“How much did you see? Enough to make judgments on my temper.” Holding his eyes felt burdensome for the first time as they bore into her heavily, but she did not give in. She also made no attempt to speak; she had learned long ago that if you gave a person silence, they would reveal more than they intended. Noelle liked mind tricks. “I propose that you don’t disregard the circumstance that was before me.”

Finally, her gaze softened, irritatingly comfortable in what felt to her a moment of intensity. She should have known better, considering that she had pursued the man on his quest to find placidity, leaving him no time to cool off. Yet, part of her wanted to believe his anger was a facade, though she hadn’t met a man who didn’t have it. Sadly, she thought, she may have been wrong about him. Or perhaps she was wrong to cast judgment on others so quickly and definitely. “The circumstance that was before you?” Her eyes were mischievous, begging him to elaborate for no purpose at all. “Do I dare ask you to elaborate, mister..?” She still hadn’t gotten his name, which ruined the suaveness of her delivery--at least in her mind.

“I apologize, princess. This is not your predicament to barter with but my own. I suspect I am territorial over you, wanting to shield you from the bitter words of those men. I will gladly accompany you if I am still welcomed.”

She sighed softly with something of a muted disappointment. She chose to spend time with people who were different than the rest, oddities and outcasts who could challenge her intellectually, spiritually, physically, academically; in any way possible, she wanted to be dared. Much to her dismay, none of these suitors had dared her, except perhaps the one from the woods. And for a moment, she had thought the man before her was not only someone who would match her compassion, her intellect, her charisma, but someone who would be eligible for her to marry.

She was still processing emotion as she strode out to the garden beside the two gentleman. Austere was clever as always, making amusing remarks and informing Noelle of the status of the workers and commoners. Because it was not proper for her to associate with them, Austere had become something of a messenger, delivering news and messages to and from Noelle. It was isolating being the princess. Her brothers had died because of wars, health, and poor decisions, her mother long-departed after giving birth to her. The king had re-married but the new queen was unmistakably barren and consumed with it, leaving no one for her to interact with, to befriend, to have simple conversations with. The ability to hear news every day was one of the few genuine joys she received.

Lost in thought, Noelle was surprised to hear Warren speak to her. He had seemed pained after their interaction in the castle but she made no effort to fix or question his behavior, she only read him from afar. She was good at that. She had a natural intuition that made it easy to understand people: their instincts, what made them tick, what they would say in a theoretical conversation. There was something about him that was different than most, but she questioned if it would be enough for her in the fantastical realm where they would consider marrying one another. As soon as she doubted, however, she would reconsider, reminding herself that she had barely met him. She had a habit of making quick judgments based on her intuition without allowing the person she was casting judgment on to prove his or herself. She made a conscious effort to remain open-minded.

“The flowers?” He looked down at her, and something about his expression had changed. It made her skin crawl in the most unusual way. She was uncomfortable but not, fazed but completely unfazed, intrigued but brushing it off. At least, she hoped she was. “That’s,” she paused, “a good question. I ought to think about it before I reply lest I give you the wrong answer and regret it later. Austere, what’s yours?”

“I’ll tell you what my least favorite are,” his expression was goofy, and Noelle looked up at him with an undeniable admiration.

“Shut up,” she teased, pushing him gently. He raised his hands in surrender and then glanced at Warren. He made no effort to explain the inside joke, and neither did she. They sobered up, as if recognizing that it was unfair to him to be shut out but unfair to them to reveal their shared truth. Noelle gazed off towards a section of garden that had become a cemetery some twenty years ago. All of the people she missed occupied that plot of land.

“I am sure you recognize that I asked you both here to discuss the matter of the competition. I am interested in testing not only their physical capabilities but their intellect, their wit. Sharpness of mind is incredibly important to me, and I suggest we find tasks for them to complete that will assist us in gauging that. Do you have any ideas? I have only a few, and since you are in charge of this competition, I am interested in hearing your contributions.”

A golden dress drifted into the room, sensible eyes settling on him with such authenticity. That precision, the look in her eyes, the illumination of her face. His mother, a distinguished lady with gold locks. She constantly beamed a smile towards him even when she was having a horrible day. His mother was what made him illegitimate. She had evolved from a poverty-stricken family, finding herself as a mistress to the king, Warren’s father. While Warren had most of his father’s features his amber eyes and boundless personality made him like his mother more than anything. His mother held those wild amber eyes that were given to Warren and her personality was just like his. She was audacious and wild yet she had a discrete way about her that set her different from the others.

