His Shivering Touch

4/3/1854

The bright, white moonlight peaked through the multitude of hanging branches of the aged willow tree, illuminating our naked bodies with an almost magical glow. The cold, dew-covered grass surrounded us, almost sparkling in the light as we lay intertwined with one another, making the most of our current short meeting; the last of the 3 this week. 

Oliver Ambrose, the man that was holding me in his strong arms underneath the drooping branches, was the prince of Ravenvale Castle, born of King Rupert and Queen Mary Ambrose. He was the most handsome man I had ever laid eyes on, and I had met him when we were both only 8 years old; now 18, though 19 was but a short couple weeks away for the both of us. 

He's my friend and my lover. 

As we lay facing each other in the wet grass, his piercing red, deep-set eyes were peering lovingly into my icy blue, almond shaped ones. 

Always enamored by his beauty, I instinctively moved my left hand to his face to glide it up across his cold, chiseled jaw; the brown stubble that circled his lips and covered his jaw from ear to ear was tickling the back of my hand as I did so, but I enjoyed it. As the tips of my fingers reached the side of his face highlighted by the moonlight, I gently moved a short section of his dark brown hair that had gotten matted to his cheek with sweat before settling my hand behind his head. 

I tucked my other arm in between our bodies, placing my palm against his brawny chest. He was always so cold, that had his heart not been beating, I would've assumed he were a corpse; Though he was like that since I had met him yet he had never shivered once. 

I was surprised he was healthy sometimes considering everything; even his heart beat was half the time as a normal person, yet he never fainted. 

Despite our passion for each other, we were forced to keep our relationship a secret because, not only was he the prince, heir to the throne, but I, Adeline Weston, have been a long-term resident of poverty; which royal members were forbidden to stoop to. 

He ran his right hand down my body, tracing my hourglass figure before coming to a halt upon my hip. "I won't be able to see you for a couple weeks," he whispered to me, hoping our embrace and the sound of his deep, raspy voice would lessen the devastating blow his words had instantly caused. 

I pulled back from him slightly, using both of my hands to do so just hard enough to cause some of my long, fine blonde hair to fall in front of my face. "What do you mean a few weeks!?" I was beyond shocked. In the decade that we've known each other, we've seen one another nearly every day. 

"It's customary," he began to stand up, separating himself from me fully, as his voice lowered with a deep sadness. "I was hoping you would have been a bit better with the news," he solemnly informed me, offering a hand out to me. 

As I grabbed it, the feeling of his rough hand in mine was reassuring to me; it let me know he was trained to at least protect himself for whatever may come his way. "Where are you going?" I asked as he lifted me to my feet. 

Laying with him made me feel a bit more equal, because when next to each other, his 6-foot frame towered my 5'3 one. 

He bent down, placing the thumb and forefinger of one his hands upon my chin before tilting it up slightly and planting his soft lips upon mine for a quick moment. "There's a distant village under our control that is starting to rebel. My father wants me to take an army and fix the problem now instead of later. I'm nearly of age to be part of the councils." 

Being of age for a prince was 19; the royals get 1 year of adult hood to have fun before stuck under royal duties for the rest of their life. Oliver was only a couple weeks from 19, as was I. 

"Why do you have to fight to prove your worthiness?" I asked, putting my long, light green dress back on with a white apron overtop as he too got himself dressed. 

As he put on his black, ankle laced boots with a short, wide heel after his black trousers, he answered, "it's a tradition of the Ambrose line that the youngest man goes; well, I'm the youngest, and the only." 

I tied my long, blonde hair up, being sure it was free of foliage before fixing my white bonnet back upon my head. "Will you at least return to me?" I was fighting with everything I had in me to not cry. 

He put his tan, long sleeved shirt back on, finishing what he thought was how a lower-classed man dressed. "You don't even have to question that, Adeline. I plan to make you my Queen when I take over as King," he darted at me, picking me up by the waist and twirling me around before bringing me in to kiss me once more. 

"You better, Oliver," I teased as we simultaneously strolled back out of the glade and into the woods towards the northern gate of Ravenvale City. 

"Oh, and why's that?" He pulled me in to his side by my shoulder, giving me a tight squeeze. 

I looked up at the moon, knowing, that while everything was perfect for us now, it was a bad situation overall. If we weren't careful, this could end up in my death and his banishment. 

I looked up at him, and as if he felt me look up, he looked down at me, waiting for my answer with a sly grin. I smiled at him weakly, "I'm pregnant." 

His eyes got wide, and his smile faltered slightly before returning, "huh?" was all he mustered out. 

"I'm pregnant." It felt like a dream to me just the same as him, but the woman I saw to be tested was always right. 

Before he could answer, a city guard came running over the drawbridge towards us, his black, metal armor appearing like its own night sky as the moon reflected off it. The only part of his skin that was showing was his face; even the back of his head was covered by his helmet. 

He had a long burlap cloak hanging over his arm. "As ordered, my prince," the guard bowed as he offered it to Oliver, giving me a slight side glance as he did so. 

"Thank you, sir Gregory," Oliver said sternly, letting his grip of me go to grab the cloak from his guard's hands. "Remember our deal if you dare speak of what you see before you," my prince warned Gregory as he beckoned him to rise and to return to his post. 

The guard did as he was told without a word, even with the threats. 

Oliver and I faced each other. It was time for him to pretend I didn't exist. "I love you," I whispered to him. "Remember why you need to come home safely," I grabbed one of his hands and placed it upon my abdomen to reiterate what I had told him. 

"I will do everything in my power to be sure you and our baby is safe; and always will be." He pulled me in one last time; our last embrace before he goes to battle. "When I come home, I will know the answer as well." He whispered before kissing me softly in the moonlight.