A week passed as Helia and Flora continued on with their secret relationship. They hadn't spent an evening together since the night of Helia's birthday, Flora was too nervous to ask for another night and Helia was usually so tired after taking over Duncan's duties on top of his own duties. His father had been pleased, well Helia thought he was as there had been no complaints, but Helia had not been pleased that his new duties had kept him from spending the time that he wanted with Flora.

They didn't talk about what happened the day that Duncan left. Flora refused to talk about it and any indication that Helia was going to breach the subject, Flora had shut him down, insisting that they talk about something else. But Helia could sense that every time she didn't talk about it, her eyes lost a bit of life in them, and she momentarily became distant and reserved. Helia didn't like it but he wouldn't pressure Flora. Duncan was gone and so was the direct threat of his presence.

Now, as the snow fell outside, covering Hademort in a thicker blanket of white, Helia sat in the kitchen, another book in his hands as he read to Flora. Needing to mend some of Krystal's winter gowns, Flora did not have the time for a lesson that night. Not that she minded, she loved listening to Helia's voice as she worked. Tonight's story was about two children, a witch, and a house made of sweets.

"I would hate to be in that house on a hot, summer day." Flora crinkled her nose, "It would be so sticky."

"I don't think that little children care about that," Helia remarked as he looked up from the book and up towards Flora. Her body was illuminated by the roaring fire as she had a wool dress draped across her lap. "It's a house made of sweets."

"But what about-"

"Flora, it's just a story for children," Helia laughed, "I think that we can excuse the plot holes and fallacies of the story."

"Well, when these children's stories have real things like magic and true love, how could I not question an entire house made of sticky sugar?"

Helia brought the book up to his nose, but his eyes were still trained on Flora, "Do you want me to continue with the story or not?"

"Sorry." Flora blushed as she returned her attention back to her sewing. "Please continue. I won't interrupt again. Well, only when necessary."

Helia looked back down at the book, "Good girl."

Flora froze, the needle in her stilling in the fabric and her eyes trained blankly on her laps. The cold smell and disgusting taste of Duncan came flooding back to her memory with just those words. She hated when Duncan called her that. She knew that Helia didn't mean it when he said it, he didn't even know that Duncan had told her to be a "good girl" multiple times, threatening her if she wasn't. But hearing Helia call her that still sent a chill up her spine.

"Helia," Flora interrupted him and Helia let out an annoyed sigh as he brought the book down to his lap but his expression changed when he saw the look on Flora's face, "please don't call me that."

"Call you what?" Helia asked as he closed the book, his full attention on Flora.

"I...I...I can't say it." Flora stammered as she closed her eyes, trying to get the general's face out of her head, "But he calls me that."

Helia wracked his brain for what he had said. Who was the 'he' that Flora was talking about? However, when Flora brought her eyes down to her feet and her shoulders hunched over, Helia's jaw clenched, and his hand wrapped tightly around the book. Helia knew now exactly who Flora was referring to.

Him.

"What he calls you?" Helia narrowed his blue eyes, "What does he call you?"

Flora shook her head, "Forget it. Can you please just continue on with the story?"

"No," Helia set the book down on the floor, "you said no more secrets between the two of us. What has he said to you?"

Flora took a deep breath and lifted her head, staring into the blazing fire, unable to meet Helia's attentive gaze.

"Please don't get mad," Flora whispered.

"Oh, I probably will." Helia scoffed as he folded his arms over his chest. His hands were clenched, and he was already anticipating the worst.

"Helia..."

"I am just being honest, and I will try to stay calm. I swear though, if he has said something to hurt you...he already..." Helia took a calming breath that didn't really help too much, "I don't think that I will become very pleasant to be around."

Flora nodded as Helia placed a hand on Flora's knee, the wool gown across her lap scratchy against his fingers. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, still unable to look at Helia.

"In the hallways, at the ball, and when he left for the front, he tells me to be a good girl. Before he..." Flora inhaled, "before he kissed me, he told me that I was beautiful but not too beautiful to be punished if I wasn't good. He told me to stay "beautiful" for him. I might be a dumb handmaiden from Linphea, but I know what he was talking about." Flora let out a soft laugh, "Especially now since we... But," Flora's voice became serious once again, "I think he knows, Helia. He knows about how you read to me every night. He told me so at the ball. When you called me a...good girl, I was brought to his hands on me, his lips on mine, the smell of him, and..."

Helia was silent as he stared forward. Flora might scold him but now Helia was sending up a million prayers to the spirits that Duncan met a terrible fate out at battle. However, the spirits had already given him Flora; Helia thought that he best not press his luck. Still, he was fuming. He wanted to scream, he wanted to find Duncan and wring his neck. But he told Flora that he wouldn't get mad. So he took deep breath and did his best to stay calm.

