The Night Prince - Chapter 21

Chapter Twenty One
In Which Lucia Encounters Prince Julian For The First Time By Day

The bedchamber of Prince Julian was not at all hard for Lucia to find.  She followed John's instructions and soon arrived at the mouth of a short and windowless corridor that cut back across the third floor, beginning at the library entrance.  This corridor led to a wall with a single door in it.  This appeared to be the door to Julian's private chamber, but Lucia wanted to be certain.  Any mistakes now would bring about terrible repercussions after her previous display of stubbornness in front of Claudette.  And the only way to determine the nature of this room, of course, would be to see the inside.  John had warned her against knocking, so as she set the tray down by the baseboard beside the door, she decided on a slightly different course of action.

She placed her hand on the golden coloured door handle and pressed it forwards, bracing it against the mechanism that held the door shut.  Then she twisted it.  Not a sound could be heard as she pulled the door open, just a crack.  She pressed her eye against the edge of the door and peered inside.

The world inside was an illuminated grey.  It was as though the air of the moonlit chamber had followed Julian in here, and had the full intention of following him everywhere he went.  The reason for this, she quickly discovered, was the translucent black curtains that hung over the tall window.  The room was built to let light rush in, yet altered to allow nearly none at all.  The general effect of the room was one of considerable amounts of drapery.  The bed was layer upon layer of cascading black fabric, the canopy spilling onto the covers, which in turn spilled to the floor.  The chair, the writing table, both night tables, and the wardrobe were adorned with large pieces of black fabric, hung there seemingly with abandon.  Under such a light, the room appeared as though it were a subterranean cave filled with criss-crossing, gushing waterfalls.  

It was difficult to determine much else.  The lighting in the room was rather awful from the perspective of functionality, and the swathes of fabric tossed this way and that did little but cause visual confusion.  Lucia waited a moment longer as her eye adjusted to the lack of light.  By this point, she was quite certain that she had indeed found the right room, but now that she was here, she wished to see what she could of this secret place before taking her leave.

She quickly regretted that decision.  As her eye became keener at sorting objects out in the dark room, she spied an unusual shape spread across the bed.  At first, there appeared to be nothing strange about this.  The bed was covered in long wispy shapes of black and white; two or three black blankets draped about on a bed covered with a white sheet.  But upon a second examination, she realized with a start that one of these shapes was none other than Prince Julian himself.

He was lying on the bed with his hands folded under his head.  He stared up at the ceiling with no regard for the increasingly late hour.  Although he was very much awake, he seemed perfectly content with lying idle.  From the looks of it, he had neglected even to finish dressing – or perhaps, undressing from the night before.  All he appeared to be wearing was a pair of black trousers.  The rest of his slender body was quite visible.  His chalky pale skin and subtle shape could not help but draw attention to themselves – nor to his strange refusal to ever venture outside.  Clearly, this was the body of someone who rarely saw sunlight or strenuous motion.  Lucia found her gaze developing a will of its own.  It gently traced the outline of his frame, which seemed to glow against the stifled sunlight.  She felt her face flush hot with embarrassment, and yet she could not bring herself to look away.  Instead, she took in the slight curves of his body, the light sprinkling of hair on his stomach, and the almost non-existent muscles that rippled gently as he breathed.

Lucia's fingers twitched, causing a slight rattling sound as they tapped the door handle.  To her horror, Julian turned his head slightly in her direction.  His long dark hair fell over into his eyes, and he appeared still to be focusing on the ceiling, albeit the portion over the door.

"Claudette, is that you?"  He said tiredly.  Lucia did not respond.  She leaned back from the open door.  Slowly, she released her grip on the door handle, letting it turn silently back into its place.  Casting a quick glance at the breakfast tray, she checked that it was right where it was supposed to be.  She knew that this would be her opportunity to slip away undiscovered.  Considering that John had warned her against so much as knocking on the door, she could not even begin to imagine the terrible effect that this… this incidental peeping might bring about.

From inside the bedroom, Julian sighed.  There was a touch of annoyance in his voice.  Lucia debated whether she should shut the door first or simply flee.  But before she could decide, Prince Julian spoke again.

"There's no need to skulk around."

"I wasn't skulking," Lucia protested, and immediately clapped her hands over her mouth.

From within the darkened bedroom, there came the creaking of springs.  Julian sat up on his bed, grabbed a rumpled shirt that he had flung over the back of his chair some days before, and approached the doorway.  He was still pulling the shirt down over his head when he swung the door open.  Lucia's eyes reluctantly met his, although the way his hair fell in front of his face made this difficult.  She could not keep herself from stealing a glimpse of his wrinkled shirt, which had been hastily pulled on lopsided and was offering far too many reminders of what lay underneath.

"Lucia," he said.  His voice contained a smile, although his face did not.  "I did not expect to see you here."

"Nor did I," Lucia stammered.  "Er, anyways, I have brought you your breakfast.  Margaret's not well.  You know, the maid, Margaret.  She's not well."

Julian seemed to be staring everywhere but at her.  His sweeping eyelashes obscured even further her clues as to what he was paying attention to.

"You haven't caught it, have you?"

Lucia's face flushed again.

"Caught what?  Er, caught what, sir?"  Pretending to be on less familiar terms with the prince did not seem to help the awkwardness of the situation any.  Rather, it seemed to heighten them, highlighting her embarrassment via her cover of false professionalism.  

"Margaret's illness," Julian said.  "Have you caught it?"

Before Lucia could say or do a thing, Julian gently placed his hand along the side of her face.  It was precisely the gesture as the one from the night before.  Lucia could hear her heart pounding in her ears.  Julian turned his wrist over, pressing the back of his hand against her cheek.  His surprisingly soft and cool skin brushed against her face; first her cheek and then her forehead.

"I'm fine," she said in a faint voice.

"Are you certain?"  He asked.  "You feel hot."

This did nothing for Lucia's blushing.  Nodding frantically, she broke away.  She bade him a good day, bobbed in the way a maid was supposed to, and hurried back down the short corridor.

"Will you still see me tonight?"  He called after her.  Lucia silently chastised
herself.  Any hint that she had no intention of being on the third floor besides her responsibilities as a maid was gone.  Without stopping or even slowing her pace, she cast a glance over her shoulder and replied with a yes.  Her feet did not stop moving, even after she had heard Julian withdrawing into his bedchamber and shutting the door behind him.