aamon paxley X o.c. • the duke and the runaway

22.

Seraphima and Aamon stayed quiet after their short conversation. She held on tight with her arms snaking around him, her body leaning against his back.

The white horse sprinted outside of the gates as they followed behind Gusion who was in the lead. The hooves of both horses were in unison, sounding like drums in a festival. The atmosphere was colored with hues of pink, orange and blue whilst the sun continuously ascend in its own pace. Morning has still yet to come but the dawn was enough to light the road.

Wind blew across the land, the greenery glowing in a natural way as sunlight gradually descended on the fields and the rows of trees.

The Crisiant woman relaxed behind him but her heart was being a bit stubborn. It stayed in its tumultuous behavior that she could feel that familiar warmth in her chest.

So, this is what it feels like, huh... She thought to herself. She didn't know that embracing such an enigmatic and handsome man like him would cause her to feel the butterflies swirling in her stomach. It felt wonderful like the warm fireplace and sweet like bee's honey.

Seraphima let herself lean a bit closer to him and lightly put her ear against the back of his torso, just below his shoulders. She could hear his heartbeat thrumming like an acoustic instrument, soft and gentle to listen to. Not just that, his scent reminded her of the light rain and the faint aroma of citrus. It made his presence more comfortable to her like swaddle of blankets or a fluffy plush toy.

Then her mind wandered off, reminiscing about the first time she met him. A well-respected individual, feared by myriads of men, women and children. But he wasn't so bad when she spoke to him and thanked him. The mysterious aura he exuded fairly hid his other side, that side of an affectionate and gentle man.

Later on with the days passing by, she felt herself getting closer with him. Her attention drawing directly towards him every time she gets the chance to see him.

Even in this moment, sitting behind him with her arms holding him close, she couldn't contain the flowing admiration she had for him. At first she thought it was just merely an act of marvel and regard but something swelled within her like a missing piece being found and inserted in place, completing a puzzle.

"About the piece of love that you are looking for... He is looking for it too."

Words from Florentina Crisiant, her mother, echoed within the expanse of her consciousness. Seraph repeated that statement all over again but she was still unsure of it.

The duke of House Paxley? The man just in front of her? Aamon Paxley?

Him?

It's too good to be true.

Every other woman desired to be wih this nobleman. Perhaps, he has eyes for a woman, not a commoner like her but a woman of high status and sovereignty. Hell, maybe he got tons of marriage proposals.

However, another thought nagged at her. The way he treated her, the time he offered her a magic cloak in the castle, the time he patted her head and the time he carressed her hand. He wouldn't just do that to anyone.

His actions puzzled her.

Just a friend, a companion, an acquaintance. Yes, that's all he is to me. She calmed herself down, hoping that her wavering composure won't catch the ash grey-haired man's attention. She unknowingly buried her face into his back causing the duke to glance behind him.

She slightly tensed because she could somehow feel his eyes on her then reluctantly, she glanced up and met those blue tinged grey orifices. Then she heard his voice afterwards.