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Chapter Twenty Nine:
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Maxwell runs his eyes up her body until he reaches about around her knees until he notices that something does not seem right. His pulse is not racing. His palms are not sweating. And his heart is not pounding away, like it usually does. And that is when he hears it, a voice that makes him shudder with revulsion, an obnoxious and completely unwelcome …
“Hello, Maxwell.”
Maxwell wants to gag. The voice she uses is meant to entice and somewhat arouse him, but it only succeeds in appalling and sickening him. Nonetheless, his parents raised him to be a gentleman. Even though he wants to tell her to get lost, even though she cannot take the hint, he has to at least be civilized to her.
“Hello, Tess,” Maxwell mutters, not raising his eyes to look at her. Instead, he turns his attention to a fine, marbled and very shiny floor. Tess is just so annoying and squeaky all the time.
Maxwell scolds himself. But he realizes that he cannot help himself. After having met Elizabeth, no one else compares. Elizabeth is simply … gorgeous … sweet … kind … she is everything to him.
Maxwell is suddenly pulled out of his thoughts when he realizes that Tess is still talking to him. Apparently, she is expecting some sort of response from him. He stands and finally looks at her. “I apologize … did you say something?”
“Yes, silly,” Tess squeaks out as she pouts her lips and runs a hand playfully over his chest. “I want you to dance with me.”
“I do not dance,” Maxwell says as he grabs her hand to remove it from his body. Just the thought of her touching him makes him shudder. It makes him feel … dirty.
Apparently, grabbing her hand is a bad move. Much to his dislike, Tess clinges to his hand, even after he tries to pry it away from hers. And soon, he is being dragged, by that hand, onto the dance floor.
“Tess …” Maxwell complains, trying, yet again, to pull out of her grasp, but the girl holds on strong. Before he knows what hits him, Tess lets go of his hand and clasps herself to his body, her hands gripped tightly around his waist as she sways to the music.
Maxwell groans as he stands there, muscles tense, standing as still as possible. Why is he always getting into these awkward situations? His eyes dart around the room, searching frantically for his younger brother. Normally, by now, Alexander will have come to his rescue to pry the wretched wench off of him, either with another glass of punch … or a crowbar … but Alexander is nowhere in sight.
Without warning, Maxwell feels someone grab his arm and spin him around, startling Tess as she tries to steady herself, to keep from falling. A hand suddenly places itself on Maxwell’s shoulder and the other reaching for Maxwell’s hand. Maxwell stares down at Isabella smiling up at him. He sighs a great sigh of relief upon seeing her.
Tess storms up to Isabella. “What do you think you are doing?” she asks, raising her voice.
“What does it look like?” Isabella says with a cool smile. “I am dancing with Maxwell.” She tilts her head slightly toward Maxwell’s direction.
“I do not think so,” Tess says. “Maxwell and I are still in the middle of our dance. And besides,” Tess adds, standing as tall as she can, though still very much shorter than Isabella, “I highly doubt Maxwell will want to dance with you.”
“Oh, but you are wrong there, dear cousin of mine,” Isabella says in an obviously too cheery voice. “Maxwell has already promised me a dance. Have you not, Maxwell?”
Both Isabella and Tess look toward Maxwell for his response. Hmmm … dance with Isabella, or be mauled by Tess. Must be even think it over? “I apologize, Tess …”
Tess, with her hands on her hips, purses her lips, and huffs before she storms off, fuming.
After Tess leaves, Maxwell glances down at Isabella. They both laugh.
“I apologize,” Maxwell says. “I do not mean to have you be crude to your cousin.”
Isabella rolls her eyes. “That is alright. She deserves it. How that girl is related to me, I will never know.”
Maxwell chuckles. “Thank you, by the way.”
“No problem. Do not think anything of it. After all,” Isabella says with a sly gleam in her eyes, “I had an ulterior motive.”
“Oh really?” Maxwell says, raising his eyebrows playfully. “And what, pray tell, is that?”
Isabella smiles. “Alexander is in the bathroom, so he is too preoccupied to come and help you like he always does, being the loyal younger brother that he is. I, on the other hand, was free and saw your distress so I came to rescue you from the evil clutches of the she-devil.”
Maxwell chuckles again. Isabella reminds him a lot of Alexander. They are both always so cheerful. They suit each other perfectly. “So, you were just doing this for Alexander?”
“Yes,” she answers with enthusiasm. “Attempting to get into Alexander’s good graces.”
“Are you certain that is your motive?” Maxwell asks, narrowing his eyes playfully. “Are you certain you are not secretly in love with me? Because I must warn you, my heart is already taken.”
Isabella rolls her eyes at him and laughs. But soon her expression dims. “I am truly sorry about Elizabeth,” she whispers to him.
“It is not your fault,” Maxwell says with a sigh.
“I cannot help but feel as though I could have done something to help,” Isabella says sadly.
“You and I both,” Maxwell says, equally gloomy, if not more.
“I wish she were here,” Isabella says, her eyes downcast.
Maxwell brings his finger up and lifts her chin until Isabella is looking at him in the eyes. “She will be.”
Isabella smiles and nods her head.
Both Maxwell and Isabella chat a bit more before the room got quieter as someone approaches them. They both turn their gaze to the side as the person stops right in front of them, before uttering, “May I have this dance?”
Isabella looks toward the speaker and then nervously back at Maxwell. Maxwell is somewhat apprehensive as well. He does not want Isabella dancing with that … person. Maxwell does not want anyone to have to dance with that creature. Everyone has heard wild stories about him. The worst part of all the stories is that they are all true. He is evil. But then, how do you refuse royalty? How do you say no to the King’s brother, or half-brother, anyway?
“Khivar,” Isabella greets him with a slight bow. “It is a great honor to meet you.” Maxwell can tell Isabella is very uneasy, but she does not dare upset the man. Who knows what he can do to you? The man can get away with murder … and probably has … many, many times.
“It is a pleasure to meet you, as well,” Maxwell says as he extends a hand for Khivar to shake.
“Likewise,” Khivar says to Isabella, completely ignoring Maxwell. “But, it will be an even greater honor for you to share a dance with me.” Khivar extends his hand for Isabella to accept.
Isabella glances at it, unsure of what to do. She does not like that look on Khivar’s face. Nor does she like the way Khivar is eyeing her. But what else can she do?
Isabella squeezes her eyes shut as she slowly and shakily slips her hand into his. Khivar leads her out toward the center of the room. She glances back pleadingly at Maxwell. Praying that Maxwell will think of something … anything … to rescue her from this situation with Khivar.
Maxwell silently apologizes to her for the predicament she is in and nods his head, assuring her he will do his best to come up with a way to help her, like she does for him.
Maxwell’s mind works as he watches Khivar pull Isabella into a close embrace … a little too close … far too close … and begins swaying to the music. Maxwell can always ‘accidentally’ spill punch on Khivar. But Khivar will be positively enraged if he happens to be soaked in punch. An angry Khivar is not a good Khivar. And there is the slight chance of getting Isabella wet as well. There is a definite chance of getting Isabella stained, seeing as how Khivar is now manhandling her.
Maxwell’s blood boils. In Maxwell’s eyes, Isabella already belongs to Alexander. It might have been fine if the person touching her is his younger brother. If Isabella wants to be touched, that is. But even Alexander should not be grabbing at a young lady like that.
Maxwell cannot handle it any longer. He starts towards them. Isabella sees him coming and her eyes widen. She shakes her head at him, signaling for him not to interfere. Maxwell is hesitant, but backs down and moves back toward the side of the ballroom, walking toward the bar.
The barkeep hands him a drink. He gulps it down and hangs his head low, irritated that he cannot do a thing.
“Yes, I feel your pain,” comes a voice beside Maxwell.
Maxwell looks up and sees James standing with a drink in his hand.
“I want more than anything to walk up to them and break them apart,” James says, pointing towards Isabella and Khivar. “But even I cannot interfere.”
“Why not?” Maxwell asks. “You are her father. And you are also the Governor.”
“That is still not enough,” James says, shaking his head. “Khivar is … infamous for his zero tolerance of anyone who gets in his way of getting what he wants. He has numerous resources at his fingertips, being the King’s brother. Mercenaries, businessmen, law makers, the whole crowd.”
“Really?” Maxwell asks, glancing back toward the two on the dance floor.
“Yes,” James sighs out. “I think he even has Sean working for him.”
“Deluca?” Maxwell asks, his anger rising more. “Deluca is working for Khivar?” Maxwell’s mind is whirling. “Do you … do you think that Sean and Khivar may have something to do with Elizabeth?”
“Maxwell …” James starts, shaking his head.
“I know,” Maxwell says, interrupting James, “I know the doctor says that it is because Elizabeth is not eating, but I just cannot remove the image of Sean standing over Elizabeth’s slumped body in the alley from my head. What if he does something to her?” Maxwell asks, fear creeping up his spine.
“Maxwell …” James places a hand on Maxwell’s shoulder. “She will be fine.”
Maxwell takes a deep breath. “I know. I just wish for her to wake already.”
“You cannot rush these things,” James says sympathetically. “Now, if you will excuse me, I need to go and get a cup of punch, the redder the better.”
“You already have a drink,” Maxwell says, pointing towards the glass in James’s hands.
“The punch is not for me. It is for him,” James says, tilting his head in Khivar’s direction. “Or, rather, his nice shirt.” James smiles a conniving grin and walks toward the punch table.
Maxwell laughs and shakes his head. The Governor will get himself into a great deal of trouble with what he is planning to do, but does Maxwell really expect James to stand around passively while his daughter is being harassed by a man, no matter who he is? No. A father will do anything to keep his children out of harm’s way. He just has to look at his own father, who will endure any amount of torture, if it means his sons’ happiness.
And Maxwell will do just the same thing for his children, if he has children … when he has children, Maxwell thinks with a smile. He will have a perfect family. A more than perfect family … with Elizabeth. His Elizabeth. It will be great, Maxwell thinks as a goofy grin begins to form on his face, like it always does when he thinks of her. They are going to be amazing parents, so loving. Elizabeth will make a great mother. She will have the family she wants, he will give it to her. If she will just wake up!
Maxwell becomes frustrated again. He groans. How much longer does he have to be here? He does not know if he can endure any more. Maxwell makes up his mind. He is leaving. He is going home … home to Elizabeth. A goofy grin forms on his face again.
How does she do it? How does she manage to captivate him so? It is as though he were under a spell. As though she were forcing him to think thoughts of her … and only of her … of the way her rich brown hair cascades down her back … her smooth silky skin … the way her eyes sparkle when she is happy … the way her perfect pink lips curve upwards when she smiles … how badly he wants to be the one to make her smile.
Maxwell groans again. He slams his drink down and pushes away from the bar. He takes thunderous and deliberate steps as he heads toward the door. He is going to Elizabeth, anyone in his way be damned, especially if it is Sean. He still has a score to settle with him.
Maxwell is on his way out the door when a hand grazing his arm stops him.
“Maxwell, I have been looking everywhere for you …”
Maxwell looks back at the person behind him. He groans and spins around.
“Maria …” he whines. “I am on a mission.”
Maria giggles. “Mission?” she asks, wiggling her eyebrows at him.
“Maria …” Maxwell says, wanting to leave, now.
“I apologize, Agent Evans,” Maria says, chuckling and pushing him towards the ballroom. “But your mission has been postponed. You have bigger issues concerning you right now.”
“Like what?” Maxwell asks, skeptical of the notion of something being more important than Elizabeth.
“It is Alexander …” Maria says gravely.
Maxwell’s ears peak, putting Elizabeth aside for a moment. He never said that Elizabeth is more important than his duties as an older brother, to protect Alexander. They are both of equal importance to him. But Alexander needs him right now.
“What is the matter with Alexander?” Maxwell asks, anxiety creeping up on him.
“Take a look for yourself,” Maria says as she points toward the dance floor. “Michael is trying to talk some sense into him, but he will not listen. At least, Michael has managed to hold him back. But we need you to talk to him, Maxwell.”
Maxwell rushes over to the area in which Maria directs him to and sees a very upset Alexander. He is more than upset. He looks like a rabid dog, ready to attack. Michael is barely able to hold him back, despite how much larger Michael is than Alexander. Maxwell looks toward where Alexander is glaring, his eyes practically leading a dotted line towards the middle of the dance floor, where Khivar and Isabella are dancing.
Maxwell hurries over to his younger brother. “Alexander …”
Alexander jerks his head toward Maxwell, fuming. And for the first time in his life, Maxwell is actually a tad bit scared of his younger brother. Alexander looks as though he can rip Khivar to shreds.
“Thank goodness, Maxwell,” Michael says upon seeing Maxwell walk up to them. “Here,” Michael pushes Alexander over toward Maxwell a little, but still keeping a firm grip on him. “See if you can knock some sense into him. Apparently, he does not believe me when I say that he will be killed if he tries to do anything to Khivar.”
“I am willing to risk it,” Alexander bites out through clenched teeth.
Michael laughs. “You may be willing to risk your life, but we are not willing to risk losing you over this.”
“Look at him,” Alexander spits, his face scrounging up in disgust. “Look at the way he is touching her. She does not want to be anywhere near him.”
“Alexander,” Maxwell grabs his younger brother by the shoulders and looks him square in the eyes. “You cannot go over there and anger Khivar.”
“Why not?” Alexander whines out.
“Because, Khivar can say one word and you will be dead. Do you really want that?” Maxwell asks him honestly. “I know I will not. Neither will Michael, mother or father. And I sure as hell know that Isabella will not want that either. How are you to protect her if there is no one to protect you?”
Alexander stops struggling against Michael and stares down at the ground, taking deep breaths, trying to calm his anger with deep breaths.
Maxwell closes his eyes and takes a deep breath as well, glad to have calmed Alexander. He snaps his eyes open when he hears a loud gasp.
“Oh … oh my goodness … I sincerely apologize.”
All three of the boys look up to see the Governor standing beside Khivar and Isabella with an empty punch glass in his hand. “I apologize greatly. I was not watching where I was going. Please forgive me, your Highness.”
Khivar looks down at the red stain on his clothes, and then back up at the Governor. His eyes narrow and he grinds his teeth ever so slightly. In a normal situation, Khivar will have had the man annihilated immediately, not caring if the man is the Governor or not.
But in this situation, he has everyone’s eyes on him, waiting for his reaction. His brother is also looking on from a far, waiting. Khivar weighs his options. To demolish the Governor and gain everyone’s hatred and be dubbed as an evil ruler. Or to not demolish the man. Khivar gives in.
He starts laughing. No one on the entire estate expects it. They all believe that Khivar was going to have the Governor decapitated right before their eyes. And are they ever glad they are wrong.
“Well, this has been a very eventful night,” Khivar says towards the Governor.
James lets out a sigh of relief. “Lets me call a servant and we will get you cleaned up and into another suit.”
“That is quite alright,” Khivar says, stopping James. “I was just about to leave. I have some … business … to attend to,” a corrupt grin appears on his face.
“Well, then, if you must leave, I will have a servant call a carriage for you,” James offers.
“I have my own,” Khivar calls back, already walking out the door.
“Just send me the cleaning bill and I will take care of it,” James proposes.
“Quite all right, really,” and Khivar is out the door.
Everyone releases the breath they are holding.
James plops into a chair, running a hand over his face. “Unbelievable … tonight certainly has been one hell of a night, and it is not even over.” Valenti mutters as he leans back in his chair.
Suddenly, a few of the candles are blown out, dimming the room even more. A low strumming of a guitar is heard, coming from the band area. Everyone turns around towar the stage. There, up on the landing, is Alexander, playing with the rest of the band. Everyone looks on, amazed.
“This is a song I wrote, with the help of a good friend, for a very special person whom I care deeply about … Isabella,” her name slips through his lips, he had not meant for it to.
There is a moment of silence as they stare at each other from the distance. Isabella cannot believe what is happening. This is one of the most embarrassing moments of her life, but it is also the sweetest. She wants to rush up there and kiss him senseless. Alexander is too good to her.
After he breaks from his daze, Alexander clears his throat, nods to the rest of the band behind him, and begins strumming his guitar.
“This ball grows stranger and stranger,” Maria mutters under her breath as Alexander’s music soothes her.
“You wished for a night to remember,” Michael whispers into her ear as he wraps his arms around her from behind. “And I have a feeling that this is one that you will never forget.”
Maria twists around in his arms, looks in his eyes, and kisses him softly before leaning up and whispering into his ear, “Never.” She then leans her head onto his shoulder and they begin swaying to the music.
Maxwell looks about him as other couples begin dancing. He has never felt lonelier in his life. God, he wishes Elizabeth were here. Perhaps … perhaps if he simply … if he closes his eyes really tight … perhaps …
Maxwell does so, but then snaps them back open when he hears murmuring around him and a few gasps. What is going on now, he thinks as he tries to find out what has caught everyone’s attention this time. He follows their lines of vision toward the staircase, still not sure as to everyone’s speechless gawking.
His gaze travels upward until they reach the top few steps when Maxwell’s eyes bulge at what he sees. Like everyone else, Maxwell can do nothing but stare in awe at the sight before him. He … it is … indescribable. There, at the top of the steps …
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Accept the Challenge (AU, CC, TEEN) COMPLETE [2/11]
Moderators: Anniepoo98, Rowedog, ISLANDGIRL5, Itzstacie, truelovepooh, FSU/MSW-94, Erina, Hunter, Forum Moderators
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Chapter Thirty:
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“So much for sneaking down unnoticed,” she whispers under her breath as she scans over the ballroom below her. She has everyone’s gaze on her as they openly gawk. Even the band stops playing and gapes up at her. She fidgets nervously, not liking to be the center of attention.
Then, she spots him. He looks so handsome … all dressed up … like Prince Charming. She smiles at her analogy. It suits him perfectly. He is sweet, kind, charming, loyal, all neatly wrapped in a perfect package. And his eyes … what girl will not be captivated by them? They seem to put a spell on her whenever she catches his gaze, making her melt with just a glance.
Then, she sees his eyes traveling upward until they lock with hers. Her breath catches in her throat at the intensity of his gaze. She watches on as the corners of his lips curve into a smile, the same one he always gives her.
Even from where she stands, on the second floor, she can see his emotions through his eyes. It is as though he is bearing his soul through them. How can someone have so much emotion flickering through their eyes? But then again, there is no one quite like him.
“Well, here goes nothing,” she murmurs to herself as she begins descending the stairs, careful not to fall, but her gaze never leaves his.
The music starts up again. At least, he thinks it does. But he can be imagining it. His imagination does tend to run wild when she is near. He watches as she slowly moves down the stairs, like an angel … his angel … floating down towards him.
He gravitates toward her as well, just as slowly, afraid that, if he makes too sudden a movement, she might disappear.
Her white gown fits perfectly to her body as it flows about her. She really is an angel. He must be dreaming. How can someone be this perfect if not existing in a dream? But even if this is a dream, he is still going to take full advantage of this moment. He pats his jacket, making certain the bracelet is still there. Maria is right, his gift goes perfectly with her gown. Not that she needs the extra accessory, she is already gorgeous enough on a normal day.
The last few steps take a little more effort on her part. She has to slow down her already slow pace to catch her breath. She still feels a tad bit weak, but she is not going to allow that to stop her. It has taken a lot of persuading to get her here tonight, and she is going to enjoy the most of it that she can.
Tess sees the ravenous beauty as she descends the stairs, curious to know whom she is. As she comes closer, Tess notices her eyes are locked on something in the room, or rather, someone. She looks over to the direction of her gaze and sees that she is staring lovingly at Maxwell. But what Tess notices more, is that Maxwell is staring right back at the mysterious stranger, with the exact same look in his eyes.
Tess storms over to the stairs. She is going to stop this right now and show that hussy that Maxwell is hers, not anyone else’s. She brushes past Maxwell and reaches the bottom of the stairs just before he does.
Maxwell breaks the gaze between he and his angel when he feels someone bump into him. He sees Tess rush past him, toward the stairs. He looks at her, curious to what she is doing when he sees it. He sees exactly what Tess is planning. There are only a few more steps left, and Tess is there, at the bottom of the steps, her dress hiked up a bit, and her foot extended out, ready to trip the love of his life. And all the while, his love being oblivious to it all, because her eyes remain on him.
Only a few more steps, she tells herself. Almost there, and at the bottom, she will catch her breath. She supposes that there must be a long journey in order to reach a great prize like the one at the end of hers. She is down to the last step, but as she lifts her foot to carefully place it on the ground, it catches on something. Unfortunately for her, she realizes it too late. Her left foot gives out. She is already losing her balance and tumbling forward.
She takes a sharp intake of breath as she closes her eyes and braces herself, bringing her hands out in front of her, trying to help block the fall … but it never comes. Instead, her hands come in contact with something softer than the hard floor she had expected to feel.
Maxwell’s hands instinctively come up to grab her around her waist as he holds her up.
She slowly opens her eyes and meets those of his, mere inches away. Once their eyes meet, their gaze lock and they are drawn into each other, staring intently. Emotions are rolling off in waves.
The rest of the guests still stare on, waiting for a reaction. They notice the deep stares, the longing in both of their eyes, the comforting silence between the two. Like a princess, finally being reunited with her prince, after being separated for years. Both lovers are rendered speechless, not certain of what to say.
Maxwell still cannot believe his eyes. He is totally engrossed in his angel. His arms still have yet to remove themselves from her waist. Hers still remain on his shoulders.
She finally comes out of her daze when he hears a loud huff, and sees an angry little blonde storming off. She turns her head back to look at Maxwell and finds that he has never taken his eyes off of her. It is very unnerving but exciting at the same time. Her heart beats away, a mile a minute.
She finally notices where her hands are and quickly removes them from his firm shoulders muttering a quiet, “Oh,” and looking down, abashed. But Maxwell’s hands refuse to release her and remain around her waist.
She can feel herself being drawn in closer. She looks up and meets his intense and steady gaze. “Maxwell,” she murmurs softly, unaware that she spoke out loud.
His breathing becomes more labored as he hears her whisper his name. Hoping he is not imagining the longing that is put into the word, the same longing he feels for her. So many emotions are running through him as her name softly rolls off his tongue, “Elizabeth …”
“Elizabeth …” he speaks in a hushed whisper, speaking any louder seems inappropriate. “What are you doing here?”
“You are not going to change your mind about escorting me now, are you?” she jokes with him but a sudden realization comes to her. “Oh, you probably accompanied someone else here, did you not? I-I apologize. I did not mean to intrude.”
Maxwell stares at her, yet to comprehend what she is saying.
“Is it … is it that girl … a while ago … with the blonde hair? I-I will just … leave.” She starts to slowly back away from him, looking about nervously. But his hold on her stays firm, yet oddly gentle.
He shakes his head slowly, smiling at her. “No, Elizabeth,” he whispers to her. “Do not go.”
Elizabeth stops backing away from him, lifts her head and looks into his eyes. He practically glows. He looks so … happy. His lips curve up as he looks at her intently. Elizabeth cannot help but smile back at him.
“I am not here with anyone else,” he keeps his voice low and speaks softly, soothingly. “I cannot dream of going with anyone but you.”
“Really?” Elizabeth asks, smiling. She is surprised by his words. Does he truly mean them? Does he honestly care for her?
Maxwell nods his head slowly. Everything he does, he does softly and slowly, as if in a dream. “Truly,” he answers, taking a small step closer to her. He smiles at her, a genuine and full smile. When she smiles back, he lowers his head.
Elizabeth gasps softly, suddenly not certain what to do. Maxwell is lowering his head as though to kiss her. She has never been kissed before. She closes her eyes and runs her tongue over her suddenly dry lips.
Maxwell watches her as she licks her lips. He has to catch himself before he does something he yearns to do, but is unsure if it is what she wants. He wants to kiss her lips, but settles for simply being in her presence.
He leans his forehead against hers and watches her as her eyes flutter open. It is probably his imagination when he sees her pout her lip a bit, seemingly disappointed. Did-did she … want … him to kiss her? Maxwell kicks himself for losing such an amazing opportunity.
He suddenly lets out a deep sigh and gazes down at her with a sad expression on his face.
“Is something the matter?” she asks, concerned at the sudden woeful look in his eyes.
He nods his head lightly, eyes cast down. He lifts his forehead from hers and finally looks into her eyes. “You should not be here, Elizabeth,” Maxwell says, hating to have to say this to her. The sadness that enters her eyes is enough to make him kick himself for making the smile disappear from her face. “You should be in bed, resting.”
Elizabeth suddenly has a mischievous look in her eyes as she speaks. “But you are not going to make me leave, are you?” she challenges him.
“Elizabeth …” he moans. “You know I want you to stay. But …” he fights between his logical self and his selfish self. Nevertheless, his heart wins the battle. Elizabeth should be resting, not exhausting herself simply for his sake.
Her lips pouts in a way that Maxwell thinks is absolutely adorable. “Please Maxwell,” she pleads with him.
The quivering lip is enough to break him down. Now he knows why his mother always has her way with his father. How can you say no to someone who means the world to you? Sadly, Maxwell knows he must do the right thing. He must. It will be better in the end. It will be better to have her recover completely, soon, than to risk it.
“Please Maxwell,” she beseeches him again, seeing that he is starting to crumble. “Please do not send me away.”
“Elizabeth …” Maxwell moans again.
“I just want for you to see me in my dress,” Elizabeth whispers softly, her eyes downcast as she sighs. “To dance with you, just once.”
That does it. What little resolve Maxwell has, deteriorates. He lifts his hand from her waist, grazing it along her bare arm and shoulder, sending chills down her spine, as he lifts her head gently with his finger, forcing her to look up at him.
Her eyes sparkle in the dim light of the room … sparkling with unshed tears, causing Maxwell to hate himself even more for ever denying her anything.
He smiles apologetically to her as he leans his head in closer to her to whisper in her ear, “just one.”
Elizabeth smiles up at him, blinking away her tears. She slips her hand into Maxwell’s as he leads her to the dance floor.
Everyone around the room sighs at the heartfelt scene before them before they return to their mingling and dancing, wanting to give Maxwell and Elizabeth their privacy. Elizabeth looking awfully familiar to them, but they cannot quite put their fingers on it.
The crowd seems to part and clear as Maxwell leads Elizabeth onto the dance floor. He settles on an area near the center of the room before he turns around to Elizabeth.
She places her other hand on his shoulder, like she was taught, as Maxwell places his free hand on her waist, pulling her closer to his body. They sway to the music, completely in tune with each other.
After a few seconds, after he can sense that Elizabeth is completely comfortable with it, he brings Elizabeth’s hand up around his neck, and puts his arm around Elizabeth’s back, his hands completely encircling Elizabeth’s waist. He pulls their bodies closer and leans his chin to rest lightly on Elizabeth’s shoulder, liking the feel of her silky smooth skin under his.
Elizabeth tenses at first, but then relaxes in Maxwell’s comforting embrace, leaning her head on his shoulder with a sigh of content and closes her eyes. They dance for several songs, neither notice though. Maxwell completely overlooks his agreeing to only one dance. When Elizabeth suddenly lifts her head from Maxwell’s shoulder, he lifts his head as well and looks down at her, alarmed.
“What is the matter?” his concern growing. “Are you tired. I can take you home. I should not have kept you out here.”
Elizabeth frowns and shakes her head. “I do not want to leave yet, Maxwell. I am not tired.”
“What is it then?” Maxwell asks, glad that she does not want to leave him, just yet.
“Oh … I was just … curious about … what is this?” she asks, poking at the bracelet box in the inside pocket of Maxwell’s jacket.
“Oh … that …” Maxwell says, blushing and flustered. “That is just … it is just …” He takes a deep breath, knowing fully well that he needs to articulate his words for Elizabeth to hear them.
“It is a …” Maxwell pauses. He looks about him at the crowded room, deciding that this is not where he wants to be when he declares his love to Elizabeth. He wants to have her all alone, all to himself. “Let us get out of here,” he says with a mischievous smile on his face. “Would you like to join me for a stroll in the gardens, Miss Parker?”
“I love to, Mr. Evans,” she says with a smile as she slips her hand into his, for him to lead the way.
“Good,” Maxwell says, smiling widely. “There are some … matters … I have been meaning to discuss with you.”
“Like what?” Elizabeth asks as they step out into the crisp and cool night air.
“Well … it is just that I …” Maxwell starts, but decides that they should sit before he tells her.
He spots a bench and leads them to it, motioning for her to sit. Elizabeth shivers as she settles herself down on the bench. Seeing this, Maxwell shrugs off his jacket and places it around Elizabeth’s shoulders with a smile, his hands lingering on her a little longer than necessary.
“Thank you,” Elizabeth says, looking at him as he sits beside her.
“You are welcome,” he replies back. “Like I was saying …”
“Oh my,” Elizabeth exclaims as she stares down at the bracelet in her hands.
“Oh, yes,” Maxwell says, forgetting about the bracelet he bought for her.
“Oh, I apologize,” Elizabeth says, snapping the box shut. “I did not mean to … I was curious.” She holds the box out for him and looks away. He probably bought it for that other girl, the blonde one he was most likely spending the evening with earlier, until she showed up and ruined his plans.
“No, it is fine,” Maxwell says with a shy smile. “I bought it … for you.”
“Really?” Elizabeth asks, lifting her head to look at him, shocked that he will buy, simple little her, something that probably cost him more money than she has ever seen in her entire life.
“Yes. Here let me help you.” He snaps open the box and gently removes the bracelet. Elizabeth holds out her arm and he fastens it gently around her small wrist. “How do you like it?”
Elizabeth twists her hand around, watching the diamonds sparkle in the moonlight. “It is beautiful,” she smiles. But her face soon drops. “Maxwell, I cannot accept this. It probably cost you a fortune.” She holds her hand out for Maxwell to remove the bracelet.
Maxwell takes her hand, but does not unfasten the bracelet. He intertwines his fingers with hers. “No, Elizabeth. I bought it for you. Please accept it.”
Elizabeth is still unsure. She shakes her head, biting her lower lip. “I cannot. I do not understand … why would you waste so much money on me? I do not deserve to wear something this beautiful.”
“Elizabeth, you are the most incredible person. And you are right. You do not deserve that bracelet. You deserve so much more,” Maxwell says sincerely, making certain she hears every word he says. Elizabeth needs to believe in herself, and Maxwell is going to help her to see just how incredible she really is.
“The reason I bought this for you … is because … I …” Maxwell takes a deep breath. It is now or never and Maxwell is going to do it. He is going to take the plunge. He licks his lips and takes another deep breath to prepare himself. “It is because … I love you, Elizabeth …”
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Chapter Thirty:
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“So much for sneaking down unnoticed,” she whispers under her breath as she scans over the ballroom below her. She has everyone’s gaze on her as they openly gawk. Even the band stops playing and gapes up at her. She fidgets nervously, not liking to be the center of attention.
Then, she spots him. He looks so handsome … all dressed up … like Prince Charming. She smiles at her analogy. It suits him perfectly. He is sweet, kind, charming, loyal, all neatly wrapped in a perfect package. And his eyes … what girl will not be captivated by them? They seem to put a spell on her whenever she catches his gaze, making her melt with just a glance.
