I didn't know quite how to deal with Damian after I'd told him I couldn't be his queen. So rushed into our passion before, I'd never even considered what our love would eventually come to. I could never have been his queen. I had never been the pretty, fragile princess who would throw parties for the court and entertain his guests. Never had dressed up every day and be expected to act with the perfect genteel and manners of a lady, with a perfect smile to woo all and the will to bear heirs. Especially now, scarred… I had never been the dainty thing princes were supposed to love and own and control. But even if I'd realized this back on our journey towards Blevon and Damian wouldn't end his attentions towards me… I was young and he was handsome and had I even ever allowed myself to think of men in that way? Even if I realized that our brief passion could never be more I don't know if I could have broken it off, I was so caught up in his love and his intensity. I mean, all I had wanted to do was be a swordsman and fight. That was all I knew, and it's been what I have done ever since those scars, that climatic battle that drove the reality home and forced me to make the choice for both of us. I have served next to him and defended the throne. I have fought and sweat and lived the life of a soldier, and even though my comrades know I am female now, this is definitely not the behavior befitting a queen, especially not one of such a gorgeous king.

It was uncomfortable now to walk beside him through the halls of the castle, his castle, but I have always been good at hiding my emotions. With our fling behind me, I was able to turn back into the me I knew, hard and reliable and never fawning and falling all over a boy as I had with Damian. Looking back, neither of us had been in the best state of mind when we had come together. Marcel had just died. I was more than emotionally compromised and easily fell to Damian in my weakness. He was dealing with so much too, his father's hatred and cruelty, the murder of his mother and brother. Right then we had both needed love, and fell to each other in fear of his father's schemes and our grief. Not that our love had been any less real, any less true. But it had been born of desperation and I couldn't turn away his wooing. I don't regret it; it happened and cannot be taken back. He had been battling with so much and thought I was the only person he could relate to. No, the only thing I regretted was how it had hurt Rylan.

Through all this, the scarring, the coming out to my friends, Rylan had stood beside me. In the huge maelstrom of our pain after our brothers' deaths and that fateful battle, he had never taken advantage of my pain. He was my friend as he'd always had been, and we comforted each other without all the rushed heat of Damian. He did not let me forget he loved me though, as he showed it (though probably unknowingly) in little looks he gave me and the gentle way his hand touched mine or clasped the back of my neck after a spar. I did not begrudge him this; this was my caring friend who had always loved me and was content to just be my friend until I came to him- unlike Damian who had majorly stayed clear of me since I rejected him. As I had realized before with Damian, it would have been so easy to fall for this friend who had always loved me and I was so comfortable with. It was in this way, in the comfort of a strong friend after the loss of my twin and the bond Rylan and I had always shared as fellow guardsmen that I fell for this gentle friend.

It's been a year since Damian's coronation, and I've healed with Rylan's help even if my scars are still visible. Scars Damian will always see, but Rylan sees past to me. Scars that will forever remind me of that fateful day, all the death and cruelty finally brought low. I tell myself the only thing that matters is that I'm not dead, that the scars haven't made me stiff or slow at with a sword, because that's all that I should care about. But it's hard sometimes, and I can never forget, except when I'm on duty and fighting. So as I strike and parry with Rylan now, sweat dripping down my brow, it's easy enough to be totally entrancing in this power of muscle and the quick skill of our dance. Easy to think only of the power I possess and the friend next to me.

I fake at Rylan's side after consecutive strikes to his head and shoulders, and as he twists his arm down to block, I easily bring my sword point to rest at his collarbone.

He grins. "You only got me with that because we've been going at this for at least 20 minutes now. A man gets tired."

"Excuses, excuses. Take your loss with honor clown." I huff as sweat rolls down my nose. "Twenty minutes eh? You've beaten your record. Am I getting worse?"

"Of course not miss swordsman." He raises an eyebrow at me "I've just been beaten by you so many times I'm getting used to your tricks." The scars are totally forgotten, lost with this man, this friend who loves me. Whom I love. Until I accepted the cloth from Rylan to wipe away the sweat, leaning back against the rings around the sparring circle. As I wipe my face I feel the texture of my skin change, and am jolted back into the reality of modern day.

Rylan seems to recognize my change in expression and reaches out to touch my cheek. "Alexa, don't worry about this. I…" He blushes and removes his fingers, letting his hand drop to his side. "...I mean just think of how ferocious you look to your enemies. It adds to your power." He was trying to laugh off the touch, I could tell. He'd promised to wait until I was ready, wait to know if I could ever love him, and I could see this even now through the longing in his honest eyes that he was not going to go against his word. Only now was different. I felt ready.

I reached down and took his hand in mine and smiled up at him. "Well that's one way to look at it." Rylan considered our joined hands. He brought his other hand to cup my cheek.

"Does this mean what I hope it means?" he murmurs.

I smile shyly at him, blushing "I love you Rylan. You've stayed with me through all this, you're my greatest friend." I watch Rylan's face explode into a grin, his eyes light up joyfully. His reaction made heat rush to pool in my gut and I blushed, mumbling "But, I want to take this slow. I rushed with Damian and was in such a bad place then, I just want to enjoy this as it comes."

"Of course." I look up to see concern in his loving eyes. "We'll go just as fast as you want. It's the friend Alexa I fell in love with anyways. I do love you." He whispers as he leans it to brush his lips against my cheek. I wondered if he really expected that level of chastity from me. I mean, we'd kissed before, more than a year ago.

So I kissed him again.