Francis slowly turned and pushed me off. "Stop touching me. Don't start what you cannot finish," he said coldly, walking away from me.
"Marry me," I repeated.
He turned slightly towards me, but he still didn't look into my eyes. "I am not ready to. I haven't married you and look at what you have turned me into. What if I get married to you?" He asked.
"Then you would have me to yourself for as long as you want," I answered, desperately.
He smacked his teeth. "Give me some time and I would get over everything. It's all an illusion," he said.
"Marry me," I kept saying.
"What do think marriage is?" He asked, with his voice quite raised. "Give me some time to get over what I feel towards you and I'll leave you to get married to any man you choose," he said.
"Why don't you want to get married to me? You love, me don't you?" I asked.
"I wouldn't call it love," he answered.
"Then what it is?"
"Void. It's all just a matter of time. I am sure everything will vanish soon."
"Marry me," I insisted.
"One more word about marriage and I'll seal your lips forever," he threatened. "I can't have a tiny human clinging unto me and calling me it's father."
I really wanted to laugh, but I wouldn't dare.
I wondered it that was what his fear was. Maybe he was scared of having a child. But when I looked at him, admiring his perfect features, he still had his eyes closed.
"Why do you always close you eyes when you're with me?" I finally asked.
"Because I cannot look into your eyes," he slowly answered.
"You love me so much that you can't look into my eyes but you still wouldn't agree to marry me?" I asked….oh no, he warned me not to say anything about marriage.
"I'm sorry. …" I mouthed and I immediately stepped back. I fell to the ground and covered my mouth with my hands. "Please don't seal my lips," I begged.
Francis turned towards me and he smiled.
His lips parted gracefully as he chuckled softly.
I had never seen him smile and I couldn't stop looking.
Did I just make him laugh?
"Stop being so petty. Trust me, you wouldn't want to get married. Men are something else," he said before walking out of the room.
I stood there, completely enchanted my his smile. I looked out the window to stare into the skies. "Help me, mother. I think I have fallen in love with the devil. I promise to get your revenge after he agrees to love me."
~Aurora's POV ends.
Francis walked into the throne room with his black attire swinging elegantly as he moved. He still had that smile hanging on his face as he walked towards the throne.
All the other council members bowed and shook with fear. But . .. something was wrong.
Francis smiled.
They all couldn't help but still glance at him. It seemed as if they almost never found him smiling. He would only smirk when he wanted to punish someone in the most ruthless way.
But, sir. Oliver on the other hand boiled with anger. It seemed as if he already knew the reason behind Francis'smile and he hated it.
"And what have you all been talking about while I was away?" Francis asked and the smile slowly faded away. "One lie, and I would burn all of you," he said.
One of the old men with quite a big head raised his head and wore a frightened smile on his face. "Your highness, we were actually discussing about something important. It's something that will benefit the whole of cresent, especially you, Your highness," The old man said.
Francis's brows creased. "And what is this thing supposed to be?" Francis asked and they all laughed.
They had obviously been talking about it before he arrived.
"We want you to get married," the old man answered with a bow and they all nodded in approval, including Sir. Oliver.
"And since when has that had anything to do with you? Whether I get married or not is none of your business," Francis coldly stated.
"Please, your highness," Sir. Oliver begged.
Francis couldn't help but glare at him. Sir. Oliver should understand the reason he didn't want to get married.
"It is all for our good, your highness," Another said.
"No. I cannot go through the trouble of looking for a wife," Francis said.
Sir. Oliver smiled. "You don't have to worry about that, your highness. We have a perfect woman for you," he said.
"Who?"
"Princess Arabella, your highness. King Luther's first daughter," sir. Oliver answered.
"You mean the skinny one with an usual hair color?" Francis coldly asked as his lips curled with disgust.
"Your highness, she's a beautiful one with a perfect body. All the princes want her. And her hair is blonde, your highness, it's not unusual like you would call it," Sir. Oliver answered and the other elders kept nodding in approval.
"Oliver, you should understand better than anyone else that I cannot get married at this time. I understand your concern, but I cannot take a wife," Francis refuted.
Sir. Oliver bowed. "I clearly understand what you mean, your highness but I do not think that we have anything to worry about. We already know what the trouble is and we are currently working on it, so your highness, feel free to marry this woman that the village has offered."
"Bring her in!" One of the elders ordered the guards and the door opened, revealing a woman surrounded with guards.
She had a green dress that perfectly complemented her fair skin. Her blonde hair was left resting behind her as her perfect body swayed while she walked ahead.
She had a face as perfect as a rose and a scent that smelled like a fine combination of flowers.
The guards couldn't take their eyes off the beauty they had just seen. Just like the elders had said, she was truly a beauty to behold.
She offered a bow and smiled elegantly. "it's good to finally meet you, your highness," she calmly said, with her soothing voice.
Sir. Oliver cleared his throat. "I am sure that the king has seen this beautiful woman with his own eyes. So what do you say, your highness? Don't you want her to be by your side?" Sir. Oliver asked, teasingly and Arabella tried to walk further towards Francis.
Francis stretched his hand and created a barrier that stopped her from moving. "Leave. I cannot let you move closer to me. I have a woman that really wants to get married to me and she wouldn't like you staying next to me, and I wouldn't like it either. Her scent is still on me. I don't want yours ruining it," Francis coldly cautioned.