The Crimson Kisser

The Crimson Kisser

Killing him will be simple. Too simple. I have nearly completed the job and 

James is nowhere to be seen. 

Surely he was here tonight.

He would never miss a ball knowing that I am here

… 

Would he? 

“Is your head elsewhere?” Charles asks, and I realize it looks to him like I am 

gawking.

“Only on how handsome you look tonight, I get so lost looking at you” I can see 

his ego is growing, almost as much as my patience is waning. But I smile and feign an innocence I know he will like, it will make this whole ordeal much faster so that I may find James. 

No. 

I must forget James. He is not here, and he would only challenge me, try to stop 

me from what I must do. Why would I ever want him here? 

“I thought you one of the most beautiful girls on the dance floor tonight.” He 

pulls me away again with the compliments I know he does not mean. I did not dance.

You’re just like the others

I want to say. But I do not, because I never can, so I laugh. 

“You flatter me, Your Highness. I do not think I have ever met anyone as 

charming as you.” Other than fourteen of your cousins I killed, but you do not need to know that quite yet. 

“What do you say we abandon this wretched hallway and go somewhere more 

private?” He runs his finger up and down my arm, and that is my cue. I smile a smile that says I have never done such a thing, and nod a nod that says I am eager. Letting him step in front of me so he does not see the knife I pull out of my dress, I try to remember the last time this was so boringly simple. 

Goodbye Charles, you never stood a-

“Pardon me, Your Highness, how I hate to intrude. However, you are needed in 

the ballroom.” I freeze. I freeze because I know that voice, and I cannot tell whether I am happy or angry to hear it. 

“Can it not wait, James? I am very clearly busy.” Charles motions to me, and 

judging by the impatient look on his face and the annoyance in his voice, I do not think he sees the knife.

But to be fair it is past my dress,

And they never see past that.

“If that is what you want me to tell the Queen, then yes it can wait.” He knows the 

last thing I need is more people here, and I know for certain now I am not happy to see him. 

“It is alright Your Highness, I will find you later and we can continue our… 

conversation.” I smile, and while Charles still looks annoyed, he nods and walks towards the party I had just managed to steal him away from, no longer a simple task when the entire kingdom is after you. 

As soon as Charles is out of sight I take off the decorative masquerade mask 

covering my face, James follows suit. As he walks closer I see the look of smugness on his face, meaning he can see the rage on mine. 

I am angry. Angry because I wished for James. Angry because he thinks he won. 

Angry because I failed.

“Is anything wrong Crimson?” Crimson. Why James took it upon himself to give 

me such a name is beyond me. He is very clearly taunting the name the kingdom gave me, so not much original thought seemed to be put into it. At first I was flattered, delighted even at the possibility that he cared enough about me to give me what my so-called parents never believed I deserved. But hearing him say it now, taunting me with the fact that Charles got away. I am not so sure anymore that I enjoy it. 

“What could ever be wrong James? You merely interrupted a quiet conversation.” 

I look away, I will not let him think what he did had any real effect on my mission. 

“Oh please, like I would believe that The Crimson Kisser herself would ever have 

a quiet conversation.” When I turn to face him his arms are crossed and he looks unamused. I can change that. I prefer him to be angry.

“I had half a mind to believe you forgot I was the Crimson Kisser James, 

considering how comfortable you have gotten with me lately.” And there it is. I watch as his breathing quickens and he bites the skin inside his cheek, and suddenly I am not so angry anymore, just determined.

“I will never forget. And I will never be comfortable with you.” The way he says it 

pains me, because he says it as if it is true. 

But I know James. And I know he would not be so angry with what I said if he 

was not just as angry with himself, because my words hold weight.

“Then why are you merely standing there? Making no effort to arrest me, or kill 

me at that. Could it be because you do not want to?” He looks away, but I can still see the seething. I know I am getting somewhere by taunting, I just do not know if it is good, because there is a reason I have not killed him either. 

He must have read my mind, or perhaps I let my face slip, because his expression 

changed from anger to some sense of realization, and he turned to fully face me once again. 

“And what about you?” No.

“What about me?” How idiotic I sound, and he knows it. 

“You best me in every fight. Escape every masquerade no matter how hard I try. 

And yet, you always leave me alive. Could it be that you do not want to?” I do not reply, because what could I say?

I do not want to kill you because I fancy you James, but I killed twelve of your 

cousins and your brother, who I also happened to be engaged to. And by the way, I need to kill six more and then you, but what do you say we forget all of that and run away together?

I swallow the lump in my throat, hoping my thoughts are not as readable as they 

feel. I am not so stupid as to believe we could ever do such a thing, nor so stupid as to believe he would ever want to. I know it was a mistake to allow myself to get so close, but at this moment my only goal is to prolong his life, and I cannot do so if I continue to sabotage my mission just to have a moment with him.

I need to get him angrier. Blind him so much so that he attacks, and loses with 

minimal damage. Then I will find Charles and finish this, and never again will I give James the time of day to stop me. 

