Chapter 21: Nicholas

Nicholas p.o.v.

As I entered the ground of our holy church, I hastily stepped back, I shouldn't go inside, not when I am still fucking aroused, not when the feeling of Xenia’s wet heat still pressed down on me. So, I turned around and walked inside the rectory instead, there was a separate room for priests too.

Going inside that small cabin, I lit all of the candles, not liking that darkness, not liking how my mind still thinking about her or how a sickening part of my brain still wanted her, here, in this darkness with me, under me. Fuck, I could even smell her seductive scent all over my body. I need to bathe, I need to wash this all...as if it will wash my guilt but still, I needed to do something, anything before I fucked my hand thinking about her, thinking about Xenia of all fucking people.

If only this shame and disgusting feeling could stop my erection too, but here it was still hard as fuck.

I’d taken bathe for hours, scrubbing myself to the point of pain, but nothing could erase the feeling of her skin on mine, the feeling of warmth splattering on my stomach as she watched me with greedy, feral eyes while my fingers thrust inside her...and god that taste, nothing could wipe that sweet heavenly taste from my tongue, And her touch, her smell or her breath from my skin. And yes, that image...that image of her soft delicate body, laying helplessly over the desk with her legs spread for me and her drenched cunt, bare only for me to devour.

Stop it.

I am fucking doomed, and nothing could help me now, not even this cold bathe.

I couldn't sleep as I laid on that small bed of rectory, not for a minute, so I stayed up late reading the Bible, perusing every passage about sin that exist until my exhausted eyes withheld to focus on the words any longer, and all I could see was a blur. Finally, I crawled into my bed with my cross sheathe around my palm and Xenia's cross, mumbling prayers until I drifted off into a restless sleep.

By the time I came back, it was already dawn, soft orangish glow shrouded the sleek golden pillar of our church. Much to my dismay, the chapel was empty. The townspeople weren’t gathered in the narthex, ready to throw stones at me or banish me. I’d gotten away with it. I'd gotten away with my depravity.

And somehow that made me feel worse.

A strange kind of numbness settled over me as I said Mass that morning, she was also there, with Sister Marina; her only friend. Xenia was sitting in the last row, in an ice-blue silk gown under that white cloak, her hair over her shoulders, peeking outside from that hood. She looked prudish, composed, adequate…except for that fucking lipstick, deep red and begging to be smudged, since when she started applying lipstick! I looked away as soon as our eyes met, trying to recapture that holy sense of peace I’d been given last night after reading those sacred words.

That numbness didn't go away, not even when I comforted my penitents, not even when I distributed the food or helped the poor, not even when I wore my armour afterwards; those things used to gratify me but not today. Maybe it was the lack of sleep or food, maybe it was emotional weariness, maybe was simply the tremor of yesterday carrying over into today. But I didn’t want numb—I wanted peace.

“Something’s bothering you,”

Ronald's voice made me look up from my sword, yellow dusky light glinting over his deep brown skin, wind ruffling over his long black curls as his gentle brown eyes flickered worriedly at my face and I smiled, " No, nothing." I murmured, trying my best to look normal but he just looked at me that way, I could tell my fake smile hadn't convinced him.

" You didn't look fine.", he pressed more," Do you want to eat something, you hadn't even gone for lunch."

I groaned, " Fine, make something for me", I replied and sighed in relief when he went inside the rectory because I knew if Ronald stayed longer he would have definitely guessed something was wrong...everything was wrong.

When I came here he was the first person who talked to me like a human, not like some former Duke of an enemy country. He made me feel at home here and I could consider him as the closest thing to my brother or friend. People often get irritated by his jolly personality but I liked him...liked it when he paid attention to my emotions and took care when I get sick or even missed my home.

Except for today, I felt unworthy of his care, I felt unworthy of everything—this Church, this duty, this town—and I just wanted to sit here at this backyard table until I died.

Or, I wanted to do something— ride or run or practice the sword until my hands bled—I wanted penance. Absurd, how many times I had counselled my penitents about the real nature of penance, the real strength of God’s unconditional love and forgiveness, and my first reaction to sinning with Xenia was to punish myself.

Or at the very least, deplete myself so that I couldn’t think actual thoughts anymore. And that's exactly what I did after eating just half a bowl of vegetable soup, just because Ronald made that for me and I didn't want to make him sad...In reality, I somehow swallowed it, not because it wasn't tasty, it was delicious but because I couldn't even eat anymore as if the food was choking me from inside.

