The Letter V

It was the next night that Nathan finally got the welcome distraction from his own thoughts that he had longed for.

“Where did you even learn to play like that?” Edmund’s friend Callum lamented, throwing his hand of cards onto the table in front of him.

Nathan grinned, sliding the small pile of chips toward his place. “A favorite hobby to pass time, from the service,” he remarked, leaning back in his chair and propping his ankles up onto the table. He took a swig from the glass of ale sitting in front of him. “And university before that. Right, Daniel?”

Daniel nodded, looking as though he’d rather put those years in the past. In truth, he had spent most of them intoxicated, so it wasn’t as though he could remember much in the first place.

Nathan and Daniel had become close friends when Nathan had first come to school away from home - they had been hallmates, classmates, teammates, and eventually saw so much of each other that they bonded. Much like Nathan, Daniel was rather reserved, only unlike the prince, Daniel’s reservation was due to being shy rather than pensive. He was tall and lanky - he looked like a man who was very intelligent, but spent very little time outdoors. But he was fiercely loyal to Nathan, being his only close friend, and so the prince was glad to have him on as a personal advisor.

Edmund sat at the last seat at the table, smirking over the top of his cards. “Well, it’s good to hear you did something interesting with your time,” he said sarcastically, eyeing Nathan with some annoyance. “It was starting to sound like you were living in a monastery from the sound of the letters you sent home.”

Daniel snorted. “Hardly, we would sneak out to town every weekend and -”

Edmund leaned forward in his chair excitedly. “And? What trouble could the good prince have gotten into?” he demanded, trying to intimidate the answer out of the younger man.

Nathan cut him off. “That’s enough.”

The older prince rolled his eyes. “You’re no fun.”

Of course he wasn’t, Nathan thought, leaning his head back to relax. Edmund had had more than enough ‘fun’ in his youth to bring all of his behavioral expectations down upon his younger brother’s shoulders. He had pranked the servants, destroyed ancient parts of the castle, and had even disappeared for a week at a time, only to return home in a drunken, bruised mess. There had been many an occasion in which Nathan had received the lecture instead of his brother, which only added to his desire to become nothing like him.

In a way, Edmund had been allowed the freedom to act however he pleased in his youth. Charles II, while not entirely active in his life, was of the opinion that he should be allowed some form of expression while he was still young, for he wouldn’t be allowed this freedom to do so once he was King. Still, though, Nathan was admittedly annoyed that the strict rules had fallen upon him because of his brother’s mistakes. And yet he still had the nerve to call him ‘boring’.

Nathan was jolted out of his thoughts by a knock at the door.

The four men glanced at each other, confused, before Edmund finally rose to answer it. It was his den, after all - a small room adjoined to his bedchambers, complete with a fireplace, a small table, and some comfortable chairs. Edmund’s face broke out into a sly smirk as he pulled the door open, eyeing the person on the other side with an expression that Nathan could only describe as wicked.

A woman, one that Nathan had never seen before, sauntered into the room after Edmund.

She was breathtaking, Nathan had to admit. She had long raven hair that flowed down her back, supple tanned skin and dark, brooding eyes. She wore an extremely sheer dress which hugged her waist and chest, cut out perfectly to expose her smooth shoulders. She wore bright rouge on her cheeks and lips, and looked as though she had stepped out of Edmund’s fantasies.

The atmosphere in the room was suddenly changed.

Edmund eyed the rest of the men. “Oh, come now, gentlemen,” he said slyly, reaching out to grab one of the woman’s wrists. He gently pulled her toward him and she followed, pressing the length of her body against his. “Don’t look as though you’ve never seen a beautiful woman before. Except Nathan, perhaps.”

Nathan scowled.

The woman looked up at Edmund with a small smile. She was pretty, Nathan had to admit - but he didn’t seem to be falling over himself to have at her, unlike the other men in the room. She was like a fine piece of art - beautiful, for the time you’re in front of it, but otherwise useless.

Callum let out a whistle. “Cassandra,” he said suggestively. “Pleasure to see you again.”

Cassandra nodded in his direction, still clinging to Edmund’s side. “Of course it is, Mr. Dawes.”

Nathan was struck at the casualty and familiarity with which this Cassandra woman spoke and acted with Edmund. It was as though she knew him very well - clearly, she knew him in a biblical sense, if the way she was pressed up against the prince was indication. He was suddenly invited into his brother’s private life, an invitation he had neither received or accepted.

Nathan thought of Penelope then. Edmund was to marry her in less than a week, and yet, here he was, clearly on a mission to have his way with some other woman. She was clearly a mistress, lady of the night, whatever she was - had he no shame? Why was she here with all the other men? She clearly knew Callum - how could he think this was alright?