Then, she sees his eyes traveling upward until they lock with hers. Her breath catches in her throat at the intensity of his gaze. She watches on as the corners of his lips curve into a smile, the same one he always gives her.
Even from where she stands, on the second floor, she can see his emotions through his eyes. It is as though he is bearing his soul through them. How can someone have so much emotion flickering through their eyes? But then again, there is no one quite like him.
“Well, here goes nothing,” she murmurs to herself as she begins descending the stairs, careful not to fall, but her gaze never leaves his.
The music starts up again. At least, he thinks it does. But he can be imagining it. His imagination does tend to run wild when she is near. He watches as she slowly moves down the stairs, like an angel … his angel … floating down towards him.
He gravitates toward her as well, just as slowly, afraid that, if he makes too sudden a movement, she might disappear.
Her white gown fits perfectly to her body as it flows about her. She really is an angel. He must be dreaming. How can someone be this perfect if not existing in a dream? But even if this is a dream, he is still going to take full advantage of this moment. He pats his jacket, making certain the bracelet is still there. Maria is right, his gift goes perfectly with her gown. Not that she needs the extra accessory, she is already gorgeous enough on a normal day.
The last few steps take a little more effort on her part. She has to slow down her already slow pace to catch her breath. She still feels a tad bit weak, but she is not going to allow that to stop her. It has taken a lot of persuading to get her here tonight, and she is going to enjoy the most of it that she can.
Tess sees the ravenous beauty as she descends the stairs, curious to know whom she is. As she comes closer, Tess notices her eyes are locked on something in the room, or rather, someone. She looks over to the direction of her gaze and sees that she is staring lovingly at Maxwell. But what Tess notices more, is that Maxwell is staring right back at the mysterious stranger, with the exact same look in his eyes.
Tess storms over to the stairs. She is going to stop this right now and show that hussy that Maxwell is hers, not anyone else’s. She brushes past Maxwell and reaches the bottom of the stairs just before he does.
Maxwell breaks the gaze between he and his angel when he feels someone bump into him. He sees Tess rush past him, toward the stairs. He looks at her, curious to what she is doing when he sees it. He sees exactly what Tess is planning. There are only a few more steps left, and Tess is there, at the bottom of the steps, her dress hiked up a bit, and her foot extended out, ready to trip the love of his life. And all the while, his love being oblivious to it all, because her eyes remain on him.
Only a few more steps, she tells herself. Almost there, and at the bottom, she will catch her breath. She supposes that there must be a long journey in order to reach a great prize like the one at the end of hers. She is down to the last step, but as she lifts her foot to carefully place it on the ground, it catches on something. Unfortunately for her, she realizes it too late. Her left foot gives out. She is already losing her balance and tumbling forward.
She takes a sharp intake of breath as she closes her eyes and braces herself, bringing her hands out in front of her, trying to help block the fall … but it never comes. Instead, her hands come in contact with something softer than the hard floor she had expected to feel.
Maxwell’s hands instinctively come up to grab her around her waist as he holds her up.
She slowly opens her eyes and meets those of his, mere inches away. Once their eyes meet, their gaze lock and they are drawn into each other, staring intently. Emotions are rolling off in waves.
The rest of the guests still stare on, waiting for a reaction. They notice the deep stares, the longing in both of their eyes, the comforting silence between the two. Like a princess, finally being reunited with her prince, after being separated for years. Both lovers are rendered speechless, not certain of what to say.
Maxwell still cannot believe his eyes. He is totally engrossed in his angel. His arms still have yet to remove themselves from her waist. Hers still remain on his shoulders.
She finally comes out of her daze when he hears a loud huff, and sees an angry little blonde storming off. She turns her head back to look at Maxwell and finds that he has never taken his eyes off of her. It is very unnerving but exciting at the same time. Her heart beats away, a mile a minute.
She finally notices where her hands are and quickly removes them from his firm shoulders muttering a quiet, “Oh,” and looking down, abashed. But Maxwell’s hands refuse to release her and remain around her waist.
She can feel herself being drawn in closer. She looks up and meets his intense and steady gaze. “Maxwell,” she murmurs softly, unaware that she spoke out loud.
His breathing becomes more labored as he hears her whisper his name. Hoping he is not imagining the longing that is put into the word, the same longing he feels for her. So many emotions are running through him as her name softly rolls off his tongue, “Elizabeth …”
“Elizabeth …” he speaks in a hushed whisper, speaking any louder seems inappropriate. “What are you doing here?”
“You are not going to change your mind about escorting me now, are you?” she jokes with him but a sudden realization comes to her. “Oh, you probably accompanied someone else here, did you not? I-I apologize. I did not mean to intrude.”
Maxwell stares at her, yet to comprehend what she is saying.
“Is it … is it that girl … a while ago … with the blonde hair? I-I will just … leave.” She starts to slowly back away from him, looking about nervously. But his hold on her stays firm, yet oddly gentle.
He shakes his head slowly, smiling at her. “No, Elizabeth,” he whispers to her. “Do not go.”
Elizabeth stops backing away from him, lifts her head and looks into his eyes. He practically glows. He looks so … happy. His lips curve up as he looks at her intently. Elizabeth cannot help but smile back at him.
“I am not here with anyone else,” he keeps his voice low and speaks softly, soothingly. “I cannot dream of going with anyone but you.”
“Really?” Elizabeth asks, smiling. She is surprised by his words. Does he truly mean them? Does he honestly care for her?
Maxwell nods his head slowly. Everything he does, he does softly and slowly, as if in a dream. “Truly,” he answers, taking a small step closer to her. He smiles at her, a genuine and full smile. When she smiles back, he lowers his head.
Elizabeth gasps softly, suddenly not certain what to do. Maxwell is lowering his head as though to kiss her. She has never been kissed before. She closes her eyes and runs her tongue over her suddenly dry lips.
Maxwell watches her as she licks her lips. He has to catch himself before he does something he yearns to do, but is unsure if it is what she wants. He wants to kiss her lips, but settles for simply being in her presence.
He leans his forehead against hers and watches her as her eyes flutter open. It is probably his imagination when he sees her pout her lip a bit, seemingly disappointed. Did-did she … want … him to kiss her? Maxwell kicks himself for losing such an amazing opportunity.
He suddenly lets out a deep sigh and gazes down at her with a sad expression on his face.
“Is something the matter?” she asks, concerned at the sudden woeful look in his eyes.
He nods his head lightly, eyes cast down. He lifts his forehead from hers and finally looks into her eyes. “You should not be here, Elizabeth,” Maxwell says, hating to have to say this to her. The sadness that enters her eyes is enough to make him kick himself for making the smile disappear from her face. “You should be in bed, resting.”
Elizabeth suddenly has a mischievous look in her eyes as she speaks. “But you are not going to make me leave, are you?” she challenges him.
“Elizabeth …” he moans. “You know I want you to stay. But …” he fights between his logical self and his selfish self. Nevertheless, his heart wins the battle. Elizabeth should be resting, not exhausting herself simply for his sake.
Her lips pouts in a way that Maxwell thinks is absolutely adorable. “Please Maxwell,” she pleads with him.
The quivering lip is enough to break him down. Now he knows why his mother always has her way with his father. How can you say no to someone who means the world to you? Sadly, Maxwell knows he must do the right thing. He must. It will be better in the end. It will be better to have her recover completely, soon, than to risk it.
“Please Maxwell,” she beseeches him again, seeing that he is starting to crumble. “Please do not send me away.”
“Elizabeth …” Maxwell moans again.
“I just want for you to see me in my dress,” Elizabeth whispers softly, her eyes downcast as she sighs. “To dance with you, just once.”
That does it. What little resolve Maxwell has, deteriorates. He lifts his hand from her waist, grazing it along her bare arm and shoulder, sending chills down her spine, as he lifts her head gently with his finger, forcing her to look up at him.
Her eyes sparkle in the dim light of the room … sparkling with unshed tears, causing Maxwell to hate himself even more for ever denying her anything.
He smiles apologetically to her as he leans his head in closer to her to whisper in her ear, “just one.”
Elizabeth smiles up at him, blinking away her tears. She slips her hand into Maxwell’s as he leads her to the dance floor.
Everyone around the room sighs at the heartfelt scene before them before they return to their mingling and dancing, wanting to give Maxwell and Elizabeth their privacy. Elizabeth looking awfully familiar to them, but they cannot quite put their fingers on it.
The crowd seems to part and clear as Maxwell leads Elizabeth onto the dance floor. He settles on an area near the center of the room before he turns around to Elizabeth.
She places her other hand on his shoulder, like she was taught, as Maxwell places his free hand on her waist, pulling her closer to his body. They sway to the music, completely in tune with each other.
After a few seconds, after he can sense that Elizabeth is completely comfortable with it, he brings Elizabeth’s hand up around his neck, and puts his arm around Elizabeth’s back, his hands completely encircling Elizabeth’s waist. He pulls their bodies closer and leans his chin to rest lightly on Elizabeth’s shoulder, liking the feel of her silky smooth skin under his.
Elizabeth tenses at first, but then relaxes in Maxwell’s comforting embrace, leaning her head on his shoulder with a sigh of content and closes her eyes. They dance for several songs, neither notice though. Maxwell completely overlooks his agreeing to only one dance. When Elizabeth suddenly lifts her head from Maxwell’s shoulder, he lifts his head as well and looks down at her, alarmed.
“What is the matter?” his concern growing. “Are you tired. I can take you home. I should not have kept you out here.”
Elizabeth frowns and shakes her head. “I do not want to leave yet, Maxwell. I am not tired.”
“What is it then?” Maxwell asks, glad that she does not want to leave him, just yet.
“Oh … I was just … curious about … what is this?” she asks, poking at the bracelet box in the inside pocket of Maxwell’s jacket.
“Oh … that …” Maxwell says, blushing and flustered. “That is just … it is just …” He takes a deep breath, knowing fully well that he needs to articulate his words for Elizabeth to hear them.
“It is a …” Maxwell pauses. He looks about him at the crowded room, deciding that this is not where he wants to be when he declares his love to Elizabeth. He wants to have her all alone, all to himself. “Let us get out of here,” he says with a mischievous smile on his face. “Would you like to join me for a stroll in the gardens, Miss Parker?”
“I love to, Mr. Evans,” she says with a smile as she slips her hand into his, for him to lead the way.
“Good,” Maxwell says, smiling widely. “There are some … matters … I have been meaning to discuss with you.”
“Like what?” Elizabeth asks as they step out into the crisp and cool night air.
“Well … it is just that I …” Maxwell starts, but decides that they should sit before he tells her.
He spots a bench and leads them to it, motioning for her to sit. Elizabeth shivers as she settles herself down on the bench. Seeing this, Maxwell shrugs off his jacket and places it around Elizabeth’s shoulders with a smile, his hands lingering on her a little longer than necessary.
“Thank you,” Elizabeth says, looking at him as he sits beside her.
“You are welcome,” he replies back. “Like I was saying …”
“Oh my,” Elizabeth exclaims as she stares down at the bracelet in her hands.
“Oh, yes,” Maxwell says, forgetting about the bracelet he bought for her.
“Oh, I apologize,” Elizabeth says, snapping the box shut. “I did not mean to … I was curious.” She holds the box out for him and looks away. He probably bought it for that other girl, the blonde one he was most likely spending the evening with earlier, until she showed up and ruined his plans.
“No, it is fine,” Maxwell says with a shy smile. “I bought it … for you.”
“Really?” Elizabeth asks, lifting her head to look at him, shocked that he will buy, simple little her, something that probably cost him more money than she has ever seen in her entire life.
“Yes. Here let me help you.” He snaps open the box and gently removes the bracelet. Elizabeth holds out her arm and he fastens it gently around her small wrist. “How do you like it?”
Elizabeth twists her hand around, watching the diamonds sparkle in the moonlight. “It is beautiful,” she smiles. But her face soon drops. “Maxwell, I cannot accept this. It probably cost you a fortune.” She holds her hand out for Maxwell to remove the bracelet.
Maxwell takes her hand, but does not unfasten the bracelet. He intertwines his fingers with hers. “No, Elizabeth. I bought it for you. Please accept it.”
Elizabeth is still unsure. She shakes her head, biting her lower lip. “I cannot. I do not understand … why would you waste so much money on me? I do not deserve to wear something this beautiful.”
“Elizabeth, you are the most incredible person. And you are right. You do not deserve that bracelet. You deserve so much more,” Maxwell says sincerely, making certain she hears every word he says. Elizabeth needs to believe in herself, and Maxwell is going to help her to see just how incredible she really is.
“The reason I bought this for you … is because … I …” Maxwell takes a deep breath. It is now or never and Maxwell is going to do it. He is going to take the plunge. He licks his lips and takes another deep breath to prepare himself. “It is because … I love you, Elizabeth …”
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Chapter Thirty One:
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“Elizabeth?” Maxwell begins to panic. After he has said what he has been dying to say to her, she just gasps a little and remains quiet. “D-Did you hear what I said?”
“Huh?” Elizabeth asks, coming out of her daze. She does not know how to respond. How is she to respond to something like this?
“Elizabeth, I … I said … I love you,” Maxwell says, staring at her intently, trying to read her thoughts, to feel how she is feeling. “I have loved you since the moment I first saw you, by the river that day,” Maxwell admits, smiling in remembrance of that day, so long ago. It seems like years ago, not mere weeks.
He is silently praying to the gods above to please give him this. Just this one moment of happiness and he will not ask for anything else. He will be content for life.
Elizabeth stares at him with her mouth hanging open again, before turning her head away, biting her bottom lip as it quivers slightly. “Oh,” she remarks softly, almost inaudibly.
“Oh?” Maxwell asks, his voice quivering. “W-wha … what do you mean, Elizabeth?” He has no idea what is going on in her mind. Elizabeth normally wears her emotions on her sleeve but he cannot gage any of her feelings with her looking away from him like this.
“Elizabeth …” Maxwell whispers. He uses his free hand to clasp her chin and gently forces her head up to look at him. He locks gaze with her and takes in all he can. He tries to read her eyes for any emotions, and what he sees makes him crumble. Her eyes are pleading with him … begging him for forgiveness. They are filled with sorrow, with regret … with … pity.
Maxwell cannot keep the hurt from coming. His heartache washes over him in wave after wave of sorrow. Drowning him in despair. She pities him … for loving her? How can she pity him?
Of course she can. She has every right to. She is an incredible, gorgeous being. So sweet. So kind. So above everyone else. Unlike him. His mind is completely focused on himself and his wants. He is not a good person like she. And he actually thinks that he can give her the life that she wants when it is only the life that he wants. He laughs thinking back on his dreams. She deserves a better life than anything he can ever give her. She deserves better than him. She deserves better than everyone.
He probably is not the first man who has bought her expensive things. Not the first man who is completely devoted to her and her alone. Not the first man who admitted to her that he will do anything for her. Walk on fire, juggle swords, even kill. And certainly not the first man to have his heart stomped on and ripped to pieces by her.
“I am apologize, Maxwell,” Elizabeth apologizes while shaking her head slowly and biting her bottom lip. “I never meant for you to.”
“You never meant for me to?” Maxwell laughs cynically, nodding his head. The gods in the heavens must really have it in for him. “You never MEANT for me to fall in love with you!?” he bites out coldly. He closes his eyes tightly to stop the tears from coming. He will not cry in front of her; not now; not ever. He is already humiliated by her enough as it is.
“Maxwell …” Elizabeth pleads again. She places her free hand on top of their joined ones, rubbing his hand gently, trying to apologize. She needs to explain to him … to explain to him everything. “Please try to understand …”
Maxwell looks down at their linked hands in disgust. “ I do not want to hear it,” he spits out at her through clenched teeth, his voice dead and heartless. The brightness in his eyes earlier all but die out.
Maxwell jerks his hand away from hers, jumping to his feet as he storms away … away from her, the source of all his agony. He runs deeper and deeper into the garden. He has to get away, to think, to wonder over where he went wrong or whether he was ever in the right where Elizabeth is concerned.
Elizabeth stands and stares after him as he walks away from her. She watches as he disappears past bushes and trees, into the darkness of the night.
She sniffles, biting her lip slightly, before slowly sitting back down on the bench. She pulls Maxwell’s jacket tighter around her shoulders as she shivers, wrapping her arms around herself. The night suddenly seems colder.
Elizabeth remains seated on the bench long after Maxwell leaves. It is getting colder and colder outside and Maxwell’s thin jacket is not keeping her from shivering. But she refuses to leave the spot, not until Maxwell returns. She cannot leave things as they are, with him angry with her. She must explain. She must make things right again between them. She must.
“Elizabeth?” A voice calls out.
Elizabeth turns and faces the voice. “Isabella, what are you doing out here?”
“Looking for you, actually,” Isabella says, taking a seat beside Elizabeth. “Alexander says he saw you here tonight. I will not believe him until I see from my own eyes. Are you feeling better?”
“Much better, thank you,” Elizabeth smiles. She is touched by Isabella’s concern. Elizabeth does not think many people even notice her or even want her around. Her parents even abandoned her.
“Everyone was so worried for you,” Isabella says, looking Elizabeth in the eyes. “Especially Maxwell.”
“Maxwell …” Elizabeth whispers with a sigh. Her face falls and her eyes lower to the ground. Maxwell worries for her … Maxwell loves her. How can this be? He is not supposed to love her. No one is supposed to love her. It is not in the plan. Elizabeth must make Maxwell see that he is mistaken.
“Yes. You should have seen how distressed Maxwell was. He refused to leave your side for even a moment. It was as though he were on the verge of tears every second. He must love you,” Isabella says, winking at Elizabeth and elbowing her lightly in the side.
“Yes …” Elizabeth murmurs. “He might have, but he … he does not anymore.”
“What do you mean?” Isabella asks. “Maxwell is head over heels in love with you. You should see the gift he bought for you. He showed it to me. It is absolutely breathtaking. I almost fainted when I saw it,” Isabella says, her eyes growing wide.
“You mean this?” Elizabeth asks as she lifts her arm for Isabella to see the beautiful diamond bracelet as it sparkles slightly in the dim moonlight.
“Yes,” Isabella says with a smile. “He already gave it to you? Did you hug him and kiss him all over?”
Elizabeth shakes her head sadly. “He gave it to me. But I did not… I did not get to thank him.”
“That is alright. Maxwell is probably ecstatic just by you wearing it. It is his way of claiming you as his. Where is Maxwell, by the way?” Isabella asks, glancing around the garden. “Is he not out here with you?”
“No. He … he is … but he left,” Elizabeth speaks softly.
“Left you here by yourself? I doubt that,” Isabella says, shaking her head slightly. “He probably just ran off to go buy you a set of matching diamond earrings or a necklace,” Isabella teases. “Or, at least a fur coat. It is freezing out here.” She rubs her hands up and down her arms to try and warm herself.
Elizabeth nods her head in agreement. Maxwell’s jacket slips and she pulls it tighter around her shoulders. The smell of his cologne is embedded in the jacket. Elizabeth smiles at the thought of her totally encompassed in Maxwell. But then she sighs heavily.
“Why do we not head inside? Everyone is still there, and there are plenty of people for me to introduce you to,” Isabella says, standing up and grabbing Elizabeth’s hand in an attempt to pull her inside.
Elizabeth slips her hand out of Isabella’s. “No. I need to wait here. I have to wait for Maxwell to come back. There are some … things … I need to tell him that I did not get the chance to earlier.”
“Elizabeth,” Isabella says with a warning tone in her voice. “It is too cold and too late at night for you to be out here by yourself. This is your first ball, so I have to warn you that there are a lot of drunk and delusional men loitering out around here at night. It is not safe. Besides, you are still ill. And I highly doubt that the good Doctor Davis will approve of you out in the cold.”
“But …” Elizabeth protests.
“No buts,” Isabella says as she grabs Elizabeth’s hand again. This time, successfully pulling Elizabeth toward the house with her. “Do not worry. Maxwell will find you. He will probably search hell and back just to get to you. And in the mean time, you can come spend time with me. There are some very handsome young men attending this event that I would like to meet, and I guarantee that you will want to meet them too.”
“What about Alexander?” Elizabeth asks, teasingly.
“What about Alexander? It is not like I am actually interested in any of these fine young men. We are simply getting to know the members of our community … friendly mingling,” Isabella says with a mischievous smile.
Elizabeth sighs and slumps her shoulders in surrender, agreeing to follow Isabella into the house. She will have to sneak away later to wait for Maxwell. And judging by how angry he was, he will most likely be outside a while longer.
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Maxwell pounds his fist on the hard trunk of the tree before him, succeeding in bruising his hand in the process. But he does not care. He needs to relieve some of the anger building inside of him. He is not angry with Elizabeth. No, he can never be angry with Elizabeth. He is more angry with himself. Angry that he is not a better person.
If he were a better person, maybe … just maybe, Elizabeth will return his affection … or at least show some type of fondness towards him. Any emotion, any emotion other than what she feels … pity. He saw PITY in her eyes, like he is some pathetic fool. Maxwell takes another punch at the tree, blood now dripping out of his knuckles, before he slowly drops to the ground, hanging his head between his pulled up knees.
Why does this have to happen to him? Of all things, he wants her more than anything else, but she does not want him. She probably wants Sean. Maxwell is disgusted at the notion. Elizabeth will never want someone like Sean. He knows she will not. But then again, he had also thought that she wanted to be with him. Oh, god. She probably does want to be with Sean.
But he bets more than anything that she will not want to be with Sean if he proves to her just how corrupt Sean is, how much of a better person he is than Sean Deluca. Maxwell stands, a plan forming in his head. Granted, it is not a very thought out or a calculated plan, but it is a plan nonetheless. And he is going to go through with it. After all, Evans men never back down from a challenge. And right now, Sean is his main rival, as they challenge to win Elizabeth’s heart … if it is even obtainable, Maxwell thinks with a groan, his shoulders slump and his resolve dwindle.
No, he thinks firmly. He will not lose. He is going to prove to Elizabeth what a great person he is, and he is going to do it now. And if she does not see just how great he is and fall as much in love with him as he is with her, he will simply have to make her see.
Maxwell stomps toward the house, completely motivated to do just about anything.
But when he hears voices calling, not far away, he ducks to the ground and hides himself. Everyone knows that these balls always have drunk and delusional people out about. And that is exactly what he is … a drunk … drunk off love.
Maxwell holds his breath as the people come closer toward him. He can hear them rustling past the bushes.
“Where is she?” Maxwell hears an authoritative voice question. He recognizes it.
“I … I do not know. I saw her coming out here earlier.”
Now there is a voice Maxwell definitely recognizes. Sean Deluca, the worming scumbag himself. What is he up to now?
“You had better find her. I want her eliminated. No mistakes!”
Who does he want to get rid of? Maxwell wonders.
“I do not see why you want her gone that badly. I mean … Elizabeth is not all that bad. She is every pretty.”
Bloody hell? Maxwell thinks. Did Sean just say that they are going to eliminate Elizabeth? His Elizabeth?
“Sean. I am going to pretend I did not hear that and walk away without bashing your head in. You know damn well that I need her gone. Now … you find that girl and you get rid of her, or else, I will get rid of you.”
“Yes Khivar!”
Khivar … Khivar wants Elizabeth gone? Why? What did Elizabeth ever do to anyone?
“Good! Now go and find her.”
Maxwell hears the voices drift off as they head in a different direction. Once he is certain they are out of sight, Maxwell jumps up and runs toward the house. He must find Elizabeth. He must save her.
Maxwell makes it to the bench they sat at earlier, but there is no sign of Elizabeth. Why did he ever let her out of his sight? She is still not fully recovered yet.
Maxwell makes a mad dash for the house. He rushes through the door and looks about frantically for Elizabeth. Maxwell hears laughter a few feet away from him, a sweet, harmonious laughter, one that makes his lips curl and his heart soar.
He turns toward her, his angel, wearing her white flowing gown. Her hair done up in a simple and yet elegant twist. Her face glows with a sweet smile on her lips. She has his jacket casually draped over her arm. But his bracelet still shines out slightly, sparkling in the candlelight, claiming her as his. She is absolutely breathtaking. Normally, when he looks at her, his heart will melt.
But what he sees makes his heart crumble and his face fall. His Elizabeth is talking with another man. What hurt more is that she is laughing at his jokes. He is making her smile and running his hand up and down her bare arm. Anger and jealousy fill Maxwell as he storms over to her, fuming.
When she spots him a few steps away, she turns toward him with a smile. “Maxwell, I have been looking all over for you.”
“I will bet,” he spits out at her.
Elizabeth’s face falls at his sharp words. He is still angry with her. “This… this is Bradley,” she says, motioning with her hands to the person whom Maxwell feels a dire need to hit in the gut at this very instant.
“Hello, Maxwell Evans. It is great to finally be able to meet you,” Bradley says, extending his hand for Maxwell to take.
Maxwell looks from Bradley to Bradley’s hand and back to Bradley again before he speaks. “Leave,” Maxwell says, annoyed that the boy would even try to stick around after Maxwell has arrived to stake his claim.
Bradley quickly spins on his heel and leaves. He might not know Maxwell personally, but everyone knows not to mess with Maxwell Evans. It is like playing with fire.
Elizabeth turns her head and watches Bradley scamper off. She needs to talk to Maxwell, but she is not sure if she wants to do so while he is in the nasty mood he is in.
“What? You want to follow him?” Maxwell asks, noticing her gaze after the jerk she was talking to. “You want to stop him from walking away? Go ahead. Stop him. Tell him you want him to stay. Tell him you love him. That you want to be with him. God knows you did not even try to stop me,” Maxwell spits out, his hurt shining clearly in his eyes.
“What are you talking about, Maxwell?” Elizabeth asks, shaking her head. “I only just met Bradley.”
“Yes. And what does he have that I do not? What makes him so special that he can make you laugh … make you smile like that?” His voice gets lower as his lip starts quivering.
“I do not know, Maxwell,” Elizabeth shakes her head. “Why do not you ask yourself that question? You always made me smile … made me happy… anytime you were near, except for recently.”
“And whose fault is that?!” He bites out through clenched teeth.
Elizabeth stares at him, tears shining in her eyes as she begins to crumble. “Who are you? You are not the Maxwell I know. You … you have never been this cold to me before.”
“Well, the Elizabeth I know would not have hurt me like you do,” Maxwell snarls out. “I do not know what I ever saw in you. You are nothing but a manipulative tramp, stringing men along like they are nothing. I wish I had never met you,” Maxwell snarls at her.
Elizabeth cannot restrain her tears anymore. They come flowing down her cheeks. She is right. Maxwell does not care for her. Elizabeth lowers her head and fidgets with her hands. She smiles ruefully and bites her bottom lip to keep it from quivering.
After the hurtful words come pouring out of Maxwell, he can only watch Elizabeth as she breaks down in front of him. A small whimper coming from her makes him crumble, more than regretting every word that came from his mouth. Maxwell reaches up and runs his hand up and down her arm, trying to soothe her, trying to apologize. “Elizabeth …”
Elizabeth spins on her heel, her hands coming up to cover her sobbing and wipe away tears as she runs out of the room, into the garden.
“No,” Maxwell yells after her. “Elizabeth, do not go.” She cannot go into the gardens. They will capture her there. He is supposed to be protecting her, keeping her away from them, away from everything evil in the world. He loves her, no matter how much it hurts, he still loves her more than anything. And he is more than willing to risk his life for hers. Maxwell runs in after her without a second thought.
Elizabeth runs through the garden, past the trees and bushes, hiking up her dress so she can quicken her pace. She can hear Maxwell calling for her not far behind, making her run even faster. She brushes past a few rose bushes, hissing as the thorns scrape her across her bare arms and cling to her dress. She still has Maxwell’s coat jacket in her hand, still holding on to it. She can feel blood dripping out of her arms. But Elizabeth ignores the sting as she keeps running, not wanting to be anywhere near Maxwell. She does not want to be around to hear any more of his hateful words.
Maxwell runs after her, calling her name and trying to stop her, but she is always just barely out of his reach. And when he can almost scantily grab her arm, she slips between two fences in the garden. It is too narrow of a space for Maxwell to slide through, so he is forced to go around them, allowing Elizabeth ample time to increase the distance between them. When he finally makes it around the wall, he is able to catch a glimpse of her as she disappears into the bushes. Maxwell runs in after her.
Elizabeth cannot last much longer. Her breathing is laborious, her pulse is erratic, and her heart is pounding harder than ever before. If she does not stop soon, she will faint. But up ahead, she can see the outline of carriages, parked in the long driveway, the coachmen standing around mingling with one another as they await their masters to call upon them. Actually, one person is going around to the different carriages and talking to the other coachmen.
Elizabeth can hear Maxwell’s footsteps several yards behind her once again. She waves her arms around frantically to the coachmen, trying to signal them. The one she took note of earlier nods toward her as he hops onto the front of a carriage and turns it around, ready for her to hop in and ride away immediately.
And Elizabeth does just so, hopping into the open carriage door and shutting it as she steps in. She sinks down onto the seat, trying her best to catch her breath and calm her heart before she faints. The coachman speeds the carriage off, down the road, and away from Maxwell.
Maxwell watches as Elizabeth signals the coachman and heads straight for the carriage. He prays that he reaches her before she can get to it, but he knows praying is useless. The gods just are not on his side. He watches as Elizabeth enters the carriage and slams the door shut. Maxwell races toward her, looking on as the seemingly familiar outline of the coachman waves at him. Even in the darkness of the night, the moon shines brightly enough so that Maxwell can see the smirk smeared across the coachman’s face, as if claiming his victory. That face. It makes Maxwell cringe. The face Maxwell will always remember. The face he will despise for an eternity, along with the reptile it belongs to … Sean Deluca.
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Chapter Thirty One:
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“Elizabeth?” Maxwell begins to panic. After he has said what he has been dying to say to her, she just gasps a little and remains quiet. “D-Did you hear what I said?”
“Huh?” Elizabeth asks, coming out of her daze. She does not know how to respond. How is she to respond to something like this?
“Elizabeth, I … I said … I love you,” Maxwell says, staring at her intently, trying to read her thoughts, to feel how she is feeling. “I have loved you since the moment I first saw you, by the river that day,” Maxwell admits, smiling in remembrance of that day, so long ago. It seems like years ago, not mere weeks.
He is silently praying to the gods above to please give him this. Just this one moment of happiness and he will not ask for anything else. He will be content for life.
Elizabeth stares at him with her mouth hanging open again, before turning her head away, biting her bottom lip as it quivers slightly. “Oh,” she remarks softly, almost inaudibly.
“Oh?” Maxwell asks, his voice quivering. “W-wha … what do you mean, Elizabeth?” He has no idea what is going on in her mind. Elizabeth normally wears her emotions on her sleeve but he cannot gage any of her feelings with her looking away from him like this.
“Elizabeth …” Maxwell whispers. He uses his free hand to clasp her chin and gently forces her head up to look at him. He locks gaze with her and takes in all he can. He tries to read her eyes for any emotions, and what he sees makes him crumble. Her eyes are pleading with him … begging him for forgiveness. They are filled with sorrow, with regret … with … pity.
Maxwell cannot keep the hurt from coming. His heartache washes over him in wave after wave of sorrow. Drowning him in despair. She pities him … for loving her? How can she pity him?
