Page 69 of Love Unscripted
Camille tried to focus on the words, but she was intensely aware of him. Of his hand resting inches from hers. Of the way his knee grazed hers when he shifted.
“If I perish, I perish,” she whispered, the words catching slightly in her throat.
Aaron’s gaze lifted from the page to her face.
Neither of them spoke.
The silence stretched—fragile and electric.
Finally, he cleared his throat and continued reading, though his voice had roughened now, softer and lower around the edges as he read of the king’s favor, the extended scepter, the invitation to the banquet… the promise of something still unfolding.
By the time they finished, the air between them felt charged with something neither of them was ready to name.
Chapter 12
As the sun filtered through the grand set, casting a warm glow over the opulent throne room designed for their film, Aaron adjusted his costume as King Xerxes, feeling the weight of the crown resting on his brow. Across from him, Camille, embodying Queen Esther, shimmered in her exquisite gown, her presence commanding yet soft. They had discussed it before. She was clear on how he wanted her to play the scene. He was trusting that she was going to follow his lead. This entire week she had been good. The air was thick with anticipation; today’s scene was pivotal.
“Action!” called Aaron, and the world around them faded as they slipped into their characters.
The throne room was quiet in the way only power could command—no sound but the soft rustle of silk and the measured breath of courtiers who dared not shift their weight.
Esther stood at the threshold, the light catching the gold thread woven through her gown. Camille held herself still, every instinct urging her forward and holding her back all at once. Courage and caution braided tightly together.
Xerxes looked up.
Aaron let the pause linger—just long enough.
His eyes traced her, not crudely, not greedily, but with a kind of wonder that surprised even him. This was not merely a queen before him. This was a woman who had learned the weight of silence—and chosen, at last, to speak.
He leaned forward slightly. “What is it, Queen Esther?” His voice softened, dropping from command to invitation. “What is your request? Even up to half the kingdom, it will be given you.”
Esther met his gaze. Camille let her breath hitch—just enough for the camera to catch it.
“If it pleases the king,” she said, her voice steady but warm, “let the king—together with Haman—come today to the banquet I have prepared for him.”
A murmur rippled through the court, but Xerxes heard nothing beyond her.
Aaron allowed a slow smile to touch his mouth—private, almost intimate, as if they alone understood the game being played.
“You honor me,” he said, rising from the throne. As he descended the steps, his tone lowered further. “It seems my queen has a talent for timing.”
Their eyes held.
For a moment, the court disappeared. King and queen stood suspended between public duty and something unspoken—curiosity, admiration, a pull neither named.
Esther inclined her head, but not her eyes. “I only hope the king will find the evening… pleasing.”
Xerxes extended his hand—not to touch her, but close enough that the air between them felt charged.
“I always do,” he replied. “When you are involved.”
Aaron knew that the scene had come to a close and it was his job to yell “Cut!” but neither of them moved, lost in the moment. The chemistry was undeniable, a magnetic pull that ignited the air around them.
Eventually, he blinked and stepped away. He cleared his throat and yelled, “Cut!”
“Let’s reset for the next take,” Aaron said, but his eyes never left Camille’s.
As the crew shifted around them, Aaron and Camille remained connected, their expressions softening. “That was wonderful. Perfect really,” he said, his voice low and filled with sincerity, the king’s facade slipping away.
