Simon sat on a balcony overlooking the gardens of the palace. It was four days since he'd arrived and still no word from Viviane. He wasn't sure why this mattered-after all, she had turned her back on him to marry his murderous step-father. He wasn't going to have anything more to do with her. But still, he would have expected her to write, at least…
"Simon."
Simon turned. Michael stood in the doorway. "Yes, Michael?"
"Viviane," his friend said shortly. "It appears that your step-father plans to execute her. He apparently discovered a letter she had written you and not yet mailed. Its contents gave no doubt as to where her loyalties lay, and he had her arrested."
Simon shook his head. "It has nothing to do with me anymore," he said. "She made the decision to become Frederick's fiancée. Her loyalties lie with him. The letter must have been to throw me off."
Michael sighed. "Simon," he said, irritation creeping into his voice, "you love this women. Deny it all you want, but it's plain that you still love Viviane. And I'd say that the letter makes it pretty clear she still loves you. After all, she would have told Frederick if it was merely to throw you off, would she not?"
"Or," Simon said, squelching the growing hope within his chest, "this could be yet another ruse, one meant to bring me out into the open so that Frederick can end the threat to his rule by killing me."
"Do you really believe that she would do that?" Michael asked softly. "Really, Simon?"
Sighing, Simon shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know anymore," he said tiredly. "Once I would have said yes without hesitation. Then, after we became lovers and she helped me to escape, I would have said no at once. But now…now I do not know what I can be sure of."
"I'll help you," Michael said. "If you go to rescue her, I'll come along. I'll bring an army. Frederick is in the wrong here, and I have no qualms about attacking him."
Simon was silent.
Michael sighed again. "Just think over what I've said," he told his friend, turning back. "Let me know what you decide."
Simon gave a half-hearted nod, and Michael left.
With his friend gone, Simon was able to give in to the conflicting emotions raging through him. Closing his eyes, he put his head in his arms and bit his lip. Could what Michael had assumed be true? That Viviane still loved him? But if that was indeed the case, why would she have agreed to marry Frederick? But even as he wondered these things, the biggest question rose to his mind: was he willing to stake Viviane's life on the chance that she had betrayed him?
Viviane sat in her cell, arms wrapped around her slim frame, head lowered. She had cried all that she would cry the first few days she had been there in the dungeon, and she was determined to cry no more. Nothing that could be perceived as a weakness could escape her. Nothing at all.
Sighing tiredly, she lay back on the thin pallet that amounted to her bed. She hadn't slept since they brought her there, and it showed. She had been too busy thinking of Simon, wondering if he had heard, if he would have the sense to stay away and let her die. And, at the same time, hoping he would come.
Simon sat out on the balcony for hours, hardly knowing what he was doing. All he could think of was that Viviane's life was at stake. But he wasn't even sure of that.
At last he got up and made his way down to Michael's study. Knocking on the heavy oak door, he called "Michael?"
"Hmm? Simon? Is that you? Come in!" Michael called out.
Simon did so, creaking open the door. "I'm going back," he said shortly. "For her."
"Good man!" Michael exclaimed. "I knew you'd make the right decision, given time."
Simon laughed rather harshly. "I'm still not sure if it is," he said bitterly. "I can only hope."
"I'm sure it is," Michael reassured him. "Wait and see."