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Veiled Affair [Reserved]

Silver Lining

Super-Earth
Joined
Jan 25, 2011
"But, Mother...you know I've always been weary of those animals!"

The exclamation fell upon deaf ears as Victoria was forced to follow the stubborn woman who was not going to have any of this. She was the Queen, thus, why would she have to listen to her daughter complaining? Victoria's life had already been set in stone from the moment she was conceived, and would stay in order until the day she died. To put it lightly, the nineteen year old was slowly fading away. Her spark was catching a wind-chill, as the nearing of her twentieth birthday was breathing down her neck, soon to be followed by her wedding day. Who was her betrothed? A man she had yet to meet, and a man from what she had heard, was quite famous amongst the muffled whispers flowing throughout their kingdom.

He sounded like one who had gotten around, and not in the good way either.

The day was gorgeous, the sun set high in the sky whilst the birds happily chirped and decorated their garden, which led them out to the back stables of their estate. Surrounded by lush grass and sweet smelling flowers, Victoria would much rather have preferred to settle down and enjoy the scenery of what their workers created. That, was not on today's roster, though. She was going to learn how to ride a horse, due to the fact that her Prince Charles was quite the fan of such a hobby. Was he going to learn how to crochet lace napkins? No, of course not. It was her duty as a woman to bend over backwards for someone she knew she would eventually come to hate.

"No complaining, young women of your stature don't do such a thing. Also, you will be in good company, Sir William is our best rider and will be teaching you," Queen Anne informed, her robes trailing behind her in a mess of maroon silk. Victoria was dawning a far more simple gown, allowing her to learn the basics with less obstructions. Nevertheless when she laid eyes upon their valiant steeds, she grew nervous and her tender palms were sweating out of sheer fear. She was delicate, standing at only a mere five feet and two inches. That beast could kill her in one blow! Yes, she was beyond comforted knowing her beloved William would have her safety in his hands, but that would not take away from the gripping nausea forming within her gut.

William had been there since she could remember, always the Knight her father was most proud of. He boasted about the man whenever he could, and the King had every right to. The women would swoon for miles, and keeping it to herself, Victoria couldn't blame them. Such fantasies were near sinful and she was horribly embarrassed with herself when she dared to dream of a day when he would hold her hand. She blamed it on her hormones and the lack of physical attention she had gained thus far. Absolutely no interest from another, or any bit of affection.

It was strenuous, especially on someone with such a big heart as Victoria.

Keeping a good ten feet between herself and the mount, she rang her fingers together tightly, the long fiery tresses adorning the top of her head tied up against her neck in a white ribbon. She was a beauty, and gained the best features from her parents. A nimble slope of a nose, brightly lit green eyes accompanied with a caramel hued tan. Victoria was aware of her blessing, yet she never dared to boast about such. It wasn't polite, and she was far too naturally humble for that type of talk. In fact, they would dare say she was too shy for her own good.
 
One could not ask for a kinder, gentler, stronger, or more noble knight than Sir William, noble knight to His Majesty the King. And on this day, one would be equally hard-pressed to find one more nervous.

Not that William was uncomfortable around the royal family, not at all. As the youngest knight ever dubbed, at the young age of 17 (nearly 9 years ago, now) he had been a fixture in the king's house for a great while. Even before he was knighted, he had began to develop a humble relationship with the royal family, and many of his childhood memories were of running about the castle, fetching blades and delivering messages and helping the knights before him suit up for tournaments and battles. Indeed, he had always done his best for his king and for his god, and the favor he received for it was well-deserved.

Still, the idea of having the beautiful young princess's safety and education on his hands was more unnerving than facing a battalion of soldiers. Even the times when he'd ride beside the king himself, or escort the queen to and from various fiefdoms, wary of the assassins laying in wait, held no threat to him compared to this delicate creature. Victoria was easily the most valuable object in all the lands he'd traveled, and that was a heavy responsibility to shoulder. As much as William knew how to shoulder responsibility, something about the young noble gave him knots in the stomach.

As the two Ladies of the realm approached, William gave an obligatory bow, and carefully balanced his face. If you smile too much, you risk being seen as a fool, or of being perceived as making a mockery of the royalty. And if your face is stern, then you can be strung up for treason. Less so when you are as trusted as Sir William, but it is still a concern, and a matter of propriety.

