Ruby all but forces him to go to the market the following morning, his next match being in the afternoon and leaving him free time, with the excuse of buying fabric for a new tunic – the one Victor will sew to be worn at the opening ceremony of the King's tournament. (He's lost as to how someone who calls himself a simple man of science knows anything about sewing, but knows better than to ask.) Killian knows it's more about her wanting to spend time between the stalls than it really is about his clothes, but he humours her anyway.
They quickly agree on three different shades of fabric – light brown for the breech, white for the shirt and a deep red for the waistcoat – before Ruby drags him all around the market place, from one stand to another, marvelling at ripe fruits and colourful scarfs, delicate glass sculptures and wood trinkets. He laughs at her antics and they both do when a merchant tries to talk him into buying a "beautiful dress for his beautiful sister" – it's all in the fair eyes and dark hair, how they whisper to each other without acting like a couple. Still, Killian only smiles sweetly at the man, and tells him they are not interested, before moving to then next shop.
"Why now, brother, am I not worthy of a new dress?"
His laugh is low and rich as he grabs her arm to pull her further away from the temptation of pretty silky gowns. "You'll be at the liberty of buying it yourself once the tournament is won."
If Ruby's smile falters a bit at that, he barely notices it for a flash of blond eyes catches his eyes – his breath goes raspy and his heart beats faster, his body reacting to her even before he actually recognizes her. His eyes really fall on her then, and so do Ruby's as she makes a small sound between a sigh and a groan – he can almost feel her rolling her eyes.
"And here goes our quality family time," she complains, and Killian can only laugh for something tell him she will go along with that siblings business for quite some time. Still, he offers Ruby his most adorable pout, and greets her with a grin when she shoos him away, closer to the princess. "Go, Don Juan. Just go."
He graces her with an eye roll before he makes his way through the crowd to where Emma is standing with her escorts, as they're admiring trinkets a jeweller is selling. He arrives with a nod to Mulan for her not to worry, and looks over Emma's shoulder and she and Aurora are going through several necklaces.
"You should pick the amber one," he whispers in her ear, effectively startling her.
She turns around quickly, eyes wide and hands tightened into fists, ready to fight back, but immediately softens when her eyes fall on him. She huffs at him, even with a smile creeping on her lips – he grins back.
"You're an idiot."
"Maybe. But I'm also right, you should buy the amber one."
Aurora holds the necklace against Emma's throat, the gem resting between her collarbones – it is only a polished gem on a pendant, but it is breath-taking in its simplicity. And, mostly, it brings out the golden in her hazel eyes, making them sparkle in the soft morning light.
"Oh Emma, it is quite lovely," Aurora says, and Killian beams with happiness at the little princess' approval – she seems, after all, like a woman of tastes.
Emma seems to hesitate, her eyes going from Killian to Aurora several times, before she caves in with a sigh she wants exasperated but that doesn't fool anymore. "All right, all right," she says as she hands the necklace to the merchant for him to put it in a velvet box. Her eyes scan the stall as she reaches in her purse for the golden crowns – something catches her attention then, and she grabs it quickly. So fast, actually, that Killian doesn't have time to look at it properly. "That too, please."
"Of course, Your Highness."
The title seems weird to Killian's ears, for he is not used to people actually using it – everybody around Emma seems to be calling her by her own name, and he took an habit of using his fair share of pet names too. Still, she remains the princess in the eyes of the common folk, something he tends to forget all too easily. After all, she was Her Highness to him only months ago, and never would he have thought he'd ever talked to her – yet, here he is.
She slips her new jewellery box in the bad Aurora wears at her hip, then turns to him. She takes his hand and unfolds the fingers, pressing something to his open palm. "That's for you."
His eyes fall on quite the heavy ring, obviously crafted for a man – silvery, with a big red gem and intricate flower pattern that look a lot like the ones on her family crest. But it is the patterns on the side of the ring that particularly catch his eye, something that looks a lot like a hook, or maybe the head of a swan, within a heart. He smirks – how appropriate.
"Is that a token of affection, m'lady?"
He is certain she will roll her eyes again but instead she looks around her quickly, concern painted on her face. Disappointment feels heavy on his chest when he realises she's making sure no one heard him, as if afraid someone would find out about the evolution of their relationship.
Right.
He should have seen it coming.
"No, it's a gift," she says finally, and she notices the sudden change of mood, brows creasing into a small frown.
Killian only offers her a tight smile and bows slightly. "My thanks. I shall leave you to your shopping then."
As he makes his way back to Ruby, he distinctly hears Aurora fake-whispering, "It's embarrassing how bad you are at courting", but it doesn't lift his spirits. Still, he slips the ring on, the metal heavy on his finger.
.
Aurora comes to him before his match, a delicate silky scarf in her hands.
"My lady wants you to have this, as a token of her affections."
It is not quite a public acknowledgment of whatever is happening between them, but Killian is not a greedy man – he'll get what he can get.
.
Nobody is that surprised, two days later, when the final match brings Killian and Robin together – actually, everybody had called it from the very first day of the tournament, and rumours got bigger over the days with the obvious friendship the two men form now. The crowd is hoping for a show, and a show they will get for both of them want to enjoy themselves more than anything. Even minutes before the joust begins, both on top of their horse and on opposite sides of the ground, they decide to have a laugh about the whole thing.
