Her Preference

Beatrice anxiously waited in the dimly lit drawing room of Devonshire manor, adorned in her best dress. The storm outside raged on, with howling winds and pounding rain that made her feel uneasy, yet strangely thrilled because the priest would come. 

The flickering shadows cast by the few candles and the fireplace added to the eerie atmosphere of the room. As she waited and thought about the priest, she couldn't help but feel a strange familiarity towards him. It was an unsettling feeling that made her heart beat faster. 

The door creaked open, and Gilbert entered the room, followed by Beatrice's trusted maid Sophie. Beatrice dismissed the other maids, leaving only Sophie with them.

She wanted to speak with the priest in private, not wanting any rumors to spread about her having an affair with the priest. She knew she could trust Sophie to keep her secrets safe.

"Good evening, Lady Beatrice. How are you feeling now?" Gilbert's low, but soft voice made Beatrice shudder with longing.

"Good evening, esteemed priest. Please, have a seat," Beatrice gestured to the seat in front of her. "I feel much better now."

"Ah, forgive me for not introducing myself earlier. My name is Gilbert Boleyn," Gilbert said, his voice flowing like honey. "But please, call me Gilbert if you prefer."

Beatrice couldn't help but notice the glint in his emerald eyes, and her body trembled with passion. She wanted him, despite the fear that still lingered in the back of her mind.

"If you don't mind, then I would love to call you Gilbert," Beatrice said, her voice laced with a hint of flirtation as she tried to erase the formality between them and be more intimate.

As Gilbert sat down, Beatrice couldn't help but notice the way his robes draped over his broad shoulders. She felt a wave of heat wash over her as he settled into the seat opposite her.

However, the priest's soft deep voice and gentle demeanor only served to remind Beatrice of the terrifying figure that haunted her dreams. Each clap of thunder sent shivers down her spine as if warning her of some impending danger. 

The Devil had not visited her dreams in a while, but the mere thought of his return sent shivers down her spine. Beatrice couldn't help but wonder what would happen to her if she were to come face to face with him again. 

Would she be able to resist his seductive charm, or would she succumb to his will once more? The uncertainty of it all only added to her growing anxiety

"Are you alright, Lady Beatrice?" Gilbert asks, placing a reassuring hand on her arm.

Beatrice looks up at him. "I'm fine," she says shakily. "It's just the storm."

Gilbert nods sympathetically. "Yes, it's quite a storm outside," he says, gesturing to the window where rain was pounding against the glass. 

"Would you like to read the Golden Verses with me?" Gilbert asked, opening the tome and gesturing for Beatrice to sit next to him.

Beatrice's heart was racing as she sat down beside the priest. She could feel the warmth of his body radiating off of him, his deep voice sending shivers down her spine. 

As he leaned in to read the verses with her, she could feel the hot breath from his lips on her neck, sending waves of desire through her body. She tried to steady herself, but couldn't help but feel a lustful urge to lean into him, to feel his body pressed against hers.

Suddenly a bolt of lightning struck outside, illuminating the room for a split second. Beatrice opened her eyes, and at that moment, she saw a glimpse of the Devil standing behind Gilbert, his eyes glowing with an evil gleam. She gasped in terror, trying to run away but Gilbert grabbed her hands. 

"That's him! The Devil!" Beatrice screamed, her heart racing as she struggled to break free from Gilbert's grip. She could feel the sweat on her palms as she trembled in fear, her mind filled with images of the Devil she had seen in her dreams. "Let me go! Please, let me go!"

"Don't be afraid, lady," Gilbert whispered soothingly, his hand gently rubbing her arm. "It was just a trick of the light. The storm can play tricks on our eyes."

Beatrice tried to calm down, but she couldn't shake off the feeling of fear and the memory of the Devil's piercing gaze. She looked back at Gilbert and saw that he was staring at her with concern in his eyes.

"Are you all right, lady?" he asked softly. "You're trembling. Let me help you."

