Hello and good to see you, reader! Apple Fairy here!

The next chapter! Oh my, oh my it's here! I'm actually still writing this thing?! D:

Well…er, yes. I am. Sadly enough. I'm not sure how this chapter will be received. This is really just a prelude to the breakup, but please have mercy on it, nonetheless. I hope you find some nice things in this chapter, despite its blandness.

Geez, does Natty even get any character development in this chapter? D:

Ah, don't worry about it. Continue to read, if you wish to. Thank you for doing so too. Let it begin, yes?

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Tales of the Abyss.

Unspeakable

Story by Apple Fairy

I can't remember our first kiss that clearly

When we first held hands, is also a cloudy memory.

What was it like, when I first said I loved you?

Funny.

The only thing I can remember well, that every little detail was put to mind…

…was the time when you told me you loved another. It's the only thing I remember completely.

The only thing I remember about you.

Maybe that's why he didn't like Mieu at first. Because he wasn't a bird at all, not by any stretch of the imagination. I bet if Luke had been presented with a talking bird he wouldn't have called it Thing or picked on it or anything. He would've probably loved it to death and named it something stupid, but what he considered cool or great. It's easy to picture.

Poor Mieu. Never stood a chance.

I'm thinking of this because I'm just now remembering how much Luke loved birds. I'm looking through my house, in the dead of the night, looking for anything resembling a bird cage, and I'm remembering how my best bud loved birds.

Maybe it's because it's late. Maybe that's why I'm going this far for that bird. It's even stranger how I'm doing this before tomorrow. If I told her about it, right before the moment, will she laugh?

I know how she is. She will. She's cute like that. Good sense of humor.

I love her for it.

In any case, yeah, Luke loved birds. Especially when he was cooped up in the manor. He always looked up in the trees, looking for a nest, a source of the chirping, just to get a glimpse. And whenever I caught him red-handed, he'd blush, and try to look cool, like he was just trying to pass time, not actually interested. But after a while, he told me the truth. He always said they went anywhere they wanted, and that he was so envious of them. Unlike him, cooped up in the manor.

I could always count on the chance of finding him looking up at the sky, back then. I wonder if he wanted to fly. Well…maybe. I'll have to ask him when he comes back.

But enough of that. I have to hurry. I have no idea how long he'll stay there.

Birdcage. Do I own one? This big mansion all my own, but not containing the one thing I need. I'm not sure what I'd do if I didn't find one. Can't let him run amok in here. No time to buy a birdcage tomorrow. Maybe I should build one…?

Oh wait.

I do have one.

That's right! It'd been so long ago, I'd almost forgotten.

It's full of screwdrivers and hammers, but I own one.

I can remember it now, just as I'm walking toward my workshop. I was picking out furniture for my manor, and Jade had came with me. (Although, I hadn't really asked him to; he was self-invited as usual.) It was an unnerving experience anyway, because I was so used to cleaning expensive stuff like this, not actually given a chance to own it. Anyway, yeah, so as I was saying, I was walking through the store, examining side tables. Oak, birch, mahogany. All costly.

"As a noble," Jade was saying, "It's better to show your riches then be thought as cheap."

I'd barely heard him though, because I'd seen a display of birdcages on sale. All of them were ornate in some way; curving iron and shining metal. Some small and square, others rounded at the top and big. Silver and gold and white and black. They were pretty to look at. Impractical if you didn't have a bird, though.

A saleswoman tried to convince me otherwise.

She spotted me gazing, and was polite but pushy in her sales pitch. Saying how classy it would be to own a bird, and what better way to start then buy one of their birdcages? It was all the rage with nobles nowadays, and even the Emperor himself owned pets.

(Except I knew what pets they were. Classy? Not so much. Cute, maybe. Not classy.)

And then Jade joined in too, and before I knew it, I had one in my hand, bought and mine.

I never got a bird. In the end, before I could even remember to get one, I was sent to go look for Asch, and we learned that Van was back and out for Lorelei and it was adventure time all over again. And even after we all got back home, I just gave up on the idea. It became a place to put some of my tools, and I never saw it as a birdcage again.

Well, until now. How convenient.

I was cautious in removing the tools. At one point, a wrench had slipped out of my hand and almost hit me in the foot had I not jumped out of the way. I shrugged it off though, and placed the tools on a shelf, reminding myself to buy a proper toolbox when I got the chance.

It wasn't until I saw a broken music box on my desk (my latest challenge to fix and rebuild) that I began to remember her.

Well, damn. I was doing such a good job too.

I remember building her a music box. It'd been difficult; I had to learn how to read music for it, too. She had loved it. I know she still does, and still keeps it. Where, I don't know. I haven't been in Natalia's room for ages. Not that I'm really pining for a chance to be.

I sighed, and turned my head away.

I'm not going to stop thinking about this, am I? No, I don't think so. I guess I won't be able to stop thinking about it; she'll be there anyway. I mean, yeah it had been what, three years since we were together? But still it had…it was something good. Something nice. I was in love with her. Honest-to-God in love with her.

I don't think I can forget that easily. It's been three years, but we had spent two years together. Two really good, really nice years.

And she had Asch. I know. I'm not bitter. I'm not in love anymore. I'm not.

I've moved on. It was nice, but it ended. I mean…

I mean it led to that day anyway. The break-up. It would probably go down the same path again. It's just not destined. It's doomed from the start. We're good as friends, but it's fatal if we try to be more.

I can remember when it began to go downhill. Maybe if I remember this, then I'll stop thinking about it. I can still remember everything clearly. From point A to point B. That one day. The one day we weren't careful, and we were put under the test.

The day we were caught.

"…And because of the Fonic war, the Kingdoms of Hod and Kether are wiped out. The production of the weapons used during the war, causes a disturbance in the land, and miasma was born because of it, causing the Planet Storm to malfunction as well."

"Uh-huh."

"Yulia Jue then predicted this and warned the world's leaders. This has the leaders stop this production. Soon the Planet Storm is fixed with her help and the Fonic war ends. In BD 2712, however, the Kingdoms of Ispania and Frank mistrust her, turning one of her disciples against her and have her thrown into jail…

"Yeah. Uh-huh."

"…And he goes on to build the Order of Lorelei, and…And you're not listening at all, are you?"

"Uh-huh. Yup."

I tapped the book on his head, causing him to jump, his gaze turning back to me, away from the window. He was wide-eyed, confused. Woken up.

"Luke, pay attention."

"How can I?" He sighed, throwing his hands up. "This is all so boring and stupid. What's it got to do with me anyway?"

"It's history, Luke. You're supposed to learn it."

He let out another dramatic sigh, flopping onto the table, over the notebook he was supposed to be taking notes in. Its pages were blank.

Luke was being difficult again. Which was probably why the madam sent me to help him study. I couldn't refuse her request, and besides; I was his attendant. He was my responsibility and my friend. Who else would take the job?

I looked out the window, to the courtyard. We were in the library, but not alone, a few maids cleaning up and re-shelving books. It was lively in here, soft chatter in the air, and quiet laughs. Luke still looked dead though, laying there and looking positively bored. It was at times like these I wondered why I never had been more assertive when I had raised him; had taught him discipline, and manners and everything. It's said that to raise a child they need both love and control. Mothers are almost always the love. Fathers take the role of order. Looking back at this, I only gave love back then. I hadn't been mature enough to be a father.

(I guess with the journey, I grew into that? Tear seemed to help; she was both love and order.)

"But what's the point?" He was asking me, cutting into my thoughts, "It's not like I'll really need any of this."

"Luke, you're going to be king. It's important that you-"

"Don't talk like that." He said, pointedly, "It sounds too impersonal."

I smiled. I knew he hated when I acted like a servant, just another maid telling him 'Good morning, Master Luke'. It had all started when he told me to call him 'Luke', not 'Master'. I liked that with him.

"Alright. Do it for me, and I promise to get you something from the city."

And I guess with this love, I spoiled him still, treating him, too far in to care about the consequences. Damage was done and no way to fix it, but live with it.

Not that I really minded when he looked at me with bright, excited eyes, grin on face.

"Seriously? Like what? Like what?"

I put my thumb to my chin, looking upward, thinking, but only looking that part. "Mmm…I don't know. I hear there's a circus that's going to be in town, and I hear they sell a lot of really interesting souvenirs…"

"Really?!"

"…Although, if you don't finish your studying today, then I won't get any." I finished, looking him in the eye sternly, "Got it?"

Luke frowned, and crossed his arms. He sighed the type of sigh where it releases through the nostrils and makes them cross their arms just because it all fits together. After awhile of considering, Luke responded.

"Alright. But promise to help me."

"Okay."

It was a deal. I got the work done, through bribing, but at least it was done. Ends justify means, right? Child can be raised with only love and without rules, right?

Well, oh well. What's done is done.

I shooed these thoughts away, mild guilt, and tired perfectionism as I leaned over his shoulder and told him history all over again, urging him to take notes, telling him what dates to write and write about what was important about them. He never did, by the way.

"Hey, Guy," he interrupted, "What's a circus like?"

I held back the sigh in my throat, and only smiled. I hadn't even begun telling him the importance of BD 2693.

(Yulia Jue's birth, if you were curious.)

"Well, it's like…The main purpose of a circus is to entertain. It's a show, basically, of people's talents and tricks and…" I trailed off, frowning. It'd been long since I saw a circus, so it made it that harder to explain. I shrugged.

"You'd have to see it to understand."

"Will you take me to see one?"

"Huh?"

Luke was looking up at me then, face its same disillusionment, his tone nonchalant, and his head balanced on his hand, elbow on table. He blinked once and repeated himself, eyes gazing into mine.

"I said, will you take me to see one? When I get out of here?"

I smiled and put an arm around his shoulder, leaning against him from where I stood. Okay, so yeah, no order. No discipline. I let this guy do as he pleases, sadly enough. I'm careless, and because of that he's careless. He's nothing to be proud of. But he is plenty to love.

"Sure. I promise."

And from the corner of my eye, I could see him smile.

So it went like that for awhile as I tried my best to get him to study, to listen to me. Still, he requested what I get him, and asked more questions, and was just being restless and careless all in all. No matter what though, I never got angry with him. I'm too lenient. I'm too nice.

Basically we made no progress, but in the end I didn't really mind.

"Guy."

And then it came to an end as a maid called to me. I smiled at her and stood up asking, "Yes?"

"Ramdas wants to see you. He's got more chores for you."

"Alright." I nodded, turning back to look at Luke. He still held onto his bored look, merely watching things before him; not at all worried about me having to leave his side. I wondered if he would have the same expression had it been Van who would have to leave his side. Probably not.

Maybe it's because he knew I wasn't going anywhere soon. I decided it was a silly matter to think about.

"I'll see you later?"

"Yeah."

So I ruffled his hair and he grinned, and I left my master's side.

Who would've thought I'd be seeing him again, soon enough, at the worst possible time.

"Guy? Is that you?"

