Vinca
Unpinning her hair in front of the mirror, Vinca examined her face for tell-tale signs. But her milk-white cheeks bore no hint of a flush. She stared harder, maybe there was a slight twinkle in her eyes, but surely nothing her mother or sisters would notice. She touched one of her bird claws hands against her plump lower lip, allowing herself the indulgence of remembering Millville’s warm mouth pressed against hers.
He’d been gentle at the outset, but Vinca had responded eagerly to his kiss. His fervour had increased and he’d clasped her to him, with one hand cupping the back of her head to bring her closer. Her excitement had spiralled, like smoke up a chimney. They had moaned, their breaths mingling as their tongues slid against each other. It felt peculiar, but thrilling and she wanted to lose herself in the heady elation of his wild caresses.
One moment they had been walking, the dappled gold of sunlight flickering against her skin as their progress took them through the trees, the next Millville had grasped her hand and pulled her close. He looked at her in a way that sparked something within, an understanding of a question he had not spoken, yet she’d leaned towards him to demonstrate her answer was ‘yes’.
Just a handful of stolen kisses, that’s all it had taken. Now her outlook on the world was changed, every thought and idea seemed overshadowed and re-shaped by her passion for Millville and the confounding discovery that he burned for her. With her emotions awoken, Vinca felt flushed and dizzy.
When she’d walked away from Millville, branded with his love, she’d been sure anyone who saw her would guess what had transpired.
A bell sounded downstairs, and Vinca startled. Food was being set out for her family to dine; the unruly clatter of her sisters’ feet on the stairs reinforced the message. She double-checked her clothes for tell-tale moss stains or clinging leaves. Once satisfied that her appearance was that of a normal faery teenager, despite feeling quite the opposite, Vinca joined her mother and sisters at the table.
“How were lessons?” her mother asked.
Vinca’s youngest sister, Gayenne, launched into a discussion of what she’d learned about the lunar cycle.
Vinca ate only a few bites of food. She felt oddly stripped of hunger, putting that down to the swarm of butterflies that had taken up residence in her stomach. Her older sister was similarly quiet, asking only for water to be passed down the table. Vinca scrutinised Bryony’s face, hoping her clandestine romance was not suspected.
Bryony felt herself watched, and turned her face to quirk one lilac eyebrow. Silently asking, “What?”
Vinca minutely shook her head. Bryony got the message, dropping her gaze to her plate to continue eating. Vinca hoped this exchange did not mean her older sibling’s suspicions were alerted. Gayenne, having exhausted lunar cycles, was now quizzing their mother about the planned celebrations for the next full moon.
“May I leave the table?” Vinca blurted, bringing that conversation to a halt.
“Of course child,” her mother dabbed at thin lips with a napkin, “but you’ve barely touched your food.”
“I’ve had all I need,” Vinca replied, already pushing away from the table.
She felt Bryony’s curious eyes watching as she climbed the stairs.
Back in her bedchamber, two house brownies were at work. One tidied her hair brushes and hung up her dresses while the other sat cross-legged on the floor, darning holes in her stockings.
“I’d like to be alone,” Vinca announced.
The elves responded instantly, slightly reproachful at being unable to complete their tasks.
Vinca pulled a chair close to the window, rested her forehead against the glass, then let her eyes settle, unfocused on the middle distance. A maelstrom of thoughts swirled in her consciousness, emotions and moral questions, stirred up by recent events, crowded to be given consideration.
She had known Millville for many years. They had grown up together and still shared some lessons, although he was more frequently undertaking military training nowadays. He had always been courteous and considerate, and in the past had taken on the mantle of her protector when Bryony got spiteful, or his brothers played too roughly.
They shared a love of horses and frequently rode out together, through the surrounding woodland, sometimes galloping wild races that took them as far as the coast. Once at the sea’s edge, the pair would let the horses have their heads. Running through the salt-water shallows is good for horses’ muscles, but also exhilarating for the young faeries riding them.
On horseback, Vinca liked to unfasten her hair, letting her long beetroot locks trail behind her like a flag. The seaspray often shaped Millville’s red-gold hair into damp curls against his temples. On recent rides, Vinca had sensed they were balancing on the edge of something indefinable as their connection expanded and grew. Still, Millville’s kiss had taken her by surprise.
Millville was from a non-magical, courtly family: Raised with the certainty that he was destined for great things. The magic Vinca and her mother could conjure tended to make other fae folk suspicious, this kept her family on the edges of court society.