He pulled her into an embrace, and Beatrice felt a surge of desire as she felt his strong arms around her. She could feel her heart racing and her body responding to his touch. Despite her fear, she couldn't deny the attraction she felt toward him.

"Thank you, Gilbert. I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me," Beatrice said, trying to hide her embarrassment.

Gilbert smiled understandingly. "It's alright, Let's continue to read the Golden Verses together."

Beatrice then nodded. Their conversation ended when they read Golden Verses. She was mesmerized by the fluttering of his long eyelashes and the way his brown hair seemed to shine as the light from the fireplace shine upon him. 

The raging storm outside had finally dissipated, and the warm rays of the sun now poured through the window, casting a gentle glow over the room. The sweet melodies of the birds outside echoed in the distance, calming Beatrice's racing heart. 

As she listened to Gilbert's soothing voice, her fear slowly dissipated, replaced by a sense of comfort and security. His voice was like music to Beatrice's ears, soothing and melodious. 

She could feel the vibrations of his voice in her chest, making her heart skip a beat. It was as if he was speaking directly to her, his words piercing through her soul.

His emerald irises were focused on the book in front of him, but every now and then, he would glance up at Beatrice, causing her heart to flutter. But at the same time, she felt conflicted and her mind told her to run away from him.

"You will burn me with your eyes if you keep staring at me like that, Lady Beatrice," said Gilbert, his gaze locked with hers, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips.

As she caught sight of his smile, a fluttering sensation seized her stomach. "I'm sorry, Gilbert," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. "It's just that there's something about you that reminds me of the Devil."

Beatrice couldn't stand the feeling of suspicion and distrust that kept creeping into her thoughts. It was muddling her perception of Gilbert and made her question whether she could truly trust him.

But despite her doubts, she couldn't resist the intense attraction she felt toward him. His low, soft voice, his warm smile, and the gentle way he looked at her made her heart flutter with craving.

She knew she needed to fix her perception of him before her conflicted emotions consumed her and made her crazy. She wanted to trust him. 

Gilbert's emerald eyes widened at Beatrice's statement, his surprise evident on his face. For a moment, he was silent, processing her words before finally asking, "Lady, do you have a preference for male?"

Beatrice was taken aback by the sudden question, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "Excuse me?" she asked, unsure of what he meant.

Gilbert cleared his throat and continued, "Forgive me if I am being too forward, but I couldn't help but notice that the figure of the Devil in your dream bears a striking resemblance to a man of your preference. You see, they can alter their appearance to suit their woman's desires." As he spoke, Gilbert leaned in a little closer, his emerald eyes fixed on hers.

Beatrice's mind raced, trying to process the revelation. It was as if a fog had been lifted from her eyes, and suddenly everything made sense. She couldn't believe she had been so blind before.

As soon as she saw him, a sense of familiarity washed over her, yet an uneasy feeling lingered. It took her a moment to realize why his presence made her uncomfortable - it bore an unsettling resemblance to that of the Devil himself. 

His appearance, with sharp features and piercing gaze, sent shivers down her spine, making him appear all the more frightening. However, as she gazed upon him, she couldn't help but feel a disturbing sense of desire, much like the one that the Devil had sowed in her before.

"Well then, it seems you're my preference," Beatrice replied, her voice laced with seduction as she gazed into Gilbert's emerald eyes. 

She felt a surge of excitement and anticipation course through her body as she made her decision to give in to her desire.

Gilbert's smile widened at her words, his eyes sparkling with amusement. He replied, his voice low and smooth. "I would rather enjoy being the object of your admiration." As he softly gripped her hands.

Beatrice felt her heart skip a beat at the sound of his voice, and she couldn't help but think how wonderful it would be to hear him speak those words to her every day. 

Her maid, Sophie, cleared her throat as a warning to Gilbert to not get too close to Beatrice. In response, Beatrice stood up and returned to her original seat.

"So, you don't have a dream about the Devil anymore right?" he said, his eyes locking onto hers as he closed the book and set it aside.