Annabella sat on the carved stone bench, legs crossed with precise, practiced grace.
Gabrielle paced slowly in front of her, every step deliberate, like she was reading Annabella's silken composure for cracks. There was always something more behind eyes like that, Gabrielle thought. Something just under the glass.
"You're sharper than I expected," Gabrielle mused aloud. "Most girls flinch the moment Callen starts reciting poetry. But you..."
Annabella's voice was light. "I've seen worse. A prince once tried to impress me with duck-shaped shadow puppets."
Gabrielle's laugh came easy. "You didn't strike me as someone easily dazzled."
"Certainly not by birds." Annabella paused, then said: "Or boys."
Gabrielle raised an eyebrow. "Interesting."
Annabella just smiled, unreadable as a locked gate.
"So," Gabrielle went on, beginning to circle her again, "what's your take on our beloved kingdom of ladders and masks? Sagans curtsying for crumbs, nobles hoarding spells like heirlooms."
Annabella titled her head, then answered softly, "Mage society doesn't stand apart. It mirrors Sagan society perfectly. Power isn't inherited, it's performed. And Sagans with magic? They become kings in their own villages. It's the same dance. The difference is who gets the better shoes."
Gabrielle gave a soft, impressed laugh. "So you admit it. All of it...theatre."
Annabella didn't blink. "Power is always a performance. We're just born on the stage and taught how to bow."
Gabrielle's eyes sharpened. "Do you think love can survive in that kind of theatre?"
There was a stillness.
Then Annabella's voice, smooth and cool, slid in like a blade under silk. "Mages marry for power. For coin. For peace between houses. Not for love."
From where she stood, half-hidden behind a marble column, Rea's entire body tensed. She didn't move, but something in her chest went rigid. Like breath caught in frost.
Gabrielle tilted her head. "And your engagement? Is that part of the script too?"
Annabella answered without hesitation. "Every stage needs a central act."
Gabrielle, still watching her, let the moment breathe. Then she sat beside her... close, but not too close.
"Then maybe it's time someone gave the audience a better story." Her voice dropped. "One with actual tension."
Annabella's eyes slid toward her. Calculating. Curious.
"I mean," Gabrielle added, her tone lighter but her intent now crystal-clear, "if you're not willing to write it… someone else might."
Her glance flicked deliberately, toward Rea.
Annabella, frowned, held her gloves tighter, masking the way Gabrielle's words had troubled her.
Gabrielle wanted Rea and was making it clear.
From her place in the shadows, Rea exhaled, long and low, like something in her had been punctured. The words had been expected. The feeling, less so.
Her jaw flexed.
Gabrielle was now fully relaxed, letting her gaze fall on the nearby field where Dean and Callen were still tossing stones and laughing like idiots. Arthur stood further off, arms crossed, trying to decipher the conversation he knew he wasn't clever enough to decode.
But Annabella knew Rea was watching.
And Rea knew Annabella had spoken those lines with care, not to protect their secret, but to keep the wound hidden.
Still, neither of them looked at each other.
They didn't have to.
The air between them buzzed, not with rage, not with betrayal, but with the ache of something just out of reach. Like a memory. Like a cave bathed in moonlight. Like fingers brushing under water. Like a kiss they weren't supposed to want but kept returning to.
Gabrielle noticed.
And she smiled.
Because Rea might've been taken, but she wasn't claimed.
Not yet.
After they returned from the gardens, Annabella asked politely for a bath to be drawn in the east wing, where the moonlight spilled like silver lace across the floors. She needed space. Silence. And steam hot enough to drown the ache blooming in her chest.
She dismissed her maid with a soft word and locked the outer doors.
By the time she sank into the bath, the water was nearly too hot. Her hair was pinned up, her lashes dewed with steam, and her body bare beneath the milky haze of jasmine and sage oils.
She frowned and closed her eyes, trying not to feel the echo of Gabrielle's words or the truth behind Rea's silence.
She didn't hear the wall shift.
Didn't hear the soft slide of the hidden door, a narrow passage tucked behind a tall mirror.
Then—
"You always ask for the prettiest chambers."
Annabella opened her eyes slowly.
Rea stood at the edge of the bath, boots laced tight, shirt half-unbuttoned, hair slightly damp like she'd been running, and just beneath the waistband of her trousers, the evidence of her arousal strained fiercely. Her eyes gleamed with something familiar.
You would think this only happens in novels but here we are Rea....Here we are," Annabella huffed annoyed
Stop pretending you don't want me here." Rea's voice was low, husky.
