The Kiss

Fiona gently pushed open the door to Dimitri's room, the scent of peppermint and eucalyptus hanging heavy in the air. She balanced a tray laden with steaming hot soup and a collection of vials filled with brightly colored liquids. "Good morning, Mr. Dimitri," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. Her eyes scanned the room, taking in the rumpled bedsheets, the discarded books, the lingering scent of illness.

Dimitri had caught a cold, a rare vulnerability for a man who usually exuded strength and vitality. Since it was the Sun Holiday, he had allowed most of his maids to return home to their families, their laughter and chatter echoing through the empty halls. Only Mrs. G remained, her loyalty unwavering, her presence a comforting constant. Dimitri was her only family.

She placed the tray on the center table, her fingers lingering on the smooth mahogany surface. As she walked towards the bed, her heart pounded a nervous rhythm against her ribs. 

She hadn't been alone with him since that night at the ball, the memory of the king's words a bitter taste in her mouth. But with no one else around, she knew she had to take care of him.

She placed her hand on his forehead, her fingers sinking into the damp skin. Her eyes widened in alarm. "You're burning up," she gasped, her voice laced with concern.

"Where's Mrs. G?" Dimitri mumbled, his voice weak and raspy.

"She went to the market," Fiona whispered, afraid that speaking too loudly would hurt his head. "I'll take care of you."

She filled a bowl with cool water, the porcelain cold against her skin. She soaked a towel, wrung it out, and gently placed it on his forehead, the coolness a welcome relief against his burning skin. 

She repeated the process, her movements efficient and practiced, her anxiety momentarily forgotten in the face of his vulnerability. As she monitored his temperature, a wave of tenderness washed over her. 

She had always seen him as strong and bold, a force to be reckoned with. But now, seeing him pale and weak, his usual vitality dimmed, her heart ached with a strange protectiveness.

"You should eat something, please," she urged, her voice thick with emotion.

Dimitri nodded weakly, and she helped him sit upright, his body heavy against hers. She propped him up with pillows, tucked a blanket around him, her fingers lingering on the soft wool. 

She sat beside him, holding a bowl of steaming chicken soup, the aroma filling the air with a comforting warmth.

She scooped up a spoonful of soup and brought it to his lips. "Say 'ah'," she encouraged, her voice soft and coaxing.

He smiled weakly, his eyes fluttering open. "Ah," he echoed, his voice a raspy whisper.

As she fed him, the only sound in the room was the soft clinking of the spoon against the bowl and the gentle rhythm of their breathing. Fiona's cheeks flushed, a warmth spreading through her that had nothing to do with the fevered air. 

When he had eaten half the soup, she insisted he drink some water, her hand hovering near his lips as he swallowed. She was about to rise when he reached for her hand, his grip surprisingly strong.

"Please… stay with me for a little while," he rasped, his eyes pleading.

Fiona's cheeks burned, a blush creeping up her neck. She nodded, her heart pounding in her chest.

"How do you feel?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. She wondered what she expected his answer to be. 

"Better now that you're here," he murmured, his gaze locked with hers.

He opened his palm, inviting her to hold his hand. She hesitated for a moment, then placed her hand in his, her fingers intertwining with his. His thumb caressed her skin, sending shivers down her spine.

"Thank you for taking care of me," he whispered, his voice husky with emotion.

"Of course," she replied, her voice barely audible. "It's the least I can do."

He smiled, a genuine smile that lit up his face, chasing away the shadows of illness. "I'm sorry I wasn't honest with you."

"I'm sorry I freaked out on you," she whispered back, her gaze dropping to their intertwined hands.

Dimitri shifted closer, his eyes searching hers. Fiona felt her heart pounding, her breath catching in her throat. 

She knew what was coming, but she didn't resist. He cupped her cheek, his touch gentle and reassuring.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down her spine. 

Before she could react, he pressed his lips to hers, giving her a gentle, sweet kiss. He tugged at her lips briefly before releasing them. He looked into her eyes; she was clearly shocked and flustered.

Fiona's mind reeled, her senses overwhelmed. She couldn't speak, couldn't even breathe. She simply stared at him, her eyes wide with surprise and a burgeoning sense of wonder.

Dimitri smiled softly, then lay back on the bed, his eyes fluttering closed. He drifted off to sleep, his breathing slow and even.

Fiona sat there, frozen in place, her fingers tracing the outline of her lips. She watched him sleep, his face relaxed and peaceful, a stark contrast to the turmoil raging within her. 

She knew she shouldn't but she couldn't deny the flutter in her chest, the warmth spreading through her, the undeniable attraction that pulled her towards him. 

