Chapter 7: I thought you loathe me.

I woke up already placed in a bed in an unfamiliar room. Did we already reach the estate? I thought the travel would take at least twelve hours.

The door swung open as Damien entered, holding what appeared to be a fresh set of clothes. He handed it to me as he slumped unto the bed.

"There is a flood on the route we're supposed to take," he explained, "We're staying here tonight and will continue our journey tomorrow."

"Are we to share a bed?" I asked.

He nodded, pointing at the cold tiled floor, "Or you can sleep on the floor. I'd be happy to have the bed all to myself."

"But why are we sharing the bed chamber?" I asked, "Shouldn't we have separate bedrooms?" I heard it was customary for couples to have their own chambers even after they are wed.

He replied, "Yes, but there aren't enough rooms in the inn that we're in. We'll just have to make the best of it. Why? Do you prefer to sleep in the carriage or in a lower-rate apartment like the rest of our staff?"

"No thank you," I replied, "Where is the bathroom? I wish to bathe before going to bed."

"Through the other door next to where I entered," he pointed, "Shall I join you?"

"Whatever for?" I asked curiously, "Your hair is wet. Haven't you already bathed?" What could he possibly want to do in the bathroom? What a strange man.

He scratched his head, sighing. "Nevermind, Princess," he says, "Don't be long."

I closed the door behind me, placing my clothes on the countertop. The bathroom wasn't as grand as my home's, but I suppose it will do. It had a nice bath with running water. The only problem is that it didn't have a heater. Without my ladies, I'll have to go on an ice-cold bath.

I opened the door to receive a, "Yes?" from Damien. He had his smirk on. "Did you change your mind?"

"I need hot water," I explained, "Do you know where I can get them?"

"They are all asleep," he says, "No one will be able to heat water for you. The water is cold, so you must bathe quickly so that you may not catch a cold." He came over, following me to the bathroom. "You don't have to bathe. I understand that it's freezing."

"I bathe every night before I sleep," I explained.

He chuckled, shaking his head. "You won't get any sleep tonight, Princess," he says, "You slept throughout the whole trip. Why don't we do something fun?"

"Fun?" I asked, filling the tub with water, cinnamon, and vanilla. "I thought we left so soon that we may freely spend time as far away from each other as we can? And you said it's already late at night. There's nothing fun to do here."

He laughed at me, ruffling my hair. "You really are just an innocent girl," he comments, "To think that you're such a fierce warrior..."

I took off my dress, his eyes growing wide in shock. "What are you doing?" he asked in astonishment.

"I will bathe," I explained, pointing at the tub. "Why? Is something the matter?"

He gulped, taking a good look at me. His eyes filled with darkness and sin. He stepped forward, making me take a step back.

"Damien?" I asked, now cornered against the wall.

"For someone so innocent, you sure know how to get a rise from a man," He comments, pressing his thumb against my lips. A gasp escaped my lips, mesmerized by his touch. What was he up to?

He leaned in closer, his other hand turning the water off. "The water's cold," he said, "Bathe quickly or you'll catch a cold." With that said, he left, closing the door behind him.

I clutched my heart, breathing rather heavily. But why? Why did I feel the urge to touch him? To feel him? Why did I want something more? I realized what I wanted to happen. I wanted him to touch me as he did last night. To feel him. This is wrong. I shook the sinful thoughts away in disgust. I shouldn't want him. This act between us must only happen when we intend to create an heir; nothing more.

"Such an idiot," I scolded myself as I got in the bath. The water was freezing cold. I immersed myself in the water, scrubbing myself with the loofa. I felt dirty and disgusted with myself because of the thoughts I had. To think that I find myself attracted to that jackass! Unbelievable! I had to scrub all the dirt away. I have to stay clean.

Three knocks were heard and Damien came after, looking rather concerned. "You're still in the bath?" he questioned, "I told you to be quick. You're going to catch a cold." Before I could reply, he carried me out of the tub, putting me on my feet. Placing a towel over me, he couldn't help but stare. "You're all red," he said, pointing at my skin.

I looked at my skin. He was right. I was all red. I must've scrubbed too hard and failed to notice the time. "Shit," I cussed, touching the burning patch of skin on my arm. I looked at him, slightly embarrassed. "I didn't notice the time."

"You're freezing," he points out, "I cannot have you catching a cold. If you get sick, we won't be able to travel. Such a nuisance."

I glared at him. I am not a nuisance; he is. I don't understand him at all. One minute he's kind, and the next he's a completely different person.

The first time I met him, he was only a boy. In fact, I happen to like him. We were first introduced in an attempt at peace, but that didn't work out. Still, we were told we were to marry one day. I was seven and he was ten years old. He had shorter and curlier hair and was skinny. He was also well-mannered and kind. Though our "play date" was forced, it didn't feel like it. We had genuine fun that day. He was very princely and charming. Even more charming than Jonah. He presented himself with such gentleness and charisma. I still remember how he introduced himself. "Good day to you, Princess. I am Prince Damien of Cross, but you can call me D if you wish," he said and he gently kissed my hand. There was so much warmth in him. Seeing what he's become today, you can't help but wonder what made such a warm boy turn into this dark and frigid man.

