Religion's in your lips even if it's a false god

The last month had been a whirlwind. He should have known that magic always had a price. One moment he had been the luckiest man alive, and the next it had been downhill. And he had never spoken to the princess since, only watched her from a distance as the ground was kicked beneath her feet. It was never meant for them to last. Just one night where he had let himself go to far. And the month after that had been clouded by black clothing and a gruesome trial. He had done his civil duty. And then, life just moved on. He had work to do and no parties left to attend. Just elbow grease and honest work.

Until he had gotten a letter with the royal sigil. He was asked to design an orphanage, all paid for by the Royal family and in the name of the crown princess. He had been a bit flabbergasted by the offer - which of course he had taken. But he could not decide if this was mere coincidence, or it was the princess' doing. He had worked for the king before and his brother had maybe a tiny bit of influence. However, it was a great opportunity and he had gone to work immediately.

With the first sketches of his plans after visiting the lot a few times, he had returned to the castle. He had been assigned to a room and he had rolled out the pieces of thin parchment on the drawing table. And while he was waiting, he was already adding and editing certain parts of his plans. He was in silent focus as he heard footsteps approaching, and while he ended the final streak of his line, he looked up from his plans and saw nobody else than the princess herself.

Lloyd was stunned for words. He had not thought he would work with the princess directly. So he narrowed his eyes for a mere second, and then stood up straight. ‘‘Princess, what an honor,’’ he spoke respectfully, but plainly. Somebody he felt caught, if he was not supposed to be here. What had happened between them, it should not have. And now, it was just unprofessional. But whenever he looked at her, how could he not remember that night.

harmcore

Lloyd may have been too optimistic to think that he would just meet some boring minister. It was a sound prediction: it may be the king - or princess, in this matter - spending money, it was always someone beneath him to see over the matters. But at soon as he saw the beautiful portrayal of the princess entering the room, he knew this meeting would take a whole other turn. It was almost cruel to let them meet in this way again. This was no party. This was business. He could never look at her the same way like he did before. He could never touch her like the way he did that night.

Lloyd nodded politely as the princess uttered his name. He glanced over to the guard, being very aware if the man was being suspicious or not. But he seemed fine, as he left the two of them alone in the same room. By Ranaan, it would have been so much easier if they would have been accompanied with somebody else. But he knew the guard would be waiting on the opposite side of the door. Lloyd just kept his gaze fixed on her. And it was impossible to not remember the way her hands felt on his body.

Lloyd wished she just stared on the other side of the drawing table. But the princess walked over to him as she started to speak. He kept his blue eyes fixed on her as she moved closer. Lloyd rolled the pencil in his hands nervously between his thumb and index-finger. The architect raised his eyebrows slightly, and then made a small bow as the princess complimented him. ‘‘You flatter me, princess,’’ he uttered softly. His eyes fluttered from between her eyes, and the plans he had drawn out on the table. He cleared his throat as he stood up a bit taller. The tension was very tangible. but he remained professional, for the time being. ‘‘I have drawn out your ideas,’’ he started with a sot voice. ‘‘I prioritized function over beauty, if you don't mind.’’ He looked back up at the princess as he had to focus on the soft curve of her face. He quickly glances at her lips, before he looked back at the blueprint at flattened the papers with his hands.

Only silly things went through his mind at this point. If he knew he would be meeting the princess, would he have prepared better? Would he had not grown annoyed when he had to travel to the castle, even if it was an absolute honour to be invited here. Would he have known what to say or do when she entered the room, instead of just stop and stare. Lloyd's blue eyes were glued to the woman, before he forced himself to look at his drawings.

His hands remained on the table as he now stood leaning forward. The drawings were still quite rough, mostly focused on how the walls would be placed and where he planned windows, doors and stairs to be. It maybe didn't make sense for somebody who was unfamiliar with this craft. But he had also drawn a quick sketch of how he pictured the building from the outside, but it laid on the bottom of the pile.

Lloyd glanced over at the princess, who so casually called him by his first name. A fleeting smile adorned his lips. Would she be thinking about that night at the ball as well? No, probably not. He should not be so selfish. That ball had turned out to be a disaster for her. He had seen what had happened, but he had no chance to talk with the princess after, as he was herded out of the ballroom with the rest of the guests. And why would a princess want to talk with a man she had only met that night. So, for the time being, this was all he got. Talking about orphanages. Goodwill and charity. ‘‘Of course, princess,’’ he replied to her question. Even though he thought it might be a bit overkill to make an orphanage like a cathedral. ‘‘Everything is possible from a good foundation. I know the best stone masons and carpenters in the city. It's easy to make something special out of rough material, it would only take more time,’’ he started to speak a bit rambling as his knowledge of his trade took over. ‘‘But if you want for example, stained glass, I would recommend to place it immediately.’’

As he was talking, the princess leaned over the table and he slightly moved an arm as she came closer. His eyes fluttered to the closed door, where he expected a guard might walk in every second, back to the princess, who's raven black hair was dangerously close. ‘‘The usual,’’ he continued with a slightly hoarse voice. ‘‘Dark oak and Sleetspire stone.’’ He looked over to the side to give her a small smile. ‘‘It's not like we can afford marble,’’ he softly joked. Although, he didn't even think it was funny. He just.. didn't know what else clever he could say.