Incredulous, I looked back towards Father, my jaw widening. “Since when do you take students? When I asked you to teach me how to paint as a kid, you told me teaching would never be in your future. You lacked the patience for it.”
Father looked almost chagrined. Mother flushed as she looked away.
“Bea…” She began. “He told you that because the only thing you could draw at fifteen was stick figures. He got sick of giving you suggestions only to have your skills worsen.”
Laughter bubbled out of the stranger, and I grimaced. I barely held myself back from snapping at him about his artistic talents, realizing that if he was requesting lessons from Father, he was probably pretty good.
Father shook his head as he approached the man, offering a firm handshake, which the man returned in stride. Father pat his back as though he were a long-lost friend before he turned back towards me.
“This man,” he said, “will be staying with us until his lessons are completed.”
“I’m sorry?” I asked. “Why can’t he host us? Our house is cramped enough already.” That wasn’t strictly true; although our house was the size of Shao’s parlor, it was still more than spacious enough for the three of us.
Yet I felt a glaring annoyance that some strange man would be infringing on my family’s haven, which was worsened by the fact that Father hadn’t seen it fit to tell me until the stranger had arrived, let alone consult it with me or Connie.
“Bea—” The man began, my name slipping out of him as smoothly as butter before he caught himself, and I gaped up at him. At the familiarity with which he spoke.
At the faint but strangely, deliciously nostalgic accent and gentleness that coated his words.
“Shao.” The name left my lips before I could catch them, and my eyes widened with wonder. “Impossible.”
Shao sighed as he brushed away a stray strand of his hair, then reached out to cup my cheek as though that was the most natural action in the world. “I wasn’t expecting you to catch me so fast,” he admitted.
My parents cleared their throat, their nasal tones stretching out for at least three seconds, and we glanced away from each other, faces flushed from embarrassment and shame. Twinkling filled our ears when they stopped from Connie’s giggles.
“I thought you were lying about returning,” Connie said, tossing her hair back, and Shao returned a rueful grin.
My eyes were captivated by him. I memorized every single feature of his face even though he was covered by an illusion. At the same time, I felt embarrassed by how enraptured I was. He hadn’t sent me a single letter, and I… I still didn’t know how he even felt about me.
His appearance, however, kindled some hope into me. If he’d made the effort to come here—and even offer to stay here for however long it took for him to take lessons from Father—did that… could that mean he cared about me, at least a little? At least as a friend?
My heart panged at the idea of being only a friend to him, and yet it was better than being irrelevant and forgotten.
“My parents put me on lockdown,” he explained. “Mother hired a witch to remove my raven’s enchantment, and she put me under close watch of guards in case I ran away to find Beatrice again. She wanted to invite you guys over, but Father opposed it, and…”
Shao shrugged and grimaced, but I could tell he felt a bit happy, too, at the attention his parents were belatedly giving him. I groaned.
“You should’ve sent me a letter explaining everything,” I said, and he squeezed my hand.
“I wanted to. I tried, I really did, but I was under constant surveillance, and I wasn’t allowed to send mail to anyone in case I got someone to help me escape.” Again, he looked chagrined and pleased at the same time, and I laughed.
“So how did you get here?” I asked. “Did your parents—”
Shao chuckled at that. The sound was melodious and hopeful and so, so sweet, although his next words… won’t. “Nah. I ran away.”
Confusion poisoned my features. “I’m… Um, I’m sorry?”
He smirked. “You heard me. I ran.”
“Um…” I quirked a brow but said nothing. I wanted to come up with some witty repartee, but… what the heck was I supposed to say to that?
“I missed you, Beatrice,” he said, and I wanted to sing in joy. “I had opportunity to flee—and I didn’t know when I’d get the chance again. Both the guards in watch over me that night were sympathetic, you see… although I have high suspicions they were bribed onto my side by Isabella. I scrawled my letters to you and your Father right then and escaped through the window for my life.”