"Greetings, fair ladies," He spoke while his face was still pointed downward, and only righted himself after he had been properly acknowledged. The princess had dressed accordingly for her lesson, as had William, swapping a mail tunic for his usual plates, and brown trousers instead of his usual full-greaves. His blade still hung, sheathed, at his side, after all, he was still a knight, even if he wasn't on the field or in the hall. He did his best to only glance at the princess as much as was absolutely necessary, despite his desire to sit and study her appearance. It is rare to find such a beautiful young woman, especially one who has yet to grow conceited. He placed his hand upon the smaller of the two steeds, a brown creature who, despite being one of the smallest in the king's stable, still towered over young Victoria. Handling it carefully, with the slightest nudges and tugs, he led the horse to Victoria, halting with the creature at about 3 paces distance.

"Your majesty," He said, addressing the queen, his tone steady and respectful, "I judge by your apparel that you will not be remaining for the lesson. Have you any additional instructions before I assist Princess Victoria to her mount?"

While the queen gave her reply, William stole another glance at the young princess, and reflected upon her. He noted that she seemed even more exquisite today than as he usually saw her, freed from the trappings of a half-dozen attendants and a stuffy, flowing dress. The way her hair, fiery and almost glowing in the sunlight, was set allowed a fair vision of her slender neck, the faintest traces of muscle beneath it swimming below soft flesh. He had dreamed of that flesh more than a knight as chaste as himself ought, and so quickly returned his gaze to the queen, giving another low bow as she finished speaking, without letting his hand leave the horse's neck. The young princess seemed nervous and intimidated, and the last thing she needed was for the beast she was supposed to be learning to control to make a sudden movements to fuel her uneasiness.

When the queen was gone, he'd give the princess the full attention she deserved... or at least the attention her tuition required.
 
"Hnm...no, I do believe you know what is required of you, Sir William. We entrust you that Victoria here will be in great care, and won't end up caught beneath her horse," Anne informed, holding back a smirk when she saw her daughter practically quiver at the thought. Oh, she could be so cruel at times! Nonetheless, it was appropriate to keep the girl on her toes. She was too much of a hermit, and immediately thought the worse of things. The Queen simply bowed her head in brief gesture to her exiting afterward, before turning around in a sweep of silk and leaving the two alone.

Victoria's knees were growing weak beneath the thin cotton of her gown, and she dared to reach for an invisible structure to her left. "Do we have to," she muttered, seeming to loosen up when accompanied only by William. "I feel awfully nauseas...and...those horses, they're far too big for my liking. Perhaps we can think up an excuse," she insisted, a childish smile crossing over ripened lips. She couldn't help but let her true self show when in the presence of the other, he allowed a wave of comfort to flow over her. No one dared to give her such an impression, and thus, she took full advantage of the moment.

Exactly why did her future husband insist on riding horses throughout the day, anyway? When they could merely sit and have tea, some lovely conversation too? No, he had to boast about his skills of taming a steed and trampling along the gorgeous fields of lush green. Her mother was given the divine idea that Victoria should learn a lesson in such activities, as if it were her duties to impress the trollop of a man. Ha! Victoria would have none of it if she could actually get a word in edgewise. Sadly, she was not in any position to truly speak her mind and regrettably agreed to this. Well...it wasn't as bad as she had imagined, William was here after all, and he did look quite charming in his new attire. Perhaps too charming...

These thoughts were perverse, more than she would ever admit. Just standing here, knowing she was hopelessly attracted to her father's most prized Knight made her feel dirty and uncomfortable. Of course, when hidden within the sheets of her bed late at night, the soft wind pattering against her window and forcing the muscles within her frame to relax...Victoria was able to think all she wanted to. Oh, would her mother be appalled with the fantasies that ran wild within the young one's mind, forcing toes to curl and gasps to be heard. As if jerked from her concentration then, Victoria stammered back from the stallion whilst a nervous giggle escaped her.

"Ohhh...this is not going to be fun..."
 
The queen seemed either oblivious or insensitive to her daughter's uneasiness, but then, it wasn't supposed to be William's place to make judgments on her Highness, so he only gave another respectful bow as she left. The princess wasn't nearly as bound by protocol nor filled with the air of propriety and stuffiness that characterized her mother. William always admired that in her, the ability to be in but not of the higher court, it made her more approachable and easier to relate to.

She practically dropped all memory of being a princess when they were alone, after all. William was nevertheless careful to choose his words in a way that was appropriate, considering her position, "Milady Victoria, as sensitive as I am to your plight," He approached her, horse in tow, even as he spoke, "If you have no knowledge or skill to show when our time has concluded, I daresay the queen will have one or both of our heads." He smiled and halted the beast. He was now half an arm's length from the beautiful princess, and stopping here was as much for his sake as for hers.

