As the group buzzed with light conversation and admiration for Prince Dorian, Alistair's arrival sent a palpable ripple through the gathering. His striking figure caught everyone's attention, drawing gasps and whispers from those present.
Dorian, poised and calm, watched as Alistair approached, aware of the weight of the nobleman's influence over the crowd. Emilia felt her heart skip at the sight of him, her gaze fixed as Alistair joined the discussion.
The man's voice was smooth, his words blending into the conversation with practiced ease. "Ah, Prince Dorian," he began, a hint of playful challenge lacing his tone. "I couldn't help but hear that you're being rather modest about showcasing those famous hunting skills of yours. Surely, a prince of your caliber wouldn't deprive your admirers of such a display?"
Dorian offered a polite smile, nodding to the eager faces surrounding them. "Your Highness, it's a pleasure as always. I had thought a peaceful morning in the woods might be preferable. There are many ways to appreciate the beauty of these forests without disturbing their balance."
"True," Alistair conceded, his smirk unfaltering. "But surely the guests here are eager to see the prince in action."
His gaze drifted over the crowd, noting the rising anticipation in their eyes. "It's not every day they have the opportunity to witness a legendary hunt by none other than Prince Dorian himself."
Dorian inclined his head, trying to maintain his gentle refusal. "Perhaps another time, Your Highness. My duties keep me occupied, and I fear my mind has been elsewhere as of late."
But Alistair wasn't about to let go. Taking a step closer, he leaned in and whispered, his voice low enough for only Dorian to hear, "Isn't it our duty as royals to entertain the people? After all, we live by the very taxes they pay, don't we?" His words, while light, held an unmistakable undertone that urged the man to reconsider.
"Think of it this way, the funds we're using to care for your mother's health," Alistair murmured, his tone smooth but piercing. "Isn't it only right to offer a little entertainment as a show of gratitude? After all, this is a rare opportunity to thank them directly."
Dorian's jaw tensed, and a glint of frustration flashed in his eyes. Alistair's words were cleverly crafted, blending courtesy with obligation. The prince, who had hoped to avoid the spectacle, now felt the weight of his role more acutely.
Still hesitant, Dorian glanced toward the crowd, their eager expressions leaving little room for refusal. They had come to witness something exceptional, and Alistair knew exactly how to fan the flames of their anticipation. Before Dorian could respond, Alistair turned to address the gathering, his voice warm and encouraging.
"Everyone," he called out, his tone perfectly timed to resonate through the group, "wouldn't you all love to see what our esteemed prince can achieve today? A true demonstration of his skill?"
A cheer rose up among the attendees, the excitement infectious as voices rose in agreement, urging Dorian on. "Yes, Prince Dorian!" one woman called, her eyes bright with admiration. "We've all heard of your skill, and it would be an honor to see you in action."
Another guest chimed in, "We seldom have this chance, Prince Dorian. It would mean so much to everyone here."
Dorian, seeing the growing enthusiasm and knowing he had little choice, gave a small, resigned sigh. He met Alistair's gaze, a flicker of resignation and acceptance passing between them.
"Very well," he said, raising his voice so all could hear, his tone gracious. "I'll join the hunt, though I can't promise the stories are entirely true."
A wave of applause and excitement rippled through the crowd as they clapped and cheered in anticipation. Alistair's smirk softened to a genuine smile as he nodded to Dorian, satisfied he'd won this round. "Thank you, Prince Dorian," he said with mock solemnity. "I'm certain you won't disappoint."
Emilia, still caught off-guard by Alistair's sudden presence, stood by silently, her gaze shifting between the two men. She couldn't help but wonder if there was more to Alistair's words than mere encouragement. His subtle manipulation left her with a sense of unease, as if he was playing a deeper game than anyone else realized.
***
Inside the softly lit changing room, Dorian was fastening the leather straps on his hunting gear when Emilia entered quietly, her steps hesitant but determined. He looked up, catching her gaze in the mirror, his expression softening as he saw her concern.
Emilia stepped closer, folding her hands in front of her. "Be careful out there," she murmured, her voice laced with a hint of worry she couldn't quite conceal. "The forest can be unpredictable, especially with so many watching."
Dorian turned to face her, a gentle smile spreading across his face. "You have my word," he said, his tone warm and reassuring. "I'll return safe and sound. Besides, I can't leave you here all alone to face everyone, now can I?"
Emilia managed a faint smile in return, though it was tinged with hesitation. "Just… make sure you come back," she added, her voice almost a whisper. Because she still needed him, especially related to the mysterious healer.
Seeing the genuine concern in her eyes, Dorian's smile softened even more. "Wait for me," he replied softly, his gaze holding hers for a lingering moment. "I'll be back soon."
Emilia nodded, then she turned to leave and Dorian watched her go, sensing the unspoken words between them. The door closed gently behind her, leaving him alone in the quiet room. Taking a deep breath, he adjusted his collar, mentally preparing himself for the hunt, but also knowing that part of him was eager to finish quickly for her.
Emilia tightened her whisperingstone around her finger, its weight reminding her to stay alert. As she walked down the hallway, her footsteps echoing softly, a sense of unease lingered. Suddenly, one of the doors to an abandoned room creaked open, and before she could react, a strong hand pulled her inside. The door shut behind her, trapping her in the quiet, small space.
