Chapter 35 Grapes

Isla
RAKAR LEADS ME TO THE ORCHARD. He doesn't even glance at me through out our walk there. He halts in front of the white bridge and a strong wave of de ja vu hits me. But I quickly recover. The orchard hasn't changed much since I left here with Rakar.
My eyes catch glimpses of changes and I gulp. Just beside the river is a table dressed with white linen and it's matching chairs. On the table is a tray of grapes, a jug and two goblets. A table for two.
A lean and tall stoic figure stands rigidly on the bridge and stares into the river. I turn on my heels and will my legs to run.
"Where do you think you are going, coquette?" Rakar has his hands on my waist and whispers into my ear.
"Get a grip of yourself!" I half-scream half-shriek at him and twirl round so I'm facing him. "And don't ever call me a coquette again!"
He stares at me deadpan, I'm panting heavily my chest rising and falling. Just when I think I've gotten the arrogant Duke sober, his face bursts into a huge fit of laughter. I feel my face grow warm then hot.
"You look even more beautiful when you are trying to be fierce." He wipes fake tears and gives me a condensing look, " you should have seen your face—"
"Rakar!" The voice is not what I expected at all. I imagined it deep, baritone and thunderous like the King's. But instead, it's warm and mellifluous.
Rakar's face falls immediately and he schools his features to be blank. I'm duly surprised at his acting skills. "I fetched her, Kyan."
Kyan's eyes rests on my face and I flinch at the colour. Not because of disgust but awe. Kyan's eyes are a very rare colour. The variant hues of sprouting blades of grass, the enchanting and gorgeous shade of emeralds. I look away and stare right at the river.
I hear Rakar's departing footfalls but instead of me to be delighted to not be around the spoilt male, I have this urge to run after him. I don't know why but I'd pick Rakar over Kyan.
"Isla." It's the soft whisper of the breeze. I dare to glance at him but he is walking away from me and making his way to the table.
I know I'm to follow him, and sit opposite him talking over grapes and the unknown liquid in the jug but my feet doesn't move. It is planted firmly to the ground. Kyan takes a seat and gives me a pointed look with his brows slightly raised.
Bracing myself, I suck in a breath and take a bold step forward. And I fall plummeting to the grassy ground. Groaning, I push myself faster than lighting onto my feet. The only embarrassment bigger than falling flat on my face in front of Prince Kyan is allowing him to help me to my feet and I will not allow that.
I stand straight, dusting my trousers avoiding his emerald eyes. I feel shame in form of creeping hot blood travel to my face. My face and arms sting, I can't wait to see the new wounds I've gottenI think sarcastically.
"Are... You all right?" I hear him ask. He shuffles closer so he is right in front of me.
"Y-Yes," I squeak. Daringly I raise my gaze to his face. The corner of his lips raise slowly in an amused smirk and then it falls all of a sudden and a frown dominates his face.
"You are injured." His brows meet with a furrow and he touches the skin just below my temple. My skin tingles and my heart skips a beat, I take a quick step backwards and his frown deepens. His eyes are etched with worry.
I can feel the sting of the bruises on my face and arms. I bite my lips to prevent a wince or worse, an outburst of tears. Ignoring the concern engraved on his face, I walk pass him with my head high to the table.
I slump on the chair with a small sigh of relief and clench my fists on the table, I don't want him to see my shaking hands.
"Are you sure you are all right, Isla?" He asks as he slips into the seat opposite mine.
Why does the stoic Prince seem overly concerned? "I'm okay," I reply without looking at him," I've had worse."
He leans backwards in his seat and looks right at me, scrutinising me. I feel like a specimen under his intense studying stare.
"Rakar said you are doing this because the King asked you to." I bite my tongue as soon as I blurt this. I sound accusing and hurt. I don't care why he is doing this, I just want it to be over as soon as possible. I don't want him to find out if he wanted to spend time with me or not.
Kyan doesn't smile or frown at my words. His face remains eerily calm and unperturbed, he cocks his head to one side but doesn't say a word. Now, I'm even more embarrassed than falling in front of him.
"Rakar told you that?" He says something finally. I'm almost relieved he has said something rather than stare at me like I have grown a second head.
"Maybe," I answer. My first clench and unclench and his steady gaze flickers to them. He doesn't comment on my tightly clenched fists but instead returns to staring at my face.
You would think that he hasn't seen a commoner before.
"Is that my sister's kaftan?" He asks calmly with a tinge of accusation in his words.
I bite my lip, grind my teeth, blink my eyes, clench my fists tighter so my nails dig into my palms. I do everything possible to keep myself from punching his royal face into a pulp. How dare he imply that I stole his sister's clothes? His words may not hold much meaning but his tone clearly does.
"Your sister gave me these clothes," I snap at him.
If my tone or expression angers or annoys him or even interests him, he doesn't show it.
"I only asked because it seems familiar," he says dryly.
"She doesn't wear them," I retort.
"I remember her choosing the fabric to get it made for her," he explains without tone.
"I meant no disrespect, Isla," he tells me after a minute or two of complete silence. His features are blank as usual but his tone is softer somehow.
"None taken," I say.
He reaches for a grape and plucks off the small purple fruit with a flourish. I watch him pop one into his mouth and chews slowly.
"You don't like grapes?" He asks after swallowing.
I shrug. "I don't mind them."
"What do you mind then?" He plucks off another one, and rolls it in his fingers but his eyes are boring into mine.
"Why do you ask?" My brow shots up in question.
"I think... I should know... Considering we are to be married." He pops the second grape into his mouth and chews while watching me with a deadpan expression.
I almost choke on my saliva. There is no way I'm getting married to him. I have an escape to be planning, a family to go back to. Marriage to anyone is not on my agenda.
"Pardon?" My voice is a raspy squeak.
"We are supposed to get to know each other, right? So we will have a clue to what we are going to be tolerating in our... Marriage." He speaks slowly, counting his words, taking his time with a slight drawl.
I don't reply. Instead, with shaky hands I reach for the grapes, the red ones. He doesn't take his eyes off my face till I swallow the grape with a hard gulp.
"You don't like the green ones?" He drawls quietly. I dare to nod, hid lips twitches, "I too."
I don't think that disliking the same colour of grapes is much to have in common but I don't say so.
He pours out a golden brown liquid from the jugs into the goblets and raises his to his lips. I do the same, I raise my glass to my lips and just before I can take a sip, the hard smell of alcohol hits my nose.
Wrinkling my nose, I drop the goblet on the table with a dull thud.
Kyan gives me a questioning look.
"I don't drink alcohol."
"Another thing about you," he says. "Go on."
I shake my head, I have no words to say.
"Would you rather we go for a walk?" His warm tones flows out.
I don't say a word as I study the details engraved on the goblet. He takes my silence as a 'yes' and he stands up from his seat fluidly.
"Come on." It's barely a whisper.