"I see," Helia replied, "then I shall not call you that again."

Flora turned her gaze to Helia, relieved that he hadn't yelled.

"And you aren't mad?"

"Oh, it's taking everything in me not to grab my horse and ride to the front lines of Koria and wring his fucking neck and cut out his tongue for speaking you in that way. Maybe cut his hands off for good measure so he can never lay a fucking hand on you ever again." Helia crossed his arms as he glared forward into the fire.

"Language."

"I mean it," Helia stood up from his chair and began pacing the length of the kitchen, "I want to kill him. If he were here-"

"But he's not here, Helia."

Flora slowly rose to her feet and placed a hand on Helia's arm, hoping to calm him down a bit.

"How dare he talk to you like that! You are mine and-"

"But I'm not, Helia. Not really." Flora sighed.

"Flora," Helia grabbed Flora's hands in his, "you are mine and that ass is not going to talk to you that way. He threatened you, Flora. He might be the general, but I am still the prince of this forsaken frozen wasteland for a country, and I will have his head if he ever talks to you that way again."

"Helia, it's fine. I suppose I will have to get used to it if I am to be married-"

"You aren't marrying him, Flora. Especially now that I know how he speaks to you. There is no way."

"I am a poor woman with nothing who is engaged to a general. I don't think that I am in any position to say no. Your father demands it, and the court knows."

"I'll talk to my father tomorrow morning. You aren't-"

"Helia..."

"I'm serious, Flora. We might not be able to share our lives together the way that we want but I would move the stars in the sky to make sure that you never share a moment of...wedded bliss...with him. You're not marrying him."

Flora smiled as she removed her hands from Helia and wrapped them around his waist and set her head on his chest. Her wavy hair that was piled on top of her head tickled his nose as he breathed in. She could hear his heartbeat through his chest and as it began to slow down, Flora knew that he was beginning to return to a state of calm which made her feel much better. And when she felt his hands begin to rub her back, Flora relaxed into his hold.

The grandfather clock in the corner of the kitchen chimed and Flora sighed into Helia's chest.

"Bedtime." Flora softly announced.

Helia groaned, bedtime was his least favorite part of the night. It was the time when he would have to say goodbye to Flora and they both would return to being prince and handmaiden. Helia just liked being himself and Flora. Flora was much more than her low station and he wanted to spend time with her, handmaiden or not.

"Come to bed with me tonight," Helia asked, though it came out as more of a sentence as he placed a kiss on the top of her head. His head was still reeling with the new information that Flora had disclosed to him about the general. He needed Flora with him tonight.

"Helia, you know that I can't." Flora raised her head to look up at Helia. "I could get caught and-"

"I will make sure to wake you before the rest of the palace. I just want to hold you in my arms as I fall asleep. Nothing more, well, unless you want to. Please, Flora."

Flora shook her head, "Not tonight, it is already too late, and I have yet to finish the mending on the gown that Her Highness has prepared to wear tomorrow."

"Tomorrow then?"

"Helia, I shouldn't-"

"Please?"

Flora inhaled and nodded her head, "I shall try. With you training the troops, my day has been filled with more tasks with the princess. She..." Flora closed her eyes, "the princess has begun the preparations for her wedding gown and I along with the royal seamstress have been tasked-"

"I don't want to hear about the wedding preparations. No more talks about marriage and subjects that will just make the both of us upset. Saladin always told me to do my best not to go to bed with worries on my mind and I intend to do that tonight. So no more talks about weddings. I just want to kiss you and go to bed."

Flora smiled, "I can promise you that."

Helia smiled before he placed a tender kiss on Flora's lips, just like he had done every night for over a month. It was just so natural, and it was rare to find moments where Helia could truly be himself. His days consisted of meetings and trainings, he hated all of them. The court expected him to act in one way during the meetings and his father had expectations that Helia could never meet when he was with the troops. But with Flora, Helia was free to be himself. He was allowed to smile, laugh, tease, and tell Flora his deepest feelings. Feelings to the people of Hademort were a nuisance to be avoided but Flora never shamed him for feeling.

He would now certainly go to bed happy.

"Tomorrow." Helia said again as he broke the kiss and looked down at Flora.

She paused before she placed a final kiss on Helia's cheek, "Tomorrow."

"Good night, Flora."

"Sweet dreams, Helia."

Making his way up the stairs of the servants' quarters, Helia felt his heart beating at a maddening pace, still reeling on the lingering feel of Flora's lips on his and the promise of tomorrow. He would see her tomorrow and she would try to spend the night with him the next night. The fact that she would try was enough for him.