I nearly hit my head on the top of the fireplace hearing her voice. Light and proper and pretty and out of place.

"Natalia?"

She stood there, her hand on the knob of the door that would lead her out of the drawing room, head turned toward me, her eyebrows raised. She looked me over, as I was crouched over the fireplace, cleaning its insides. Soot on my face, and sleeves rolled up…I don't usually feel it, but all of a sudden I felt self-conscious of my appearance.

She looked away from me then, looking around the drawing room. No one was there with us. She approached me then, quick, arms held out for a hug, and kneeled down by my side. However, I leaned away, arms held up in a sort of surrender like pose, scrub brush held in one hand.

"Don't hug me."

"Why?"

"I'm covered in soot, silly. I don't want to ruin your pretty dress." I laughed.

She smiled and settled for a kiss, as we both leaned forward, taking in warmth and soft lips.

"You're so sweet." She whispered.

"Thanks."

And another kiss. I swear, I never got enough of that girl. I always wanted more. More kisses and hugs, more chances to bury my face into her neck, more chances to make love to her. More time to have her all to myself, more time to hold her hand. More words to hear from her and more moments to remember why I'm in love, why I want her, and why I'm so lucky to have her.

More, more, more.

Greedy, is what I am. And in love. All in all, it's the same.

"What are you doing here?" I ask, our noses so close, it was ticklish.

"I was having tea with Aunt Susanne."

"I see."

She kisses me on the forehead, and I imagined her leaving a little kiss mark on the middle of my soot-covered forehead. She pulled away though, her face still clean, and the thought was left behind.

"Get back to work, love." She whispered, making me smile. I loved her voice. Light, pretty voice that could sing me to sleep. Has sung me to sleep.

"Yes, ma'am."

So I did as she asked of me as she settled herself at the dining table, legs crossed, knee over knee. She shook her wrist, her bracelets clinking against each other. A little habit of her's when she started to wear bangles. Another little bit of her that made her, well…her.

"I never heard." I spoke, the smell of bleach pungent in the fireplace. I scrubbed, trying my best to get out soot and creosote. "You know, that were you visiting."

"Are you sorry for it?" She asked me, shyly. I smiled, knowing she couldn't see it, but the action feeling good in and of itself anyway.

"A little."

She was probably smiling too, her bracelets clanking and clinking like bells. I wished I could've seen her, but here my face was face to face with a stone black-coated wall, instead. Such was the life of a servant. Not that I'm really sour about it; she, too, wasn't going anywhere either.

"You don't have anywhere to be?" I asked.

"No. Not at this moment."

I sat up, looking at my work, breathing in cleaner air. Looks clean. I threw the bush back into the basket of cleaning supplies, took out a rag, and dried it down. Almost done.

Natalia sits there, watching me. It's not awkward, but fine. It's like we've seen so much of each other, it's not like this is any different. Just another part of you, and I love you, so it's fine.

I think I'm rambling. I'll kindly shut up now. Fools in love tend to go on with describing love. So sorry. Hopefully none of your friends are madly in love and ramble to you all the time. All my condolences go to you if that's the case.

If you couldn't tell, I'm joking.

"She's like a mother."

"Who is?"

"Aunt Susanne."

"Well, she is Luke's mother."

"I meant like a mother to…to me."

"Oh. Really? Well, she does speak fondly of you."

Natalia was quiet for awhile. She spoke of her dead mother sometimes. She told me tidbits her father told her, and she'd try to piece it all together. Try to make this woman who would've been her mother, this lady she only saw in a portrait in her father's room. She'd make guesses and voice them to me, and seem just a tad bit sad. When I asked her if she missed her, she said yes. She had. The closest thing she had to a mother figure was her nanny, she would say. And, well, the madam, obviously.

I looked back to her for a moment, her bracelets midway on her forearm, done dancing on her wrist. Her elbow was still on the table, fingers in her palm, thumb held out, hand held backwards. She looks ahead, like she's thinking, which was probably the truth. Her eyes are half-lidded, her back is straight. I wonder if I should say something.

"She was nice to me as a child, too."

"Maybe it's because you're technically her daughter-in-law."

Natalia looks at me, serious. Taboo subject. Talking about the betrothal is a big no-no. I realize what I said, too late, and go back to wiping down the sides of the fireplace, just to avoid looking at her. Hurt in her eyes and a frown on her lips.

I know there's an end to this. I just don't like to think about it.

"I suppose so." She says, and it's silently agreed to move on from this subject. We never talk about it. We just don't want to. Ignoring it is easier and less painful then confronting it. So maybe the pain lasts a little longer, and to confront it would be like tearing off a bandage; quick and painful, but not as bad as you thought it would be. But the pain packs more of a punch than ignoring it does. So we just go on living like this.

It hasn't caused any problems yet. It might, but we ignore that too. We're fine, for now.

"Guy?"

"Hm?"

"How was your mother like?"

I freeze. My mother is buried underneath the sea. My father and sister and brethren and homeland are buried underneath the sea. Gone and murdered and eroded into sea dust. I sat up, done with the cleaning rag and throw that into the basket too. I take the bucket of water and bleach and dump what's left of it on the floor of the fireplace, watching it spread, staying where it should, made sure by the newspaper I had spread around the place. I watched the edges of the words dampen as it soaked what escaped. I thought of water swallowing up my family, making their bodies bloated and pale. Thought of all the rooms in my house, submerged, making the furniture float. I thought of another fireplace, of one I was placed in, and…

And I can't remember the rest. Obviously. I can remember Mary putting me in there, telling me to be quiet. There were screams, the stone of the fireplace was cold on my knees, and the soldiers were coming closer and closer, and then the door opened and…and the memory ends there. After that, all I remember is waking up on Pere's back, as he ran, as he carried me. It was night, but there was fire. This giant light, lighting up the night sky. I only realized it was my house, after we got to the port, after we boarded a boat and left our homeland forever.

I can remember crying out, begging for Pere to let me go back. Someone must be alive. Anyone. Someone has to be alive.

I stop thinking about Hod. Life's easier that way.

"Guy?"

"Yes?"

"I asked you a question."

"I know."

She's quiet at this. I wonder if she can hear it in my voice. No. She can't. She's not supposed to.

I stand up, stretching, my muscles achy and stiff. I'll let the water soak there, and mop it up later. For now, I must give it time, and decide to head to my room. I'm sweaty and dirty and in need of a bath, and I need to distract myself so I'll stop thinking. I need to think up a lie, or new subject so she won't get suspicious. This is another thing I decide to ignore; telling her my past. This is just something she's better off not knowing. Sure she loves me, and it'd be another part of me, so she'd love me nonetheless, but it's really wishful thinking. She's honestly not meant to know, because it's too much. She's not ready. When she's ready I'll tell her.

And I will never find her prepared enough to know.

I walk to my room, Natalia following without question, following me for my answers.

"My mother was a sweet lady." I tell her, watching my words so she can't take any hints or implication from it. "She was always very soft spoken."

True. My mother was a timid, sorrowful lady. From what I can remember, she was always soft eyed and quiet, observant. Hands clasped in front of her, and shy. The type of woman where she wore 'shy' very well, beautiful in her humble nature. As a child I was the same: shy and meek. Maybe that was where I got it.

"Was she kind?"

"Of course."

Somewhat lie. There were times she got angry. Mostly behind closed doors with my father or with a lady in waiting. My mother missed Kimlasca. She missed her family. But she was told she was a Malkuthian bride now, against her own wish, at the decreed of the king. Her homeland was Malkuth now. Her family was us now. I never met my mother's parents. I never met her sister's or brother's or their children and spouses. I wonder if she got used to it after awhile, got used to the idea, and decided fighting back was just futile. I wonder if she even truly loved my father. I'd have to ask Pere. Make sure he told the truth, since he was the only one alive with it.

I do know she never took it out on Mary and me, though. She always treated us with love. Never harsh or cruel to us. Just sweet and kind and patient. When she laughed, it was like a gift.

"What happened to her?" Natalia asks quietly, her heels quiet on the red carpet of the hallways. I shrug from where I walk, ahead of her, only allowing her a look at my back. I want to look at her eyes as I speak to her, but then she might know.

"She died in the war. Didn't I tell you this already? My parents are dead."

"Is it painful to speak of her?"

Yes. Somewhat. When I think of how they were killed I'm filled with both sadness and anger. I'm furious then, and I want to run to the main hall and seize my father's sword and cut down everything I've been planning to this whole time. I want to hurt people. Those with red hair and green eyes and innocence and no knowledge of why they're being hurt. I want to bring pain to the one who made me feel pain.

But I don't. I never do. I don't really want to anymore. Life goes on and feelings age and are replaced with something else. Like memories of a boy who can barely walk, his shoulders in my hands as I hold him up. Like the smile of a mother, asking me of how my day has been, thanking me for everything. The kiss of a lover who accepts me as I am, who whispers my name oh so pleasantly.

"A little." I answer.

I open the door to my room, and hear her sit on my bed. Room's empty of course. Just me, just her. I open the wardrobe and she goes on as I look for some clothes to change into.

"Guy, where are you from?"

I freeze again. She's getting daring. Not pulling any punches. Should I just change the subject? I decide to play dumb as I slide shirts to the side, examining them, hangers clacking against each other.

"What do you mean, sweetie?" I chuckle, as if she had told a joke. I throw the 'sweetie' in there just to remind her who I am again, what she could possibly ruin.

"Natalia." She corrects me.

Predictable.

"I know, I know." I laugh. "You call me 'love' sometimes. Why can't I call you 'sweetie'?"

"Because it's childish. 'Love' sounds more mature. And stop avoiding the question."

She's serious. Her voice sounds serious, and she doesn't take the bait I leave, to change the subject to something more light-hearted. I play dumb again.

"What question?"

"Where did you use to live, Guy? I know you moved here to Baticul; where did you live previously in Kimlasca? Sheridan?"

"I wish."

"Honestly speaking, Guy. Tell me."

And now she was ordering me to. Damn. I didn't think she'd get this suspicious about my past so quickly. I thought I had it all under control, all within my reach, under my eye. I guess she's too smart for that. Damn.

Well…what's wrong with telling her? Let me count the ways…

I tried to kill her fiancé. Of course that's not good; and even if she's in love with me now, they're still childhood friends, and she still wouldn't take it kindly. I'm from Malkuth. Kimlascans hate Malkuthians. As simple as that. Hell, she's their princess. That just puts the relationship on a whole other level of forbidden. It's too dangerous to tell her, because she might rat me out. Yes, I love her. Yes, I trust her. But this is just such a delicate thing, such a thing that could so easily ruin me, any sort of possible risk is a huge endangerment. I just can't take chances. This could mean my life here. My home, my friends. Damn…how did I get so involved in the enemy country? I'm more in danger than my intended victims are supposed to be.

Furthermore, Natalia was also included in my revenge. It's true. I wanted her to feel the same pain I did by murdering her father and her fiancé. I hated her when I first met her. She lived so nicely, so freely. I always thought to myself 'How can you be so happy after what your father has done to my family? My homeland?'

