Page 78 of A Broken Promise

“Well, I once pretended I was coughing blood when my elven maid questioned the blood on my clothes. She thought I was dying and tried to find any possible cure to heal my lungs until two days later she finally realized it was my first period. She was so mad that I was sure if I wasn’t dying before, I would be now. But at one point I was desperate and determined to stick to my lie that I had to put period blood on my face and lips to make my story convincing. So, when it comes to thirteen-year-old embarrassing stories, clearly, I win.” I dramatically blinked at him.

“Kinky!” He cackled, his eyebrows raising in sinful questioning. “So, tell me more, did you have to use multiple fingers to check yourself?”

“Ew. You are gross and disgusting.” I kicked his leg, and he winced. “Fine, you want something truly kinky? Then…” I pinched my eyebrows together in a snarky grimace. “I raise your stakes for a kinky story.”

“Now we are finally getting somewhere.” Florian bit his lip in anticipation. He moved his arms until they rested on top of his knees as if preparing for the most intriguing story of his life.

“My first time being on top, I gave my guy the worst splinter-filled, moss carpet burns on his back, like his whole back was bloodied up. The worst part is that he kept quiet the entire time until we were done, and I noticed the blood on his back. He tried to deny it at first but then I spent an hour pulling little pieces of tree bark from scratched up skin. He had to make up a story about how he got hurt but I was so embarrassed.”

“Ouch. So ruthless of you... But props to the guy. True gentleman.” Florian whole-heartedly laughed.

“He really was. I vowed to never again be on top but quickly broke my promise when he showed up with the horse blankets and leathers and a perfectly raked spot without a single bump.” I softly chuckled at the precious little intimate memories running through my mind as a little stream. Ollie. My dark eyed lover, my best friend, my everything.

I painfully smiled.

Gods, I missed him. I missed him so damn much. I missed his forever ruffled hair and those large dimples. I missed his always eager, but at times awkward hugs, his never-ending infectious laugh, that charming smile. I missed his unbroken faith in me and my dreams, his never-ending support even when I had my doubts. Gods of all, I missed how I felt when I was around him. He gave me hope. He gave me a future, and, in the end, he gave his life for me.

Gods, I really fucking missed him.

“Did you love him?” Florian suddenly asked, his gaze strong on my quieted eyes.

“Yes, I did,” I said. It was never hard to confess it, even though at times admitting that also meant knowing that love was not all powerful, nor healing or caring. No, for me love would be forever linked with pain and anguish. Because I did. I loved him with everything I had. Even if it was “a child’s love,” as Tuluma called it, I loved him then and I loved him now, and I was sure a part of me would love him forever.

“He is gone, huh?” Florian carefully asked.

“Yes. Killed by Destroyers.” The truth stung each time I thought of it.

“I am sorry, those fiery bastards really need to be put in check.” Florian rubbed my knee with his warm long hand. “He does sound pretty fun though.”

“He really was.” I chuckled, remembering the time I screamed at Ollie for throwing flour at me. Actual flour, that he stole from his father’s mill, because he’d found out I’d never seen snow.

“Still, you could never beat my most embarrassing story.” Now itwas Florian’s turn to pull my drifting mind; tugging on a thread, away from that sharp edge leading to the pit filled with grief.

Florian went on, sharing a deeply disturbing yet truly hilarious story until I had to wipe tears from my eyes from laughing. The tears that might have been bottled up for years, stored and preserved for pain and anguish, but now released through pure laughter.

Yes, we were all scarred, yet those imperfections shaped a thing of beauty.

40

The bright, white stone fence was like a fortress wall, thick and tall. Large golden gates opened wide, leading to the most beautiful building in Svitar.

The Royal Castle.

No pictures or postcards could ever do it justice. It was grand, celestial. The rounded towers seemed to be never ending, the carved columns supporting the cut-out bridges leading to the multiple halls and places within the walls.

The long, mahogany carpet lined the way from our car down to the main entrance. There were multitudes of people gathered around, watching the Royalty arrive.

Watchingusarrive.

Holding Florian’s arm tightly, I followed him, slowly making our way to the ballroom. My steps were steady though my heart only sped up at our arrival.

Florian beside me walked confidently, not fazed by the wandering eyes pausing at his presence, even in the crowds. If I didn’t know better, I might have taken him for the king himself, considering the amount of people that recognized him or slightly bowed at him. Someof the women were bold enough to give him a lusty smile and a seductive glance as they held the hands of their own husbands.

Perfect, white marble floors, like a mirror, reflected our moving figures inside the ballroom hall. The building was grand. Enormous, Apollon columns stood throughout, supporting the second-floor ring of balconies. Large, ceiling-tall windows were slightly curtained, showing the most gorgeous view of the Svitar and the Kinderby River.

I tried to keep my head still, making a conscious effort to avoid twirling around to see the exotic dancers strung up to the roof with nothing but a cloth line, performing all manner of aerial dances. Far below the sizable stage, a large orchestra played festive melodies, accompanied by the feather light dancers wearing nothing but black feathers and their pointe shoes. I couldn’t stop looking at them, moving as if they were nothing but feathers themselves; so elegant, each move so precise, each stroke so effortless.

I didn’t notice that we'd stopped until the upbeat voice of Florian snapped me out of my complete infatuation with the dancers.

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