Her Runaway Prince

“Thank you, Amanda dearie. It smells as delicious as always,” the lady commented, and the old man wasted no time in taking a bite to taste. His eyes widened in pleasure, giving Amanda a thumbs up.

“This is poetic, Amanda. Ten out of ten, I would eat it again.” He held his hand to his mouth as if to whisper something, and Amanda bent down to hear it, but he spoke out loud enough for his wife to hear. “Give me the recipe. My wife’s cooking could use a bit of fine tuning.” He chuckled when his wife playfully hit his arm.

“This man. I would be more insulted if I didn’t think the same. It’s a wonder my cooking hasn’t caused him any permanent damage yet.” She dug into the food as well, and Amanda found herself giggling behind her hand again. Those two had been married for a very long time, but they were still so very happy. They were both best friends and lovers, and Amanda was reminded of her own relationship with Peter.

“I’m glad my cooking is satisfactory. You’re always welcome to have seconds,” she winked. At that moment Peter passed by and stopped by them.

“She won’t even give me firsts. If I die, it’ll be due to starvation.” This earned Peter a playful slap from both Amanda and the old lady. He grinned widely at Amanda before smiling softly at the couple. “How rude of me to not introduce myself first. My name is Peter Michaels, Amanda’s personal slave.” He winked, and the couple chuckled.

“He’s cute, can we keep him?” the old lady asked her husband, and he pretended to be busy considering it.

“I’m not sure honey, he’ll have to be house-trained first.” This caused Peter to laugh bashfully and, for once in his life, be left without a comeback. Seeing Peter’s flustered gaze and smile made Amanda’s heart swell in an unknown way, the organ threatening to push her ribs apart and pop right out of her chest cavity.

“He better get back to work.” Amanda kissed Peter’s cheek. “I’ll come by tonight and we can talk some more, catch up a bit,” she told the couple before walking back to the kitchen, Peter in tow. In the privacy of the kitchen, Peter spontaneously picked Amanda up and placed her on the kitchen counter to kiss her.

Amanda melted into the kiss, wrapping her skinny arms around his neck and holding him closer, smiling widely against his lips. She was barely able to keep herself from giggling like a nervous schoolgirl. He held her to him, their bodies pressed together, their hearts beating against each other. The kiss was gentle, and loving, and so sweet. When Peter pulled away, he pressed his forehead to Amanda’s, keeping his eyes closed. She held her hand against his cheek, loving the way his beard felt beneath her palm. She gently traced his pale pink lips beneath her thumb, enjoying the plump and soft feeling of the flesh. Had his lips always been the same pink as the sunrise?

“And that?” she whispered, using her other hand to gently rake her fingers through his hair, allowing her nails to softly graze along his scalp. He moved his head with her touch, sighing in delight at the pleasurable feeling.

“I just love you so damn much,” he said softly, allowing the words to warm Amanda’s soul. A sudden wave of love and adoration for the man in front of her rose in Amanda’s chest, and she hugged him tight, holding him as close to her as he could be in that moment. She breathed in his scent of sandalwood and rain, the scent which she had grown quite addicted to in the past few months, and she felt her heart ache beautifully at the thought of how everything, all the pain of her past and all her hardships, was finally making sense to her.

It had all led her to him.

It had all led her to Peter.

It had all led her to be in his arms in that very moment, with the cold wind blowing outside and the people chattering inside and the hearth crackling in the distance. It had all led her to be there, to be in love with him.

“I love you more,” she said, unable to find any other words to correctly convey how she was feeling, because how does one exactly put emotions as strong as hers at that moment into words? She doubted that the English language had the correct words.

“So you think,” He challenged, tracing sweet kisses up the dark skin of her neck. This time she sighed in pleasure. She closed her eyes, letting her eyelids flutter shut, her plump lips parted slightly as she took in short, small breaths.

“I don’t think you’ll ever be truly able to comprehend what I’m thinking, Peter,” she whispered, before biting down on her bottom lip when he placed a particularly pleasurable kiss by the base of her throat. He stood back and grinned.

“Funny. My math tutor said almost the same thing to me as a kid,” he teased, and she couldn’t help but chuckle. He helped her off the counter and placed a chaste kiss to her forehead. “But I think I get what you mean,” he whispered before looking in her eyes. “Now, let’s get back to work, okay?”

She nodded, watching him leave the kitchen. She was abruptly reminded that another customer had asked for some water, and she swiftly filled the jug with the clear liquid before walking out to the dining room. She stood by the table and served the customers with a smile, apologising for taking so long.

“You look so familiar!” The very customer said as Peter was passing by.

Amanda immediately noted the panic on his face. She was reminded of that day in the forest, when she’d asked him about his home country. He’d reacted in almost exactly the same way. Stiff shoulders, deep intake of breath, tight lips. He smiled stiffly at the customer, mustering up as much kindness as he could at that moment.

“Sir, you must be mistaken,” Peter chuckled gently, ready to walk off, but the customer would not stop.

“No, you do! Have you been on TV before? You look like someone famous,” he continued to enquire, and Amanda trying to think of a way to help Peter, but he waved his hand as if waving away the notion, finding it silly.

“I look like a Hollywood star, apparently,” Peter chuckled. “Must be that.” He shrugged, and walked off. That was supposed to be that.

However, as Amanda was walking back to the kitchen, she found herself thinking otherwise. He got nervous when he talked about his past, and he got nervous when someone mentioned him looking familiar, and he refused to acknowledge either. More and more evidence was pointing to him being someone on the run, someone famous, and Amanda’s heart ached at the notion. Her heart ached at the thought that he might have been lying to her the entire time.

However, she loved him, and she needed to respect his privacy. She needed to convince herself that, whatever he was going through, she was okay with it. He would talk about it when he was ready, and she needed to respect that. She was much the same in many ways, because talking about one’s past had never been easy, so she especially could sympathise with him. She knew she should leave him be, and suppress her rising curiosity, because after all, curiosity did kill the cat. They were together now, and that meant mutual respect until the day came when he decided to tell her about his past.

As difficult as that may prove to be.

On New Year’s Day, Amanda entered the cottage with an arm-full of fireworks. Peter, who had been relaxing by the hearth and reading the newspaper, looked her up and down with his eyebrow cocked. “Look, if you’re planning on killing me, there are many more subtle ways to do it than shooting me off with all those fireworks.”

She rolled her eyes and sat down beside him. “No, silly. It’s New Year’s! Since two years ago, I set fireworks off every New Year’s at midnight, and I’m planning on making it tradition. It’s a truly beautiful spectacle, and the people in town love it.”