Warren was taught by her, finding himself to conclude she was the queen, though he had found out promptly she wasn’t. She would teach Warren in fun ways, unlike any tutor he had. When he was little he would attend his mother in the garden, favoring the flowers. On infrequent occasions she would bring blue and purple stargazer lilies into the house, arranging them in a vase. Her beloved flower. The petals were refined yet arched with grace. It was difficult to take your eyes off of them. Every time she would bring them in she would lecture Warren while tailoring them into the vase. “Warren dear,” Her voice would articulate in such a sensitive tone. “I want you to learn something,” She would be so focused on her flowers yet she took the freedom to speak to Warren. “When you meet a woman ask her what her preferred flower is. You can find out how her mind by the flower she speaks of. Women who fancy roses appear to be more of the romantic type, wanting to be swept off their feet. While women who like lilies, such as myself, tend to represent the delicate petals, having an intricate mind.” She would tell him this all the time, repeating her words to sear it into Warren’s head, though it was more informal than contending for him to remember.

Warren would find himself confused each time she vocalized those words, and every time he would ask a question. “Why do I need to know that?” His eyes were roaring with curiosity. Yet she would continuously return with, “You will understand when you meet that one lady that makes your heartbeat just a wee bit faster each time your eyes land on her,” He never truly appreciated those words until now. That was the only respected moment he had of his mother. She had a major downfall in years to come.

---

Warren was baffled when Noelle didn’t answer. He just persisted there like he was converged on something else. He neglected their goofing around, not even peeping towards them. His mind strayed from his thoughts when Noelle spoke again. “It is puzzling that you will take your liberty to focus on those men,” He finally transferred from the spot he was at, stepping deeper into the garden. “If only you apprehended the things they say about you,” He chuckled, in an endeavor to lighten the moment but it was the improper moment for him to do that. “But,” He reflected, waving his hand like a prince. “If that is what you solicit then I shall make something out of those men.” He shot a cute smile towards her, turning away from the flowers he was originally gazing upon.

“Your suitors don’t know how to wield a sword let alone know how to keep their vulgar words at bay. It will take time and discipline...and a lot of patience on my behalf. It doesn’t help that they don’t like me,” He tapped his chin as he found himself in deep thought. Warren held a straight face but his eyes still had a lush charm to them. “Physical strength is easy. They can achieve the responsibilities of wielding a sword and riding horses in potential jousting. Though that all seems too indulgent. Intellect will be harder. I don’t have any activities in mind, though I presume it will help you, Princess, to conceivably have dinner with each one of them. I feel it is beneficial if you talk with them individually. They endure such a facade in the presence of other competitors that it is troublesome to understand who they truly are. You may be dazzled by someone you formerly were appalled by.” He fell speechless, keeping his eyes locked on her figure. He decisively moved towards her, his figure towering over hers. “If you do choose that then I ask that you be careful.” If those men acted so prominently in front of her who knew what they would do behind doors in the same room as her.

He stammered, realizing Austere was still there. He cleared his throat and moved away from the Princess. “I don’t know what you plan for the intelligence aspect. It truly depends on what you are intrigued by and what you want to see in those men,” He cracked a smile, never removing his eyes from her.

I lovveee him and his cute lil questions and flashback <3 i don’t think i have said yet but i had been meaning to haha))

Noelle sobered at his words, her expression showing annoyance at the way he was so quick to belittle the suitors, royalty he should respect--how quickly he was to speak his mind, to instill doubt in her when it was his very job to instill confidence. “Of course I take liberty to focus on those men,” she spat, “I will be marrying one of them in several weeks’ time.” She glanced to Austere before continuing, but he refused to meet her gaze. She decided against the harsh remarks she was thinking, and sighed softly instead. He continued on, flashing her a charming smile. She would have appreciated it if he hadn’t been so quick to get on her nerves.

