The King sat Iris down on the balcony railing, placing one behind her back and the other on the cold tal railing. It was wide enough for Iris to sit on, but the King made a safety bar on her back with his arms, bringing their bodies closer together.
“You don’t like people’s eyes, but are you okay with heights?” he asked.
Iris used to have a room at the top of the tower and was often scolded by her teacher for sitting with her legs dangling out of the open window. But she just nodded because such a story couldn’t be said.
“Why don’t you like people’s eyes?” Sidrain probed further.
“It’s just…” she couldn’t find the right words.
Rosemary had been a woman who loved people’s eyes, but Sidrain didn’t bother to say that. Rosemary was dead. She was no longer in the picture, and now his Queen was Iris. Sidrain kept quiet. Even though they had the sa blonde hair, Iris’s hair was as sweet as honey. Even though they had the sa blue eyes, Iris’s blue eyes were clean and lovely. Even with the sa lips, goodness, hers were tempting. He’d give her anything if he could covet those lips right now.
The features that he considered to be awful in Rosemary, were now lovely. It was strange, but on the other hand, it was natural. How could they be the sa, when their movents, speech, and facial expressions were completely different? The sa tree could be seen as firewood or viewed as artwork. That would depend on the perspective of the person looking at it.
“Did soone bother my lady?” Sidrain asked.
Iris recalled her awful childhood, reluctantly. Elaine had been the only one who’d been kind to her, so she’d only followed him. The older she got, the more she knew that not everyone was unkind, but she still hated people regardless.
“No,” Iris said no automatically and it was too late to take back what she’d said.
Sidrain kissed her on the cheek and whispered, “Who was that man? Do I know him?”
“No, not really,” said Iris.
“Do you want to say no?”
“No, that’s not it.”
“I can’t get rid of the idea that my girl was bullied by soone and that’s why she hates people.”
Iris looked up at his words. She seed to be confused. He was unpredictable and scary at tis and she didn’t know why Sidrain was nice to her.
Looking at her sweet face, Sidrain was annoyed by his recklessness at the age of sixteen. She would’ve opened the door if she had told him that she wasn’t scared to take so sweet snacks, and he could’ve lured her out. It was a pity.
“But I’ll believe it if you tell you’ve never been bullied. I’m your husband.” Sidrain smiled and closed his eyes. “Kiss your husband, my Queen. Then I’ll believe you.”
Iris looked at him submissively. Sidrain thought he’d never do sothing, like breaking down a door when he was sixteen, again. With sweet snacks, he’d lure her out, in the na of her husband this ti. He waited in anticipation with his eyes closed. Slowly, he felt her breath approaching.
***
Iris looked at the King’s face, with his closed eyes, silently. It resembled a sculpture. She didn’t an like the idiom “handso,” but he had a statue-like look. He had no flaws but she thought he’d look like a plaster statue if she painted him with flour. Her face was close enough to know that he was breathing and he waited patiently for a kiss from Iris, with a gentle smile.
She approached slowly. Her lips trembled because it was her first ti kissing soone other than her teacher. Her kiss made a wet smooching sound on the King’s cheek, but he didn’t budge. She had just kissed her husband on the cheek. Wouldn’t it be natural to at least kiss him on the lips? Even if it wasn’t a deep kiss? He was her husband by law. But no matter how long he waited, nothing happened, and when he opened his eyes, Iris saw his face.
“My Queen, what is it?” Sidrain asked as if he couldn’t believe it. “Don’t tell you want to claim this as a kiss?”
“You told to kiss you, didn’t you?”
“Yes, I asked for a kiss.” By Sidrain’s standards, this was a greeting, not a kiss. Then it dawned on him that Iris must think that this is how people kissed, by putting their lips on soone’s cheek.
In so cases, people’s lips t, but Iris thought it couldn’t happen to her in her lifeti. She’d had a thousand kisses before but only from her teacher and her father. Elaine, the soon-to-be sixty-year-old man, had only been kissed on the cheek by her, of course. So in her world, a kiss was on the cheek.
“This is not a kiss ant for a husband,” Sidrain said as he burst into laughter.
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