The Midnight Princess Ch. 02

This chapter will not have any sex. I'm sorry if that upsets you but my goal with this story is to write it like an actual erotic novel, where the sex is spaced out and anticipated. I hope you still enjoy! Comments would be highly appreciated as they help me improve my writing.

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Lilith's fingers trembled as she gathered her gown from the floor. She smoothed the skirts carefully, like performing a ritual. Anything to keep her hands busy. Anything to avoid looking at him. Even though the den was quiet, the tension in the air screamed. She caught her reflection in the polished surface of the metal basin near the hearth. Her cheeks flushed, hair tousled, lips still swollen from his mouth. She looked ruined, but in the best possible way. Across the den, Vesper sat on the edge of the stone platform, his elbows resting on his knees, head bowed, and his hands fidgeting. His eyes were shadowed beneath his dark lashes, his face a mask of unreadable silence. The firelight no longer touched him the way it had in the night. He looked colder now. Distant.

She swallowed hard, feeling the dryness in her throat as she prepared to speak. "I'm sorry," she said quietly. "I shouldn't have asked you..."

He didn't respond. Didn't even flinch.

Lilith's heart sank. She had hoped that he would say something. Offer a reason -- offer anything. When she turned to leave, the silence pressed against her back like a weight. She reached for her cloak, wrapping it around her shoulders before placing her gloves on her hands and stepping out into the cool morning air. The air carried the lingering scent of the earlier rain. Mist clung to the forest floor in silver ribbons. Somewhere, a raven cawed once, then fell silent. She hadn't taken more than a few steps before she heard him move behind her--quiet as shadow, but impossible to ignore. She didn't turn until he came up beside her, and she gasped softly when his large hand reached out to steady her as she neared the mare.

Without speaking, Vesper placed both hands at her waist and lifted her effortlessly onto the saddle. The touch sent a shiver through her, even now. He lingered for a heartbeat too long before stepping back. She looked down at him, searching for something in his eyes to tell her he didn't hate her. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes betrayed him, burning with restraint. With everything he wasn't saying. Lilith's breath caught in her throat. "If you don't want me to come back," she whispered, "I'll listen. I'll honor it this time." He said nothing. Her fingers tightened around the reins. "But I need you to know something... even if you don't want to hear it." Her voice broke. "I love you."

She didn't expect him to say it back. But part of her... some small, foolish part... had hoped.

Vesper's jaw clenched. His eyes dropped to the forest floor. His breath hitched, as if the words had struck him like a blow, but no words came. Lilith nodded, blinking back tears. That was answer enough. She clicked her tongue gently and guided her reins to turn the mare beneath her. As distance grew between them, Lilith allowed the tears to fall down her cheeks. The forest swallowed her whole, and she didn't look back.

If he didn't want her, then she would stay away.

Even if her heart never could.

*****

Vesper stood alone, his breath steaming in the cold morning air as he watched the shape of her slowly vanish between the trees. Even when the last echo of her mare's hooves faded into silence, he didn't move. Only when the forest was empty again--truly, agonizingly empty--did he exhale. A long, shuddering breath that came out more like a growl than a sigh. His hands were still curled into fists, claws fully extended and trembling at his sides. His body was aching with restraint that he no longer had any reason to keep. His jaw throbbed from how tightly he had been grinding it. His throat stung with the words he had swallowed.

I love you too.

The words echoed in his skull like a curse. Mocking him and tearing him open. But he couldn't say it. Because if he had, she wouldn't have left. If she had stayed, he would've ruined her completely. He turned and stormed back into the den with a sudden, violent energy. Every part of him was snarling at the silence she left behind. Her scent still clung to the furs. Her warmth still lingered on the stone. His mouth still tasted her. His mind still replayed what happened over and over. The way she had arched beneath his mouth. The way her voice had cracked when she moaned his name. The way she had looked at him --- not like a monster, but like he was hers --- and gods, he wanted to keep her.

