5: The First Time I Saw Your Face

Isana almost choked on her words. What was that supposed to mean?

"That is quite a funny joke, Bastian." She managed to scoff in return, hoping he would take the hint that she was not in the mood for games.

The Prince looked down upon her, the faintest smirk touching his lips. It was clear that he enjoyed her embarrassment and conveyed with his body language that he wanted to continue.

"But I would prefer to remain professional for now." Isana stared right back at him, refusing to budge. Maybe on a different day, in a different hour, at a different time, she would be able to match the rambunctious energy that flowed through him.

The Princess also understood the eagerness in his eyes to be a facade. He was toying with her like he probably did with other women. He was trying to see how she would react, how easy she was to entertain.

At her rushed refute, Bastian's lips curled into a devilish smile. Isana couldn't decipher the intent behind it. Was he pleased with her response or did he find her attempt laughable?

"Wonderful." He whispered, taking one last once-over of her features, his eyes unmistakably lingering on the curvature of her breasts. Bastian couldn't deny that Isana was displayed in a purposeful, majestic manner. Her features were highlighted delicately, yet they commanded his attention, her frame accentuated with each movement she made, the width of her dress failing to hide just how toned her body really was, how strong she could really be.

Did she have magical powers? How was she to know that his favorite color was forest green? He was enchanted almost immediately. He had almost forgotten to uphold his own tactics of control. He had to be dominant, he had to dominate his future partner. He had to make Isana fall in love with him, not the other way around.

It was hard, he felt his heart beat faster in her presence. Her hair was long, luscious, and it came to rest at her middle back in a traditional braid. Isana’s eyes sparkled a deep green that mimicked the shade of her dress. Bastian felt his throat tighten as his gaze fell to her glossed lips, the perfect shade, and the perfect shape.

His motives were pure at heart, lacking anything sinister. Everything Bastian was attempting was for the sake of his people, for the sake of his kingdom. He had prepared himself for anything and was ultimately surprised to be entranced by the woman standing before him.

That was the one thing the Prince had not prepared for. Even if he had heard countless rumors about her unmatchable beauty, glimpsing Princess Isana Slaisian in person was a gift from the gods. Bastian was internally bewitched, yet his training and desire for power helped him mask his instinctual motives.

Despite her beauty, he was still being forced to marry her. That thought alone was enough to cast his initial cravings aside.

The Princess wholeheartedly felt the same intuition. At first glance, there was nothing she could criticize about Bastian. Yet her stubbornness took the reins, screaming at her over and over again until she relented. Her whole life was ruined because of this man. This man, Prince Bastian, would be the man to take her freedom. He would be the one to control the lands she had grown to farm, the castle she had grown up in, and every creature and person that inhabited its walls.

Once Bastian’s study commenced, his eyes once again met hers. She had the potential to become the best Dragon Queen his kingdom had ever known. That upset him. Like her, he had been raised to find a partner but was not ready to submit his heart to another.

"There is nothing wonderful about our situation." The Princess hissed, averting her eyes and turning away from him altogether. Instead, she faced the Kings before her. She could feel Bastian's eyes linger, his gaze fierce and commanding.

Regardless of her defiant body language, her refusal to give in, Bastian was intrigued against his own preconceived notions. He leaned forward over her shoulder, his lips hardly inches away from her ear. "So you don't believe in true love?" He whispered, chuckling lowly, his eyes trained forward where her gaze was also focused. He made sure the Kings before them were oblivious, enthralled with their own conversation.

"I am happy to see that you are doing well, that you remain successful so many years after." King Salvador complimented, his eyes examining the thoroughly decorated throne room and dining hall. The Slasian crescent flag hung from the ceiling, swaying lightly with a gentle breeze from an opened window.

"I extend my compliments, as well. The Kaarella kingdom has shown to be resilient despite the circumstances."

"Circumstances that were beyond our control, circumstances that my heir and I hope to reconcile."

"I as well, would you like to discuss such options over the finest meal the Slasian Kingdom can provide?" King Alaric gestured his hands to the mahogany wooden table that stretched wide to seat over thirty adults.

"Of course, Alaric. I also want to apologize for coming so soon without notice. We had anticipated that the journey would be longer given the distance. It has been years since anyone from Kaarella has been to Slasia."

Isana shuddered, trying to focus on the more critical conversion, yet all her brain could configure was the hot breath from Bastian that fanned down her neck. His proximity was enough to cloud her vision, enough to make her lose all focus on the task that required her unimpaired and undivided attention.