She couldn’t help but notice the gentleness in his eyes as he gazed upon the flowers. She wondered about them--about him. Austere was a man of many words, but never the ones that needed to be spoken. He hadn’t mentioned anything about Warren save for the fact that he was a friend, one who was distant but very near to his heart. This left Noelle with a lot of questions, of musings, of curiosity regarding a man she had never once met. There were very few people she had never met before, that she didn’t know about, that she hadn’t heard of. Let alone one who looked so softly at common plants, and ones that many people including herself often looked past with little regard.

He had been droning on and on about something she had said while she was lost in thought about him, a single image of him in the garden looking at those flowers replaying in her mind. She hardly remembered her purpose for being out here, though it was not unlike her to do so. It was one of many dichotomies making up her personality. Extremely driven and focused, but so easy to let her mind succumb to reverie. Able to hold a debate on philosophy for hours, but the first one to lose her words when greeting someone.

Suddenly, he was close. Too close.

Her heart raced. She didn’t see him anymore, she saw someone she no longer saw in reality, but only in nightmares. He towered over her, and while the facet of her that remained rational begged her to see his closeness as something she desired, something intimate, she could only see things she had tried so hard, for so long, not to see. With fear in her eyes, she swiftly fell to Austere’s side, where he looked upon her with concern, with knowing. He made eye contact with Warren, wishing to explain the circumstances of her behavior to him. But ultimately, he concluded, it was her story to tell.

“Dinner would be nice,” she squeaked hastily, as if to compensate for the moment passed. She raised her right hand only a few inches, allowing its violent shaking to occupy her focus. All she wanted was for her composure to return. “Perhaps you are right,” she reiterated, “I suppose I have a plan.” She took a deep breath, then continued, letting both hands fall to her sides. Drawing attention to the shaking had only worsened it. “I would like you or Austere to occupy one of the sunrooms while I dine with each prospective suitor. They are in the residential corridor of the castle, so they have never been viewed by the princes. Thus, they would notice nothing if we hung a veil or a curtain on one side of the room, where one of you could sit and ensure my safety. Out in the corridor, a guard will stand as well, ensuring doubly my good health and welfare. If I say a word of my choosing, both you and the guard will step in, no matter the consequences.”

Pausing to release a shallow breath, her eyes explored the acres and acres of land that stretched beyond what her eye could see. A wistful smile fell to her lips. “I will see to it that we begin this afternoon, a pre-dinner of sorts. Perhaps tea instead. I will let the kitchen staff decide what festivity it will be. Austere, would you inform Prince Callum that I request his presence this afternoon?”

He paused hesitantly, as if he was unsure of whether to leave the princess alone with Warren. He wouldn’t be able to forgive himself if something happened to her. She gave a gentle smile, reassuring him. “I’m okay,” she promised. “Warren and I will make your acquaintance again in the left sunroom in half an hour’s time.”

Watching Austere leave their company, Noelle allowed herself to reconnect to her senses, to allow them to reawaken. It was an uncharacteristically warm day, and in the early afternoon glow, a breeze blew lazily. She felt her demeanor become soft, placid, and genuinely peaceful. After a short period of silence, she turned back to Austere, her inquisitive gaze studying him. “Out of curiosity, what would my favorite flower have led you to believe about me? I want to understand how your mind works,” she paused, smiling at herself amusedly. “I suppose you could say it is a favorite pastime of mine.”

Hopefully this reads okay. I'm exhausted so it lacks a lot of detail but hopefully it's something :)

As Warren stepped away, Noelle stared at the ground, heart racing. It had all happened so fast. His words, his touch, his lips...almost. She felt ashamed of herself for becoming so vulnerable, for throwing caution, image, and protocol to the wind in exchange for a few nice words. With the skeletons in her closet, even something as small as a kiss felt like betrayal. She was betraying not only herself, but her kingdom, her brothers, her father. She sighed softly, her fingers on her pulse, feeling her heartbeat. It was racing, but she already knew that.

She watched him for several uninterrupted moments, studying his anguished expression. She had been so lost in her own thoughts that she had forgotten the reason for their absence from one another. Her gaze fell to the letter in his hand, and she wondered what on earth they might have sent a messenger to deliver to him so urgently. Was it a death? A waging of war? An illness? His expression pointed to such a matter, and she was selfishly curious as to whether it would pull him away from this competition, from this kingdom. She wasn’t entirely sure where he had come from or what his story was, and although she longed to spend hours simply talking with him, she knew that her busy schedule forced her to keep people at arm’s length, distanced from them and their needs. There was also a significant fear that if she got to know him, she would blindly reciprocate the feelings that he so obviously felt towards her. Because of her history with romance, she simply couldn’t allow herself to let that happen.