I hated her. I did.

And, at the moment, of course I don't. I've seen her be sad and I've seen her suffer. She's human, just like me. She has awful days, just like me. I sympathize with her. And I've seen her flaws and her flawlessness. Her good points, her pet peeves, her faults, her smiles, and frowns, and tears.

Somehow I've fallen in love with the one I used to hate. Life kinda does mean things like that. What a jerk.

In any case, it'd be really bad if she knew. I had to think up a lie. Why didn't I construct some fake past in case something like this happened? I'm so unprepared…

"Guy!"

I jumped, Natalia practically shrieking and I turned back to her, her eyes wide, clutching the edges of my bed. I blinked in confusion.

"What? What is it?"

She opened her mouth then closed it. I could see her cheeks getting red. Was she blushing? She finally took a deep breathe, composed herself, and pointed at me.

"I'd just like to know why you're stripping in front of me." She clarified, sarcasm lacing her words.

I furrowed my eyebrows in question and looked down, and okay, yeah, I was taking off my shirt. I jumped in shock, and quickly began to redress. I'd been so caught up in my thoughts I was just flowing with the motions, forgetting my surroundings. In a way, I found a way to change the subject, unintentionally, yet successfully. I scrambled with my apology, flustered and embarrassed, nonetheless.

"Natalia, I'm sorry, I forgot what I was doing and-!"

Then her silk gloved-hand was on my bare back. I stopped what I was doing, chills going up my back.

"What exactly were you doing?" She asked me, her voice still so light and dainty. I wondered where this was going, wondering if we were thinking the same thing. If I was right, then I could probably get her to forget this whole thing entirely.

"Changing to cleaner clothes. I was going to take a bath but…it would probably take too long."

"You're not that dirty, anyway."

I gulp, my mouth suddenly deciding to dehydrate itself. Her voice suddenly turns calm and everything is going quickly. I try to change the subject, keeping up this conversation, steering her away from the previous one.

"I'll change somewhere else if you want me to." I offered. Natalia stays quiet for awhile, leaving me in the dark. Then, she's shaking her head, her hair flying, then stopping. That mass of curly fair hair that she works so well.

"It…it is fine. You needn't do that."

Her hand travels down the middle of my back, and she pushes the shirt I was putting back on out of my hands with her other one. I don't put up much of a fight and she hugs me from behind, her body against my bare skin. Her cheek is soft against my spine, and her clothes are smooth and soft and so is she under them, I know.

I put my hands over her's, and they were small, and fit so well into my own. I laughed.

"You've seen me before; I can't believe you freaked out."

"I was surprised!" She laughed at my teasing, and somehow all the dark, deep questions swirled away, and I kept up the pace we were at so as to keep this whole mood with it. It was in my favor and I loved her, and there was nothing wrong with it.

Well, yes, there was. I didn't like the thought of making love with her just to change her mind, the subject, to distract her. I've never done it, and I hope this won't be the first time.

I slip off her bracelets for her, placing them on the desk with a soft clink. She places her forehead against my back and she's a head shorter than me, perfect to hold and put your chin on the top of her head.

"I'm not used to it, you know." She mutters into my back.

"To what?"

"Your body."

I turn to look at her, and she's looking up at me. Her eyes are so striking then. Hazel-green and soft. I have this sudden want to kiss her eyelids, one by one, before she goes to sleep.

Sorry. There I go with the gushing again. You have got to warn me when I start doing that.

I smile then, (or maybe a smirk; it felt like it) and tilt my head to the side.

"Really? Not yet?"

"Of course not." She frowns, looking away from me.

"Well," I smile and shrug, "you always insist on turning the lights off when we…"

"Guy!"

"Just saying, just saying." I chuckle, and she gives me a small hit on my back. It doesn't hurt at all though because she's being playful and there was a hint of laughter in her voice. She doesn't mind, and we go on teasing each other, because that's what lovers can do.

"Oh, and I should suppose you are not entirely uncomfortable with mine?"

"It's not like you're shy the morning after."

"I am comfortable with my body."

"But not with mine?"

"You're a man, Guy. My first time…" She trails off, realizing what she has said. Her voice drops and I can feel her reflecting on this statement. I feel her cheeks warming on my back. It seemed special to her. Sacred. The fact that it was me, and no one else. Someone she loved and chose and someone who loved and chose her. My Natalia, the romantic. I decide to break the comfortable air, flirt with her more, make sure she forgets any previous questions she could make again.

(Yes, I'm manipulating her. I know this, and I'm not proud of it. I didn't go around lying to her just for the kicks you know. I was doing my best to protect myself; I don't expect you to understand. That's fine if you do, and fine if you don't. It was a necessary evil.)

"So you've never seen a man's body?" I ask, nonchalant, already knowing the answer.

"Of course not! I…I am only seventeen, as you know."

"I know."

"And they wouldn't teach me such a thing! I…" she sighs, exasperated and flustered. "…As I said, you are my first time."

We stay quiet as I soak in her words. These are things I already know, should know through the process of deduction, of knowing who and how she is. But I coax her into saying it anyway, just to make the conversation go longer, just to keep it alive.

"…As I must suspect, you are the same." She then mutters, catching me off guard. I consider it for awhile then, look down, to the carpet, my boots and her sea-blue heels right behind them.

"Well, there's the case of my gynophobia." I agree. "You're the only woman I've ever been close to in awhile."

Her hold on me tightened and her forearms pressed into my sides, her small hands clasped together in front of my stomach, still wrapped up in my hand. I wonder if she felt honored by this fact, felt loved and special. I wanted her to feel that way, wanted to know I caused those feelings.

"I've seen you though." I smile, "Like I said, you're very bold about it."

"Do not say it so. It makes me sound…promiscuous."

I laugh because sometimes her vocabulary sounds so proper it sounds silly. She grew up in royalty and learned to talk like that, and in situations like this it always came out silly. Like wearing some gorgeous ball gown to a pub. Proper manners out of place in an improper setting. When it seemed better left at home along with the chintzy perfume or coral heels; it just wouldn't fit. The only time they're the wrong etiquette for once.

Natalia stands back a bit, and I look over my shoulder, catching the look on her face. Frowning, one eyebrow raised, somewhat offended, and somewhat confused.

"What is so funny? Do you think it is so?"

"Of course not." I grin. "Or maybe. Natalia the man-killer. Natalia the boy crazy. Natalia the heartbreaker." I laugh, and she hits me on the back again.

"Guy, don't say such things about me!"

"How many proposals have you turned down anyway?" I ask, a calm change of pace. She's quiet, and I go on. "You still get suitors don't you, despite your betrothal to Luke?"

"Sometimes. Father allows it because it's 'insurance'. Which, I think, is a particularly gruesome way to put it."

"So how many?"

"It depends. During this week, or month?"

That's when I start laughing again. It just seems like such a punch line, I laugh, and this catches her off guard. I go on teasing her, not to be mean, but just because I enjoy a good joke too. And this seems like such a comedic situation.

"You're a real catch. On the prowl for a new man to eat up." I'm cracking up now, at this very image of Natalia; wild hair and short skirts and high-heels. Looking for an unfortunate average Joe to string along, then dump him in six seconds flat. A real tigress on an endless journey of playing hard-to-get. I can't stop laughing. I swear, I really can't. It just doesn't fit her at all, the courteous princess of Kimlasca. It's so outrageous it's hilarious.

"Guy, don't make up things like that!"

"Natalia the man-killer. Natalia the boy crazy. Natalia the heartbreaker" I repeat and keep cracking up. She's laughing too now, and it's just the two of us, laughing and laughing and this is good, because we're dating. People who fall in love with their best friends are choosing the best person to fall in love with. Because with a best friend you can act like a total idiot and still know they'll love you at the end of a giggle fit. Because you two have more things to talk about then the other person's breathtaking eyes, or about how madly you love them. Love's more then angsting and lusting and drama; sometimes love can just be snuggling up to them in front of a fireplace and telling a joke, or a funny thing that happened to you that day, and they'll laugh right with you.

When we're done, and catching our breath, the silence that always follows belly laughs settles in. She tickles me then, and I go back to where I started, laughing and pushing away her hands. She hugs me to herself, and stops, and it's so comfortable and feels good, it's hard to describe.

"You shouldn't tell lies."

"About you?"

"Mm. I'm not a man-killer. Nothing of the sort. I don't mean to have all these suitors."

I'm grinning, but decide not to laugh again, to let it past. I kid her instead. "I guess a man-killer wouldn't be so embarrassed to see me change."

"Guy!"

"Just saying, just saying." I sing-song again and she sighs. We let things slide with each other. I know, at the moment, that I've completely detoured her from the previous conversation, to her possibly getting to know the truth, and this is good. Still, because I love her and because I'm still selfish, I want more. Nonetheless, I want more. Without any comment, her arms are dropping to her side, and maybe she decided it was time to go, or that she was tired of holding me. I grab her wrists though, and lean down to kiss her, and she's surprised; I can feel it. But she wants it, too (I also feel that) and leans into the kiss, leans her head to the side, and it feels good. And it feels like love.

When we break apart, I smile (or smirk) and drop a hint.

"We could do something about that; I've got some time, you know."

And she takes it.

Before I know it, we're on my bed, and I'm still lacking my shirt, and I'm struggling with the buttons on the back of her dress, and we're kissing till we're out of breath, till we have to come up for air.

It's embarrassing to admit it. I'm not really eager to talk about what has happened in my love life. It feels like…well lewd. I guess. I can't think of a good word for it, but that's the first one that pops up, so I guess that's what I'll use. (Once again, using proper words where they don't belong. It sounds silly doesn't it? It sounds silly to me, but oh well.) I'm actually blushing really hard as I remember this; I guess I'm still a little timid? Or am I just being human? Stuff like this, between us, didn't seem so dirty. I guess, with things like this, only lovers would understand the feelings involved, and to other people it just seems like rapid, mad instinct. It's too much to explain in words, and no one else but they can understand it between them. Something like that?

Well, whatever. We made out. We never got to the sex. Something happened. I forgot to lock the door and that was what screwed it all up.

I never noticed because I was lost in her. Her scent and touch and warmth, and she was the same. Whispering my name, so quick, and saying she loved me, she loved me, she loved me. Toned breath and gasps, not even actually speaking. I could feel the skin of her shoulder on my lips as I kissed there, hard, and her arms were wrapped around my shoulders, her fingers tangled up in my hair. She was lying down and I was on top of her and the passion just poured out. She was whispering my name so much: Guy, Guy, Guy. That's what she kept saying, and because it was so close to my ear, I never heard the door opening. Guy, Guy, Guy she was breathing and cooing, and I never saw his eyes widening, and I never saw Natalia throw her head back and say someone else's name. In shock, not passion.

"Luke?!"

"Guy?! Natalia?!"

Caught.

