The Ember In The Storm (undergoing editing)

Part IV

Elizabeth stilled in the rocking chair like a vagrant caught stealing in a home. Considering Jackson was built quite well enough, he was as light as a feather and she did not notice or hear him come in.

He tilted his head at her, turning his gaze to the chair and back to her. She quickly jumped to her feet, messing with the hem of her collar. Her hair had finally fallen to her shoulders, unlike the way she always tied it up with a bonnet on. It bounced around her at every movement.

Elizabeth's face flushed with embarrassment, she was light enough for her cheeks to turn flamingo, he noticed that. She stepped further away from Jackson's rocking chair.

"Sorry." Her head lowered.

A low grumble escaped his throat as he walked towards her, stopping once he noticed her coat on his bed.

He frowned.

"Sorry about that, too," she jerked for her coat quickly.

Jackson rubbed his temples, thinking of ways to get his thoughts through. "I guess I'll just move out myself."

Elizabeth frowned with curiosity. "Where do you go to?"

"Guest room." His tone implied it was the obvious thing he had expected her to know. "You expect us to share this bed?" He corked a brow at her, finally meeting her eyes.

Jackson still looked like earlier; long, brunette, hair disheveled, thick brows drawn together with thought. His lips pursed inward, giving a more visible view of the small black mole at the top  left corner of his lip.

And surprisingly, Elizabeth found it attractive. What was wrong with her? She didn't even like white men, or white people.

She maintained a steady face and kept her thoughts away from anything to do with him that would heat her face any further. 

"I can sleep on the floor, please. The bed is yours," Elizabeth moved further away from the bed. "I can even change the sheets if you need me to, all I need to do is find—"

"Whether the bed was offered to me by the King himself, I would not want to lay on it. It is a marriage bed and I wish not spending a night on it. You and I may be wed but that does not make you my lover, does it?" He spoke with a calm tone. That was the most she had ever heard him say in a go.

"Whether drunk or not," he made sure to add.

Elizabeth winced. He was really not letting that go, she supposed.

He had been blaming her for the situation they were in. The situation they both were forced into like pawns. The best she could have done would be to at least announce how he had never touched her. Except she did not... and that, that made him loathe her.

Besides the marriage, Elizabeth was also trying to find means to get over the fact that the man ahead of her had seen her bare, fully. It was a lot to digest, the thought of it alone brought mixed emotions she did not want to face.

"Sir, you do not understand—"

"Sir?" He raised an eyebrow, scoffing with a smile as he rolled his eyes.

Elizabeth took a deep sigh, defeated by him and his attitude. How did he expect her to address him then?

"Your Highness," Elizabeth could not help the smile on her face when he frowned and narrowed his eyes at her. "You can sleep wherever you please," she finished with a polite smile.

Jackson examined her face for a while, watching her walk to her bag sprawled on the floor. She took a dress out and hang it over her arm.

"Changed your mind already? You were offering to sleep on the floor just a second ago."