Warren returned after a few moments, and in that time Noelle had thankfully regained the composure she had so quickly lost at the first stirrings of a kiss. She felt uncomfortable with the silence that had formed, but was equally so saying what was on her mind. There was a distance between them that was painfully obvious when they had been so close moments prior. She kept her eyes on the ground, unable to look at him, and knowing that the garden would never be the same. Whenever she gazed upon the orchids, she’d think of her scar-faced companion, and of the kiss that almost was.

…

As the afternoon progressed, Noelle, Austere, and Warren successfully designed and created a foolproof system which advocated for the safety of Noelle without the social hindrance. While the two managers completed the remainder of the task, Noelle had gone to be dressed and styled by her ladies. She reemerged later in the afternoon, styled in a beautiful ice blue gown composed of silk and tulle. Her hair was styled in long, flowing curls, a striking contrast from the way she typically wore it: up and out of her way. A true vision of beauty and sophistication, the young princess strutted down the beautiful sunlit hallways, her shoes clicking on the stone floor.

“Princess,” a voice called from before her. She lifted her gaze, unable to contain her smile.

“Prince Callum,” she replied in an enamored tone. “My spirits have been lifted just by the sight of you.”

“Isn’t it I who should be doing the charming?” His grin was boyish, innocent and reminiscent of youth. He had his hands in his pockets, casual and effervescent. Noelle smiled--she could not contain it.

They entered the room together, sitting down at the table beside the window. Sun entered through large glass windows, illuminating the space and brightening Noelle’s mood even more than the prince already had. Her face hurt from smiling so hard. They had a natural chemistry, a perpetual banter that was inescapable. Though she wouldn’t admit it, the princess was almost excited about the prospect of marrying this prince. Almost enough to forget the morning’s events in the garden with Warren. She wondered if he sat on the other side of the curtain, or if Austere had sent him off on some menial task. The thought of the pair of them silently watching each other while they listened to her conversation brought a smile to her lips as well.

Before long, the pair dispersed, sadly. They wished for more time that they could not afford with the festivities of the Winter Solstice Festival looming on the horizon. It was tradition, and Noelle was an integral part of the festival: she had been ever since she was born on the last day of the festival. Those three weeks were the only allotted time during the year that she was allowed to embrace her role as the people’s princess, and she enjoyed every moment of it. It was all she had left of the child within her, and the only possible way for her to get back to her true self. Even with the added stress of a wedding at the commencement of the festival this year. Within hours, she had been restyled for the third or fourth time of the day, now in a gorgeous chiffon gown of a bright red color. It had silver and gold accents, and it gave her an air of fierceness that demanded respect.

She floated down the large flight of stairs that led into the main ballroom of the castle, where the remainder of her party sat in awe, waiting. She felt an army of eyes plastered on her and gave an entrance worthy of such attention despite the inward discomfort it gave her. In that moment, she missed her brother. He made all of this safe, and despite the number of years he had been gone, there wasn’t a moment she didn’t miss him. He brought humor to her life, a similar humor to the one Callum seemed to draw from her. It only made her miss him all the more.

…

“She sure knows how to make an entrance,” Austere muttered under his breath, partially to Warren, and partially to himself. In the hour or two that he had been in the ballroom flirting with the maids, he had acquired more alcohol than he was really fit to, rendering him hardly capable of fulfilling his role as her guardian for the evening. Still, no sense of responsibility seemed to be holding him back as he continued to consume more and more, watching Noelle make her rounds. She took care in charming the royals and their representatives who had come from faraway places to partake in the festivities of their infamous festival.

Warren had never fancied a woman before. Well, he had encountered attractive women and attempted to make them his but the diversity of women he had seen...they were all missing something. He ordinarily held such prominent control around them, never had he slipped up. Yet, Noelle was different. Sure, all guys say that about a distinctive girl but Warren was serious. She had prompted him to slip up on numerous occasions. Was it her spirit? Her finesse? What was it that intrigued him? It had to be something so influential that made him like this. It felt unnatural.