I was the one who dragged Luke inside the room, out of the hallway, after scrambling and getting my shirt barely on, not even buttoned up. It was Natalia who closed the door behind him, locked it (although a tad bit late then when we should've), then fixing the buttons on the back of her dress. The two of us acting on instinct, a tag team of sorts, dealing with the new, but familiar witness. I had sat Luke on my bed and he just looked at me, dumbfounded, flustered, confused and I suddenly felt so bad for him. It was like we were kidnapping him, or planning to make him die with the secret.

What a lovely, sweet, little couple me and my Natty made. Partners in crime.

Also for the record, we were still decently clothed and we did not scar Luke for life. Just wanted to get that out of the way. At least we avoided that sin.

And then there was this big, fat silence where no one said anything. The bomb was let off, and the damage was done, and it was that moment of quiet where you know, in the back of you're mind, it can only go worse from here. Luke first looked from me, then to Natalia. He kept his eyebrows up, justifiably confused and shocked.

"Were you guys…" he began, slowly, "…making out just now?"

"No!" Natalia yells, shaking her head, her hair a mess, her headband a bit crooked. "That…that wasn't…I mean, Luke, look this is…!"

She falls short, her voice falling low, waiting for someone to fill in the blank for her. And by the way she begins to look at me for help, my heart beating fast with worry, I guess it was going to be me.

"Luke," I gulp, running my hands through my hair, the other on my hip, "Natalia and I…She and I are having an affair."

And there. It's out. No point of return from here.

Luke blinks once. Then twice. He looks more awake and alert then he has in weeks. This is probably the most entertaining thing that's happened to him in days even. I don't look at Natalia, because I'm afraid of how she looks. Was that not what she wanted me to say? Maybe she wanted to be the one to say it. Or maybe she looks sad because the secrets out now, and she knows there's no way to take it back.

"Having an…affair?' He asks, trying the word out. I then realize, Luke would have no idea about racy stuff like this. It's more painful to know I'm going to have to explain it to him. The shame will definitely sink in then, like I'm explaining to myself too about what I've done. I sigh, put my hand on my forehead, slide it down so that it covers my mouth and I look Luke straight in the eye. He looks confused, he looks so worried. My poor Luke…stumbling onto things you were never meant to know. I look to Natalia too, and she looks so scared, asking me with her eyes What's going to happen to us now? Oh, my poor love…time has run out for us. I sigh a loud sigh again, and slump my shoulders. I busy myself with buttoning my shirt, head ducked down, and I explain.

"It's…Look, Luke, it's like this. Natalia and I are dating behind your back."

I wait for a reaction. I realize then, Luke probably doesn't…

"So? That's all?"

…doesn't care. At all. He never liked the engagement and he's never wanted any part of it. Luke's probably the best person to find out, if there was no choice but to tell someone. I realize then, we're fine. It's going to be okay. And at that moment I just want to hold Luke and tell him thank you and thank you over again, because it was him and nobody else who opened that door. That door who could've let someone more of a risk inside.

"You are not…surprised?" Natalia asks. Was that…a hint of hurt in her voice? No; it's just my imagination. Yeah.

"Well, yeah, I am." Luke shrugs. "But well…alright. That's okay. It's none of my business what you guys do."

Yes. Yes! I was right! Everything was okay, and I sigh in relief this time. Okay, so maybe Luke had a chance of letting it slip, but I'd make sure it'd be fine, and that's what it was now; fine. We were okay. Safe. Nothing could go wrong. I could feel the tense air leave and all was okay. All was fine. All fixed in a matter of minutes, surprisingly enough. Count on Luke to make things the opposite of needlessly complicated, no matter what he was involved in.

"I mean," he went on, "Yeah, we're engaged and all, but-"

"Luke, I'm so sorry! The engagement-!"

"I don't care about that." He cut her off, hands held in front of him, palms facing her. "I never cared about that. You know that. If you want to be with Guy, then fine. Just…just lock the door next time. Jeez, I thought you guys were going to murder me or something!"

"Make you die along with the truth, you mean?" I laugh. He grins.

"Yeah. You guys were so serious."

Luke and I are joking, and I know he'll probably ask more questions about us, and I'll answer them, probably, depending. Depending on a lot of things. But, for the moment, the matter is settled, and we're fine. Caught, but caught by the safest option. It was fine. I was fine. Luke was fine.

But Natalia wasn't.

From the corner of my eye, I saw her looking at us bemused. Speechless. Her eyes are wide and confused, like there was something wrong with this scene. She looks small and fragile, her hair astray and her dress awkward on her body, the bodice shifted a bit. She's small and pale and looks so…heartbroken?

Why?

"Luke." She speaks, hesitant with her words, wondering what she's saying and what she'll say next.

"Yeah?"

She begins to say something, then doesn't. She looks away from him, to her hands, to the ground, her feet. Anywhere but him. I feel uneasy as I see this. Very uneasy. Like something's wrong, something I can't see, but so obvious. She gulps, and looks to him again with those soft hazel-green eyes.

"The promise…" She trails off, only reminding him, saying nothing else. I look to Luke where he sits back on his hands, calm and lazy all over again.

"Forget it, Natalia." He shrugs, "That was a long time ago. I can't remember it anyway. Just forget it, okay?"

With this, her eyes widened and she looked so shocked and…it was like he broke her heart right there with how she looked at him. And later, confessed by her, he actually had. While I had found Luke to be the one person I'd rather know about us, Natalia would admit to me later that he was the last person she wanted to let learn of it.

All because of the promise he never even knew.

All because of that goddamn promise.

Luke asked questions, just as I thought.

"So when did you guys start dating?"

It never mattered where or when to him. The moment he was alone, he would ask those questions, whatever came to mind, whatever kept his boredom at bay. (For instance, the previous one came when I was brushing his hair.) Sometimes I wondered if he honestly cared, or if he was just being curious. It was probably the latter; Luke has never expressed and sort of romantic attraction to Natalia, and I guess he probably never will. Luke's never had any sort of experience with love; there were more important things to worry about. Remembering and growing up all over again. At his age, it might have been important, but because of the kidnapping it just…wasn't. Just a four-lettered word with a definition never really lived out. It wasn't a priority, but a possible luxury.

"Two years ago."

"That long?"

"Yup."

"…I can't believe you put up with her for that long."

He made sure to keep it a secret. I told Luke the consequences of our actions. I could be fired, or maybe even executed, and Natalia would be a disgrace. Bad things would happen. I told him, 'Why do you think we're keeping it a secret?' He understood, and he seemed a bit overwhelmed. This was a serious matter he knew now.

"Why can you touch her?"

"Huh?"

"Your phobia. I thought you hated women."

"I don't hate them Luke; I just can't get near them."

"Then why can you touch her?"

This was asked after we had sparred for a bit. We were resting on the steps that led to his room, the sun beating down on us. We shared a water bottle between us, and he asked the questions again. His unending interest. At his last question, I shrugged.

"I don't know, I just…can."

"That doesn't make sense."

"It's like…well, it's like love does amazing things, Luke. Maybe it's because I love her so much that I ignore the fear."

He took a swig of water and sighed afterwards, cicadas buzzing lazily in the air. There was a musky scent of pollen and the smell of the sea, warm and heated. It was summer and summer was hot and lazy and I felt the same. The back of my neck felt sticky from the sweat, the smell of fresh-cut grass also permeating through the air. My limbs felt tired and loose and clouds rolled by, chasing each other with the speed of snails.

"Well…" Luke finally said, "…that sounds really cheesy."

As I said, Luke wasn't experienced to love. He knows the love of a mother and a friend and of the servants and a master, but not the love of a lover. The most intense and thrilling love out there. He's too young to know, I think, so I think it's fine if he doesn't try it just once for now. I realized then, though, when I answered his questions I was the only exposure to this type of love he had. It was second-hand knowledge, somewhat advice and anecdotes given, but this is the only time he got to learn it. So I chose how I spoke carefully, not giving too much, nor too little.

Give too much love and he'll be cautious. Give too little and he'll be confused.

It was a delicate procedure; teaching someone love. Raising a child with love.

(I'm referencing to my previous talk, if you couldn't notice. I never really considered Luke my child, per se, but more so a little brother of sorts.)

"Why Natalia?"

"Why not?"

This occurred as he wrote in his journal, midday, sitting at his desk. His head on his hand and elbow on surface, not turning to look at me. He let me rest on his bed, and I just laid there above the covers. Tired from chores that day, too much physical stress for my poor, little, frail body to handle. (Alright not really; I was just being lazy.) I laid there, trees rustling outside, staring at his ceiling. His window was open from when I made my entrance, and he left it open, the breeze nice. It was peaceful, just hanging out with him like that.

"Well, she's kind of naggy, don't you think?" He went on, his pen smooth and noiseless as he wrote. I looked over to him, his shoulder moving a bit as he wrote, his head ducked down. His hair was longer now, reaching the middle of his back. It was a pain to brush now, but I didn't really mind that much.

"True." I nodded, even if he couldn't see me, "But she's got her good points, too."

"Like what?"

"Well," I began, looking toward the ceiling again, "she's very inspiring. Strong and powerful. I love that. Strength. It's just so…attractive. Very determined. Very elegant."

Luke stays quiet. I wonder if he's even listening anymore or if he just blocked me out, all those words just flying over his head and out the open window. I continue anyway.

"She's ladylike. And I like ladylike. When a woman is graceful and refined, but strong too, it's just so beautiful, you know?" I sighed a lovelorn sigh without thinking and my heart swelled. It felt good to gush this to someone, like I had something so wonderful I wanted to share it with everyone. It was the same feeling I got when I yelled to all of Baticul how I loved their precious princess all from an elevator. Something that had felt so right.

Luke's shoulder is still moving a bit, and I wonder if he heard any of that. I don't care though, because someone is finally listening to how I feel, and I like to brag about it. I laugh.

"She's cute to boot, too. That's a plus."

Finally Luke stopped in his writing and put the pen down. He closed his notebook and there's a shuffling of paper and clothes as he put his supplies away. He looked back to me, turning around in his chair. The look on his face is that of exasperation, the type that said 'Oh boy, what am I going to do with you?'

"You're so lost, Guy. If you go on, I'll hurl."

I think he understood. He accepted the relationship and he didn't feel like interfering. He told me once he didn't want anything bad to happen. He admitted he wanted me to be happy. Natalia, too, even. She wasn't that bad when she wasn't nagging him he said. She was pretty decent, and he thought she should deserve to be happy, too. Luke gave us his blessing, and that made me glad. He never told anyone, not even Master Van, and he was the best person who could've found out. This was good. Everything was good.

But he did make me question things. Those growing up are honesty and innocence personified. They don't know they have to be secretive sometimes, that sometimes people must fake things like kindness or attention or interest or sadness. They don't understand the social rules of ignoring what we can't or don't want to handle, of how we are so weak that we will have to act as if everything is okay sometimes just to look in control, just to impress others.