Of course she can. She has every right to. She is an incredible, gorgeous being. So sweet. So kind. So above everyone else. Unlike him. His mind is completely focused on himself and his wants. He is not a good person like she. And he actually thinks that he can give her the life that she wants when it is only the life that he wants. He laughs thinking back on his dreams. She deserves a better life than anything he can ever give her. She deserves better than him. She deserves better than everyone.
He probably is not the first man who has bought her expensive things. Not the first man who is completely devoted to her and her alone. Not the first man who admitted to her that he will do anything for her. Walk on fire, juggle swords, even kill. And certainly not the first man to have his heart stomped on and ripped to pieces by her.
“I am apologize, Maxwell,” Elizabeth apologizes while shaking her head slowly and biting her bottom lip. “I never meant for you to.”
“You never meant for me to?” Maxwell laughs cynically, nodding his head. The gods in the heavens must really have it in for him. “You never MEANT for me to fall in love with you!?” he bites out coldly. He closes his eyes tightly to stop the tears from coming. He will not cry in front of her; not now; not ever. He is already humiliated by her enough as it is.
“Maxwell …” Elizabeth pleads again. She places her free hand on top of their joined ones, rubbing his hand gently, trying to apologize. She needs to explain to him … to explain to him everything. “Please try to understand …”
Maxwell looks down at their linked hands in disgust. “ I do not want to hear it,” he spits out at her through clenched teeth, his voice dead and heartless. The brightness in his eyes earlier all but die out.
Maxwell jerks his hand away from hers, jumping to his feet as he storms away … away from her, the source of all his agony. He runs deeper and deeper into the garden. He has to get away, to think, to wonder over where he went wrong or whether he was ever in the right where Elizabeth is concerned.
Elizabeth stands and stares after him as he walks away from her. She watches as he disappears past bushes and trees, into the darkness of the night.
She sniffles, biting her lip slightly, before slowly sitting back down on the bench. She pulls Maxwell’s jacket tighter around her shoulders as she shivers, wrapping her arms around herself. The night suddenly seems colder.
Elizabeth remains seated on the bench long after Maxwell leaves. It is getting colder and colder outside and Maxwell’s thin jacket is not keeping her from shivering. But she refuses to leave the spot, not until Maxwell returns. She cannot leave things as they are, with him angry with her. She must explain. She must make things right again between them. She must.
“Elizabeth?” A voice calls out.
Elizabeth turns and faces the voice. “Isabella, what are you doing out here?”
“Looking for you, actually,” Isabella says, taking a seat beside Elizabeth. “Alexander says he saw you here tonight. I will not believe him until I see from my own eyes. Are you feeling better?”
“Much better, thank you,” Elizabeth smiles. She is touched by Isabella’s concern. Elizabeth does not think many people even notice her or even want her around. Her parents even abandoned her.
“Everyone was so worried for you,” Isabella says, looking Elizabeth in the eyes. “Especially Maxwell.”
“Maxwell …” Elizabeth whispers with a sigh. Her face falls and her eyes lower to the ground. Maxwell worries for her … Maxwell loves her. How can this be? He is not supposed to love her. No one is supposed to love her. It is not in the plan. Elizabeth must make Maxwell see that he is mistaken.
“Yes. You should have seen how distressed Maxwell was. He refused to leave your side for even a moment. It was as though he were on the verge of tears every second. He must love you,” Isabella says, winking at Elizabeth and elbowing her lightly in the side.
“Yes …” Elizabeth murmurs. “He might have, but he … he does not anymore.”
“What do you mean?” Isabella asks. “Maxwell is head over heels in love with you. You should see the gift he bought for you. He showed it to me. It is absolutely breathtaking. I almost fainted when I saw it,” Isabella says, her eyes growing wide.
“You mean this?” Elizabeth asks as she lifts her arm for Isabella to see the beautiful diamond bracelet as it sparkles slightly in the dim moonlight.
“Yes,” Isabella says with a smile. “He already gave it to you? Did you hug him and kiss him all over?”
Elizabeth shakes her head sadly. “He gave it to me. But I did not… I did not get to thank him.”
“That is alright. Maxwell is probably ecstatic just by you wearing it. It is his way of claiming you as his. Where is Maxwell, by the way?” Isabella asks, glancing around the garden. “Is he not out here with you?”
“No. He … he is … but he left,” Elizabeth speaks softly.
“Left you here by yourself? I doubt that,” Isabella says, shaking her head slightly. “He probably just ran off to go buy you a set of matching diamond earrings or a necklace,” Isabella teases. “Or, at least a fur coat. It is freezing out here.” She rubs her hands up and down her arms to try and warm herself.
Elizabeth nods her head in agreement. Maxwell’s jacket slips and she pulls it tighter around her shoulders. The smell of his cologne is embedded in the jacket. Elizabeth smiles at the thought of her totally encompassed in Maxwell. But then she sighs heavily.
“Why do we not head inside? Everyone is still there, and there are plenty of people for me to introduce you to,” Isabella says, standing up and grabbing Elizabeth’s hand in an attempt to pull her inside.
Elizabeth slips her hand out of Isabella’s. “No. I need to wait here. I have to wait for Maxwell to come back. There are some … things … I need to tell him that I did not get the chance to earlier.”
“Elizabeth,” Isabella says with a warning tone in her voice. “It is too cold and too late at night for you to be out here by yourself. This is your first ball, so I have to warn you that there are a lot of drunk and delusional men loitering out around here at night. It is not safe. Besides, you are still ill. And I highly doubt that the good Doctor Davis will approve of you out in the cold.”
“But …” Elizabeth protests.
“No buts,” Isabella says as she grabs Elizabeth’s hand again. This time, successfully pulling Elizabeth toward the house with her. “Do not worry. Maxwell will find you. He will probably search hell and back just to get to you. And in the mean time, you can come spend time with me. There are some very handsome young men attending this event that I would like to meet, and I guarantee that you will want to meet them too.”
“What about Alexander?” Elizabeth asks, teasingly.
“What about Alexander? It is not like I am actually interested in any of these fine young men. We are simply getting to know the members of our community … friendly mingling,” Isabella says with a mischievous smile.
Elizabeth sighs and slumps her shoulders in surrender, agreeing to follow Isabella into the house. She will have to sneak away later to wait for Maxwell. And judging by how angry he was, he will most likely be outside a while longer.
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Maxwell pounds his fist on the hard trunk of the tree before him, succeeding in bruising his hand in the process. But he does not care. He needs to relieve some of the anger building inside of him. He is not angry with Elizabeth. No, he can never be angry with Elizabeth. He is more angry with himself. Angry that he is not a better person.
If he were a better person, maybe … just maybe, Elizabeth will return his affection … or at least show some type of fondness towards him. Any emotion, any emotion other than what she feels … pity. He saw PITY in her eyes, like he is some pathetic fool. Maxwell takes another punch at the tree, blood now dripping out of his knuckles, before he slowly drops to the ground, hanging his head between his pulled up knees.
Why does this have to happen to him? Of all things, he wants her more than anything else, but she does not want him. She probably wants Sean. Maxwell is disgusted at the notion. Elizabeth will never want someone like Sean. He knows she will not. But then again, he had also thought that she wanted to be with him. Oh, god. She probably does want to be with Sean.
But he bets more than anything that she will not want to be with Sean if he proves to her just how corrupt Sean is, how much of a better person he is than Sean Deluca. Maxwell stands, a plan forming in his head. Granted, it is not a very thought out or a calculated plan, but it is a plan nonetheless. And he is going to go through with it. After all, Evans men never back down from a challenge. And right now, Sean is his main rival, as they challenge to win Elizabeth’s heart … if it is even obtainable, Maxwell thinks with a groan, his shoulders slump and his resolve dwindle.
No, he thinks firmly. He will not lose. He is going to prove to Elizabeth what a great person he is, and he is going to do it now. And if she does not see just how great he is and fall as much in love with him as he is with her, he will simply have to make her see.
Maxwell stomps toward the house, completely motivated to do just about anything.
But when he hears voices calling, not far away, he ducks to the ground and hides himself. Everyone knows that these balls always have drunk and delusional people out about. And that is exactly what he is … a drunk … drunk off love.
Maxwell holds his breath as the people come closer toward him. He can hear them rustling past the bushes.
“Where is she?” Maxwell hears an authoritative voice question. He recognizes it.
“I … I do not know. I saw her coming out here earlier.”
Now there is a voice Maxwell definitely recognizes. Sean Deluca, the worming scumbag himself. What is he up to now?
“You had better find her. I want her eliminated. No mistakes!”
Who does he want to get rid of? Maxwell wonders.
“I do not see why you want her gone that badly. I mean … Elizabeth is not all that bad. She is every pretty.”
Bloody hell? Maxwell thinks. Did Sean just say that they are going to eliminate Elizabeth? His Elizabeth?
“Sean. I am going to pretend I did not hear that and walk away without bashing your head in. You know damn well that I need her gone. Now … you find that girl and you get rid of her, or else, I will get rid of you.”
“Yes Khivar!”
Khivar … Khivar wants Elizabeth gone? Why? What did Elizabeth ever do to anyone?
“Good! Now go and find her.”
Maxwell hears the voices drift off as they head in a different direction. Once he is certain they are out of sight, Maxwell jumps up and runs toward the house. He must find Elizabeth. He must save her.
Maxwell makes it to the bench they sat at earlier, but there is no sign of Elizabeth. Why did he ever let her out of his sight? She is still not fully recovered yet.
Maxwell makes a mad dash for the house. He rushes through the door and looks about frantically for Elizabeth. Maxwell hears laughter a few feet away from him, a sweet, harmonious laughter, one that makes his lips curl and his heart soar.
He turns toward her, his angel, wearing her white flowing gown. Her hair done up in a simple and yet elegant twist. Her face glows with a sweet smile on her lips. She has his jacket casually draped over her arm. But his bracelet still shines out slightly, sparkling in the candlelight, claiming her as his. She is absolutely breathtaking. Normally, when he looks at her, his heart will melt.
But what he sees makes his heart crumble and his face fall. His Elizabeth is talking with another man. What hurt more is that she is laughing at his jokes. He is making her smile and running his hand up and down her bare arm. Anger and jealousy fill Maxwell as he storms over to her, fuming.
When she spots him a few steps away, she turns toward him with a smile. “Maxwell, I have been looking all over for you.”
“I will bet,” he spits out at her.
Elizabeth’s face falls at his sharp words. He is still angry with her. “This… this is Bradley,” she says, motioning with her hands to the person whom Maxwell feels a dire need to hit in the gut at this very instant.
“Hello, Maxwell Evans. It is great to finally be able to meet you,” Bradley says, extending his hand for Maxwell to take.
Maxwell looks from Bradley to Bradley’s hand and back to Bradley again before he speaks. “Leave,” Maxwell says, annoyed that the boy would even try to stick around after Maxwell has arrived to stake his claim.
Bradley quickly spins on his heel and leaves. He might not know Maxwell personally, but everyone knows not to mess with Maxwell Evans. It is like playing with fire.
Elizabeth turns her head and watches Bradley scamper off. She needs to talk to Maxwell, but she is not sure if she wants to do so while he is in the nasty mood he is in.
“What? You want to follow him?” Maxwell asks, noticing her gaze after the jerk she was talking to. “You want to stop him from walking away? Go ahead. Stop him. Tell him you want him to stay. Tell him you love him. That you want to be with him. God knows you did not even try to stop me,” Maxwell spits out, his hurt shining clearly in his eyes.
“What are you talking about, Maxwell?” Elizabeth asks, shaking her head. “I only just met Bradley.”
“Yes. And what does he have that I do not? What makes him so special that he can make you laugh … make you smile like that?” His voice gets lower as his lip starts quivering.
“I do not know, Maxwell,” Elizabeth shakes her head. “Why do not you ask yourself that question? You always made me smile … made me happy… anytime you were near, except for recently.”
“And whose fault is that?!” He bites out through clenched teeth.
Elizabeth stares at him, tears shining in her eyes as she begins to crumble. “Who are you? You are not the Maxwell I know. You … you have never been this cold to me before.”
“Well, the Elizabeth I know would not have hurt me like you do,” Maxwell snarls out. “I do not know what I ever saw in you. You are nothing but a manipulative tramp, stringing men along like they are nothing. I wish I had never met you,” Maxwell snarls at her.
Elizabeth cannot restrain her tears anymore. They come flowing down her cheeks. She is right. Maxwell does not care for her. Elizabeth lowers her head and fidgets with her hands. She smiles ruefully and bites her bottom lip to keep it from quivering.
After the hurtful words come pouring out of Maxwell, he can only watch Elizabeth as she breaks down in front of him. A small whimper coming from her makes him crumble, more than regretting every word that came from his mouth. Maxwell reaches up and runs his hand up and down her arm, trying to soothe her, trying to apologize. “Elizabeth …”
Elizabeth spins on her heel, her hands coming up to cover her sobbing and wipe away tears as she runs out of the room, into the garden.
“No,” Maxwell yells after her. “Elizabeth, do not go.” She cannot go into the gardens. They will capture her there. He is supposed to be protecting her, keeping her away from them, away from everything evil in the world. He loves her, no matter how much it hurts, he still loves her more than anything. And he is more than willing to risk his life for hers. Maxwell runs in after her without a second thought.
Elizabeth runs through the garden, past the trees and bushes, hiking up her dress so she can quicken her pace. She can hear Maxwell calling for her not far behind, making her run even faster. She brushes past a few rose bushes, hissing as the thorns scrape her across her bare arms and cling to her dress. She still has Maxwell’s coat jacket in her hand, still holding on to it. She can feel blood dripping out of her arms. But Elizabeth ignores the sting as she keeps running, not wanting to be anywhere near Maxwell. She does not want to be around to hear any more of his hateful words.
Maxwell runs after her, calling her name and trying to stop her, but she is always just barely out of his reach. And when he can almost scantily grab her arm, she slips between two fences in the garden. It is too narrow of a space for Maxwell to slide through, so he is forced to go around them, allowing Elizabeth ample time to increase the distance between them. When he finally makes it around the wall, he is able to catch a glimpse of her as she disappears into the bushes. Maxwell runs in after her.
Elizabeth cannot last much longer. Her breathing is laborious, her pulse is erratic, and her heart is pounding harder than ever before. If she does not stop soon, she will faint. But up ahead, she can see the outline of carriages, parked in the long driveway, the coachmen standing around mingling with one another as they await their masters to call upon them. Actually, one person is going around to the different carriages and talking to the other coachmen.
Elizabeth can hear Maxwell’s footsteps several yards behind her once again. She waves her arms around frantically to the coachmen, trying to signal them. The one she took note of earlier nods toward her as he hops onto the front of a carriage and turns it around, ready for her to hop in and ride away immediately.
And Elizabeth does just so, hopping into the open carriage door and shutting it as she steps in. She sinks down onto the seat, trying her best to catch her breath and calm her heart before she faints. The coachman speeds the carriage off, down the road, and away from Maxwell.
Maxwell watches as Elizabeth signals the coachman and heads straight for the carriage. He prays that he reaches her before she can get to it, but he knows praying is useless. The gods just are not on his side. He watches as Elizabeth enters the carriage and slams the door shut. Maxwell races toward her, looking on as the seemingly familiar outline of the coachman waves at him. Even in the darkness of the night, the moon shines brightly enough so that Maxwell can see the smirk smeared across the coachman’s face, as if claiming his victory. That face. It makes Maxwell cringe. The face Maxwell will always remember. The face he will despise for an eternity, along with the reptile it belongs to … Sean Deluca.
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Chapter Thirty Two:
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Elizabeth wakes with a start as the carriage runs over a large bump in the road. She must have fallen asleep after the carriage took off. She was so exhausted. Tonight was too much for her, and it is still yet to be over. Elizabeth peers outside the window and takes in her surroundings. What she sees scares her.
The coachman has taken her deep into the forest, not where she wants to be taken. Come to think of it, Elizabeth had not told the driver where she wanted to go. The driver simply took off after she entered the carriage.
Elizabeth carefully moves to the bench facing her. There is a small window above it, where the coachman sits. She knocks on the glass of the window before pulling it back. “Excuse me,” she speaks politely.
“Yes?” Sean asks glancing down at her.
Elizabeth gasps, recognizing his face. He is the man Maxwell competed with the first day she met Maxwell. He is also the last person she saw before she blacked out in the alley. What was his name … Sean … was it not?
This is strange. The way Sean was flaunting in front of Maxwell that day made Elizabeth believe that Sean comes from a very high-class family. And that wager that the two made was over a great deal of money. So why is Sean a coachman for a carriage? And where is he taking her?
Elizabeth hears Sean curse and looks around to see what is the matter. She can hear a horse galloping up at a distance, but cannot see anything in the darkness of the night. She tries to make out who is riding upon the galloping horse by looking through the back window, but cannot make out who it is. She begins panicking. What if it is a thief? Or a hijacker?
In her distress, she begins praying, begging for help.
“W-who is that behind us?” Elizabeth stutters out. She moves to the seat closer to Sean.
“No one for you to concern yourself with, my dear,” Sean says with an evil grin. “That should be the least of the worries on your mind right now.”
“Where are you taking me?” Elizabeth asks. She does not recognize this part of the forest. She has never taken this route before.
“You should not be worrying about that right now either. You should be worrying about how much longer you have left to live.” Sean smirks at her. “Or whether I feel generous enough to give a quick and easy death.
Elizabeth gasps and backs away from Sean, taking the seat near the back window. Oh, please, no. Someone help her.
Sean whips the horse again and speeds the carriage away. But Elizabeth can hear the galloping horse come closer. She looks out the back window again and can make out the faint outline of a figure on a horse. A very familiar figure. Elizabeth stands shakily in the moving carriage and pries open the back window.
“HELP!” she cries out to the horseman. Praying to the gods that, who ever the person is, they are coming to help her.
“HELP ME PLEASE!” she manages out before she lets out an ear-piercing scream as she feels a sharp sting to her back. Elizabeth turns around and sees Sean’s hand through the window. The whip that Sean had used to whip the horse, he was using to whip her as well.
“Shut your trap, whore!” Sean yells at her from where he sits. “No one is going to be able to help you! Just wait until I get my hands on you! We will give Maxwell something to really be jealous over!”
NO! Elizabeth thinks. There has to be another way out. Elizabeth’s mind begins to spin as she considers her options. She can stay in the carriage. Then, Sean will either kill her quickly or painfully. Then there is the horseman. He can help her, unless he is also out to get her.
Or she can get out of the carriage. If she jumps for it, she will definitely be hurt. There is a high chance of broken bones. And there is a chance that Sean will still run after her. There is a chance she will be able to get away. There is a chance the horseman might save her … or kill her. And there is also the chance of her dying from the impact. But is it a chance she is willing to take? YES! Anything was better than to have Sean’s hands on her. Sean’s wickedness is coming off strong. It makes Elizabeth nauseous.
She makes her mind up and pushes open the door. The speed of the wind as the carriage whips through the night air makes the door jerk open and slam into the side of the carriage with a loud bang.
“What the HELL do you think you are doing?” Sean yells back to Elizabeth. But before he can say any more, Elizabeth jumps out the carriage, throwing herself out the door and trying her best not to break any limbs.
She lands face down with a thud, wincing and moaning at the pain that is coming over her body. She can hear the carriage coming to a screeching halt, a horse neighing nearby, and the thunderous gallops of the horseman stop shortly after. Elizabeth can faintly hear footsteps coming at her from both sides, and the sound of someone yelling out her name before her body gives into the pain and she slumps to the earth, blackening out.
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Maxwell rides on as fast as can. He must reach Elizabeth. He finally begins to catch up to the carriage upon exiting the city and entering the forest. Where is Sean planning on taking her? How far is he planning on going?
Suddenly Maxwell feels it, the fuzzy feeling he first felt the other day in the alley. It is Elizabeth. She is calling him, begging him to help her. Maxwell quickens his speed. Elizabeth needs him.
As he starts getting closer to the carriage, he can see Elizabeth jumping back into the seat through the back window of the carriage. If Sean does something to her … Maxwell feels his anger rising. Fear is coming off of Elizabeth in waves. She is terrified and panicked.
Maxwell sees her pry open the back window and stares right at him. Some fallen strands of her hair are whipping around her face. He can hear her yelling out to him, “HELP!”
Do not worry, love, Maxwell thinks. “I am coming!” he yells back, but it is drowned out by the sound of her loud shriek. Maxwell sees it. Sean is hurting her. That bastard. When Maxwell gets his hands on Sean … Sean is a dead man.
Maxwell is almost there … almost to her when the door opens with a bang and out comes Elizabeth’s body. What is she doing? Maxwell thinks to himself. He stops the horse abruptly, causing the horse to neigh loudly in protest. The carriage also stops and Sean is already running toward Elizabeth.
Maxwell jumps off the horse and runs toward her. He needs to get to her before Sean can lay another finger on her. Hopefully, she is alright and the pain from the impact of the ground is not too much for her. But then, she is still so weak.
Maxwell sees her head fall to the ground, passing out just as Sean reaches her. Maxwell is only a few steps away. He slams his body into Sean’s, shoving the filthy bastard away from his Elizabeth. Maxwell hurdles toward Sean and starts pounding, letting out all his built up rage and anger. For Elizabeth hurting him. For Sean hurting Elizabeth.
Maxwell uses one of his hands to hold Sean up, and the other to pound at him. His hand is already sore from his bashings on the tree earlier that evening, but he pays no heed. He welcomes the pain. It helps him forget about the other aches his body has been subjected to lately … specifically his heart.
Maxwell finally stops himself when Sean slumps to the ground, unconscious. Maxwell has someone else he has to deal with right now. Someone else he has to take care of.
Maxwell turns around toward the spot where he last saw Elizabeth, but she is no longer there. He looks around frantically before spotting her, her dress flowing around her, her hair, a mess, flying back behind her as she runs deeper into the woods. She is running away … away from him … again. Maxwell bites down on his heartache at seeing her retreating figure … fleeing away from him, not wanting to be around him, Maxwell notes painfully, before he runs after her … again.
Elizabeth runs as fast as she can, or rather, staggers. She knows she will not be able to last much longer, but she has to. Something is after her. Something evil. Her senses are fuzzy, warning her to get away ... far away.
When she wakes, she is in pain. Her whole body aches. She looks up and sees the horseman attacking Sean. He looks familiar, the horseman does, but her vision is still foggy from her fall and she cannot make out who he is.
That is when she feels it, the fuzzy feeling that creeps into her mind, warning bells ringing through her ears, telling her to leave. She picks herself up, grimacing at the pain that shoots through her from every part of her body, staggering her first few steps. But her fear pushes her on and keeps her moving.
She is only able to limp a few feet before she hears footsteps following close behind her. She can hear someone calling out her name. At least, she believes she does. It is hard to tell with her senses still hazy from the impact of the ground and the warning bells ringing in her head.
Who ever it is, is close. Elizabeth hears her name being called again. This time she is positive she hears a voice calling to her. This voice, it iss so familiar. It soothes and comforts her, even with the harshness and anger evident in its tone.
With her breathing more labored than ever, Elizabeth turns her head, glancing back and sees him. He stands only a few steps behind her. Though she can see hurt and anger in his eyes, she is more than pleased to see him. “Maxwell …”
Elizabeth moans and cries out as a she feels a sudden sharp pain in her back. Maxwell is at her side instantly. “Elizabeth …” his voice is full of concern, all anger gone. “What is the matter? W-where are you hurt?” he speaks, looking her up and down, taking in all the scars and bruises that are forming all over her body. “Oh god!”
Elizabeth clenches her teeth hard and grimaces as another pain shoots through her. This time, she feels it in her entire body. Maxwell is frantic, not knowing anything better to do, he gently puts his arms around her, pulling her into an embrace, trying to take away all her pain.
At first, Elizabeth tenses as she feels his arms go around her, but she soon relaxes as Maxwell seems to take all the pain away. It is like he absorbs it all into himself, just so that she will feel better. She does not expect to feel warmth and comfort in Maxwell’s arms …but she does … she always does. So many emotions are running through her head as she leans into his embrace.
Suddenly, the fuzzy warning rings in her head again. Warning bells are going off in her mind. The person that she senses, coming after her earlier, is not Maxwell. It is someone else. And that someone is still after her. Evil pulsates off this person. Who ever this person is, they are after her and will stop at nothing until they reach her. They will even kill …
Maxwell loves the feel of Elizabeth in his arms. This is how it is supposed to be … his life with her. He forgets all about Sean, about the ball, about everything. He is completely engrossed in Elizabeth. It is blissful to feel her smooth and honeyed skin underneath his fingertips, to be able to run his fingers through the soft and silky strands of her hair … it is heaven … until she pushes him away.
“N-no … Maxwell,” Elizabeth pants out as she tries her best to push him away. But she is so weak. Her throat feels so dry and her body aches again without Maxwell’s arms around her, to take away the pain. She wants nothing more than to just stay in his arms, but she cannot. She cannot do that … not to him. She cares for him too much, Elizabeth admits to herself. She cannot put him in harm’s way.
“Elizabeth …” Maxwell murmurs softly, pain in his eyes. He removes Elizabeth’s hands from his chest, holding them gently in his own. “You cannot push me away forever …” he whispers out to her.
Elizabeth nearly breaks down at how much pain is in his words … in his eyes, but she can not hurt him … not now … not ever. She slips her hands out of his and throws them around his neck, tiptoeing up to whisper in his ears, that way she will not be able to see the look on his face … the pain in his eyes. “Please Maxwell. Just leave. I need you to leave. I do not want you here.”
Elizabeth slides down Maxwell’s body and hurries off again, the aching of her body goes ignored as she focuses more on the aching she feels in her heart when she sees the devastation in his eyes, but who ever it is, is coming for her, not Maxwell, and she must get away from him, to save him. Elizabeth staggers off into the night again, not glancing back.
Maxwell stares on in disbelief. How can this girl be so fickle? Did he not just feel her responding to him? Did he not just feel her relax in his arms? He did not just imagine that. He knows he did not. He felt it. So why does she keep changing her mind about him?
Maxwell is too shocked to feel her slip down his body, to feel her push away from him, or to noticed her stagger off. When he finally does come out of his reverie, it is too late. She is already gone.
Maxwell turns in circles looking around, trying to find any clue to which direction she went. She may not want him near her, but he will be damned if he is going to allow her to walk away from him like that, especially in her condition.
He closes his eyes tight and tries to sense her again, like he did before.
“Which way did they go?!”
Maxwell hears a voice yell from out of no-where. He hides behind a tree, sucking in his breath and trying to make himself as small as possible, as to not be seen.
“I … I … I do not know,” another voice sobs out.
Maxwell’s eyes widen. He recognizes that voice … those voices. He peeks out from behind the tree, and sure enough, a good distance away stands Khivar, as he towers over a cowering and bloody Sean.
“What do you mean you do not know?!” Khivar shouts as he flings Sean to the ground, causing Sean to yelp out in pain. “I send you out to do one simple task, and you cannot even do that?!”
“M-Maxwell … h-he …” Sean snivels out, backing slowly away from the enraged Khivar.
Khivar walks slowly and deliberately, circling around Sean, like a hawk closing in on its prey.
“Maxwell?” Khivar says in a wickedly calm voice.
Maxwell holds his breath, thinking maybe Khivar has spotted him.
“That sniveling little twerp did this to you?!” Khivar booms out.
Maxwell sees Sean violently nod his head.
Khivar lets out an echoing evil laugh. “YOU were beaten to a pulp … once again … by that little brat?”
Again, Sean nods his head.
Khivar laughs again. “You feeble little weakling. I thought maybe you were ambushed by a group of wood bandits, perhaps they did this to you, and perhaps they made off with the girl, but this was all just Maxwell’s doing?”
Sean nods his head slowly, not liking the sinister look in Khivar’s eyes.
Khivar huffs angrily before holding out his hand to help Sean up. Sean looks at him warily before accepting the hand and pulling himself to his feet.
Once Sean is standing, Khivar still holds onto Sean’s hand in a tight and painful grip. Maxwell can hear Sean moaning in pain as Khivar’s nails dig deep into Sean’s skin. “You have messed up one too many times, and I do not tolerate screw-ups.”
“B … but Khivar. Y … you need me to …” Sean tries to plead.
“Everyone is dispensable to me, especially you,” Khivar speaks, pulling out a knife and jabbing it in Sean’s gut.
Sean yelps out and then grabs his stomach, falling to the ground, and crying out in pain, blood gushing out of him.
Maxwell closes his eyes tight, leans back against the tree, and covers his ears. He does not want to be witness to the murder of a man, even one as vile as Sean Deluca.
When Maxwell finally uncovers his ears a few seconds later, he peeks around the tree to find Sean lying motionless on the ground. Maxwell glances around for any sign of Khivar and can barely make out the faint outline of his retreating back. Khivar is going after Elizabeth now, Maxwell thinks frantically.
Maxwell is going crazy with concern. He must find Elizabeth before Khivar does. Maxwell stops pacing and takes several deep breaths to clear his thoughts. He needs to get to Elizabeth now, but where can she be?
“Think of Elizabeth … think of Elizabeth … think of Elizabeth …” Maxwell mutters to himself over and over again. He thinks about her, about how he first met her, about how gorgeous she is, how her dark brown hair cascades down her back, how her deep brown eyes tend to draw him in.
Maxwell’s eyes suddenly fly open. He senses her. He can faintly feel that fuzzy feeling inside of him again. Maxwell makes a turn, close to in the direction Khivar heads, Maxwell notes dreadfully, and heads off in a hurry. Elizabeth is calling him, and he will be damned if he does not answer her.
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Elizabeth’s body aches. Her side hurts, and she is out of breath. She does not think she can go on any further, but she has to. She has to get as far away from Maxwell as possible. She is not going to get Maxwell hurt while he tries to defend her, which she knows he will.
Elizabeth stumbles a little on her dress, but manages to catch herself before she falls. The scenery … this part of the woods seems awfully familiar to her, but from a fuzzy part of her mind, like from a distant memory … like from a dream … Elizabeth gasps realizing that it was just that. This is her dream … her nightmare.
Terror suddenly comes over her. She has had this nightmare one too many times. Elizabeth knows what is coming … she knows what is going to happen next. But there is no way she can stop it. There is no way she can prevent the inevitable from happening.
That is when she feels it. She feels her foot catch on the root of a tree. She feels herself lose balance. And she feels the hard dirt ground as she falls forward, with not even enough time to brace herself for the fall.
Elizabeth lets out a loud moan and closes her eyes tight. Wincing at the pain from her fall and at what is to happen next. She knows what is to come. This is the part where whoever it is chasing her, catches her. They will reach her and hurt her. But this is not a dream, this time. This time, this is real.
It is real and she is not going to wake soon in her bed and find that it is all a dream. That everyone she has met, even Maxwell, was all a part of her wild imagination. She is not going to wake to the birds singing and the sun shining through her window. Or to the sound of Kyle singing as he cooks her breakfast. She is not going to even get to see Kyle ever again.
