Later that day after the events of the evening Gisella found herself back in her room. Roseia and Otho had fussed over her enough to last a lifetime and she felt quite ready for bed.
However a bright red item on her nightstand caught her attention from the prospect of sleep. Gisella picked up the red rose with a fond smile as she grazed the soft leaves and hardy stem. The next thing she noticed was the parchment that lay beneath it.
‘Will you join me in the gardens?’ it read. At the very bottom beneath the familiar handwriting was a crimson R. Gisella’s eyes widened now as she finally understood who the roses had been from all along; Ryre.
Her sleepy state was shaken from her at the prospect of meeting Ryre in the gardens again that night.
“What do you look so giddy about?” Roseia asked as she came into the room stretching. Gisella only handed her the note as she smelled the rose more closely and relished in the fresh smell of it.
“Gisella!” Roseia squealed once she finally read over the small note, “Oh, we have to get you prepared!” And in a flurry Roseia quickly helped Gisella into fine silks and comfortable shoes.
Her heart pounded against her chest as she clutched the note and rose to her body and her mind raced at all the things Ryre might be calling her for. Absentmindedly, her thoughts trailed off to their moment in the changing rooms and heat flushed to her cheeks as she thought about the way he had held her.
Gisella’s mind was quickly brought forth to the present time when a tall figure stood in front of her, seemingly arriving from nowhere. The man grabbed quickly at the note and rose in her hand.
“Hey!” She yelled out irritated at the behaviour of the man, “Give that back, you toad—“
But her sentence was cut off as her eyes came in direct contact with the glittering gold bands of royalty. Only, this time, instead of the charming gaze of Ryre, she was met with the sly, cunning look of another royal.
It was the man from the kitchen. She wouldn’t miss that tuff of blonde hair anywhere or the piercing and cold gaze of those eyes. Her own skin crawled at the look he gave her, his mouth upturned into a grin.
Menacing. It was the only word she could describe him as.
“What have we here?” The royal read her note aloud in a mocking manner, “My, my. Don’t tell me you’re going to meet this man so late at night? What would the public think of our little performer parading herself around, giving private performances in the late hours of the night? Tell me, who is it?”
Gisella’s eyes widened as she reached forward quickly and snatched the note from the man. She doubted she needed to protect Ryre’s reputation. Although the man in front of her was a royal, she doubted he could outrank a prince.
But a part of her didn’t want him to get into any other trouble, “You have no right to take others’ personal property, sir. No matter what the colour of your bands are,” she told him tightly and moved to walk away.
But the man snatched her back and gripped her jaw hard in his hands.
“Listen, servant. I am Prince Galeran of Farrador, and I get what I want.” He brought his face closer as a sinister smirk began playing on his lips. “Or whoever I want. You will do well to remember that. Fortunately for you, I have more important things to attend to now.”
And with a harsh push against her face that sent her staggering back, Prince Galeran left Gisella gaping and afraid in those corridors.
A prince? Was that Ryre’s brother? She shook her head. The two could never have been any less alike. She thought of the cool warmth of Ryre in contrast to the chilling cold of Galeran and tried to shake her head of the sensations.
Wiping at the fear filled tears that had escaped her, Gisella turned around from the humiliation and degradation before making her way to the gardens again.
By the time Ryre had found her, she was still sniffling lightly. His previous wide smile at the sound of her approaching ceased and fell from his lips as he noted the redness of her eyes and nose.
“What happened?” He asked her as he approached, cupping her face into his hands as he tried to make her look at him. She only pushed his hands away and shook her head.
Ryre gritted his teeth, frustrated at her refusal to tell him what had made her cry.
He sighed deeply and pulled her into his chest as he tried to comfort her. Whatever had happened, he tried to calm himself, she would tell him when she wanted to.
Gisella tried not to sob into his chest as strong arms encased her, fighting back the words she so desperately wanted to tell him. But she didn’t want to cause a disturbance between the brothers over such a fickle thing.
“Come here, darling thing,” Ryre pulled her deeper into the gardens, “Let me show you these beautiful sights.”
Gisella allowed herself to be led into the garden by Ryre’s hand. He led the two of them to the back of the garden where a large fountain was nestled, stone benches surrounded it and on either side there sat dozens of rose bushes.
They crept around large wooden constructs that held the flowers up and shielded the stone benches from the elements around it. It was there that he led her and sat her down on them.
Gisella watched as Ryre grabbed the beaten rose from her hand and replaced it with another, more fresh one. She thanked him again.
“You shouldn’t cry,” He told her as he wiped her cheek softly. When she opened her mouth to apologise he shook his head, “Precious things like you should only ever feel joy.”
Her heart leaped in her throat at his words, and she ducked her head as she covered her face, not having the strength to look into his eyes.
“Don’t say things like that,” she whispered softly with a laugh.
When she looked up at him she found him smiling down at her with that teasing smile of his, “And why not?”
She could only bite her lip in reply and shake her head. Then an idea sprung to her mind for a way to tease him as well. Placing the rose on the stone bench behind her, Gisella moved closer to Ryre as she placed a leg on the bench between them.
She watched as his eyes widened as she grabbed his hand and placed it on her beating heart. Her breath hitched at the skin contact there and her heart only thrummed harder in her chest.
“Because,” She tore her gaze from his as she admitted to him, “This is what it does to me.”
She heard a sharp intake of breath from him, and when she looked up at him from beneath the hair that had fallen in front of her face, she gasped as he lunged at her and slammed his lips onto her own.
It was a hungry kiss, and she had her hands reach for the back of his head to pull him into her with the same amount of fervor. The tension that had been building between them snapped like a string pulled taught, and they each pulled each other tighter, wanting to be closer.
Gisella gasped when he pulled her onto his leg and ripped his mouth from hers in favour of attacking her neck. He nipped at her pule point with blunt teeth, and a pleasured sigh left her lips.
When he pulled away, Gisella could only stare at him with clouded eyes. She wasn’t shocked to see the same look mirrored in his own.
The chirping of birds was what caused them to break from each other and she turned to look behind her.
Slowly from over the mountains the break of dawn was beginning to rise.
Her attention was caught as Ryre pulled her back and gave her one more kiss. “I will visit you again tomorrow, will you wait for me?”
“I could wait for you for an eternity,” she confessed and his eyes only widened slightly as he laughed at her.
Grabbing the rose tightly from the bench she hissed, as the thorns pricked her hand. She watched as a small amount of blood gathered on her two fingers.
She turned to Ryre as she placed the fingers in her mouth, and was shocked at the steel cold look he held in his eyes.
He cleared his throat and hastily excused himself from her before leaving her alone in the gardens.