Prince Caspian -Jung Yoonoh NCT

15. What's in A Kiss?

I look at Caspian beneath my eyelashes, as he turns his well-shaped head to speak to Chloe. Every line of his lean, graceful body, his fine profile and long-fingered hands speaks of class and breeding. Perhaps when I know him better he would tell me about his home and family. All I know of him now is that he has travelled, is unmarried - or so he had said when I first met him, though it doesn't make sense that he is still unattached - and studying forestry - when it suits him. He speaks English fluently, with a clipped British accent, as if he has spent a lot of time in the UK, and knows Geneva like the back of his hand. I remember that Mrs. Lee has said he is no pauper and he certainly is lavish with his money. The forestry must be a whim, he could not be doing it from necessity, but who he is exactly, and what he does, is a mystery.

He turns back and catches my eyes on him, and noticing my glass is empty, signals to the waiter to refill it. 

"Oh, no more, please," I protest.

"Go on, you've drunk nothing yet," he says, and leaning closer, whispers, "this time it's the fatal draught!"

"Then I certainly won't drink it," I say, pushing my glass away, and trying to speak lightly, unhappily aware that he might have spoken the truth. 

I am drinking a fatal draught, but it is not in the wine. 

After dinner we go into the ballroom, which is all white and gold with crystal chandeliers, to dance. Caspian dutifully divides his dances between the two of us, and each time I go to him after enduring Alistair's clumsy performance, I can't help but feel a thrill of joy. He moves with an effortless grace, and I have become expert at the Academy. Our steps fit perfectly and he holds me firmly, but not too close, guiding me with a smooth perfection that is almost professional. I tell myself that it is because he dances so well that I am eager to be in his arms again, but in my heart of hearts, I know there is more to it than that. 

Once he says to me, smiling down into my starry eyes, as he glides with me past the hazy, dreamy couples swaying on the floor, "Is the spell beginning to work yet?"

"Definitely," I breathe. "This is a magical night, but it'll end at midnight, all the best spells do." 

For one evening, surely I can be forgiven for forgetting Cousin Mark? For one evening, surely it is not too much to surrender to the charm of this attractive man holding me in his strong arms, his cheek almost, but not quite touching mine, his eyes dark, and intent on mine? Surely I am entitled to one brief night of happiness? Surely, surely that is not too much to ask?

It is well past midnight when we leave for home. The big car glides fast and smooth along the edge of the lake, the moon has risen and throws a sparkling path across the water, and silvered the distant mountain peaks; we turn away from the lake, climbing into the hills, chequered with shifting patterns of black and white. 

"Will you remember tonight?" Caspian asks softly, glowing and beautiful beside me, his hair shimmering silvery-white in the moonlight.

"All my life - " I laugh a little breathlessly, and I think, I must remember this moment forever, I must never forget.

The memory of this night, of him, will have to last me for all the rest of my days.

The Chateau appears, looming out of the mist, its towers shrouded in shadow. Behind it the woods stand silent and still, like sentinels of the night.

A single light twinkles in the dark, that above the front door.

Everyone is in bed, and the Chateau is asleep.

The car draws to a halt, and Caspian slides out with his careless grace, and opens my door, while Alistair helps Chloe out the back. 

"Alistair, mate, you'd better hurry to bed," Caspian slaps him on the back. "You'll not have much sleep before you'll have to be up to go to work."