Chapter 6: Nicholas

Nicholas p.o.v.

Xenia blinked, noticing my sudden change of topic, " Then we should go,", she retorted," I already cooked your favourite soup."

I smiled, it didn't take me long to pick up all the scattered documents from the table as I could already feel the delicious taste of the perfect sliced vegetables with herbs on my tongue. Normally, I cooked for myself and Xenia. But sometimes when she is in the mood for cooking, she did. And that day, I eat like a barbarian...I am not bragging but her hands literally have magic.

She raised her brow when I gave her all the sustenance budget documents, leaning over the wooden chair, I smirked as Xenia tilted her head like some bird, confusingly glancing between me and the pile of documents those I settled in front of her, " And you will do this work...", I ordered, trying to hold back my laughter as her blue eyes went wide like someone just threw a bucket of cold water at her.

" Why..."

" Because you didn't come for training yesterday...", I countered, " it's your punishment."

It wasn't a punishment through, Xenia is better at calculation so I needed her help, not going to tell her that, as after this, she will never skip her training. I am thinking about locking her in the tower at night with some kids dressed up as ghouls, it's a cruel thing for a priest to do but I am doing this as her father...because Xenia needed to learn how to use her fighting skills and the one thing she is afraid the most are ghosts. I will be there to make sure no one gets hurt, I just needed Xenia to do something rather than closing her eyes after sensing a threat.

If Xenia keeps behaving like this, she will not survive a single day in France...And one day, she have to go there, and like always I could do nothing to stop that.

Xenia rolled her eyes at me but picked up the documents anyway, " It's because I couldn't sleep that night...Sister Lagartha's words were coming back and forth like some insect slithering inside my mind."

Guilt washed over me, remembering how I refused to listen to her. I'd never done that, I'd never let any penitent go without consoling. I knew how it feels like leaving a god's place without any comfort as if there were literally no one in the world who loved you...or cared about you. I shouldn't have done that, I shouldn't have let Xenia go from that confession room that day...but if I heard her, god knows what sin I'd committed after that...or right there in that booth.

" Do you want to talk about that?", I whispered softly, looking into those bright sad eyes. I wanted to help her, whatever was there which was bothering her, I wanted to take that pain away, not because I felt something towards her...but because she was in pain, and like any other god's child I will help her, I needed to. I couldn't let this temptation get in the way. I have to try harder to feel nothing while hearing about her carnal desires.

Please let me help her...give me the strength to overcome this temptation and became the father I was before, I silently prayed inside my mind but then, Xenia smiled...her blue eyes gleamed at me, lips slightly tugged upward, showing her two little teeth, which glinted at the orange flickering light as her golden brown hair were glimmering like a dusky dark sunset...She licked her dry lips and I forgot what I was even praying for.

" No...no, it's alright now.", She assured, looking down at her hand on the table, still with that same sad eyes, " It's just sometimes you...you know something is wrong, but you do it anyway, keep doing it until you realised you have to stop but it's already too late to stop because you get too drowned on that thing...or person."

" I don't know if I am even worthy of that person's love...or he even loves me back, what if everything was just my ingenuity and nothing was real..."

I put my hand on her wrist... a pure instinct, to soothe someone who was suffering, but I hadn’t reckoned on the heat rippling up from her hand, on the way that my touch would send shudders crawling up her arm. I had never imagine how perfect her subtle wrist would feel with my fingers wrapped around it as if God had made it for the lone purpose of me holding it. Or maybe I had...maybe I had imagined this exact same thing countless times before...but now when it's here, the shivers and sighs...and the wave of uncontrollable need to touch her more...I can't.

I should let go. I should repent.

But I couldn’t. And I couldn’t stop myself from saying, “Maybe the person you love doesn't deserve you, or maybe he is the wrong person for you.”

Because who wouldn’t love this beautiful soul? This strong, kind woman who emitted intelligence and sensuality? This woman of white soft skin and red rosy lips and a brain built to rule the empires? Of course, this might be about that French king Aldrich, the person Xenia was betrothed to. They just met twice and that arrogant king didn't even write a single letter to her. Maybe she was sad because of that, and it made her seek comfort in me?

Xenia met my gaze again. “Maybe you’re right,” she whispered.

We stayed like that for a moment, our eyes locked, my hand grasping her wrist, and the—I slowly ran my thumb on her wrist..just above her pulse point, feeling her soft smooth skin, a motion that nobody could see, but that Xenia definitely felt because she took in a shuddering breath.

Fuck, she was so soft, her skin so silky. I wanted to kiss her skin, press my lips against her vein, right before I tied her with my belt. In fact, I got as far as gliding my fingers on her skin before the loud resonance of the church bell brought me back to my senses.

What the fuck was I doing?

I let go of her hand and picked up the letters, standing abruptly. “Forgive me. taking about this to your father might be uncomfortable.”

“No, I could never feel uncomfortable with you,” she said, peering up at me. “ And you’re not really my father, you remember that right?”

I was too busy pushing my stuff into my satchel to answer, desperate to leave, trying to persuade myself that it was okay, it was fine, I had just comforted her, I had basically done nothing more than hold her hand, which I might have done several times before. It was simply a fatherly touch.

It was fine.

But when I turned around, and Xenia also stood up with her own documents all packed up. “Can I walk with you back to our home?” she asked. “ I already help others to clean the church and prepare for mass. We could dinner together. ”

Of course, we could.

“Sure,” I said, hoping I sounded normal and not like a priest trying to restrain an erection in public. “Let's go.”

We stepped out from the warmth of the fire into the cold breeze, crossing the rose garden and narrow streets, we finally entered our tower. After taking baths, we promptly had dinner and stood up to go to our separate rooms, this whole time— we didn't utter a single word to each other.

We were standing in front of our office, just near the stairs, both, staring at each other, waiting for the other to speak. The silence between us felt odd, laden with whatever strange moment had just happened in the backyard, and so I spoke, trying to repel the fantasies that continued to crowd at the edge of my mind.

“ You will work all night?” It was an excuse. I knew it was, but I couldn’t help it. I needed just one more glimpse of those red lips, one more word in that breathy voice before I go and sleep...as if seeing her face, listening to her voice became like my night prayers.

“Well, if you need any help, I can help after some rest…”

Shit. Why did I offer that? As if being alone with her, all night in the same room, was a great thing for me to do.

I was just going to deny but then her face lit up and my stomach constricted at the sensation. Because Xenia was beautiful all the time, but smiling? Smiling, she was fucking glorious.

“That would be amazing,” she said. “ We need to complete this by tomorrow and then I have to talk to merchants too, we could split up the work...yes, I will definitely need help, I will not do this alone all night with these looming ghosts in this tower, anyway."

“Okay,” I said, still captivated by her smile and her suddenly lively eyes, "You start the work, I will join you.”

She leaned forward, pushing up on her toes, and I had no idea what she was doing until I felt her soft lips press against my jaw. I froze every fragment, every sensation engraving itself into my skin...to my soul, imprinting itself while she imprinted my skin with her rosy lips.

“Thank you,” she murmured, her words and her breath near my neck, and then she bit her lip and turned away, walking towards the office.

And I went upstairs for another twenty-minute of bathe...this time with chilled cold water.