This close, she was borderline intoxicating. He couldn't help but notice how comparatively sheer her gown was, compared to the large, flowing, bulging trappings her parents enjoyed stuffing her in. He wanted to reach out and touch her, to feel her beneath it, and behind it, but such was criminal. He'd be committed to the executioner's blade for so much as revealing that he had fantasized about taking the young virgin to himself. It took him a moment to collect himself, before he reached forward and took her hand. He held it for a moment carefully, before using it to move her towards the horse, doing his best to be as gentle and proper about it as possible.

"Don't worry. He's a good, kind horse. And even if you don't intend to be an avid rider in the future, you should be comfortable around these beasts."

Her hand was soft, unworked, virgin. As he slowly maneuvered her towards the horse, holding her hands just tight enough to keep her from jerking away, he reflected upon how his hands must feel, being hardened by so much training, work, and battle. Some of the careful reservation in his face melted into sorrow, he wished he had more to offer her in terms of nobility and propriety, but then, he wasn't her betrothed, so it wasn't a problem.

A sigh punctuated and terminated his thoughts, and he returned his attention to the princess and her tuition.
 
"Please," she quickly cut in, her eyes immediately turning towards the Knight, "Victoria...just...call me Victoria." She was insistent and such showed in the fiery disposition reflecting within the pools of emerald that made up her eyes. She had told him many times before, as they were practically friends and had been for quite some time now. Dare she say they grew up together, and thus, she had grown accustomed to the thought of him being casual towards her. Of course, she couldn't expect nothing less of him at the moment, seeing as though he was merely acting the part he was raised to play.

Nonetheless, friends or not, she wanted nothing to do with the horse. Her heart was threatening to leap out from the confines of her chest, and flop onto the grass at their feet. The Princess watched wearily as the tall creature neared her, forcing an audible gasp to hiccup forth through her slender throat. Heavens, if her mother wouldn't have her beheaded, she would die here and now due to a heart attack.

"William..." Victoria whispered the second he took her hand, the gesture warming to her soul yet it did nothing to ease her blistering nerves. Each foot was that of nearing death and she panicked, trying to pull away but not having the heart to do so. After all, the warmth that emitted from William's hand was intoxicating, and seemed to sink within her very flesh, raising goose bumps upon her arm. "I...but I don't want to grow comfortable around them. I would much rather watch them from afar," she insisted, stubborn. There was absolutely no way she would be able to settle upon one of these giants, and the sheer thought of doing such an outlandish thing sent her turning away quickly, averting her eyes.

Why, oh why did her betroth have to be everything she never wanted?

As she toiled over her current problems, it was then she took note of her fingers having laced with the man's. They were connected, tight and secure. Her cheeks were deepening in shade and heightening in temperature, the young woman turning to inspect the way their hands appeared when interlocked. Beautiful. To her, they fit perfectly and her lips dared to curve ever so slightly, mimicking that of a secret smile. Though he was calloused and rough, she admired these assets and was vehemently willing to explore more of him. Surely, those strong arms would feel remarkable when wrapped about her waist. That mouth, touching every inch of her supple, unused body...and that tongue...

Victoria was blushing fiercely, her eyes widening when she realized that she was practically fantasizing about William, when not but a few inches away from him! "I don't love him," she blurted out suddenly, as if she was reassuring the Knight herself, of where her heart truly lay. "Therefore, why should I put myself through this, for the sake of a man I want nothing to do with? The women...they talk, William. This man that I'm to marry...he beds them all," Victoria murmured, looking quite worried. Because, what if she did gain feelings for him? What if he cheated without pause? Broke her heart? Left her...all alone?
 
Given the choice and the time to break the habit, William would love to call Victoria by her first name. Not only was it a nice name, and her name, but it would let him feel like there wasn't an oak tree growing between them, pushing them further and further apart with time. He did take the opportunity to mentally chide himself again; she had mentioned this preference of hers in the past. The one time he had called her Victoria in the presence of her mother, though, he was swiftly reminded of his place on the totem pole. Anything less than 'Princess Victoria' in public, and he was liable to be strung up.