A strangled laugh escaped my throat, although it ended abruptly at another sound of a clearing throat—this time, Connie’s.
Making a face, I turned to her. She schooled her expression into an angelic smile as she whistled innocently. A part of me wanted to smack her with the closest object, which happened to be a slipper, but… Shao was here.
Shao!
“Wait,” I said, narrowing my eyes. “So, are more guards going to come here and threaten to imprison me unless we return you?”
Shao laughed as if this weren’t a life-or-death matter for my family. “Of course not,” he said. “They don’t know who you are, and even if they did, they couldn’t lay a finger on you or anyone important to you. My siblings and I saw to that. All they know is that you exist—and that I’m madly in love with you.”
I choked out a sputtering cough and incoherent series of words at his confession, and he had the audacity to look casually pleased. As if he gave out confessions of love to women often, and today was just another day.
I wasn’t the only person to be shocked; my sister acted similarly, although my parents were suspiciously lacking in reaction. I twisted back to them, frowning.
“Why aren’t you guys surprised?” I asked, and Father rummaged through the pockets of his worn trousers, which were adorned by never-ending flecks of paint, for another slim slip of paper. He handed it to me.
“I received this in the mail today,” he explained. “It didn’t give me the option to refuse, but I couldn’t have, since…” He gestured towards the letter as if that’d explain everything, so I knit my brows as I glanced down to read it.
In the same inky, sloppy scrawls I’d read before, the letter said: want art lessons and boarding. Lump sum of 230,241 coins as payment. Love your daughter. Would like to speak with you when I can. Sorry for rushed letter. No time. Running away. Shao.
I gasped at the payment offer; it was… it was so much, and so specific. The value felt achingly familiar. It took me a moment to process why.
I burst into laughter that may as well have been sobs without tears, although I was happy. Unbelievably, undeservingly elated.
“That’s the exact amount left of our debt,” I said. Father nodded and chuckled.
“Listen, Beatrice,” he said. “You are my daughter, and I love you very, very much, but you’re nothing compared to over two hundred grand.”
I snarled at him, although I couldn’t remove the Cheshire-cat grin that stretched to my ears. Despite his words, Father had been both incredibly anxious for me… and hopeful.
Because he knew about my feelings for Shao, although I’d struggled to hide it.
I felt so silly. How could I be placated so easily? But I felt the warmth of Shao besides me, and I couldn’t restrain my feelings.
Glancing back at the peanut gallery, I saw expressions that ranged between sparkling eyes of amusement and feigned irritation. My mother even had her hands to her heart, and she looked like she was swooning. What was Shao and I to her, a romantic comedy play? I sighed.
“Come on, Shao,” I grit out through my teeth. “Could I steal you for a second? My family is the worst.” I drew out the last word for emphasis, but no one seemed to care. Curse the lot of them.
“Anything for you,” he said, and as cheesy as the line was, I couldn’t help but melt.
Chapter 30
Mo
onlight cast a soft glow to the streets. The faint echoes of hooting owls and rustling leaves accentuated our footsteps and voices as Shao and I walked away from my home, side by side.
The houses around us were small but ornate, quaint, and clean, and the scent of lavenders and tulips tickled our senses. My new townsfolk were big on aesthetics if nothing else, caring to make the designs of the plants and buildings impeccably beautiful even if it was otherwise unassuming.
We twisted past several paths made by chiseled pebble which had been painted over into an endless rainbow bridge. Although many years had passed since I’d last lived here, I knew all the pathways and shortcuts like the back of my hand.
“Where are we going?” Shao asked, and I laughed at a twinkling realization. For the first time since we’d met, I was leading Shao around, rather than the vice versa.
“You’ll see,” I replied, giving him a shy wink as I sped up my pace. Shao hastened so that he’d be beside me again. Our hands lingered near each other’s, and sparks flew at our almost-touch; I considered closing the distance and holding his hand, but something about it felt… so intimate, even more so than our kiss had been.
