The Lovers' Tryst

Marianne's chambers was at one of the highest points in the palace, befitting of a princess. Being so, their escape to privacy was not a quick one. Along the way, the eyes of every person they passed in the halls bulged with shock.

One maid whispered to another.

"My word, is that Agathor the Gallant with the princess?"

The other sighed.

"Indeed, it is. I would recognise that dashing face anywhere… alas, my dreams have been crushed."

Agathor and Marianne paid no heed to any of them as they continued on. By the time they had reached her chambers, their hands had grown sweaty, and their faces were flush with anticipation.

While it was certainly not the first time they had felt each other's touch, never before had it been in the eyes of the others. An exhilarating sense of relief and taboo had overcome the both of them. And yet, at the same time, the rest of the world now seemed irrelevant, if only for a moment.

Upon entering the chambers, not long after closing the door, Agathor was attacked by a small brown bird. It was a juvenile Silverhawk, yet to grow the silver feathers that characterised its species, that Agathor had saved many months ago from the ruins of Brazon and gifted to Marianne.

He ignored the flurry of pecks as he ran his fingers over the bird's head.

"Silvester, you look well-fed. And your wings look to be recovering too."

Soon the bird's attacks gave way to comfortable chirps as it submitted to the head scratches.

Marianne laughed.

"And here I thought it would take longer for Silvy to forgive you. When you left, he was depressed for three whole weeks!"

Agathor smiled.

"My charm is just irresistible."

He placed down the bird and began to take off his armour. His placed his armour, along with the Marezen Sword, on a small table by a wall. Soon, he was left with only his linen underclothes remaining.

He moved closer to Marianne. Her lips rose into a smirk.

"Who would have thought saving the world would make you so cocky, Agy."

As if in sync, Marianne wrapped her arms around Agathor's neck while he wrapped his own arms around her waist. They pulled in closer.

She continued, almost at a whisper.

"I still remember that sweet farm boy from Mardon town."

She giggled.

"Who, at first, was too shy to speak more than a few words to me before scurrying off home. Your face was always as red as a beetroot."

Agathor feigned embarrassment.

"In my defence, Marianne, all the boys were in love with you. It wasn't everyday that little Mardon was host to a beautiful stranger and her guards and with no information but a name. And a fake one at that. I did better than most by getting at least a few words in, I think."

Marianne smiled.

"Did better than most…"

She paused and stared for a moment into Agathor's eyes. They seemed as blue and deep as the vast seas.

"I suppose you did."

She nestled her head on Agathor's chest.

"Who would have thought that back then that shy farm boy, with just a wooden branch and a lion's heart, would try to take on an entire squad of Royal Knights."

"For you, Marianne, I would take on anything."

Their embrace tightened.

"But you probably didn't need to hit Captain Flokham's head so hard. I think he still holds a grudge."

Agathor laughed as he reminisced.

"After all the torment he put me through while learning the Hatalian technique, I think Flokham and I are even."

"And I still maintain they looked like they were kidnapping you. And I certainly wasn't letting them take you away from me. Especially after I'd managed to steal your first kiss."

Marianne pulled away and playfully slapped Agathor.

"Steal my first kiss? Don't act like it wasn't yours as well! Not to mention you were too shy under that pear tree that I had to make the first move! Gods, so cocky now!"

Agathor smiled as he pulled Marianne back into his arms. She did not resist.

"As I said, I have irresistible charm."

As he spoke, his eyes and Marianne's met. They both seemed to be thinking the same thing, and they knew it.

Agathor gently released himself from Marianne and hushed Silvester out of the room onto the balcony outside before moving into the bedroom section of the chambers.

Agathor closed the windows and drew the curtains close. Marianne lit some candles.

He then turned to walk back to Marianne, who was now illjuminated by the golden flickering of candle light. With every step, his heartbeat grew harder and faster.

Marianne whispered.

"Nothing stands in our way now."

Her voice was faltering with nervousness.

Agathor swallowed.

"And no reason for us not to—"

Before he could finish speaking his mouth was shut by Marianne's lips.

As their lips danced together, Agathor and Marianne undressed each other. Their hands ran across the other's body, at times gently and at other times forcefully.

By the time they fell onto her silk sheets, their bodies already seemed to have become intertwined as one entity.

This scene of passion and pleasure threatened to break the ornate wooden bedroom in two.

Their moaning and panting intermingled with talk.

"Oh, how I've missed you."

"I love you."

"I love you too."

Neither Agathor nor Marianne knew exactly how long they had shared this time together as man and woman. The world outside this one bed and their two bodies no longer existed to me.

But eventually, after a moment of needed rest, Agathor rose from the bed. His mind was still filled with ecstasy.

He wrapped a towel around his waist and went to a window in the bedroom and opened the curtains.

It was now dark outside.

Agathor smirked and thought to himself proudly.

"The King dismissed us at noon…"

Marianne, now sitting upright in bed, half her body covered by sheets, smiled at Agathor. She did not seem bothered by the passage of time.

Agathor returned to her side, bending down over the bed.

"I wish I could stay the rest of the night with you."

He paused.

"But I should be going to see my family."

Despite coming from a small provincial town, when Agathor found success and wealth as a knight in Aberle, he brought his family with him.

"Not to mention… I can't imagine the King or Queen would be happy with me staying the night before we are wed."

Marianne, now turning and rolling about suggestively in her sheets, nodded.

"Soon, we will have every night to ourselves, Agy. Promise?"

Agathor smiled.

"I promise."

She then raised her face to match his and continued sweetly.

"Though I must say, patience does not appear to be our strong point."

Agathor let out a laugh and placed a kiss on her forehead. Then one on her lips. And then another. And another. And soon the two found themselves back in bed.

Eventually, the two broke from their embrace and with reluctance Agathor made his way to the tearoom where his belongings waited for him.

He had returned home a hero, bedded his beloved, and was soon to see his family again. Agathor thought to himself as he walked that despite all the loss and pain of the past year, he truly was grateful for this life he lived.