He had wanted to reach for her, drag her off that horse, pull her back into the den, and never let her leave again. He had wanted to cover her with his body, wrap himself around her, and tell her that he loved her too. That he had from the moment he saw her. Vesper lashed out, flinging the table against the stone with a sharp crack. The fire had nearly died, but he threw a log onto it anyway, needing flame, noise, just something to burn before he did.

He paced, wild-eyed, chest heaving, thoughts spiraling. He closed his eyes, his jaw tight with restraint as the memory flooded him again. She had been so soft, so sweet beneath him. She hadn't known what she was doing, how she made him want to lose himself in her. Claim her. Ruin her for anyone else. But she'd begged him. Whispered "please" like a prayer. And gods help him, he had given her what she asked for, even if it was just a taste.

That nearly destroyed him. He'd almost taken more. Almost gone too far. It would be so easy to justify it. To believe that she wanted it. To make her want to come back again, and next time, he could finish what they started. But that would make him everything she didn't believe he was. She trusted him, even though her trust was something he hadn't even earned. Something he continued to break. Vesper dropped his head forward as he braced his hands on the wall, his breath coming hard and slow through clenched teeth.

This was for the best, he thought to himself. Keeping her away and whole was the only thing he could do for her, because there were things she knew, and things she didn't. Truths no one had told her. Dangers he couldn't explain without dragging her deeper into them. The more time she spent in his world, the more she risked losing everything. Even if he loved her and needed her like air... she was safer without him.

But gods, he missed her already.

*****

The castle loomed in the distance, its pale towers just beginning to catch the blush of dawn. Lilith dismounted just beyond the outer wall and led her mare down the narrow path to the side stables nestled near the servants' courtyard. The air was cool and damp, the scent of wet hay and fresh earth clinging to the mist. As she approached the gate, the stable door creaked open, and Tomas, the young stable boy, appeared, leading a chestnut beauty out to the training grounds.

He straightened instantly as he stood in front of her. "Morning, Your Highness," he said with a gentle smile, voice quiet and respectful. "You're back early." Lilith returned his smile faintly, brushing her windblown hair from her face. "Good morning, Tomas." He didn't ask where she'd been. He never did. He simply stepped aside and held the stable door open, pretending not to notice the mud on her hem or the shadows under her eyes. She led her mare inside and began the familiar routine of removing the saddle, brushing down her coat, and wiping the damp from her flanks. The steady motions soothed her hands, even if they did nothing to calm the ache in her chest.

"Good girl, Midnight," she murmured to the mare, her voice soft and low. She pulled a sugar cube from her cloak pocket, offering it up. Midnight took it eagerly and snorted against her palm. Lilith lingered for a moment longer and smiled as she rested her forehead against the horse's shoulder. Then she turned and slipped out the rear door, heading toward the servants' corridors, which were already humming with early chores and footsteps. She had just enough time to reach her chambers before the rest of the palace awoke.

Lilith moved quickly and quietly through the narrow stone corridor that connected the stables to the servants' wing. The typical morning noises filled the halls: laughter, clattering pans, fast-paced footsteps, the start of another ordinary day. To Lilith, every sound was now distant and disconnected. She clutched her cloak tight around her shoulders as she passed through the cold hallway, her footsteps soft on the worn flagstones. The oil lamps on the wall cast flickering pools of golden light, and the arched windows glowed faintly with the first light of dawn. No one saw her or stopped her, but even in solitude, the silence pulled at her like weights around her ankles.

The scent of Vesper's den still clung to her skin, teasing her nose with smells of smoke, pine and the faint, lingering warmth of his body. She climbed the back stairwell, pausing midway on the landing to look at a small alcove in the wall. It held an old stone statue of the holy mother -- her eyes downcast, her hands pressed together in prayer. Lilith stared for just a moment. I told him I'd stay away, she thought to herself. I will keep my promise. But her heart thudded painfully, knowing she wasn't telling the truth. She continued up the stairs, then turned down the eastern wing -- her wing.

These halls were quieter and much more elegant. Tapestries lined the walls, and tall windows spilled pale light across polished floors. She reached her chamber door and pressed her hand to the wood, exhaling a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. Then, silently, she slipped inside. She carefully closed the door behind her with a soft click. The heavy curtains were still drawn, and the hearth had burned low, leaving only a faint orange glow amongst the coals. Everything was just as she had left it the evening prior, yet it felt off. Too still. Too empty.