It was troublesome for him, he wouldn’t lie. Remaining there for what felt like hours overhearing men flirt with Noelle. He desired to waltz in there to sweep her off her feet every time she became uncomfortable. It was apparent in her voice. On the other hand, he craved to give the suitors a genuine thrashing when he recognized Noelle fancying them. It was all jealousy. He had to keep his mind off of his feelings and concentrate on his actual job.

What had gotten into him? Falling head over heels for a girl he just met. Would he even call it that? That still appeared too extreme. He wasn’t in love with her. It was more like attention-seeking instead. He required her eyes to be on him and only him. That was what it was, right? He felt like he knew her for years yet he acknowledged that they barely knew each other. He still didn’t have the courage to even tell her his name. Austere had to do that for him. He behaved so courageously with his provocative words and swift movements yet buried down he was a coward. Oh just wait till she discovered he was illegitimate. Are these even genuine feelings or is it just because he is entertained by her? Warren was convinced it would die off. He just lacks time and space. Not solely that but it would look improper on both his and her behalf if she married him, one of the helpers for this competition, rather than choose the suitors. It would be unfair. Warren just needed to look at this professionally.

In the meantime of this whole emotional mess, he had become closer with Austere. He would call him a friend now. On rare unethical occasions, they would goof around and informally talk. It has been a prolonged time since he had a trustworthy friend.

-----

It took a second for Warren to gaze up at the princess. He acknowledged everyone was looking but that just frightened him. He was just starting to get over his attention-seeking bit. Finally, he had a peep at her. He caught himself gawking at her. She resembled a queen. As much as he yearned for things, he wished to know her favorite flower. He had guessed what it was but she never said anything at that moment. He would truly understand her if she just told him, as weird as that is. He subsequently turned his awareness to the drunk Austere next to him.

“Why do you have to say things like that?” He uttered like an upset child when speaking to Austere. He scratched his cheek with nervousness. “It is something that I already know,” He seized his alcoholic beverage and took a sip. Still, Warren could never find alcohol addicting. It tasted delightful but nothing that he craved for. Something would have to push him over the edge, emotionally wise, to get him to inhale a ton. “I can’t believe the princess allows you to drink this much. You won’t be able to stand, Austere.” He nudged Austere’s arm. He concluded that Austere wouldn’t listen to him. Warren fussed underneath his breath.

Warren would have been stuck in his thoughts for years if he hadn’t overheard the giggles of women nearby. They were gazing in both his and Austere’s direction. “Do you understand why girls giggle when they find a guy attractive?” He meandered to Austere. He rested for a lengthy second. “We need to get you away from this alcohol. Oh, wait! There are exceptional ladies over there peering our way, how convenient,” He sounded so sarcastic as he stood up. Warren clutched Austere’s arm and hauled him out of his seat. He conducted him over to the ladies who wouldn’t keep their eyes off of them.

After conversing, Austere went off with one lady, or maybe two, Warren couldn't identify what that drunkie had planned. On the other hand, Warren had noticed a lady for himself. She had abrupt red hair with sheer green eyes. Her skin appeared dull like she didn’t strive in life, but her name, Charlotte, was appealing and tingled on the tongue.

Charlotte laughed each time Warren spoke. Did she cherish him that much? It had to be his appearance that she was drooling over. It was essentially like she didn’t take him seriously. “May I ask why you have a scar?” The giggly girl requested. Warren stammered. “I don’t speak of that,” He chuckled in an attempt to whisk her question off. “Were you in a fight? Oh! Was it a war? No, an accident? How about-” She just wouldn’t stop talking. Warren wasn’t one to talk about his past yet this girl had the audacity to do so. “Do you talk this much to act charming or to get on my nerves?” Warren instantly regretted his words by the expression on her face. Charlotte scoffed, swiveled, and walked away. “No I didn’t mean…” He attempted to seize her, reaching out a hand, but she was already gone. He forgot that words hurt.

“Austere,” a young woman called from a darkened archway. Her voice was a harsh whisper, and her arms were crossed. If she hadn’t been as young as him, she would have been easily mistaken for his mother on mannerisms alone.