"Ready to lose, old man?" Killian says loud enough, earning some laughs from the audience.
"Skills before good looks, lad!"
"Thankfully I have both."
It makes quite the show, people laughing and applauding their antics, and they keep going until the joust actually begins. And even then, forcing his horse into a fast gallop, Killian can't stop grinning because this is amusing. Gone is the time when he was only doing this to full their starving bellies, for mere survival – he's doing it for the sake of it now, for the thrill of the moment and the satisfaction of beating some lord's ego. Now especially feels like having a good time with a friend more than anything, and it is something he could get used to.
Still all playfulness is lost on them with the strength they put into their lances, their quips not the only way they find to entertain the audience. Wood chips fly around them with each round, bruises already forming behind his armour from each repeated hit to his chest – it leaves him breathless but laughing, each round a tie, none of them managing to score the single point that would make all the difference.
Point that arrives minutes later. Killian isn't sure if it's out of luck or out of something else entirely, but Robin's lance slides against his shoulder, unbroken, while his crashes against his friend's chest in a loud crack.
The audience remains silent for two long seconds before breaking into cheerful yells and applause – the sound of fists against the wood of the fence echoing his loud heartbeat. His friends, as always, come to him and chant his name, and even Robin claps his shoulder with a grin.
When he turns his head, Killian finds both princesses on their feet, clapping too.
.
"Sixty-eight, sixty-nine… And seventy. Thank you, gentlemen."
The golden coins fall, one after the other, into the purse Graham holds. He can't even wipe the smirk off his face, especially with the grimaces Robin's Merry Men make as they hand him the money – the purse feels heavy and Graham feels rich, all is well.
"Now if you ever find yourself in a gambling mood again," Jefferson chimes in above his friend shoulder with his best Cheshire cat's grin, "we'll be at the King's tournament."
.
Killian goes back to his tent after barely an hour spent at the banquet – even without Emma, free food is free food and who would he be to give it the cold shoulder – and is not all that surprised not to see his friends. He learnt about the bet from a hysterical Ruby, and apparently celebrating was in order and he wasn't invited. He wonders if he'll have to look for them in every tavern in town, and then decides to let them be. It is, after all, their problem if they pass out in a dark alley from too much drinking.
He doesn't see his friends but a frame he knows well, sitting in silence by the fire. Mulan doesn't even look up at him as he walks pass her, frowning, and he has a moment of hesitation before entering the tent.
And here she stands, draped in a long white cape that falls to her feet, hair tumbling down her shoulders turned golden by the candlelight. Killian stops in his tracks and stares, barely even blinking as if afraid she'll disappear in a heartbeat if he takes his eyes away from her. Long seconds pass and she remains, not a fiddle of his imagination after all, so he moves closer until standing only a few feet away from her.
"You're a liar. A good one, I'll give you that, but still a liar," she says out of the blue, her soft voice not matching the harshness of her accusation. And then she adds, for emphasis, "Killian."
He has the most peculiar reaction then, of his first thought is about how good his name sounds on her lips and how he wants to hear it again. But his brain catches up with the emergency of the situation soon enough, heart beating faster and cheeks growing red with embarrassment and ever-growing panic.
He's officially a dead man.
"I – I can explain. I swear. I – Emma – Your Highness – I…" He is a rightful mess, not managing to come up with a single coherent sentence, let alone to speak up, only able to think about the pillory waiting for him on the market place, about the axe that will probably take off his head – he's too young to die.
"You're a liar," she says again, stepping closer to him like a cat to a mouse, feral yet beautiful. "You lied about your name and your birth, you forged fake papers and tricked everyone into believing your herald's beautiful little stories." Yet another step, so close now. "But, worst of all, you stole from a royal member."
His eyes widen – this is such nonsense, he never stole, even if one could consider the way he earned money dubious at best. But he never truly stole, let alone stole from the royal family of all people. He knows his place, after all. "What are you talking about?" he manages to ask, voice nothing but a weak, frightened, whisper.
She keeps coming closer until only a few inches are left between them and he has to look down to find her eyes – if his are easily readable as scared, hers are a mystery, dark and clouded. She stares at him, head tilted to the side, for what seems like hours, before speaking again. "My heart. You stole it."
He didn't think his heart could beat stronger. How wrong he was, the damn thing hurting against his ribcage with every frantic beat, threatening to burst away, or maybe stop, at any moment now. He doesn't trust himself to reply to that, to even move a single muscle. So he just stares at her, heart and mind going wild, leaving him painfully dizzy.
"Do you know why my parent allow me to travel across the kingdom with every new tournament?" she goes on, not caring about his lack of reaction. "They're all about True Love, you know, so they would never force their only daughter into an arranged marriage. But still, I need to be wed. So they let me into those large gatherings of knights and lords, hoping I will finally meet the one. I bet they didn't expect that turn of events."
And then, almost out of nowhere, a soft delicate smile curls her lips, lightening up her face. Her hands reach for the clasps of the cape, unfastening them.
"You stole my heart, Killian, but I don't want it back."
The cape slides down her shoulders in a soft rustle, leaving her naked in front of him.