Crimson's Captivation Read Online Free Page A

and Crimson made love under a willow as the sun
lowered in the sky and sparkled in ginger flame across the waves of
Lake Karlberg. The world seemed to drift away. It seemed to
dissolve into a sentient mist that dewed their naked bodies. It was
a dance of persuasion. His palm, having barely enough force to move
a feather, caressed the small of her back, the nape of her neck.
His mouth found the lobes of her ears, the tenderness of her lips,
and the firmness of her nipples. His slightest touch became a
powerful suggestion, which pulled her deep onto him. Interlocked
fingers guided them to the same starting place, encircling one
another, face to face, foot over foot. They were dancers in the
innate waltz. And then Viktor’s explosion, it forever changed the
verdant meadows of the boy within. It opened him to the world a man
perceives.
    Afterward, they enjoyed the afterglow as they
leaned against the willow trying to assign words to the feelings,
trying to decipher their new world. Unable to put it to words, he
gifted Crimson a necklace, a gold chain with a single diamond,
saying it only had one diamond because he only had one heart to
give. She turned her naked back and asked that he clasp the
necklace around her neck, saying she wished the clasp would
magically fuse so that it could never be removed.
    The next day, Viktor was late getting to the
willow for their planned meeting. The sun had disappeared hours
earlier, he had hoped Crimson would still be there but she wasn’t.
He understood: it was foolish to be caught outside the palace walls
after dark. When he arrived at the palace the following morning,
Crimson was nowhere to be found and he knew something was wrong. No
one had seen her and with the homeland’s preparation for war, all
efforts were dedicated to assisting Sweden’s allies. No one seemed
to care that she was missing. He cared, and he set out on his own
to find her.
    He feared she had been taken prisoner by
Denmark forces or worse, had fallen victim to dark princes that
sheltered in the shadows of the forest. He also considered the
possibility that the reported bands of roving marauders, consisting
of deserters, exiled farmers, and criminals, were no longer on the
fringe of the kingdom's border but were now in the interior. Maybe they had taken her. Maybe they were holding her for
ransom.
    On the fourth day of his search, he found her
chestnut gelding near the province of Bolstomta. He checked the
animal for injuries, for signs of a scuffle, but the animal was in
perfect health. Crimson was known to have stayed in the Bolstomta
at times during the summer. He tethered the horse to his own and
rode into the village.
    Many of the men from the village had, months
ago, been swept away to war. The sight of a young man, and a man of
obvious nobility, excited the mothers and they rushed their
daughters out for his inspection. One mother far too eagerly lifted
her daughter into the air; the child fell and landed on the path
before Viktor’s horse. The young girl felt sullied, embarrassed,
and looked to her mother for direction as she sat in the dirt.
    Viktor dismounted, lifted the child from the
ground, brushed the soil from her cheeks, back, and kissed her
forehead. He patted her on the back and guided her toward her
mother. He grilled the womenfolk, focusing on the elder women and
their network of gossip.
    “My dear women this gelding belongs to
Crimson of Karlberg. It is of grave importance that I speak with
her and I know she has stayed here before. Has anyone seen
her?”
    The growing crowd heard his question but none
answered. The men of their village were off on the Baltic Sea or on
foreign lands giving their lives as conscripts. The remaining men
in the village were of little brawn; they were mostly earth and
grime, old age, and lacked that which offered any future for the
young women. This young man was refined, commanding, and groomed.
There was a power and a sense of confidence about him.
    Most of the