A Strand of Gold
Rhea had been the one to make the first move, bold as it was — but in an instant, he had stolen the lead from her.
"Nngh..."
She couldn't overpower the arms locked around her, and she could barely keep pace with the relentless press of his mouth. Each time she ran out of breath, he would break away, only to change the angle and claim her lips again.
"Hah... haah..."
Their breaths tangled, hot and frantic, mouths sliding wetly against each other. Carion savored the silk of her blonde hair wound around his fingers as he stroked the slender column of her throat. He couldn't bring himself to let her go.
He was experiencing that mysterious miracle all over again. The nameless force that had raged through his body, seizing control of him, was growing quieter by the second. It wasn't merely that he felt better. The very energy that had tormented him was beginning to circulate gently through his veins, as if an enemy had, in a single instant, become an ally.
Her hot breath spilled through the slight gap between their lips and scattered against his skin. A laugh of sheer satisfaction threatened to rise in Carion's throat. He couldn't let this ecstasy slip away.
Something snapped in his mind.
Bracing himself on one arm, he pushed up; with the other he wrapped around her waist and shifted their positions. He laid her down and covered her with his body, pinning her beneath him — an instinctive act, to keep her from escaping. He sealed her mouth with his, kissing her with a lingering, caressing hunger.
They were both wearing nothing but a single layer of thin nightclothes. Just holding each other, sharing those dense, heated breaths, was enough to feel the warmth of skin and the shape of every curve pressed flush against the other. The friction of their bodies sliding together melted into a languid, spreading pleasure.
His tongue traced up her cheek, and he caught her earlobe lightly between his lips. A shiver raced through her; her body gave a sharp, involuntary tremble.
"Hnh!"
His mouth traveled behind her ear and down, pressing kiss after kiss along her throat. Her breasts, brushing against the hard plane of his chest, swelled under the stimulation. He tightened his grip, kneading her roughly, and his fingertips caught the peaked nipple and twisted.
"Ah...!"
Rhea gasped, a startled cry catching in her throat. This man is not in his right mind, she told herself. Right now, the urgent thing was to calm his rampage. It was mortifying — a man she'd known for barely a few days, groping a place she'd never allowed anyone to touch — but she could endure it. She'd been prepared to throw her life away to save this man. Letting him touch her chest was nothing by comparison.
Ugh...
She squeezed her eyes shut. If it had simply been unpleasant, she would have gritted her teeth and borne it. But the sensation of his large hands on her body was... strange. Her fingertips and toes felt as if they were tingling — similar to the pins-and-needles of lost circulation, and yet entirely different. Her mind was growing hot, and her breath came short for no reason she wanted to name.
His hand swept down her lower belly, descending to her pubic bone — so close it nearly brushed the hair between her legs.
W-wait!
How far was she supposed to let this go? In her previous life, she had lived largely on impulse. Situations had a way of demanding she deal with whatever was in front of her first, and nothing else. That habit had stuck. When she'd kissed him, she hadn't actually thought about what would come after. The situation was growing more dangerous by the moment.
A mocking voice seemed to echo in her head: You'll die for him, but you won't give him your body?
Those are two completely different things!
She was about to push him off when his body suddenly went slack.
"Huh?"
Pinned beneath him, Rhea waited a moment. The breath at her ear was even and regular. His body didn't so much as twitch. She braced her arms and pushed. He was too heavy. She couldn't budge him.
Help me. You have to help me this time.
The instant Rhea put all her strength into her arms, a current of wind slipped into the gap between them and rolled his body over, laying him on his back. The crushing weight vanished. She stared at the ceiling, dragging in several deep, ragged breaths.
Once she'd caught her breath, she sat up and pulled her nightgown back into place — it had slipped so far her chest was nearly bare. Her hands were trembling slightly.
I brought this on myself. I know. I know that.
She fanned her face with her hand. Her heart was still pounding, and her ears burned. She could still feel the shameless motion of his hands, gripping and kneading her breasts. Rhea stared blankly at the far end of the room, determined not to look at Carion's face — or his hands. The wind drifted around her, a gentle, circling breeze.
After she'd calmed down a little, she crept closer to him. His sleeping face was peaceful, and his breathing was easy. He didn't look like a man who'd passed out from pain. He looked like he'd simply fallen asleep.