Breathing heavily, Emilia's eyes adjusted, and she found herself staring straight into Alistair's intense gaze. His hand rested on the door beside her, effectively cornering her against the rough wooden surface.
"Something happened today, didn't it?" he asked, his voice low and probing. "You seemed… distant."
She met his gaze defiantly, masking the confusion she felt. "What do you want?" Her tone was colder than usual, and she watched as a flicker of surprise crossed his face.
He leaned back slightly, though he maintained his hold over the moment. "I thought perhaps you had something to say to me," he said, attempting a gentle smile. "You bid Dorian farewell so warmly. I wondered if there was anything you'd like to say to me before I go as well."
Emilia's expression didn't soften. She stayed silent, her gaze steady, waiting for him to make his point. Alistair seemed to study her, almost as if searching her face for something hidden.
"Well then," he murmured, his voice dropping lower, "perhaps I have something to say."
Before she could react, he leaned in, closing the distance between them. His lips pressed firmly against hers, catching her completely off guard.
Her mind raced, her breath catching in surprise as the warmth of his mouth lingered. She froze for a moment, her hands clenched by her sides, her heart pounding loudly in her ears. Alistair pulled back slightly, watching her with an intensity that left her breathless.
"Em.." he whispered, his voice softer now, almost vulnerable. "You don't need to hide behind walls with me."
She stared back at him, still shocked, her thoughts tangled and conflicting. Finally, she found her voice, though it was barely more than a whisper. "Why? Why would you do that?"
A slight smile played at the corner of his mouth, though his eyes were serious. "Because I wanted to know if there was a part of you… that feels anything for me." He paused, searching her face. "If I've misread, then I'll leave. But I needed you to know."
As Emilia tried to escape, putting some distance between them, Alistair leaned in closer, his breath warm against her ear. "Careful," he whispered, his voice carrying a knowing edge. "Many eyes are on us right now."
Confused, Emilia narrowed her eyes. But as she steadied herself and allowed her senses to heighten, she became acutely aware of faint murmurs and shuffling from beyond the walls. Not just one or two, it sounded as if an entire crowd was encircling them, listening intently.
Her gaze darted toward the window across the room, where sunlight fell, casting shadows that moved subtly, betraying the presence of those outside. And in the rooms to her left and right, the barely audible breathing and shifting confirmed that they were surrounded.
Alistair's eyes watched her carefully, picking up on her dawning realization. He gave a slight, almost triumphant nod as if acknowledging the truth she now sensed. "See?" he murmured. "It's better for us to let them believe things are as they should be."
Emilia's frown deepened, suspicion shadowing her expression. "And what exactly do you mean by that?"
Alistair held her gaze, his voice smooth yet persuasive. "We both know how little opportunity we have to appear together, to show them a united front. They're all desperate for a glimpse, a sign that their trust in the royal family is well-placed. If we play our cards right, we could silence countless rumors."
She hesitated, struggling with the conflicting emotions inside her. Alistair's logic was sound, though she didn't like feeling manipulated. Her role as a representative of the royal family came with responsibility, and the realization sank in that this moment, as uncomfortable as it was, could sway public perception in a positive light.
"Fine," she conceded, keeping her tone low. "But what exactly do you want me to do?"
A sly smirk lifted the corner of his mouth. "Let's show them what they're truly hoping to see." His hand moved from the door to rest lightly on her shoulder, his fingers brushing her collarbone with a tenderness that surprised her.
Without giving her time to protest, he leaned down, his face close to hers, and let his hand trail along her arm, creating an intimate closeness that would appear affectionate to anyone watching from the shadows.
"You know," he murmured, loud enough that their observers might overhear, "My feelings for you are more than I'd care to admit."
Alistair started brushing his lips against hers, a calculated move that quickly grew more intense as they began to kiss, his hand resting at the back of her neck, pulling her closer with a surprising tenderness.
Emilia adapted herself to the role she had to play quickly and pressed into him, deepening the kiss with a fervor and allowing herself to get caught up in the heat of the moment as her fingers threaded through his hair, pulling him closer still.
Responding to her silent guidance, Alistair matched her intensity, his hand slipping down to the small of her back as he drew her tightly against him, the firmness of his body pressing into hers. The kiss grew hungrier, a tangible sense of urgency between them as they moved slowly across the room, guided by instinct until her back met the edge of a sturdy wooden table.
Without breaking the kiss, Alistair's hands lifted her by her waist, guiding her to sit on the edge of the table. She wrapped her legs around his hips, feeling the warmth of his body through the fabric of their clothing. Her ankles locked at his lower back, pulling him into her, the closeness and heat between them undeniable.
Every movement was deliberate, almost as if choreographed, though fueled by a rawness that made each touch and each press of their bodies feel authentic.
Through the haze of their shared intensity, Emilia took the opportunity to whisper, her voice low but commanding. "They need to believe this," she breathed, her words barely audible as she pulled him closer with her legs, increasing the pressure between them. "This has to be real for them."
In response, Alistair's lips curved slightly against hers, his hand slipping to the nape of her neck, fingers weaving into her hair. "Then let's give them what they want," he murmured, a note of mischief in his voice. His hands slipped down to her thighs, his fingers pressing firmly, eliciting a soft gasp from her that seemed to reverberate in the stillness of the room.
***