She crossed the room with urgency, unfastening her cloak and tossing it over the back of her velvet chair. Her fingers worked quickly to undo the clasps of her gown as she clumsily kicked off her boots. Her body ached with every movement, a reminder of what had passed between her and Vesper, and what she would never get to experience again. She stepped out of her gown and removed her gloves, tossing them in the same velvet chair as her cloak. Her shift followed, and she felt the cool air against her bare skin as she crossed to the small washbasin. She splashed water on her face and neck, wiping away the sweat and forest scent.

Her reflection in the mirror caught her off guard. She looked the same -- beautiful pale skin, long lashes, long raven hair that fell loose over her shoulders -- but her eyes were not the same. They held sorrow. Grief for what she had lost. She closed her eyes as she softly ran her fingers over her swollen, bruised lips, remembering the cause. Her breathing became heavy and that dull ache in her belly returned. She was quickly jolted back to reality as she heard footsteps ascending the stairs to her wing.

Quickly, she ran to grab the soft, ivory nightgown that was folded at the foot of her bed. The familiar cotton whispered over her skin as she slipped into it, letting the hem fall to her ankles. She crawled under her covers and settled beneath them just as a gentle knock came at the door.

"Your Highness?" a sweet elderly voice sang as the door opened. In walked Agnes, like she did every morning, with a tray of hot tea and honey bread. Her small stature moved fast for someone her age. Her grey hair was pinned in a braided bun with shorter pieces framing her face. Her face was worn with fine lines and sun-darkened from years of loyal service. Lilith rose onto an elbow, offering a faint smile to her. Agnes paused just before reaching the desk. "Well now," she said with a soft chuckle. "Back before sunrise and already pretending to sleep. Soon you will have the sun jealous of your discipline." She gave a quick glance to Lilith before turning and setting the tray down.

"I'm sorry, Anges," Lilith replied, her voice heavy from the sudden punch of exhaustion -- and something else she didn't dare to say out loud. Agnes raised a skeptical brow as she walked to the hearth to add more coals. She stoked the embers into rising flames before walking over to the window and drawing back the heavy curtains. The morning light hurt Lilith's eyes, and she raised her hand to cover them.

"You haven't been sleeping well for weeks," Agnes said over her shoulder. "Dark circles under your eyes, missing meals, wearing out that poor mare of yours." She turned back to retrieve the cup of tea she had left on the tray. "A princess needs her beauty rest," she said as she held the tea platter in one hand and adjusted her skirts with the other before she sat beside Lilith. She raised the cup to Lilith's mouth, who blew on the hot drink before taking a small sip. "Whatever peace you think you're chasing out there on those trails behind the palace," Agnes continued, "I'm not convinced you're finding it."

"I'm fine, Agnes," Lilith lied. Agnes sighed as she placed her tea on the bedside table before standing back up, her eyes snapping to the hem of Lilith's riding cloak, observing the smear of dried mud along the seam.

Agnes tutted under her breath as she walked over to the chair and picked up the garment. "You'll ruin this if you don't hang this properly. And what's this? You went out in your new boots again, didn't you?" Her tone became serious and motherly as she picked up the gown from the floor. "You're going to have half of the seamstresses cursing your name, young lady." Lilith flushed and pulled the covers further up her body, as if to cover the rest of her mental dirtiness.

"I'll be more careful," Lilith murmured.

"You'll be lucky if I don't start locking away your wardrobe and only giving you a potato sack to wear." Agnes returned to the bedside, smoothing a hand over Lilith's covers. Lilith said nothing, her eyes distant and deep in thought. Her hands curled under the blanket as she remembered stronger hands... warmer skin. Agnes sighed and leaned down to kiss Lilith on the top of her head. " At least eat something after you are dressed. You need strength if you're going to keep running from your dreams."

"I'm not running," Lilith whispered. But even to her own ears, the lie sounded insincere. Agnes said no more on the matter as she turned to choose a nice, clean gown for Lilith to wear.

