3
“Your majesty!” Valentino gasps, his dark eyes looking me up and down. That’s when I notice that I’ve never realized how long his lashes are, or how high his cheekbones are, or how strong his nose is. Or the freckles splattered across his nose and cheeks. I suppose I just always thought it was dirt. All of the words in my mouth sink back into my stomach, tying it up in knots. “May I help you?” he asks, his dark brows furrowing. I swallow the lump in my throat and regain my words.“I was just wondering what you were doing up so late,” I lie. Well, it’s not entirely a lie. I was wondering, but that’s not why I came down here. His eyes dart from me to behind him, before landing back on mine.
“Rae, you really shouldn’t be down here, you know that,” his voice is quiet, careful. “You need to go back,” I don’t know if maybe I’m just going crazy, but in his voice, is a sense of longing. He’s changed so much. When I first saw Valentino, he was just a boy and even then, I had a soft spot for him. Watching him from afar. We started talking when I was eleven.
“As the princess of this kingdom, I demand that you let me in,” I say, with as much confidence left in me. Val raises an eyebrow, letting out a small laugh.
“Fine,”
His cottage is humble, to say the least. In fact, it’s more of a room than a cottage, no bigger than my chambers. What might pass as a mattress lays in the corner of the room, a green cloak thrown over. Looking at the cloak is enough to make my skin begin to itch. Is this where he sleeps? It’s depressing, to say the least. In another corner there’s a table with two chairs that Val leads me over to.
“You live here?” I ask, turning to him. His tanned skin glows softly under the warm light of the candles, stealing the air straight from my lungs. He runs a hand through his dark, messy hair and for some reason, my eyes follow. Almost as if I’m entranced in him. My heart pounds in my throat. These are the feelings that I was afraid to explore. Everyday, for the past eighteen years, I’ve watched him from afar. I feel like I’ve known him my whole life, yet I don’t even know the first thing about him.
Valentino’s words are like magic, encapsulating me. In this moment, as I look deep into his eyes, I forget everything. We haven’t talked like this since we were kids. Since before my mum passed. Val made all the ceramics in our garden, plant pots with daisies and roses carved into the base of each. Watching him make them was hypnotizing, it still is. Val runs his long, slender fingers through his hair once more, I notice the small curls at the ends of his hair. I notice the knots as he works his fingertips through it.
“Astraea,” he begins, not breaking our eye contact. “I’ve missed this,”.
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