Arin
The first thing I felt was the cold.
Not the soft chill of night air, but the sharp bite of stone beneath my bare skin. I was in a daze as I wondered where I was.
My eyes fluttered open, then darkness and confusion closed around me. Heavy, still, silent. The air was thick with the scent of roses and dew and something deeper, earth, sweat… and him.
I sat up slowly, wincing as pain radiated from my hips, thighs, the base of my spine. Soreness laced through my limbs, not sharp but aching, intimate, strange. My body felt used. No, claimed.
A gasp lodged in my throat.
My hands scrambled around my body for the fabric of my gown, and found to my dismay that it was gone. Only torn silk and scattered petals clung to my naked body like a memory.
I did not have enough time to react to this alarming information when… I heard him.
A low sound.
A man's moan.
I turned sharply.
He lay a few feet away on the stone floor, chest bare, back to me, half-covered by what looked like someone's discarded cloak. Dark hair. Big, broad shoulders. Still breathing.
My heart thundered against my ribs and my jaw almost dropped to the ground.
Who?
I reached out, tentative, trembling. Afraid to see but still needing to see.
But then he shifted, another groan escaping him, this one deeper, sounding like he was closer to waking.
Panic surged through me like a thunderbolt.
No. No. No. i couldn't be there when he woke up.
I scrambled to my feet, ignoring the soreness that bit at every step I took. I grabbed the cloak from beside him and wrapped it around myself, then fled, barefoot and wild through the garden.
Branches snagged at my skin, thorns scratched across my ankle, but I didn't stop.
I ran with my heart pounding hard, like the night was chasing me.
Like he was chasing me.
By the time I reached the palace steps, my legs burned and my lungs ached. I ducked through the servant's entrance, heart pounding, cloak clutched tight. The halls were quiet, thank the Moon goddess. No patrolling guards, no curious glances.
If someone saw me, there would be no way to explain. What would i tell them i was coming from, looking so ruffled.
Thankfully no one saw me.
No one must see me.
And I was able to go all the way up to the floor where my room was. I crept into my chambers like a ghost slipping back into her grave after a night of ghoulish missions.
Once the door shut behind me, I leaned against it, breathing hard, the silence ringing in my ears.
And then I slid to the floor, pulled my knees to my chest, and trembled in fear.
What happened to me, how did I end up in that place with a naked man?
My fingers touched the bite marks along my collarbone. My lips were swollen. My thighs ached.
Something had happened out there in the garden.
What i could not understand was how i had gone from wandering through the garden then waking up naked.
With him.
But who was he?
The darkness had hidden his face, just like the haze in my mind had stolen the clarity of the moments up to the point when I woke up. All I could remember was heat, skin, the feel of hands that knew me, knew my body like they had been there before, like they belonged there.
But I had never known a man before tonight, so how was that possible?
And yet, I hadn't stopped him.
No… I had wanted it.
Desperately.
Gods, what had come over me?
Tears welled up, but I bit them back.
I should be ashamed. Angry. Terrified for what would happen to me if anyone discovered what I had done on my wedding night.
I was married to the king, there would be no escaping his wrath. In fact, he would be glad to have an excuse to be rid of me.
And it does not matter one bit that he betrayed me and led me to the situation I now found myself in. I thought bitterly.
But all I could feel beneath the fear, beneath the confusion was this terrible, aching pull for the strange man.
I wanted to go back.
To see him. To know who he was. To feel that fire again because even in the chaos, even in the haze, something about him felt… right.
Like my soul had been waiting for him.
And now it was wandering the halls of my chest, calling out to a name I didn't know.
I felt shame at the feelings that this strange man elicited in me. I should feel filthy but instead, i was craving this man.
I dragged myself to the wash basin and cleaned myself as best as i could, there was no use sitting around looking the way i did. I wrapped the stolen cloak and hid it in one of my trunks along with my ripped clothes.
After that i wore a clean nightgown then slipped into bed and curled up under the sheets. The soreness between my thighs throbbed with every shift.
I should tell someone.
I should ask what happened.
But no words would come.
I was too afraid they would confirm the truth.
I would be put to death as a filthy adulteress, my father's name would be sullied.
So I closed my eyes and let the ache linger.
And in the dark, I whispered one silent, shameful thought.
I wish I had seen his face.
As I lay there unable to sleep, the door suddenly opened without warning and I shut my eyes tight and breathed evenly, pretending to be asleep.
I listened as footsteps drew close to the bed and stopped before the footsteps receded and then I heard the sound of the door as it opened and closed.