Sleep eluded me all of last night. I tossed and turned until the wee hours, when my body gave up from the exertion, but it was only for a few hours of light rest. I open my eyes and it’s still dark outside. I’m already wide awake.
Standing on my balcony, hugging myself, I remember that I used to wake up around this time in my old life. I was obsessed with productivity, maxing out my 24 hours, and realizing my body’s full potential. Since I was reborn into this world, I don’t even wake up until close to noon, and the horseback riding and crossbow lessons I take can’t even increase my heart rate.
I change into an all-white form-fitting pique cotton shirt and pants ensemble, and slip into custom-made lace-up canvas sneakers with rubber soles. This is the best I can do in terms of sportswear in this world.
Like old times, I’m out for a run. Even now in this new life, I still don’t know why I do it. I cut through the unpaved path as fast as I can, illuminated only by the sun just barely on the horizon.
The cold morning air on my face, my blood pumping hot in my veins, I revel in the feeling of my body being temporarily suspended in the air for one brief moment, that moment between my feet springing my body forward from the ground and then landing, only to repeat the motion again. I don’t know where I’m going until I finally reach a clearing.
My body brought me to the training grounds. Since I’m already here, I can maybe practice hitting some targets with my crossbow. It’s been a while. But the training area is already occupied.
On the platform is Kalel with a wooden sword. I’ve never seen his hair pulled back into a ponytail before, or him in casual clothes. Sweat dripped down his delicate face, his long, strong neck, sweat sparkling in the air as he twists and turns his practice sword with rapid force. His movements are measured, graceful.
I almost forgot how strong Kalel could be. I forgot that he is a demon king, and demon kings secure their position not by heritage but by strength.
And I don’t believe he has forgotten. It looks like he has been at this for a while. Maybe he does this every day, before his day as a butler begins.
He abruptly stops and turns around. “My lady?”
But I’m already hiding behind a tree. I’m still catching my breath—from my run, my body not being used to it anymore, and from the fright of him recognizing my presence.
I suppress a squeal. He’s already walking up to me, and now he’s right in front of me, trying to meet my averted gaze with his curious ruby eyes.
His honeyed voice tickles my ears. “Why are you hiding from me?” He lowers his face close to mine.
I lift my head up and was momentarily shocked by how close we are. Under the shadows of the dawn, I can’t see his face clearly. What expression is he wearing now? I see the sweat glisten on his creamy skin, illuminating the contours of his delicate features.
“I’m not. I’m out of breath, and I’m taking a break,” I half-lie. I really am trying to catch my breath, but I know that the warmth on my cheeks betray me. The cool woody scent in the air is mixed with the sweet sweat from Kalel’s warm, hard body, and I had to stop my hands from touching his muscular heaving chest, peeking through his wet unbuttoned shirt.
I’ve never felt like this around Kalel. My heart won’t calm down. My entire body is tingly, heating up. Sure, I get flustered around him, but I always felt coddled up and safe. Throughout the one year we’ve spent together, he always kept a respectful distance.
Something has changed. He was reluctant to let me go when our waltz practice was over. I didn’t see him all day yesterday, but I felt his presence in how all my needs were always met—like he was watching, but deliberately avoiding me.
But right now, he’s leaning his body close. His red eyes narrow on mine. There’s something about the focused look on his face that makes me nervous. It’s almost predatory. I’ve always wanted to be this close, but now it’s finally happening, I don’t think I’m prepared.
I can’t move away any further with my back against the tree. He reaches forward, and his delicate fingers slowly brush loose strands of my sweaty hair away from my face and tucks it behind my ear, his fingertips lingering down my sticky, soaked neck, sending shivers throughout my body.
Things haven’t been the same since the waltz. Like it awakened something dormant in him and he’s struggling to contain it.
His plump pink lips, only a few inches from mine, part open slowly.
But the morning sun has scattered its light and everything is now in plain view. He backs away. I straighten my posture, my desires doused by the brightness.
“I’ll prepare some refreshments.”
He immediately left. Now I’m by myself, I touch where his fingers touched. What’s going on?
I pace back and forth and decide to zone out with some target practice. I reach for an arrow, load it into my crossbow, take my aim and pull the trigger. It was easy to make my first bull’s eye.
A boxing bag will be infinitely more effective in venting out these suppressed feelings!
When the lemon water and coffee came out, it was being carried by Sylvia.
“Good morning, my lady,” she greets with a knowing smile. “It’s almost time to prepare for your Imperial Ball fittings.”
