Time on scaffold- Part 3

"There are other things to look at. Stop looking at me," her words came out tired and this only brought smile on Calhoun's lips. Unable to resist the man, Madeline finally turned her head to look at him.

"I was looking at your dress. It fits too perfectly," he complimented her, his line of sight moving down from her neck to her bossom and then to her waist before he looked down at the flowing skirt.

"I was made to fit into it," replied Madeline. It was hard to breathe in the dress that she wore. The head maid had tightened the corset to such and extent that she was sure she was going to faint if she didn't change her clothes to a much freer one soon where she would be able to breathe.

"Come here," said Calhoun, moving around to face her and Madeline gave him a look of surprise.

"No, I am fine," she didn't want his help.

"Stop being stubborn," rolled Calhoun eyes, "I don't want you passing out. If you pass out before going to visit your father's shop don't expect I will wait for you to return to your consciousness because I will bring you back to the castle right away," he said in a serious tone.

Madeline stared at Calhoun whilst he waited, and she then asked, "What are you going to do?" The corset was inside the dress she wore.

"I have experience in it," saying this, Calhoun pulled Madeline closer to him as she was taking her own sweet time questioning him with a dubious look in her eyes. Placing both his hands on her lean waist, he pulled her even close before leaning forward.

Why did it feel like he was taking advantage of the situation? Asked Madeline to herself, her heart beating in her chest at the closeness that they shared in the closed space of the carriage.

"Is it because you have been with many women?" she asked, trying to distract herself and let him know she knew about his debauchery.

"You are right," he admitted like it was nothing great, "Your words sound jealous," he whispered next to her ear as his head was next to hers, leaning forward as his hands moved upwards and when Madeline placed her hand on his chest, wanting to push him, his grip on her waist tightened.

"W-what are you doing? You said you would help," her voice sounded alarmed because of his hands that were above her waist right now.

Madeline felt nervous with his arms around her and she was ready to jump out of the carriage, but Calhoun had placed one hand on her lower back so that she wouldn't move. And the other hand moved behind her back Madeline felt his lips close to her ears, his nose near her hair.

She didn't know if she was going to faint because of the corset, or because of him.

"Did I mention you smell like a flower?" he asked her. Yes, he had before, thought Madeline to herself. She wished he could help her quickly but knowing Calhoun he would take his own time.

And it was true.

The truth was that Calhoun didn't need her this close, to help her with the corset. He now had his hands on her back and one hand running on her back. How could he lose an opportunity of staying close to her when it presented to him like a favourite meal placed on his plate to grab and devour.

With every trace of his fingers over her back, Madeline felt her breath hitch and then suddenly she felt the corset loosen so that she could finally able to breathe some more air into her lungs. Calhoun pulled his hand and head away to look at her.

"Better?" he asked, and Madeline who had first doubted his ability nodded her head, speechless that he had not pulled out any strings to loosen them.

She couldn't stop staring at Calhoun, a faint satisfied smile playing on his lips, "How did you do that?"

"Tricks of the fingers I guess?" he answered being vague about it and pleased to see the curiosity that continued to lurk in her eyes. Calhoun didn't even need to touch her to loosen the strings of her corset, but he wanted to have her in his arms. His lips twisted, and he moved back to his original place he had been sitting with his back against the seat of the carriage, "What did you do with the rose?"

He was asking about the rose he had plucked out in the garden last morning. "I placed it in a glass of water."

"Interesting. I was expecting you to throw it away," he said to have her frown.

"Why would I do that? The flower didn't do anything to me."

"But I have," came the quick words from Calhoun.

Both of them knew what Madeline's incomplete words meant where she didn't continue with it at the thought that it would come out to be rude, and she didn't want to test her luck with him.

Instead of speaking about her thoughts and feelings, Madeline decided to shift the conversation, "You can keep a flower fresh by changing the water every day. It will let the flower live and keep its freshness for a longer time."

"Once the flower starts losing its freshness, you can keep it between the pages of parchments," added Calhoun, "Something to remember as the first present which is not materialistic. Something of your kind," he hummed before looking ahead of him, his eyes shifting to look outside.

Madeline didn't fuel the conversation, and decided to keep her thoughts to herself. She looked forward to seeing her family, but before that she would have to witness the execution. When they finally reached her village, which took thirty more minutes before the carriage came to a halt.

The door of the carriage was opened by the coachman, and Calhoun was the first one to step out. And as much as she was eager to visit her village, somewhere Madeline's hands turned clamy with sweat by the thought that there were people who knew her and they would see her like this.

Noticing Madeline hesitate, Calhoun, raised his hand forward for her,

"Don't be scared. I am here with you."

His words didn't ease her nerves. She told herself that there was nothing to fear about. She finally placed her hand in his, stepping out of the carriage to place her foot down on the ground. She took a deep breath as her eyes moved across the crowd that had gathered today around the scaffold.

The weather today was gloomy with the clouds that hovered up in the sky, unlike yesterday, where the sun was bright. The villagers didn't have to wait for the King to step down as the carriage was enough to let a person know that someone significant was here.

The villagers couldn't stop looking at the King as they had not seen him before. Their curiosity piqued further when they saw a human who stood behind him, and to some, she looked familiar. It was because they couldn't point out on who she was as she wore highly refined clothes and jewels on her that increased her existing beauty.

"Bow down to the King!" said a man and everyone who had gathered near the scaffold and including the ones who were far away, bowed their head to pay respect to the King of Devon.