38
He felt weightless as he let his body float half submerged in the water. Tendrils of his hair floated around him weaving a halo circling his head. The light from his window refracted through the water dreamily and he wondered if he could be buoyant and numb like this forever.
He dared not close his eyes though. Flashes of her angry, hateful face would circle his vision making him feel like there was an iron anvil laid upon his chest. Never had the sight of her made him so physically ill in such a negative manner.
The only noise he could hear under the water was the silent bubbling in the pipes. That is until he heard the door open and frantic footsteps coming towards him.
His short reprieve was coming to an end.
"Prince Damian!" The voice above him exhaled and panicking hands grabbed his shirt and pulled him out. The Prince was instantly assailed with frenzied slaps on the back as if he had truly been drowning.
"Vincent," Damian groaned, hoping his valet noticed he was not indeed dead.
His short statured head valet who was half wet from pulling the Prince out from the bathing tub wiped tears from his eyes and gave his master a kiss on both cheeks.
"There, there, Vincent. I was not killing myself, I assure you. My mental state is not so broken. I do remember my responsibilities in this world," The Prince patted the older man's back with far less aggression than he had.
"You cannot linger in this state, Sire. It is not seemly to see a man of your position and physical attributes look so downtrodden. You must at least change your attire."
Damian looked down at his sodden state and nodded. He let himself be hauled up by his valet. They walked back to his bedroom leaving wet foot prints behind and once the Royal was dumped on the bed the valet went back to the closet room to find more appropriate clothing.
Damian's let himself rest flat on his back wondering whether it was acceptable to never walk out of his room again. His hands traced the stitched pattern on his bed sheet. It stopped as soon as he found a piece of rolled parchment resting serenely in the middle. He pulled it open wondering if there were more words his mother had left him or some sort of apology from Bea but it was neither of the two.
The words he read mutely made his world tilt off its axis.
It felt like a feather was resting on the edge of a sharp blade. It could either fall on the sides or be cut up messily in the middle. Neither option was acceptable because the feather was worth a hundredfold more than any precious jewel.
The note that brought the news was plain, unadorned and the handwriting carved on it was painfully familiar. He picked up the small bit of black ribbon and its presence did not impact him as much as the faint powder wrapped in a small piece of muslin. He sniffed and he knew it was a smelling salt. One of the salts she always smelt faintly off.
He crushed a note in his palm as he remembered her assumptions about his character. Was he a saint or the cruel man Delilah had always seen when she had looked at him?
____________________________________
"I would appreciate it if you would cease your blatant staring," Delilah murmured flatly, her eyes firmly on her cousin who was still unconscious even though a considerable time had passed. She didn't need to look up because his eyes were gouging through her being as if he were a carpenter and she an untamed piece of wood. She did not want to show how anxious she was but he left her with no choice.
"I am merely curious," The man replied from his chair. Delilah was unaware for how long the man had sat and observed them. The only indicator of the passage of time was the large candle that had melted to about the fourth of its previous size. His eyes glittered against the stark shadows the candle light provided.
"Am I a foreign creature lacking a human face? No, then your curiosity is unfounded and pointless," Delilah rubbed her hands through the straw she was sitting on. She had been weary enough to fall asleep when the man had left the room earlier after he had a solitary lunch but she did not dare now. Not when he was perched on his chair with his attention so fully on her.
"You are so different. I imagine if Lady Jane were in your place I would have to sedate her; Damian's paramours are sickenly similar," The man downed a glass of sparkling liquid. His manners were refined and he handled the glass with delicate precision. His gestures reminded her so extremely of the Prince that she had to look away. She tried to focus on the gigantic cave or the stairs carved in the stone that led from an upper level that was more darkly lit or the lovely deep blue of the small, serene pond near the foot of the stairs.
"Would it comfort you if I were to weep?" Delilah answered carefully, "I am still and obedient because of the threat that looms over my cousin. Otherwise I do not fear you."
"Nerves of marble." Ferdinand placed his foot on the vacant chair opposite to his and leaned in nonchalantly, "I must congratulate Damian for sensing in you what others would not; could not."
"You will not meet him hence your anticipation is in vain," Delilah replied without inflection. She continued to smooth her cousin's hair hoping she could provide some comfort through the haze of unconsciousness.
"You think so less of him that you are convinced he will not come?"
"He is an honourable man but-"
"Honourable?" Ferdinand's eyebrows rose in amusement, "Funny, I have heard no woman describe him as such. Not even his dearest female companions. And he does have so many of them."
"Indeed he does," Delilah replied, not rising to the bait. For some reason the man wanted to increase her ire but it was only his attempts that were needling her and not his words.
"So, you do. Lady Jane was only one flower but there are so many in Damian's garden. Jemima Basque calls him dreadfully handsome, while Penelope likes to sing about his beautiful eyes and Lady Beatrix, tsk tsk, you should have seen his mood when she decided to marry."
