that would lead out of the gardens, not bothering to shield myself in shadow. I looked like a lowly gardener now, I would arouse no suspicion if I was caught.
“Male!” Her voice, it stopped me dead.
My pulse was a living, wild thing in my chest. I kept walking, thinking she surely wasn’t speaking to me.
But then I heard the rush of footsteps, and a second later, a small, warm hand latched onto my elbow. Turning me around.
I could have resisted her touch, but I did not want to.
I looked upon her beautiful face with my heart in my eyes, unable to shield myself from her even a moment longer.
She blinked, shook her head, and then said, “Who are you? Why have I never seen you here before?”
I wanted to touch her.
I wanted to pull her onto my lap, I wanted her to hold me, and then I wanted to bury my nose in her neck and simply be. I wanted her peace to be mine. I wanted her.
I swallowed hard.
“This…this is a castle of hundreds, milady.”
“Yes,” she said softly, kindly, “and I know every one of them. So again, I ask, who are you and why have you come here?”
She released me and my soul wept. Touch me more. Touch me everywhere. But I dared never say those words aloud.
I shook my head. “I…I am come to”—see you— “organize a festival, in honor of the great goddess Aphrodite.”
My soul began to splinter. It was the truth, but not the full truth. And judging by the unsure glitter in her eyes, she knew it too.
“What festival? I’ve never heard of such?”
“I am a simple oracle, ma’am. But I was sent by the goddess herself to see that in three days’ time your people would receive her in grand fashion.”
“Aphrodite’s oracles are females. Who are you really?” There was curiosity in her tone, but not malice. Not anger.
She was so gentle, my Psyche. So sweet. Too sweet for this cruel and contemptuous world.
I knew I should not do it. I knew I should not touch her. But for too long I’d been watching her sorrow play out before me, I’d seen the destruction of mother’s hatred already ruining her life and my heart ached.
This was not right. It was not fair.
So softly, so gently, I traced the line of her cheekbone with my thumb, pressing down just a little as I followed the natural curve and dip toward her chin. I rested my thumb just beneath the pout of her lower lip. She sucked in a sharp breath.
It would be nothing to press my lips to hers. Nothing. I wet my mouth and as though she sensed my thoughts, she did to hers as well.
“I know you,” she whispered. “I do not know how I know you, but we’ve met before. Haven’t we?”
Yes. And you’ve pierced my soul like a dagger. Those words could never pass my lips, but I thought them with every fiber of my being toward her.
Her small hand gripped my wrist. “Am I ugly to you?” she asked and my nostrils flared, a ball of heat trapped itself in the back of my throat.
Tomorrow I would make sure never to be caught by her again. Tomorrow I would keep my distance and guard my heart, but tonight…tonight I was just so damned tired.
“Am I ugly to you, little swan?” I asked her instead.
She frowned and then she scrutinized my face, before a small smile graced the corners of her velvety pink lips.
“I like your looks very much, sir.”
I shook my head. “But I am ugly, little swan. In my heart, I am the ugliest male you’ll ever know.”
She shook her head. “I do not believe that.”
“You do not know me.”
“Oh, but I think I do. Somehow, I know we’ve met before. You are as beautiful as I once was. I see it. I see you, deep in you. I see your heart and it is a rare soul that stares back at me.”
My chest heaved, and I wasn’t sure when I’d done it, but I was swaying, so close to her now that I could smell the perfume lacing her taut skin. Though it was not I that fused our mouths together first, but she.
And it was like a beast unleashed in me.
I gripped her hips tight, pulling her firmly into my body and kissed her with the passion of a novice. I knew I was doing it all wrong. Our teeth were knocking, and our noses pressed