Elizabeth tenses as she hears the pounding footsteps behind her, tears streaming down her face. She gives up. She gives in to the pain of her body. She lets it wash over her as her mind drifts to a far off place, where she can live her happy life … with Maxwell. She is completely gone when she feels warm hands lift her into their arms. Hands that are oddly comforting and soothing … hands that can help take all the pain away … if she will let them …
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Chapter Thirty Two:
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Elizabeth wakes with a start as the carriage runs over a large bump in the road. She must have fallen asleep after the carriage took off. She was so exhausted. Tonight was too much for her, and it is still yet to be over. Elizabeth peers outside the window and takes in her surroundings. What she sees scares her.
The coachman has taken her deep into the forest, not where she wants to be taken. Come to think of it, Elizabeth had not told the driver where she wanted to go. The driver simply took off after she entered the carriage.
Elizabeth carefully moves to the bench facing her. There is a small window above it, where the coachman sits. She knocks on the glass of the window before pulling it back. “Excuse me,” she speaks politely.
“Yes?” Sean asks glancing down at her.
Elizabeth gasps, recognizing his face. He is the man Maxwell competed with the first day she met Maxwell. He is also the last person she saw before she blacked out in the alley. What was his name … Sean … was it not?
This is strange. The way Sean was flaunting in front of Maxwell that day made Elizabeth believe that Sean comes from a very high-class family. And that wager that the two made was over a great deal of money. So why is Sean a coachman for a carriage? And where is he taking her?
Elizabeth hears Sean curse and looks around to see what is the matter. She can hear a horse galloping up at a distance, but cannot see anything in the darkness of the night. She tries to make out who is riding upon the galloping horse by looking through the back window, but cannot make out who it is. She begins panicking. What if it is a thief? Or a hijacker?
In her distress, she begins praying, begging for help.
“W-who is that behind us?” Elizabeth stutters out. She moves to the seat closer to Sean.
“No one for you to concern yourself with, my dear,” Sean says with an evil grin. “That should be the least of the worries on your mind right now.”
“Where are you taking me?” Elizabeth asks. She does not recognize this part of the forest. She has never taken this route before.
“You should not be worrying about that right now either. You should be worrying about how much longer you have left to live.” Sean smirks at her. “Or whether I feel generous enough to give a quick and easy death.
Elizabeth gasps and backs away from Sean, taking the seat near the back window. Oh, please, no. Someone help her.
Sean whips the horse again and speeds the carriage away. But Elizabeth can hear the galloping horse come closer. She looks out the back window again and can make out the faint outline of a figure on a horse. A very familiar figure. Elizabeth stands shakily in the moving carriage and pries open the back window.
“HELP!” she cries out to the horseman. Praying to the gods that, who ever the person is, they are coming to help her.
“HELP ME PLEASE!” she manages out before she lets out an ear-piercing scream as she feels a sharp sting to her back. Elizabeth turns around and sees Sean’s hand through the window. The whip that Sean had used to whip the horse, he was using to whip her as well.
“Shut your trap, whore!” Sean yells at her from where he sits. “No one is going to be able to help you! Just wait until I get my hands on you! We will give Maxwell something to really be jealous over!”
NO! Elizabeth thinks. There has to be another way out. Elizabeth’s mind begins to spin as she considers her options. She can stay in the carriage. Then, Sean will either kill her quickly or painfully. Then there is the horseman. He can help her, unless he is also out to get her.
Or she can get out of the carriage. If she jumps for it, she will definitely be hurt. There is a high chance of broken bones. And there is a chance that Sean will still run after her. There is a chance she will be able to get away. There is a chance the horseman might save her … or kill her. And there is also the chance of her dying from the impact. But is it a chance she is willing to take? YES! Anything was better than to have Sean’s hands on her. Sean’s wickedness is coming off strong. It makes Elizabeth nauseous.
She makes her mind up and pushes open the door. The speed of the wind as the carriage whips through the night air makes the door jerk open and slam into the side of the carriage with a loud bang.
“What the HELL do you think you are doing?” Sean yells back to Elizabeth. But before he can say any more, Elizabeth jumps out the carriage, throwing herself out the door and trying her best not to break any limbs.
She lands face down with a thud, wincing and moaning at the pain that is coming over her body. She can hear the carriage coming to a screeching halt, a horse neighing nearby, and the thunderous gallops of the horseman stop shortly after. Elizabeth can faintly hear footsteps coming at her from both sides, and the sound of someone yelling out her name before her body gives into the pain and she slumps to the earth, blackening out.
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Maxwell rides on as fast as can. He must reach Elizabeth. He finally begins to catch up to the carriage upon exiting the city and entering the forest. Where is Sean planning on taking her? How far is he planning on going?
Suddenly Maxwell feels it, the fuzzy feeling he first felt the other day in the alley. It is Elizabeth. She is calling him, begging him to help her. Maxwell quickens his speed. Elizabeth needs him.
As he starts getting closer to the carriage, he can see Elizabeth jumping back into the seat through the back window of the carriage. If Sean does something to her … Maxwell feels his anger rising. Fear is coming off of Elizabeth in waves. She is terrified and panicked.
Maxwell sees her pry open the back window and stares right at him. Some fallen strands of her hair are whipping around her face. He can hear her yelling out to him, “HELP!”
Do not worry, love, Maxwell thinks. “I am coming!” he yells back, but it is drowned out by the sound of her loud shriek. Maxwell sees it. Sean is hurting her. That bastard. When Maxwell gets his hands on Sean … Sean is a dead man.
Maxwell is almost there … almost to her when the door opens with a bang and out comes Elizabeth’s body. What is she doing? Maxwell thinks to himself. He stops the horse abruptly, causing the horse to neigh loudly in protest. The carriage also stops and Sean is already running toward Elizabeth.
Maxwell jumps off the horse and runs toward her. He needs to get to her before Sean can lay another finger on her. Hopefully, she is alright and the pain from the impact of the ground is not too much for her. But then, she is still so weak.
Maxwell sees her head fall to the ground, passing out just as Sean reaches her. Maxwell is only a few steps away. He slams his body into Sean’s, shoving the filthy bastard away from his Elizabeth. Maxwell hurdles toward Sean and starts pounding, letting out all his built up rage and anger. For Elizabeth hurting him. For Sean hurting Elizabeth.
Maxwell uses one of his hands to hold Sean up, and the other to pound at him. His hand is already sore from his bashings on the tree earlier that evening, but he pays no heed. He welcomes the pain. It helps him forget about the other aches his body has been subjected to lately … specifically his heart.
Maxwell finally stops himself when Sean slumps to the ground, unconscious. Maxwell has someone else he has to deal with right now. Someone else he has to take care of.
Maxwell turns around toward the spot where he last saw Elizabeth, but she is no longer there. He looks around frantically before spotting her, her dress flowing around her, her hair, a mess, flying back behind her as she runs deeper into the woods. She is running away … away from him … again. Maxwell bites down on his heartache at seeing her retreating figure … fleeing away from him, not wanting to be around him, Maxwell notes painfully, before he runs after her … again.
Elizabeth runs as fast as she can, or rather, staggers. She knows she will not be able to last much longer, but she has to. Something is after her. Something evil. Her senses are fuzzy, warning her to get away ... far away.
When she wakes, she is in pain. Her whole body aches. She looks up and sees the horseman attacking Sean. He looks familiar, the horseman does, but her vision is still foggy from her fall and she cannot make out who he is.
That is when she feels it, the fuzzy feeling that creeps into her mind, warning bells ringing through her ears, telling her to leave. She picks herself up, grimacing at the pain that shoots through her from every part of her body, staggering her first few steps. But her fear pushes her on and keeps her moving.
She is only able to limp a few feet before she hears footsteps following close behind her. She can hear someone calling out her name. At least, she believes she does. It is hard to tell with her senses still hazy from the impact of the ground and the warning bells ringing in her head.
Who ever it is, is close. Elizabeth hears her name being called again. This time she is positive she hears a voice calling to her. This voice, it iss so familiar. It soothes and comforts her, even with the harshness and anger evident in its tone.
With her breathing more labored than ever, Elizabeth turns her head, glancing back and sees him. He stands only a few steps behind her. Though she can see hurt and anger in his eyes, she is more than pleased to see him. “Maxwell …”
Elizabeth moans and cries out as a she feels a sudden sharp pain in her back. Maxwell is at her side instantly. “Elizabeth …” his voice is full of concern, all anger gone. “What is the matter? W-where are you hurt?” he speaks, looking her up and down, taking in all the scars and bruises that are forming all over her body. “Oh god!”
Elizabeth clenches her teeth hard and grimaces as another pain shoots through her. This time, she feels it in her entire body. Maxwell is frantic, not knowing anything better to do, he gently puts his arms around her, pulling her into an embrace, trying to take away all her pain.
At first, Elizabeth tenses as she feels his arms go around her, but she soon relaxes as Maxwell seems to take all the pain away. It is like he absorbs it all into himself, just so that she will feel better. She does not expect to feel warmth and comfort in Maxwell’s arms …but she does … she always does. So many emotions are running through her head as she leans into his embrace.
Suddenly, the fuzzy warning rings in her head again. Warning bells are going off in her mind. The person that she senses, coming after her earlier, is not Maxwell. It is someone else. And that someone is still after her. Evil pulsates off this person. Who ever this person is, they are after her and will stop at nothing until they reach her. They will even kill …
Maxwell loves the feel of Elizabeth in his arms. This is how it is supposed to be … his life with her. He forgets all about Sean, about the ball, about everything. He is completely engrossed in Elizabeth. It is blissful to feel her smooth and honeyed skin underneath his fingertips, to be able to run his fingers through the soft and silky strands of her hair … it is heaven … until she pushes him away.
“N-no … Maxwell,” Elizabeth pants out as she tries her best to push him away. But she is so weak. Her throat feels so dry and her body aches again without Maxwell’s arms around her, to take away the pain. She wants nothing more than to just stay in his arms, but she cannot. She cannot do that … not to him. She cares for him too much, Elizabeth admits to herself. She cannot put him in harm’s way.
“Elizabeth …” Maxwell murmurs softly, pain in his eyes. He removes Elizabeth’s hands from his chest, holding them gently in his own. “You cannot push me away forever …” he whispers out to her.
Elizabeth nearly breaks down at how much pain is in his words … in his eyes, but she can not hurt him … not now … not ever. She slips her hands out of his and throws them around his neck, tiptoeing up to whisper in his ears, that way she will not be able to see the look on his face … the pain in his eyes. “Please Maxwell. Just leave. I need you to leave. I do not want you here.”
Elizabeth slides down Maxwell’s body and hurries off again, the aching of her body goes ignored as she focuses more on the aching she feels in her heart when she sees the devastation in his eyes, but who ever it is, is coming for her, not Maxwell, and she must get away from him, to save him. Elizabeth staggers off into the night again, not glancing back.
Maxwell stares on in disbelief. How can this girl be so fickle? Did he not just feel her responding to him? Did he not just feel her relax in his arms? He did not just imagine that. He knows he did not. He felt it. So why does she keep changing her mind about him?
Maxwell is too shocked to feel her slip down his body, to feel her push away from him, or to noticed her stagger off. When he finally does come out of his reverie, it is too late. She is already gone.
Maxwell turns in circles looking around, trying to find any clue to which direction she went. She may not want him near her, but he will be damned if he is going to allow her to walk away from him like that, especially in her condition.
He closes his eyes tight and tries to sense her again, like he did before.
“Which way did they go?!”
Maxwell hears a voice yell from out of no-where. He hides behind a tree, sucking in his breath and trying to make himself as small as possible, as to not be seen.
“I … I … I do not know,” another voice sobs out.
Maxwell’s eyes widen. He recognizes that voice … those voices. He peeks out from behind the tree, and sure enough, a good distance away stands Khivar, as he towers over a cowering and bloody Sean.
“What do you mean you do not know?!” Khivar shouts as he flings Sean to the ground, causing Sean to yelp out in pain. “I send you out to do one simple task, and you cannot even do that?!”
“M-Maxwell … h-he …” Sean snivels out, backing slowly away from the enraged Khivar.
Khivar walks slowly and deliberately, circling around Sean, like a hawk closing in on its prey.
“Maxwell?” Khivar says in a wickedly calm voice.
Maxwell holds his breath, thinking maybe Khivar has spotted him.
“That sniveling little twerp did this to you?!” Khivar booms out.
Maxwell sees Sean violently nod his head.
Khivar lets out an echoing evil laugh. “YOU were beaten to a pulp … once again … by that little brat?”
Again, Sean nods his head.
Khivar laughs again. “You feeble little weakling. I thought maybe you were ambushed by a group of wood bandits, perhaps they did this to you, and perhaps they made off with the girl, but this was all just Maxwell’s doing?”
Sean nods his head slowly, not liking the sinister look in Khivar’s eyes.
Khivar huffs angrily before holding out his hand to help Sean up. Sean looks at him warily before accepting the hand and pulling himself to his feet.
Once Sean is standing, Khivar still holds onto Sean’s hand in a tight and painful grip. Maxwell can hear Sean moaning in pain as Khivar’s nails dig deep into Sean’s skin. “You have messed up one too many times, and I do not tolerate screw-ups.”
“B … but Khivar. Y … you need me to …” Sean tries to plead.
“Everyone is dispensable to me, especially you,” Khivar speaks, pulling out a knife and jabbing it in Sean’s gut.
Sean yelps out and then grabs his stomach, falling to the ground, and crying out in pain, blood gushing out of him.
Maxwell closes his eyes tight, leans back against the tree, and covers his ears. He does not want to be witness to the murder of a man, even one as vile as Sean Deluca.
When Maxwell finally uncovers his ears a few seconds later, he peeks around the tree to find Sean lying motionless on the ground. Maxwell glances around for any sign of Khivar and can barely make out the faint outline of his retreating back. Khivar is going after Elizabeth now, Maxwell thinks frantically.
Maxwell is going crazy with concern. He must find Elizabeth before Khivar does. Maxwell stops pacing and takes several deep breaths to clear his thoughts. He needs to get to Elizabeth now, but where can she be?
“Think of Elizabeth … think of Elizabeth … think of Elizabeth …” Maxwell mutters to himself over and over again. He thinks about her, about how he first met her, about how gorgeous she is, how her dark brown hair cascades down her back, how her deep brown eyes tend to draw him in.
Maxwell’s eyes suddenly fly open. He senses her. He can faintly feel that fuzzy feeling inside of him again. Maxwell makes a turn, close to in the direction Khivar heads, Maxwell notes dreadfully, and heads off in a hurry. Elizabeth is calling him, and he will be damned if he does not answer her.
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Elizabeth’s body aches. Her side hurts, and she is out of breath. She does not think she can go on any further, but she has to. She has to get as far away from Maxwell as possible. She is not going to get Maxwell hurt while he tries to defend her, which she knows he will.
Elizabeth stumbles a little on her dress, but manages to catch herself before she falls. The scenery … this part of the woods seems awfully familiar to her, but from a fuzzy part of her mind, like from a distant memory … like from a dream … Elizabeth gasps realizing that it was just that. This is her dream … her nightmare.
Terror suddenly comes over her. She has had this nightmare one too many times. Elizabeth knows what is coming … she knows what is going to happen next. But there is no way she can stop it. There is no way she can prevent the inevitable from happening.
That is when she feels it. She feels her foot catch on the root of a tree. She feels herself lose balance. And she feels the hard dirt ground as she falls forward, with not even enough time to brace herself for the fall.
Elizabeth lets out a loud moan and closes her eyes tight. Wincing at the pain from her fall and at what is to happen next. She knows what is to come. This is the part where whoever it is chasing her, catches her. They will reach her and hurt her. But this is not a dream, this time. This time, this is real.
It is real and she is not going to wake soon in her bed and find that it is all a dream. That everyone she has met, even Maxwell, was all a part of her wild imagination. She is not going to wake to the birds singing and the sun shining through her window. Or to the sound of Kyle singing as he cooks her breakfast. She is not going to even get to see Kyle ever again.
Elizabeth tenses as she hears the pounding footsteps behind her, tears streaming down her face. She gives up. She gives in to the pain of her body. She lets it wash over her as her mind drifts to a far off place, where she can live her happy life … with Maxwell. She is completely gone when she feels warm hands lift her into their arms. Hands that are oddly comforting and soothing … hands that can help take all the pain away … if she will let them …
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Chapter Thirty Three:
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He carefully and tenderly lifts his beautiful angel into his arms and notices her eyes slowly shutting. She faints again. She is so weak. She feels so light and frail in his arms … but still so beautiful.
But he does not have time to think about that now. He has to hurry. He can sense Khivar’s presence not very far behind, lurking in the darkness. Since when is he able to sense people?
But it is not really him that senses it. It is Elizabeth. These feelings are coming off of her. Maxwell can feel her body vibrating, warning him in some way as she unconsciously snuggles up closer to him.
Maxwell tightens his grip around her possessively and continues on through the forest and the never-ending maze of trees. He is not sure where he is headed, but this is the direction Elizabeth is running off to before she collapses.
After what seems like hours of running, the muscles in Maxwell’s legs tighten and he grows tired. He is not sure if Khivar is still close on their trail, but he is not going to risk it and wait to find out.
Maxwell feels a small drop of water hit his face and roll down his cheek. He glances up at the sky, and sure enough, rain clouds are forming above him. “Just perfect,” he mutters as he pulls Elizabeth closer to him, trying his best to shield her body from the light sprinkle of raindrops.
Up ahead, he can see the trees giving way to a small mountain or a large hill and a river. The gods are smiling down on him. Maxwell recognizes the area. It is where he, along with Michael and Alexander, used to fish and swim as children.
Maxwell reaches the bottom of the hill and makes a sharp turn right, raindrops beating down harder on him. There is this place that he used to play in as a child. It is a secret lair that they happened upon one day, long ago, hidden away by trees and shrubbery. And that is where Maxwell is headed.
It takes him a while until he finally finds the entrance. What little moonlight there is, is dimming due to the downpour of rain. The wilderness has changed over the years. The trees are larger with more leaves, the entire outside is hidden behind vines and weeds, and the entrance is now a lot smaller than he remembered it to be. It is hard to believe that Maxwell used to know this place by heart, and now it takes him forever to find it. With any luck, Khivar will not be able to find it at all. Hopefully, Khivar gives up on trying to find them all together when it starts pouring.
Maxwell carefully squats down and lowers himself and Elizabeth into the cave. It is far too dark in the cave to see, but hopefully, things are still somewhat in the places he remembers them to be.
Nevertheless, he inches his way through the cave, holding Elizabeth close to make certain he does not accidentally bump her into anything. He can hear thunder echoing and feel the coldness of his soaked clothes down to the bone. Elizabeth’s skin is freezing as well. Although he tried his best to shield her, her gown is almost as completely drenched as his clothes are.
“Alright,” Maxwell mutters once he finds his footing. “Five steps forward,” he says out loud as he ventures out five steps, slowly feeling the ground in front of him before stepping forward, careful not to slip on anything. It will not do him nor Elizabeth any good if he trips in this dead of night.
After the fifth step, Maxwell smiles as he feels the cool wall of the cave on his back. He scoots to the left three spaces, using the wall as a guide, before he slowly slides down the wall until he is seated on the floor of the cave.
He shifts Elizabeth up in his arms until she is seated on his lap, her head leaning on his shoulder. He wipes away some of the water damping her skin before he blindly feels around on the floor. The last time he was out here is years ago, but, with any luck, his things are still here.
His fingers brush against the contours of a hard wooden object. The gods are definitely on his side, probably making up for their slip up earlier this evening, Maxwell thinks, looking back on the night’s events. This is certainly the longest evening ever, and it has yet to end.
Maxwell shakes his head and clears his thoughts. He has things he still has to do. He has to get his old treasure box open, in the dark, and make sure there are still matches inside and that they still work. He has to find their old oil lamp and light that so that they can have light while Maxwell works on getting a fire started from whatever dry wood there is in the cave, before they freeze to death. All while holding onto Elizabeth for as long as possible.
He does not want to have her lying down on the cold, damp and dirty floor. It will only make her condition worse. It took her so long to finally wake the first time, imagine how long it is going to take this time.
But this time, no one is here to force him to stay away from her to let her rest. This time, he will be able to watch after her and he will wait for her. He will wait for her to open her eyes. Open her eyes to wake and to realize just how much he cares for her. How he risked his life like he has, all for her. How he will do anything she wants him to.
Maxwell places his hand on her upper arm, running it up her shoulder, lightly tracing her collarbone, up her neck and cupping her cheek. If it is possible to feel beauty, he just has. Yes. He will most definitely wait … he will wait an eternity.
Maxwell stares down at the beauty before him as he runs his fingers through her hair. After he has the lamp lit, he finds that there is plenty of dry wood in the cave. He has the fire started in no time. The cave is now lit up and warm. It is not much different from how he remembered it to be. There are a few more cobwebs and weeds about. But overall, it is still a nice cozy hideaway.
It has been a few hours since they arrived at the cave and Elizabeth still has yet to stir. Maxwell leans back, his bare back against the cool wall of the cave. He took his shirt off a while ago to spread it on the ground for Elizabeth to lie down upon. He has a feeling that she might be a bit frightened if she wakes, wrapped in someone’s arms. The last thing Maxwell wants to do is to scare her. And he does not want to experience the feeling of her running away from him yet again.
Though it is about an hour before he lifts her head from his shoulder and lays her down. But Maxwell keeps her head propped up in his lap, instinctively running his fingers through her hair, brushing loose strands away from her face and neck, caressing her shoulders, her collarbone, her neck and her cheek on the way. Her skin is no longer cold or damp, but nice and warm again.
Maxwell runs his fingers through her hair once more before he gently lifts her head and lowers her carefully onto the ground, his jacket vest as her pillow. Maxwell reluctantly rises to his feet, his eyes never leaving her. He sighs and turns around, walking about the cave and gathering more firewood. The fire is burning low and he needs to keep Elizabeth warm for however long she is asleep.
The rain is still pouring down outside. Maxwell wonders if it will ever lighten up, but is somewhat praying that it will not, so that he can have more time alone with Elizabeth. The rain is the only thing keeping them in the cave. Khivar should have long given up on trying to find them by now. And most importantly, the rain is what will keep Elizabeth from running away from him … again.
A plan is already forming in his mind as he tends to the fire. When Elizabeth wakes, he will sit with her and tell her exactly how he feels, only this time it will be in a non-pressuring and non-frightening sort of way, unlike how he tried before.
He is a fool for thinking that she would jump for joy at his confession of love earlier. She was scared and she has every right to be. He should have known to think of a better way to tell her that he cares for her … that he loves her. They went from being friends one second, to him practically proposing to her the next. Who would not panic? He professed his never ending love for her and gave her a rather expensive, but utterly beautiful piece of jewelry. Of course it frightened her.
Maxwell glances over at Elizabeth, then at her wrist, still adorned with the bracelet he gave her. He smiles. Her fingers begin moving, curling slightly. He drops the stick he is poking the fire with and rushes toward her, nearly stumbling over his own feet along the way. He kneels down beside her when her eyes begin to flutter.
“Elizabeth …” he whispers her name softly, gently placing his hand over her upper abdomen, feeling her chest rise and fall with every breath she takes. He can feel the warmth of her body through the satiny thin material of her gown.
Maxwell lifts his hand to brush the stray strands, sticking to her face. His fingertips barely brush against her rosy cheek when he hears her speak. He feels her body suddenly tense under his touch, her eyes squeezing together tightly, and her sweet heavenly voice ringing through his ears as her harsh and cold tone chills him to the core. “Do not touch me …”
Maxwell jerks his hand away from her and jumps back. He chuckles sardonically at the situation he is in. Here he is, planning on talking to her rationally about their feelings towards one another, while she does not even want him touching her. He scoffs. Love is anything but rational.
Maxwell looks back towards Elizabeth. She is tossing and turning on the ground, her arms flinging about around her, as if to ward off something. But what he notices most, is that her eyes are still shut and she is murmuring and moaning. She is still not yet awake.
“No … please …. Stop …” she tosses and turns more.
Maxwell leans back toward her, shaking her gently. “Elizabeth …”
He hears her whimper and sees tears coming from the corners of her eyes.
“Elizabeth …” he calls out her name again, this time, bringing his hand up to brush away her tears and caress her cheek. He hears her sigh in content, her lips curving slightly into a smile. Is it his imagination, or did he hear her sigh out his name with a smile on her face?
It must be his imagination, he thinks, at least that is what he thinks until she starts leaning her head into his hand and turns her face to kiss his palm. He blinks several times, staring down at her. He has the goofy grin back on his face. This cave ordeal is looking better and better.
His fingertips lightly trace her features, the slope of her nose, the softness of her cheeks, the featherlike touch of her lashes. All the while, Elizabeth lies passively, her soft pink lips curves in a sweet smile, giggling every now and then from Maxwell’s sweet caresses. Her eyes still remain closed, as if not wanting to wake from her dream just yet.
Maxwell lies down beside her and drapes one arm over her stomach possessively while his other hand continued exploring her, waiting for her to open her eyes and see him. His fingers softly trace around her ear and travel downward to her collarbone as his thumb runs down her jaw line to the base of her throat, eliciting another giggle from Elizabeth’s sweet lips, followed by a soft moan.
Maxwell continues his exploration. He runs his hand across her smooth shoulder, traveling down her arm, his wrist accidentally brushing up against her breast. Maxwell blushes, but Elizabeth does not seem to notice. Her eyes are still shut, still refusing to wake.
Maxwell’s fingers travels down to her hand, he lifts her hand lightly, softly kisses her palm in a show of affection. He hears her gasp slightly. Apparently it has the same affect on her as it does on him.
He intertwines his fingers with hers and kisses it once more before setting it softly down at her side. He runs his fingers through her hair, tucking a few strands behind her ear, whispering to her, “Elizabeth …”
Elizabeth makes a small whimpering noise in response.
Maxwell smiles at her reluctance to open her eyes. “Elizabeth … love … it is time to wake …” he murmurs softly to her. It does not seem appropriate to speak any louder than a soft whisper.
She whimpers again, pouting her lips, and shaking her head slightly.
“Please Elizabeth?” Maxwell asks, his hand tucking an imaginary strand behind her ear, fingers running down the side of her face, and his thumb grazing over her lips, softly.
She still shakes her head.
“But …” Maxwell pouts, “I want to see the heaven in your eyes. The stars tonight just do not seem to shine as brightly. They do not sparkle the way you do.”
Elizabeth’s lips slowly curve into a soft smile as her cheeks blush slightly. She finally opens her eyes, but they are looking in the opposite direction from Maxwell, a smirk on her face.
“You are such a tease,” she taunts before looking up at him while he is partially on top of her. She should stop this, she thinks to herself, but she does not have the strength to. “I am certain you say that to all the girls, sweeping them off their feet,” Elizabeth whispers, batting her eyelashes playfully at him.
“No,” Maxwell says with a smile, shaking his head lightly, “just you.”
Elizabeth’s smile widens. There is something in the way he says it, or the look he gives her when he speaks that makes this feel so good … so right. Her, being here with him. “So …” Elizabeth begins, neither of them having moved from their spot beside each other. “What other lines do you have for me?”
“Plenty,” Maxwell says with a smile. “Would you like to hear them?”
“No …” Elizabeth says shaking her head uninterestedly.
Maxwell’s face falls, his lips frowning as he looks away from her.
“But …” Elizabeth says with an impish grin on her face. “Since we are stuck here, I might as well hear a few of them. Just to make certain you are not making a complete fool of yourself in front of other people. You know, just for your sake, of course.”
“Of course,” Maxwell says, grinning at her.
“Are you going to just stare all night?” Elizabeth asks, wiggling her eyebrows at him.
Maxwell smiles again. “Well, if I had my way, I would gaze into your eyes for an eternity.”
Her breath catches in her throat. The way he looks at her as he speaks makes her heart race. “That is nice,” Elizabeth says, letting out a deep breath after finally coming out of her reverie. “That line will most definitely have you in the good graces of plenty of beautiful young women.”
“It is not a line,” Maxwell speaks sincerely. “And the only beautiful young woman I want is you.”
Elizabeth is getting drawn into his eyes once again, but shakes away her thoughts. “I have one,” she says, clearing her throat and looking into his eyes, trying to turn him into putty with her words like he does to her. “It looks like my prayers have been answered, the gods have made you just for me.”
Maxwell just stares at Elizabeth. The way she is looking at him, the sexy glint in her eyes. “I … I do not know if I have heard that one before …”
Elizabeth smiles. “Do you think you can do better?”
“I do not know …” Maxwell says, shaking his head playfully. “That one is hard to beat.”
“Well, it does not look like the rain will be letting up any time soon,” Elizabeth says, glancing out the entrance before looking back towards him. “So you have all night to try.”
“Just a night?” Maxwell asks, his face solemn, there is so much more underlying in his words than just lines.
“I do not want to bore you,” Elizabeth teases.
“You will never bore me,” Maxwell speaks with so much intent.
Elizabeth’s breath catches in her throat once more at the emotion running through his eyes. How much he is saying in just those few words. He is pleading with her … begging her for something, but she does not know what.
“It is your turn,” Elizabeth clears her throat and smiles, trying to lighten the mood.
Maxwell thinks for a second. “If I could rearrange the alphabet, I would put U and I together.”
Elizabeth laughs before she lets out a long sigh.
“What is the matter?” Maxwell asks, concerned.
“Why is it that I have to climb a hundred mountains to get you, but all you have to do to get me is smile?”
Maxwell’s smile widens, and Elizabeth laughs as he blushes slightly.
“Elizabeth?” Maxwell asks, his tone serious. “I am enjoying this immensely.”
“So am I,” Elizabeth says, looking him in the eye, just so he knows she is speaking truthfully.
“How much longer are you willing to play with me?” Maxwell asks, wanting to know exactly where they are headed.
“Until I bore you, Maxwell,” Elizabeth smiles up at him.
“Good,” Maxwell says with a smile, “an eternity then.”
Elizabeth rolls her eyes. “Or until you run out of lines.”
“Is that a challenge?” Maxwell asks, raising his eyebrows.
“Yes, Mr. Evans, it is,” Elizabeth says with a cool smile on her face. “Do you accept?”
“Always. Evans men never back down from a challenge,” Maxwell says, raising his head high.
“Is that so?” Elizabeth asks mockingly. “You will never back down?”
“Not until the day I die. But …” Maxwell says with a mischievous look in his eyes. “I think I might have already died and gone to heaven because I see an angel before me.”
Elizabeth hits his arm playfully and rolls her eyes. There are so many hidden meanings in what they say. Hopefully, he will not take them all too seriously. She is getting herself into something deep. She knows it. But perhaps, this is where she should be. Perhaps …
She looks back over toward him with a smile. “I can beat that one,” she grins seductively at him. “I am going to have to arrest you Mr. Evans.”
“Why is that?”
“You have clearly stolen all the stars from the sky. I see them sparkling in your eyes.”
“Oh, yes? Well Miss Parker, love is a very complex word, but I think I just found the meaning of it.”
Everything seems to freeze as they stare at each other. Maxwell waits for any type of reaction from Elizabeth. He had not meant to say what he did, but he is not going to deny what he feels. He sees Elizabeth glance around nervously before her eyes settle back on him. She bites her lip slightly before she speaks, “Maxwell …”
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Chapter Thirty Three:
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He carefully and tenderly lifts his beautiful angel into his arms and notices her eyes slowly shutting. She faints again. She is so weak. She feels so light and frail in his arms … but still so beautiful.
