Chapter 17

Kleena

Breathe, Kleena. And relax. You can do this.

Kleena stood rigidly as Calla draped the ritual robe over her shoulders. The fabric was heavy, not just with its physical weight but with the scent of tradition and a history she didn’t know anything about. She felt out of place, a foreigner in this village with customs that were not her own.

Frowning, she tried to steady her breathing, focusing on the soft murmurs of the village elder as he explained the significance of the ceremony.

“This ceremony is mostly symbolic,” Calla reassured her, sensing her unease. “It’s about unity and community, a celebration of togetherness.”

Kleena nodded, but her nerves continued to tingle with the anticipation of the intimate dance she must perform with Erhan.

The thought of being so close to him, of having to act like a loving couple, filled her with a mix of excitement and dread.

Her mind was a whirl of confusion and trepidation. Erhan had been avoiding her lately, his once attentive demeanor replaced by a cold distance that left her bewildered and hurt.

Why is he acting like this? What have I done wrong? And why does it hurt so much?

As she stepped out to join the festivities, Kleena caught sight of Erhan in his own ceremonial garb.

His bearing was regal, his presence commanding, and her heart skipped a beat despite her resolve.

He looked every inch the prince he was, a stark reminder of the world he came from—a world so different from her own.

I shouldn’t feel this way. He’s a prince, and I’m… just a human girl he saved from slavery.

They were pulled into the dance, and the villagers’ expectant faces left them no room to refuse.

Kleena’s hand found Erhan’s with an ease that spoke to the time they had spent together.

The connection was unsettling in its naturalness, as if their bodies remembered a bond their minds were trying to deny.

Why does this feel so right? How can I keep my distance when everything about him draws me in?

The dance began with a slow, measured movement, their bodies moving in perfect sync.

With every guided move and shared rhythm, the space between Kleena and Erhan grew smaller.

Their movements were a dance of unspoken emotions, bringing them closer, each turn blurring the boundaries she had tried so hard to maintain.

She could feel his warmth, the steady beat of his heart, and it both comforted and frightened her.

I can’t fall for him. I can’t. It’s too dangerous, too uncertain.

The villagers cheered around them, but Kleena barely heard them. Her focus was entirely on Erhan, on the way his eyes seemed to bore into hers, searching for something she wasn’t sure she knew how to give. His touch was gentle, almost reverent, and it sent a shiver down her spine.

Does he feel the same way? Is that why he’s been avoiding me?

As the dance intensified, Kleena found herself lost in the moment. The warmth of Erhan’s hand on her waist, the closeness of their bodies, stirred feelings she was reluctant to name. She tried to focus on the ritual, on the symbolic nature of their movements, but her mind kept drifting to the man in front of her.

What if I can’t stop myself from falling for him? What if it’s already too late?

The ritual was supposed to be a celebration of unity and community, but to her, it felt like so much more. It was a glimpse into what could be, a tantalizing vision of a future she dared not hope for.

He’s been so distant, so cold. What does he really want?

The ritual dictated that they move closer, a symbolic gesture that ignited a fire within Kleena. The heat of his presence clouded her mind, making it hard to think clearly. The villagers’ eyes were on them, seeing them as a loving couple, and Kleena’s performance became less of an act and more a confession of her growing desire.

Am I really just pretending? Or is this how I truly feel?

As the dance reached its climax, they were required to hold a final, intimate pose. Erhan’s face was so close to hers that she could feel his breath on her skin. As the dance concluded, and they held the final pose, Kleena stared into his eyes. The question of their relationship hung heavily in the charged silence between them. She saw a flicker of something in his gaze—confusion, longing, fear?—and it mirrored her own turbulent emotions.

What are we, Erhan? What do you want us to be?

The applause of the villagers broke the spell, and they moved apart. The moment shattered, but the feelings lingered. Her heart was racing, her mind a whirlwind of thoughts. She had been saved from a life of slavery by this man, this prince from another world, and now she found herself caught in a web of emotions she didn’t fully understand.

Can we really be together? Or am I just dreaming of something that can never be?

After the dance, the couples were guided to special secluded spots, chosen for privacy and serenity.

Kleena and Erhan were led to a small, tranquil grove, the canopy of leaves above filtering the moonlight into soft, dappled patterns on the ground. The air was filled with the sweet scent of blooming flowers and the gentle hum of nocturnal insects. Her heart pounded as they reached their spot. The ritual robe felt heavier than ever, a reminder of the intimacy and tradition they were about to partake in. She stole a glance at Erhan, who seemed calm but distant, his face a mask of controlled emotions.

A low table was set with a single pink fruit, already cut into pieces, its vibrant flesh gleaming in the soft light. The fruit was a symbol of unity, meant to be shared between the couple as a gesture of mutual trust and closeness.

“This is part of the ritual,” Erhan said quietly, his voice breaking the silence. “We share the fruit as a symbol of our bond.”

Kleena nodded, trying to steady her nerves. She took a deep breath and sat down on the soft grass. He sat across from her, his tail coiling under the small table between them. The closeness was both comforting and unnerving, amplifying the emotions she had tried to keep at bay.

I can do this. It’s just a ritual. Nothing more.

With a trembling hand, Kleena picked up a piece of the fruit and offered it to him. He accepted it, their fingers brushing briefly, sending a jolt of electricity through her.

She tried to hide her reaction, focusing instead on the ritual and its meaning.

“This is for unity,” she said softly, echoing the words Calla had taught her.

Erhan nodded and took a bite, his eyes never leaving hers. The intensity of his gaze made her feel exposed, as if he could see right through her defenses.

He picked up another piece and offered it to her. She took it, their fingers touching again, and she felt a warmth spread through her. As she took a bite, the sweetness of the fruit mingled with the bittersweet emotions swirling inside her.

“This is for trust,” he said, his voice low and steady.

Her heart ached at his words, knowing that trust was something she desperately wanted to build between them. But how could she when he kept himself so guarded?

The ritual continued, every piece of fruit they shared a step deeper into their connection. Kleena found herself drawn to Erhan’s presence, the closeness breaking down the walls she had built around her heart.

“This is for companionship,” he murmured, his voice barely audible over the night sounds.

Companionship.

The word resonated deeply within her. She had been alone for so long, and now, here was someone who had saved her, who stood by her, yet kept a distance she couldn’t bridge.

As they finished the last piece, the final part of the ritual, they were required to hold hands and share a moment of silence, reflecting on their bond.

Kleena’s hand fit perfectly in Erhan’s, and the warmth of his skin against hers made her feel more connected to him than ever.

What does this mean for us? Can we really be more than just companions?

The silence stretched on, the air thick with unspoken words. Kleena’s mind raced with thoughts of their future, of what she wanted and feared.

As they prepared to return to the village, Kleena felt a mix of hope and despair.

She wanted to reach out to him, to bridge the gap that had formed between them, but the walls he had built around himself seemed impenetrable.