I took in a deep breath as we continued to walk, smiling as the scent of grass and trees waned and the flowery, fruity smells grew stronger. Fruit trees of various sizes and shapes surrounded us, draping over us as an archway of sugar, branches, and prismatic-colored leaves.
“We’re here,” I said, pointing forward as we twisted past a thick wall of leaves and flowers. Immediately, we were engulfed by its sweet, honeysuckle scent, and I closed my eyes as I took a big inhale.
Before us was a dome-shaped maple-wood pavilion, which had been painted over with golden hues with flecks of rose-red. Grapevines, honeysuckles, and hydrangeas crept up each of the supporting pillars, erupting into a pool of gardenias and roses that blossomed on the top and bottom of the roof.
I tugged Shao into the pavilion, wanting him to smell it from closer—and to see all the ornate decorations from within. The floor was a tiling wood of various types and colors, and the two benches overlooking the garden were also a patchwork of vines and various woods.
There was a stump of a tree in the center of the pavilion, ornate with several rings and the names of numerous visiting couples scratched into the sides.
When we were under the pavilion’s roof, I remembered my hesitation from earlier as to holding his hand, and I blushed furiously.
However, I did not let go.
I sat down onto one of the two benches overlooking the garden, not caring to brush my dress down first, and Shao sat with me with twinkling eyes.
“Is this the place you wanted to show me?” He asked, and I huffed.
“Do you even have to ask?” I replied, then pointed at him indignantly. “Don’t think I forgot you laughed at me when Father insulted my paintings. How hypocritical of you. I never laughed at your childhood paintings.”
“Because they were good, weren’t they?” Shao said. I rolled my eyes. “Considering how young I was when I drew them—”
“That’s no excuse,” I said. “It’s not like you’ve improved any since then. Really, speaking of excuses, couldn’t you have come up with a better one than learning how to paint? You’ve never shown any interest in it in the months we spent together, and I’ve never so much as seen a paintbrush around.”
Shao shrugged. He lips quirked into a grin that made me smile, too, despite myself—or perhaps I’d already been smiling to begin with. “I was desperate for any reason to spend time with you, logical or not.”
I licked my lips, heat crawling back up to my cheeks, and he gave a light chuckle as he reached forward ever so slowly, as though any rushed movement would break the spell between us. As if he’d blink and I wouldn’t be here anymore.
I felt the same way.
His hand landed softly, gently against my cheek into a caress that warmed me to my soul.
“I missed you,” he said. “Missing you was like losing my soul. You took a piece of me with you when you left.”
I shook my head. This entire situation was as saccharine as the best of dreams because… it was one. It would be fleeting and filled with blossoming regrets.
Taking Shao’s lifted hand in mine, I said, “Don’t you want to be a king?”
Shao averted his gaze, and I knew I was right. Although it was a mere confirmation of something I already knew, I felt a thousand pounds of lead weigh down on my heart at his silent affirmation.
“I swear, if you tell me you gave it up for my sake—” I started, and Shao’s jaw tensed as he laughed sadly.
“No, don’t worry. It had nothing to do with you,” he said, and I hated that I felt a pang of disappointment—truly, I felt crushed and humiliated—at those words. I was selfish and proud. Those traits were a part of me, although they were shameful, and perhaps they’d accompany me for the rest of my life.
“I’ve spent far too long in the mansion to rule Perintas,” he continued. “The nobles are wary of me. The commoners have forgotten me. I’ll be judged and undermined from both sides if I try to rule here.”
I tilted my head. My hand remained on Shao’s, pushing it against my cheek so he’d stay touching me. There was something about the way he’d said it that bothered me, although I couldn’t place it. With narrowing eyes, I looked at Shao, but he said nothing—out loud. There was something in the depths of his eyes that whispered: guilty.