Annabella didn't move but squeezed her thighs as she said. "Stop being so reckless! You are going to get us in troubles! God forbid my dad gets to know about this...us"
Rea took a step forward. Her eyes flicked over Annabella's body beneath the water—but only lingered long enough to remember.
"I know," Rea said. "That's what makes it interesting."
Annabella spoke again, voice steady but soft. "I can't do with you"
Rea smiled. "then don't resist it."
Another step closer. The candlelight caught the gleam of water droplets on Annabella's collarbone, the subtle shift of her breathing. She didn't cover herself. Didn't shy away
"You're liking this, you pervert," she whispered.
Rea crouched at the edge of the bath, eyes level with hers now. "I am still behaving myself don't make me a pervert."
Annabella's gaze dropped as she blushed.
Their silence was not empty.
The sting of pretending.
The fear of wanting.
"I had to see you," Rea said.
Annabella's voice wavered, just a little. "So you snuck through a hidden door in a house full of mages?"
"I'm good at doors," Rea murmured. "Not so good at staying away."
Annabella's breath caught. She rose slightly, water sliding down her skin, her perky breast, her plumb ass. She glowed in the candlelight like marble
Then Suddenly,
The belt, the trousers, the last layers of clothes Rea had on peeled off, falling to the ground as Rea stepped into the bath. She was done asking for permission.
She cornered Annabella
"Rea," Annabella warned, heart thudding. "This isn't—"
Rea cupped her jaw and kissed her.
Annabella gasped and pushed back slightly, breath stuttering. "You shouldn't—this—this is wrong. You can't just do whatever you want."
Rea's eyes flicked to her mouth, then back. "I don't recall you complaining in the cave."
"That was different—"
"Was it?"
Annabella opened her mouth, but Rea silenced her with a slow kiss to her collarbone. Her lips moved upward, grazing wet skin until she reached the delicate spot beneath Annabella's ear.
The friction was so maddeningly slow it made Annabella whimper. Rea's hands found the curve of Annabella's hips, kissing her feverishly. This prompted lewd moans out of both.
Annabella was feeling Rea's groin rubbing against her sweet spot. She moaned low and helpless.
Then Rea whispered: "Or are you just jealous?"
Annabella stilled. "Of what?"
Rea smirked against her neck. "Gabrielle."
Annabella arched a brow, resisting the heat in her cheeks. "Jealousy is a petty indulgence."
Rea hummed. "Mm. And you didn't like that."
"I didn't like her assuming anything about us."
"About what we are?"
Annabella's silence said everything.
Rea pulled back, just enough to meet her eyes. "What are we...Bella!
Annabella stared at her, chest tight. She'd seen Rea reckless, furious, wounded. But this version, the one begging instead of demanding, struck deeper than any touch.
This time, Annabella closed the distance and holding Rea's face, she kissed her first.
A slow, tangled kiss full of lust. Between kisses Rea pleaded: Don't hold back! Give it to me!
Rea's tongue parted her lips without asking, claiming, tasting, biting. One of her hands slid under the water, gripping Annabella's thigh and dragging it over her hip, anchoring her.
Fingers tangled in hair. Breath caught in throats.
There was nothing polite about it.
Only need.
Only longing.
Annabella moaned helplessly into her mouth.
When her eyes burned violet, Rea knew she was ready.
Then Rea's hips shifted, hard flesh pressed against her wet ****. Slick, aching, ready.
"Rea..." Annabella gasped, trying to speak sense through the fog of desire. "This nghn....nghnn... is ...too far".
Rea moaned into her mouth, pressing closer, grinding against her core in slow, maddening friction.
"Don't hold back," Rea breathed between kisses. "Let me take you. I need it"
Then just as Rea began to slide in
A knock.
Sharp. Too loud.
Annabella froze. "No—Rea, stop—he'll hear—"
Rea didn't stop.
She had just slid the tip in. It was already a maddening feeling. Annabella's grip just got tighter as she got startled.
Rea delicately rose her hips beneath the water. "Let him knock."
Annabella gasped, her hand gripping Rea's wrist, desperate. "Please... if you stop now—just stop—I'll let you do whatever you want. Later. Just not now."
Rea groaned like she was in pain.
Then she pulled out.
She left the bath as she reached for her clothes, movements sharp and silent, then disappeared the same way she'd come
Annabella scrambled to her feet, heart pounding, robe clinging damply to her skin. She pulled it tighter, barely composed herself, and opened the door a crack.