Nathan cleared his throat and stood up abruptly, pulling on his tunic to even it out “Well, that’s enough of that for the evening, I think,” he remarked, grabbing his coat and placing it over his arm.

Daniel stood up as well, his eyes never making contact with anything other than the table or the floor. He hadn’t made a single movement since Cassandra had entered the room, nor had he even looked in her direction.

Edmund looked confused. “Is something wrong, gentlemen? The night is young - there are more games to be had.”

Nathan couldn’t believe his brother. It was one thing to be having his way with all the women when he had been younger - it was a favorite pastime of Edmund’s - but he hadn’t known he was doing it behind Penelope’s back. They were getting married. Did he not realize that?

“I believe you’ll be… entertained, regardless,” he snapped, before taking off toward the door.

Just as Nathan stepped outside, Edmund called at him.

“Oi! Hold up, you!”

Nathan spun on his heel and gave his brother a look. Edmund closed the door behind him so that the two of them were alone, leaving the other men and Cassandra on the other side. Edmund was clearly angry - Nathan was in for it, he knew.

Edmund scowled. “Just because you are younger, that does not give you the right to come back here and sulk around the place.”

Nathan clenched his fists at his sides. “I am not sulking, Edmund, I just - what are you thinking?”

The elder brother rolled his eyes. “I’m thinking that Cassandra is a beautiful woman, and I have certain needs that need fulfilling.”

“You’re engaged! You’ll be married in a week!”

“Oh, come off it,” Edmund spat. “Don’t go preaching your righteous-brother speech. Everyone does this, Nathan. Or what, did you think Father has been a faithful husband all these years? How do you think Roman happened?”

Nathan took a step back, his head spinning. No, that couldn’t be - could it? Roman wasn’t a bastard, at least as far as he knew. Then again, Nathan had been a young boy when Roman was born, Edmund had been much older. How could he have known? No, perhaps he was lying to get a rise out of him. That was quite like him, now that he thought about it.

“You’re lying,” Nathan seethed, his words escaping through clenched teeth.

Edmund looked exasperated. “How can you be this naive? You’re a man of the world, you’re -” He paused, and then his eyes widened. “You’ve never had a woman, have you?”

Nathan didn’t respond, only scoffed.

“You haven’t!” Edmund exclaimed, “God, it all makes sense now. The judgement, the morality - you’re basically a priest. That’s - That’s just unnatural, Nathan.”

“I refuse to listen to this,” the younger prince snarled, before turning on his heels and stalking off in the other direction.

He could hear Edmund laughing at his backside. “This conversation isn’t over, brother!”

Oh yes, it was, if Nathan had anything to say about it.

He stormed off, fuming. Regardless of the fact that what Edmund had concluded was true, he was not as naive as his brother would like to think. He had known the… urges, of which Edmund had little control over, but Nathan had preferred instead to focus his energy into something productive rather than into a woman. He liked to think that there would eventually be one woman who would mean that to him, and at that point, he could learn the ways. He felt like no less of a man because of it. Until now, at least.

It had never even occurred to him to be embarrassed about it, or to even care. He did not publicize his romantic life to anyone, even Daniel, his closest friend. It did not matter to him, nor should it matter to anyone else. Of course, he realized, everyone in the castle liked to gossip - it was in their nature, he reasoned, to care for business other than their own. It was an annoying, yet understandable habit that he had managed to forgo during his studies.

In truth, he had no idea where he was walking, only that he was going far, far away from Edmund, in whatever direction his legs would carry him. Before he knew what was happening, he had carried himself to the library again, lured by the smell of the books and the fire that was burning in the fireplace.

He approached the door timidly - who could be in there at this time of the night? It was late, surely everyone else had long ago gone to sleep. He was certain that very few people got any use out of the library anyway.

Upon opening the door just a little, Nathan could already tell that Violet was inside.

She sat on the fur rug in front of the fireplace, with her skirts spread around her like a pool of satin liquid. Her hair hung loose behind her shoulders, glowing softly from the light of the small fire in the fireplace. He could see that her face was skewed in concentration, as though she were observing something carefully. He realized, as he approached, that she was holding a children’s picture book in her small hands.

“Riveting stuff, isn’t it?” he joked.

Violet seemed to feel his presence before he spoke. She coyly turned to look over her shoulder, her striking violet eyes wide with curiosity. “I wish I knew,” she said quietly before turning back to the open page. “All I have to go on are the pictures.”

Nathan glanced at the open book - it was beautifully illustrated. Violet had opened it to the end, where the page gleamed with an image of a man and a woman dancing through a lavish ballroom. The woman wore a beautiful, flowing blue gown, which was painted as though she were dancing gracefully. She was on the arm of a royal-looking man.

