Chapter 5 : Nicholas

Nicholas p.o.v.

“And here I thought you'd be finished by now.”

My head snapped up to see Xenia standing in front of my table. I was in the backyard of our church, trying to make sense of the sustenance budget and failing, basically accomplishing nothing except for checking the numbers again and again and getting worried about the future of our parish.

" I am doing it..", I mumbled, looking up at her, she was wearing another cloak— a cream nightgown under it, and her golden brown hair was glimpsing outside from that hood, that cloak did nothing to hide the perfect pale white of her skin or the soft swells of her breasts.

She was close enough that I could reach out and wrap my arm around her waist, take her hips in my hands and pull her to me; close enough that I could grab her and ruck up her skirt and then bury my face in heaven...STOP, fucking stop right there...my thoughts...they weren't in my control since the day I heard her moaning my name...and this was intensifying more and more every fucking day.

Luckily, she took the chair opposite me before I lost all of my control and broke my vows in front of everyone, in the backyard...in this holy ground of our Church. Help me, I silently prayed inside my mind. Is this some sort of test?

" Let me see..." she asked, canting her head toward the papers.

Before I’d even nodded, she’d already slid the papers over to her side of the table and was scrolling through the documents. A small smile creased the corners of her rosy mouth, making her look seductive and knowing and mischievous all at the same time.

I slide the budget paper towards her, leaning over the table, " We don't have enough food for winter.", I whispered, making sure that nuns and other workers didn't hear this as I didn't want to create any panic situation.

Winter is coming, and this time our condition is worst than the last year. We have barely enough food to feed the children and people inside these walls, we will not be able to provide for others. And when people starved, riots could happen just because of one portion of bread...and there will be nothing I could do to help them.

I did ask the royals, but rich people inside their big castle, the warmth of the hearth and wrapped in their comfortable warm capes, didn't care what is happening outside with the poor. I know it because I've been there...in that ignorant prosperous lifestyle. Thankfully, I am far away from that poisonous vitality but in a time like this, I wish I'd still have that power...at least I could help these people here.

" I can ask the crown, my father will send supply, at least for me..."

" Or he might order you to come back until the winter ends.", I countered making her peer up at me, " I will not go...", she stated glancing up at me before continuing her inspection.

Since the day Xenia came here, she never went back to her castle, not even when the king himself came to take her. A thirteen-year-old kid was sent here, away from her parents until she got married to the French king...so, that's what Xenia is doing. She declared that she won't return until her marriage.

It pained Xenia that her parents just left her like that in the church just because some king ordered them to, so she could be 'worthy' to be a queen. I saw how lost, how scared she was when she came here...for months she cried, thinking that she did something wrong that made her parents send her away, at last, Xenia understood it wasn't she who was in the wrong, it was them.

I smiled, watching Xenia hurriedly ruffling some pages as if she found a treasure or something. For a person, who always complained and threatened that she will run or leave the throne, working this serious is quite strange. Even when Xenia never accepted but she did care about her people. And when we talk about politics or alliance or war, I could see in those feisty blue eyes of hers, they glinted like stars, she liked that power...and it's not just power or gold...or royalty, it's more than that, she wanted her people safe and happy.

Xenia cared enough to think about the ways she could help these people, even after some were bad towards her, still she wanted to help them. Xenia has a pure innocent heart. And I want to protect her heart, forever.

My eyes kept staring at her as she read the documents, and write something...calculate something, I didn't know as my mind wasn't on the sheets. It was on her face, underneath the pale moonlight, her face was glowing like some angel, orange flickering light of candles, glinting on her pale white skin...her rosy lips slightly parted as she was deep in her thoughts, staring at some document.

" It wasn't that bad father...we can still manage to do something.", She mumbled, her eyes still on the sheet, "How about merchants, they definitely have some extra stocks of food. I can surely pull some strings."

" Hmm...", I hummed, honestly I didn't even hear what she said...What is happening to me, why couldn't I behave like before, why couldn't I think about Xenia like my daughter as I used to do...just why.

" Can you give me that sheet?", Xenia asked and I passed all the sheets to her, so lost to say anything.

I breathed a silent thank you to God that she hadn’t noticed—or at least was willing to overlook—my lack of reply, and then another thank you for the very safe topic of the budget and supply as I couldn't imagine what would have I blurted out in front of her as my mind, my thoughts...my tongue, even my fucking body wasn't in my control from the past few days. Whenever I look at Xenia, her breathy voice moaning my name started echoing in my ear.

For almost two weeks, whenever Xenia took a bath, I run to the rooftop or out of that fucking tower— a precaution. In case, she did that again and I really don't want to hear her moans and my name in that throaty, breathless voice of hers...Fuck, I want to...I fucking want to, I want to hear her moans and whimpers. I want to make her scream my name...and that was worse.

" Looks like your age got you, Father Nicholas.", She said, still reading, and ruffling those documents, finding something on them.

" What did you just say?"

Xenia smirked, showing that half-torn sheet to me, " Here, you count these wrong."

I glanced at the paper, noticing that some supplies were calculated wrong, " Oh...", I mumbled, staring back at her mischievous blue eyes, " And I only experienced thirty-three long years...not that old."

" You are just four years younger than my father.", Xenia rasped, looking quite fascinated, " But you don't look like...", she whispered, her eyes roamed over my face to my body, and it made my heart and body thumb for all the wrong reasons, " I mean you look even younger..."

" I am hungry.", I interrupted, not liking where this conversation, her eyes and my mind were going...to all the wrong places.

I am not a good priest, I thought. I was before...I was, one year ago when I hadn't smiled thinking about a woman almost half of my age...I was, even two weak ago until I hadn't touched her soft skin or whispered in her ears...I was, for twelve fucking years...but now, I am not.

And I don't have any fucking idea idea how to fix it...fix this, fix myself.