She held onto his hand fiercely, the warm beige stone of the palace quickly given way to meadows of green grass. The sweet perfume of courtesans changed to the natural scent of flowers and clear air, and he inhaled it greedily. She led him far away from the others and finally plopped them down in the slope of a quiet meadow. The sun was beginning to set, and he remembered this was her favorite time of the day.
The orange sky lit up like it was ablaze, as if the rays of the sun had ignited the clouds. Red fire traveled across the sky until it exploded over their heads, and he could not take his gaze away. He thought nothing could rival the only glory of his own sky, but he found even his national pride was giving way to all the splendor this unique world had to offer. In that moment he thought there could be nothing more beautiful.
"Do you love me?" Her voice was calm, as if the question was easy to answer. She always had a way to make the toughest moments seem nonchalant. He turned to her, realizing his assumption was wrong.
Her bronze skin, flushed and bright, glistened softly from their long run out into the fields. The orange dress she had chosen for tonight matched the afternoon sky and hugged her body like a starving lover. Golden hair tumbled down her in free waves, and he knew all he had to do was reach out to feel its silk between his fingers. Above it all, he could see her bright eyes shinning from the dying light, the glorious blue of them reminding him of his own skies.
He had accepted his fate, but something changed the moment he saw her the first time. She filled the room with life and laughter; filled his heart with a longing he thought he had since lost. His dreams soon swarmed with visions of her, and the world turned to a golden Elysian when she smiled at him. He knew his destiny however, and he knew hers as well. He tried to guard himself around her, putting a facile wall of cold aloofness between them to protect their honor, to protect his heart.
She had seen through his facade without a second glance, and had destroyed his resolve with a stolen kiss at a masquerade. Seemingly against his will he was drawn to her, but no matter what he said to himself in the morning his convictions disappeared in the night. Secretively they met as their charges grew closer together, their affair blooming in the shadows of royal love. She saw passed his defenses, one of the only ones to reach out, to care. There were no expectations with her, no rules, no codes. Only moments like this.
No, she was more beautiful than anything. She was the morning star in his darkest nights; she was the warmth that filled his lonely thoughts and bitter worries. She was more than everything to him. But he would never say it to her; never utter the words that so many careless lovers exclaimed to each other. He could not forget completely; his duty bound his lips to silence, but not even he could deny the whispers of his heart.
He knew that he would never have to tell her the truth, and he was greatly relieved by that. He had realized she could see the answer as plain as she could see the sunset before them, but he always played her game nonetheless. He reached out to brush her hair from her shoulder, and softly ran his fingers across her its smooth angle and followed the length of her arm.
"I love my prince. It would be improper for people of our station to have feelings for one another," he said as he gently placed kisses across her collar bone. He felt her shiver beneath him, and smiled to himself.
She sighed quietly. "When will you believe that we are meant to be together?"
"We are not meant to be together. It is not allowed."
"No? Then why would he have let you come here? He must know."
He did not have an answer for that. Of all the people his prince could have chosen for this assignment, he was surprised that it had been him. Needless to say, he accepted without delay. Initially he harbored guilt for his deceptiveness, but if the prince knew?
"It doesn't matter. Duty is duty."
"Why are you so stubborn?" she huffed, and he found her pout irresistible. She put her hand on his leg, and he could feel its warmth through his clothes.
"We have much to lose. I could never forgive myself if..."
"If what?" She looked up hopefully as she let her hand travel up his body slowly.
"If I were to hurt you."
She smiled, as if some small victory had been won. Her touch disappeared, and he felt the chill of evening fall upon him. He watched as she reached behind her and pulled a red flower from the ground. He then noticed they were sitting in a field of them, and hungrily they seemed to soak up the red sunset, glowing in its warmth.
"Do you know what this is called? It's called the Passion Red. It's said it can find your true love."
"Oh?" he said with a slight smirk on his face.
"Yes." She broke the stem in half then and gently squeezed it between her fingers. He watched as she brought the clear liquid up to her lips, taking her time to smooth it on as he gazed breathlessly. "When you kiss someone with its blessing on your lips, then it will tingle and warm on theirs in reply if they are the one."
"And if it doesn't?"
"Then you are left alone with its effect, and must hope to find true love somewhere else."
"Sounds like a wives' tale."
"Many Venusians live by its method. Do you doubt my people?"
"Of course not."
"Are you afraid that it might actually work, and you will no longer have an excuse to resist me?"
"Mortal men should fear the kiss of a goddess."
"No one has ever died from a kiss."
"There are things worse than death."
"I'm willing to face them, with you. Kiss me."
He reached out a hand to her cheek, placing it beneath the waves of her hair. He brought her lips to him, eagerly capturing them in a hungry embrace. It had been too long since their soft velvet had touched his, and for a moment he forgot about the Passion Red and the world around them.
Soon, however, a slow burning began to ache on his lips, and he pulled away from her. She watched, amused, as he brought a finger tip to them, his brow creased in confusion. The sensation grew even greater the longer he was away from her embrace, and he bit them as they started to tingle. Its effect seemed to travel over him, tingling his hands and his feet in waves of warmth.
"You see, my lord general. We are meant to be together," she whispered softly in his ear and firmly put a hand on his chest to push him into the grass. He let himself be forgotten as the Passion Red burned on his lips, his desire for her burning even greater in his heart. They fumbled with clasps and bows as the sun gently fell over the horizon, the night sky becoming a curtain for their star crossed love.
She would never tell him that the Passion Red was a folklore; that its effect was the same for everyone whether they be true love or no. She knew she had no need for her lover was no fool. On this night however, neither cared for the truth. They were content to remain lost to the world in a field of passion.
