An interlude under stars and rain
The prince turned to her, a mischievous glint in his eye. “You’ve never felt the rain on your face, have you?”
Knowing exactly what he was getting at, Vanita shook her head, turning down a different path as though to escape the subject. “No, no I can’t.”
“It’s so dark, I can hardly see my feet below me,” Prince Ah lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper as he caught up to her. “No one will see you out here.”
She looked back to catch him grinning as though he already knew she’d give in. How did he always seem to know?
“You’ll see me,” Vanita insisted, though some part of her knew that her words presented a challenge rather than a rejection. She turned to face him fully. Though they were far from the lamps and chandeliers that illuminated every corner of the palace, the brilliance of the prince’s countenance was only slightly dimmed. The heat of his gaze still warmed her cheeks like a fireplace in winter.
One black-gloved hand lifted to the hem of her veil, pinned as it was under the substantial weight of her necklace. She pulled at the lace edging. Just to hold it against the night breeze, she told herself. “You’ll look back.”
Again, she shook her head. The prince could do better than the simple, obvious solutions. He had to if he was going to live near her for any length of time.
Prince Ah laughed, exasperated. He threw his head back, letting raindrops gather on his lips and eyelashes as Vanita watched and wondered how it would feel to join him. Her mind began to work at the issue like a tight knot. How much precaution would be enough? What amount of risk was she willing to bear to share that simple pleasure written so plainly across the prince’s face?