Luke didn't know that. So he asked the question I always just shrugged off, one night, when he should've been asleep. He told me he had been hit with a sudden case of insomnia, after he shook me awake in my bed. So I kept him company in the quiet manor; all shadows and moonlight and starlight through the windows. We hung out in the drawing room, drinking hot chocolate just because it was fall and Baticul got chillier at night during fall. He had his knees to his chest as he sat in one of the dining room chairs and I just laid my head against the table, fighting off sleep for him.

"Hey, Guy?"

"Mm?"

We were the only noises in the whole place. Well, save a few White Knights clinking armor, but it was relatively more a soft sound than you would think. They made their rounds in the halls, having greeted Luke and me when we passed by them. It should've been an unusual sight, but he was the Duke's son and you were meant to stay out of his way, anyway.

"Why can't you and Natalia just get married?"

I looked at him through half-lidded eyes, heavy and begging to be shut. He took a sip of his hot chocolate, my mug still near me, warmth radiating off it.

"Because she's betrothed to you, Luke."

"What if I broke off the engagement or told them I didn't want to or something?" He asked, as he held the mug with both hands, all curled up and awake. Lucky guy.

"That's really unlikely." I sighed, and shrugged, "Besides, even if you did I'm still a servant. It's forbidden."

I sat up, my limbs achy as they always got in the cold; loose and panging and toes all scrunched up. Biting cold. Achy want of sleep. I took a sip of my hot chocolate hoping it would be a cure for my horrible symptoms. Tonight's night was the type where everything was silent, where everything was still and you could see the breath in front of you. I took a look at Luke's feet, bare and I worried about him. Had he walked all the way from his room to mine just to have company? It was plenty warm in his room and the whole manor, but I still worried about him. Braving brief cold…he was such a child sometimes.

The hot chocolate went down warm, a sudden heat I drank slowly for. It filled my whole core and it felt good. I can still remember having to make this for me and him; I didn't want Luke to wake up the cook just for us and two cups of coco, so I took on the task. At least Luke was enjoying it and not complaining.

"Hey, Guy? Can I ask you something?" Luke asked, all curled up, both hands on his mug still the same. If he had a blanket around his shoulders, he could pose for the perfect cozy portrait if he wanted to.

"Sure. Shoot."

Luke was like a child, and children are innocence and honesty personified. Luke didn't know the untaught rules of the social world. Questioning what should not be questioned, and voicing opinions that should never be considered. It's the only way I can excuse the reason behind his next question, the question I've never asked, but should.

"Why does it matter if you're a servant? It doesn't make sense. What's wrong with that? Why's that the only reason you guys can't get married?"

I froze for awhile and stared into the dark brown of my hot chocolate. I registered his words, repeated them in my head. He asked the question that no one should ask, that should be ignored.

"I mean," he continued, "I don't care if you're a servant. What does it have to do with anything anyway? It's a pretty flimsy reason."

It was. And he wasn't meant to point that out, but disregard it.

It was a question I asked, but never actually did. Never really considered more so. It was just common knowledge, something you should never scrutinize. Obvious and silly to fight against. Of course I've thought of it. Sometimes I wanted to marry her, I wanted the relationship to be known, and I didn't like sneaking around. But, as I said, I've felt this sometimes. I figured if I wanted it too much, if I tried anything, it would be too risky. I decided to just stay like this with her, her secret lover, and savor what I could get. I would ask for too much otherwise and…and well, I didn't want to endanger her. It was one of the promises I made to myself when I found out she wanted to be with me, when she ran to me, to the port, in the rain, soaked and beautiful.

What? Huh? Oh, well yeah, technically I'm not a servant. I'm actually the son of a count.

But it's probably better for her to want to marry a Kimlascan servant rather than a Malkuthian noble.

As I slid down in my seat, resting my head in my crossed arms on the table, I could feel Luke's eyes on me. Sleepy, half-lidded green eyes, with their skeptical gaze, their bored image as usual. When he looked like that, it was like he was judging you, deeming if you were worthy or interesting enough. I think his face was just stuck that way. That, or he really needs to get out of this house. Some adventure. There's only so much sword training that can satisfy one's hunger for an exciting escapade.

But I guess he was less destructive and wild here. In any case.

"Guy?" he spoke, "You still awake?"

"Yeah."

"Don't you think it's silly?"

I blinked, once then twice, blinking away the want of sleep. I shrugged from where I lay.

"Yeah, but…but that's just how it is, Luke. It's frowned upon it's…that's just how it is." I sounded distant, like I wasn't really all here, and I wasn't even sure why. Maybe it was because I was seriously considering his words, questioning the rules myself. Hell, it might've been because I was sleepy and tired.

It was just how it was, I told myself too. What could I do? What, go pleading to her father for her hand in marriage? Reveal my true identity? If I did that, I might as well ask the Knights to hang me right then and there.

This was just something that we couldn't fight against. That's just how it was.

"Well, that's stupid." Luke huffed, placing his mug down, circling his arms around his legs, chin on his knees. He pouted ahead, like something before him was offending, something deemed dreary by those green eyes. I didn't say anything to his words, because there was nothing to say to that, and because I was focusing on staying awake. For him and for us.

There was some silence, and I was sure he had dropped the subject or had most likely lost interest in it. I was tempted to take another sip of my hot chocolate, but worried the sugar would keep me awake, so I didn't.

"Guy, kings can make laws and stuff right?" Luke suddenly piped up. I closed my eyes, and decided not to think too deeply into where this led; I was too tired to.

"They can."

"Okay, then. I've decided."

I opened one eye and looked at him. He looked determined, his head raised just a bit. Alert, awake, motivated. To do what, I found out.

"When I become king, I'm going to make it so that all servants have to be treated equal. Then I'll un-marry Natalia, and you can have her. How's that sound?"

I almost laughed. It sounded like such a kid's solution, like things were that simple. No, I wasn't being bitter. Touched, is probably the better word for it. Luke was still a child in mind, in manner. He didn't know the unknown social rules of this world, but he also didn't know the cruelty of her either. He didn't know the troubles and trials he would cause if he took that road. The scandal of it and the humiliation. It honestly seemed that simple, that clean-cut, that easy to him.

And I found that endearing. Pure Luke. Pure, noisy, and selfish Luke, but pure Luke nonetheless. I hoped he never saw the horrors of the world. Or, if he had to, at least be exposed to it little by little rather than all at once. It is better to catch a glimpse of the light, than be blinded by it in all its bright glory.

How he offered this to me, I was impressed of course. I smiled a sleepy smile, and sat up, shaking my head. I laughed a little anyway. Luke looked at me with furrowed brows, confused green eyes.

"What? What's so funny?" He asked, somewhat offended, more so embarrassed. I looked at him with a lop-sided smirk, with tired, judging eyes. (Which he told me about later.)

"You're so sappy, Luke. If you go on, I'll puke."

He gave me a playful punch in the arm. And I laughed again, at him, my informal friend and master.

Natalia hadn't spoken to me since the incident in my room. I think she was avoiding me. It's probably that. My Natty worries too much, she dramatizes sometimes. I hope she hasn't gotten sick. Luke had assured us twenty-three times over that he wouldn't tell anyone. Had she found that a faulty truth though? Or was she worried about something else? Maybe she was being more cautious without asking my opinion on it.

It had been two weeks since then and these were the thoughts that went around and around in my head. Broken records, circuitous ideas and rambles. So that was why, when I found some free time, I decided to see her. She hadn't asked me to come, and I didn't tell her, but with Sophie's help, I went to see her anyway.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Said person whispered to me, as we walked through one of the hallways, her head looking this way and that for anyone else. "I mean, she's not prepared to see you, right?"

"Yeah, but…" I trailed off, my voice low just as well, "…I want to surprise her, ya know? It'll be fine."

She cast me a skeptical look, but said nothing to this, and urged me to hurry on. There aren't any good excuses for me to be there, anyway, she said.

And when I finally reached her room, the door I noticed, the paintings on the wall that lead to it I recognized, my heart rose. Yeah, it would be fine. Comfort her, kiss her, and talk it out. It'll be fine. Simple, and clean-cut, and that easy. Except as soon as Sophie opened the door, as soon as I saw her, and she caught my eyes, her face fell. Her mouth dropped opened, her eyes widened, and soon her face just changed into a wince. Like tasting something foul. Confused was what it made me.

"Guy?" She asked, confused in a non-endearing way. Like you were just acting strange and stupid. This hurt a bit, but I decided to go on, and walked up, hugging her. She stiffened under my touch; this wasn't turning out as I had imagined it at all.

"Miss me?" I grinned, going on nonetheless. It was when Natalia pushed me away that I realized she wasn't in the mood to act the part as I had imagined for her. She looked at me with furrowed eyebrows, a very un-cute annoyed look.

"You can't be here." She stated firmly. I blinked dumbly.

"Why not?"

"I'm meeting my tailor soon. You have to leave soon."

"You're getting new clothes?"

She frowned even deeper and I realized that was a very stupid thing to ask. She sighed an obviously annoyed sigh and looked at me like I was an idiot. "Yes. Some new dresses. Formal wear. Look, Guy, you should-"

"Wait," I cut in, "I came here to…to talk about Luke."

I got her attention with that, and she looked at me with uncertainty, then turned her head away. I frowned, and knew that we would have to talk about this all serious like; no room for a comfortable talk, or a stress-free conversation like I had wanted. She would have none of that, with how she acted. Neither of us would. Well, oh well. The world's not perfect, and neither are we.

"…What of Luke?"

"We haven't talked since he found out you know."

"I know." She spoke solidly. I felt like asking her why she had ignored me, but decided that it was better to get to the point than go on random threads of conversation that would result in firm and unsatisfying conclusions and decisions. I bit my lower lip and tried to decide on where I was headed anyway and just spoke whatever seemed plausible and inoffensive.

"…Are you alright?" I asked softly, like she had gone through something horrible. Natalia looked back at me slightly, mildly confused. She shook her head, eyebrows raised and face fine, just fine.

"Of course I am, Guy. What sort of question is that?" She asked, her voice light and dainty as always. I shrugged.

"Well, we were found out. You're not worried?"

"…I am."

Natalia looked away from me again, and for some reason or another I wanted to see her hazel-green eyes. I wanted to see them for the comfort they would provide, the beauty they were. However, Natalia was more than beauty and this relationship was more than hugs and kisses and warm, tingly feelings. There were such things as raising a child with love, and it's heavily recommended to raise him with discipline too. Lovers' relationships were just the same. Show me love, sweetheart. But show me why love isn't always fun and games too. I'll grow up properly that way.

She wouldn't meet my eyes when I asked her what she was worried the most about. She didn't answer. Natalia was deep in thought, like contemplating what I could know and what I couldn't. I learned later that this was the truth. Cruelly enough, it was the truth.

"Natalia?"

She frowned deeply, and crossed her arms, leaning on one leg. She looked at me and shook her head, beginning to shake her arm, those bracelets dancing, putting on their own show.

