“You still don’t remember do you?” He asked
I raised my brows.
“Why are you trying to poison my mind against Cross and now you’re here confusing me. Do you really hate him that deeply?” I asked.
He didn’t say a word.
I also didn’t bother, even if Imogen was the cause of thousands of death, it had nothing to do with me.
I was Selene not Imogen.
A confident smile spread across his face.
“It’s good to see you again Imogen and rest assured, I mean no harm. You can call me Buttins.”
For a second, I simply stared at him, then I burst out laughing.
I forgot about everything he had said.
I laughed so hard my stomach hurt and a tear escaped from the corner of my eye.
Who names their child Buttin?
I tried to stop with the laugh but every time I looked at his serious face, I laughed even harder.
His smile slowly disappeared.
“What’s so funny?” He asked, clearly annoyed.
I quickly covered my mouth.
“Nothing.” I replied, trying to hold back another laugh.
He stared at me for a moment before letting out an irritated hiss.
“You two are the same.” He muttered.
Without another word, he turned and walked away.
The moment he disappeared, I laughed again.
“These demons really have strange names.”
Eventually, the laughter faded.
The palace became quiet once more.
I sighed, somehow, I missed Cross.
Immediately those thoughts came into my mind, I slapped both cheeks.
“No. I am not worried and I do not miss him.”
I repeated the words to myself, but why did the palace suddenly feel emptier without him?
I frowned again.
My mind refused to settle.
Restless thoughts kept running through my head.
Could this be because of that soul link Cross mentioned?
I shook off the thoughts and decided to keep walking.
Maybe moving around would clear my thoughts.
As I wandered deeper into the palace grounds, my eyes admired everything around me.
The palace was breathtaking, it didn’t look like they just survived a war and something unusual caught my attention.
Not far ahead, a group of maids sat together around several spinning wheels.
Curious, I walked closer.
Only then did I realize what they were making.
Pottery.
My eyes immediately lit up.
Several maids sat around wooden wheels, their hands covered in fine gray clay as they carefully shaped pots of different sizes.
Some were smoothing the rims while others carved delicate patterns into the soft clay before placing the finished pieces under the sun to dry.
A bright smile spread across my face.
At the orphanage, Mother Superior insisted that every child learn a skill.
I had chosen pottery.
The moment I saw the clay, memories came rushing back and without thinking, I walked toward them.
As soon as they noticed me, every maid stopped what they were doing and quickly stood up.
They bowed together.
“Princess Imogen.” They muttered.
I smiled awkwardly.
That title still didn’t feel like mine.
“It’s okay. You can call me Imogen.” I said.
The maids immediately looked frightened.
One of them shook her head.
“We can’t do that, Princess.”
Another quickly added, “His Majesty would punish us.”
There was no point arguing.
They stepped aside, making space for me.
I walked closer and crouched beside them.
Their clay was different.
It wasn’t the reddish clay I used back home.
This one had tiny silver particles mixed into it, making it sparkle whenever sunlight touched it.
I picked up a little and rubbed it between my fingers.
It felt softer.
“Princess, this is a dirty work, it is not suitable for you.” She said nervously.
I looked up.
“I just want to join. It’s fine.”
The women exchanged nervous glances.
“It’s too dirty for the Princess.” another maid whispered.
I laughed softly.
“It’s fine. Please let me.”
They slowly nodded.
One of them pushed an empty pottery wheel toward me.
I sat down.
It had been years since I touched clay.
I placed both hands gently around it.
The wheel began to spin, slowly then faster.
The familiar feeling returned almost instantly.
I smiled, maybe I hadn’t forgotten everything after all.
The maids watched curiously as I shaped the clay.
I gently pressed my thumbs into the center before slowly pulling the walls upward.
The wet clay responded perfectly beneath my fingers.
Curious, the maids gathered around me as I worked.
They quickly copied my movements, and whenever someone struggled, I gently adjusted her hands.
One pot became two, then three.
The women admired them.
“They’re beautiful.”
“I’ve never seen anything like this before.”
I looked down at the pot in front of me.
It was elegant.
The neck curved gently inward while flowing patterns wrapped around the body of the vase.
It looked completely different from the pottery they usually made and I couldn’t help smiling proudly.
Cross has to see this.
The thought appeared so naturally that I didn’t even question it.
Without another word, I carefully lifted the finished pot into my arms.
“Thank you.” I said to the maids before hurrying away.
I ran through the palace corridors, holding the vase carefully against my chest.
The faster I ran, the more excited I became.
I had no idea why.
I guess I just wanted someone to praise my work and I wanted Cross to be the one to do it.
I quickly shook the thought away.
“No.”
I was only showing him because he lived here.
Nothing more.
I pushed open the bedroom doors.
The room was empty.
My smile slowly faded.
I looked around, there was no Cross.
I checked around again and called his name.
“Cross.”
There was no response.
I hugged the vase tighter.
“I’ll just wait for him outside.” I muttered.
As I stepped back through the doorway, a familiar warmth brushed against my back.
I froze and before I could turn around, two hands gently covered my eyes.
A small shiver ran through my body.
The touch, I knew it.
A smile threatened to appear in my face and I asked.
“Cross, is that you?”
A soft chuckle reached my ears.
“No.” He said with a soft smirk before removing his hands.
I immediately turned around and lightly punched his chest.
“Why did you have to lie? I could tell it was you.”
I tried to sound annoyed, but the smile on my face gave me away.
For some reason, I was genuinely happy he had returned.
Without saying another word, Cross stepped forward.
His hands settled gently around my waist.
My eyes widened.
We were so close that I could feel the warmth radiating from his body.
“My bride.” He said.
My heartbeat skipped.
I quickly removed his hands from my waist.
“I am not your bride.” I said.
Even as I pushed his hands away, a small part of me strangely missed their warmth.
I cleared my throat and quickly held the vase toward him.
“Look. I made you this.”
Cross accepted it carefully.
He turned it around in his hands, studying every curve and pattern.
Confusion slowly crossed his face.
“What is this design? I have never seen such before.” He said.
A proud smile spread across my face.
“This is the pottery we humans make and It’s all yours.” I replied.
Cross looked at the pot once more, then he looked back at me.
A gentle smile appeared on his face.
“That’s really thoughtful, my bride. No one has ever given me something they made with their own hands.”
He paused then continued.
“I’ll treasure it forever.”
I didn’t expect those words to make me so happy.
Immediately, he stepped behind me.
His arms slowly wrapped around me again.
This time, he held me from behind.
Our bodies pressed lightly together.
My breathing became heavy.
His warm breath brushed against the side of my face, sending tiny shivers down my neck.
Every tiny hair on my body stood on end.
Why did this keep happening whenever he came close?
I hated how comfortable his embrace felt.
I hated it even more because I didn’t really want him to let go.
He leaned slightly closer.
His voice dropped to a soft whisper.
“I have a surprise for you.”
Something about the way he said it made my heart beat faster.
I became tense.
Slowly, I turned my head just enough to look at him.
“What is it?” I asked.
My heartbeat sped up.
Something about the look in his eyes made my stomach tighten.
Whatever he was about to show me, I wasn’t sure I was ready for it.