But he does not have time to think about that now. He has to hurry. He can sense Khivar’s presence not very far behind, lurking in the darkness. Since when is he able to sense people?
But it is not really him that senses it. It is Elizabeth. These feelings are coming off of her. Maxwell can feel her body vibrating, warning him in some way as she unconsciously snuggles up closer to him.
Maxwell tightens his grip around her possessively and continues on through the forest and the never-ending maze of trees. He is not sure where he is headed, but this is the direction Elizabeth is running off to before she collapses.
After what seems like hours of running, the muscles in Maxwell’s legs tighten and he grows tired. He is not sure if Khivar is still close on their trail, but he is not going to risk it and wait to find out.
Maxwell feels a small drop of water hit his face and roll down his cheek. He glances up at the sky, and sure enough, rain clouds are forming above him. “Just perfect,” he mutters as he pulls Elizabeth closer to him, trying his best to shield her body from the light sprinkle of raindrops.
Up ahead, he can see the trees giving way to a small mountain or a large hill and a river. The gods are smiling down on him. Maxwell recognizes the area. It is where he, along with Michael and Alexander, used to fish and swim as children.
Maxwell reaches the bottom of the hill and makes a sharp turn right, raindrops beating down harder on him. There is this place that he used to play in as a child. It is a secret lair that they happened upon one day, long ago, hidden away by trees and shrubbery. And that is where Maxwell is headed.
It takes him a while until he finally finds the entrance. What little moonlight there is, is dimming due to the downpour of rain. The wilderness has changed over the years. The trees are larger with more leaves, the entire outside is hidden behind vines and weeds, and the entrance is now a lot smaller than he remembered it to be. It is hard to believe that Maxwell used to know this place by heart, and now it takes him forever to find it. With any luck, Khivar will not be able to find it at all. Hopefully, Khivar gives up on trying to find them all together when it starts pouring.
Maxwell carefully squats down and lowers himself and Elizabeth into the cave. It is far too dark in the cave to see, but hopefully, things are still somewhat in the places he remembers them to be.
Nevertheless, he inches his way through the cave, holding Elizabeth close to make certain he does not accidentally bump her into anything. He can hear thunder echoing and feel the coldness of his soaked clothes down to the bone. Elizabeth’s skin is freezing as well. Although he tried his best to shield her, her gown is almost as completely drenched as his clothes are.
“Alright,” Maxwell mutters once he finds his footing. “Five steps forward,” he says out loud as he ventures out five steps, slowly feeling the ground in front of him before stepping forward, careful not to slip on anything. It will not do him nor Elizabeth any good if he trips in this dead of night.
After the fifth step, Maxwell smiles as he feels the cool wall of the cave on his back. He scoots to the left three spaces, using the wall as a guide, before he slowly slides down the wall until he is seated on the floor of the cave.
He shifts Elizabeth up in his arms until she is seated on his lap, her head leaning on his shoulder. He wipes away some of the water damping her skin before he blindly feels around on the floor. The last time he was out here is years ago, but, with any luck, his things are still here.
His fingers brush against the contours of a hard wooden object. The gods are definitely on his side, probably making up for their slip up earlier this evening, Maxwell thinks, looking back on the night’s events. This is certainly the longest evening ever, and it has yet to end.
Maxwell shakes his head and clears his thoughts. He has things he still has to do. He has to get his old treasure box open, in the dark, and make sure there are still matches inside and that they still work. He has to find their old oil lamp and light that so that they can have light while Maxwell works on getting a fire started from whatever dry wood there is in the cave, before they freeze to death. All while holding onto Elizabeth for as long as possible.
He does not want to have her lying down on the cold, damp and dirty floor. It will only make her condition worse. It took her so long to finally wake the first time, imagine how long it is going to take this time.
But this time, no one is here to force him to stay away from her to let her rest. This time, he will be able to watch after her and he will wait for her. He will wait for her to open her eyes. Open her eyes to wake and to realize just how much he cares for her. How he risked his life like he has, all for her. How he will do anything she wants him to.
Maxwell places his hand on her upper arm, running it up her shoulder, lightly tracing her collarbone, up her neck and cupping her cheek. If it is possible to feel beauty, he just has. Yes. He will most definitely wait … he will wait an eternity.
Maxwell stares down at the beauty before him as he runs his fingers through her hair. After he has the lamp lit, he finds that there is plenty of dry wood in the cave. He has the fire started in no time. The cave is now lit up and warm. It is not much different from how he remembered it to be. There are a few more cobwebs and weeds about. But overall, it is still a nice cozy hideaway.
It has been a few hours since they arrived at the cave and Elizabeth still has yet to stir. Maxwell leans back, his bare back against the cool wall of the cave. He took his shirt off a while ago to spread it on the ground for Elizabeth to lie down upon. He has a feeling that she might be a bit frightened if she wakes, wrapped in someone’s arms. The last thing Maxwell wants to do is to scare her. And he does not want to experience the feeling of her running away from him yet again.
Though it is about an hour before he lifts her head from his shoulder and lays her down. But Maxwell keeps her head propped up in his lap, instinctively running his fingers through her hair, brushing loose strands away from her face and neck, caressing her shoulders, her collarbone, her neck and her cheek on the way. Her skin is no longer cold or damp, but nice and warm again.
Maxwell runs his fingers through her hair once more before he gently lifts her head and lowers her carefully onto the ground, his jacket vest as her pillow. Maxwell reluctantly rises to his feet, his eyes never leaving her. He sighs and turns around, walking about the cave and gathering more firewood. The fire is burning low and he needs to keep Elizabeth warm for however long she is asleep.
The rain is still pouring down outside. Maxwell wonders if it will ever lighten up, but is somewhat praying that it will not, so that he can have more time alone with Elizabeth. The rain is the only thing keeping them in the cave. Khivar should have long given up on trying to find them by now. And most importantly, the rain is what will keep Elizabeth from running away from him … again.
A plan is already forming in his mind as he tends to the fire. When Elizabeth wakes, he will sit with her and tell her exactly how he feels, only this time it will be in a non-pressuring and non-frightening sort of way, unlike how he tried before.
He is a fool for thinking that she would jump for joy at his confession of love earlier. She was scared and she has every right to be. He should have known to think of a better way to tell her that he cares for her … that he loves her. They went from being friends one second, to him practically proposing to her the next. Who would not panic? He professed his never ending love for her and gave her a rather expensive, but utterly beautiful piece of jewelry. Of course it frightened her.
Maxwell glances over at Elizabeth, then at her wrist, still adorned with the bracelet he gave her. He smiles. Her fingers begin moving, curling slightly. He drops the stick he is poking the fire with and rushes toward her, nearly stumbling over his own feet along the way. He kneels down beside her when her eyes begin to flutter.
“Elizabeth …” he whispers her name softly, gently placing his hand over her upper abdomen, feeling her chest rise and fall with every breath she takes. He can feel the warmth of her body through the satiny thin material of her gown.
Maxwell lifts his hand to brush the stray strands, sticking to her face. His fingertips barely brush against her rosy cheek when he hears her speak. He feels her body suddenly tense under his touch, her eyes squeezing together tightly, and her sweet heavenly voice ringing through his ears as her harsh and cold tone chills him to the core. “Do not touch me …”
Maxwell jerks his hand away from her and jumps back. He chuckles sardonically at the situation he is in. Here he is, planning on talking to her rationally about their feelings towards one another, while she does not even want him touching her. He scoffs. Love is anything but rational.
Maxwell looks back towards Elizabeth. She is tossing and turning on the ground, her arms flinging about around her, as if to ward off something. But what he notices most, is that her eyes are still shut and she is murmuring and moaning. She is still not yet awake.
“No … please …. Stop …” she tosses and turns more.
Maxwell leans back toward her, shaking her gently. “Elizabeth …”
He hears her whimper and sees tears coming from the corners of her eyes.
“Elizabeth …” he calls out her name again, this time, bringing his hand up to brush away her tears and caress her cheek. He hears her sigh in content, her lips curving slightly into a smile. Is it his imagination, or did he hear her sigh out his name with a smile on her face?
It must be his imagination, he thinks, at least that is what he thinks until she starts leaning her head into his hand and turns her face to kiss his palm. He blinks several times, staring down at her. He has the goofy grin back on his face. This cave ordeal is looking better and better.
His fingertips lightly trace her features, the slope of her nose, the softness of her cheeks, the featherlike touch of her lashes. All the while, Elizabeth lies passively, her soft pink lips curves in a sweet smile, giggling every now and then from Maxwell’s sweet caresses. Her eyes still remain closed, as if not wanting to wake from her dream just yet.
Maxwell lies down beside her and drapes one arm over her stomach possessively while his other hand continued exploring her, waiting for her to open her eyes and see him. His fingers softly trace around her ear and travel downward to her collarbone as his thumb runs down her jaw line to the base of her throat, eliciting another giggle from Elizabeth’s sweet lips, followed by a soft moan.
Maxwell continues his exploration. He runs his hand across her smooth shoulder, traveling down her arm, his wrist accidentally brushing up against her breast. Maxwell blushes, but Elizabeth does not seem to notice. Her eyes are still shut, still refusing to wake.
Maxwell’s fingers travels down to her hand, he lifts her hand lightly, softly kisses her palm in a show of affection. He hears her gasp slightly. Apparently it has the same affect on her as it does on him.
He intertwines his fingers with hers and kisses it once more before setting it softly down at her side. He runs his fingers through her hair, tucking a few strands behind her ear, whispering to her, “Elizabeth …”
Elizabeth makes a small whimpering noise in response.
Maxwell smiles at her reluctance to open her eyes. “Elizabeth … love … it is time to wake …” he murmurs softly to her. It does not seem appropriate to speak any louder than a soft whisper.
She whimpers again, pouting her lips, and shaking her head slightly.
“Please Elizabeth?” Maxwell asks, his hand tucking an imaginary strand behind her ear, fingers running down the side of her face, and his thumb grazing over her lips, softly.
She still shakes her head.
“But …” Maxwell pouts, “I want to see the heaven in your eyes. The stars tonight just do not seem to shine as brightly. They do not sparkle the way you do.”
Elizabeth’s lips slowly curve into a soft smile as her cheeks blush slightly. She finally opens her eyes, but they are looking in the opposite direction from Maxwell, a smirk on her face.
“You are such a tease,” she taunts before looking up at him while he is partially on top of her. She should stop this, she thinks to herself, but she does not have the strength to. “I am certain you say that to all the girls, sweeping them off their feet,” Elizabeth whispers, batting her eyelashes playfully at him.
“No,” Maxwell says with a smile, shaking his head lightly, “just you.”
Elizabeth’s smile widens. There is something in the way he says it, or the look he gives her when he speaks that makes this feel so good … so right. Her, being here with him. “So …” Elizabeth begins, neither of them having moved from their spot beside each other. “What other lines do you have for me?”
“Plenty,” Maxwell says with a smile. “Would you like to hear them?”
“No …” Elizabeth says shaking her head uninterestedly.
Maxwell’s face falls, his lips frowning as he looks away from her.
“But …” Elizabeth says with an impish grin on her face. “Since we are stuck here, I might as well hear a few of them. Just to make certain you are not making a complete fool of yourself in front of other people. You know, just for your sake, of course.”
“Of course,” Maxwell says, grinning at her.
“Are you going to just stare all night?” Elizabeth asks, wiggling her eyebrows at him.
Maxwell smiles again. “Well, if I had my way, I would gaze into your eyes for an eternity.”
Her breath catches in her throat. The way he looks at her as he speaks makes her heart race. “That is nice,” Elizabeth says, letting out a deep breath after finally coming out of her reverie. “That line will most definitely have you in the good graces of plenty of beautiful young women.”
“It is not a line,” Maxwell speaks sincerely. “And the only beautiful young woman I want is you.”
Elizabeth is getting drawn into his eyes once again, but shakes away her thoughts. “I have one,” she says, clearing her throat and looking into his eyes, trying to turn him into putty with her words like he does to her. “It looks like my prayers have been answered, the gods have made you just for me.”
Maxwell just stares at Elizabeth. The way she is looking at him, the sexy glint in her eyes. “I … I do not know if I have heard that one before …”
Elizabeth smiles. “Do you think you can do better?”
“I do not know …” Maxwell says, shaking his head playfully. “That one is hard to beat.”
“Well, it does not look like the rain will be letting up any time soon,” Elizabeth says, glancing out the entrance before looking back towards him. “So you have all night to try.”
“Just a night?” Maxwell asks, his face solemn, there is so much more underlying in his words than just lines.
“I do not want to bore you,” Elizabeth teases.
“You will never bore me,” Maxwell speaks with so much intent.
Elizabeth’s breath catches in her throat once more at the emotion running through his eyes. How much he is saying in just those few words. He is pleading with her … begging her for something, but she does not know what.
“It is your turn,” Elizabeth clears her throat and smiles, trying to lighten the mood.
Maxwell thinks for a second. “If I could rearrange the alphabet, I would put U and I together.”
Elizabeth laughs before she lets out a long sigh.
“What is the matter?” Maxwell asks, concerned.
“Why is it that I have to climb a hundred mountains to get you, but all you have to do to get me is smile?”
Maxwell’s smile widens, and Elizabeth laughs as he blushes slightly.
“Elizabeth?” Maxwell asks, his tone serious. “I am enjoying this immensely.”
“So am I,” Elizabeth says, looking him in the eye, just so he knows she is speaking truthfully.
“How much longer are you willing to play with me?” Maxwell asks, wanting to know exactly where they are headed.
“Until I bore you, Maxwell,” Elizabeth smiles up at him.
“Good,” Maxwell says with a smile, “an eternity then.”
Elizabeth rolls her eyes. “Or until you run out of lines.”
“Is that a challenge?” Maxwell asks, raising his eyebrows.
“Yes, Mr. Evans, it is,” Elizabeth says with a cool smile on her face. “Do you accept?”
“Always. Evans men never back down from a challenge,” Maxwell says, raising his head high.
“Is that so?” Elizabeth asks mockingly. “You will never back down?”
“Not until the day I die. But …” Maxwell says with a mischievous look in his eyes. “I think I might have already died and gone to heaven because I see an angel before me.”
Elizabeth hits his arm playfully and rolls her eyes. There are so many hidden meanings in what they say. Hopefully, he will not take them all too seriously. She is getting herself into something deep. She knows it. But perhaps, this is where she should be. Perhaps …
She looks back over toward him with a smile. “I can beat that one,” she grins seductively at him. “I am going to have to arrest you Mr. Evans.”
“Why is that?”
“You have clearly stolen all the stars from the sky. I see them sparkling in your eyes.”
“Oh, yes? Well Miss Parker, love is a very complex word, but I think I just found the meaning of it.”
Everything seems to freeze as they stare at each other. Maxwell waits for any type of reaction from Elizabeth. He had not meant to say what he did, but he is not going to deny what he feels. He sees Elizabeth glance around nervously before her eyes settle back on him. She bites her lip slightly before she speaks, “Maxwell …”
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Chapter Thirty Four:
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“Where are they?” Maria screeches as she paces back and forth in the now empty ballroom. The ball has ended hours ago and neither Elizabeth nor Maxwell are accounted for. Maria paces more and more, practically losing her mind. Too much has happened in one night. First the Elizabeth ordeal, the Courtney ordeal, the Khivar ordeal, and now Maxwell’s and Elizabeth’s disappearances.
Maria practically pounces Michael and Alexander as they enter the house. “Did you find them?”
Alexander lowers his head and walks over to the living area, where Isabella is sitting, waiting for any word on what happened to Maxwell and Elizabeth. Isabella looks up at him, her eyes hopeful. Alexander shakes his head and pulls Isabella into his arms as she cries her eyes out.
Michael looks at Maria, closes his eyes and sighs as he shakes his head back and forth.
“Are you certain?” Maria asks, frantic. “Are you certain you checked the entire garden? They were out there earlier, were they not?”
Michael sympathizes with his fiancé. Everyone is worried over Maxwell and Elizabeth. They had all seen the harsh words exchanged between the two before Elizabeth ran out into the garden. “Yes, Maria. They were out there. But …”
“Good,” Maria interrupts. “Then I will just have to go out there and find them.”
Michael grabs a hold of Maria’s waist before she even reaches the back door that leads out into the garden. “Maria, it is pouring rain outside. You cannot go out there. You will fall ill.”
“But what if they are out there, Michael?” Maria sobs out as she leans into his shoulder. “What if they are trapped out there somewhere, waiting for us to find them?”
“I am certain they are fine, Maria,” Michael assures her, pulling her closer to him.
“How can you be certain?” Maria blubbers out as she lets him soothe her and take all her cares away.
“I am not,” Michael admits. “But I have faith in Maxwell. And I know that Maxwell will never allow anything happen to Elizabeth. Not if he can help it.”
“Does he really care for her that much?” comes a voice from behind them.
Michael breaks away from their hug and spins around to face the voice.
“I am sorry. I do not mean to intrude,” the man apologizes to Michael, “but I heard you speaking of my Elizabeth.”
“Michael, this is King Jeffrey,” Maria introduces her fiancé to the King. “His Highness, as well as the Queen, have offered to stay with us and help in our search for Maxwell and Elizabeth.”
Michael bows his head to greet the King. “Your Majesty. I thank you greatly for your help in searching for my brother. Pardon my asking, but what is this about Elizabeth being your Elizabeth?”
“I would like to explain it just one time tonight. I suggest we find Elizabeth first, and then I will explain myself, to her and to everyone else,” King Jeffrey offers. “Now, what is this about Maxwell with Elizabeth? Are they … involved?”
“Not exactly,” Maria offers. “They both care deeply for each other though neither will admit it. Or rather, Elizabeth will not admit to it.”
Jeffrey nods in understanding. “And still no word as to where they are?” King Jeffrey asks with a frown.
“No,” Maria shakes her head. “I apologize.”
Jeffrey sighs, closing his eyes. The King’s breathing becomes more labored. He lets out a deep breath, inhales greatly, and lets out another deep breath.
“A-are you alright, your Highness?” Michael asks. Both Michael and Maria are becoming concerned.
“I … I … I am fine,” King Jeffrey huffs out, holding a hand over his chest. He turns and glances about the room. “Nancy?”
“I am here. I am here,” Nancy calls out as she rushes over to him. Jeffrey leans towards her, slumping over. Nancy looks towards Michael. “Can you help me? He needs to lie down.”
Michael nods his head and stands over beside the King. Michael throws one of the King’s arms around his neck to hang on to as his arm goes around the King’s waist. And together, they hobble over to the settee. Michael lays Jeffrey down on the sofa and Nancy sits beside him.
Michael and Maria watch on in wonderment as Nancy intertwines her fingers with his with one of her hands. Her other hand cups his cheek, Jeffrey smiling at her touch. It is as though she were taking away his pain. Nancy’s hand traveling down to his throat and to his chest. Jeffrey’s breathing seems to clear up instantly at her touch.
They continue the process a few more times before Jeffrey sits back up, completely refreshed again. He smiles at Nancy and she smiles back.
“What just happened?” Maria asks, her mouth still hanging open at what she saw.
Jeffrey smiles at her and begins his explanation. “It is a part of the magic that the royal-blooded possess. It is hard to explain. When you give your love to someone,” Jeffrey glances at Nancy, “it is as though you give them a part of yourself. Your life is in their hands and you must trust them. They can either hurt you or heal you. That is why I needed to know about Maxwell. If Elizabeth loves him, as you say, it is best that he is there with her, especially if she is hurt in any way. It is the only way she will heal, if she will even heal, that is.”
Maria and Michael nods in understanding, although they do not actually grasp the entire concept.
Just then, Philip, Diane, and Kyle enter the room.
Michael is the first to see them. “Did you find Maxwell and Elizabeth?”
Philip shakes his head. “They are not at the house. Kyle says they have not been back to the house all night.”
“Kyle … you look familiar …” Jeffrey says, squinting his eyes at he monk. “Were you ever in the palace?”
“Umm …” Kyle clears his throat. “I … I … umm …”
“Where is the Governor?” Michael asks upon noticing his uncle’s discomfort.
“He is sending out a search party,” Diane informs them.
“We also have people out looking for them,” Jeffrey says, standing up. “My men are to inform me immediately upon finding any information.”
“That is good,” Philip speaks up as he begins pacing. “The more people out there looking for them, the sooner we will find them.”
“Philip …” Diane walks over to her husband and tries to console him.
Alexander motions for her to take the loveseat he and Isabella are seated in. Diane nods at him and leads Philip over to take a seat.
“I know everyone is worried,” Alexander speaks to the group. “But we are not going to help Maxwell and Elizabeth any if all we can do is panic. We must keep our faith and hope for the best. Pray that they are fine.”
Everyone nods their agreement. Isabella walks over to him and gives him a soft peck on the cheek. She loves how he is always so levelheaded, especially in situations like these.
Everyone waits patiently after Alexander’s little speech. Correction, they wait patiently all for about thirty seconds until the King stands and begins pacing. He has just now found his daughter and she has disappeared before he can even approach her to speak with her.
He still cannot believe how beautiful she is, and how grown up. Nor can he fathom how much of her life he has already missed out on. But that is going to change, as soon as he finds her, he is going to bring her back to the palace and give her the life she deserves as the Princess and rightful heir.
Suddenly, guards burst into the room, tracking mud and water into the house. “Your Highness,” the chief guard speaks while the rest of the guards kneel until Jeffrey motions for them to stand. “We have found something.”
“You found her?” Jeffrey asks, his voice ecstatic.
“No, your Majesty,” the guard speaks, shaking his head from side to side. “We have found a body.”
“A body?” Maria gasps.
“Yes. A dead body. He has not been identified yet, but he is a young man, looks about eighteen, brown hair, dressed in formal wear, so we believe that he was in attendance at this ball.”
“H … how did he die?” Philip asks, fearing the worst.
“Stabbed, sir. Bled to death. He is also badly injured with many wounds. He was obviously attacked,” the guard informs them.
“Dear god …” Maria mutters as she sinks to the floor.
Michael stoops down and gathers her into his arms. “W-w … where did you find the body?” Michael asks reluctantly.
“In the forest,” the guard notifies them. “But we still have yet to identify him.”
“MAXWELL!!” Diane screams as she jumps from her seat beside Philip and rushes out the door before anyone can stop her.
“Mother!”
“Diane!”
“Mother!”
Different voices call out to her. But she ignores them as she bolts out the door to find him … her son … her Maxwell …
--------------
“Maxwell … I …” Elizabeth looks about the cave frantically. Things are not supposed to be this way. Things are becoming complicated. And complications are not good. She is to be preparing her soul for the life of …
Her thoughts are interrupted by the low grumbling of her stomach. Elizabeth bites her lower lip and looks away, embarrassed.
Maxwell just smiles at her. “Hungry?” he asks, smirking slightly.
Elizabeth nods her head, still not looking at him.
“I will be right back,” Maxwell says as he jumps to his feet before she can stop him, not that her mind is working well enough for her to be able to. Her eyes take in the sight before her. She has the most incredible view of Maxwell when he stands. He stands tall, his chest bare, gleaming in the firelight. His muscles are sleek and smooth. He is like a Greek god, an Adonis. Elizabeth wonders where in the world he was hiding such a beautiful body like his.
Maxwell smiles under her intense scrutiny. Her small smile and her glazed eyes tell him she most likely enjoys what she sees. He is suddenly very thankful for all of those days of hard labor he endured when he worked for his father in the warehouse. He did it all for Elizabeth in the first place. And she looks speechless. Maxwell chuckles. He probably had the same look on his face the first time he laid eyes on her.
The look in her eye tempts him so, but he has other things he must take care of first, namely her. He cannot take advantage of her … not now … not yet, at least … Maxwell thinks with a wicked gleam in his eyes as he turns and leaves out the entrance, welcoming the cool rain that pours down on him.
Elizabeth is pulled out of her thoughts as she notices his slight shiver upon stepping out into the rain. He has to be completely insane. Or just praying to become ill. Where is Maxwell going in the rain? It has died down a little, but is still pouring hard enough to where they are still confined to stay within the cave walls. At least, Maxwell insists that she does. Apparently the rules do not apply to him.
Elizabeth sits up, pulling her legs close to her body. Maxwell would not allow her to sit up earlier, saying that she needed the rest, but she feels fine, completely recuperated back to her old self, if not better. But she shivers suddenly. Her heart begins beating a bit quicker. The cave feels so empty without Maxwell here with her. Elizabeth’s body is trembling. She feels so cold. She tries shifting closer to the fire, but it does not have as much affect on her as it had earlier. Or maybe it is just Maxwell who was keeping her warm, comforting her.
When Maxwell returns to the cave, he is soaking wet from head to toe. His arms were filled with wild berries. He sees Elizabeth lying down on the floor where he left her, her head leaning on one of her arms, and her legs pulled up close to her body. Maxwell smiles. She is probably tired. She is still ill, she needs her rest. He drops the berries into his jacket vest and sets them aside. He stands near the fire, opposite from Elizabeth and tries to wipe some of the water off of his skin and dry his clothes before he goes near her.
After Maxwell is somewhat dry, he walks over to Elizabeth and sits beside her with a smile. He lies down next to her, his body brushing up against hers. That is when he notices it. Elizabeth is shivering, her body shaking. Maxwell straightens her legs, lying her down on her back. Her eyes are closed and her lips are quivering. He places one hand on her abdomen and feels her chest rise and fall at a frantic rate as she breathes. He lifts his other hand to feel her forehead and her cheek. Her skin is so cold.
Maxwell begins to panic. He shifts her closer to the fire. “Elizabeth …” he calls out to her, trying to wake her so that she can tell him what is wrong. She was perfectly fine before he left. Why did he leave? Maxwell kicks himself for having ever left her alone. This is how the whole ordeal began in the first place, when he left her.
“Elizabeth … love … you must wake up,” he pleads with her. “Open your eyes for me, Elizabeth. Tell me what is wrong.”
Elizabeth’s eyelids flutter slightly, but she does not open her eyes. Her lips quivered more, “cold … so cold …”
--------------
“This is it, right here,” the chief guard points to the cloth-covered body on the ground.
Everyone is gathered about the body, protected from the rain by umbrellas, though there is not much rain left, it seems to have died down greatly. Alexander shares an umbrella with Isabella. Michael with Maria. Philip with Diane. And three guards holding umbrellas over the Queen, the King, and the Governor.
“Are you ready?” the guard asks as he bends down, grabbing a hold of one end of the cloth covering. He sees the women basically covering their eyes and leaning into the shoulders of their respective others, while the men nod their heads desolately.
The chief guard pulls back the sheet slowly, and only enough to see the pale and bruised face of the body, in order to identify him. Gasps are heard from everyone. The women turn their heads away, as do the men.
The governor stoops down, staring at the face. He lifts the sheet up slightly, to where only he and the chief guard are able to see the bloody body, before dropping the sheet carefully, covering the entire body once more.
“It is Sean …” Valenti says softly.
The King and Queen stare at the governor, a confused and questioning look on their faces.
“Not Maxwell …” Valenti says, shaking his head. The King and Queen nod their heads.
Everyone closes their eyes, saying a silent prayer for him. The women cry while the men bow their heads in grief for the loss of such a young man, a young man who had his entire future ahead of him.
Sean may not have been liked by many, but everyone, excluding the Queen and King have known him for almost all of his life. They have all learned to tolerate him. How can they not be mournful?
Everyone is silent for a long period of time, no one certain of what to say, until Alexander voices what is on everyone’s mind. “Where is Maxwell?”
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Chapter Thirty Four:
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“Where are they?” Maria screeches as she paces back and forth in the now empty ballroom. The ball has ended hours ago and neither Elizabeth nor Maxwell are accounted for. Maria paces more and more, practically losing her mind. Too much has happened in one night. First the Elizabeth ordeal, the Courtney ordeal, the Khivar ordeal, and now Maxwell’s and Elizabeth’s disappearances.
Maria practically pounces Michael and Alexander as they enter the house. “Did you find them?”
Alexander lowers his head and walks over to the living area, where Isabella is sitting, waiting for any word on what happened to Maxwell and Elizabeth. Isabella looks up at him, her eyes hopeful. Alexander shakes his head and pulls Isabella into his arms as she cries her eyes out.
Michael looks at Maria, closes his eyes and sighs as he shakes his head back and forth.
“Are you certain?” Maria asks, frantic. “Are you certain you checked the entire garden? They were out there earlier, were they not?”
Michael sympathizes with his fiancé. Everyone is worried over Maxwell and Elizabeth. They had all seen the harsh words exchanged between the two before Elizabeth ran out into the garden. “Yes, Maria. They were out there. But …”
“Good,” Maria interrupts. “Then I will just have to go out there and find them.”
Michael grabs a hold of Maria’s waist before she even reaches the back door that leads out into the garden. “Maria, it is pouring rain outside. You cannot go out there. You will fall ill.”
“But what if they are out there, Michael?” Maria sobs out as she leans into his shoulder. “What if they are trapped out there somewhere, waiting for us to find them?”
“I am certain they are fine, Maria,” Michael assures her, pulling her closer to him.
“How can you be certain?” Maria blubbers out as she lets him soothe her and take all her cares away.
“I am not,” Michael admits. “But I have faith in Maxwell. And I know that Maxwell will never allow anything happen to Elizabeth. Not if he can help it.”
“Does he really care for her that much?” comes a voice from behind them.
Michael breaks away from their hug and spins around to face the voice.
“I am sorry. I do not mean to intrude,” the man apologizes to Michael, “but I heard you speaking of my Elizabeth.”
“Michael, this is King Jeffrey,” Maria introduces her fiancé to the King. “His Highness, as well as the Queen, have offered to stay with us and help in our search for Maxwell and Elizabeth.”
Michael bows his head to greet the King. “Your Majesty. I thank you greatly for your help in searching for my brother. Pardon my asking, but what is this about Elizabeth being your Elizabeth?”
“I would like to explain it just one time tonight. I suggest we find Elizabeth first, and then I will explain myself, to her and to everyone else,” King Jeffrey offers. “Now, what is this about Maxwell with Elizabeth? Are they … involved?”
“Not exactly,” Maria offers. “They both care deeply for each other though neither will admit it. Or rather, Elizabeth will not admit to it.”
Jeffrey nods in understanding. “And still no word as to where they are?” King Jeffrey asks with a frown.
“No,” Maria shakes her head. “I apologize.”
Jeffrey sighs, closing his eyes. The King’s breathing becomes more labored. He lets out a deep breath, inhales greatly, and lets out another deep breath.
“A-are you alright, your Highness?” Michael asks. Both Michael and Maria are becoming concerned.
“I … I … I am fine,” King Jeffrey huffs out, holding a hand over his chest. He turns and glances about the room. “Nancy?”
“I am here. I am here,” Nancy calls out as she rushes over to him. Jeffrey leans towards her, slumping over. Nancy looks towards Michael. “Can you help me? He needs to lie down.”
Michael nods his head and stands over beside the King. Michael throws one of the King’s arms around his neck to hang on to as his arm goes around the King’s waist. And together, they hobble over to the settee. Michael lays Jeffrey down on the sofa and Nancy sits beside him.