"Your father will be waiting for you at prayer. Let's not keep him waiting." With that, Lilith rose from her bed, rubbing her tired eyes as she walked over to retrieve a piece of honey bread off the tray. Her door opened, and two younger handmaidens entered, their hands clasped in front of their waists. "Good morning, Your Highness," they both said with a smile while giving a curtsy.

The sun had risen fully by the time Lilith sat at her vanity. Her nightgown was exchanged for a pale blue gown of silk and lace. Agnes had made sure Lilith's hair was carefully brushed and braided before departing to oversee other servants completing their morning chores. The open window blew cool air against her skin as one of her handmaidens, Elise, knelt before her with a silver jar of balm, and carefully smoothed it over Lilith's legs. Lilith winced, causing Elise to freeze. "I'm sorry, your Highness... did I rub too hard?"

"No," Lilith replied quickly as she forced a smile. "Just... sensitive skin."

Elise's brow drew together, concern creeping in as she inspected closer. "These are... faint marks," she commented to herself, her fingers lightly brushing against the inside of Lilith's thigh. Lilith jumped as she heard a gasp. "And these scratches!" Elise continued. "Did you fall during one of your rides?" Lilith's breath caught. For the briefest moment, Vesper's hands were on her again -- firm, possessive, and reverent. His mouth was between her thighs, and her body was trembling beneath his. Her cheeks flushed as she shook the memory off.

"I think I pressed too hard against the saddle," she lied, while reaching for another piece of honey bread. "The trails were muddy from the rain. It wasn't a graceful ride."

Elise nodded, accepting the explanation so easily. "Shall I send for a poultice, your Highness?"

"No," Lilith said. "They will fade." She rose from her seat, smoothing her skirts and straightening her shoulders as the chapel bells tolled faintly through the corridor windows. "Thank you, ladies," Lilith said with a smile. Elise and the other handmaiden rose, lowering their gaze as they curtsied before the princess.

"I will see you after morning prayer, Your Highness," Elise said before departing Lilith's chambers and closing the door. Lilith took another look at herself in the mirror. Her exhaustion was perfectly hidden by powder and potted paint, and honey was applied to help soothe her swollen, bruised lips. To any outsider, she looked immaculate. Exactly the way a princess should. She stepped out into the corridor, the hem of her gown gliding soundlessly across the floor. Colorful light spilled through stained glass windows and cast fractured patterns across the pale stone as she passed. Each step echoed a bit too loudly in the quiet.

As she reached the doors to the chapel, a pair of guards opened them, being sure to stand erect with their eyes forward as Lilith walked closer. "Good morning," she said softly as she walked past. Inside, the priest's voice droned softly as the morning prayers began. Incense curled through the air in thin wisps and mingled with the faint scent of old wood and melting wax candles. She walked down the aisle with slow, careful steps as she once again admired the beautiful architecture. The walls were carved of pale stone and the same stained glass that led her to the chapel entrance. Various statues of angels, saints, and crosses lined the walls, leading to a muted painting of the Savior nailed to the cross. His feet flickered with the light of lit candles underneath.

When she reached the front pew, she saw her father knelt down in prayer -- head bowed, hands folded, and regal even in stillness. Lilith knelt beside him, her skirts pooling quietly around her as she straightened her spine and lowered her chin in reverence. King Borat glanced at her from the corner of his eye, a small smile flickering. "You're glowing this morning," he murmured, voice low so the priests wouldn't hear.

Lilith inhaled deeply as she tried to hide the smile that was forming on her lips. "Thank you, father," she whispered back. The priest's voice began to echo through the room. Lilith closed her eyes, but all she could feel was that ache between her legs. The priest's voice grew louder as he began the final recitation. As others whispered their amens, Lilith only thought of Vesper. The weight of his body on hers, his masculine scent, his hands on hers... the sound of his voice when it broke. Finally, the terrible ache in her chest when she rode away. She had told herself she did the right thing, and she forced herself to believe it to be true.

But even here, underneath the watchful eye of saints and kings, her soul was pining to return to him.

