Part Of Your World by writerforever

She sits with him every morning at breakfast. She sleeps next to him in their king sized bed. She listens to his soft breathing as he sleeps. She admires the contours of his handsome face. She longs to reach out and run her fingers through his dark hair. But fear holds her back every time.

He is her husband and she his wife. But they are complete strangers. They are victims of an arranged marriage. He, who loving someone else, had been furious at the announcement that he was to marry a girl he didn't even know. And she, a young girl, longing for love and affection from anyone, had tried to accept the arrangement with joy.


They had first been introduced to each other at his family's estate. They had both been escorted to the flower garden and then they had been left alone, with their parents watching them from the palace windows.

It had been an awkward moment. Neither spoke for quite some time and walked around side by side pretending to admire the flowers.

Her heart had been pounding nervously and he was fuming on the inside.

"Listen, I know that you and I both don't want to go through with this but my parents say it is a…profitable arrangement. So we must do what we have to do," he said suddenly.

"Of course," she replied.

"Very well then. First we must set a few things straight. I don't know if you're aware that my heart lies with someone else. But I imagine we'll work around that somehow. We will live as…say…brother and sister and nothing more," he said.

She nods her head in agreement.

"Good, I'm glad we got that settled. Now if you'll excuse me," he said as he turned and exited the garden.


The wedding had been beautiful. She had worn a dress of white silk and a long flowing veil. Her long black hair had been swept up and she carried a bouquet of red roses in her hands.

He had been dressed in a dashing suite made just for that day. His dark hair was pushed back onto his head and his ice blue eyes were staring off out the nearby window, not on her as she walked down the aisle.

When the vows were said and he was told to kiss his bride he bent down slowly. Her heart began to pound and her cheeks turned crimson. His warm lips touched her cheek and did not linger as she wished they had.

Their wedding night had been nothing special. All of her young life she had dreamed of her wedding and wedding night, what it would all be like. But her real wedding turned out to be quite a disappointment.

She was escorted to the door of the royal bed chamber by her personal maid. Then she stepped inside the room and she found herself completely alone with him. He sat on the bed reading a book dressed in his night clothes. When she entered the room he glanced up and then went back to his reading.

Slowly she climbed into the bed next to him and they sat in silence. After an hour or so he closed his book and reached over and blew out the lamp that lit the room.

"Goodnight," he said as he turned his back to her with the covers pulled up around him.

"Goodnight," she whispered as silent tears caressed her face.


Now the days had turned into weeks and the weeks had turned into months. They lived as two strangers, hardly ever speaking and if they did speak the topic of the conversation was always about the weather or his business of running the estate that had been turned over to him by his father.

While he was away in his study she would venture to the library where a statue of him stood. There she would lean against the cold stone chest and weep tears of grief and longing. She would kiss the stone lips and imagine that it was his warm lips upon hers.

She would hide behind the knight statue that set right next to the door of his study and wait for him to emerge. When he would finally emerge from the room she would follow him and watch him wherever he went. He did not know this for he always kept himself very busy.

At night as they would lay in bed side by side, but not touching, she would get the urge to lay upon his chest and feel the warmth of his body. She longed to touch his tan skin and feel the softness of it beneath her fingertips.

Oh how she dreamed of him and longed for his touch!

Her heart would leap with joy if he just looked upon her. She would dance if he spoke a single word to her. Her day was made complete if their hands brushed against each other at the dinner table.

She was in love, in love with her husband.

But he was totally unaware of this. His heart was cold and filled with bitterness. His mind was still upon the one he had had to leave behind. He buried himself in his work so as to not get distracted by anything, so as to not feel his pain.


During the day she would go to the flower garden and lay in the green grass and clutch the small painting of him that had been painted for her by a local artist. He had one of her as well but he always kept it hidden away in his personal belongings chest.

Holding up the painting so she can admire it better, she smiles fondly. She has memorized the contours of his face, the way his lips are shaped, and the way his hair falls stubbornly over his forehead.

If only you would notice me. If only you would love me as I love you.

Oh how I long to be part of your world! To be where you are. To be within your heart.To feel you upon me. To feel your hands upon my body. To feel your lips upon mine. I would die if it would make you love me. I would do anything if…


The dark ocean waters are choppy. She stands at the edge of the cliff looking down at the troubled waters. She has lived for so long without his love, without his attention. She cannot bear it any longer.

She told him she loved him but he had turned her away.

"I thought we were agreed that we would not love each other as husband and wife? My heart is still with someone else and…I cannot love you," he had said after she had made her love known to him.

His words had stabbed her in the heart and caused tears of grief to fill her eyes. She had fled from the room and had made her way to the ocean shores.

In her hand she holds the painting of him. She kisses it and slowly steps closer to the edge of the cliff.

I will go so that you may live with the one you truly love.

But if only you would have let me love you. I would have comforted you. I would have done anything for you. If only you would have let me been part of your world…

She throws herself off the cliff and falls gracefully to the choppy waters where sharp jagged rocks pierce her body.

The End