A/N: Sorry folks for the very late update! 2020 is a very chaotic year and honestly this just got buried beneath the train wreck that has been the last few months (as well as taking on NaNoVVriMo & getting very distracted with a new musical) but I am committed to finishing this story! This chapter is fairly short, but sweet. Enjoy!

ooOoo

Chapter 10: Briar Rose Cottage

In the gentle moonlight, the cottage before them took on an almost ethereal quality.

It was squat and sturdily built, stone walls and wooden timbers still standing after what looked like years of neglect, with only the thatched roof bearing the worst of the damages. One side of the cottage had been built against and into a huge tree, and a soft gurgle marked the presence of a small water wheel that had fallen into disrepair long ago.

Haru gave a low whistle. "How did you find a place like this?"

Baron didn't answer, but only prompted her onwards. "We can't set a fire going without the smoke attracting attention, but it's not too cold tonight so I think we'll survive on just blankets."

"You're squatting, aren't you?" Haru translated. "The real owners are away and you don't want anyone to know we're here."

Baron made a face that she couldn't quite read, and fished a key out from between the roots of a tree stump. "Close enough," he said, and he pushed the door open.

As she entered, Haru adjusted her initial assessment. While the exterior had little to indicate it had even been looked at in the last decade, the interior wore the years much more kindly. The kitchen surfaces were dusty, but otherwise clean, crockery had been carefully stacked in their respective cupboards, and the furniture had been lovingly carved once upon a time.

"You can take the bedroom on the next floor up," Baron said. "There'll be fresh blankets in the wardrobe, and a candle and matches in the bedside table drawer. If you need to wash, there's a well round the back that should still be fine."

Haru looked up from where she had been examining the finely-carved furniture. "You really know your way around this place, don't you?"

Muta snorted. "What happened to the real owners, that's what I wanna know. Probably murdered them in their sleep or something."

"If you don't like it, you're welcome to sleep outside," Baron told the cat. "No, really. Please do. Then perhaps I'd get some peace."

Haru left the bickering duo and followed the stairs to the lone room on the floor above. Inside was a single bed pushed up against the window overlooking the cottage's glade, all gently lit by the moon's soft watch. She located the sheets in the wardrobe Baron had mentioned, and pulled them out to start setting the bed when something else – small and white and soft – fell out with the blankets.

It was a handkerchief. Which wouldn't have been notable by itself, except for the fact that in the corner, beautifully monogrammed once upon a time, were the letters EvG.

ooOoo

Louise stepped out into the woodland clearing, where now there was only a smothered fire and flattened earth. Auberon stormed across the makeshift campsite, kicking up ash as he passed the dead fire.

"They're gone!"

Louise bit back a smile. "Unaccustomed to failure, are we?"

"This isn't a failure!" Auberon snarled. "You know where she is, don't you?"

"At this moment in time, they could be absolutely anywhere."

Natori, who had been watching the exchange silently until now, suddenly spoke up. "True. But perhaps you know where they're heading to."

Auberon smirked. "Indeed. Mother, where is the Princess going?" The stone in his hand glowed brighter than ever, reflecting the same azure colour of his eyes in the forest's twilight. "Mother, where is she trying to get to?"

"I…" The words 'I don't know' caught in her throat as a single strand of memory, unbidden, rose to mind. Realising she knew exactly where Haru was going, the name magic would not allow anything other than the truth.

"I'm waiting."

"The festival. They're going to see the lantern festival."

ooOoo

Pale moonlight filtered through the window just enough to illuminate the form resting in an aged sofa. Asleep, Haru thought, until Baron's head shifted and those green eyes turned to her.

"You should be sleeping," he said.

Haru approached the sofa and curled her fingers around its padded armrest. The cushions were thin and threadbare, their colours faded to only a fraction of their former glory. She could see where someone had tried to patch the corners where the fabric was falling apart.

"I've slept in the same room my whole life," she answered. "I couldn't relax. And how about you? Shouldn't you be sleeping too?"

He smiled a tired smile. "Ah, don't you know? The wicked never sleep."

Haru eased herself down onto the other side of the sofa, a good foot between the two of them. "You're not wicked," she protested.

"I have a price on my head that would imply otherwise."

"So you stole a few things. No biggie."

Baron huffed in a way that hid a laugh, and for a moment Haru thought he was going to say something heartfelt. Then he smiled and brushed off the comment with, "A crown is no biggie?"

"I mean, it's just a fancy hat. A thing."

"I don't think the King and Queen would agree with that."

"Things can be replaced."

Baron was silent for a long while, silent with the kind of stillness that told Haru that maybe she had hit closer to home than she had been aiming for. When it became clear that he had no intention of carrying on the conversation, she turned her gaze instead to the carefully kept house, hidden away inside a rundown exterior.