"Bastian," The Princess whispered his name as if it was a curse, turning back towards him and setting her hand against his bare chest. The contact was warm, and she almost lost her demand, trying to deny the hedonism that rushed through her veins. "Before you go asking me such questions, I demand to know your own beliefs beforehand."

Satisfied, even with such a simple reply, The Prince retreated to a respectable distance. He was now standing horizontally to her, not even bothering to hide his cheekish smirk. "I believe in true love."

Isana rolled her eyes, knowing he must be referring to her out of a childish desire to make her blush, to squirm like she was sure he had made so many other women. Was he that desperate to make her fall in love with him?

But she refused to budge. Though it was tempting, whether he was serious or not. Whether his lingering gaze signaled his interest or just the playfulness of privilege and wealth, Isana could not decipher. She did not want to know. All she wanted to do was discuss her future. She wished Bastian would become serious, for her entire destiny was on the line.

That was something a Prince would never be able to understand. So to counter his teasing, she replied with force. She would not be walked over. She would not be played. If she was going to marry this man, she was going to be just as powerful.

Isana would force Bastian to give her the power she deserved, a power that even her father refused to grant. She truly sympathized with her people. She wanted the famine to end; she wanted the war to end. If bearing Bastian's flirtatious was the most straightforward task, she suddenly became frightened with what else they would have to deal with together.

The one thing the young Princess realized was that she had to try her best. King Alaric was still conservative. He wanted his daughter to be pleased with her mate. He wanted them to actually be in love, for love was present in the greatest of kingdoms.

Despite the evident truth, Isana could not resist the words that were bundling up within her conscience, which were eager to be released, eager to prove Bastian wrong, to prove to Bastian that she was just as capable and smart.

"If I were to have as many lovers as you, would you still believe that I was your true love?" Isana glanced over, folding her arms respectfully in front of her. She couldn't help but smile as the game ensued, both of them desperate to insult the other so quietly so that their elders would not notice.

Bastian laughed through his nose, crossing his own arms in front of him. He was aware of what her question meant. Isana had another lover, and she assumed from the many rumors spread about him that he had countless others. It was a shame, as he wanted to believe she wasn't so easily swayed by gossip.

"Before you become too sly, try and recall the prejudices you have against me and my kind."

"I could say the same to you." The Princess whispered. "We are nothing alike. Let's not pretend we are."

"We must find similarities." Bastian was firm on that statement, wanting to put his trust in his father's decision, a decision he was sure would benefit more than just the royalty.

Isana gained the courage to turn back to face Bastian. He had shifted positions. His thick fur coat had nonchalantly rested behind his crossed arms, revealing his bare chest even further, highlighting the defined muscles that became more tempting by the moment.

His tattoos were visible for a split second. The one she had glimpsed before became clear. Isana was able to see it in its entirety now, a fire breathing dragon that curled around his side and onto his back, casting a jet black shade that explained a story and meaning that Isana would never be able to understand. There were names too, ancient names that she was unable to pronounce. Symbols that were foreign and indecipherable to those who did not speak the language and did not practice the magic.

The young Princess was at a loss for words.

"Do you like them?" Bastian whispered the serious question. At Isana's curious gaze, his sardonic demeanor vanished.

Isana wanted to lie; she wanted to exploit the small opening he had left in his defenses, as he actually seemed unsure of how she would react. As if he had experienced rejection for his tattoos before.

"I do." She replied.

Prince Bastian's posture visibly relaxed. And then, he smiled. It was a genuine smile, the previous malicious in his body language vanishing.

"They are my heritage."

Isana tilted her head, forcing her eyes to peel away from the intriguing body markings. She noticed they continued up and down to places covered by the fabric he was wearing. She then wondered if they perhaps covered most of his body.

"I hope to be shown more in the future."

Bastian and Isana shared one last glance, a glance of confirmation, of a possible blossoming romance. The young Princess bit down on her lip as she faced the Kings engrossed in conversation.

There was something about the Prince that made her heart race, an intensity that was so unfamiliar, that made her question the misconstrued teachings of attraction that she had grown to understand.

Eventually, King Alaric's and King Salvador's catch-up conversation faded into silence. The silence was surprisingly comfortable, as Isana did not want to talk about anything else, already embarrassed by Bastian's antics, reminding her of what had happened before.

"I assume you and your son must be hungry from such a long journey. The Slasian's would be proud to offer you a recovery meal now."

King Salvador turned to his son, flashing a sly, coy smile in his direction. "We would appreciate that very much."