Fiona woke to the warmth of Dimitri's arms wrapped around her, his body a comforting weight against hers. She stared at his sleeping face, his features relaxed and peaceful, the memory of the kiss flooding back, a mix of sweetness and confusion. 

What did it mean? Did he really like her? Would he even remember the kiss? He had been sick, delirious perhaps. She decided to pretend it never happened.

She gently disentangled herself from his embrace, her movements careful not to wake him. She tidied the room, her fingers lingering on his discarded books, the scent of his cologne clinging to the air. 

As she left the room, she couldn't help but glance back at him, a flicker of longing in her eyes.

Mrs. G, ever perceptive, noticed Fiona's exhaustion and offered to take care of Dimitri for the day. "I'm sorry you had to go through that," she said, her voice filled with sympathy.

Fiona smiled weakly, her thoughts drifting back to the kiss, the warmth of his touch, the confusion swirling within her. If only she knew what else had happened yesterday.

Later that evening, restlessness gnawed at Fiona. With Miss Rose away, she had a whole week of free time, a week stretching before her like an empty canvas. She decided to take a walk, eager to experience the Sun Festival, to lose herself in the vibrant energy of the city.

Miss Rose had taught her about the festival, the legend of the Goddess of the Sun who had blessed the land with sunlight after years of darkness. 

Fiona had never celebrated the Sun Festival back home; their traditions were simpler, focused on the cycles of life and death, the turning of the seasons.

Mrs. G had told her about the best spots to enjoy the celebrations, her eyes twinkling with a hint of mischief. Fiona couldn't wait to explore, to escape the confines of the mansion and the weight of her secrets.

She donned a pretty yellow sundress that Dimitri had bought for her, the fabric light and airy against her skin. She added a large sun hat and glasses, a disguise to ensure no one recognized her. 

As she stepped out into the bustling streets, the warm sun on her skin, the sounds of laughter and music filling the air, a sense of freedom washed over her.

The market was a riot of colors and sounds, a feast for the senses. Vendors hawked their wares, their voices a symphony of pitches and accents. 

"Miss, buy this!" "Beautiful pearls, fit for a princess!" "A ring for your pretty fingers!" The smell of exotic spices mingled with the sweet scent of fresh pastries, creating a heady aroma that made Fiona's stomach rumble.

She wandered through the stalls, her eyes wide with wonder. She had some allowance that Dimitri had given her and the other maids through Mrs. G. 

She decided to buy souvenirs for Mrs. G and Dimitri, a small gesture of gratitude for their kindness.

As she browsed, her eyes landed on a beautiful sun globe, its intricate details capturing the essence of the festival. 

She reached for it, her fingers brushing against the cool glass. But another hand reached for it at the same time, a playful tug-of-war ensuing.

"I'm sorry, I asked for it first," Fiona said, her voice laced with amusement.

"Well, I asked louder," the man replied, his voice a deep baritone that sent a shiver down her spine. 

He was around Dimitri's age, with kind eyes peering through round spectacles and a long coat that hinted at an air of sophistication.

"Excuse me? That doesn't count," she retorted, folding her arms, a playful glint in her eyes.

"Of course it does."

"No, it doesn't."

"Yes, it does."

"Um, excuse me..." the shop attendant interrupted, his voice timid.

"What?!" Fiona and the mysterious man exclaimed in unison, their playful banter momentarily forgotten.

"We have five more of the exact globe," the attendant replied, his eyes wide with apprehension.

Fiona and the man exchanged nervous chuckles, their cheeks flushing with embarrassment. They each paid for a globe and hurried away from the shop, their laughter echoing in the bustling marketplace.

"You sure have some fiery spirit inside you," the man complimented, his eyes twinkling with amusement. Fiona's mind flashed back to Dimitri's words during their dance.

"You have no idea," she replied with a laugh.

"I'm Er... Michael," he said, extending his hand. Fiona smiled as she took it, her fingers brushing against his warm skin.

"I'm Fi... Fifi," she stammered, her cheeks flushing.

"Nice to meet you, Fifi. Hope to see you again," he said with a wide smile, his eyes sparkling with genuine warmth.

"Yeah... me too," she replied, her heart pounding in her chest. As she watched him walk away, she couldn't help but notice the way his smile mirrored Dimitri's, the same playful glint in his eyes. 

Could that be Prince Eric? She shook her head, dismissing the thought. No, it couldn't be. Prince Eric wouldn't be wandering through a crowded market, buying trinkets.

She tucked the sun globe into her bag, the encounter leaving her with a strange mix of excitement and apprehension.