"Why did you bring us here?" she asked.

"You wanted to move on, remember? This was simply the safest place I could think of." Baron nodded to the window where the darkened forest lay beyond. "We're not too far from the capital now either; in fact, there's a lake a stone's throw in that direction that borders it."

"Why didn't we press on then?"

"It's late. Too late for any respectable persons to be up and about in the city. No, we're safer to stay here until morning."

Haru was silent. She felt the handkerchief in her pocket, and shifted on the couch so she was a hair's breadth closer to Baron. "You knew about this place, and yet the original plan was still to camp out in the woods. In the dark. Out in the open. Cold. You really didn't want to tell us about this cottage, did you?"

"Well, the fewer people who know about a thief's secret retreat, the better–"

"But it's more than that," Haru said, cutting across Baron's nonchalant tone. "Isn't it?"

Baron met her piercing gaze, and then dropped away. "Yes."

Haru retrieved the handkerchief and set it down on the table before them. Baron's eyes widened, and she didn't miss the way he started to reach out for it before remembering himself.

"Where…?"

"Back of the wardrobe, behind the bedding," she answered softly. She brushed a finger against the embroidered lettering, feeling the faded thread beneath her touch. "Now," she said, "I'm no detective, but "vG" can't be too common a surname initials. Would it stand for von Gikken… Gikkie…"

"Gikkingen," Baron supplied with a smile. "Don't worry; I won't be quizzing you on it later." The smile died away and Haru leant back as he swept up the handkerchief. "But yes. The entirety of it would stand for Edmund von Gikkingen. My father." A small sigh flickered past his lips. "I thought we'd lost the last of these years ago."

There was a silence in which Haru allowed Baron a moment to himself, and then she carefully edged a few inches closer to him. "This is your home, isn't it?"

"Was," he corrected. He stared down at the handkerchief he now passed between his hands. "We lived here after my mother left, but when my father died, my brother wanted to move on. I keep the place tidy for brief rests, but I can't settle. Not when my face can be found on every wanted board in the country."

"Do you want that?" she asked. "To settle?"

For a moment, Baron's attention was ingrained solely on the carefully-embroidered handkerchief, and Haru thought she might get a heartfelt answer. Then he met her gaze with a roguish smile. "What, settle down? Pay taxes and stay in one place and run a house, like some sort of ordinary person? Never. What kind of thief do you take me for?"

"A lonely one."

She hadn't really meant to answer. She suspected she was supposed to smile back and laugh and pretend to buy the lie, but somewhere from brain to lips that memo had been lost. All she could do now, her chin rested tiredly on her hands, elbows leaning against her knees, was watch as the assured confidence faded from Baron's shoulders.

"You weren't meant to answer that," he said softly.

"Then you shouldn't have asked it," she replied, equally soft. She sighed and, after a heartbeat's hesitation, leant closer still to him. "You forget: I've lived in the same tower my whole life only knowing two people. I recognise loneliness when I see it."

"Three people, now," Baron amended.

Haru hummed deliberately. "Now, is that counting Hiromi or Tsuge? I'm not sure which one I'd be more scared of upsetting by omitting."

Baron gave a short laugh, and Haru was relieved to see his good humour had returned. "That's not what I meant, and you know it."

"Well, I can hardly count the guards, can I? Not after you knocked out their captain."

"Try again."

"The thugs in the Sitting Duck?"

"Now you're just having me on."

Haru laughed, and perhaps it was the way the sleepiness curbed her nerves, or how the laughter broke down the walls, but she found herself leaning against him without ever making a conscious decision to do so.

She felt Baron start a little at the contact, but he didn't move away.

"You should really head back up to bed," he said eventually. "You've got a big day ahead of you tomorrow."

"And?"

"You need your sleep."

Haru curled her legs up on the sofa, and found herself biting back a telltale yawn. "I told you, I couldn't sleep." The yawn triumphed and she could feel the smile forming on Baron's face.

"You sound sleepy to me."

"Then your ears are liars."

"I can carry you back upstairs, if it's the walk that's daunting you–"

"No."

The hand that had been trying to gently prompt her back to her feet faltered. "What?"

She hesitated, surprised at her own admission, but then she softly curled her fingers around Baron's sleeve. "I don't want to be left alone," she whispered. "Please."

For a moment, her companion stilled, and the foolishness of her plea hit home. But for all her foolishness, that niggling doubt still seeded itself in her mind. She needed to know he was here, that he wasn't going anywhere. That her sole companion and guide was not about to abandon her in this wild wide world. For a moment, her heart ached.

Then her companion smiled.

"Then I won't go."