“You can still rule another kingdom, can’t you?” I asked several beats later, and from the way his hand twitched against mine, I knew once again that I was correct. “You can be king consort, and in most countries nearby, that’s as good as being a king by birth.”
“I have you,” Shao said, his voice firm and husky.
“You know this is temporary,” I replied, and I could have wept at the finality of my own words. There was no doubt in my mind that I was right, and Shao knew it, too. “Your parents will find you. Your siblings will miss you. They’ll take you home, and they’ll expect you to stay.”
“By then,” he said, “I’ll have ensured my parents approve of you, whether they like it or not. I will spend the rest of my life with you, as long as you’ll have me, Beatrice. Will you?” His eyes snapped to mine, and my heart thundered in my chest. I licked my lips.
“I expect a little more effort for a proposal,” I replied with a shaky, forced laugh.
I wanted to cry because there was nothing I wanted more than to spend the rest of my life with him. Desperately, so desperately, I wanted to grow old with him. To monopolize him until the end of our days.
But I couldn’t.
I simply couldn’t, not with our difference in status and wealth and aspirations.
I wanted a small life in the countryside—or even here, at home, where my parents and Constance would be—healing others and making a comfortable but plain life for myself. Even if Shao didn’t become a king, he’d remain a prince, and he would shake my life upside down in a way I didn’t know if I could handle.
And, most of all… I wanted the best for Shao.
If he wanted to be a king, he had to become one. I couldn’t drag him down and make him suffer a life of obscurity and loneliness that would only remind him of his time at the mansion. Pleading and praying that one day, he could be free. That he could make a difference. Rule. Serve his people.
“I’ll remember that for next time,” Shao replied with a wink that conveyed a carelessness I wished I felt. I didn’t think he felt it, either, from the way he was still shaking. He was faking it. Being brave for my sake. “Before I proposed officially, I wanted to make sure you would be alright with it. Alright with me. That you’d consider someone like me.”
“What are you talking about?” I laughed, unable to handle my fears and doubts. “If anything, I’m undeserving of you—”
“You can’t believe that,” Shao replied. “I’ve made you fear so much. I should have filled your heart with joy and blessings and hope, but ins
tead, I’ve only made you doubt me and my feelings for you.”
Shao lifted my hand, then kissed its back. “I’m sorry I was gone for so long—and I’m sorry I made you fear that I’d used you. Truly, I am. But I’m here now—so will you allow me to prove that I love you by staying and courting you? I understand if you can’t forgive me right away, but now that my curse has been cured, I have nothing to gain other than you.”
“Th-there’s nothing to forgive,” I replied, because the wounds in my heart had been inflicted by me and my incessant thoughts more than by any of his actions. “And it’s not like I can kick you out when you’re paying so much, right?” I joked, then mulled over my own words.
“I’m scared, Shao,” I finally admitted. “I’m scared you’ll give up the crown only to realize that’s what you need for your life to feel fulfilled. I’m scared that one day after we’ve pledged ourselves to each other that you’ll regret it. Regret me.”
“That could never happen,” Shao said. “A kingdom is worthless if you aren’t my queen. Nothing matters without you.”
I gulped and it felt like metal balls were caught in my throat. Sucking at my teeth, I considered a thousand words, a million questions, but settled on changing the subject like the coward I was.
Scooting closer to him despite myself, I pointed up at the stars. “Mother used to be obsessed with constellations,” I said, and Shao arched a brow at my blatant avoidance of the previous topic. Saying nothing, he gestured me to continue. “For years, Constance and I sat here every night, listening to Mother name the constellations and tell their tales. We loved it.”
Exhaling, I moved my hand around, pointing at different constellations as I stopped to name them. “Atlia the great warrior. Lorenti and Tristechi, the bloodthirsty twins.”
My finger drifted to the largest, brightest constellation: a pair of lovebirds formed by a series of two sticks leaning on each other. There, it lingered.
A Kiss like Roses: Fairy Tale Synergy Book 1 Page 24