"I have met Lady Bea and I know how disappointed he was in her choice of husband. I am not that behind Royal gossip," Delilah arched her eyebrow feeling this urge to win the ridiculous game he was trying to play with her head.
Instead of being thwarted Ferdinand's smiled beatifically. In the steady darkness of the cave his teeth and eyes gleamed. Delilah wanted to reply when a bizarre sound interrupt her train of thought. It sounded like the wind or a small bird but Delilah could not identify it definitively.
"You do have feelings for him," The man taunted mischievously gaining her attention again.
"What would you know about feelings," Delilah erupted hotly and caught herself. Her control was slipping; she was behaving like Cecilia and that was never a good sign.
"I am not the social butterfly Damian is. I like to observe and listen while he prattles on and on. There is much to learn in society when you keep your ears open instead of your lips," Ferdinand stood up with an air was of grave importance, "And wouldn't you like to know what I have learnt?"
"My ears are burning with curiosity," Delilah uttered with false calmness. Her hands were trembling with every single step he took towards her.
"People speak with their eyes and you can keep your mouth shut but I know what your heart contains. I fear Damian will never know what you feel for you him," Ferdinand crouched in front of her and for once Delilah could not look away. It was the feeling of being so stomped upon in her insides, "In fact I shall make sure he doesn't."
"Don't," She bit out.
"It is only the truth. Just like a bitter belladonna potion to swallow," His whispered ironically continuing the slow pacing that was making her dizzy.
"And what do you intend to do with us," Delilah used the wall as leverage to stand up. She was done feeling uncertain.
"I could crush your throat or I could mark you beyond repair. It is not like Damian will live long enough to enjoy your company." He cocked his head and his smirk transformed into a sneer, "What say you? Another rejection for Damian?"
Before she even realized what had happened she had slapped him soundly. Her hand stung at the contact and she pressed it to her other hand feeling like she should have done worse because his expression hadn't changed in the slightest.
Ferdinand took another step closer and slowly trailed one finger lightly over her cheek.
"This is intolerable behaviour," Delilah struggled against him as both his arms pulled her closer against him. He plucked her right hand from the front of his shirt and examined it like it was a delicate crystal piece.
"Of course," He spoke conversationally, "Oh, and I wonder what he will think of this?"
"Release me," Delilah urged feeling the anger bubble within her. She knew he had no designs on her. She was merely a pawn in his game to offend and enrage his cousin.
"I am afraid your request must be denied. I cannot deny the temptation. Damian's new bride to be, in my grasp, so helpless and vulnerable, imagine the possibilities," He whispered in her ear.
"You are a foul human being. You would go so low just so-," Delilah scowled.
"I might disgust you but look at it this way. I might let you live when I take over the Kingdom. You might even pretend I am your crown Prince," Ferdinand's laugh echoed against the confining walls of the cave.
Delilah could not stop, "You are nothing like him. He is kind and brave. I have great esteem for his character which you do not even have. He would give his life for the Kingdom."
"So true, but instead of his Kingdom he will give his life for you. Isn't that right, Damian?" Ferdinand looked up, triumphant, "I know you've been biding you time; staring at me in anger while I caress your precious Lady."
The Lady in question turned around in shock. It took a moment to find him but there he was standing against a pillar half hidden in shadows, "What are doing you here?" She asked inanely.
"Of course, I should have left you and Cecilia with this crazed lunatic," Damian cocked his head; the bitterness he was feeling had not left him entirely.
"I-" And after seeing him her face scrunched up in repressed emotion and a tear escaped her eyes. She had been so fervently hoping he would use his brains and realize this was a trap. She felt so overwhelmed by the anger and frustration that it was wonder she hadn't broken down already.
"There, there," Ferdinand mock soothed and let his finger once again trace down her pale face, tracking down a solitary tear. He now had an arm around her waist while she was pressed against his side.
"I will rip your heart and stomp on it if you touch her again," Damian threatened so calmly that she had trouble recognizing them man who walked out from the shadows and placed a foot on the first step.
Ferdinand pulled her closer, convinced he had won.
"You? You are a fool, dear Damian, nothing more than that. I have wanted you dead for years and you scarcely noticed."
"Forgive me for thinking my family did not contain murderous imbeciles," Damian replied as he took more steps downwards. His eyes were sizing up the situation because they did not seem capable of resting in one place though in the end he eyes came to rest on his cousin's hand, "This is a fight between us. You should not have involved anyone else."
"On the contrary, cousin, Lady Delilah became part of this the second you decided to woo her though you were not quite as successful in your wooing I hear," Ferdinand's smirk was evident in her voice.
"Please," Delilah uttered ineffectively struggling against her captor's tightening grip. She felt his stubble pressing against her face. Delilah could not see his expression but whatever it was it made Damian pull out his long sword from the baldric hanging across on his shoulder.
"So, it's a fight you are gagging for," Ferdinand hissed clenching his captive's waist convulsively, "Another step and I will wring her throat."
Damian ignored the warning.