He flicked my forehead, making me flinch. "What are you thinking about?" he asked, handing me my clothes. "Get dressed already."

"Fine," I said, shoving him out the door. I put on my nightgown and dried my hair with the towel. The dress is so thin that I'm more than certain that I will catch a cold tonight. Why is it thin, though? My clothes are usually thick and warm. This dress is almost sheer! I groaned, remembering what my mother had told me. A few days before the wedding, she mentioned that she'd change my entire wardrobe to match my new status as a newlywed. I suppose newlyweds wear clothes like these in order to encourage "newlywed" activities.

Entering the room, his eyes landed on me, a little surprised. "Why are you wearing that?" He must be thinking that I'm wearing this to encourage such "activities."

"My mother altered all my clothes without my knowledge," I explained, making my way to the bed. I lay next to him, getting under the blanket. I was freezing.

He furrowed his eyebrows, saying, "Are you sure this isn't some scheme of yours to try to get me to touch you?"

I blushed, punching him in his gut. "How dare you!" I growled, "I actually would prefer it if we didn't engage in such things!"

"Really?" he asked huskily, placing his hand on my thigh. "So you wouldn't like me to touch you here?" he asked, fully aware of what he was doing. He went higher, stopping just before what defines me as a woman. "So, you wouldn't want me to give you pleasure as I did last night?"

I could feel my breath deepening. He knows what he's doing to me. I pushed his hand away, refusing his advances with a straight face. "I don't need it unlike you who goes through brothels quicker than anyone else."

He chuckled, keeping his hands to himself. "But I know you want it, don't you, Princess?" he teased, pushing my stray hair behind my ear. "Fine," he says, laying back on the bed.

"Fine, what?" I asked, pulling the blanket closer to me.

He pulled it back, pulling me closer in the process. "I won't touch you unless you want me to," he said. He shifted to the other side, avoiding my gaze. "Also, I had the chance to go to a brothel, you know?"

"Why didn't you go?" I asked.

Sighing, he replied, "It didn't feel right. We just got married. The people would think so greatly of me because I have such stamina, but then it would reflect poorly on you. They'll say you fail to satisfy my needs, therefore dubbing you a failure."

Why does it work that way, though? People would praise men who go about enjoying the pleasure of the world. But in doing so, they place the wife in such a horrible position. I've seen that happen to many women whose husbands enjoy countless mistresses. It's unfair. The women are deemed infertile or whatever word they can use to insult her and degrade her.

"Why would you do that then?" I asked, "I thought you loathe me. And what you said isn't false."

He turned, facing me. "That's not entirely true," he said, "I do loathe you as much as you loathe me. And if you question if you satisfied me last night, you should know that you did."

I blushed at his statement.

"I will return to my usual habits once we're sure that you're with child," he said, "Until then, I must play the part of a "loyal and loving" husband." He flicked my forehead once more, saying, "What are you thinking in that thick head of yours?"

"You may be sick," I blurted, "You're kind and then unkind. You're warm and then cold. You change your mood so frequently that I cannot keep count." Perhaps it came out ruder than I intended and had completely pissed him off. He pinched my nose so hard that it turned red. "Ouch!" I exclaimed, hitting him back. "Whatever was that for?"

"You're annoying," he said, "I honestly don't know how you became the pick of this year's harvest. I see that you're not ugly, but you act so casually like a man. Your intelligence isn't that high either."

He belittles me. I can accept that. When the time comes, he won't know what's coming to him. He forgets that underestimating me was exactly what gave me my victory over him in the battle of Whitefields.

"Do you remember the day we first met?" I asked.

He thought for a moment and said, "The battlefield? I didn't expect you to be there."

"That's the second time we met," I said, "The first time was at the Treaty of Polaris. We were children."

"Ah," he nods, "I was but a boy. I recall you were quite the princess then."

"And you were the charming prince," I say, "What turned you into this arrogant ass? Since you said that I won't be able to sleep tonight, tell me your tale."

He groaned getting off the bed. He went to the table, pouring us each a glass of wine. He then returned to our bed, handing me my cup. "Just drink up and fall asleep," he said, sipping on his. I looked into his cold blue eyes. He seemed quite disinterested in the topic.

I sipped on mine. It tasted nothing like wine. "What is this?" I asked, sniffing the cup.

"It's whiskey," he replied, "That should help you keep warm and sleep. We leave tomorrow after breakfast. It would take about four hours before we get to the estate, I estimate. Four hours in a carriage is an awful long time with nothing to do."

Sippin on my cup, I said, "Isn't that how I came to fall asleep in the first place?"

"Then we can do something fun in the carriage," he suggests, "Something that may please both of us." Seeing the look of lust in his eyes, I could already assume what he had in mind. I will not entertain such acts, especially not in a carriage of all places.

"I will not have sex with you in the carriage," I said plainly, earning hysterical laughs from him.

"Oh, I'm sorry," he said in between laughs, "I wasn't referring to that." I immediately felt embarrassed. I was certain he was referring to having sex in the vehicle. I once heard gossip about him doing it in the carriage with Lady Helena of House Trust.

"Go to sleep, Princess," he says, taking the empty cup from my hands. "Tomorrow's going to be a long day."