Mayfair introduced herself to his force at Asreet Island, but he didn't really talk to her until late that night. He still thought of that night as their first meeting.

His nightmares were running strong at the time, and the ones he had that night were particularly bad. Perhaps it had to do with the fact that they were now invading beloved Cypress. He jolted up out of his sleep, breathing hard and sweating. Looking around, he saw his new allies all still sleeping soundly on the cots laid out for them in the basement of the church, except Mayfair and Ruce. Remembering that Ruce's was the third watch, he realized it must be deep into the middle of the night.

Well, I'm not getting anymore sleep tonight. Sighing, he got off his cot, stretched his quivering limbs, and wandered up to the main level of the church. Some fresh air would probably do him good.

Ruce was sitting in the church, keeping his eyes about. Nick notified him that he'd be outside. The doors opened smoothly, without creaks or other noise.

The night was disappointingly warm, giving no relief to his sweat-soaked skin. He walked about aimlessly, trying to work away his phantoms by the reminder that the plan he'd set in motion would soon banish them all, when he spotted her standing alone. Somehow, he had thought she'd be somewhere in the church; that would have fit better with her profession.

He smiled. Their both being outside in the middle of the night was a serendipitous occurrence, and this put him in a playful mood. Remembering that she was blind, he approached the girl with quiet steps, not bothering to conceal himself when she happened to turn towards him.

It was difficult to suppress the laugh that tickled at his throat. There she was, standing in the moonlight like a girl waiting on her lover, looking directly at him, yet unaware of his presence. And he, standing within six feet of his target with no cover, like the most bumbling of stalkers.

As he came still closer, he could fairly make out her features by the moon's light. This made him pause, for there was something so lovely about the way she was simply standing there, doing nothing, perfectly at peace with herself and the world around her. She was a vision of absolute serenity. It was almost a shame to shatter it.

He was just about to grab her by the shoulders when her fist shot out at him from nowhere. His reflexes were well-honed enough that he caught it, but she was surprisingly strong. The unexpected force of her strike knocked him off-balance, and with a loud cry he fell to the ground. She was upon him in an instant, pinning both his wrists to the ground.

It was an easy hold for him to break, but there was no need. "You!" Mayfair gasped. "The leader... Nick, wasn't it?"

"Yeah, it's me. I was just playing a little joke."

"Good spirits, you scared me half to death!" She quickly got off of him and pressed a hand to her breast. She was breathing heavily. "Don't ever do that again! If I hadn't recognized your voice when you cried out, I could have really hurt you."

"My apologies," he said, unconsciously slipping out of his imitation of peasant speech. He sat up. "It was thoughtless of me. Are you all right?"

"I'm fine. Thank you for your concern." She spoke with refreshing sincerity.

"It's rather dangerous to be out where Ruce can't see you, you know. Even if you are very alert. How did you know I was there?"

"When deprived of the gift of sight, one learns how to listen. And what of you? What are you doing out here, where you say it is so dangerous?"

"There's a bit of a story to that. I'll share it, if you'll grant me a minute or two to retrieve a candle."

"Why didn't you bring one in the first place?"

He shrugged and gave a sly grin, though he knew she could see neither. "I didn't think I'd find anything out here worth seeing."

Her head bent down then, and he imagined that she was blushing, though it was too dark to make out the color of her cheeks. "Very well. Go ahead."

There were plenty of candles in the church, and he managed to find a candleholder. As he lit it from Ruce's lamp, it struck him that he was conversing with Mayfair not because he had to, but because he wanted to. It had been too long since he had spoken with another of the upper class. There was Lowe, of course, but as much as Nick respected the old codger, it was blindingly obvious that he had more humble roots. Mayfair, on the other hand, was even more dignified than her parentage suggested she would be.

As he returned to where she sat, she said loudly, "Is that you, Nick?"

"It is."

"Good." Her tone relaxed. "Try to announce yourself when you come near."

He could have slapped himself. "Forgive me. I should have thought of..."

"No, I should have told you." She patted the ground beside her. "Will you sit with me?"

He hesitated. "You never said you wanted to talk to me, did you? I shouldn't have imposed."

"Please. Sit. I feel safer with you keeping me company."

He obeyed, setting the candle down on the ground. "If you want to feel safe, why aren't you inside?"

She sighed. "I used to feel safe in churches. They were the places where healing and piety lived. But now..." She drew her knees up to herself. "...I don't think I can feel safe anywhere anymore. It doesn't matter where I am, only if I'm with friends. That's the only way I can feel safe."

"I understand. That's the way I've been feeling as well." He poured a hopeful note into his voice. "Most likely these feelings will go away once this war is ended."

"Then you too were restless tonight?"

"Nightmares."

"What sorts of nightmares?"