The hallways were silent as he made his way through the dark corridors. There was no moon that night and the fires in the sconces had been dimmed at the late hour. The palace had gone to sleep for the night and had been prepared for the next day. As Helia's black boots hit the stone, he did his best not to sprint down the hallway. He wanted to get to his room so that he could quickly get ready for bed knowing that the sooner he fell asleep, the sooner he would wake and maybe see Flora's face on his way to breakfast as she made her way down the hallways to prepare the princess for her day.

Reaching his room, Helia swung open the wooden door and stepped inside the dark room. There was a small candle lit in a brass holder on the edge of his desk that he picked up and lit the sconces on the wall, bringing the room to life. However, as the room came to life under the warm lights of the fire, Helia jumped back when he saw the last person he wanted to see in his room.

"Sir..." Helia gasped as he saw his father sitting in a chair in the corner of his room.

So much for going to sleep happy and worry free.

Azrael was leaned back in a large, leather chair, his legs crossed and holding a glass of whiskey. Helia glanced over to the small table with the silver tray and saw that one of his glasses was missing and the bottle of whiskey was at a lower level than it was in the morning. Well, lower than it had been for a week.

"Sit, boy." Azrael commanded as he looked up and glared at Helia.

Helia swallowed the remaining spit as his mouth quickly went dry. What was his father doing in his room? Why was he waiting in the dark? His father never came to his room, Azrael never came to Helia at all. Helia was always summoned to him. His father never wanted to see him unless he had to. So what was Azrael doing here in his room so late at night?

"I said sit, boy." Azrael reiterated but Helia was frozen in place, "Have you gone deaf or are you just that big of a fucking idiot?"

Helia blinked as he looked at his father. His body finally catching up with his head as he quickly sat down in the leather chair across from his father. He sat up straight, still worried as to what Azrael was doing in his room. What did he need? What did he want? Did something happen to Duncan? Helia could only hope.

"So you aren't deaf, just an idiot." Azrael remarked before he took a sip of the whiskey.

"Sir?"

"Do you seriously don't think that I know? That this whole palace doesn't know?" Azrael asked through a clenched jaw, clearly angry at something that had happened.

"I don't-"

"You and that Linphean girl!" Azrael exclaimed as his black eyes shot daggers into Helia.

Helia did his best to keep his face as neutral as possible, not wanting to give his father any kind of reaction.

"Do you not think that the whole palace doesn't know that you spend your evenings with her? That you are teaching that dumb village bitch to read? A fucking waste of time! What reason does she have to learn to read?! There is even a ridiculous rumor that you two spend most of the time with your hands all over each other and that most nights you are connected by the lips! You're a fucking idiot if you think that girl actually likes you. I would laugh if the idea of you and that girl weren't so pathetic. Who would ever like someone like you? A good for nothing, worthless, useless waste of space like you. You are nothing but a prince to her, only wanting you for your station. I would feel bad for you, but I only feel bad for myself for having an idiot for a son!"

Helia was finding it harder and harder to maintain the stoic expression on his face as his father continued to yell at him. What made it harder were the things that he said to him about Flora.

"Don't talk about-" Helia tried to protest his father's cruel words about the woman he loved but his father continued his ranting.

"That Linphean girl has a nice little body and is obedient to a fault, a perfect woman to warm any bed and she would be the perfect wife. That is why she is promised to Duncan. She will be Duncan's because he deserves the best. I would ask if you have fucked her yet but knowing you, you haven't." Azrael scoffed as he took a sip of his whiskey, "Too much of an impotent coward to do so. But I suppose that is a good thing seeing as the general wants her pure so he can break her in the way he likes. You will never have her so don't get your hopes up, boy. She would never want you when she is promised to a man like the general, a man who I hear knows how to satisfy a woman. All you have ever done is disappoint everyone around you. So you will marry that vapid little princess and that farm bitch will spend the rest of her life with a real man. Do I make myself understood?"

Silence covered the room as Azrael glared at Helia and Helia glared right back. Black and blue eyes met as father warned his son and as son did his best to control his temper. Helia thought that he was being so careful, that he and Flora would be allowed to be together in secret before they were ready to come clean. If that day ever came. Instead, the one person that Helia didn't want to know about him, and Flora was seated in his room, telling Helia that he knew. Fortunately, Azrael did not know the full extent of Helia's relationship with Flora. Azrael yelled at Helia for spending time with Flora, Helia couldn't begin to imagine what his father might do if he knew about how Flora had spent the evening with Helia on the night that he was announcing her engagement to Duncan.

"I understand, sir." Helia replied, doing his best to placate his father and get him out of the room. Helia was starting to lose patience and he wanted his father out of the room before he did something that he was going to regret.

"Forget about her. Focus on what's important. A woman like her will never love someone as weak as you. Don't mistake her kindness as love, all women are the same. They tell you they love you and then they break your heart." Azrael stood up and placed the now empty glass on the silver tray, "If you need to satisfy whatever urges you have running through that empty head of yours, have Griffin send one of her girls over to the palace. A whore is all you're worth anyway."

