"Father, I don’t want to play with him."
A little Delia, no older than five, held tightly to her father’s hand as they ca down the grand staircase of the Ellington manor. Duke Julian Carson had co for a visit, bringing his young son, little Eric, with him.
Baron Henry looked down at his daughter, a gentle, reassuring smile on his face. "Now, now, Delia. Eric is a good boy. I am sure you two will beco the very best of friends."
Delia just pouted, her small lip pushed out in a clear sign of her displeasure. They got to the last step of the stairs just as the Duke and his son entered the main hall.
"Your Grace," Henry greeted, bowing his head respectfully. Little Delia, rembering her manners, dipped into a small, perfect curtsy.
Duke Julian, a tall, handso man with a kind face, smiled warmly. "It is fine, Henry. No need for such formality between old friends."
Little Eric, a serious-looking boy with dark, observant eyes, gave his own small bow. "Good day, Baron," he said, his voice polite and clear.
"What a respectful young lad you have, Julian," Henry said with a smile.
"The King has sent to discuss a rather sensitive topic with you," Julian said, his voice dropping low.
"Why don’t we go to the palace, then?" Henry replied, his own expression turning serious.
Julian whispered, a mischievous glint in his eye, "I prefer it this way. At least here, we can discuss these serious matters over a fine glass of wine, no?"
Henry laughed, a deep, hearty sound. "I have always loved the way you think, my friend."
Julian looked up the grand staircase. "And how is the Baroness, and the new child?" he asked.
"Both she and the child are fine, thank you," Henry smiled. He then crouched down to Delia’s small fra. "I have an important eting with His Grace now, my dear, so I will be busy. You can play with Eric here in the house, alright?"
Delia nodded, a little reluctantly.
Henry and Julian then left for the study, leaving the two children alone in the large, silent hall.
Delia imdiately turned and went towards the garden, and Eric, not knowing what else to do, followed a few paces behind her.
"Stop following ," Delia said, turning around abruptly to see him still there.
Eric paused too and replied, his own voice a little shy, "I don’t know where else to go. That is why I am following you."
Delia turned again and continued forward until she got to the large oak tree with the swing. She sat on the smooth wooden seat, but her little feet could not touch the ground to push herself forward. She just sat there, swinging her legs uselessly.
Eric, seeing her struggle, ca up behind her and gave the swing a gentle little push. It moved forward, and a small gasp of surprise and delight escaped Delia’s lips. But he stopped imdiately when she turned her head back and saw him. He retreated a few steps, as if he had been caught doing sothing wrong.
"Could you... could we please play?" she pleaded, her earlier shyness gone, replaced by the simple desire for fun. "Push the swing, like you did the first ti. You do it ten tis, and then I will get down, and you can sit, and I will push you ten tis. We will take turns."
Eric nodded, a small, happy smile on his own face. And so, they started to play, their shyness lting away under the warm afternoon sun.
After Eric had finished his turn, it was Delia’s turn again. On the tenth and final push, he got a little too excited and mistakenly pushed the swing much higher than before. Delia, caught by surprise, let out a small cry as she flew out of the swing, her small body sailing through the air.
Eric quickly went forward, his own small body moving on pure instinct, and broke her fall as she landed right on top of him with a soft thud. They stayed there for a while on the soft grass, a tangled heap of limbs, Eric looking up at her face. Her hair was a ss of unruly dark curls, and her big, blue eyes were wide with a mixture of shock and surprise.
"Delia," he said, his own voice a little breathless. "Your eyes are pretty. They are as blue as the sky in the sumr."
Delia saw that his own cheeks were flushed a bright red. He reached up a small, hesitant hand and gently brushed out a fallen flower petal that had gotten caught in her hair.
"Delia... Delia... Delia..."
"Delia."
The voice, no longer a child’s, but a deep, familiar murmur, pulled her from her dream. Delia woke up, her eyes slowly opening and coming into focus. She saw that she was in the warm, steamy bathing area of her room in Eric’s residence.
"You are finally awake," Eric’s voice said from right beside her ear. "I was calling your na for a while now."
She looked up and saw his dark eyes staring down at hers, with the very sa intense, adoring look he had given her in that mory, a mory she had just unlocked, a mory she never even knew she had.
Eric and I... we have t before? she said to herself, her mind reeling as she looked at him.
She realized then where she was. Eric was sitting in the large, warm bathtub, his back resting against the cool, smooth material. And Delia was sitting on him, her back resting against his bare chest, her head having been nestled right under his chin. His strong arms were wrapped securely around her waist. She must have fallen asleep in his arms a few monts ago after she agreed to Eric’s request for a warm bath together.
"Why are you looking at like that?" he asked, his voice a low, gentle rumble that vibrated through her body.
She replied, her own voice a soft, wondering whisper. "That is a very good question."
She slowly, gracefully, stood up in the warm water, turned to face him, and then sat back down on his lap, her legs on either side of his. She reached up and touched his cheek, her fingers tracing the strong line of his jaw. "I wonder why," she said, her own blue eyes searching his.
Eric looked confused, utterly captivated by her strange, sudden change in deanor. "Are you alright?" he asked, his voice full of a gentle concern. "You are scaring a little..."
But before he could finish, she brought his face to hers and kissed him.
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