"About my sister... how she was killed." He had nightmares about his father's death too, but with far less frequency. Though he'd loved him more than his sister, he hadn't actually seen him die.

"You can tell me about it."

He shook his head. "I'm sure it is as nothing compared to what you've gone through. You have enough pain without mine to deal with."

"To comfort people is my profession," she said, reaching about until she laid her hand on his. "Let it out."

The words were probably no more than rote, but her sincerity was plain. Even so, he was hesitant to give out his past. There were too many clues to his true identity there. But what harm is that? She's a fellow Cypressian. Dammit, I still shouldn't do it. He wiped his free hand over his face. "Promise you won't tell this to the others."

"I promise," she said, her tone puzzled. He could guess why. She was trying to figure out why he would tell her, whom he'd only just met, something that he didn't want shared even with his friends.

"I was out late, on some sort of midnight adventure with a friend." He began, naturally enough, with a lie. The truth was that he had been out practicing nighttime combat with his trainer. These night sessions were done impromptu, so that he would be as sleep-deprived as if he were under a real surprise attack. "To avoid being caught, I climbed the side of the house to my second story window." His royal bedroom was set considerably higher than the second floor, and scaling the wall was just another matter of physical conditioning. He'd counted off the seconds as he ascended, hoping to beat his current record, and silently repeating what his father had said about a sound body and a sound mind. "My sister's room was next to mine. Joined to it by a door, in fact. When she was little, she would come to my room whenever she couldn't sleep. Often I awoke with her sleeping in my bed, never knowing she'd come in."

Mayfair smiled. "You're lucky to have had a sister. I was an only child."

He nodded. "That wasn't the only use we had for that door. We'd often meet at night to tell each other stories, or simply talk. That night, as I climbed the wall, I heard shouts coming from her room, so I climbed over to her window instead of mine."

He took a deep breath. "They had broken down the door. Four of them, at least. They were dressed in Cypress uniform, but they must have been Woldol's personal henchmen; they weren't interested in my sister surrendering. There was a sword on the floor. I suppose she armed herself when they started breaking down the door." His sister had never taken much interest in the art of combat, and his father had accepted that. "I saw her - they had her cornered, and their blades were drawn. She saw me... she called my name. Her eyes were filled with terror. And I..."

He stopped there. He couldn't say it. He shouldn't have even started telling this to anyone who was not of his family.

"You fled," Mayfair finished, giving his hand a comforting squeeze. Nick refused to acknowledge her statement, but he didn't need to. She must have known what he'd done as soon as he told her that he'd seen his sister's killers. When the silence had stretched out for half a minute, Mayfair asked, "What was your sister like?"

"It doesn't matter now, does it?"

"I... I suppose not." Her grip on his hand loosened. "You loved her, didn't you?"

"Yes." He realized, belatedly, that a fellow Cypressian was the last person he should have told this story to. How could she ever respect her king, knowing this about him? And yet... she was a woman of the church. She'd understand. "I should have fought for her."

"You would have only died with her."

"I know that. But the feeling I glimpsed in her face as I dropped out of sight - the terrible awareness that her brother had abandoned her unto death -" -he closed his eyes against the memory- "...I could have spared her that. I could have given her the comfort of being by her side at the moment of her death."

"That must have been terrible for her." She stroked the top of his hand. "But it wasn't your fault. You couldn't have known you would have had to leave her."

"I shouldn't have left her at all," Nick returned, feeling the urge to cry. He held it in easily. "I should have stayed with her to the end."

"You don't really believe that. And I don't believe it in the slightest." The firm certainty of her voice surprised him. He looked to her face, momentarily forgetting that her eyes were closed to him. "Your life - any life- is worth far too much to be traded for a small bit of comfort at the hour of death."

He smiled shrewdly. "Even Woldol's?"

"Don't confuse the issue. I want Woldol dead, Nick, but only because of the thousands he has killed, the thousands more he will kill if we fail to stop him, and the horrible things he did to me. Of itself, his life is still valuable." She smiled. "Yours, more so."

Nick was impressed. After all she'd been through - the suffering, the loss, the fear - Mayfair still had the strength to comfort another.

It was a significant moment. The same conversation that first revealed her fortitude to him had revealed his weakness to her: not that he had abandoned his sister, but that he had felt guilty for doing so. True, that feeling had come over him after terrible trauma, and he could easily laugh at it now. However, Mayfair surely would not forget that whereas she had been strong in the wake of her trials, he had been weak in the wake of his. Could that be the real reason she had rejected his proposal?

No... It can't be. She knows I have great fortitude in most th- in all things. It was a moment of guilt, no more.

This left him with no real choice but to accept her refusal at face value. The solution, then, was laughably simply, but painful to contemplate. It would be worth it, however, if it persuaded her to say yes. If it would give him a clean sweep of triumphs.

