Chapter 19
Henriette should’ve known the picnic was doomed the second Arin showed up in boots.
The whole point was to relax, bare feet in the grass, soft wine, laughter under the elm like he used to with the real Queen before all the hate, but there he stood, back straight as a lance, boots laced up to his knees and a sword hanging unnecessarily from his hip like he was bracing for battle.
“This was meant to be... casual,” she said, glancing down at his outfit.
“I wasn’t sure what to expect.” He looked around the garden like it might bite him. “It’s a bit... staged.”
Henriette forced a smile. “You used to like it here.”
He didn’t answer. Just followed her to the blanket she’d laid out beneath the tree. The food was still warm: pastries, cheeses, strawberries, and the wine. She'd gone all out. She had to. She was hoping the picnic would loosen him up a bit…
He sat with a stiffness that made the blanket seem too small for both of them. She passed him a goblet of wine.
“You don’t have to drink it,” she said quickly. “Just… try.”
Arin took it with a nod and set it aside.
Henriette reached for a strawberry, pressing her thumb into its ripe skin. “You once told me I looked like a goddess under this tree. You said I ruined you with just a smile.”
“Did I?” He smiled faintly. “Sounds dramatic.”
“You were dramatic,” she said, more softly than she intended. “You were passionate. Unfiltered. You didn’t care what people thought as long as I was laughing.” she recalled his own memories locked in her mind.
He looked at her then, really looked, and for a second something flickered in his eyes—recognition, maybe. But it faded.
“That version of me… I don’t know how to be him again.”
“You don’t have to be him,” she said quickly. “I’m not asking for old Arin. I’m asking for you, now. This version. Whatever that looks like.”
He picked up a piece of bread and broke it in half, more for something to do with his hands than any real hunger. “You make it sound easy.”
“It’s not,” she admitted. “But I’d rather have your awkward silences and hesitant glances than nothing at all.”
He looked down at the bread. “That’s generous of you.”
Henriette gave a short laugh. “No, it’s desperate. I don’t know how to live in this castle with a version of you who doesn’t want me.”
His head snapped up. “That’s not fair. I didn’t say I don’t want you.”
She blinked. “Then what is it?”
“I want to know you first,” he said. “You’re beautiful, Henriette. And kind. And terrifying when you want to be. But I don’t know you. Not in here.” He tapped his temple. “And without that… everything feels wrong.”
Henriette bit her lip. “So what, you want to start over? Pretend we’ve never kissed? Never made love?”
“I don’t want to pretend anything,” he said softly. “I want to be honest with you. With myself.”
She looked away, throat tight.
“I see how much you remember. And I hate that I can’t meet you there.”
They sat in silence for a while, the wind tugging gently at the corners of the blanket. A bird chirped overhead. The wine sat untouched.
Eventually, Henriette rose and brushed off her dress. “We should go in. The clouds are coming.”
Before they reached the castle, it started to rain. King Arin was like a young child in the rain. He does not remember what rain feels like when it drips onto your bare skin. Henriette watched him with closed eyes, head tilted to the sky as the rain poured down on them. He swirled in circles with laughter. Henriette decided to join in. She can't remember the last time she was in the rain.
Out of breath, they both came to a halt, just looking at each other. Unexpectedly, King Arin closed the gap between them. Henriette looked up into his eyes and hoped that he would kiss her.
But the kiss never came. Instead of a kiss, he slipped his arm around her and started to walk towards the castle.
That night, the candles in her chamber burned low, throwing soft shadows across the walls. She’d bathed and brushed out her hair, chosen the robe he used to love, thin silk, pale gold, nearly translucent in the firelight.
She wasn’t trying to seduce him. Not exactly. She just wanted his muscle memory to remember.
When the door creaked open, her heart jumped.
Arin stepped inside, looking unsure. “You asked to see me?”
“I did.”
He looked around the room, then back at her. “You look... radiant.”
Her pulse fluttered. “I hoped you’d say that.”
She walked toward him, barefoot, each step slow and quiet.
“I’m not trying to trap you,” she said. “But I need something from you. Anything. A sign that you’re still mine.”
He swallowed. “Henriette...”
“I’m not asking for love. Or even lust. Just honesty.” She stood close enough to touch him now, her voice trembling. “When you look at me, do you feel nothing?”
“No.” His voice cracked. “That’s the worst part. I do feel something. I just don’t know if it’s real… or just muscle memory.”
Her hand rose to his chest, resting over his heart. “Does this feel real?”
He looked down at her fingers. “Yes. It does.”
She tilted her face toward him. “Then kiss me.”
His eyes searched hers. “If I do… it’ll be harder to stop.”
“Then don’t stop,” she whispered.
But he pulled back.
Gently. Almost apologetically.
“I want to,” he said. “God, I want to. But if I give in now, it’ll be because I’m caught up in the moment, not because I remember you. Or because I chose you.”
Tears burned her eyes, but she nodded. “So… what now?”
He reached for her hand and brought it to his lips. A soft kiss. Chaste. Tender.
“Now, I ask if you’ll tell me how we met. And maybe tomorrow, you’ll tell me what made you fall for me.”
She stared at him, blinking hard. “And the next day?”
“The next day… I’ll try to fall again.”
He left before she could say anything else, the door clicking shut behind him.
Henriette stood there in silence, heart aching, firelight flickering over skin he hadn’t touched.
She could fight for him, yes. She would. But not like this.
Tomorrow, she’d tell him the queen's story as her own. She has accepted, for now, that this is her life, this ancient time. And the sooner she accepts it the better, but now to get the king to want her. She realised that she does not have to pretend to be Queen Henriette. She realised that maybe instead of trying to make him fall for a queen, she could make him fall for her, Henriette, the woman from a modern time, a different world.