Michael and Maria watch on in wonderment as Nancy intertwines her fingers with his with one of her hands. Her other hand cups his cheek, Jeffrey smiling at her touch. It is as though she were taking away his pain. Nancy’s hand traveling down to his throat and to his chest. Jeffrey’s breathing seems to clear up instantly at her touch.
They continue the process a few more times before Jeffrey sits back up, completely refreshed again. He smiles at Nancy and she smiles back.
“What just happened?” Maria asks, her mouth still hanging open at what she saw.
Jeffrey smiles at her and begins his explanation. “It is a part of the magic that the royal-blooded possess. It is hard to explain. When you give your love to someone,” Jeffrey glances at Nancy, “it is as though you give them a part of yourself. Your life is in their hands and you must trust them. They can either hurt you or heal you. That is why I needed to know about Maxwell. If Elizabeth loves him, as you say, it is best that he is there with her, especially if she is hurt in any way. It is the only way she will heal, if she will even heal, that is.”
Maria and Michael nods in understanding, although they do not actually grasp the entire concept.
Just then, Philip, Diane, and Kyle enter the room.
Michael is the first to see them. “Did you find Maxwell and Elizabeth?”
Philip shakes his head. “They are not at the house. Kyle says they have not been back to the house all night.”
“Kyle … you look familiar …” Jeffrey says, squinting his eyes at he monk. “Were you ever in the palace?”
“Umm …” Kyle clears his throat. “I … I … umm …”
“Where is the Governor?” Michael asks upon noticing his uncle’s discomfort.
“He is sending out a search party,” Diane informs them.
“We also have people out looking for them,” Jeffrey says, standing up. “My men are to inform me immediately upon finding any information.”
“That is good,” Philip speaks up as he begins pacing. “The more people out there looking for them, the sooner we will find them.”
“Philip …” Diane walks over to her husband and tries to console him.
Alexander motions for her to take the loveseat he and Isabella are seated in. Diane nods at him and leads Philip over to take a seat.
“I know everyone is worried,” Alexander speaks to the group. “But we are not going to help Maxwell and Elizabeth any if all we can do is panic. We must keep our faith and hope for the best. Pray that they are fine.”
Everyone nods their agreement. Isabella walks over to him and gives him a soft peck on the cheek. She loves how he is always so levelheaded, especially in situations like these.
Everyone waits patiently after Alexander’s little speech. Correction, they wait patiently all for about thirty seconds until the King stands and begins pacing. He has just now found his daughter and she has disappeared before he can even approach her to speak with her.
He still cannot believe how beautiful she is, and how grown up. Nor can he fathom how much of her life he has already missed out on. But that is going to change, as soon as he finds her, he is going to bring her back to the palace and give her the life she deserves as the Princess and rightful heir.
Suddenly, guards burst into the room, tracking mud and water into the house. “Your Highness,” the chief guard speaks while the rest of the guards kneel until Jeffrey motions for them to stand. “We have found something.”
“You found her?” Jeffrey asks, his voice ecstatic.
“No, your Majesty,” the guard speaks, shaking his head from side to side. “We have found a body.”
“A body?” Maria gasps.
“Yes. A dead body. He has not been identified yet, but he is a young man, looks about eighteen, brown hair, dressed in formal wear, so we believe that he was in attendance at this ball.”
“H … how did he die?” Philip asks, fearing the worst.
“Stabbed, sir. Bled to death. He is also badly injured with many wounds. He was obviously attacked,” the guard informs them.
“Dear god …” Maria mutters as she sinks to the floor.
Michael stoops down and gathers her into his arms. “W-w … where did you find the body?” Michael asks reluctantly.
“In the forest,” the guard notifies them. “But we still have yet to identify him.”
“MAXWELL!!” Diane screams as she jumps from her seat beside Philip and rushes out the door before anyone can stop her.
“Mother!”
“Diane!”
“Mother!”
Different voices call out to her. But she ignores them as she bolts out the door to find him … her son … her Maxwell …
--------------
“Maxwell … I …” Elizabeth looks about the cave frantically. Things are not supposed to be this way. Things are becoming complicated. And complications are not good. She is to be preparing her soul for the life of …
Her thoughts are interrupted by the low grumbling of her stomach. Elizabeth bites her lower lip and looks away, embarrassed.
Maxwell just smiles at her. “Hungry?” he asks, smirking slightly.
Elizabeth nods her head, still not looking at him.
“I will be right back,” Maxwell says as he jumps to his feet before she can stop him, not that her mind is working well enough for her to be able to. Her eyes take in the sight before her. She has the most incredible view of Maxwell when he stands. He stands tall, his chest bare, gleaming in the firelight. His muscles are sleek and smooth. He is like a Greek god, an Adonis. Elizabeth wonders where in the world he was hiding such a beautiful body like his.
Maxwell smiles under her intense scrutiny. Her small smile and her glazed eyes tell him she most likely enjoys what she sees. He is suddenly very thankful for all of those days of hard labor he endured when he worked for his father in the warehouse. He did it all for Elizabeth in the first place. And she looks speechless. Maxwell chuckles. He probably had the same look on his face the first time he laid eyes on her.
The look in her eye tempts him so, but he has other things he must take care of first, namely her. He cannot take advantage of her … not now … not yet, at least … Maxwell thinks with a wicked gleam in his eyes as he turns and leaves out the entrance, welcoming the cool rain that pours down on him.
Elizabeth is pulled out of her thoughts as she notices his slight shiver upon stepping out into the rain. He has to be completely insane. Or just praying to become ill. Where is Maxwell going in the rain? It has died down a little, but is still pouring hard enough to where they are still confined to stay within the cave walls. At least, Maxwell insists that she does. Apparently the rules do not apply to him.
Elizabeth sits up, pulling her legs close to her body. Maxwell would not allow her to sit up earlier, saying that she needed the rest, but she feels fine, completely recuperated back to her old self, if not better. But she shivers suddenly. Her heart begins beating a bit quicker. The cave feels so empty without Maxwell here with her. Elizabeth’s body is trembling. She feels so cold. She tries shifting closer to the fire, but it does not have as much affect on her as it had earlier. Or maybe it is just Maxwell who was keeping her warm, comforting her.
When Maxwell returns to the cave, he is soaking wet from head to toe. His arms were filled with wild berries. He sees Elizabeth lying down on the floor where he left her, her head leaning on one of her arms, and her legs pulled up close to her body. Maxwell smiles. She is probably tired. She is still ill, she needs her rest. He drops the berries into his jacket vest and sets them aside. He stands near the fire, opposite from Elizabeth and tries to wipe some of the water off of his skin and dry his clothes before he goes near her.
After Maxwell is somewhat dry, he walks over to Elizabeth and sits beside her with a smile. He lies down next to her, his body brushing up against hers. That is when he notices it. Elizabeth is shivering, her body shaking. Maxwell straightens her legs, lying her down on her back. Her eyes are closed and her lips are quivering. He places one hand on her abdomen and feels her chest rise and fall at a frantic rate as she breathes. He lifts his other hand to feel her forehead and her cheek. Her skin is so cold.
Maxwell begins to panic. He shifts her closer to the fire. “Elizabeth …” he calls out to her, trying to wake her so that she can tell him what is wrong. She was perfectly fine before he left. Why did he leave? Maxwell kicks himself for having ever left her alone. This is how the whole ordeal began in the first place, when he left her.
“Elizabeth … love … you must wake up,” he pleads with her. “Open your eyes for me, Elizabeth. Tell me what is wrong.”
Elizabeth’s eyelids flutter slightly, but she does not open her eyes. Her lips quivered more, “cold … so cold …”
--------------
“This is it, right here,” the chief guard points to the cloth-covered body on the ground.
Everyone is gathered about the body, protected from the rain by umbrellas, though there is not much rain left, it seems to have died down greatly. Alexander shares an umbrella with Isabella. Michael with Maria. Philip with Diane. And three guards holding umbrellas over the Queen, the King, and the Governor.
“Are you ready?” the guard asks as he bends down, grabbing a hold of one end of the cloth covering. He sees the women basically covering their eyes and leaning into the shoulders of their respective others, while the men nod their heads desolately.
The chief guard pulls back the sheet slowly, and only enough to see the pale and bruised face of the body, in order to identify him. Gasps are heard from everyone. The women turn their heads away, as do the men.
The governor stoops down, staring at the face. He lifts the sheet up slightly, to where only he and the chief guard are able to see the bloody body, before dropping the sheet carefully, covering the entire body once more.
“It is Sean …” Valenti says softly.
The King and Queen stare at the governor, a confused and questioning look on their faces.
“Not Maxwell …” Valenti says, shaking his head. The King and Queen nod their heads.
Everyone closes their eyes, saying a silent prayer for him. The women cry while the men bow their heads in grief for the loss of such a young man, a young man who had his entire future ahead of him.
Sean may not have been liked by many, but everyone, excluding the Queen and King have known him for almost all of his life. They have all learned to tolerate him. How can they not be mournful?
Everyone is silent for a long period of time, no one certain of what to say, until Alexander voices what is on everyone’s mind. “Where is Maxwell?”
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Chapter Thirty Five:
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Maxwell is frantic. Elizabeth is cold. What is he to do?
“It is alright …” Maxwell whispers to her, more so to reassure himself rather than to reassure her. “It is going to be alright.”
Maxwell lifts Elizabeth’s body into his arms, shifting closer to the fire. Elizabeth sits in his lap as he pulls her body closer in contact with his.
Elizabeth leans her head onto his shoulder and pulls her legs up closer to her body, so that she is clinging to Maxwell, not simply because she desires to, it is because Maxwell is so warm.
Her shoulders curl in toward his and he can feel how cold she is. He grabs his shirt from off the ground and drapes it around her shoulders. He feels her body shiver and shake, her lips quivering against his shoulder.
“Good god … Elizabeth …” His hands around her hold her tighter. His arms rub fiercely against her skin as he tries his best to keep her warm.
Elizabeth’s body suddenly heats up, her breathing calming to normal. Maxwell is more confused than ever. He loosens his grip around her, but she keeps her hold onto his body, her head never leaving his shoulder.
They sit there for a while, Elizabeth simply enjoying being in his arms. Maxwell starts to wonder if she has fallen asleep. But when he tilts his head to look at her, he finds her eyes gazing right at him.
She smiles at him, but keeps her head on his shoulder, lifting a hand, grazing her fingertips lightly down his chest as she whispers to him, “If I told you that you have a nice body, will you hold it against me?”
“Where did you learn that line,” Maxwell chuckles, the worry and tension leaving him as he gazes down at her. He simply cannot ignore the fact that her body fit so perfectly against his.
“Where I learned the rest of them,” Elizabeth says nonchalantly.
“And where would that be?” Maxwell asks playfully, keeping the mood light.
“From the men,” Elizabeth says shrugging her shoulders.
“What men?” Maxwell asks, the playfulness all but gone from his voice.
“The ones in town,” Elizabeth says, offhandedly as she fiddles with the gold chain around Maxwell’s neck. “You know them … most of them are from your father’s warehouse.”
She can feel Maxwell’s body tensing under her, his voice tight and somewhat … enraged, “those men?”
“Yes. Why?” Elizabeth asks lifting her head to look at him. “Are you jealous?” She wiggles her eyebrows at him.
“Not at all,” Maxwell says with a strained smile on his face. “I am simply … curious,” he shrugs.
“Oh, well in that case,” Elizabeth leans back onto Maxwell’s shoulder with a smile on her lips.
“Yes, curious,” he lets out a long sigh, “so … what do you say to them when these … men … say these things to you?” Maxwell tries to ask casually, but fails miserably.
Elizabeth chuckles at him, and then lifts her head so that she can look into his eyes. “I tell them the truth.”
“And what is that?” Maxwell asks with a sigh, suddenly uncertain if he wants to know.
She leans in closer to him and whispers, “that I am already taken.”
Maxwell smiles, relaxing as he leans back on his arm, Elizabeth still sitting on his lap. “Anyone I know?” he asks with a smirk. He glances down at the bracelet around her wrist and smiles even wider. She is his … finally.
“Of course,” Elizabeth says, tilting her head teasingly. “Everyone knows him.”
Maxwell sits back up and leans closer to her. “No need for flattery, love. If you want some Maxwell loving,” he flexes his arms, “all you have to do is ask,” he winks, smirking at her.
Elizabeth laughs and slaps his arm playfully.
He stares at her with a smile on his face. Then sighs and looks at her intently. “You really had me frightened there,” Maxwell says with so many emotions running through his eyes.
Elizabeth mocks a gasped and widens her eyes. “The great Maxwell Evans … frightened?”
“Yes,” Maxwell says sincerely, staring into her eyes so that she will see that he means every word he is saying.
“Now why would you be frightened?” Elizabeth asks with a smile. She wants to keep the mood light, but with the way Maxwell is staring at her, she doubts that this is anything but a frivolous conversation.
“I was so worried about you,” Maxwell says, licking his suddenly very parched lips.
“You need not worry for me,” Elizabeth says with a shy smile on her lips, shaking her head slightly.
“I cannot help it,” he says, raising his hand and tucking a few loose strands behind her ear, his hand remaining there, his thumb grazing her cheek, his palm near her chin, his fingers softly caressing her neck. Elizabeth wonders if he can feel how fast her heart is beating.
“Elizabeth …” Maxwell says, waiting until she will lift her head and look into his eyes before he continues. “Elizabeth … I love you.”
She stares at him. This is not fair. He is not being fair. How can he keep doing this to her? There are so many emotions in his eyes. How can she tell him? How can she tell him now? Elizabeth had tried to earlier, but he began changing the subject. And now …
The silence is deafening as Maxwell stares at her. Elizabeth lowers her gaze and closes her eyes. Maxwell begins to panic. Not again, he thinks to himself, not again.
He sees Elizabeth bite her bottom lip softly, as if she is unsure of something. Then he sees her sigh, her shoulders slumping. Her eyes open, and all that he can read from her is … guilt.
She licks her lips, sniffles, and looks away from him, as she speaks. “Maxwell …” she shakes her head slowly from side to side, “you cannot.”
“I apologize,” Elizabeth whispers to him as she tries to slip out of his arms, but he keeps his grip firm. The look on his face tells Elizabeth he does not quite register what she says.
“I-I am sorry, but …” Maxwell stumbles out, shaking his head back and forth, “… I … I simply … I do not understand.”
“Maxwell … y-you cannot love me …” she says, lowering her head, she feels so ashamed of the way she has been acting around him tonight. How can she have enticed and toyed with him and expected him to think it as simply a casual and friendly conversation? She should have known better. She should have known that Maxwell is not that type of person to simply take things lightly.
He places a finger under her chin and gently forces her head up to look at him. “But Elizabeth … I do … I love you,” he says every word slowly and carefully, letting everything sink in.
“Maxwell …” she whispers to him, tears slipping down her face. Maxwell lightly brushes them away from her cheek. His touch is so soft … gentle … loving …
Everything about him is loving. Why had she not see it sooner?
“I cannot be with you, Maxwell.” More tears stream down her face as she shakes her head away from his touch. “I cannot …”
“Why not?” Maxwell asks coarsely. If she does not love him, he still needs an answer. He needs to know why. He needs to know what he has done wrong. Perhaps he can change, be better, fix things. She is not going to simply walk away from him this time. He will make certain of it.
Elizabeth bites her bottom lip, trying to stop it from quivering. She closes her eyes tight, trying to stop the tears from coming. She holds her body rigid, trying to stop it from trembling. All attempts are unsuccessful. She cannot answer Maxwell. She cannot look at him, let alone speak to him. Elizabeth simply shakes her head fiercely, from side to side.
“You are not being fair, Elizabeth,” he grinds out through clenched teeth, fuming.
“I am not being fair?” Elizabeth berates him as she jumps up from his lap and begins pacing before him. “I am not being fair?! You are the one who is not being FAIR!” she points at him.
“What?” Maxwell asks, standing to defend himself. “YOU are the one who keeps pushing ME away and I am the one not being FAIR?”
“YES!” Elizabeth starts her pacing again. “I had my whole life planned out. Everything was set. Everything was planned. Everything was perfect. And then YOU come along,” she says pointedly at him. “YOU come into MY life and contort EVERYTHING. You made everything so … COMPLICATED!”
“Well I apologize for complicating your life so, but love is complicated, so I guess I apologize for loving you,” Maxwell spits out sarcastically.
“As you should be,” she spits back.
Both of them turn away from each other, taking deep breaths, trying to calm down. Neither one of them enjoy yelling at the other … or being angry with one another.
After a few minutes, Maxwell lets out a heart wrenching, dejected sigh. He speaks to her civilly, his words soft and gentle. He can never stay angry with her long. He loves her far too much …
“So …” Maxwell begins. They both stay facing the wall of the cave, seemingly not looking at each other, though both are secretly glancing at one another through the corners of their eyes.
“Why can’t you love me?” He winces at his own words.
Elizabeth notices it and her face softens. “I did not say that,” her voice sounds so frail and hurt that it makes Maxwell’s heart sink. He hates raising his voice at her.
“Well then … why can’t you be with me?” he asks, recalling her words.
“Because …” Elizabeth speaks with her voice as faint as his. “I have already promised myself to another.”
Maxwell closes his eyes tight, bracing himself as his heart tears to pieces. She cannot love him because she loves someone else. Perfect, simply perfect, Maxwell thinks, nodding his head sorrowfully. “Who?” his voice comes out strained and hurt.
Elizabeth lowers her head even more, knowing she is the one who made it that way. “The gods,” she says softly.
Maxwell turns and looks at her. Elizabeth turns her head sideways to possibly gage what he is feeling. So that he can tell her to her face how much he hates her. That he despises her now. Hell, that he never liked her at all and that he only pities her. She deserves it all. But to her surprise, he is laughing, a smile on his face.
Elizabeth looks at him questioningly and notices that it is not a happy laughter. It is laughter of sorrow and pain. And it breaks her heart.
Maxwell’s face is adorned with a contorted smile and he sniffles, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath before he speaks. “It is funny. It is simply hilarious,” he scoffs. “It figures I would lose to them,” Maxwell speaks, his lip quivering.
“What do you mean?” Elizabeth asks cautiously.
Maxwell laughs and shakes his head. “Nothing … it is simply … the gods have it in for me,” Maxwell says, raising an eyebrow and chuckling some more. “I think it is all those times I fell asleep during prayers when I was young.”
Elizabeth laughs, her lips curving up in a big smile.
Maxwell loves her smile, her laughter. It makes her look so heavenly. Maxwell scoffs. Heavenly. Yes, that is what she is … heavenly.
He takes two large steps and stop right in front of her. “Elizabeth …” he brings his hand up and lifts her chin until she is looking at him. “Are you certain that is the kind of life you want?”
Elizabeth bites her lip and looks away from him. “I have already promised myself …”
“But people can change their minds,” Maxwell interrupts.
“I do not know, Maxwell,” she says with her bottom lip quivering. “What should I do?”
He would have told her that he wanted her to be with him, wanted her to forget about having ever promised herself to anyone but him. But he cannot. He loves her far too much. What is the saying? If you love something, set it free. If it come back, keep it forever. But if it does not, it is not meant to be. Well, this is exactly the case.
“What do you want, Elizabeth?” he asks her. “Listen to your heart, not your head,” Maxwell says, leaning his forehead against hers. “What do you want?”
“Maxwell … I …” she wants to tell him but is interrupted by Maxwell’s lips coming down on hers as he kisses her thoroughly, his tongue caressing hers.
Maxwell does not know where he is able to find the courage to kiss her like this. But he is simply thankful she is kissing him back. He has to show her exactly what she will be missing out on … or simply to see exactly what he is going to be missing out on. Either way, he is glad he goes for it.
Maxwell’s hand on Elizabeth’s waist travels upward before he feels her place her hands on his chest and push him away.
Maxwell backs off dejectedly as he tries to catch his breath.
“Maxwell … I …” she wants to tell him. She wanted to tell him everything and put her heart out on the line, like he has for her … multiple times.
“Well, who am I to compete with the gods? You cannot blame me for trying though,” Maxwell interrupts her, throwing his hands up in the air. He still was not able to convince her. Even after that incredibly, mind-blowing kiss. What else does he have left to offer her? He has given her everything. Maxwell glances down at her wrist. Even expensive jewelry.
“What? Competing with gods?” she asks, shaking her head. “Maxwell, I …”
“How much longer do I have?” he asks, letting out another heart wrenching sigh.
“What?” Elizabeth asks, still confused, shaking her head to show that she does not understand what he is talking about.
“With you,” he clarifies. “How much longer do I have with you?”
Elizabeth still looks at him, not comprehending.
Great. Simply great. She still is not with him. He should have known better then to refer to it in that way. Maxwell sighs. “How much longer until you commit yourself?”
“Well, I had planned for not long from now, but …”
He interrupts her again, “So how much more time do I have left? Months, weeks, days?” Maxwell cringes thinking about it. Anything short of eternity simply is not enough time with her for him.
“Maxwell, I had planned on maybe two or three months from now, but …”
“Good,” Maxwell interrupts her yet again. “Then can we simply … be together … until then?” he asks, pleading with his eyes, begging her to simply give him this, whatever little time there is. “Please Elizabeth?”
She gives into his puppy-dog eyes. “Maxwell, I will love to, but …”
“No buts, Elizabeth,” he says pulling her into his arms. “You are mine … and I am not letting you go …”
Elizabeth snuggles up in Maxwell’s embrace. She feels safe and perfect there and she never wants to leave.
Her emotions overwhelm her. The way she feels for him … she needs him … needs him as though he were the air she breathes. If what she feels for him is not love, she does not think she will ever know what love is.
Heaven forgive her for her weakness. But she loves Maxwell.
“You are mine, Elizabeth,” he whispers to her, wrapping his arms more tightly around her, “… finally … you are mine …” Maxwell sighs, “at least, for two months you are …”
Elizabeth groans and pushes Maxwell away. She is getting tired of this. “Maxwell, I need you to simply … shut your mouth and listen to me,” she says in a tone that dares Maxwell to not comply with her commands. But he knows better than to over infuriate an already teed-off Elizabeth.
“If you would simply stop interrupting me, I would be able to tell you,” she stops and lets out a deep sigh before calming herself in order to talk to him. When Maxwell nods for her to go on, she continues, “Maxwell, I …”
“I found you!” comes a booming voice from the entrance of the cave.
“I cannot believe I have found you!”
Both Maxwell and Elizabeth turn their heads to find a very cheery Alexander, coming right for them. Alexander pulls them both into a tight embrace.
“You do not know how worried we have been!” Alexander says, hugging them even tighter.
“Alexander …”
“Yes?” Alexander releases them from his tight grip. He gulps when he sees Elizabeth’s face. She looks … well, she looks about ready to kill, and the target seems to be him. He gulps again.
“Alexander,” Elizabeth says again, her voice sweet. “Would you kindly give us one more moment alone?” She smiles a sweet smile at him, but her eyes are glaring.
Alexander turns to leave immediately. An enraged Elizabeth is a scary one.
After Alexander leaves, Maxwell turns to Elizabeth with a smirk. “Feisty, are we not?” he teases, wiggling his eyebrows at her.
Elizabeth rolls her eyes playfully. “I am simply tired of being interrupted. Now … Maxwell …” she makes certain she has his attention, “I know, I have been running away from you a lot, every time you tell me how you feel,” she is not certain how to tell him, but she knows she wants him to understand … everything.
“Yes?” Maxwell nudges for her to continue.
“Well,” she takes a deep breath. “It is not that I do not feel the same way … it is simply …”
“Elizabeth?” Maxwell asks, his eyes very hopeful.
“… It is simply … that I am frightened … I am not supposed to have these feelings for you … but I do, and I simply cannot ignore them any longer. They will not go away because what I feel is too strong,” Elizabeth says, looking away from him, fidgeting with her gown, which is now beyond dirty, tattered, and torn.
Maxwell reaches down and grabs her hand in his and brings it up to his lips, softly kissing her palm before curling her hand back in his own.
Elizabeth feels so light-headed from that simple show of affection. “Maxwell …” she whispers his name.
Maxwell grins at her, lifting his hand to tuck a few strands of hair behind her ear before leaning close to her. “Exactly what do you feel for me?” Maxwell whispers to her.
Elizabeth glances up at him. He knows she loves him. He simply wants to hear it from her lips, to be certain. “Maxwell …” she smiles shyly at him. “I love you.”
He smiles at her before pulling her slowly into his arms. “I love you too, Elizabeth.”
“I have made up my mind, Maxwell,” she whispers to him. “I want to be with you. I cannot devote myself to the gods when my heart belongs to you.”
Maxwell’s smile grows at her words before he lifts her up and spins her around. Both laughing happily before Maxwell puts her back down, tucking her hair behind her ear. “You are truly mine then? Not simply for two months?”
Elizabeth nods her head slowly. “I am yours, until I bore you.”
“Never, Elizabeth,” he says, shaking his head. “Never.”
Elizabeth smiles and tiptoes up to kiss him. Maxwell leans down, tilting his head to capture Elizabeth’s lips with his own. When they finally break away, he whispers to her with a smile on his lips. “Mine. All mine.”
Elizabeth rolls her eyes, smiling at him. “I should say the same.”
Maxwell runs his fingers through her hair. “I am yours.”
“Forever?” Elizabeth asks, narrowing her eyes at him.
He nods his head. “Forever and always.”
“I think Alexander is waiting …” Elizabeth says, nodding her head towards the cave entrance.
“One more moment?” Maxwell asks, pouting his lips at her.
“Maxwell,” she says as she takes his hand and leads him out of the cave. “We do not need another moment. We have the rest of our lives together.”
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Chapter Thirty Five:
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Maxwell is frantic. Elizabeth is cold. What is he to do?
“It is alright …” Maxwell whispers to her, more so to reassure himself rather than to reassure her. “It is going to be alright.”
Maxwell lifts Elizabeth’s body into his arms, shifting closer to the fire. Elizabeth sits in his lap as he pulls her body closer in contact with his.
Elizabeth leans her head onto his shoulder and pulls her legs up closer to her body, so that she is clinging to Maxwell, not simply because she desires to, it is because Maxwell is so warm.
Her shoulders curl in toward his and he can feel how cold she is. He grabs his shirt from off the ground and drapes it around her shoulders. He feels her body shiver and shake, her lips quivering against his shoulder.
“Good god … Elizabeth …” His hands around her hold her tighter. His arms rub fiercely against her skin as he tries his best to keep her warm.
Elizabeth’s body suddenly heats up, her breathing calming to normal. Maxwell is more confused than ever. He loosens his grip around her, but she keeps her hold onto his body, her head never leaving his shoulder.
They sit there for a while, Elizabeth simply enjoying being in his arms. Maxwell starts to wonder if she has fallen asleep. But when he tilts his head to look at her, he finds her eyes gazing right at him.
She smiles at him, but keeps her head on his shoulder, lifting a hand, grazing her fingertips lightly down his chest as she whispers to him, “If I told you that you have a nice body, will you hold it against me?”
“Where did you learn that line,” Maxwell chuckles, the worry and tension leaving him as he gazes down at her. He simply cannot ignore the fact that her body fit so perfectly against his.
“Where I learned the rest of them,” Elizabeth says nonchalantly.
“And where would that be?” Maxwell asks playfully, keeping the mood light.
“From the men,” Elizabeth says shrugging her shoulders.
“What men?” Maxwell asks, the playfulness all but gone from his voice.
“The ones in town,” Elizabeth says, offhandedly as she fiddles with the gold chain around Maxwell’s neck. “You know them … most of them are from your father’s warehouse.”
She can feel Maxwell’s body tensing under her, his voice tight and somewhat … enraged, “those men?”
“Yes. Why?” Elizabeth asks lifting her head to look at him. “Are you jealous?” She wiggles her eyebrows at him.
“Not at all,” Maxwell says with a strained smile on his face. “I am simply … curious,” he shrugs.
“Oh, well in that case,” Elizabeth leans back onto Maxwell’s shoulder with a smile on her lips.
“Yes, curious,” he lets out a long sigh, “so … what do you say to them when these … men … say these things to you?” Maxwell tries to ask casually, but fails miserably.
Elizabeth chuckles at him, and then lifts her head so that she can look into his eyes. “I tell them the truth.”
“And what is that?” Maxwell asks with a sigh, suddenly uncertain if he wants to know.
She leans in closer to him and whispers, “that I am already taken.”
Maxwell smiles, relaxing as he leans back on his arm, Elizabeth still sitting on his lap. “Anyone I know?” he asks with a smirk. He glances down at the bracelet around her wrist and smiles even wider. She is his … finally.
“Of course,” Elizabeth says, tilting her head teasingly. “Everyone knows him.”
Maxwell sits back up and leans closer to her. “No need for flattery, love. If you want some Maxwell loving,” he flexes his arms, “all you have to do is ask,” he winks, smirking at her.
Elizabeth laughs and slaps his arm playfully.
He stares at her with a smile on his face. Then sighs and looks at her intently. “You really had me frightened there,” Maxwell says with so many emotions running through his eyes.
Elizabeth mocks a gasped and widens her eyes. “The great Maxwell Evans … frightened?”
“Yes,” Maxwell says sincerely, staring into her eyes so that she will see that he means every word he is saying.
“Now why would you be frightened?” Elizabeth asks with a smile. She wants to keep the mood light, but with the way Maxwell is staring at her, she doubts that this is anything but a frivolous conversation.
“I was so worried about you,” Maxwell says, licking his suddenly very parched lips.
“You need not worry for me,” Elizabeth says with a shy smile on her lips, shaking her head slightly.
“I cannot help it,” he says, raising his hand and tucking a few loose strands behind her ear, his hand remaining there, his thumb grazing her cheek, his palm near her chin, his fingers softly caressing her neck. Elizabeth wonders if he can feel how fast her heart is beating.
“Elizabeth …” Maxwell says, waiting until she will lift her head and look into his eyes before he continues. “Elizabeth … I love you.”
She stares at him. This is not fair. He is not being fair. How can he keep doing this to her? There are so many emotions in his eyes. How can she tell him? How can she tell him now? Elizabeth had tried to earlier, but he began changing the subject. And now …
The silence is deafening as Maxwell stares at her. Elizabeth lowers her gaze and closes her eyes. Maxwell begins to panic. Not again, he thinks to himself, not again.
He sees Elizabeth bite her bottom lip softly, as if she is unsure of something. Then he sees her sigh, her shoulders slumping. Her eyes open, and all that he can read from her is … guilt.
She licks her lips, sniffles, and looks away from him, as she speaks. “Maxwell …” she shakes her head slowly from side to side, “you cannot.”
“I apologize,” Elizabeth whispers to him as she tries to slip out of his arms, but he keeps his grip firm. The look on his face tells Elizabeth he does not quite register what she says.
“I-I am sorry, but …” Maxwell stumbles out, shaking his head back and forth, “… I … I simply … I do not understand.”
“Maxwell … y-you cannot love me …” she says, lowering her head, she feels so ashamed of the way she has been acting around him tonight. How can she have enticed and toyed with him and expected him to think it as simply a casual and friendly conversation? She should have known better. She should have known that Maxwell is not that type of person to simply take things lightly.