He turned his face towards Yeesha, who was busy polishing the sculptures and vases which adorned his room. "Yeesha," he asked, with an affected air of curiosity, "...do you know much about love?"

"Firsthand, Your Highness?" she answered, without sparing a glance away from her work. "Very little. But I've observed plenty through my students."

The last notes of her reply were raised; she was making an effort to sound ready to answer any question he might have. Undoubtedly because of a desire to hear what he would ask.

Nick decided to disregard her nosiness; Yeesha knew better than to gossip, and it was worth it to obtain her advice. "Tell me... How does it happen?"

She stopped, bent her eyebrows at him. "What do you mean?"

He took a moment to carefully choose his words. "Suppose a man comes to know a woman, and finds she has all the qualities he considers ideal. How does the irrational part of love happen? How does he become infatuated?"

Yeesha cracked into a light laugh. "Nick, there's more to it than that!"

"Yeesha," he snapped.

The bright look on her face vanished. "Forgive me, Your Highness."

"Please try to remember the appellation. Believe me, I take no pleasure in correcting you." He gave her a nod. "Continue."

"Your Highness... you can only love the right person for you. It has to be someone who fills something in you, a need you probably never knew you had. It could be anything... a purpose in life, a new strength. Even just a return of affections."

"And how does one know that this person is filling one of those needs, those missing parts?"

She shrugged. "I suppose the easiest way is if you constantly long for that person whenever they're not around."

Nick sighed inwardly. In the weeks she'd been gone, he had not missed Mayfair even one iota. Perhaps he'd idly wished for her company a few times, but that was it. Assuming Yeesha knew what she was talking about, it wasn't only that he didn't feel capable of falling in love; Mayfair wasn't the one he could fall in love with.

Well. It was a bad idea anyway. I'm sure Mayfair can be made to see reason.

----------------------

Mayfair managed to keep herself thoroughly busy for the next several days, but he finally cornered her in her study. Without looking up from the paper she was working on, she asked, "What is it, Nick?"

"An apology." He didn't need to fake the emotion in his voice; being denied even the simply joy of her cool face was enough. Somehow, her name had joined Gyan's in the short list of those he truly considered his friends. Perhaps all her talk of him being her good friend had convinced him that it was actually so. "I'm so sorry for the last thing I said to you."

"There is no need. You only spoke the truth."

"No. At best, I unfairly exaggerated the truth." He was still talking to her back. "You're different from me. You place a high value on love, and should it come your way, I think you would seize it. I was so desperate to have you accept my proposal that I used the first tactic that came to mind: deluding you into thinking you had no other choice."

"You're saying that only because you want to sensitize me to a renewal of your proposal."

Nick smiled bitterly. I've trained her too well with my lies. "I don't deny that. It's still the truth." He stepped forward and laid a hand on her shoulder. "I still think you were hasty in your decision. Have you even considered how much good you would do for Cypress as queen?"

"Much less that I can continue to do as general," she rejoined, but warmth had returned to her voice.

"During peacetime? Even when war comes again, the value you would have as the emblem of Cypress is immeasurable."

She blushed, but not from pride. "I think I would be a pitiful and homely emblem, not that it matters. I'm sorry, Nick, but I just couldn't stand it - acting as wife to a man I don't love."

"You speak as if that sort of thing were uncommon. My mother and father never loved each other, you know."

"They told you that?"

"They didn't need to. There were thousands of little things that showed it. They never kissed, except when they were in the public eye. Often when my mother was upset, my father didn't notice."

Mayfair laid down her pen and shook her head. "It's not good for children to see a lack of love between their parents. Forgive me, Nick, but I don't want to follow your parents' example."

"Then who do you suggest the king of Cypress should marry? I've told you I could never love a woman, and if I did love one, the odds are against her being a suitable queen."

"I don't wish to discuss this any further," Mayfair said wearily. She got up from her desk and handed him the paper she was working on. It was the proposed military alliance with Emild. "With your permission, I would like to leave here early tomorrow."

Nick nodded. "Of course. You can think the matter over during your leave."

"Good spirits, if I didn't know better I'd think you were actually in love with me." She smiled at him with gentle condescension. "I told you, Nick. My answer is no, and always will be."

"I hear you." He reached up and brushed a stray hair away from her face. "But whatever you may think, I'm certain beyond all doubt that no one is more fit to be queen of Cypress than you. If there's even a ghost of a chance of you marrying me, I don't want to let it slip away. And so, with all due respect, I'm keeping my proposal open indefinitely."

She stared at him for a long moment. There was a chance, however slight, that his sheer persistence might persuade her that his proposal was worth accepting. Not now, though. Without another word to him, she turned and left the room.