Lucky Charm (Reverse Fairytales Book 2)(12)

“I was hoping you’d be in your night clothes,” he said when he came up for air.

“I’m not ready for this!” I said, pushing him back guiltily. I’d said no to him so many times that it was causing a rift between us. To my surprise, he didn’t seem upset.

“I’m sorry, my love. I know you want to wait. I got carried away. I’d promised myself I’d leave you alone, but I fear I’ve drunk too much whiskey. The wait will make our wedding night all the sweeter.”

He kissed me again, but this time much more softly. It was warm and nice. There was no pressure in it. It was what it was, and for the first time in quite a while, I enjoyed it. I found my body responding to his touch in a way it had long since forgotten. Without the pressure of things going too fast, I remembered how much I enjoyed these kisses. When he pulled back, I almost followed him.

“Will you walk me to my room?” he said, clearly too inebriated to get there himself. How he’d managed to find my room, goodness only knew. I put his arm over my shoulder and walked him to his suite further down the corridor. His room was similar to mine but slightly bigger. I could tell he’d had this room since childhood as it was filled with his things. Framed photographs lined the walls, and the shelves were filled with knickknacks and trophies and the clutter that accumulates over time. I helped him to his bed where he fell asleep immediately. His heavy breathing turned into the lightest of snores. I wanted to leave him there as he was, but he was still wearing his dress uniform which looked extremely uncomfortable to sleep in. I rooted through a set of drawers until I found his pajamas and then began the task of removing his clothing. It was strange. We’d been engaged for months, but I’d never seen him without a shirt on before. I pulled off his jacket and slowly unbuttoned his dress shirt. His chest was smooth, with just a smattering of dark hairs and as I looked down on him, naked from the waist up, I realized just how beautiful he was. I ran my hand lightly up his chest, marveling at the hard muscles covered in warm skin. Something stirred within me. This was the man I was betrothed to. I’d promised him my life. Why was I waiting for a kitchen hand to come to me? I pulled his trousers down, leaving him only in his underwear, before quickly sliding his legs into the pajama bottoms. Once he was fully in his pajamas, I pulled his bed covers over him.

He looked so happy and peaceful in sleep and now that I’d had a view of what to expect on my wedding night, I knew I should throw away my childish thoughts of Cynder once and for all.

I was just about to leave when a golden pin, lying on the bedside table caught my eye. It was in the shape of a rose. I’d seen the symbol before. Frederick Pittser had been wearing something similar.

I headed back to my room and closed the door. After a second’s thought, I locked it. If Cynder came to see me, I couldn’t open the door. I got changed and hopped into bed. In my mind I pictured my gorgeous husband to be, sleeping just down the corridor. Within minutes I was asleep, and the picture of Luca transformed into one of a kitchen boy doing dishes whilst dancing to the beat of his own music.





The Interview


I awoke with a start an hour or so later. Despite my promise to myself to only think of Luca, my dreams had been plagued by Cynder. I jumped out of bed, wondering if a knock on the door had awoken me, but when I opened it and looked along the corridor, I saw it was empty. I should have gone back to bed. I should have kept my promise, I should have done a lot of things. What I shouldn’t have done was grab my dressing robe and head out into the dark corridor, but that’s exactly what I did.

‘I need to tell Cynder that I’m marrying Luca to help the Magi,’ I said to myself. I wasn’t sure if I was trying to persuade myself that that was the truth or not, but either way, I knew I’d not be able to leave this palace without seeing him again. If nothing else, I had to tell him I was sorry.

I stole down the corridors silently, scared that someone would see me. Except for my own quiet footsteps, there wasn’t a sound. Everyone in the palace was asleep. I was a mere ghost within its walls. I didn’t know where the kitchen was, but I had a strong feeling that if I carried on heading downwards, I’d eventually stumble upon it. In all houses as magnificent as this, the kitchen was usually on the ground floor or in the basement below.

I hurried down staircase after staircase, getting completely lost in the maze of corridors. Eventually, I came to a small wooden staircase. It wasn’t nearly as grand as the others, so I took it to be the servant’s stairwell. I hesitated before slowly heading down. Every step I took felt illicit and wrong, and yet some unseen force was guiding me onwards. At the bottom was a door. Upon it was a wooden plaque saying kitchen. I opened it slowly, my heart hammering in my chest. I’d waited so long to see him again, and yet I was scared to rush through the doors. The lights were on. Someone was down there. I could hear the clinking and sploshing of cutlery being washed up. As I opened the door wider, I saw plates and cups flying through the air before dunking themselves in the sink. They were being washed up by magic. I burst through the door, unable to wait any longer and crashed straight into a young girl. She screamed loudly at my presence before realizing who I was and curtsying. The plates that had been held up by magic crashed to the floor where they shattered into hundreds of pieces.

The scream or the sound of the plates smashing brought down a big burly man wearing blue striped pajamas, who appeared in the kitchen just behind me. He looked like he’d just jumped out of bed, with his hair standing up in all directions and a decidedly sleepy look on his face.