I wanted to return to my quarters. I really did. But my legs had a mind of their own, and somehow, I found myself lingering just outside the throne room doors.
Why was my heart racing like this?
The doors creaked open, and Julius stepped out.
Oh no.
I clenched my fists, silently praying he wouldn't notice me.
"You."
Of course he noticed me.
I felt the sting of tears press behind my eyes. Of all people… why him?
I quickly stepped forward and bowed deeply. "Your Highness. Is there anything you need?" I forced the biggest, brightest smile I could muster, one I absolutely didn't feel.
I didn't dare provoke this demon.
I kept my head down, bowing even deeper for good measure. Maybe if I acted invisible, he'd just leave.
"Rise."
His voice was sharp, but not cold. I straightened slowly, only to meet his piercing gaze.
For one breathless second, our eyes locked.
Then I looked away. I don't know why—it just felt wrong to keep staring at him like that. Was he always this intense?
He scoffed. "Forget it."
And with that, he turned and walked away.
I watched his back as he moved down the hallway, his shoulders unusually stiff, his footsteps loud in the silence.
Strange… I felt a pang in my chest. He looked so pitiful.
No. No, no, no. He's the villain. I reminded myself. The villain. Do not fall for that brooding, misunderstood air.
The door behind me creaked open again, pulling me from my thoughts.
"Bella."
I turned. Jesse stood there, his voice low and hoarse.
"Let's go."
He didn't look surprised to see me waiting. In fact, the way he said it. it almost felt like he expected me to be there.
I nodded, quietly falling into step behind him.
We were heading to his quarters. I tried not to read into it, but the steady rhythm of our footsteps and the quiet that wrapped around us made my heart thump unevenly. When we finally arrived, he opened the door, and I stepped inside first.
He followed after and quietly closed it behind him. The soft click of the door sounded louder than it should have.
I stood straighter. He hadn't said anything on the way so naturally, I assumed whatever he wanted to say had to be important.
"Bella," he said again, his voice low and hoarse, a tone that always made me brace for something serious.
"Stay with me. Keep me company."
I blinked. That was… not what I expected.
"I—I—I'm afraid that's not appropriate, Your Majesty."
"Don't care about what's appropriate or not. I give you the permission to treat me normally."
"No, I really can't.."
He cut me off. "It's an order, Bella. Just for some time, mmh?"
Before I could respond, he gently took my hand and led me to the bed. We sat side by side, much too close, knees almost touching. I was hyper aware of everything, his warmth, his scent, the way his gaze lingered on me.
"Tell me something interesting."
"Okay…" I said, voice soft.
It's an order. It's an order, I repeated to myself like a chant, trying to ground my thoughts.
I cleared my throat.
"There was a wolf in ancient times…"
He looked at me, amused.
I began.
"So there was this ancient wolf. Very noble, very wise. But also... very bored. One day, he got it into his head that he wanted to fly. Fly, Bella! So he goes to the Owl Elder, who was blind in one eye and wise in the other.
'Owl Elder,' he said, 'I want to fly. Teach me.'
The owl blinked (with his good eye) and said, 'You're a wolf. Wolves don't fly.'
But the wolf was persistent. 'If pigs can dream of it, why can't I?'
So the owl, after much nagging, finally agreed. He tied two large eagle feathers to the wolf's back with a vine and shoved him off a cliff.
Spoiler alert: he did not fly.
He landed in a berry bush and got stung by seventeen bees. Not sixteen. Seventeen.
He limped back to the owl and said, 'Clearly, you tied the feathers wrong.'
The owl, now sipping tea like he hadn't just created roadkill, said, 'No, you're just not aerodynamic.'
So the wolf tried again. He built wings out of squirrel tails and fish bones. He jumped again. And again. The results were equally painful.
Finally, after his eighth attempt and third broken paw, he lay on the grass and looked up at the stars.
'I guess wolves don't fly,' he sighed.
Just then, a butterfly landed on his nose.
'But we still dream,' he added dramatically.
And so the villagers carved his tale into cave walls. Not because he flew, but because he was too stubborn to stop trying."
I laughed at the end, wiping a tear from my eye.
Did you enjoy the story?"
His eyes were closed when I turned to look at him.
I tilted my head and whispered softly, "Jesse? Jesse?"
No response.
I hesitated, then reached out, my fingers trembling just slightly. Gently, I guided his head to my shoulder.
He didn't resist.
And so there he was, the prince resting against me like he had not a single care in the world.
He looked… peaceful.
He moved a little.
"Are you awake?" I asked again, more quietly this time.
Still nothing.
I bit my lip. He must be uncomfortable like this.
Slowly, I reached behind his head, careful not to wake him, and with all the gentleness I could muster, I adjusted him laying him softly down on the bed.
I lingered for a moment, just staring at him.
Then I stood to leave.
But before I could take a step, his hand shot out and grabbed mine. Firm. Unrelenting.
I froze.
He didn't open his eyes. Didn't say a word.
Yet his grip held me in place as if even in sleep, he didn't want me to go.
So I stayed.
Just like that.
Hand in hand. His head resting on the pillow, my heart beating wildly. I didn't know what any of this meant.
But at that moment… I didn't want to pull away.