But this wasn't public. And as she whispered his name when he held her, he became shamefully aware of this. He painted her lips, just barely parted with his name slipping out, in his mind. He knew it would haunt his lonely dreams and quiet fantasies for weeks to come. She halfheartedly struggled against his pull, her fear of the horse was much deeper than he had originally considered. He quit forcing her forward, and released his grip from the horse's reigns, allowing the beast to calmly saunter off for a few steps. He wouldn't make her do anything she was so adamantly opposed to.

He would have to find something else for them to do. Something that would take the right amount of time, energy, and be somewhere hidden, so nobody would be able to reveal the fact that they weren't doing as they had been instructed. He was trying to think of the solution when she made a sudden burst. It took him a moment to realize just what 'him' she meant. He struggled to get his words in order. "Love," has nothing to do with it, he wanted to say, for it was the truth. Nobles married for land, or power. Not love. Love is something for snaring people like William, who wish only for their princess, but know can never have her. Realizing his pause, he continued, "Is nothing I am fit to offer advice upon. Though if you have reason to believe his honor isn't intact, perhaps such is something to bring up with your father." It pained him to imagine Victoria caught in some loveless marriage to a man who views her as but one of many bedmates. If this Charles weren't a prince, the knight wouldn't hesitate to address the matter himself, but such wasn't the case, and a knight had to know his place.

More than the urge to run off and protect the princess from external problems, though, was his urge to hold her close, comfort her, feel her. He had never really considered how difficult it must be for her to go through this latest set of trials. As they had grown up in each other's presence, he always knew it was difficult for her to express herself from behind her father and her mother. But he never considered how uniquely challenging it must be to have even your marriage decided. As a knight, romance and marriage were the last things William was permitted, and he always figured that she would be happy to finally find one to be betrothed to. Indeed, he had assumed that she had loved him, in some way, on some level. That she didn't filled him with a unique mixture of sympathy and guilt and, worst of all, desire. He desired to hold and caress her, to warm her and breathe her in, and to love her. He exhaled sharply and tried to catch up with time.

In an absent sort of way, he realized he was still holding her hand, loosely, carefully, beautifully. Of course, without the horse there, without the pretense of taking her hand for an explicit reason, this fact exciting him in strange ways, stirring his stomach with feelings and ideas, and in fear, he loosed his fingers and turned away, knowing that blood was slowly rushing to his cheeks. "Come, let us walk. If we aren't to ride, the horses need to be turned into their stables. Or, if you would rather spare the short hike, to their hitches.." Besides, he considered, a chance to walk and to breathe should help him regain a hold upon his nerves, and his imagination.
 
When William eased the reigns out of his grip, allowing the horse to gain distance between them once more, the Princess was visibly relieved. It allowed her heart to not skip too many beats, and force her prominent chest to rise with an uneven stature. Victoria would admit, even though he was a Knight and technically further down the ladder of prestige, she still wished not to look like a complete fool in front of him. He, at least to her, was the closest person to her heart. He knew things about her that not many did, and though they were often not allowed to speak or even be in one another's presence, Victoria would hold their friendship true to her heart. William was sweet, genuine...and he was unbelievably comforting. Victoria felt at ease when he was near, and thus, of course she wished for her future husband to give her the same sensations.

Wasn't it natural? To want the best out of a person she was to be with for the rest of her life? But no, it wasn't that easy. Even if she did go to her parents, voicing out her worries, they wouldn't be swayed from their decision. Not only were they stubborn, but they were in such a horrid relationship themselves. Her father had cheated on her mother countless times, and vice versa. They often found pleasures within others and would continue to do so, because if anything, their courtship was based purely off of title and the sake of keeping tradition. It sickened the young woman, made her gut clench violently and her throat go dry. She wanted true love, passion and truth. That's all, but such was unheard of.

Oh, these were the times she wished to be a peasant...

Just a normal girl, living with her parents and experiencing life as best she could. To fall in love and have her heart broken, only for it to be fixed by the man that she would bear children to. To walk around with her friends, talk out of turn and spend her mornings lounging in bed until her mother came flooding in, yelling. She wanted to be able to express herself, that was all. She had no voice in this Kingdom, and never would. Everyone spoke for her and soon enough, her husband would drown her out into a void.

Thinking about it depressed the Princess, to the point she often cried herself to sleep. Having no one to truly turn to for her problems, she felt utterly lost and alone. Did she deserve this? Had she made an awful decision in another lifetime, and this would be her punishment? Victoria was snapped away from her suffocating thoughts when William's general warmth was no longer connected to her hand, forcing an adamant frown to appear. She had enjoyed that, but alas, it wasn't in their placement to partake in such events. Ringing together her fingers, she nodded, dumbly walking towards the stables. It was only right the horses would be able to relax in their homes, after all. Yes, she was bloody frightened by them, but they were living creatures and deserved equality.