Vinca’s breath had fogged up the glass, but she noticed movement in her peripheral vision. Someone was waiting on the grass outside her home. She moved her head to a clear part of the pane: It was Millville, beckoning for her to join him. She pulled boots from under her bed, grabbed her cloak from a hook, and tiptoed downstairs, carefully avoiding those treads which squeaked. Once safely outside the door, she pulled on her boots, but fumbled to tie their laces, before she could hurry to Millville’s side.
“My horse is by the stables, can you join me for a ride?” His voice was deep, his expression eager.
Vinca barely needed to nod, before he grabbed her hand to run.
He had already instructed the toad who worked in the stables to saddle her grey mare, and in no time Vinca was on its back, and they were cantering away. Excitement tightened her throat. She thrilled to be free, watching trees and hedgerows speed past. Her horse’s mane tickled her birdclaw hands and the warmth of its flanks seeped through the long gown she wore.
“Where are we going?” she called.
Millville only laughed. “Does it matter?”
She supposed it didn’t. He wanted to be alone with her, and she desired the same. Yet, when they reached a glade of trees on the edge of a meadow, she became tentative and shy. They dismounted, tethering their horses in a cloying silence. But when Vinca turned to him, the fire behind his eyes scorched away her nerves. In its place, she experienced a heady brand of power from knowing she evoked his admiration and desire. Plus, this was a meeting of minds and hearts, the attraction had become a tide too strong for her to swim against.
This time, their frantic kisses led to touches, hands and mouths eagerly exploring each other’s skin, hungry to familiarise themselves with their bodies. They quickly shed their clothes so they could slide together. Millville’s caresses were gentle but assured, licking like hot flames over her sensitive skin. She hummed with anticipation and leaned into him. Despite her naivety, it seemed her body knew the steps to this dance if she let Millville take the lead. As their passion built, her caution diminished. Vinca surrendered to her needs, the incandescent craving for connection: Seeking deeper, more intimate contact, until finally they clung together, fused as one. At that moment, she thought her heart would burst.
When their bodies had stopped moving and their breathing was more steady, Millville lovingly surveyed her face, brushing a tear from her lashes with concern.
“I hope I didn’t hurt you?” he tilted Vinca’s chin to gaze into her eyes.
“No,” she shook her head, “not after the first …” She trailed off, worried it was unladylike to discuss such intimate things. “It was thrilling. Was it good for you?”
Uncertainty dragged at her, threatening to leech the pleasure from what had transpired. Questions clamoured: Had she responded as she should, was he satisfied?
“It was everything! I’ve dreamed of claiming you for so long,” Millville sighed deeply.
Vinca sagged with relief. She would have preferred to stay silent, savour the little aftershocks with her head buried safely against his neck, but he still held her chin, forcing her to make eye contact. She regarded the sunburst of gold that ringed his pupils and the slight smile that bent his lips upwards.
“You never said,” she whispered.
“I didn’t dare.” His thumb stroked the back of her wrist. “Plus, you know my Uncle’s views about family and honour. He would scorn the idea of a love match.” He pressed a kiss to her bruised lips. “But I have received my first commission, and I couldn’t leave without showing you how I felt.”
Leaving? Fear clutched Vinca, dread trailed icy fingers down her spine.
“Must you go away? Will you have to fight?”
“Yes, and no,” Millville gently wound a lock of her burgundy hair around his fingers. “It’s a diplomatic exercise to strengthen our alliance with Aquatora.”
Vinca shuddered. She had a long-standing distrust of the Aquatoreans, folk from under the sea, but she didn’t share this with Millville. His response was to draw her cloak over them and hold her slender body closer. Whispering sweet nothings, he nuzzled her neck and cupped her breasts. His thumbs trailed over her nipples, awaking more tingles and sensations within. His touches sparked to her core, driving mundane worries to the back of her mind.
But on the day Millville had to leave, they met in what had become their secret spot. Vinca handed him a talisman. She’d crafted it from a disc of polished stone and a bead of coral. Both were threaded onto a leather thong. She’d consulted her family grimoire and enchanted the talisman with a protection charm and a spell to bring him safely home.
Despite this, she clung to him, tears wetting her cheeks as they kissed and bid each other goodbye.
“Take care, hurry home, don’t be a hero,” she begged him, her mind filled with a dread she dared not voice.
To be continued
© Jacinta Palmer 2026, written by a human and not AI
A most powerful, fun, and lovely story. Wonderful!