Curious, Nathan sat down beside Violet.

He turned to look at the cover of the book - Cinderella. He couldn’t help but let out a snort. “There’s a terrible amount of irony in that book selection,” he mused, letting the cover fall back onto Violet’s lap.

Violet looked confused. “Why do you say that?”

The prince paused for a second, looking down at her enchanting face. It was lit but the soft firelight, flickering in and out of intensity, a remarkable golden glow. He felt a tingle rush down his spine as he looked at her.

“Here,” he said softly, taking the book from her hands and pulling it over. He rested it between their legs so that they both could see it. “Why don’t I read it to you?”

After a moment, Violet nodded slowly. Yes, she thought. She’d like that very much.

Nathan smiled at her, quickly, before he looked toward the book and began to read aloud. “Once upon a time…”

Violet listened to his even, melodic voice as he read, pausing every so often for emphasis, or to turn the page. It was almost hypnotic, the sound, the cadence of the words. She was listening, she swore she was, but it was proving difficult for her to stay awake.

Instead, she turned her attention to Nathan himself. The light from the fireplace cast a warm glow over his features, making them look even more attractive, if that was even possible. She hadn’t thought that it was, but clearly she’d been wrong. She watched, hypnotized, as his lips formed each word, speaking slowly but rhythmically, as though he’d had years of practice. She was surprised that he didn’t look or sound bored - clearly this was well below his ability, and yet he looked at each page, surprised and intrigued, before glancing at her to make sure she was still paying attention.

She was, and her heart skipped a momentary beat whenever he looked at her.

What was this feeling? She wondered, her eyes flickering back and forth between the colorful pages and his stately face. It was probable shock, she reasoned - here was the prince, Prince Nathan Morganstern, sitting on the floor of the library with her, reading a children’s book to a servant. She felt like she should have been embarrassed, but she found that she couldn’t.

She was too focused on the way his arm gently grazed hers, sending shivers down her spine.

“... And they lived happily ever after,” he concluded, before gently shutting the book onto his own lap. He looked down at Violet, smiling. “You see what I mean? Irony.”

Dammit. She hadn’t been paying attention, nor was she certain exactly what irony meant. “Right - of course.” She smiled up at him, regardless. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” he said softly.

He gently handed the book back to her. In the exchange, their hands touched, just for a moment - and the electricity was palpable. Violet gasped, and looked back up at him suddenly. His face was close, much closer than she thought, and she could feel it drawing her in. She could feel the energy in the air, hanging like a thick, warm cloud, enveloping them both in a haze.

He wanted more than anything to close that gap.

“You’ve never had a woman, have you?”

Nathan sat back suddenly, breaking the spell that had been cast over the two of them. He could feel his limbs grow cold, as though someone had splashed cold water over him. He had known this feeling before - literally, just before he had been dumped into a lake.

Violet blinked at him in confusion. What was that? Had she done something wrong? What was about to happen there? And why did it seem so… familiar?

“I-I should go,” Nathan said, pulling himself up from the floor. He offered a hand to Violet, who took it, rising to her feet with the book in her hand.

For an instant, as she stood, Violet was pressed close to him. He could smell the smell of her hair - it smelled of flowers, and soap, and vanilla. It was intoxicating. And the warmth from her body wrapped around his, sending the blood racing through his veins. He wanted no more than to reach out and embrace her, pull her close, and then -

“Thank you,” Violet said gently, taking a small step back and clutching the book to her chest. She was hoping to conceal the ragged breathing she’d suddenly come down with. “For reading to me, Nathan. You didn’t need to do that.”

Nathan offered her a lopsided smile. “I know - I wanted to.” He cleared his throat a little. “And you’re welcome.”

Violet ducked her head, taking a few steps toward the door. “I should be off, then. I’m sure someone is looking for me.”

Once she reached the doorframe, she paused to turn around to look at him. The way he was standing in the middle of the room, looking at her - it made her heart flutter in her chest, just a little. Her mind flashed back to the prince in the book, stately, handsome, and kind. He was Nathan, pure and simple. For a fleeting moment, she felt like a princess.

And in an instant, it was gone.

“Good night, Your Highness,” she said softly, before taking off down the hallway. She only hoped Nathan wouldn’t notice the blush of embarrassment spreading across her cheeks.

In truth, he hadn’t. He was still reeling from the comment made by his brother - for the way it made him feel. It wasn’t his fault that no woman had struck his fancy enough to even consider it. But, as he watched her walk off, he couldn’t help but wonder - is this what it felt like?

He had a distinct feeling that it would be a bad idea to find out.