Finally, when Ronald left after threatening me that he will tell Xenia about my lack of eating, I started fencing, using the backyard of the rectory instead of our rooftop to avoid Xenia, I practised more than I normally did, pushing myself harder, swinging my sword until my hands strangled and my breath shrieked in and out of my chest.

With every harsh strike of my sword, I slashed the wind as if I was slashing my thoughts, crushing that urge to go and see Xenia, I never left her alone for this long...for an entire day! But how could I face her, all Xenia wanted was an innocent kiss, I could have given her a gentle peck on her lips and she would have even satisfied with that but no, I had to be an animal, I had fuck her with my fingers like a man possessed...I strike my sword as harder as I could while thinking about last night, my muscles pained to the point that I could feel every vein tightened under my skin.

Honestly, I myself had no fucking idea what possessed me last night, I was filled with rage and jealousy, jealousy over King Aldrich that he will come and take Xenia away from me while I could do nothing. And then, she stood up there practically nacked, how much a man could take! I forgot everything, I forgot she was that same Xenia, and I shouldn't do that, I shouldn't touch her not just because of my vows but because of who she is...my daughter.

And perversely, the fact that I shouldn't, that it was wrong in every single aspect—moral, professional, personal—made it even hotter. It made that all, that feeling of it, a single raw sense of madness until I was mindlessly rutting against her, sucking and nibbling at her as if I could burn out this need by consuming every inch of her flesh.

I sighed stopping and resting my palm on my knees, bending a little as I stared at the ground, sweat dripping down from my forehand to that fresh green grass. Jesus... I am again dreaming about her, dreaming about those disgusting things I had done with her.

I rubbed my face vigorously, straightening up. Wake the fuck up, Nicholas, and figure this out. It had only been a couple of hours, and I’d entirely fucked at keeping my shit together. What would I do for the next two weeks? The next two months? I couldn't ignore Xenia always, I didn't want to, she was not some random girl I could just leave like that, Xenia was my daughter too and she was here to stay and so was I, but there was no way I could let what happened last night happen again. And there was no way I could report myself to Pope either, I took that decision last night with a calm mind. I will not confess at least not yet, not until Xenia got her coronation and got married, I couldn't leave her in the middle of this cruelty and even after that, I'll tell them I had broken my vows with someone else because no matter what, I couldn't involve Xenia in this.

Taking a deep breath, I again started my training, this time with even more force, harsher and faster, cutting those bamboo blocks with all the power I had in me. I kept punishing my body to act that way around her, every time Xenia's face came in front of my eyes I swung that iron sword to the point that my muscle clenched and my body anguished but even after that pain, her thoughts came back...even more, intense than before. Why couldn't I just stop thinking about her, stop craving her...stop fucking missing her.

I stopped when the backyard darkened as the dark clouds covered the moonlight and my eyes couldn't see anymore even with all those candle lights. My body reeked of sweat mixed with my rose essence, smelling more uglier than usual. I removed my armour and decided to return and take bath...obviously not in the tower, I am not ready to face her yet, Perhaps, Xenia didn't want to see my face anyway, not after how I ran away like that.

But instead of going straight to my bathe, I stopped for a second and strumbled inside the church instead, my hands weaved above my head, my ribs shredding themselves apart with pain. It was dark and empty inside the church, just the sound of cold wind hitting the windows, some candles glinting over the wall and I didn’t know what I was doing there instead of my rectory, I just wanted peace in all this madness and insanity.

My legs and shoulder trembled before I stumbled into the chapel and collapsed onto my knees in front of the shrine. My head was dangling, my palm rested over the wooden floor, sweat, on every inch of my skin, but I didn’t care, couldn’t care, and I couldn’t realise at which moment my ragged breathing turned into sobs, but it was not long after I leaned over the altar, and those tears stirred with the sweat until I wasn’t sure which was which.

The moonlight poured through the large dusty glass, illuminating the entire dark church with weird-bright shapes flooding and sprawling over the porch and my body and to the golden walls glinted in darker shades, esoteric and sacred, prohibiting and holy. And then, I felt that again, that unimaginable amount of calmness, solace...peace.

And at that point, I knew I had to ask for forgiveness, I had to confess and I had to let it all out. I kneeled forward until my forehead pressed against the altar, until I could feel my eyelashes blinking against the cold wooden floor. I knew, that we don’t have to put words to our prayers, but still, I couldn't stop my lips from whispering Forgive me, forgive me, forgive me like a psalm, like a mantra, like a chorus without music.

Suddenly, my naked back prickled with awareness and I sat up, flushed with embarrassment that a parishioner or a staff member had seen me crying like this, but then I felt that familiar soft touch over my shoulder and my entire body shuddered...Samara.