He places a finger under her chin and gently forces her head up to look at him. “But Elizabeth … I do … I love you,” he says every word slowly and carefully, letting everything sink in.
“Maxwell …” she whispers to him, tears slipping down her face. Maxwell lightly brushes them away from her cheek. His touch is so soft … gentle … loving …
Everything about him is loving. Why had she not see it sooner?
“I cannot be with you, Maxwell.” More tears stream down her face as she shakes her head away from his touch. “I cannot …”
“Why not?” Maxwell asks coarsely. If she does not love him, he still needs an answer. He needs to know why. He needs to know what he has done wrong. Perhaps he can change, be better, fix things. She is not going to simply walk away from him this time. He will make certain of it.
Elizabeth bites her bottom lip, trying to stop it from quivering. She closes her eyes tight, trying to stop the tears from coming. She holds her body rigid, trying to stop it from trembling. All attempts are unsuccessful. She cannot answer Maxwell. She cannot look at him, let alone speak to him. Elizabeth simply shakes her head fiercely, from side to side.
“You are not being fair, Elizabeth,” he grinds out through clenched teeth, fuming.
“I am not being fair?” Elizabeth berates him as she jumps up from his lap and begins pacing before him. “I am not being fair?! You are the one who is not being FAIR!” she points at him.
“What?” Maxwell asks, standing to defend himself. “YOU are the one who keeps pushing ME away and I am the one not being FAIR?”
“YES!” Elizabeth starts her pacing again. “I had my whole life planned out. Everything was set. Everything was planned. Everything was perfect. And then YOU come along,” she says pointedly at him. “YOU come into MY life and contort EVERYTHING. You made everything so … COMPLICATED!”
“Well I apologize for complicating your life so, but love is complicated, so I guess I apologize for loving you,” Maxwell spits out sarcastically.
“As you should be,” she spits back.
Both of them turn away from each other, taking deep breaths, trying to calm down. Neither one of them enjoy yelling at the other … or being angry with one another.
After a few minutes, Maxwell lets out a heart wrenching, dejected sigh. He speaks to her civilly, his words soft and gentle. He can never stay angry with her long. He loves her far too much …
“So …” Maxwell begins. They both stay facing the wall of the cave, seemingly not looking at each other, though both are secretly glancing at one another through the corners of their eyes.
“Why can’t you love me?” He winces at his own words.
Elizabeth notices it and her face softens. “I did not say that,” her voice sounds so frail and hurt that it makes Maxwell’s heart sink. He hates raising his voice at her.
“Well then … why can’t you be with me?” he asks, recalling her words.
“Because …” Elizabeth speaks with her voice as faint as his. “I have already promised myself to another.”
Maxwell closes his eyes tight, bracing himself as his heart tears to pieces. She cannot love him because she loves someone else. Perfect, simply perfect, Maxwell thinks, nodding his head sorrowfully. “Who?” his voice comes out strained and hurt.
Elizabeth lowers her head even more, knowing she is the one who made it that way. “The gods,” she says softly.
Maxwell turns and looks at her. Elizabeth turns her head sideways to possibly gage what he is feeling. So that he can tell her to her face how much he hates her. That he despises her now. Hell, that he never liked her at all and that he only pities her. She deserves it all. But to her surprise, he is laughing, a smile on his face.
Elizabeth looks at him questioningly and notices that it is not a happy laughter. It is laughter of sorrow and pain. And it breaks her heart.
Maxwell’s face is adorned with a contorted smile and he sniffles, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath before he speaks. “It is funny. It is simply hilarious,” he scoffs. “It figures I would lose to them,” Maxwell speaks, his lip quivering.
“What do you mean?” Elizabeth asks cautiously.
Maxwell laughs and shakes his head. “Nothing … it is simply … the gods have it in for me,” Maxwell says, raising an eyebrow and chuckling some more. “I think it is all those times I fell asleep during prayers when I was young.”
Elizabeth laughs, her lips curving up in a big smile.
Maxwell loves her smile, her laughter. It makes her look so heavenly. Maxwell scoffs. Heavenly. Yes, that is what she is … heavenly.
He takes two large steps and stop right in front of her. “Elizabeth …” he brings his hand up and lifts her chin until she is looking at him. “Are you certain that is the kind of life you want?”
Elizabeth bites her lip and looks away from him. “I have already promised myself …”
“But people can change their minds,” Maxwell interrupts.
“I do not know, Maxwell,” she says with her bottom lip quivering. “What should I do?”
He would have told her that he wanted her to be with him, wanted her to forget about having ever promised herself to anyone but him. But he cannot. He loves her far too much. What is the saying? If you love something, set it free. If it come back, keep it forever. But if it does not, it is not meant to be. Well, this is exactly the case.
“What do you want, Elizabeth?” he asks her. “Listen to your heart, not your head,” Maxwell says, leaning his forehead against hers. “What do you want?”
“Maxwell … I …” she wants to tell him but is interrupted by Maxwell’s lips coming down on hers as he kisses her thoroughly, his tongue caressing hers.
Maxwell does not know where he is able to find the courage to kiss her like this. But he is simply thankful she is kissing him back. He has to show her exactly what she will be missing out on … or simply to see exactly what he is going to be missing out on. Either way, he is glad he goes for it.
Maxwell’s hand on Elizabeth’s waist travels upward before he feels her place her hands on his chest and push him away.
Maxwell backs off dejectedly as he tries to catch his breath.
“Maxwell … I …” she wants to tell him. She wanted to tell him everything and put her heart out on the line, like he has for her … multiple times.
“Well, who am I to compete with the gods? You cannot blame me for trying though,” Maxwell interrupts her, throwing his hands up in the air. He still was not able to convince her. Even after that incredibly, mind-blowing kiss. What else does he have left to offer her? He has given her everything. Maxwell glances down at her wrist. Even expensive jewelry.
“What? Competing with gods?” she asks, shaking her head. “Maxwell, I …”
“How much longer do I have?” he asks, letting out another heart wrenching sigh.
“What?” Elizabeth asks, still confused, shaking her head to show that she does not understand what he is talking about.
“With you,” he clarifies. “How much longer do I have with you?”
Elizabeth still looks at him, not comprehending.
Great. Simply great. She still is not with him. He should have known better then to refer to it in that way. Maxwell sighs. “How much longer until you commit yourself?”
“Well, I had planned for not long from now, but …”
He interrupts her again, “So how much more time do I have left? Months, weeks, days?” Maxwell cringes thinking about it. Anything short of eternity simply is not enough time with her for him.
“Maxwell, I had planned on maybe two or three months from now, but …”
“Good,” Maxwell interrupts her yet again. “Then can we simply … be together … until then?” he asks, pleading with his eyes, begging her to simply give him this, whatever little time there is. “Please Elizabeth?”
She gives into his puppy-dog eyes. “Maxwell, I will love to, but …”
“No buts, Elizabeth,” he says pulling her into his arms. “You are mine … and I am not letting you go …”
Elizabeth snuggles up in Maxwell’s embrace. She feels safe and perfect there and she never wants to leave.
Her emotions overwhelm her. The way she feels for him … she needs him … needs him as though he were the air she breathes. If what she feels for him is not love, she does not think she will ever know what love is.
Heaven forgive her for her weakness. But she loves Maxwell.
“You are mine, Elizabeth,” he whispers to her, wrapping his arms more tightly around her, “… finally … you are mine …” Maxwell sighs, “at least, for two months you are …”
Elizabeth groans and pushes Maxwell away. She is getting tired of this. “Maxwell, I need you to simply … shut your mouth and listen to me,” she says in a tone that dares Maxwell to not comply with her commands. But he knows better than to over infuriate an already teed-off Elizabeth.
“If you would simply stop interrupting me, I would be able to tell you,” she stops and lets out a deep sigh before calming herself in order to talk to him. When Maxwell nods for her to go on, she continues, “Maxwell, I …”
“I found you!” comes a booming voice from the entrance of the cave.
“I cannot believe I have found you!”
Both Maxwell and Elizabeth turn their heads to find a very cheery Alexander, coming right for them. Alexander pulls them both into a tight embrace.
“You do not know how worried we have been!” Alexander says, hugging them even tighter.
“Alexander …”
“Yes?” Alexander releases them from his tight grip. He gulps when he sees Elizabeth’s face. She looks … well, she looks about ready to kill, and the target seems to be him. He gulps again.
“Alexander,” Elizabeth says again, her voice sweet. “Would you kindly give us one more moment alone?” She smiles a sweet smile at him, but her eyes are glaring.
Alexander turns to leave immediately. An enraged Elizabeth is a scary one.
After Alexander leaves, Maxwell turns to Elizabeth with a smirk. “Feisty, are we not?” he teases, wiggling his eyebrows at her.
Elizabeth rolls her eyes playfully. “I am simply tired of being interrupted. Now … Maxwell …” she makes certain she has his attention, “I know, I have been running away from you a lot, every time you tell me how you feel,” she is not certain how to tell him, but she knows she wants him to understand … everything.
“Yes?” Maxwell nudges for her to continue.
“Well,” she takes a deep breath. “It is not that I do not feel the same way … it is simply …”
“Elizabeth?” Maxwell asks, his eyes very hopeful.
“… It is simply … that I am frightened … I am not supposed to have these feelings for you … but I do, and I simply cannot ignore them any longer. They will not go away because what I feel is too strong,” Elizabeth says, looking away from him, fidgeting with her gown, which is now beyond dirty, tattered, and torn.
Maxwell reaches down and grabs her hand in his and brings it up to his lips, softly kissing her palm before curling her hand back in his own.
Elizabeth feels so light-headed from that simple show of affection. “Maxwell …” she whispers his name.
Maxwell grins at her, lifting his hand to tuck a few strands of hair behind her ear before leaning close to her. “Exactly what do you feel for me?” Maxwell whispers to her.
Elizabeth glances up at him. He knows she loves him. He simply wants to hear it from her lips, to be certain. “Maxwell …” she smiles shyly at him. “I love you.”
He smiles at her before pulling her slowly into his arms. “I love you too, Elizabeth.”
“I have made up my mind, Maxwell,” she whispers to him. “I want to be with you. I cannot devote myself to the gods when my heart belongs to you.”
Maxwell’s smile grows at her words before he lifts her up and spins her around. Both laughing happily before Maxwell puts her back down, tucking her hair behind her ear. “You are truly mine then? Not simply for two months?”
Elizabeth nods her head slowly. “I am yours, until I bore you.”
“Never, Elizabeth,” he says, shaking his head. “Never.”
Elizabeth smiles and tiptoes up to kiss him. Maxwell leans down, tilting his head to capture Elizabeth’s lips with his own. When they finally break away, he whispers to her with a smile on his lips. “Mine. All mine.”
Elizabeth rolls her eyes, smiling at him. “I should say the same.”
Maxwell runs his fingers through her hair. “I am yours.”
“Forever?” Elizabeth asks, narrowing her eyes at him.
He nods his head. “Forever and always.”
“I think Alexander is waiting …” Elizabeth says, nodding her head towards the cave entrance.
“One more moment?” Maxwell asks, pouting his lips at her.
“Maxwell,” she says as she takes his hand and leads him out of the cave. “We do not need another moment. We have the rest of our lives together.”
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Chapter Thirty Six:
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“Now that everyone is here and accounted for, we have a great deal to discuss,” James says, addressing everyone in the room.
They are all seated in the Valenti living area with guards at every entrance, apparently for the King and Queen’s protection. The King and Queen are seated on one side of the room. James is standing at the center, facing everyone. Philip is seated on a love seat with Diane leaning on the armrest. Michael, Maria, Alexander, and Isabella are squeezed together on the settee.
And Maxwell is seated on an extra chair that a servant managed to bring out. Elizabeth in his arms. A servant offered to bring out a chair for Elizabeth, but Maxwell declined, telling them that they were just fine as they are. Maxwell and Elizabeth have been very comfortable around each other, one not leaving the other’s side since they left the cave. No one will comment upon it.
“Well then,” James says, clasping his hands together. “Where to begin? How are you feeling, Elizabeth?”
Elizabeth smiles politely at him. “Much better.”
“Are you certain we do not need to call upon a doctor? Just in case,” Diane asks, concerned.
Elizabeth shakes her head. “I am fine. More than fine. Really,” she says, trying to reassure everyone.
Maxwell smiles at her and rubs her back soothingly.
“She should be fine. So long as Maxwell is with her,” the King speaks up.
“What do you mean, your Highness?” Elizabeth turns, nodding slightly and asks, giving the King a questioning look.
“It is very complicated,” he begins. “You see, because you are of royal blood, you have these … gifts … magic, if you will.”
“What?” Elizabeth asks, thoroughly confused. “Gifts? Magic? These strange incidents are because I am a Princess?”
“Princess?” Maxwell looks at them in shock. “Elizabeth is …”
“She is,” Jeffrey confirms Maxwell’s thoughts. “Elizabeth is my daughter.”
Everyone stares at him in shock. They all suddenly stand, all but Elizabeth. Maxwell would have too if it were not for Elizabeth, seated on his lap.
“I think we should leave,” Maria says as she heads out the room, everyone else following. Elizabeth has matters to discuss with her family without everyone else intruding.
“Elizabeth,” Maxwell whispers to her, leaning forward. “I do not think I should be here.”
“No, Maxwell. Stay with me. Please?” she pleads with him, whispering loud enough for only him to hear. “I am frightened.”
Maxwell nods his head with a slight smile and sits back down, pulling her to him.
“Elizabeth …” Nancy tries to explain.
“If I am your daughter, then why was I raised by Kyle? Why am I not with you? Did you not want me?” the questions pour out of Elizabeth, questions that she has been seeking answers to for her entire life and only now been able to speak.
“Do not ever think that, Elizabeth,” Jeffrey says, standing before her her. “You are my daughter and I would never not want you.”
“Then why am I not with you? Why did you leave me to be raised by Kyle?” Elizabeth asks, tears streaming down her face, all her insecurities coming forth. “Am I that terrible of a child for her parents to have abandoned her?”
“No, darling. You are not,” Jeffrey says, shaking his head, wiping away her tears. “You were not abandoned. And you are not terrible. You are the most beautiful girl I have ever seen. And from what they have told me, you are the sweetest, most compassionate, and gentlest person that ever existed.”
“Why did you leave me with Kyle?” Elizabeth asks, her voice barely above a whisper.
“I did not want to. Believe me. I did not want to,” Jeffrey says, shaking his head slowly. “I had no idea you existed. Because if I had known, I would have climbed the highest mountains, swam the widest rivers to get to you. You are my daughter, my child.”
Tears flow down Elizabeth’s cheeks. There are so many questions swirling through her mind. So many answers she has been searching for. But right now, she forgives him for everything. She finally finds her family. “Father,” she whispers to him before jumping into his arms.
“Lizzie,” he whispers to her, kissing the top of her head. “You will come stay with me? Come live with me in the palace? Because now that I have you, I will never let you go again. I apologize, Maxwell,” Jeffrey says, looking over at the young man. “But I do not know if I will ever be able to give her away to you.”
Elizabeth nudges her father lightly. “What makes you think I want to marry Maxwell?” She turns to look at Maxwell, narrowing her eyes playfully.
“But …” Maxwell protests.
“You are right,” Jeffrey mocks gasping. “After all, you are a princess. And princesses do not marry just anyone.”
“But …”
They both laugh. Elizabeth is the first to control her giggles. She looks toward Nancy. “Does that make you my mother?”
Nancy slowly nods her head. “Yes, that does. You are my daughter.”
Elizabeth nods her head. But for some reason, she does not feel as comfortable around Nancy as she does with Jeffrey. Perhaps it is because he approached her first. He is willing and wanting to make her a part of his life before she had even uttered a word to him.
Or maybe it is all that she has learned of her mother from Claudia. Or, at least, how Amy simply left Claudia, with no one to care for her. “Amy suits you better.”
Nancy gasps. “How … how did you know.”
“I have met with my grandmother,” Elizabeth says, shrugging her shoulders.
“Oh,” Nancy says, nodding her head.
The room is suddenly silent. There seems to be tension in the air. Elizabeth stands. “Perhaps we should finish the rest of the business at hand.”
“Yes,” Jeffrey agrees, nodding his head. “The sooner we get this all over with, the sooner I can take you home. I have a bedroom prepared for you,” Jeffrey tells Elizabeth with a smile. Elizabeth smiles back at him before heading off to call everyone else back into the living area.
--------------
“Governor, what else do we have to discuss?” Philip asks, yawning. “It is nearly dawn and none of us have slept a wink. I think I speak for all of us when I say that we are all very tired.”
“We only have one more thing left to deal with,” Valenti says with a sigh. “Sean’s death … or rather … Sean’s murder. I have already spoken with my brother-in-law. He wishes to keep updated with any finds, even the smallest clue. He wants vengeance.”
“That Whittaker DeLuca,” Philip says, shaking his head. “Violence is not the key to anything. Do you understand that, boys?” Philip asks, looking at each of his sons pointedly.
“Brains before brawn,” Alexander says with a salute. “Aye aye, pop.”
Michael scoffs. “That is good since Alexander has too much brains and not any brawn.”
“Watch is,” Alexander protests, throwing a cushion at Michael.
“I can help with the Sean murder,” Maxwell speaks in a hushed voice, not only because the topic is not one he likes to discuss, but also because Elizabeth has fallen asleep with her head leaning on his shoulder. He does not want to wake her. She has had one hell of a night and needs her rest. But they have matters to deal with first. “I witnessed it.”
Everyone gasps and turns to Maxwell.
“We will have to question you,” Valenti tells Maxwell.
Maxwell looks worried. “Alright, Governor.”
“Do not worry, Maxwell. It is just procedure,” the Governor reassures him. “I will need to question Elizabeth, as well.”
Maxwell nods his head with a sigh. He does not want Elizabeth to have to deal with any of this. He wants to let her live in a perfect bubble where she will not come into contact with anything bad or evil. She already has a great deal to worry over. She has to get acquainted with her parents, move to the palace, deal with being royalty and the etiquette of being a princess, not to mention having to deal with him, constantly wanting to be around her and touching her, Maxwell adds with a smirk.
He glances down at his angel lying peacefully in his arms. He brushes the hair off of her face, rubbing her neck soothingly. “Governor, if you do not mind, can we discuss this at a later date? Elizabeth really should rest.”
“We must deal with this Sean issue as soon as possible,” Valenti says with a sigh. “But, since Elizabeth is not well, I suppose we will have to postpone until tomorrow.”
Maxwell smiles appreciatively towards the Governor before standing, lifting Elizabeth into his arms on his way as he heads toward the door.
“Maxwell,” Maria calls out to him with a smile. “Where are you taking Elizabeth?”
“Yes, where are you taking her?” the King speak up. “She is coming home with me.”
“With all due respect your Majesty, but it does take quite a while to get to the palace from here and Elizabeth is rather tired,” Maria says, pointing towards Elizabeth. “And with her belongings already here and her bedroom prepared, I suggest she remain here for the night.”
“But …” the King sighs in submission. “You are right. She is tired. I will send for her tomorrow. Let us go,” he calls for the guards and heads out the entrance, Nancy following behind him. Jeffrey stops in front of Maxwell, placed a soft kiss on Elizabeth’s forehead and wishes her good night before heading out the door.
Philip and Diane stand. “Thank you, James,” Philip says, patting Governor Valenti on the back. “I would say this ball was a success … very eventful … but a success, nonetheless. It is one that will have everyone talking about for ages to come.”
“I agree,” Valenti says, waving to Diane and Philip. “Just you wait, everyone will be dying to come to the next Valenti Evans Engagement Ball.”
Alexander and Isabella blush and look away from each other. Isabella glares at her father.
Valenti shakes his head with a laugh. “I will see you tomorrow, Philip. You rest up now.”
“We will,” Philip replies before heading out the door.
Alexander and Michael stand, each bidding their significant other goodbye before heading for the door, bowing to the Governor on their way out.
“Well, I will be going now,” Maxwell nods towards them before turning to head out the door.
“Maxwell,” Maria calls to him. “You are still holding Elizabeth.”
Maxwell turns his head and looks back at her before replying. “I know,” he says simply and turns to leave out the door.
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“Maxwell,” Diane calls after her son as he heads towards the stairs. “What are you doing with Elizabeth? I thought she was staying at the Valenti’s.”
Maxwell shakes his head nonchalantly. “No, she is staying with me.”
“Maxwell,” Diane warns. “I do not think …”
“Mother, please,” he interrupts her. “I need her to be here with me so I can watch after her. A lot has happened and … I just … I just need to know that she is safe. Please?”
Diane sighs in defeat. She can never say no to Maxwell. “Fine. But at least put her in the guest bedroom.”
“We are fine, mother,” Maxwell says, heading up the stairs again.
“Maxwell,” Diane stops him. “Now that is most certainly not a good idea.”
“Please, mother,” he begs her. “Just allow me this. I want to be next to her, just in case. Please trust me and allow me this.”
Diane shakes her head and throws her hands up in defeat. “Fine. Do as you wish. But you will not jeopardize her innocence. We will not speak of this to anyone. You are to sleep on the floor with your bedroom door open. And you had better be glad that I am one hell of a mother,” she says, pointing her finger at him.
“The best,” Maxwell says to her with a wide smile. “Good night, mother,” he whispers to her as he ascends the stairs up to his bedroom.
“I am trusting you, Maxwell,” she calls up to him. “Good night.”
Maxwell kicks open his door and carries Elizabeth in with ease. Maxwell will have to force her to eat more. She is far too skinny for his liking. Not that he will love her any less or any more. Maxwell chuckles. Is it even possible to love her more than he already does? He will just have to wait and find out.
Maxwell lowers her onto his bed, laying her down gently and covering her with a blanket. He stands and looks around his bedroom before sighing. He supposes he will sleep on the floor.
He hears a soft knock before turning to find his younger brother.
“Hello, Maxwell,” Alexander whispers as he enters the bedroom, holding sheets and blankets in his arms.
“Alexander,” Maxwell says, nodding his head at his little brother.
“Mother told me to bring you these,” Alexander says, handing Maxwell the bundle. “She says you will need them,” Alexander glances over at Elizabeth’s sleeping form with a smirk on his face.
“Thank you,” Maxwell says, taking the sheets from Alexander.
“No need to thank me,” Alexander says, the smirk still plastered on his face. He starts snickering again.
“Good night, Alexander,” Maxwell says, waiting for Alexander to leave.
“What … oh … good night, Maxwell,” Alexander heads for the door but then turns back around. “I almost forgot. Mother also says to remind you that you both have to meet with the Governor tomorrow, or should I say today,” Alexander adds with a yawn. “So … be certain you get some sleep,” Alexander winks at Maxwell and leaves the bedroom.
Maxwell rolls his eyes and shuts the door after Alexander. He spreads the sheets and blanket down on the ground and is about to get undressed when he stops to reconsider it. Will Elizabeth mind if he takes off his clothes? He normally sleeps in his shorts. But will that make her uncomfortable?
Maxwell shakes his thoughts. It probably will not. After all, he spent the entire time in the cave without his shirt on and she never once commented on it. Maxwell removes his shirt and pants and threw them to the side. He moves over to the bed to grab his extra pillow.
Maxwell looks down at her. She looks so peaceful, lying there, like an angel. Her lips suddenly start to curl up at the ends and he smiles. She must be having a good dream. Maxwell wonders if she dreams of him. Heaven knows he dreams of her constantly.
He lifts his hand and softly brushes her hair away from her face. He does not mean for his hand to linger there or to travel down to her neck, caressing it softly. He hears her whimper softly, leaning into his touch. Yes, she is most certainly having a good dream.
She begins murmuring what sounds oddly like his name, and he smiles. Is she dreaming of him? He hopes so. When he gazes down at her again, he sees her eyes open.
“Maxwell …” Elizabeth whispers.
“Hello, beautiful,” he says, running his fingers through her hair again.
Elizabeth glances around. “This is your bedroom,” she says to him.
“Yes,” Maxwell smiles at her.
“Your bed,” she states, shifting about a little.
“Yes, it is,” Maxwell nods his head.
“You are also on the bed, with me,” Elizabeth says, raising her eyebrows at him.
“Oh, yes … I was … getting a pillow,” he stutters out, very aware that he is not wearing much at the moment.
“That is very kind of you,” Elizabeth says to him with a smile.
“What is?” Maxwell asks, using the pillow to cover himself.
Elizabeth tilts her head over to the floor where he has sheets spread out. “You giving me your bed and sleeping on the floor. That is very gentlemanly of you.”
“Why, thank you. But I am not sleeping on the floor,” Maxwell says, shaking his head.
“You are not?” Elizabeth asks, her eyebrows scrunching up in confusing. “But I thought …”
“No, silly,” he smiles at her. “I am not sleeping on the floor. You are.”
“Oh,” Elizabeth says, blinking her eyes multiple times before sitting up to move to the floor.
“No, Elizabeth,” Maxwell says, chuckling as he gently pushes her back down to the bed. “You are not sleeping on the floor.”
Elizabeth is confused. “But you just said …”
“I was teasing, love,” Maxwell says with a smile.
“Oh,” Elizabeth sighs and pouts her lips. “It is too early in the morning to play tricks on me.”
“I know. I apologize,” Maxwell leans down and kisses her on the forehead. “Good night, Elizabeth.”
“Good night, Maxwell,” Elizabeth says snuggling up in the covers. “Sweet dreams. Do you dream about me, Maxwell?”
“Always,” Maxwell says, settling down on the floor.
Elizabeth smiles. “I dream about you too.”
“You do?” Maxwell grins, laying his head down on the pillow. “What did you dream about?”
“It is the strangest thing,” Elizabeth says, shaking her head. “You and I were in a cave together all night,” Elizabeth says with a yawn.
“Really?” Maxwell asks, glancing over toward the bed.
“Yes,” Elizabeth nods her head. “A lot of strange things happened. There was a fire and berries. And we talked about the oddest things …” Elizabeth finishes up with a yawn.
“About lines you learned from men from the warehouse and you promising yourself to the gods?” Maxwell asks.
“How did you know?” Elizabeth asks, her voice trailing off.
“Lucky guess,” Maxwell whispers, blinking his eyes and shaking his head. “Maybe you should sleep, Elizabeth. We will discuss this in the morning.”
“I will tell you all about it in the morning,” Elizabeth says, drifting off to sleep.
Maxwell lies there, staring up at the ceiling, not knowing what to think. Perhaps she is right. Perhaps it has all been a dream …
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Chapter Thirty Six:
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“Now that everyone is here and accounted for, we have a great deal to discuss,” James says, addressing everyone in the room.
They are all seated in the Valenti living area with guards at every entrance, apparently for the King and Queen’s protection. The King and Queen are seated on one side of the room. James is standing at the center, facing everyone. Philip is seated on a love seat with Diane leaning on the armrest. Michael, Maria, Alexander, and Isabella are squeezed together on the settee.
And Maxwell is seated on an extra chair that a servant managed to bring out. Elizabeth in his arms. A servant offered to bring out a chair for Elizabeth, but Maxwell declined, telling them that they were just fine as they are. Maxwell and Elizabeth have been very comfortable around each other, one not leaving the other’s side since they left the cave. No one will comment upon it.
“Well then,” James says, clasping his hands together. “Where to begin? How are you feeling, Elizabeth?”
Elizabeth smiles politely at him. “Much better.”
“Are you certain we do not need to call upon a doctor? Just in case,” Diane asks, concerned.
Elizabeth shakes her head. “I am fine. More than fine. Really,” she says, trying to reassure everyone.
Maxwell smiles at her and rubs her back soothingly.
“She should be fine. So long as Maxwell is with her,” the King speaks up.
“What do you mean, your Highness?” Elizabeth turns, nodding slightly and asks, giving the King a questioning look.
“It is very complicated,” he begins. “You see, because you are of royal blood, you have these … gifts … magic, if you will.”
“What?” Elizabeth asks, thoroughly confused. “Gifts? Magic? These strange incidents are because I am a Princess?”
“Princess?” Maxwell looks at them in shock. “Elizabeth is …”
“She is,” Jeffrey confirms Maxwell’s thoughts. “Elizabeth is my daughter.”
Everyone stares at him in shock. They all suddenly stand, all but Elizabeth. Maxwell would have too if it were not for Elizabeth, seated on his lap.
“I think we should leave,” Maria says as she heads out the room, everyone else following. Elizabeth has matters to discuss with her family without everyone else intruding.
“Elizabeth,” Maxwell whispers to her, leaning forward. “I do not think I should be here.”
“No, Maxwell. Stay with me. Please?” she pleads with him, whispering loud enough for only him to hear. “I am frightened.”
Maxwell nods his head with a slight smile and sits back down, pulling her to him.
“Elizabeth …” Nancy tries to explain.
“If I am your daughter, then why was I raised by Kyle? Why am I not with you? Did you not want me?” the questions pour out of Elizabeth, questions that she has been seeking answers to for her entire life and only now been able to speak.
“Do not ever think that, Elizabeth,” Jeffrey says, standing before her her. “You are my daughter and I would never not want you.”
“Then why am I not with you? Why did you leave me to be raised by Kyle?” Elizabeth asks, tears streaming down her face, all her insecurities coming forth. “Am I that terrible of a child for her parents to have abandoned her?”
“No, darling. You are not,” Jeffrey says, shaking his head, wiping away her tears. “You were not abandoned. And you are not terrible. You are the most beautiful girl I have ever seen. And from what they have told me, you are the sweetest, most compassionate, and gentlest person that ever existed.”
“Why did you leave me with Kyle?” Elizabeth asks, her voice barely above a whisper.
“I did not want to. Believe me. I did not want to,” Jeffrey says, shaking his head slowly. “I had no idea you existed. Because if I had known, I would have climbed the highest mountains, swam the widest rivers to get to you. You are my daughter, my child.”
Tears flow down Elizabeth’s cheeks. There are so many questions swirling through her mind. So many answers she has been searching for. But right now, she forgives him for everything. She finally finds her family. “Father,” she whispers to him before jumping into his arms.
“Lizzie,” he whispers to her, kissing the top of her head. “You will come stay with me? Come live with me in the palace? Because now that I have you, I will never let you go again. I apologize, Maxwell,” Jeffrey says, looking over at the young man. “But I do not know if I will ever be able to give her away to you.”
Elizabeth nudges her father lightly. “What makes you think I want to marry Maxwell?” She turns to look at Maxwell, narrowing her eyes playfully.
“But …” Maxwell protests.
“You are right,” Jeffrey mocks gasping. “After all, you are a princess. And princesses do not marry just anyone.”
“But …”
They both laugh. Elizabeth is the first to control her giggles. She looks toward Nancy. “Does that make you my mother?”
Nancy slowly nods her head. “Yes, that does. You are my daughter.”
Elizabeth nods her head. But for some reason, she does not feel as comfortable around Nancy as she does with Jeffrey. Perhaps it is because he approached her first. He is willing and wanting to make her a part of his life before she had even uttered a word to him.
Or maybe it is all that she has learned of her mother from Claudia. Or, at least, how Amy simply left Claudia, with no one to care for her. “Amy suits you better.”