"It is silly isn't it? Luke has assured us that he would keep it a secret, yet still I worry. I just…Perhaps I am cautious, yes?"

For some reason this sounded faked, fabricated, an excuse. I let it slide, though, just this once. Maybe it'd be ammo for a later fight, if she kept this up.

I don't know why, but things seemed wrong. Off. Something was different with her and she just refused to look me in the eye; forsake me the want to see her eyes. She seemed guilty, seemed shameful. Of what? This was what irked me, not what I expected. It was a giant problem in the room that no one but I noticed. It was…very troubling. Maybe this was why I was suspicious of her. Maybe.

"Don't worry, alright?" I smiled, banishing these thoughts, "We'll be fine."

"I know." She forced a smile. "I know."

This seemed scripted for some reason. I wish I could just open the windows and let this tense mood air out into the city, somewhere else, not with us. But life's not that simple, so I just change the subject.

"I thought you'd be sad." I laughed. She looked confused, still not looking at me, but instead clanging and clinging those bracelets, her arms somewhat crossed still.

"Why is that?"

"Well, with how Luke shrugged off that promise you two made, I thought you'd be sad. It was special to you right?"

She was quiet. Deathly quiet. Her bangles still sang, but she remained silent, like a quiet ventriloquist as they let something else speak their voice. I tried to catch her eye, but she wouldn't turn to look at me; instead she seemed solemn. I noticed her eyes went downcast at the words, looking at her feet, or the floor, anything that wasn't me. It bothered me when I can't look someone in the eye when I speak to them. And right now, she was doing this on purpose, doing it not to bother me, but to fulfill some other wish she had. To not see me, to not see her love. Why?

Unasked and unanswered question. Between the lines and written in the margins. Things we skim over because they aren't the fine, rigid, black print. Things like that are dangerous. Consequences waiting to happen. Communication is key, they say, in a relationship. I lost that key, or chose not to use it. Either way, I ignored it at this moment. And I went on.

"…It was." She struggled to say, her arms still shaking with the bracelets. I smiled, trying to cheer up the mood.

"Have you given up on marrying him? Because of me?" I asked, laughing, trying to make a joke. How it was funny, I don't know. I just wanted it to be. I wanted it to be funny and true.

Long silence again. If I had a Gald piece for every time she refused to answer right at the moment, I'd be rich like I should be. Her arms stopped and her bracelets stopped dancing and singing, and laid to rest halfway on her forearm. She looked at me, but avoided my eyes, and…she looked sad. Solemn. Quiet and confused. Wasn't sure what to do and gave off this feeling like she felt guilt. Shame. Saying sorry without really saying it. For what, I didn't know yet. Not yet. My heart would break later. Don't worry, it would. Just not yet.

"Guy?" She asked then, her voice sounding distant and away, "Your collar."

"Huh?"

She pointed at her neck to indicate what she was talking about. "Your collar. Chocker. Where did you get it?"

I grabbed for it, fingers wrapping around the charm, like I had to make sure it was still there or something. It was a quick instinct and I just as soon dropped my hand. It was a weird question she asked, out of nowhere and not at all related to the conversation. I raised an eyebrow at her and gave what I think was a skeptical look.

"Where did this come from all of a sudden?"

"I just noticed, was all." She shrugged, acting nonchalant. "You don't have to answer if you don't wish to."

It was such an obvious turn from the subject, it made me second guess my deduction. Maybe there wasn't a hidden meaning behind it? Maybe she wasn't trying to avoid the question? She honestly didn't care about the engagement, and she was just wondering about my collar. Yeah. Completely normal…? Right? I gulped, and fingered my the charm again, smooth and warm under my touch. I smiled at her, just going along with it.

Maybe this moment would be more ammo for a later fight. If it happened.

Which I didn't want it to.

"It was a birthday present." I told her.

The truth. A birthday present from Mary. I received it a year before the attack, when I had been five. She had grinned and said that it showed my true status as a noble. Wear gold, Gailardia, and people will respect you; will know where you come from. Walk with pride and wear it well, and many people will respect you. I had frowned though and shook my head. I said to her 'Mary, I wanted a puppy. Not a necklace.'

I still laugh inwardly when I remember this. I had been a kid, after all. And because Mary was Mary she had ruffled my hair so that my scalped burned and told me to be more thankful. Strong and tough Mary. I still remember her well. I still wear the collar so I won't forget who I am, so I won't forget her. I am Gailardia, son of Count Gardios. No longer do I want revenge, but never will I fail to remember the blood that runs in my veins, neither. Natalia tilts her head to the side, those blonde waves falling too.

"Is that so? How old were you?"

"Five."

"May I see it?"

I reach behind my neck, undoing the clasp. When I hand it to her, the lack of weight on my neck is noticeable. It's been with me for so long it's like another part of me now. She holds it in her hand, turns it over, and holds it up by the strap, so that it hangs. There's something so surreal in the image of her taking in my one and only symbol of aristocratic background. My beautiful Natalia and her hazel-green eyes, and the glinting gold charm. I waited for her inevitable question, and prepared to say my answer, my line in the play.

"Is this gold?"

"Yeah, it is."

She looks at me astonished, eyes torn away from my chocker. She furrows her eyebrows then.

"That's…was your family well-off, perhaps?"

I can hear a hint of hopefulness in her voice. I'm not sure why it's there, but I shrug it off.

"No." I laugh an embarrassed laugh, scratching the back of my head, "It was a present from a family friend. It was a long time ago."

Little lies to protect ourselves. To protect her. From what? The disheartening truth, of course.

"Oh." She responds. Disappointed tone. "That is too bad."

"Why?" I ask, generally confused. She smiles a sad smile and looks at me.

"If you had come from an established family then there could've been a chance for us." She shrugs, a bit solemn in how she looks, eyes turned downcast. It reminds me of my mother, the way a woman could wear shy so well.

And I'm touched by this, reminded that I am madly in love with her. I let go of all the skepticism and suspicions and just see Natalia, lovely Natalia. How did she sway me so easily, have so much control? I swear all she has to do is cut off my hair, and the story is complete.

I bet no one got that reference. Look up Delilah and Samson and educate yourself.

In any case, she's smiling bashfully and then shakes her head, laughing a little.

"Ah, I desire too much, don't I? My apologies."

"No, it's fine. I…It sounds good anyway."

"Yes, but still. It is only wishful thinking."

No, it's the truth. But it comes at a price. I think to myself. I let go of all these sour thoughts about the past, too, and just try to be blind to pain. Instead I walk over to her, and wrap arms around her shoulders. She slides into them, her arms around my waist. We're no longer walking on eggshells and avoiding subjects and keeping secrets. Right now, we're just lovers. Blind and comfy and happy.

"You act like one, though." She whispers. I put a cheek to the top of her head.

"Like what?"

"A noble."

"Really?"

"Like a gentleman. Kind and polite." She looks up to me, smiling. "It makes you fascinating."

She's flirting. I ease into this too, lowering my voice, making it soft and playful.

"Oh? So I charmed you?"

"So much ego." She chides with a grin. I stroke her hair. Flirting with her is the best. It's not too awkward, and it's not too racy. Classy enough to suit her, and comfortable enough to suit me.

"Ah, but wasn't it you who said you found me fascinating?"

"I said you were, not that I thought of you as so." She shrugs off playfully. "Although, you are terribly handsome. If that helps."

I laugh, "So just a pretty face and nothing else?" I kiss her cheek, and feel it blush under my lips. Pull back and whisper right there "Not even a good kisser?"

She's speechless for awhile, trying to regain composure, and finally clears her throat, face red and eyes avoiding mine. "W-Well, I can't really be certain of that. Perhaps if you were to prove it to me."

And then I'm blushing. It's when Natalia says something so daring that it really gets me. Really catches me off guard. Really makes me interested.

"Is that a challenge?"

"No, merely a suggestion." She says lightly with confidence, back on sure footing again. "You may take it, if you so wish."

And I smiled at her, and she smiled at me, and I knew then I didn't want to back down from her. So I leaned down and caught her lips, and…

Then the door slammed open and we both jumped in surprise, away from each other. Sophie looked at us from there with wide eyes, her breath a bit ragged.

"General Cecille is coming to see you."

"What?!" Natalia exclaims, shaking her head, "But she never said she was visiting!"

"My apologies, your Highness, but she says it's urgent." Sophie frowns, and motions her eyes toward me when she says "You should get ready."

Natalia looks to me, eyes wide and scared. "You have to get out of here." She tells me rushed, and it's like all the alarms are off, danger only a few staircases away. I suddenly feel the hasty threat, too, and shake my head, making sure to not forget reason.

"I can't; she'd notice."

"Then what-?"

"Maybe," Sophie pipes in, voice steady, "he should hide somewhere? Most likely where General Cecille will not look." She has her eyes moving around the room, then quickly adds, "If that is alright, your Highness."

Natalia nods quickly, not hesitating, "Of course. But where…"

"The bathroom?" I suggest. Sophie shakes her head.

"The maids are coming to clean it soon."

"My closet!" Natalia proclaims, satisfied. She looks at me and smiles reassuringly. "My walk in closet. Hopefully that will be sufficient?"

"That sounds good." Sophie nods, and motions for me to follow. "I'll show you. Hurry."

So we do, and I'm successfully hidden, and as soon as Sophie closes the door on me, the door to Natalia's room opens. I hear footsteps, then General Cecille's voice.

"Your Highness. It is a pleasure."

"No, no, the pleasure is mine." Natalia speaks eloquently and calmly. She really is a proper lady, acting like everything is fine, keeping her grace. "There was something you wished to convey to me?"

"Yes, it concerns Daath."

They say some things about factions and war in the middle of the Order, something about the Grand Maestro and the Fon Master. She asks for Natalia's stance on it, and then I just block it all out, and let their words fly above my head. It's none of my business and it's nothing I particularly care about right now. It's dark in her closet (more like a hallway then a closet, by the way), and I feel so close to being discovered, that I even try to make my breathing sound quiet.

"Why do you ask such a thing, General?"

"Well, a fight of sorts had broken out at the sanctuary today…

"Oh my! Was anyone hurt?"

"Not badly. My soldiers broke it up. I was worried what the public would do if they found out about what side you're on, so-"

I look around, seeing barely in front of my eyes. I reach out a hand, immediately feeling silk and lace. A dress. When I squint, I see dozens of them. Ballgowns and everyday dresses, even her outfit she wears for the Coliseum, rounded hem and puffy sleeves. It reminds me of that night, as soon as I spot it. Sometimes, even on the journey we went on with Luke and the others, it still did. It was more embarrassing then anything else.

I see her training clothes, probably the only pair of pants she owned. She was so womanly, I swear.

I reach out a hand, brushing it along the bodice and skirt of another dress. Rich fabric meant for a royal to wear. There's a dozen of them here, a couple several to spare. I think back to my clothes. Cheap cotton and affordable outfits. Only a small dresser to hold mine. The differences between our statuses were so blinding, always there, all the time.