“Oh, what have you,” he slurred sardonically. He moved like a snake, wobbling from left to right on legs that lacked any sense of sturdiness or stability. He nearly ran over an unsuspecting Warren as he crossed the packed hall towards the woman, drawing unnecessary attention to her whereabouts.

The woman pinched the bridge of her nose with two fingers from her right hand, the other falling to her side. She shook her head in disappointment, though her eyes showed disbelief. Her skin was a pale olive hue while her hair was thick, dark, and curly, unkept in crimped waves that were pulled up messily in a haphazard chiffon. Her eyes were perhaps the most bewitching of all, a vibrant ice blue color that seemed to belong to a different body. There was something intelligent about her though she stood in a servant’s garb. Something sharp, something captivating.

“You blasted mess, what will Princess Noelle do with you when she sees you?” As her gaze left the blond to hunt down the princess in the crowd, she found her speaking to the scar-faced man Austere had almost trampled moments ago. It was a brief interaction, and she wondered whether Austere’s lack of grace had caused a chain of events leading the pair together. Then her eyes caught Noelle’s, and before she could scurry back into the dark passageway, the princess was striding towards them. Austere exited slowly, trying to keep his departure unnoticed by the servant. He disappeared into the crowd before Noelle could discover him.

“Remisse,” Noelle greeted, smiling genuinely. Her eyes glittered with pleasure and softness. “How long it has been since I have seen you! Austere informs me of your good fortune, though I wish I could hear from you myself.”

“Princess,” Remisse smiled forcefully, her eyes showing the annoyance that her body once reflected. “I hear you are doing immeasurable things for our nation and for the surrounding nations. I must admit I came up here with food for the banquet, but I could not bring myself to leave…”

“I am so glad to have found you. I have recently come into the information that Austere is unfit to accompany me to this evening’s festival. While I understand that you may not be the choicest advocate, I would enjoy not having to learn of what your life beholds from Austere for one evening. Would you care to join me?”

“I would love to,” Remisse replied, though her eyes flashed with concern as she registered the scene occurring in a near part of the ballroom. Austere had gotten himself into a fight with one of the more barbaric suitors, and before she could prevent it, a chair was flying in Noelle’s direction. ‘Look out’ were the only words the young woman could form, though they hardly formed at all, and within seconds a chair hit her square in the back of the head, missing their intended target, and sending the princess crumpling to the floor.

The next time Noelle woke up, she was in the castle’s infirmary. Warren was beside her, and though she recognized him, she watched him with a groggy bewilderment. She followed his gaze to the other side of the bed, wincing as she moved her head. She heard Remisse’s voice though she could not obtain the range of motion required to see the woman with her eyes.

“Where am I,” Noelle asked softly. Despite disorientation from being unconscious, her eyes were wild, terrified.

“The infirmary, your highness” Remisse replied. “Your beloved Austere got so drunk he stumbled into one of your suitors. An ex-suitor now, I would hope. He tried to throw a dining chair at the dimwit but he hit you instead.” She glanced gently in Warren’s direction. “Warren helped me get you up here, we’ve been here ever since. Meridath told us to keep watch while she went into town to fetch some things for you.”

“The festival,” the dark-haired princess whispered in an unmistakably pain-stricken tone. “I must go.” Her breathing grew quick, her eyes were wild, and though she thrust herself up out of bed, the pain was dizzying and she nearly collapsed out of the bed. Her skin was pale and ghost-like, ghastly out of the intense pain that the head injury had caused her.

Remisse gently set her back down, giving care not to cause her more pain. “It’s been several hours since the anticipated time of your departure, princess. I am sorry to inform you you must be bed-ridden for at least three days according to Meridath. She said you must be carefully looked upon to ensure your condition does not worsen.” More earnestly, the servant girl added, “she is quite concerned that you will fall asleep and never awaken.”

Warren exited the room, leaving a terror-filled silence in his wake. Noelle hardly had the vigor for anything in that moment, let alone the chastisement the man’s repulsive behavior deserved. Lying in silence with Remisse beside her, Noelle considered what she may have said or done if she had been feeling fully herself. To her disappointment, she concluded that the answer was absolutely nothing. That man had a streak in him that terrified her greatly, that made her skin crawl at the thought of him. He was always concerned about others and never himself, or so it seemed. He wasn’t a royal, yet he made advances towards her as if he was the king of this castle.