Nancy gasps. “How … how did you know.”
“I have met with my grandmother,” Elizabeth says, shrugging her shoulders.
“Oh,” Nancy says, nodding her head.
The room is suddenly silent. There seems to be tension in the air. Elizabeth stands. “Perhaps we should finish the rest of the business at hand.”
“Yes,” Jeffrey agrees, nodding his head. “The sooner we get this all over with, the sooner I can take you home. I have a bedroom prepared for you,” Jeffrey tells Elizabeth with a smile. Elizabeth smiles back at him before heading off to call everyone else back into the living area.
--------------
“Governor, what else do we have to discuss?” Philip asks, yawning. “It is nearly dawn and none of us have slept a wink. I think I speak for all of us when I say that we are all very tired.”
“We only have one more thing left to deal with,” Valenti says with a sigh. “Sean’s death … or rather … Sean’s murder. I have already spoken with my brother-in-law. He wishes to keep updated with any finds, even the smallest clue. He wants vengeance.”
“That Whittaker DeLuca,” Philip says, shaking his head. “Violence is not the key to anything. Do you understand that, boys?” Philip asks, looking at each of his sons pointedly.
“Brains before brawn,” Alexander says with a salute. “Aye aye, pop.”
Michael scoffs. “That is good since Alexander has too much brains and not any brawn.”
“Watch is,” Alexander protests, throwing a cushion at Michael.
“I can help with the Sean murder,” Maxwell speaks in a hushed voice, not only because the topic is not one he likes to discuss, but also because Elizabeth has fallen asleep with her head leaning on his shoulder. He does not want to wake her. She has had one hell of a night and needs her rest. But they have matters to deal with first. “I witnessed it.”
Everyone gasps and turns to Maxwell.
“We will have to question you,” Valenti tells Maxwell.
Maxwell looks worried. “Alright, Governor.”
“Do not worry, Maxwell. It is just procedure,” the Governor reassures him. “I will need to question Elizabeth, as well.”
Maxwell nods his head with a sigh. He does not want Elizabeth to have to deal with any of this. He wants to let her live in a perfect bubble where she will not come into contact with anything bad or evil. She already has a great deal to worry over. She has to get acquainted with her parents, move to the palace, deal with being royalty and the etiquette of being a princess, not to mention having to deal with him, constantly wanting to be around her and touching her, Maxwell adds with a smirk.
He glances down at his angel lying peacefully in his arms. He brushes the hair off of her face, rubbing her neck soothingly. “Governor, if you do not mind, can we discuss this at a later date? Elizabeth really should rest.”
“We must deal with this Sean issue as soon as possible,” Valenti says with a sigh. “But, since Elizabeth is not well, I suppose we will have to postpone until tomorrow.”
Maxwell smiles appreciatively towards the Governor before standing, lifting Elizabeth into his arms on his way as he heads toward the door.
“Maxwell,” Maria calls out to him with a smile. “Where are you taking Elizabeth?”
“Yes, where are you taking her?” the King speak up. “She is coming home with me.”
“With all due respect your Majesty, but it does take quite a while to get to the palace from here and Elizabeth is rather tired,” Maria says, pointing towards Elizabeth. “And with her belongings already here and her bedroom prepared, I suggest she remain here for the night.”
“But …” the King sighs in submission. “You are right. She is tired. I will send for her tomorrow. Let us go,” he calls for the guards and heads out the entrance, Nancy following behind him. Jeffrey stops in front of Maxwell, placed a soft kiss on Elizabeth’s forehead and wishes her good night before heading out the door.
Philip and Diane stand. “Thank you, James,” Philip says, patting Governor Valenti on the back. “I would say this ball was a success … very eventful … but a success, nonetheless. It is one that will have everyone talking about for ages to come.”
“I agree,” Valenti says, waving to Diane and Philip. “Just you wait, everyone will be dying to come to the next Valenti Evans Engagement Ball.”
Alexander and Isabella blush and look away from each other. Isabella glares at her father.
Valenti shakes his head with a laugh. “I will see you tomorrow, Philip. You rest up now.”
“We will,” Philip replies before heading out the door.
Alexander and Michael stand, each bidding their significant other goodbye before heading for the door, bowing to the Governor on their way out.
“Well, I will be going now,” Maxwell nods towards them before turning to head out the door.
“Maxwell,” Maria calls to him. “You are still holding Elizabeth.”
Maxwell turns his head and looks back at her before replying. “I know,” he says simply and turns to leave out the door.
--------------
“Maxwell,” Diane calls after her son as he heads towards the stairs. “What are you doing with Elizabeth? I thought she was staying at the Valenti’s.”
Maxwell shakes his head nonchalantly. “No, she is staying with me.”
“Maxwell,” Diane warns. “I do not think …”
“Mother, please,” he interrupts her. “I need her to be here with me so I can watch after her. A lot has happened and … I just … I just need to know that she is safe. Please?”
Diane sighs in defeat. She can never say no to Maxwell. “Fine. But at least put her in the guest bedroom.”
“We are fine, mother,” Maxwell says, heading up the stairs again.
“Maxwell,” Diane stops him. “Now that is most certainly not a good idea.”
“Please, mother,” he begs her. “Just allow me this. I want to be next to her, just in case. Please trust me and allow me this.”
Diane shakes her head and throws her hands up in defeat. “Fine. Do as you wish. But you will not jeopardize her innocence. We will not speak of this to anyone. You are to sleep on the floor with your bedroom door open. And you had better be glad that I am one hell of a mother,” she says, pointing her finger at him.
“The best,” Maxwell says to her with a wide smile. “Good night, mother,” he whispers to her as he ascends the stairs up to his bedroom.
“I am trusting you, Maxwell,” she calls up to him. “Good night.”
Maxwell kicks open his door and carries Elizabeth in with ease. Maxwell will have to force her to eat more. She is far too skinny for his liking. Not that he will love her any less or any more. Maxwell chuckles. Is it even possible to love her more than he already does? He will just have to wait and find out.
Maxwell lowers her onto his bed, laying her down gently and covering her with a blanket. He stands and looks around his bedroom before sighing. He supposes he will sleep on the floor.
He hears a soft knock before turning to find his younger brother.
“Hello, Maxwell,” Alexander whispers as he enters the bedroom, holding sheets and blankets in his arms.
“Alexander,” Maxwell says, nodding his head at his little brother.
“Mother told me to bring you these,” Alexander says, handing Maxwell the bundle. “She says you will need them,” Alexander glances over at Elizabeth’s sleeping form with a smirk on his face.
“Thank you,” Maxwell says, taking the sheets from Alexander.
“No need to thank me,” Alexander says, the smirk still plastered on his face. He starts snickering again.
“Good night, Alexander,” Maxwell says, waiting for Alexander to leave.
“What … oh … good night, Maxwell,” Alexander heads for the door but then turns back around. “I almost forgot. Mother also says to remind you that you both have to meet with the Governor tomorrow, or should I say today,” Alexander adds with a yawn. “So … be certain you get some sleep,” Alexander winks at Maxwell and leaves the bedroom.
Maxwell rolls his eyes and shuts the door after Alexander. He spreads the sheets and blanket down on the ground and is about to get undressed when he stops to reconsider it. Will Elizabeth mind if he takes off his clothes? He normally sleeps in his shorts. But will that make her uncomfortable?
Maxwell shakes his thoughts. It probably will not. After all, he spent the entire time in the cave without his shirt on and she never once commented on it. Maxwell removes his shirt and pants and threw them to the side. He moves over to the bed to grab his extra pillow.
Maxwell looks down at her. She looks so peaceful, lying there, like an angel. Her lips suddenly start to curl up at the ends and he smiles. She must be having a good dream. Maxwell wonders if she dreams of him. Heaven knows he dreams of her constantly.
He lifts his hand and softly brushes her hair away from her face. He does not mean for his hand to linger there or to travel down to her neck, caressing it softly. He hears her whimper softly, leaning into his touch. Yes, she is most certainly having a good dream.
She begins murmuring what sounds oddly like his name, and he smiles. Is she dreaming of him? He hopes so. When he gazes down at her again, he sees her eyes open.
“Maxwell …” Elizabeth whispers.
“Hello, beautiful,” he says, running his fingers through her hair again.
Elizabeth glances around. “This is your bedroom,” she says to him.
“Yes,” Maxwell smiles at her.
“Your bed,” she states, shifting about a little.
“Yes, it is,” Maxwell nods his head.
“You are also on the bed, with me,” Elizabeth says, raising her eyebrows at him.
“Oh, yes … I was … getting a pillow,” he stutters out, very aware that he is not wearing much at the moment.
“That is very kind of you,” Elizabeth says to him with a smile.
“What is?” Maxwell asks, using the pillow to cover himself.
Elizabeth tilts her head over to the floor where he has sheets spread out. “You giving me your bed and sleeping on the floor. That is very gentlemanly of you.”
“Why, thank you. But I am not sleeping on the floor,” Maxwell says, shaking his head.
“You are not?” Elizabeth asks, her eyebrows scrunching up in confusing. “But I thought …”
“No, silly,” he smiles at her. “I am not sleeping on the floor. You are.”
“Oh,” Elizabeth says, blinking her eyes multiple times before sitting up to move to the floor.
“No, Elizabeth,” Maxwell says, chuckling as he gently pushes her back down to the bed. “You are not sleeping on the floor.”
Elizabeth is confused. “But you just said …”
“I was teasing, love,” Maxwell says with a smile.
“Oh,” Elizabeth sighs and pouts her lips. “It is too early in the morning to play tricks on me.”
“I know. I apologize,” Maxwell leans down and kisses her on the forehead. “Good night, Elizabeth.”
“Good night, Maxwell,” Elizabeth says snuggling up in the covers. “Sweet dreams. Do you dream about me, Maxwell?”
“Always,” Maxwell says, settling down on the floor.
Elizabeth smiles. “I dream about you too.”
“You do?” Maxwell grins, laying his head down on the pillow. “What did you dream about?”
“It is the strangest thing,” Elizabeth says, shaking her head. “You and I were in a cave together all night,” Elizabeth says with a yawn.
“Really?” Maxwell asks, glancing over toward the bed.
“Yes,” Elizabeth nods her head. “A lot of strange things happened. There was a fire and berries. And we talked about the oddest things …” Elizabeth finishes up with a yawn.
“About lines you learned from men from the warehouse and you promising yourself to the gods?” Maxwell asks.
“How did you know?” Elizabeth asks, her voice trailing off.
“Lucky guess,” Maxwell whispers, blinking his eyes and shaking his head. “Maybe you should sleep, Elizabeth. We will discuss this in the morning.”
“I will tell you all about it in the morning,” Elizabeth says, drifting off to sleep.
Maxwell lies there, staring up at the ceiling, not knowing what to think. Perhaps she is right. Perhaps it has all been a dream …
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flyawayraven
- Enthusiastic Roswellian
- Posts: 91
- Joined: Thu Mar 10, 2005 1:40 am
- Location: Madison Wi
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Chapter Thirty Seven:
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“Is what you are telling me the truth?” the Governor asks, staring at the boy, in shock.
“Yes, Governor. I am being completely honest. I heard this with my own ears,” Maxwell says, leaning forward in his seat.
“Then Khivar …”
“Is the one who killed Sean and is now after Elizabeth,” Maxwell’s anger begins to rise. If Khivar even lays a hand on Elizabeth …
“Where is Elizabeth now?” the Governor asks, suddenly worried.
“The guards came by this morning and took her away,” Maxwell says with a sad smile on his face. He sighs thinking of the events of the morning. Maxwell woke with his dreams coming true. Well, not quite. He woke up beside Elizabeth, several feet away, but it has been the most progress he has made yet.
Maxwell is thrown from his thoughts as the Governor jumps from his chair. “You allowed Elizabeth to enter the palace while Khivar is set out to kill her?!”
“I am not a completely incompetent fool,” Maxwell defends himself. “I will never allow Elizabeth anywhere near Khivar. The guards have assured me that Khivar has left the palace on business.”
“What business will Khivar have elsewhere?” James wonders.
“I do not know. But what are we to do about Elizabeth?” he asks, changing the subject.
“What can we do?” James asks, shrugging his shoulders. “He is royalty, the King’s brother, or rather, half-brother, but royalty nonetheless.
“But Elizabeth is the princess, heir to the throne. She is higher in lineage and of more importance than Khivar. If he is attempting to harm her …” Maxwell grows frantic and begins pacing about the room. He must find a way to be rid of Khivar.
“That is not good enough, Maxwell,” the Governor shakes his head sadly. “Khivar is royalty. Besides that, we need evidence to incriminate him. One witness against a member of the Royal Family is not enough, especially not you. And I doubt we can simply ask him to confess to his crimes …”
“Wait one moment,” Maxwell stops his pacing and interrupts the Governor. “Why especially not me?”
“Honestly, Maxwell,” James takes a deep breath and continues. “You are still a suspect, one of the potential murderers.”
Maxwell laughs, not believing what he is hearing. “You are joking.”
“Sadly, no,” the Governor says, shaking his head. “If I did not know you and your character, I would have good reason to believe that you had done it.”
“Why?” Maxwell asks, still in denial.
“For instance,” Valenti begins. “You and Sean have been at each other’s necks since you were born.”
“That is just friendly competition. And it ends there. Everyone knows that,” Maxwell defends himself. “Everyone is always witness to these duals of mine and Sean.”
“Yes, and everyone knows about your brawl in the alley,” James contradicts him.
“That is different. Elizabeth was involved,” Maxwell whispers softly.
“And this time, Elizabeth was kidnapped. You went after her. We all know how angry you can be at times,” James says.
Maxwell nods his head slowly. “But … I would never murder anyone.”
“I know that, Maxwell,” the Governor says slowly. “But other people may not.”
“What else is there?” Maxwell asks, seating himself back in the chair.
“There is also reason to believe that you may be framing Khivar if you blame this on him.”
“How?” Maxwell asks, making a face.
“Well, if for some odd reason, Elizabeth cannot prove herself to be the King’s daughter, Khivar is next in the lineage to take the throne.”
“But, what difference does that make to me?” Maxwell asks, confused.
“If you rid of Khivar, and the King ill, Elizabeth will be the only one left to take the throne,” James explains.
Maxwell shakes his head. “I still do not see …”
“Maxwell. You have somehow managed to have Elizabeth fall in love with you. Many will see you unworthy since you are not Royalty yourself. Thus, they will grow to believe that you are only with Elizabeth to become …”
“Ludicrous,” Maxwell jumps from his seat. “I am not using Elizabeth. I do not care for any thrones or for Royalty.”
“Still,” James sighs. “If you are to marry her, that makes you …”
“So …” Maxwell says, nodding his head. “You think that I am using her? You think that I am only with her because I am conspiring to take over the throne?” Maxwell pounds his fists on the desk.
“That is not what I believe, Maxwell,” James says in a gentle voice. “I am simply informing you of how I view the situation from the outside, inward. This may be a Royal concern. And in that case, it will be the Royal Courts who decide and this notion is, more likely than not, what they will believe. But until then, unless we can find more witnesses, Sean’s case will be left unsolved.”
Maxwell nods his head with a sigh and turns toward the door to leave.
“I am only trying to help, Maxwell,” James calls out to him.
“Thank you, Governor,” Maxwell replies softly as he leaves the room.
--------------
Elizabeth strolls down the street. She is finally able to escape the pesky servants. She does not know if she can adjust to a life with others waiting upon her, hand and foot.
She is just around the corner when she sees him, standing at the end of the street, smiling at her. She thinks she might faint. Her knees are weak. He is always able to do that to her, just with a glance.
He reaches her with merely a few steps. Had he not been at the other end of the street? How is he able to reach her so quickly?
“Hello, beautiful,” his words melt her.
“Hello,” she manages out, though her heart is beating a mile a minute.
“I have missed you,” he whispers into her ear.
“I have missed you as well,” Elizabeth whispers back. She unconsciously leans forward.
Maxwell smiles wickedly as he lowers his head, parting his lips slightly as it brushes against hers.
“Elizabeth, pay attention,” the tutor taps lightly on Elizabeth’s desk to wake her.
Elizabeth jerks her head up, startled. Her eyes scan around at her surroundings. She groans when she realizes where she is. And that she has only been daydreaming. Darn that tutor.
It is not as though she does not enjoy learning. Quite the contrary. She loves to learn. She agrees completely when her father suggests she have a tutor. But this tutor is not here to discuss philosophy or read Shakespeare with her. He is here to tutor her on the etiquette of being a Princess. And it is the dullest thing Elizabeth has ever endured.
“Now … let us continue. Rule number thirty-six of being a proper princess, table manners. A princess must always eat her meals slowly, savoring each bite of her food, only ever taking small bites at a time. And when eating, she must always eat from the outside of her plate, inward.”
“Why?” Elizabeth asks, challenging the tutor.
“There are many reasons,” he explains. “For one, there is less chance of spillage.”
“But I have never spilled my food before,” Elizabeth protests. “What is so important of eating in that way?”
“Well, before you were a lowly little girl and now you are a princess,” the tutor states simply.
Elizabeth lifts her hand and glances over them, she lifts her hair to look at it. She stands and glances down at her feet, and then lifts her arms out to her side and spin about before sitting back down. “Yup, I am still me.”
“That brings up rule number fifty-three, proper grammar,” the tutor says, opening his book again and flipping through the pages. “You will speak clearly and correctly. Articulation is of the utmost importance. For instance, you will say the word clearly, ‘yes’, never ‘yup’. Slang is not tolerated.”
“But why, so long as people understand me?” Elizabeth asks, leaning forward with her head in her hands.
“Tisk tisk, Elizabeth. Have we already forget rule number twenty-seven? No slouching?”
“No,” Elizabeth says, jaded as she sits up straight. “Being a princess is hard work.”
“It is a great deal of work,” the tutor comments. “But you are Royalty. It is your duty. Now, on to the next rule.”
Elizabeth groans. “How many more rules are there?”
“Well, there are approximately one-hundred,” the tutor says, adjusting his glasses.
“W-wha … w-what?” Elizabeth coughs out. “You must be joking. I am not sitting around for that!”
“Rule number forty-two, Elizabeth, no complaining,” the tutor berates.
“I will complain if I so choose to,” Elizabeth says, pouting. “When am I allowed to recess? I have been sitting here for hours.”
“I hate to inform you, Elizabeth, but princesses are not allowed breaks. A princess is a princess for each and every moment of each and every day of their life. Moving on …”
“I will be recessing now,” Elizabeth says as she stands.
“No, you are not,” he says, staring at her.
“Yes, I am,” Elizabeth says more forcefully.
The tutor huffs. “Just … do as I say, Elizabeth,” the tutor spits at her, becoming annoyed with the girl.
“Who would dare raise their voice at my Princess?” the King asks as he strolls in.
Elizabeth jumps towards her father with a smile.
“Elizabeth, how are your studies?” he asks, sitting down beside her.
Elizabeth pouts her lips and glares over at her tutor. “They are very dreary.”
“Why do you not go for a stroll in the gardens then?” the King asks, brushing aside a few strands of her hair.
“I would like to, father. But someone forbade me from it,” she says the last part quite loudly, glaring at her tutor, who tenses, fearful he might be punished.
“Lighten up, Nicholas. This is her first day,” the King says towards the tutor.
“Yes, sire,” Nicholas says, bowing his head.
“I still do not see why Alexander cannot be my tutor,” she whispers to her father.
“I highly doubt that Alexander Evans is capable of teaching the proper etiquettes of a princess,” Nicholas answers smugly.
Elizabeth glares at him.
“Why don’t you go for a stroll in the garden, Elizabeth? It is rather nice this time of year.” Jeffrey says.
“Actually,” Elizabeth says, biting her lip. “I was hoping to go into the city?”
“Rule number ten, Elizabeth,” Nicholas interrupts.
“No leaving the palace,” Elizabeth mouths along with him, rolling her eyes.
“Please, father?” she begs him.
Jeffrey sighs. “No Elizabeth. This is one of the rules that you must follow.”
“But I wish to visit with Maxwell,” she protests.
“Maxwell may come visit you during the day, when you are not busy with your studies,” the King says as he stands. “Now, there are only a few more hours until dinner, why do you not go to your room and rest until then?”
“May I send for Maxwell to keep me company?” she asks, her eyes hopeful.
“No, not today, Elizabeth,” the King shakes his head. “It is your first day in the palace and I would like for you to become acquainted with the grounds.”
“Yes, father,” she drones before she heads off to her room grudgingly.
Do not think of Maxwell. Do not think of Maxwell. Do not think of Maxwell … she chants a song in her mind. How is she to go without him? But her father will allow for him to visit when she is not busy with her studies. She scoffs. If every day is to be like today, she will never have time for anything other than her studies.
How is she to live without seeing Maxwell? It is impossible. You simply do not have an Elizabeth without her Maxwell. And no Maxwell without his Elizabeth. Just having Maxwell by himself or Elizabeth by herself is much too incomplete. It is absurd, completely absurd.
And she will gamble her life that Maxwell thinks the same. If only she can see him to ask.
-------------------------------------------------
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Chapter Thirty Seven:
-------------------------------------------------
“Is what you are telling me the truth?” the Governor asks, staring at the boy, in shock.
“Yes, Governor. I am being completely honest. I heard this with my own ears,” Maxwell says, leaning forward in his seat.
“Then Khivar …”
“Is the one who killed Sean and is now after Elizabeth,” Maxwell’s anger begins to rise. If Khivar even lays a hand on Elizabeth …
“Where is Elizabeth now?” the Governor asks, suddenly worried.
“The guards came by this morning and took her away,” Maxwell says with a sad smile on his face. He sighs thinking of the events of the morning. Maxwell woke with his dreams coming true. Well, not quite. He woke up beside Elizabeth, several feet away, but it has been the most progress he has made yet.
Maxwell is thrown from his thoughts as the Governor jumps from his chair. “You allowed Elizabeth to enter the palace while Khivar is set out to kill her?!”
“I am not a completely incompetent fool,” Maxwell defends himself. “I will never allow Elizabeth anywhere near Khivar. The guards have assured me that Khivar has left the palace on business.”
“What business will Khivar have elsewhere?” James wonders.
“I do not know. But what are we to do about Elizabeth?” he asks, changing the subject.
“What can we do?” James asks, shrugging his shoulders. “He is royalty, the King’s brother, or rather, half-brother, but royalty nonetheless.
“But Elizabeth is the princess, heir to the throne. She is higher in lineage and of more importance than Khivar. If he is attempting to harm her …” Maxwell grows frantic and begins pacing about the room. He must find a way to be rid of Khivar.
“That is not good enough, Maxwell,” the Governor shakes his head sadly. “Khivar is royalty. Besides that, we need evidence to incriminate him. One witness against a member of the Royal Family is not enough, especially not you. And I doubt we can simply ask him to confess to his crimes …”
“Wait one moment,” Maxwell stops his pacing and interrupts the Governor. “Why especially not me?”
“Honestly, Maxwell,” James takes a deep breath and continues. “You are still a suspect, one of the potential murderers.”
Maxwell laughs, not believing what he is hearing. “You are joking.”
“Sadly, no,” the Governor says, shaking his head. “If I did not know you and your character, I would have good reason to believe that you had done it.”
“Why?” Maxwell asks, still in denial.
“For instance,” Valenti begins. “You and Sean have been at each other’s necks since you were born.”
“That is just friendly competition. And it ends there. Everyone knows that,” Maxwell defends himself. “Everyone is always witness to these duals of mine and Sean.”
“Yes, and everyone knows about your brawl in the alley,” James contradicts him.
“That is different. Elizabeth was involved,” Maxwell whispers softly.
“And this time, Elizabeth was kidnapped. You went after her. We all know how angry you can be at times,” James says.
Maxwell nods his head slowly. “But … I would never murder anyone.”
“I know that, Maxwell,” the Governor says slowly. “But other people may not.”
“What else is there?” Maxwell asks, seating himself back in the chair.
“There is also reason to believe that you may be framing Khivar if you blame this on him.”
“How?” Maxwell asks, making a face.
“Well, if for some odd reason, Elizabeth cannot prove herself to be the King’s daughter, Khivar is next in the lineage to take the throne.”
“But, what difference does that make to me?” Maxwell asks, confused.
“If you rid of Khivar, and the King ill, Elizabeth will be the only one left to take the throne,” James explains.
Maxwell shakes his head. “I still do not see …”
“Maxwell. You have somehow managed to have Elizabeth fall in love with you. Many will see you unworthy since you are not Royalty yourself. Thus, they will grow to believe that you are only with Elizabeth to become …”
“Ludicrous,” Maxwell jumps from his seat. “I am not using Elizabeth. I do not care for any thrones or for Royalty.”
“Still,” James sighs. “If you are to marry her, that makes you …”
“So …” Maxwell says, nodding his head. “You think that I am using her? You think that I am only with her because I am conspiring to take over the throne?” Maxwell pounds his fists on the desk.
“That is not what I believe, Maxwell,” James says in a gentle voice. “I am simply informing you of how I view the situation from the outside, inward. This may be a Royal concern. And in that case, it will be the Royal Courts who decide and this notion is, more likely than not, what they will believe. But until then, unless we can find more witnesses, Sean’s case will be left unsolved.”
Maxwell nods his head with a sigh and turns toward the door to leave.
“I am only trying to help, Maxwell,” James calls out to him.
“Thank you, Governor,” Maxwell replies softly as he leaves the room.
--------------
Elizabeth strolls down the street. She is finally able to escape the pesky servants. She does not know if she can adjust to a life with others waiting upon her, hand and foot.
She is just around the corner when she sees him, standing at the end of the street, smiling at her. She thinks she might faint. Her knees are weak. He is always able to do that to her, just with a glance.
He reaches her with merely a few steps. Had he not been at the other end of the street? How is he able to reach her so quickly?
“Hello, beautiful,” his words melt her.
“Hello,” she manages out, though her heart is beating a mile a minute.
“I have missed you,” he whispers into her ear.
“I have missed you as well,” Elizabeth whispers back. She unconsciously leans forward.
Maxwell smiles wickedly as he lowers his head, parting his lips slightly as it brushes against hers.
“Elizabeth, pay attention,” the tutor taps lightly on Elizabeth’s desk to wake her.
Elizabeth jerks her head up, startled. Her eyes scan around at her surroundings. She groans when she realizes where she is. And that she has only been daydreaming. Darn that tutor.
It is not as though she does not enjoy learning. Quite the contrary. She loves to learn. She agrees completely when her father suggests she have a tutor. But this tutor is not here to discuss philosophy or read Shakespeare with her. He is here to tutor her on the etiquette of being a Princess. And it is the dullest thing Elizabeth has ever endured.
“Now … let us continue. Rule number thirty-six of being a proper princess, table manners. A princess must always eat her meals slowly, savoring each bite of her food, only ever taking small bites at a time. And when eating, she must always eat from the outside of her plate, inward.”
“Why?” Elizabeth asks, challenging the tutor.
“There are many reasons,” he explains. “For one, there is less chance of spillage.”
“But I have never spilled my food before,” Elizabeth protests. “What is so important of eating in that way?”
“Well, before you were a lowly little girl and now you are a princess,” the tutor states simply.
Elizabeth lifts her hand and glances over them, she lifts her hair to look at it. She stands and glances down at her feet, and then lifts her arms out to her side and spin about before sitting back down. “Yup, I am still me.”
“That brings up rule number fifty-three, proper grammar,” the tutor says, opening his book again and flipping through the pages. “You will speak clearly and correctly. Articulation is of the utmost importance. For instance, you will say the word clearly, ‘yes’, never ‘yup’. Slang is not tolerated.”
“But why, so long as people understand me?” Elizabeth asks, leaning forward with her head in her hands.
“Tisk tisk, Elizabeth. Have we already forget rule number twenty-seven? No slouching?”
“No,” Elizabeth says, jaded as she sits up straight. “Being a princess is hard work.”
“It is a great deal of work,” the tutor comments. “But you are Royalty. It is your duty. Now, on to the next rule.”
Elizabeth groans. “How many more rules are there?”
“Well, there are approximately one-hundred,” the tutor says, adjusting his glasses.
“W-wha … w-what?” Elizabeth coughs out. “You must be joking. I am not sitting around for that!”
“Rule number forty-two, Elizabeth, no complaining,” the tutor berates.
“I will complain if I so choose to,” Elizabeth says, pouting. “When am I allowed to recess? I have been sitting here for hours.”
“I hate to inform you, Elizabeth, but princesses are not allowed breaks. A princess is a princess for each and every moment of each and every day of their life. Moving on …”
“I will be recessing now,” Elizabeth says as she stands.
“No, you are not,” he says, staring at her.
“Yes, I am,” Elizabeth says more forcefully.
The tutor huffs. “Just … do as I say, Elizabeth,” the tutor spits at her, becoming annoyed with the girl.
“Who would dare raise their voice at my Princess?” the King asks as he strolls in.
Elizabeth jumps towards her father with a smile.
“Elizabeth, how are your studies?” he asks, sitting down beside her.
Elizabeth pouts her lips and glares over at her tutor. “They are very dreary.”
“Why do you not go for a stroll in the gardens then?” the King asks, brushing aside a few strands of her hair.
“I would like to, father. But someone forbade me from it,” she says the last part quite loudly, glaring at her tutor, who tenses, fearful he might be punished.
“Lighten up, Nicholas. This is her first day,” the King says towards the tutor.
“Yes, sire,” Nicholas says, bowing his head.
“I still do not see why Alexander cannot be my tutor,” she whispers to her father.
“I highly doubt that Alexander Evans is capable of teaching the proper etiquettes of a princess,” Nicholas answers smugly.
Elizabeth glares at him.
“Why don’t you go for a stroll in the garden, Elizabeth? It is rather nice this time of year.” Jeffrey says.
“Actually,” Elizabeth says, biting her lip. “I was hoping to go into the city?”
“Rule number ten, Elizabeth,” Nicholas interrupts.
“No leaving the palace,” Elizabeth mouths along with him, rolling her eyes.
“Please, father?” she begs him.
Jeffrey sighs. “No Elizabeth. This is one of the rules that you must follow.”
“But I wish to visit with Maxwell,” she protests.
“Maxwell may come visit you during the day, when you are not busy with your studies,” the King says as he stands. “Now, there are only a few more hours until dinner, why do you not go to your room and rest until then?”
“May I send for Maxwell to keep me company?” she asks, her eyes hopeful.
“No, not today, Elizabeth,” the King shakes his head. “It is your first day in the palace and I would like for you to become acquainted with the grounds.”
“Yes, father,” she drones before she heads off to her room grudgingly.
Do not think of Maxwell. Do not think of Maxwell. Do not think of Maxwell … she chants a song in her mind. How is she to go without him? But her father will allow for him to visit when she is not busy with her studies. She scoffs. If every day is to be like today, she will never have time for anything other than her studies.
How is she to live without seeing Maxwell? It is impossible. You simply do not have an Elizabeth without her Maxwell. And no Maxwell without his Elizabeth. Just having Maxwell by himself or Elizabeth by herself is much too incomplete. It is absurd, completely absurd.
And she will gamble her life that Maxwell thinks the same. If only she can see him to ask.
-------------------------------------------------
-------------------------------------------------