"I assure you, I shall be fine."

"I only advise for you to be safe."

"Was this honestly so urgent, General?"

"…No, I suppose not. My apologies."

"You needn't. I appreciate your concern. I know how I should stand as a political figure, worry not."

"There is also something else I need to report."

"Oh? What is it?"

I don't think about it too much, but Natalia's expensive perfumed clothing around me compels me to. I know I'm a servant, and I'm fine with that. I could go back to Malkuth, and reveal myself as a survivor Hod, and be given back my title, I know. But that means I'd have to give up Luke and Natalia, the two most precious people to me. I'd be giving up the life I've gotten used to here. I'm at a standstill with my feelings. I guess I'm waiting for something to motivate me to decide. Maybe I've already settled. In any case, I'm here. I'm a servant. And right now I'm a servant who's having an affair with his best friend's fiancé. I'm hiding in her closet (her hallway of a closet is probably more appropriate), because I don't want us to get caught.

I want to marry Natalia. I do. In fact, Natalia was probably the only woman I would've married if she hadn't been claimed. I bet if we weren't in an affair and this was all okay, we would most likely have been planning the wedding already.

But it's an affair. And it's not okay. I'm risking things just to be with her, and as romantic as that sounds, it's actually not. In actuality, it's really stupid. I meant it when I said I'd take the blame if they found out I was sleeping with her. I probably would be executed if that happened. I don't want her to suffer, and when she had showed up at the port, in that harsh storm, I did make a promise.

Natalia's risking it all. Natalia's giving me a chance. I'm going to make sure she stays unharmed no matter what happens between us. I'm going to protect her.

Nobles and royals are simple people. If we were found out, they want someone to blame. So I'll let them blame me. Natalia, they're too close to. Natalia, they trust and know and love. What would they care of some simple servant? He's the culprit. I'll let them think that. He's the cad. Let's punish him. Of course the princess played no willing part. She's too pure. She's a lady. He's a lowly servant. Blue-bloods want it black and white, clear cut, effortless, and easy to swallow. So I'll gladly give them that.

Am I like this just because I feel obligated to her? Or because I just love her?

"Oracle Knights?" Natalia asks, somewhat catching my attention.

"Yes. They've been requesting strange texts from our libraries."

"For what reason?"

"They've been requests from the Grand Maestro, your Highness. He says it is for research of some sort."

"I see. What kinds of books, if I may ask?"

"Biographies on past members of the royal family."

"How strange…What would he want with that?"

"I'm not sure, your Highness. But I suggest that you be on your guard."

Luke doesn't want to be married to Natalia. I know that much. He finds her annoying and doesn't want any part of it. This much I know. This, I'm fine with. However, what I'm not sure of is of Natalia. I know she clings to a childhood marriage promise. I know she has, but I've grown uncertain as to whether this is still true. She sees Luke regularly and speaks of love and weddings to him. This all just misses him; just all goes right past his head. She tells me that this is because it would become suspicious if she stopped her normal behavior on the matter. She sees him so much, because it's expected of her. She speaks of promises and engagements because he assumes she will. That's what she told me the reason was.

I'm second-guessing her. Second-guessing us, altogether.

I've read once that there is no such thing as a happy affair. I've always thought we were the exception, the ones who proved them wrong. We were young and happy and in love. We were content and fine and…and…

Well, know what? That was a lie. We aren't content at all with this. Why are we forbidden to be together? Why can't I marry her? I feel like this is an unspoken problem between us. We never confront it, and we never talk about it. We just ignore it. And you know what else? That's probably the worst thing you can do with problems.

"Is that all, General Cecille?"

"Yes, your Highness. I shall take my leave now."

"Farewell. May we see each other again soon."

"Of course, Prin…cess…"

Suddenly I'm brought out of my mind, back to their conversation with this. General Cecille trailed off at the end of her last sentence, like her mind was focused on something else, completely forgetting that she was mid-sentence. There is a pause of silence, and I want to see what's going on, but I can't.

"General Cecille? Is anything the matter?" Natalia pipes up, as confused as I am. She doesn't respond, and there doesn't seem to be anything wrong with her. But only that she's unfocused. That she has seen something wrong. For awhile I'm worried she's spotted me somehow, and begin to panic.

"…No, your Highness. It is nothing."

But with this, I'm calm again, and we're out of the hot water. I hear more words of goodbye, and footsteps. I close my eyes so the dark won't feel like it's pushing in on me.

Where am I? How did I get here? Well, quite simply it's because I'm a servant, and to be with her is wrong. We've driven this point home more times that we should've. I want to marry her. I do. I love her and wish for more. I want more. I'm sick of hiding and social obligations and rules. I don't want to hide. I want to be her's. I want her as mine. I want the privilege of being known as her beau. I want. I love. I love her. And I'm sick of knowing that that's wrong.

I'd like to know that our love isn't a mistake.

The door opens, and she finds me as she left me, her secret in the closet. She tells me that I'll have to leave now. The dressmaker will be coming soon. We can't risk anything else.

It's not until I'm halfway out of the castle, Sophie guiding me, that I realize I've left my collar with Natalia.

"Guy, Ramdas wishes to see you."

I look up from where I'm bended over Luke's desk where he sits, helping him study again, this time in his room. The maid still has her hand on the knob of the door, face serious, but a bit worried. This worries me too.

"What for?" I ask, standing up fully. Luke looks bored, slightly interested at this. The maid shrugs.

"He didn't tell me. He's waiting in the drawing room though." She frowns, "You didn't do anything wrong, did you?"

I laugh, "Not that I know of!"

She smiles, and I see her loosen up a bit. It's true. When Ramdas wants to see you directly, without any forewarning than it rarely seems like it's something good. But I don't want her to worry about me, and try to make ease of the situation. I can see Luke frown from the corner of my eye.

"Can't you tell him to wait? Guy's helping me." He whines. The maid smiles an uncertain, awkward smile.

"I was told to take his place, Master Luke, as Guy attends to other matters. I shall help you."

Luke sighs an obvious and tired sigh at this. It's extremely rude and I feel like giving him one over the head for it; but I don't have time and decide to just lecture him later. Instead I give him a quick smile and tell him I'll be back soon, and take my leave. I flinch as the maid's shoulder barely brushes mine as she passes me, but soldier on nonetheless. I wonder if he's going to scold me about getting so close to Luke again. Had someone seen me sneak into his room, or talk to him? I have a tendency of establishing relationship with those higher a status than me. Maybe it's because I never consider myself a servant through and through.

I'm used to being reprimanded for communicating with those above me. Maybe that's why I'm so frustrated with it now.

I find him where she told me he would be, and note that General Cecille is there as well. Her arms are crossed and she's glaring at me. I wonder what I've done to offend her, but shrug it off. I'll probably find out later. Or soon, more likely. I bow to them both, back straight, like I'm supposed to. I'm not bothered by this. I'm used to it now. Nothing wrong with showing manners.

"You called, sir?"

"Yes." Ramdas responds, "You have a visitor. General Cecille wishes to speak with you about something."

I stand up fully and look at her. She has the same blue eyes of my mother, of Mary. The same dignified stance of mother, too, the stance of a Kimlascan woman. She's my cousin. I was surprised to find her when I first got to Baticul, to see how the original Cecille family was doing. I hadn't planned on that, but it just happened. I finally knew of the relatives I never met.

Mother's family was shamed after she married my father, a Malkuthian count. They've been working hard to regain respect and favor. Jozette (General Cecille) has been working through the military ranks to help in that cause; Duke Fabre has been helping her. There was more political conflict, but it doesn't really matter now. I know she doesn't know who I really am though. They think that all the Gardios family died in the war. I'm not sure if I want to reveal myself to her. There's no real point to it, anyway.

"I see." I smile, and bow my head to her, "It's my pleasure."

General Cecille looks to Ramdas, "You're dismissed. I'd like to speak with him alone, if you don't mind."

Ramdas casts me a suspicious look, wondering on the circumstances. In the end, he bows and takes his leave, motioning the White Knights in the room to follow suit. The door closes with a creak and click, and we're unaccompanied. I smile another reassuring smile.

"Is there anything I can help you with, General?" I ask, kindly watching my words and stance. I honestly had no idea why she wanted to see me, what I did to bring upon this. She gives me a strict look, and reaches into her pocket, pulling out something slowly. My heart drops when I see it there, dangling, glinting in her hand. Like it was grinning the grin of a traitor.

She had my collar.

At first, I panic. Were we found out? This was really the end for us; really no way I can explain myself out of this one. I try to think of an excuse, but they're all faulty and easy to break through. Second, I wonder if that's really the case. Maybe she just thought I lost it? And was returning it, yeah, none the wiser to anything else.

This seems faulty too, and my voice fails me. It's not like I can say anything to that anyway.

"I found this in Princess Natalia's chamber." She explains, voice hard and unforgiving, "Care to explain why this was there?"

It's not a question. It's an order. My legs weaken and I feel the dread in my stomach. I gulp and look away from the collar, the gold and symbol that has ratted me out. General Cecille's eyes never leave me, and it's that awful feeling of being caught, and no way to escape the punishment or the explanation you have to give. The game's lost, the fun's over, and now it's time to answer to reality and to suffer consequences.

"Well, Guy?" She pressures, "Can you explain to me why it was there?"

I can't. But I decide to try anyway, and compose myself, change my expression and appearance, and just wing it.

"Ah, yes. About that. The last time the Princess was here, she asked to see it. I guess she forgot to give it back and took it home." I lie, and smile what I hope looks stable. She looks sternly at me, not faltering or taking the bait. I worry it wasn't good enough, and wait for her to point out the mistakes I made.

"I'm surprised. I wouldn't expect you to allow her Highness to get so close to you." Her eyes narrow, "If I recall correctly, you're gynophobic, yes?"

She drew out her words, slow and accusing. It's obviously a rhetoric question. I have nothing to fight back with this, and stay quiet, avoiding her eyes. I try to think of other things to say, but she cuts in before I can. She won't let me defend myself.

"There's no use telling me lies. I thought it was suspicious how she was so familiar with you. She always told me it was because she was helping you get used to the idea, but this…" Cecille shook her head disapprovingly, "This, I should've known."

Like it was some sort of dangerous habit. Something forbidden or taboo, something you had to hide. Which it was. Sadly enough, it was the exact same thing. She was lecturing me, and let out a loud sigh, crossing her arms.

"I'm not entirely sure your relationship with the Princess, and I'm not even sure I want to know. But I can definitely tell it's neither good nor healthy."

Healthy. Like this could kill us or something, or that the very fact we were doing this meant we were out of our very minds. Healthy like it was an illness. A dangerous, self-abusing habit. A game that we didn't take seriously. Made us insane. Made us ill.

Still I said nothing, because to say more would just drown me in more hot water than I was already in. I just stared at the carpet, the flowery ornate design curving and forming pretty pictures while I listened.

