And there it was—the scar. It was a thin, reddish mark that began just below his left eye mark, slicing upward, cutting through the end of his thick, dark eyebrow. It continued its upward slant, reaching near the edge of his forehead.
The scar didn't make him any less handsome; instead, it gave him a daring look that blended perfectly with his pale skin and alluring features. His eyelashes fluttered nervously, and he looked down, covering his face as if he sensed fear in my eyes.
"No... you shouldn't hide your face," I said softly, reaching out to touch his hand that covered his face.
"It's beautiful, I promise," I reassured him. He looked up to meet my gaze and shook his head slightly.
"It's not, Nora," he disagreed.
"Just trust me, Regan. I would never play around with something like this, okay?" I said, my voice gentle. Slowly, he removed his hand, but his mood seemed to shift to something I couldn't quite understand. He appeared sad.
I carefully applied makeup to his scar. Truth be told, he didn't need any of it. He was already incredibly handsome, even with the scar, as if it was a mark crafted by God's own hands. But he seemed to despise it, as if it brought back painful memories. I didn't know for sure... I just hoped he could forget about them and learn to live without the mask.
I examined the final result of my work and a smile escaped my lips. The scar was gone, as if it had never been there in the first place. It became invisible.
"Here..." I shifted out of his view. His eyes slowly opened and met the mirror in front of him.
For a moment, he seemed shocked. But as he recovered, he stood up and swiftly grasped my arm, pulling me closer to him. Before I knew it, his lips found mine. He kissed me.
The kiss wasn't long; it was short, kissing me tenderly and passionately, igniting a loud pounding in my chest.
"Thank you, Nora," he whispered, placing a gentle kiss on my forehead before retreating into his private room.
I stood there, smiling to myself as I felt the warmth spreading across my face. He had simply thanked me for doing something that others might have found ridiculous for a princess. At least I wasn't so useless, I thought happily as I sauntered towards my dressing room.
We both arrived at the stable, already dressed in common clothes.
"Do you know how to ride?" he asked.
I glanced down at my fingers, a tinge of sadness on my face. "No," I whispered. My father never allows me to do any of that. How can a princess, who is always treated like an egg and stuck in her room, learn to ride?
"Alright," he said and helped me onto the horse. He mounted the horse and sat behind me, and we rode off into the dark night.
We traveled through the bustling streets, and before we knew it, we arrived at the market.
Regan helped me down the horse and tied it to a tree, while I stood there, captivated by the scene before me.
Fire lanterns were lit up everywhere in the market, colorful paper lanterns and torches drifting through the sky, creating a magical glow. I looked up, amazed by their beauty. People danced to the music, and other girls happily purchased masks while sharing giggles. Everyone seemed to be having a great time. But I felt like an outsider. I didn't know how to approach them and join in the fun, even though I desperately wanted to, especially seeing many girls my age dancing around. I wished I could be one of them.
Regan came up behind me and placed his hands on my shoulders, gently nudging me toward the crowd.
"What are you doing?" I asked nervously.
"Don't just stand and watch. You should have fun too," he said, letting go of my shoulders.
"Don't be shy, Nora. I'll be watching you from over there," he added, pointing to an empty space with chairs.
"Okay..." I nodded, and he smiled at me before leaving.
I stood there, anxiously observing the ladies, until one of them stopped and looked at me. She said something that caught the attention of the others, and they all turned to gaze at me with wide-opened eyes. I felt scared for a moment. Did they recognize me as royalty? But the fear instantly vanished when I saw the lady rushing towards me with a smile.
"Oh my goodness!" she exclaimed as she approached me. "You're so beautiful. And your eyes are even cuter... I'm so jealous," she laughed and took hold of my hand. "I love pretty ladies," she added, pulling me towards the rest of the group.
I felt thrilled as the ladies began trying different masks on me. "This suits your pretty face," one of them said, admiring my masked appearance. I smiled, and the others giggled.
Soon, the music started, and they all began to dance, jumping up happily. I sat down, shyly watching them, until one of them pulled me up with a firm command, "Dance!"
It was so much fun that I forgot about my shyness and started dancing. Then, to my surprise, a man stepped forward and breathed out fire. How did he do that?!
Everyone began to scream as other men performed the same fiery act. I had never seen anything like it before. It was frightening, yet incredibly entertaining.
****
Regan watched as Nora happily laughed and danced around. He had never seen her so joyful before, and he couldn't help but think it was one of the most beautiful things he had ever witnessed. She looked like a little kid experiencing things for the first time, fascinated by everything and easily making friends with people she had never met before. He had been worried that no one would come near her, but thankfully, they all seemed to adore her.
A smile formed on his lips as he continued to observe her in the crowd. Seeing her happy filled his heart with a joy he couldn't quite explain. It made him forget about the burdens weighing on his shoulders. Whatever this moment was, he hoped it would last forever.
Nora... his beautiful, stubborn, and really jealous wife. He didn't know how he could ever repay her for what she had done for him today. His scar - the scar that haunted him even now. He couldn't bear to look in the mirror without his mask, afraid of the terrifying memories that would flash before his eyes. But then, she had taken off his mask, and he had thought he saw fear in her eyes. But it wasn't fear. She had told him that the scar was beautiful. A beautiful curse.
Then she had covered the scar. And for the first time in his life, he saw himself the way he never had before. For the first time, he didn't look like a curse.
What had he done to deserve a woman like her?
His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps approaching him from behind.
Who could it be?