Azrael walked over to the bedroom door and placed his hand on the brass handle, pushing down and opening the door.

"You are nothing and you deserve nothing. It is time that you get that through your head, boy. Either you cast her aside or I will find a way to get rid of her until she is married to the general." Azrael turned around before leaving with a few choice parting words.

"It should have been you."

Azrael left and Helia knew exactly what that meant. It was no secret that Azrael wished that Helia had died instead of his mother. His father hated him for what he had done to the queen. Saladin had spent a majority of Helia's life telling him that it wasn't his fault, that his mother had been fine after Helia's birth, despite the difficult delivery. Nobody could have predicted the queen's early death, but Azrael placed the blame on Helia and the physicians, all of whom had lost their heads because of it. Helia supposed that he would have died too but a king killing his only son would not sit well in the court.

That was also when Azrael turned his attention to the orphan boy who served in the barracks. The boy was large, sneaky, and strong. Different from the prince who had held onto the stories that his mother and grandfather had told him. Azrael turned his attention to Duncan, making him the pride of Hademort and Helia soon became the son that Azrael wished he never had.

"It should have been you."

Helia was used to it. It hadn't been the first time that he had heard these words come from his father but when he said it after telling him he wasn't good enough for Flora, those words hurt more than they had before. He knew that he wasn't good enough for Flora, nobody was but his father's word just added to the sting of insignificance that Helia had already felt.

How could he stay away from Flora? Especially now that he had gotten her heart, mind, and body. She was a gift sent to him and he would never willingly cast her aside. He couldn't do it. But when his father said that it was either Helia do it or Azrael would get rid of her, Helia felt his heart drop to his stomach and bile built up in his throat. It was his worst dream come true.

Helia's eyes went to the bottle of whiskey and like the night of his birthday, the need for a drink took over as fear and worry consumed his mind. What would he say to Flora? He promised her no more secrets but if she knew, would that lead her to more danger? Would it be better if he kept the secret and let Flora think that he hated her? She wouldn't fight him if she thought that he hated her, that there was no hope for them. But he could never treat her like that. He would always love Flora and she knew it.

Helia also came to the realization that there were eyes and ears in the palace that he was unaware of. The only person who knew about the nature of his relationship was Saladin, but Helia immediately came to the conclusion that Saladin hadn't been the one reporting back to his father. Saladin knew how far Helia and Flora had gone but his father didn't know what happened the night of his birthday. If Saladin were the one who was sneaking information about him and Flora, the conversation with his father just moments ago would have gone a lot differently.

But the wandering eyes and the loose lips of someone or multiple people in the palace no longer mattered. It didn't matter if Azrael knew the details, what was important is that he knew.

Azrael knew about Helia's love for Flora and just like Duncan, he had threatened her and him. What kind of father threatened the person that his child loved more than life itself? Helia's father did. Helia had thought that he could protect Flora, that they could keep their relationship a secret until the time was right, but Helia should have known that his father and Duncan would have found out. Azrael and Duncan always knew how to find what Helia loved and take it away from him. But they would not take away Flora.

Was he being selfish? His father had threatened Flora. Helia did not want to be parted from Flora, he did not want her to think that he hated her and make her upset. He had seen her cry too many times and he didn't want to be the cause of any more intentional misery in her life. She didn't deserve that. She didn't deserve any of this. But now Helia stood in the middle of his room, staring at the bottle of whiskey, and thinking about what to do next. Maybe Duncan was better than him. Maybe his father had a point. Both were always one step ahead and Helia was left to pick up the pieces. All he did was disappoint over and over again. Flora deserved better than that.

He and Flora said that they would come up with a plan together, but Helia had to make a decision. He couldn't be selfish. Flora had to be safe.

Tearing his eyes away from the half-full bottle of whiskey, Helia made a dash towards his door and down the hallway back down to the servants' quarters. There was only one person that he wanted to talk to at that moment; he couldn't imagine talking to anyone else about this. The kitchen was quiet and cold when he walked through, void of every trace of Flora after she cleaned up. Making his way through the kitchen and down the hall of the small rooms where the servants slept, Helia came across the room he needed and stopped in front of the door. Taking a quick breath, Helia raised his hand and knocked on the wooden door.

Helia kept knocking, desperate for them to answer but his knocking ceased when the door opened and standing in the doorway, their hair pulled back into a braid, was just the person Helia needed.

"Your Highness, it is late, what do you need?"

Helia's face fell, and his eyes suddenly conveyed the urgency by which he had come to the small room. He had to talk, he had to know what to do next. He needed a plan.

"Grandfather…"