errand?"

"You told me being with you meant you being my servant," I reminded him. "What happened to that? Were you joking?"

"Of course, I was pulling your legs," he replied, chuckling.

"My legs are intact," I retorted, smiling.

"What?!" He sounded astonished. "Are you getting back at me? You just woke up!"

"No, I thought you wanted to be a prince to serve a purpose, and I was part of that purpose," I said, eyeing him curiously. "Maybe it was to be my servant."

"Wow! I can't be your servant," he exclaimed, feigning offense.

"Whatever, I'm hungry," I stated, swinging my legs over the side of the bed.

He vanished and reappeared with a steaming bowl of fried chicken.

"I prepared this earlier," he explained.

I stared, hoping it wasn't conjured.

"Have some," I offered, extending the bowl.

But I declined.

"Why won't you eat?" I asked, narrowing my eyes. "Did you poison it?"

He shook his head. "Think whatsoever you want."

"It's your choice: eat or stay hungry," he said nonchalantly.

"I have no reason to poison you," he assured.

"Of course you do," I countered. "Why do you say so?"he asked

"I poisoned myself," I replied sarcastically.

He scoffed. "You're absurd, answering your own questions."

"Fool," he muttered, shaking his head.

"If you share this chicken with me," I proposed, "you'll be my servant."

His glare intensified

if you can eat this chicken,I will be at your beckon

"All for a meal?" I said,

Really! he asked surprised

"Yes, all for a meal," I replied, smiling.

He scoffed.

"Do you dislike my proposal?" I asked.

"It's cheap," he said.

"Will you cook for me?" I pressed.

"If I don't comply, what will you do?" he countered.

I held his gaze. "I won't cooperate. Whatever your plans, I refuse."

"You can't pay or offer something enticing. Yet, I'm giving myself to you. Aren't you grateful?"

He raised an eyebrow.

"How about I don't pry into your past until you share willingly?" I proposed, standing.

"Deal," he said. "I'll cook for you. You won't eat the chicken; I'll eat it."

I smiled. "You'll eat with me."

He nodded.

I took a bite, then offered him some. We finished the meal together.

"Let's cook," he suggested.

"Never mind," I replied, settling into his bed.

"Tomorrow," I added, feeling sleepy.

He stared at me before turning to gaze out the window. Unbeknownst to him, exhaustion overwhelmed me, and I drifted off.

I woke to find myself blanket-covered. Turning, I saw him beside me, eyes closed, facing upwards. Curiosity drove me to study his face. I sat up gently, navigating the shadowy room.

I brushed strands from his face. He grasped my hand; I struggled. He turned me over, pinning me beneath.

"This isn't our agreement," he whispered.

His hair veiled his face, shielding it from sunlight. Only his piercing gaze showed.

"Fine," I pushed, but he didn't budge.

Defeated, I stared up. He sat, releasing me.