Page 47 of Lost Heir
As we lay there, both panting heavily, I traced my fingers over his skin. His eyes met mine and I saw unbridled love and devotion swimming in their depths.
“I love you, Leila.”
Those words were monumental, but something stopped me from saying it back. Instead, I smiled up at him and caressed his face.
We lay there for a moment, basking in the afterglow, our hearts beating in sync. The room was filled with the scent of our sweat and arousal. We finally broke apart and I rolled onto my side, pulling him close to me.
“Stay with me?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper.
He grinned and pressed a soft kiss to my lips. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”
And so we lay there in the aftermath of our lovemaking, listening to each other’s heartbeats and the gentle sounds of our breaths mingling in the air. The world outside the door could wait. For now, we were content in our own universe.
15
We spent the day in bed doing the kinds of things that would make a lady blush. I was voracious, and almost didn’t want to leave until Viktor knocked on the door, informing us that dinner had been served. Unwilling to allow the bubble we’d built around us to pop, I took Ronan up on his offer to explore the capital.
Escaping the confines of the palace felt like shedding a second skin, one made of lofty expectations and responsibilities. As Ronan and I slipped through the ornate gates, disguised in cloaks that blended with the crowd, a sense of liberation enveloped me. The capital of Valoria, with its bustling streets and vibrant marketplaces, was a stark contrast to the silent, echoing halls of the palace.
“Where to first?” Ronan asked, his voice low, almost blending with the murmur of the crowd.
I pulled my cloak tighter around me, the fabric whispering against my skin. “Let's just walk. I want to see everything. It’s been ten years since I last roamed the capital.”
As we meandered through the cobblestone streets, thecacophony of the capital surrounded us—a symphony of haggling voices, laughter, and the distant melody of a lute player. The air was rich with fragrant spices and freshly baked bread that mingled with the slightly cooler breeze that promised the onset of evening.
“Look at that!” I exclaimed, pointing to a stall adorned with vibrant fabrics from distant lands. The colors were a feast for the eyes, patterns dancing in the fabric as if alive.
Ronan leaned closer, his interest piqued. “You have an eye for beauty, Leila. Shall we get one as a keepsake?”
Before I could respond, the scent of something sweet and warm tugged at my senses. “Mooncakes,” I murmured almost to myself, drawn to a nearby stall where a kindly old man was displaying an array of the delicacies under a sign that read, “Moonlight Delights.”
“Ah, mooncakes,” Ronan echoed, a smile playing on his lips. “Just what we were looking for! Let's get some. How many do you think we should buy?”
I approached the stall, mesmerized by the wide array of mooncakes, each imprinted with delicate patterns. “Maybe a dozen? Some for now, and some to share with Henry and Selene.”
The old man behind the stall caught our attention and beamed, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “A dozen it is. Would you like to try the lotus paste or the red bean? We also have a special filling made from the sweetest dates.”
Ronan looked at me, a silent question in his gaze. “Your choice, Leila.”
“Let's try a mix of all three,” I decided, excitement bubbling within me. “And could we have two of each to eat now?”
The old man nodded, carefully packing our selection into a box adorned with images of the moon in variousphases. As he handed the box to us, I couldn't help but feel a connection to this place, to these moments of simplicity and joy. I thanked the man and Ronan handed over the coins as payment. We each took a mooncake and slowly bit into the sweet, rich filling that seemed to melt on the tongue.
As we continued our exploration of the capital, mooncakes in hand, the sights and sounds of the city felt like a vibrant tapestry unfolding before us. The laughter and chatter around us seemed to echo the lightness in my heart—a lightness born from the simple pleasure of sharing mooncakes with someone who understood the value of these moments, away from the shadows of the palace.
“Today is absolutely perfect,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper, afraid to break the magic of the moment.
Ronan glanced at me. His crimson eyes were soft under the hood of his cloak. “It's not over yet, Leila. There's so much more to see, and I'm right here with you.”
Just then, I believed him. The capital, with its endless possibilities and hidden corners, felt like a promise of more days like this—days filled with discovery, laughter, and the shared sweetness of mooncakes under a vast, unjudging sky.
“By the goddess, I can’t believe this is still here!” I hurried over to a children’s toy store, one in which I’d whiled away many hours as a child. I gazed up at the storefront. “My father would take me and Marcellus here whenever we managed to sneak out of the palace.”
“I’m almost certain you would have caused your father to go broke,” Ronan chided, and I lightly punched his arm. “Come on, let’s keep walking.”
The allure of the city’s heartbeat drew us further into its embrace, leading us to a cozy tavern tucked away on a side street, its warm light spilling out onto the cobblestones. “Why don’t we try some of the Love in the Moonlight wine here?” Ronan suggested, a playful challenge in his eyes.
The tavern's name, The Crescent Pour, was painted in elegant script above the door, a nod to Valoria’s belief in the moon goddess. As we stepped inside, the lively melody of a string quartet greeted us, music weaving through the air like threads of silver moonlight.
