Secret Garden Tryst

“Meet me in the gardens when the moon shines through your window.”


Vi read the note over and over, giggling to herself. A sliver of moon light peeked through her curtains. It was time.


Throwing a cloak over her dress, she hurried to her balcony.


She tossed her shoes to the ground and climbed on the railing. In a practiced leap, she took ahold of a branch of a very close tree.


The tree had almost perfect footholds for her to use to get safely down. She wouldn’t dare get her shoes scratched. Her mother would know right away.


If her mother witnessed her hanging on a tree in her gown with no shoes, she would faint. Good thing that she was deep in slumber. The night provided a good cover. There were guards stationed at her door and outside the castle of course, but none in the gardens.


To her mother, the gardens did not need protection.


Once she caught her breath from her escape, she slipped her shoes back on and scurried to the fountain in the middle of the gardens.


“Derrick?”


No answer.


All she could hear was the soft thump of her flats and her loud thundering heart.


In her daily life, chaos and clamoring follow her everywhere. Maids coming in and out, each adding something to her schedule. Tutoring and meetings. People talking to her instead of with her. It was quiet moments at night that she cherished.


“Vi?”


The moon almost casted a perfect spotlight on him. There he was with his messy curly hair and warm, brown eyes. Arms open for her.


She ran into them and relished in the warmth of his embrace. “I missed you,” he whispered, his breath fanning across her face. She nuzzled their noses together, smiling so wide, her chapped lips hurt.


“I missed you, Der. My beloved.”


“Who knew being betrothals would mean we get to spend less time with each other,” he gave a short chuckle.


“Well that will be done tomorrow. When I become your wife.”


He took her breath away with a quick kiss. “I can’t wait to be known as husband of the ethereal Princess Genevieve.”


She could feel her cheeks heat up, her blush rising. “You exaggerate, Lord Derrick.”


His arms circled around her waist, holding her as close as humanly possible. “What would you rather me use? Dazzling? Divine? Bewitching? Absolutely enchanting?”


“You no longer need to flatter me. We are getting married tomorrow,” she teased, bringing her heated palms to his chilled cheeks.


“Actually, Vi, it gives me every reason to do just that.”


God does she love this man. She never believed in soulmates, but being with Der, she was beginning to warm up to the concept.


In these quiet instances, they enjoyed each other’s presence. Neither needed to speak. Just comfortable being with each other.


“I should get back before the guards notice I’m gone,” she pointed out, though made no attempt to move. He rested his head on her shoulder and sighed loudly. “You’re right. I just needed to see you.”


“Just think, the next time you’ll see me, we’ll be getting married.” She could feel him grin.


“Well that certainly is something to look forward to.”


His arms tightened for a moment and then he reluctantly let go. A rush of cold seeped through her clothing. She longed to be in his embrace again.


“Good night, Vi,” he said with the softest smile she had ever seen.


“Until tomorrow, my beloved.” Vi left with a press of her lips to his cheek and her heart in his hold.


Tomorrow couldn’t come quick enough.

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