"Perhaps I don't deserve to fall in love," she muttered under her breath, her bottom lip quivering in the process of voicing out her views. Victoria tipped her chin up, gazing towards the sun. She was a beautiful, wealthy young woman...of course she couldn't have a fairytale ending, that would be absurd. It was going to take a while to get used to it, nevertheless, this...loneliness...
 
The way to the stables wasn't far, mostly due to the fact that they hadn't actually gotten to any sort of a lesson. William was looking forward to taking the opportunity to teach the young princess, but not if she was not willing to learn. The horses were very obedient, and William managed to get them to follow a pace behind and to the side opposite Victoria during the short walk back, their feet making dull thudding sounds in the grass.

Victoria had a soft voice, despite her forward demeanor. Were William not listening intently, he wouldn't have caught her words. But she held all his attention, so her words, scarcely more than a whisper, met his ears as if they were dictated by The Almighty himself. "Victoria," He started, his hand instinctively moving to the crook of her elbow as he turned towards her, "If anyone deserves to find love, it is you. You're sweet, beautiful, kind, and without a hint of malice." He was mildly shocked at how forward and honest he was being. Were the queen, or even another knight, present, he would be much less bold about voicing such a dangerous view.

But it was the truth. Victoria was the epitome of humanity. Most young nobles, especially princesses, find the only comfort of their scripted lives in either abusing their position, or indulging in either lust or gluttony. Victoria's pleasures, as far as William knew, were simple. The smile that met her face when she was given a rare moment to relax and enjoy the grounds, or the way she could blush at a compliment, the fact that he had never seen her exercise wrath upon a serf simply because it was in her power to do so... these things spoke so highly of her personality, that William could fall in love with just the idea of her, even if he wasn't faced with the beautiful virgin before him. She was the inspiration that let his blade strike true, his hands grant mercy, and his heart stay clean. He lived his life so that he could be worthy of her approval.

But being worthy of something, or deserving something, was never the deciding element in whether or not you receive that thing. Deciding he'd already given her enough rope to hang him if she wanted, he saw no reason to keep from continuing, "If we all got what we deserved, though, your's would be a castle in the sky, and the angels would tend to your desires. But such is not the case. A princess must defer to her father's wishes, just as a knight to his princess, and a squire to his knight." Social reform was a risky topic, to say the least, and one that William was careful never to dwell upon, however much it pained him. So it was with a sigh, a declined head, and a halted step that he continued, "It's not my place to make such sweeping declarations, I beg your pardon. But remember that if you ever need one to help bear your pain, I am willing."

The horses had passed by the knight and his princess, and were nudging the door to their stable. Again William noticed his lingering grip upon Victoria, and he hastily moved forward, retrieving his gloves from the saddlebag of his Steed.
 
Victoria stood there, absolutely dumbfounded with what had graced her ears moments prior. William had fed her compliments, in such a truthful tone that she almost believed everything he spoke to be genuine. The princess couldn't help but wish that such a wondrous gentleman might have feelings for her, but she knew he stayed true to his duty. He would never cross that line, and that's what she hated the most. She only wished that her future husband could be a third of what William was. Oh, how she would envy whoever he fell for. What a lucky woman she would be.

The Princess tipped her eyes down towards the grass, feeling her heart begin to ache. Her mind was reeling, and she wasn't sure whether or not she was happy...or sad. She certainly missed the firm warmth pressed against the crook of her elbow, and where his fingers had lingered, it tingled undoubtedly. She wanted to feel at least something sincere, according to love. She wanted to know what it felt like to be held by another, who would lay his life on the line for her. Who would look at no one else, and dream of no one else. Where he was happiest by her side, and had to be touching her hand wherever they went. Victoria yearned for this with every cell in her body, and thus, she stepped forward hurriedly towards the Knight. What was she about to commit? Heresy. Her mother would have her head.

