“What?” She gave him a small giggle of confusion. “What did you do?”
His grin moved slowly across his face, reminding her of sun warmed honey. “It is not what I did, but rather, what Danika did.”
“Danika? What in the world did Danika do?”
A breeze stirred between them, smelling sweetly of flowers and rain soaked earth, though it never rained in here, the weather and setting was, nonetheless, always perfect.
“Seems her friend Baba Yaga helped her out once again and Crispin is now her problem.”
“Wait. What?” She rubbed her brow. “Baba Yaga? Like the Russian fairy tale witch?”
“Oh,” he chuckled, “Did I never tell you of my encounter with the witch? Well then, my pet, allow me to regale you.”
And so he did, making her laugh and chuckle along the way.
*
And for the next few years she and Robin grew closer than almost any two souls in the universe could. Learning not only each other’s hearts and likes, but the very core and heartbeat of themselves as well.
And there was always something new to discover, about him, about her, about who they were together.
And the curse that should have been a torture slowly evolved into a story far greater than their tale. He could never feel her touch, or her his, but the link that’d formed between them upon the lands of Kingdom grew richer. Deeper. And so vast it was endless.
Sometimes Robin would play the lyre for her until the sun rose. Other times he’d play and she’d dance to his tune. Even though she was a lousy dancer, he seemed to enjoy it. Some nights they’d talk about their lives, about growing up as children, and every once in a while, when the desires for more overtook them, they’d dare to dream about their future.
She as his queen, he as her eternally devoted mate.
And though it should not be possible that their union grew stronger without the melding of their bodies to enrich it, it was undoubtedly so.
Robin—now known only as Robin to her and his men, as he’d firmly established himself in his brother’s stead—was known as a great and powerful king. A true warrior and lion-heart for his subjects.
She laughed when he told her of the games he held each year, and how mothers far and wide from across the realm would try to turn his eye toward their daughters. She no longer doubted his devotion to her, though she was stuck in a world apart from his, she knew with all her mind, and soul that only she held the key to his heart.
And prisoner though she was, especially during the days when the isolation was long and desolate, and her body ached for his, she knew her nights would be just the opposite. He never failed to come to her. Taking off his ring, he’d approach her not as Crispin the king, but as Robin the man—the noble thief who’d stolen her heart.
Murmurings soon began to stir in the realm that the king’s heart was ensorcelled and that was why he’d refused all offers of marriage. Eventually, it’d been John who’d circulated the legend of the cursed Maid Marian.
With Danika’s help, they’d crafted a mirror that enabled an onlooker to see her. Robin had set the mirror in a prominent vantage point of his great hall every morning so that any member of his realm could look upon his truest love.
Nixie had been a little shy about it at first, but she’d soon learned to play up to her role. She could not look out, she could not interact with anyone, she didn’t know whether it was children, men, or women looking in on her, but she smiled and she kept herself busy. Humming beneath her breath, dressed in the fashion of his Kingdom, and slowly but surely the people of his realm grew to love the cursed princess trapped within the looking glass.
Every night, Robin had his guards take the mirror to his room. And so even as his legend grew, so did hers.
And in that manner the time between them grew, as did their love. Transforming from a mere thing of fiery passion to one deep and sure and unshakeable.
*
Halfway through her incarceration now, it was easier on her to deal with their arrangement. No longer did Nixie even think about not being able to touch Robin, or he her. Because their hearts had so completely melded and united as only two like hearts could.
“What did you do today, my lovely?” Robin asked her, plucking at a grape and popping it into his mouth.
Robin had discovered about five years ago that if he wanted to eat in her world, he could actually bring small items through in his secret pocket. The magic of the pocket broke the rules of this world in that, not only could Robin eat of it, but so could she.
She could grab hold of anything that came out of that pocket. And so each time he passed her an apple, to her, it was almost as good as a caress.
Nixie stole one of his grapes and plopped it on her tongue. Laughing when he growled at her.
“Thief,” he snorted.
“Well, you should know.” She swallowed the sweet fruit, then dusted her hands together. “You are the king of them after all.”