And I know just the way to do it.

I throw my knife at his feet. He switches his gaze from me to the weapon, 

confusion displayed on his features. Please let this succeed.

“What are you doing?” He asks, and to be quite honest I am not sure. But if it 

works, he can leave alive.

“I am turning myself in.” I am calling your bluff and praying your ego takes the 

reins. I put both my hands together in front of me, and his facial expression once again changes more to fear than to anger, but I continue regardless.

“No you are not.” 

“I am. Arrest me if you would like, kill me if you wish to save me from the masses. 

But whatever you choose, I will go willingly.” Now I feel him getting angrier, however he has yet to do anything. James has never been one to hesitate. 

“Stop this, you are acting a fool.” It seems as though he is talking to my hands 

and not me, because he refuses to look up from them, I continue regardless.

“I am simply making your life easier James, and all you have to do is accept it.” I 

motion to my arms, still held up and together. He finally looks up at me, but I do not see just anger, I see desperation and fear, the type that I feel. I want to stop. I want to lower my hands and close the gap. I want to do something that will stop him from feeling those things, because somehow it hurts more to see them on him than on me. But I know what will hurt worse, 

So I continue regardless.

“Just do it.” My voice comes out quieter than I need it to, almost a whisper, 

lacking the determination I need it to have. This is not how this is supposed to go. 

He still looks angry, but I do not think it is because of me. He grabs my wrists, 

only it is gentle, and as if he does not truly want to. I underestimated how difficult it would be to leave him this time.

But he does not move. He simply stands with my wrists in his hands, as if he is 

determining what to do next as much as I am, and he looks at me as if my eyes will give him the answer to what he should do, and I cannot look away.

“I think they are down this way.” What?

We both turn to the voices, and I know I have only  seconds before they see me.

If I am lucky.

I look back to him to see he is just as surprised, but I cannot risk it being a lie. For 

all I know this is his latest attempt at a trap. 

I remove my arms from his grasp and move to grab my knife, but before I can 

I feel an arm grab me from behind and pull me further down the hallway. The voices begin to fade, and it takes me a moment to realize that James is saving me. 

Why is James saving me? 

There is no doubt about it, I feel the urgency in his steps and the desperation in 

his grasp. He could have left me. He could have turned me in to the very people he works for. But he did not.

I cannot focus on anything now. I am certain that if James was not holding my 

arm I would have fallen, because I cannot even comprehend why he is holding my arm.

Before I even have more time to think, the voices have gotten louder, and it 

occurs to me that James does not know this castle. Luckily I studied its maps, so it is my turn to lead. 

“This way.” I step in front of him and make a sharp left, continuing the run until I 

see the outline of a door. 

Finally.

I push it open and we both run in, James slamming the door shut mere moments 

before the voices pass the room. I was so preoccupied, they were closer than I thought.

And so is James. My back is against the door to keep it shut, and James’ hand is 

resting against the door as well. When he catches his breath he looks at me, and I see when he notices how close he is to me, but he does not move. 

The only sound filling the quiet room is our breathing, and for a moment I feel as 

though I could forget my duties, my consequences, the fact that I was almost caught, because all I can think about is how James has never been this close to my face before, and he has never looked at me this way before, and why is he not moving away? 

“I think they are go-” I try to speak, but James cuts me off by kissing me. James is 

kissing me. James has never wanted to kiss me before, has he? 

His free hand finds the side of my face, so gentle and wanting, I do not know how 

I ever thought he could hate me. And suddenly I do not care why he decided to kiss me, because I want this too. 

My hands find his neck and his other finds my waist, and I cannot explain it, but 

it feels as though he has wanted to kiss me. It feels as though he has wanted this since the moment we met. As if he had to hold it back every second since then and he has finally let it out. I feel it too. I have wanted this, wanted him, for so long that I feared I would never stop wanting for as long as I live. 

And now I have it. I have his lips and his hands and his desires. I have everything. 

And just when I thought he would pull away, it was as if he could not bring 

himself to do so, and he came back to me with more, perhaps because we both know that this room is safe, the same way we both know that this room is not forever, but I do not wish to think about that. 

I do not know how I ever thought this could be wrong, nothing feels more right 

than him. The way his hands feel, so warm that I swear I could feel them through my dress, and if I could I know they would be soft, but just as wanting as the rest of him. And the way he kisses me, it is not just a longing caused by time, it is a longing caused by me. A longing that tells me he does not care about what I have done, he just cares about who I am, the woman I only let him see. 

And then he pulls away, putting his hands on each side of my face. Looking at 

him and having him truly look back is almost as good as kissing him. He licks his lips, and I listen to the sound of our breathing slowing down, letting me know it was not just in my head. 

I continue to look at him, because I do not know what else to do. There is no way 

to leave this room without everything changing, but there is no way to stay. 

“Well, this complicates things.” Yes James. More than you know.