"William," she called out hesitantly, her eyes gleaming with desperation, "You're the only one that's ever been there for me...who...who actually listens to me. It means the world to me, I hope you know." A trembling hand reached out then, and stopped his motions, refusing to let him put his gloves on. His fingers were rough yet strangely smooth, the years of work they had done beginning to finally show. She admired how much larger they were and smiled, the curling of lips lighting her entire face up. "You will never have to bear my pain," Victoria assured, lifting his hands up, "I care too much about you, to let you suffer as I have..." There, she kissed his knuckles, delicately so. The gesture was heartbreaking, as if she cherished every little detail of him and then some. Her heart had always belonged to him, secretly, and the Princess could only pray that one day, they would be together... Now, whether that place of bliss was only in her dreams, or tucked away in her quarters, she didn't care. She just wanted him.

"Will you do anything I ask of you," she inquired, lashes fluttering. "If yes, then kiss me...please, just let me feel something true..."
 
As her fingers gripped his hand, William was struck by paralysis. He had taken her hand before, and that had never bothered him. But the way her hand moved, gentle tremors and smooth fingers, was utterly disruptive. He barely remembered to breathe. "Victoria, I..." His words lacked voice, they were lost whispers to her, she had stolen his voice as well as his volition.

And then she kissed them. They were gentle kisses, like fallen petals caught in a breeze, they brushed past, and he was scared that they might fall apart. This was wrong, all wrong. And yet, despite knowing that he now owed the executioner his neck, he wanted it. He needed it. Her words were sad and stained, and reflected his own heart. He had no words to offer back to her, not that he would be able to give them if he did; she still held his voice.

Finally, the burning heat and the stabbing cold subsided, and he was able to move. He should have ran away, but he didn't. As a knight, he had always been most loyal to her, the princess, and he couldn't leave her, no matter what the impending punishment would be. He would follow her, if need be, into the bowels of Satan, and then pull her back out if her whim desired. And so when she asked him to kiss her, it wasn't just impulse and lust that twisted his hand in hers, that drew his other hand to her shoulder. It was a long-ignored love that drew him towards her, even as her eyes batted hurricanes at him. Every sane part of him was resisting, but it was too late for sanity and reasoning.

"Anything, Victoria..." His gaze was lost in her eyes, and his slow, uneasy breaths filled him with her aroma, "I..." His heart angrily beat against his ribcage, trying to throw itself at her's; his free hand slipped from her shoulder to just below her shoulder blades, "I can't." His words and his lips were not of similar philosophies, though, for as soon as the words left his throat, his lips met hers. He did not know how to go about it, his motions were governed by instinct and the divinity before him. And in that sudden, forbidden, unrehearsed kiss, William rediscovered himself, and his soul was ignited in the moment.
 
Victoria was nearly to the point of screaming out in protest, if he dared not give her this singlehanded moment of pure, guttural and raw bliss. She knew he wanted it, as he knew she wanted it as well. They were both very much aware of their desires, yet their restrictions were continuously holding them back from truly committing what, to her at least, would be perfection. Would her parents approve? Of course not, they would more than likely have both of their heads settled upon a platter. However, as that horridly gruesome punishment was breathing heavily down the back of her neck, it did not thwart her from gazing towards the man standing in front of her, seeming to be wrestling in troubling thoughts. Oh please, oh please...Victoria pleaded silently, her beautiful eyes watering with sheer frustration and lack of control.

She had gone long enough like this, swallowed by her pain and denial of her true feelings...her absolute adoration for her Knight...

Just when she had lost all hope, her lips were arrested in a kiss that stole her breath. She went frigid, struck with shock before the natural movements of their lips sealed together warmed her to the point she thought herself to turn into a puddle at any instant. Victoria whimpered, the sound muffled whilst she pressed her entire form up against him. Her fingers sought along the firm length of his chest, before she lovingly cupped the sides of his face in delicate palms. She pulled him down and close, as to taste him completely. The Princess had every right to be greedy with her actions, the pain in her heart subsiding to aching passion, the heat rising at a steady pace from the tips of her toes, to the top of her head. Oh, what would anyone say? Surely they wouldn't understand what she was feeling, since Victoria herself, was blissfully oblivious to the true expressions twisting inside her gut. Was she enjoying herself? Certainly. Did she know who she wanted to be with? Without a doubt. Was she hating herself for setting them both up for disaster? Of course.

Pulling away only when oxygen was needed, she panted hotly against his mouth, her lips swollen, red and glistening with a mixture of their saliva. "William," she breathed, her nails trickling across the back of his neck, teasing the line of his hair. "Please don't run from me...I would surely break if I lost you, you're all I have," Victoria confessed, the plush petals of her mouth sweeping across his own with each carefully recited syllable.
 
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