“You did not deserve that,” she said after some amount of time had passed. The blue-eyed woman began to speak, but Noelle continued. “You deserve to be treated with grace and respect like any human being, and once I am well I will see to that.”

She couldn’t see herself when Warren had excused Remisse from the room, but she was sure her eyes showed true petrification. She had tried to beg the girl to stay, but no words came. Her skin had paled and her breathing quickened. She wondered if it was obvious, if the traumas of past events showed in her behavior like living scars. She wondered if it was only her that could see so obviously the contrast between who she was and who she had become, or if those around her simply ignored the pain in her eyes and the hitch in her breath when something reminded her of something from days past. There were a lot of things they ignored, she knew. But they internalized them, they thought about them later, they remembered. But they never once asked.

Deciding it would be no use to argue with the princess, especially in her current state of paralyzing fear and half-conscious delirium, Remisse changed the subject. “He insisted on bringing a flower to your bedside.” She lifted the vase off the table, confident that it was not currently in her range of motion. She set it down in Noelle’s hands. She smiled. It was a weak smile, but it had the ghost of devilish mischief. The servant girl had not seen that expression from her since they were children, and she knew something insulting was going to be uttered.

“If he believes that a single flower will cause me to overlook that repulsive personality of his, he is sadly mistaken.” Giggling softly and wincing, Noelle added softly, “perhaps if he had brought a whole bouquet…”

The girls erupted in another hushed fit of giggles, which eventually faded to a comfortable silence. The ambience occupying the room was nothing like the one that the man had left behind. Besides the searing pain in her head and the mourning in her heart regarding the festival, Noelle felt much more well than she had in a long time. More like herself, more alive.

“I cannot believe Austere drove a man to the point of desiring to throw a chair at him in the midst of a royal dining hall in the presence of royalty.” The smile on her face was incredulous, almost smitten.

“You and Austere are close.”

“As much so as you and I when the three of us were children. Some days I am convinced he is all I have left of my own identity.” She sighed softly. “In the days following the things that happened, he had to remind me who I was.”

“News of unspeakable events reached the kitchen, but most of us passed it off as rumor. Lots of them circle around, you know. It is so impossible to discern what is truth and what is not, especially when you do not see it for yourself. But in the case of those matters,” she replicated Noelle’s cautious tone, “most of us wanted to believe it wasn’t true. You’re the only royal to step foot in this castle and treat us with the kindness you would show an equal. It is painful to imagine those things happening to anyone, but unthinkable to imagine them happening to you.”

Remisse felt slightly uncomfortable at the amount of time Noelle had let her speak. When she turned to watch the princess, she saw a blank expression on her face. Her eyes were distant, almost glassy. She would never admit that absurd horrors were dancing in her head, taunting her to close her eyes for just a moment. As it was every night. Except this time, instead of the monsters who had actually caused her such pain, it was Warren.

The night passed as slowly and painfully as anything else. Ever the optimist, Noelle was almost grateful for such sickening night terrors because they promised that she would awaken every hour or two. The first two, Remisse was by her side. The third, Meridath was there. That was perhaps the most frightening to awaken to, considering the promise of various potions and amulets and colored rocks the woman would try to force on her. The fourth time, Meridath had gone. Warren sat in the chair he had occupied before, and though she was still rather disenchanted by his behavior, she was somewhat grateful that she was not alone. Though, considering the fear suffocating her body and mind, she wondered if she would rather face the fear of being alone.

She had startled herself into a sitting position, though the piercing pain in the back of her skull caused her to whimper at her own sharp movement. Beads of sweat clung to her forehead which she wiped away, along with the tears in her eyes. She cradled her head in her hands, staring outside of the window that was positioned on the wall across the hall. She wondered why the door remained open, but it made her feel safer with the guards just outside of the door. She could almost see the gleaming of metal reflected by the full moon. By that same full moon, she was just barely able to make out Warren’s figure. He appeared slumped beside her, peaceful. She wondered if he was sleeping or not, she couldn’t make out his features that well in the darkness. Maybe he was watching her with concern. Her eyesight wasn’t great, so she could hardly tell. But something about him radiated peace and placidity in a way completely separate from anything she had seen from him. She wondered in good humor if this softness she felt towards him was simply because he hadn’t uttered a single word.