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It’s already midnight in the Penitent’s End, the Troupe of Fools are all deeply asleep. However, from the outside a dim and flickering light can be seen behind the curtains of their beloved captain’s room. Inside it, two bodies are sharing a steady rhythm, each breath comes out heavy, each movement is made with purpose, intent.
Carlotta’s unfazed expression has long abandoned her face, a rush of pleasure hits her, still, she keeps her mouth shut, she bites her lip, just to make sure no indecent sound can escape her mouth. Brant looks at her, at the woman on top of him, naked, looking as beautiful as he ever tells her she is.
Lust, no, better said, desire can be clearly seen, desire combined with something he isn’t afraid to admit, love, a love so sincere it makes his heart stop, when Carlotta’s eyes look at him and he says to himself it’s love, even if he knows it isn’t.
He knows the truth, when the final strokes are done, when Carlotta’s had all the pleasure she seeks from him she will put her ever so elegant clothes back on, brush her hair and fix her makeup. A luxurious black car with tainted windows will be waiting for her to escort her back to the Montelli Mansion with discretion.
No one will ever suspect she has been out for the night, holding back his name in her throat. As Carlotta’s hips dance in a mesmerizing rhythm and his hands land on her waist, Brant can’t help but scold himself.
He’s got Rinascita’s most desired and powerful woman all for himself, crashing her lips carelessly with his. All her movements and gestures are relentless, intense, the presumed delicacy and subtleness of a woman of her status are nowhere to be seen when she sets foot in his room. Every kiss leaves a bruise, every held back moan leaves a scar. He has to settle for subtle sighs, demands like “don’t stop now” “faster” whispered into his ear, marks the woman’s nails leave in his back.
If someone other than his room’s walls and Carlotta herself knew about this he would be called a “champion” by the men, hell some would even dare to make loatheful comments “Ooh, how does the Montelli Princess fuck?” “Lucky bastard, she’s got to give head like a real slut” “ask her if she’s into threesomes".
How he despised that kind of…beings, he would not even call them men. Carlotta was so much more than an empty shell, a beautiful body. She was the most intelligent woman Brant knew, her smile exuded confidence not to be confused with arrogance.
It was the prettiest smile he had ever seen. The passion her voice carried when she talked about art, appreciating even the smallest details somebody else’s eyes would miss or not pay attention to.
Oh, and her eyes, probably Brant’s favourite feature of hers, how they squinted she focused on a specific task, how they looked at the horizon from Brant’s window before she left. Carlotta Montelli was a powerful woman but she was also a young woman who had been tasked with leading an Empire.
She had insecurities, fears, doubts. She always put her family’s name first, even before herself. Brant had seen her silently struggle, nervous over a decisive meeting, angry when plans didn’t go the way they were supposed to.
She had allowed herself to be weak a few times in Brant’s room, while he hugged her from behind, telling her everything would turn out just fine. Brant let her do that, discharge the heavy burden off her shoulders onto his carpeted floor as she took off her clothes. Some would say he did it because he was a fool, but the right answer would be he did it out of love, appreciation, awareness of the difficulties and pressure Carlotta faced every day.
Even if he knew they would never have breakfast together the next morning. Even if he knew Carlotta did not give him one more second than what she wanted to. Even if there were scarce moments where she would not rush to put her clothes back on and instead, she would stay in bed, with his arms around her, looking at him just like tonight
“You said you were leaving” Brant smiled weakly, both of their bodies were stained by sweat but still pressed together
“How could I when you keep looking at me like that?” Carlotta said in a tone Brant would describe as “almost-soft”
He let out a short laugh “Ha... like what?”
The woman’s eyes lost sharpness, but just enough to avoid appearing tender or caring “Like you don’t want me to leave", she answered in a blunt tone.
Brant talked without thinking, a question, with a playful tone but coming out bitter than intended “When did that ever stop Miss Carlotta Montelli from leaving?”
Carlotta stayed silent for a few seconds, she let out a quick breath, “Ever so dramatic, captain. I’ll see you next week”
Of course Brant thought, every time they met was under her conditions, she settled the date, the time, the duration of the encounter, she was still in control even when her hair was messy and her lipstick had long disappeared.
Brant played a dangerous, toxic game where only Carlotta knew the rules, it was her game and he was just a piece whose very action was determined by her wants and desires. His heart was pending in a string which happened to be in Carlotta’s own hand for her to toy with. She had the extraordinary power of breaking and rearranging the pieces of the captain’s heart to her pleasure. And Brant was in love, madly in love, dangerously in love.
Once, a long time ago, an “I love you” traveled from his lips to Carlotta’s ears faster than he could process it and Carlotta stopped moving, stopped kissing his neck, roaming her hands over his body.
She looked him dead in the eye, a sharp, short and cold “I suggest you don’t” hit Brant harder than he thought it would.
He complied, timidly shook his head “Yeah, sorry I don’t know why I said that”
Of course he knew, his heart knew, his mind knew but he lied, just to be able to savor the moments they shared. Nevertheless, Carlotta’s fingers were slowly moving his hair from his face, slowly, almost caringly, or so he thought.
Each kiss left a mark in his body, and not only in his lips. Each time Carlotta walked out of the room without sparing him one last glance which could get his hopes up, make him misunderstand their relationship hurt him a bit more. Carlotta finally stood up, put her clothes back on, went to Brant’s desk, opened one of the drawers which had a brush, and a little mirror especially put there for Carlotta to use whenever she left.
Brant could only watch from his bed which felt colder now that her body wasn’t gracing its sheets. Carlotta’s eyes drifted, just a second, to have a glance of him from the mirror. She took her purse and her feet were already at the door.
“Brant, before you go out, please, take off the remains of my lipstick, someone could notice”
Brant’s hand went to his lips, caressing the exact spot where Carlotta’s lipstick still stuck. “Yeah, no need to worry, see you next week Carlotta”
She didn’t speak more than necessary and just left. Brant watched from his window as her car left the place. He washed his face and took off Carlotta's lipstick before preparing for the day. He said to himself that was all he could get and all he would ever ask for.
He did not ask his heart, fearing it would break at the question “Is this what you want?” that was nonsense, that was all he would ever be able to have.