(continued from Part VII | Act I | Act II | Part IX)
"Alright Loulou," the Prince said with a smile as he threw her discarded dress off to the side. "One night. Make it count."
And then she woke up.
Lou inhaled sharply, her eyes opening wide. She stayed still, waiting for her eyes adjusting to the morning light and for her mind to adjust to the transition from dream to reality. She winced from the embarrassment. She thought she was finally free of those dreams.
Wait. Had that actually happened?
It was awfully dark, but her gut told her it was morning. Usually, light would be filtering in through the window at the top of the far wall by this point. She reflexively reached for her glasses, but there was something in the way; her fingers brushed up against dangling fabric, displacing it just enough for a sliver of light to filter into the closed canopy. She wasn't in her bed. She was in his.
Gods above and below, it had actually happened.
She buried her head ever so slightly more under the covers, careful not to wake the Prince sleeping on his back next to her. They were heart-stoppingly close: his arm around her shoulder, hers over his midsection. He was still asleep despite her fumbling about for her glasses. Who knows where they were at this point; she could search for them later. It's not like there was anyone else around at the moment who might recognize her without them.
As she watched the Prince's chest rising and falling with each breath, it occurred to Lou that she had never seen this particular part of her old body from this angle, or this proximity.
She had also seen many other parts of her former body up close, she remembered as more memories of the previous night flooded back in. She felt her face begin to burn. The Prince would never let her live it down. Not in a hundred years. Although... wasn't it the same for him, now that she thought about it? They were on equal footing: both of them had exchanged bodies.
Both of them had also exchanged many other things and oh gods she needed to think about something else already. She every so gently lifted her head, looking at the Prince's face as he slept. Her old face. Well, minus the beard.
Lou had never been one to show emotion, but the Prince was different—his charisma lit up the room. His smile, she had learned, was never too far away, whether it was genuine or not. That part of him hadn't changed, always hiding something up his sleeve, planning multiple moves in advance. It was a part of him she'd always found comforting during their years together: she would focus on the present, and trust the future to him. Now, though, she had to trust him with more. Trust him with the body that, up until that point, she had used to keep him safe.
Although he certainly knew how to use it—augh! Enough!
To be fair, though, how could she avoid thinking about it? When she started her life over again in the castle all those months ago, she had been content with keeping her distance from him. She'd made her peace with it. And now, in just a few hours, she had gotten closer to him than she had gotten to anyone, ever, in her entire life.
And it had been her decision, because this was her body now. She chuckled quietly to herself. She hadn't hesitated, or even waited! Just dove headfirst into it, as soon as the opportunity had presented itself. Why waste time thinking about it when you could act, right? Her former body was just that: former. Regardless of how familiar it had been to her, it was the Prince's now, through and through.
And it was lovely.
It was a strange feeling, seeing for the first time the beauty of something you had only ever thought of as a tool. Lou had never hated her body, but she had never particularly liked it, either. She wore it like armor, wielded it like a sword. It was a thing that served a purpose. But the Prince had brought it to life; made it his. Now that her body was inhabited by someone she loved, she could appreciate it from the outside.
She lifted her hand up in the air, watching as it caught the lone sunbeam slipping into the canopy that enclosed the bed. Maybe it was the same from his perspective. Maybe he, too, had begun to care for the body Lou now called her own; his priceless gift to her. Deep down, part of her hurt at the thought that he had spent so many years unable to see the beauty in his skin; that for so long, he had been cruelly prevented from loving something so precious.
Her heart ached at the cosmic injustice of it. She would wrest from the heavens any god that allowed this to happen.
The Prince's hand met her own, in the sunlight, intertwining his fingers with hers. "Morning," he said, with a smile that quickly faded as he got a good look at her. "Loulou, are you alright?"
— end of preview
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