As the end of the final blessing echoed through the chapel, Lilith kept her eyes closed a moment longer than necessary, breathing in the smell of Myrrh and Frankincense and willing her heart to quiet. When she opened them, the priest had stepped away from the altar. The few courtiers and attendants present began to rise. Her father remained kneeling as he finished his own personal prayer before he stood, his movements calm and measured. He turned to her and extended a hand, which Lilith took gladly. She rose to her feet as she smiled up at him.

"You know," he began as he led her out of the pew and back into the light of the castle halls. "Your mother used to sit right there with you in her arms."

Lilith blinked, caught off guard. "She did?"

He nodded while glancing toward the marble altar. "You were just a baby. You had the loudest cry I'd ever heard." A smile touched his lips, faint but warm. "But the moment she held you to her chest, you went silent. Like she carried all the peace in the world just for you." Lilith's breath caught, a lump forming in her throat. "She would sing to you," he continued. "Not the court lullabies, but the old songs. Songs her mother taught her. You'd cling to her fingers in your sleep."

"I don't remember any of it," Lilith whispered.

"I know," he said gently as he stopped to brush a curl from her cheek. "But I do. And I see pieces of her in you every day. Especially in those beautiful violet eyes." Her gaze dropped to the polished floor as tears threatened to rise. She had clung to stories like that for as long as she could remember, for they were echoes of a woman she never truly knew. Each one felt like a thread, frayed but precious. A connection to a mother who lived in memories, in soft scents and faded lullabies, never in touch or voice.

"I miss her," Lilith said, the words escaping before she could stop them.

"I know," her father murmured. "So do I."

There was silence for a beat too long, then he cleared his throat and gave a smile that was more practiced than the one before. "Come," he said. "Walk with me. Then I'll let you escape to your lessons." She took his arm again, and they moved through the wide corridor, his broad frame beside her slender one. When they reached the fork between the council wing and the west wing, he gave her hand one last squeeze. "Be kind to your tutor today."

"I always am," Lilith replied, managing a playful lift of her brow.

"That's my girl," he muttered with a small grin, then turned and disappeared down the hall.

Lilith lingered a moment, watching him go. Then she turned and walked slowly toward the west wing, where scrolls, ink, and duty awaited.

*****

The forest was too quiet.

Vesper crouched beside the river, still as stone, the flow of the current licking at his calves. Morning had passed, but he hadn't moved. Not since she left him alone in the den. Her scent still clung to his skin, light and warm, threaded with wildflowers and rain. It lingered like a ghost. His muscles ached. Not from pain, but from pressure. From something ancient stirring beneath his flesh, pacing in circles inside his chest. The full moon was drawing near. He could feel it in his bones, in the prickle of his skin, in the way the wind carried too many sounds at once.

His breath came heavier with each minute. Something in him, something deep, old, and hungry, had begun to unravel in him the moment she left. It wasn't about desire. It wasn't even about love. It was about the quiet she had brought with her. It had silenced the thing inside him. The beast that growled at shadows and clawed against the inside of his ribs when the moon swelled full in the sky.

She hadn't tamed it. But for the first time in years... she had made it pause. Now, it was pacing again. Restless. Starving. Lonely.

He could feel the shift building under his skin. His spine ached. His senses had sharpened painfully. Every crack of a branch or flutter of a bird's wings made his ears twitch. He rose from the riverbank and began to pace, each step heavy, controlled only by willpower he felt slipping. The forest blurred around him, vibrant and oppressive. The sky overhead mocked him with its stillness. He wanted to run. To tear through the trees. To surrender to the beast and let it burn itself out.

But he couldn't.

He gritted his teeth and shoved his hands into the cold water again, holding them there until his fingers were numb. It grounded him. The wind shifted, and for just a moment, it carried her scent again. His breath caught and the beast stilled... for a moment.

Then it growled louder.

Vesper closed his eyes as he heard the sound of his pulse thunder in his ears. It wasn't just the moon pulling at him this time. It was the need to be with her. And the thing inside him, untamed and unwanted, missed her more than he dared to admit.