Is he all right now? He won't... explode?
A small gust brushed her cheek as it passed, as if to say: It's all right.
Rhea folded her arms and sank into thought. Let's assume the first rampage was the one in the forest. If he'd lost control before that, he'd already be dead. So he kissed me in the forest, recovered temporarily, and then after some interval, the rampage started again...
The questions kept coming, one after another. Why was his awakening so unstable? Had the rampage been fully calmed this time? If this was only a temporary lull, when would he lose control again? Did calming him require physical contact? And how far did that contact have to go?
She'd been lost in thought for some time when she started, her gaze snapping toward the window. The sky outside had already deepened to a dark, inky blue.
This is bad!
Rhea hurried back to her own room. The moment she confirmed it was empty, she climbed into bed and burrowed under the covers.
Whew.
She'd been terrified of running into Penny at the bedroom door. She'd made such a show of promising to go to bed quietly. If she got caught sneaking around at night, her dignity would be in tatters.
And what would I even say?
As the cold sheets warmed with her body heat, everything that had just happened came flooding back, vivid and inescapable. The heat and hunger that had played across that sculpted face — she couldn't have missed it if she'd tried, and she couldn't forget it if she wanted to. Silently screaming oh no, oh no inside her head, she drifted off before she knew it.
Sunlight streaming through the window fell across his face. Carion frowned, rolling over — then a moment later sat bolt upright. He scanned the room in a swift glance. No one. He checked his clothes. Fortunately, he was still wearing his nightshirt.
A dream?
What kind of dream was that vivid... That was the sort of fevered dream you had when you'd only just discovered what desire was. And the other person in it was the princess of Zephyros, of all people. He swore he'd never harbored lustful thoughts toward her. He'd thought about touching her, yes — but he'd had a perfectly legitimate reason.
He pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose, drowning in self-reproach — and then something glittering caught his eye. He picked it up between his fingers. A single long strand of golden hair. Caught in the light, it gleamed like a thread of gold.
"Ha!"
Like a dam bursting, every memory came flooding in. From what had happened in the forest last night, all the way through the conversation he'd had with her before dawn.
Good God.
It would have been better if it had been a dream. What had he done? The gap in his memory only made it worse. He had no idea how far he'd gone — what the worst of it might have been.
Carion had been waiting in his office since early morning. The princess might come looking for him. He sat at his desk, chin resting on his clasped hands, and had been sitting that way for some time. The longer he waited, the more restless he became. Time crawled.
I'll wait one more hour. Then I'll go to her myself, or send someone.
His mind felt broken. The same scenes kept replaying, over and over. The softness of her skin against his palm. The sound of her startled breathing. Those small, caught sounds... He clenched his jaw, trying to shake off the heat pooling low in his belly. He'd always prided himself on his willpower. He hadn't known his own body could be this weak in the face of instinct.
"Your Highness."
Carion started, his gaze snapping up. Cedric was standing in front of him. He hadn't even noticed.
"What is it?"
"Documents regarding the forest fire — damage assessment and recovery, Your Highness."
Carion gestured for him to bring them over. He opened the topmost document on the stack.
"Was there damage?"
"The forest village burned to the ground. Other property damage is minor. A few people sustained light injuries, but none require treatment. I'd like to assemble an investigation team to determine the cause of the fire."
"Hold off on the investigation team."
Carion hadn't yet decided how long they would remain at the garrison. If he formed an investigation team, it would take at least a month to complete the inquiry.
"Yes, Your Highness. Regarding the guests in the annex—"
Carion's hand paused as he turned the page. The "guests in the annex" referred to the Zephyros delegation. The fact that a Zephyros delegation was staying at the garrison was a secret. It would have been best to minimize their exposure as much as possible, but he couldn't house all of them in the residence — not with the volume of classified documents kept there. For now, he'd given rooms in the residence only to the princess and her attending maid. The rest of the party had been sent to the annex, with the Commander-in-Chief's personal guard stationed around it.
"Last night, they disobeyed our orders and gathered in front of the residence. A considerable number of soldiers witnessed them."
"Why did they gather at the residence?"
"Upon inquiry, it appears they were acting on the orders of the delegation's representative."
"The princess?"
"Yes."