Arthur stood outside, one fist still half-raised.
"Annabella, I heard voi—"
"Arthur," she cut in coolly, the edge of authority unmistakable. "Do you make a habit of intruding on a lady's private chambers while she bathes?"
His eyes widened, then immediately dropped. "I—I didn't mean to—I just thought—"
"You thought wrong," she said, each word pristine as glass. "And whichever maid gave you passage past the inner hall should be disciplined for it."
"I—of course. I didn't know—"
"You may leave now."
He stepped back, cheeks flushed, and jaw clenched, clearly struggling with something more than just embarrassment. Annabella's eyes flicked downward once, just briefly.
So did his.
He turned hastily, muttering something unintelligible, and walked off with rigid dignity—his attempt at composure betrayed by the way his coat shifted awkwardly at his waist.
Annabella shut the door gently.
And turned straight into Rea.
She hadn't heard her. Hadn't sensed her. But there she was. Before Annabella could speak, Rea lifted her effortlessly and set her down on the carved edge of the bathing table.
"You promised," she murmured.
Annabella's robe came undone in a single pull. Cool air kissed flushed skin.
Then Rea kissed lower.
Her mouth trailed down her collarbone, over her breasts, between her thighs. Annabella shuddered violently as the slick head of Rea's c*** pressed against her, hot and hard and desperate.
for a second, Rea's lips were hovering over Annabella's mouth, panting, trembling with the need not to take. But her eyes begged for permission.
Annabella kissed her first and clutched her with a sob as she said. "Please ...be gentle ah"
Rea entered her in one slow, claiming thrust.
Each thrust was slow at first, drawing out moans that were no longer controlled. Annabella wrapped her legs around Rea's waist, dragging her closer, grinding up to meet each drive. The rhythm became fierce. Wild. Rea's hands were everywhere—on her waist, her throat, tangled in her hair.
Annabella cried out, her back arching as her walls clenched around Rea's swollen groin. Rea groaned low and deep, burying herself fully inside, hips pressed flush to hers.
The table rocked.
The rhythm became fierce. Wild. Rea's hands were everywhere—on her waist, her throat, tangled in her hair.
"You're mine like this," Rea muttered, thrusting slowly now, watching her crumble with every stroke. "So pretty when you break. So fucking perfect when you moan for me."
So quiet... aren't you !!!," Rea murmured against her jaw, "but your whole body is pulsing like it knows it's mine."
Annabella bit her lip so hard it stung. She couldn't say it.... she couldn't moan. She couldn't cry out. Not with Arthur possibly still outside. Not with anyone in the wing who could hear her... hear this.
Rea slammed into her harder, grinding deep, until a sound tore from her lips, half pain, half unbearable pleasure.: "yes...i am yours"
Then Rea's hands grabbed her hips. And pushed deeper.
"I'll fill you up so good, you won't be able to walk straight."
She could feel Rea beginning to swell and throb already, and her walls tightened reflexively, preparing for it.
"You'll remember me every time you close your legs."
Annabella's nails dug into her back — sharp, trembling, unthinking.
Rea came with a feral snarl, her knot locking tight inside Annabella's slick heat. The flood of warmth, of thick release, struck Annabella with a force
She cried out.
Back arching.
Eyes fluttering.
One hand shot up into Rea's hair, tangling, gripping, pulling.
Annabella's lips parted in a half-sob, half-moan.
Annabella was still panting when she felt Rea's mouth press hungrily to her throat, teeth grazing just below her jaw.
"Rea—" she gasped, her voice raw.
Annabella arched involuntarily, the sensitivity turning every movement into a tremor.
Rea's voice was hoarse. "You're not done. I can feel it—you're still trembling for me."
Her fingers dug into Rea's back, scratching faint, red crescents in her skin, and then into her hair, tugging sharply.
It made Rea moan against her throat.
"You're not helping your case," she said darkly, hips shifting again. "You feel too good. You want more.
Annabella's breath caught as footsteps passed faintly down the hall.
"No—enough," she whispered, as she shoved Rea off balance just enough to force her to slide out of her.
Annabella scrambled to re-tie her robe, cheeks flushed, lips swollen, her chest rising and falling like she'd been chased.
she warned. "And I refuse to be caught dripping on a carved table like some tavern girl."
Rea's mouth curved, low and dangerous. "You say that, but you came like one."
Annabella flushed darker. "Out."