"The princess is of a higher rank than you. Surely you know that? And I don't mean to be rude, but you are a servant. The differences are too vast. You two come from completely different worlds. There is no such thing as a good ending for the both of you."

Like I didn't know this already? She made it sound like I was irresponsible, had to be told the consequences. As if I wasn't an adult in society's eyes at all. Still a child, asking a girl already taken to be my Valentine.

"If you were to become involved with the Princess, I'm sure you would wish to marry her. And do you know what that leads to? You would become King. You have no sort of training for that, no bearing whatsoever. It would overwhelm you. One does not simply become a nobleman, but learns to from hardships and training. However, you lack the prerequisites. As a servant, how would you understand politics, manners, etiquette, and leadership? I'm sorry to say, but it's ill-suited."

I wanted to tell her that I'm a Gardios. Her cousin. That I can handle it, that I did have some of the training. I'm not sure if I'd fill in the position of King well, but if it was for her…I'd do it. It sounds incredibly stupid, but I'd do it. But I couldn't tell her this, and let her preach.

"Speaking of that, have you forgotten your master? I'm sure you remember Master Luke's engagement to her Highness. Would you betray your own master to have a chance with the Princess? As his servant, you are expected to make his life easier, to put your complete loyalty to him. But as this…this is being needlessly selfish. I hope you will do away with these whims."

Because that's what they were, right? Just whims. I'm not in love, I'm not fully aware of what I'm doing. I'm just following simple whims, pleasing fancies, like the stupid child I was. To her. Wasn't I older than her? God, it was like she was insulting me. I knew what I was doing and…and…

…Why was I doing it? Now that I think about it, what is really the point? What was it all worth? Because I love her, right?

Is love enough, though?

"I suggest you stop this altogether, even. Stop leading on the Princess. It's not possible. If there is any sort of relationship between you two, I want you to stop it. There is no future, and no chance it could work. It is forbidden. Wrong. Am I getting to you? Do you know the saying 'If you follow the rules, you won't get into trouble?' Well, I recommend you follow it now."

Leading her on. Leading her on…am I doing that? No, it's consensual. Natalia is a part of this too. We're both responsible for this. Maybe we're leading on each other?

In fact, are we even really in love? Or is this simply infatuation? We're fascinated with the danger and the rule-breaking, and not with each other. We just want to live on the wild side, want to become hooligans for awhile, with each other.

We talk like friends, and we flirt like lovers. We flirt more often than we talk now, ever since we had sex. Is this even for the love anymore?

"Do you understand? I'm telling you to do away with any selfish ideas, you have."

If this wasn't for love, than what was it for? I weigh my options, ignoring this question, this thought pattern altogether. I love Natalia. This is the benefits, if I continue this relationship. But what are the consequences? Ruined reputations, possible death, hiding, and keeping secrets.

It's so unfair. What was the point anymore? Is love really enough?

Is love really enough to risk it?

"I'm not going to tell. To do so would ruin the Princess entirely. I'll let you off with a warning, but if I get any inkling whatsoever that you're still involved with her, I'll have to step in and take care of it myself." She threatened me, her arms crossed and face stern from where I can see from the above of my eyes. I don't say anything, don't show any emotion to prove her true. I study the carpet still, avoiding her face. She pauses for a moment, then moves forward, my nerves suddenly alert at the closeness.

She holds her hand out, the collar resting in her palm, the gold and green a stark contrast on her white glove.

"Here." She orders me to take it, and with a shaking hand I do. She knows of my phobia, and knows I was scared to take it back. It's a warning in and of itself too. No mercy. Not if I was hurting her Highness.

"Do you understand what I tell of you?" She asks, voice commanding. I nod slowly, wishing she'd just step back a few inches so my heart would stop pounding in fear. I don't do it myself because it would be rude and weak.

"…Yes, ma'am."

"Well, then. If you excuse me."

I bow on instinct, like a good servant, and in moments, the sound of the door closing is made. I'm left with my thoughts and the silence, and finally raise my head. As I put on my collar again, I'm still asking the same question, worried about the obvious answer.

Was it enough to love someone to risk it all?

I never told Natalia about the visit from General Cecille. I did tell Sophie though. And all she had done was shake her head, and look at me with those pity-filled eyes.

"I'm not sure what to tell you, Guy. I mean, you guys are so happy together, it'd just be tragic if you broke it off."

"What if she finds us out again?"

"You'll have to be more careful then."

I wanted to ask her if love was enough. In the end, I never did. To this day, I wonder why. But, then again, to this day, it's too late.

I mull this over in my mind as I sit in the royal garden, on the pretty black bench, Natalia leaning against me, looking up at the stars. Her head is right on a bruise I got that day from helping move some heavy furniture, but I don't ask her to move. The bruise throbs on my shoulder, but I don't want her to move at all.

"Do you suppose you can wish on more than one falling star?" She asked me simply. I looked up with her, those glittering stars across the dark sky in my gaze.

"You mean, do you get one wish per falling star you see?" I clarify. She nods, irritating the bruise some more.

"Yes."

"I would think so."

"Don't you think it's a tad bit greedy though?"

I shrug, irritating the bruise myself. "Well, technically there aren't any concrete rules. So I say, go for it."

I can see her smile from the corner of my eye. It makes me smile too.

These sort of comfy moments, where we talk about simple, sweet things are what I cherish the most. Is what I love the most. The time of life where you don't have to worry about anything, just let it all go, and soak in life and living and existing. It feels nice, really nice.

But is it worth it enough to hazard everything else?

I try to let this thought go, but I can't, and I can't just drift from my problems and worries. Now they concern her, this small pretty girl on my shoulder, hurting me unknowingly; physically and emotionally.

"Hey, sweetheart?"

"It's Natalia."

"Right, right." I nod, letting this roll of my shoulder, too focused on my question. "Um…can I ask something?"

"Of course." She mutters, grabbing my hand, rubbing her thumb over the backside of my hand. It's a soothing motion, rhythmic and considerate. It almost makes me back down from what I'm going to ask, but I don't. I need to know. I need to know there's no reason for us to split, no other reason for us to end it all, other than it's forbidden.

"Do you…do you still love Luke?"

She pauses, and settles her head into my arm, her thumb still making circles on my skin. The bruise aches.

"Why do you ask that?"

"Just wondering. You know, ever since he found out."

I wanted to think love was enough. I'd love to, really honestly would. I want to be a romantic and think we were meant to be, and that no matter what would happen, we were destined for each other. That we'd overcome every adversary and triumph over any challenge, and in the end have this fabulous wedding and live happily ever after. I'd love to think life is like that, but it isn't. Take away all the pretty glamour, and in the end all we are, are cheaters and selfish perverts. All we wanted was thrills and flirting and fast relationships. We wanted the danger. She wants the temporariness of it.

Reality says this will end one day, and sadly enough it's true. Reality says there's no such thing as self-sacrificing love, but instead expecting something to come out of it, something for you. We're all selfish people, and in the end, Natalia and I aren't perfect. I honestly don't want to be caught, honestly can't fully believe in her ideal of a perfect romance, of everything just working out on their own. I can't have her figure out about me fully, can't tell her the past. Natalia's problem?

Well, my sweetie, she just couldn't let go of stupid promises that happened God knows how long ago. She's clingy and desperate. Of course, I never found this out until later. Until then, she lied to me.

"Worry not." She laughed, and kissed my arm, right on the bruise. "Rest easy. You are the only one I love."

I looked ahead, trying to dissect her words, trying to see if she slipped up. But I couldn't find anything wrong with them, and just smiled and kissed the top of her head. I took her words as truth, putting my full trust in her.

It was the first time she lied to me.

In some stories there are arranged marriages. They always tell about how cruel the fiancé is, and how the bride is unhappy. She's forced to marry without love, without a say in the matter, and it's all very tragic. Poor girl! Oh if only her parents would listen to her, if only life was different!

Then they tell of some handsome, dashing hero coming along and sweeping her off her feet, and finally she finds love. They're so perfect for each other, and they're so happy, and all they have to deal with is that pesky, evil, and cruel fiancé. They tell of stories where they keep their love a secret, and then fight for it, and then thwart the cruel fiancé, and get their happy ending. They tell us stories like this. Yet, what they don't tell you (what Natalia hadn't told me back then) was something even more tragic.

They never say 'What if she loved the fiancé too?'

With the cruel fiancé, who might not be that bad. That, hey! What if it was consensual? A shared love. What if she loved his red hair? What if she loved who he had been, who he represented? What happens to the tragic girl and her dashing hero then? What if he still sweeps her off her feet, and what if they don't want to thwart the not-so-bad-just-in-the-way fiancé? What then?

Fairy tales don't tell you about this. They wrap us up in clichés and predictable solutions, putting the vision of our worlds through a sort of film covering. Everything looks black and white and then it's all easier to solve and figure out. Fairy tales help us get rid of all that annoying gray and makes our lives easier.

However I had been facing the gray and it refused to be black or white. Fairy tales don't give you solutions for this. They avoid it entirely and that had put me in quite a spot.

I had been filling the role of the dashing hero, and I hadn't been sure what to do, already having done my part in the play. The writer had left me there, left the story unfinished, and I was left to my own devices. Left to write my own lines. I had been on my own. The one woman I could've looked to for help had already helped. I had been left with the unfaithful fickle princess and she still wanted the fiancé. No wonder it has ended.

This all rolls around in my mind as I plan how to catch the bird. The past brought back ugly memories, horrid reminders; but maybe that's good. I mean, if I remembered the better times, I'd just want her back.

But it had been too much. Way too much to deal with, too much to handle. Love hadn't been enough. Not for her, or me.

Not for us.

It's over, and yet still, it hurts. Maybe if she were still here Sophie could help sort out these feelings. But she's far away now, and all I'm left with is her red scarf.

…I'll think I'll use bread. Use it as a trail to trick him into the birdcage. Yeah. That should work. I'm trying to keep myself busy so I won't remember. So I don't have to remember love that never worked out, or Sophie, or anything. All I want to think about is a bird I'm out to save. All I want to think about it tomorrow.

All I want to remember is her.

I want to leave the past alone. Just for once, I'd like to move on.

Well that's the end of the chapter! Thank you for reading!

Mmm…yes. I realize that the mood changed a whole lot from the beginning to the end. First he sounded all laid-back, and then Guy's speech patterns got all serious on us. I'm not sure how to explain this other than…bad writing. Yeah, that's about it. Sorry, so sorry. Dx

Also, sorry it took so long. I'm trying to get this out as soon as I can, but it's my senior year now, so…yeah. But in the end, that in and of itself is an excuse and I'm sorry. So, so sorry. D:

I'm pretty sure half of you have already given up on this fic, but I plan on finishing it regardless. I'd like to finish a story, at least once. It'd be nice.

…In any case, gloominess aside! Thank you for reading, once more! I'm uber grateful that people even read this filth. So thank you! Thank you! : ]

Ciao!

-Apple Fairy