Her fingers trailed down his long silvery hair, smoothing out the silky strands in gentle strokes. Of course he could not feel it, but she could not care less. A faint smile drew on her lips as her left hand's fingers trailed one more down his hair. He had fallen asleep. Just like that, so easily, all his guard had tumbled down and he had drifted off. It had barely been, what? An hour? Two hours? She could not tell, but she did not care, not even minding as her legs started to become numb from the slight weight of his head resting comfortably on her lap.

The freezing winter breeze toyed with her loose strands of ash colored hair, sticking them to her face, but she did not lift a hand to push the away. Her right hand was still safely held in his, and she did not dare move it for fear of waking him. Not that she ever wanted to move than hand, in any case. Outside, through the thin arcade of twisting columns that separated the terrace from the vast Palace's Gardens, the trees swayed and ruffled at the cold wind, their leaves still as green as the summer, even through the coat of ice that had started to cover them.

She closed her eyes for a moment, a smile drawing on her face as she felt his resting spirit so close to hers, suddenly peaceful and calmed when hours ago it had been ruled by turmoil. Her cotton handkerchief still rested over his face, covering his stunning emerald eyes from view, and she wondered whether or not a few hours of sleep would help at all with his headache. She could still feel the wound, too overwhelmingly present, impossible to miss. Not, not wound. She did not really know how to call it, what exactly it was, but it was always there, ever since the first time her spirit felt his, as if part of him was missing, part of his spirit broken, injured. It had to be painful, perhaps even more than merely painful. She had suspected it from the first time she had felt it, but now she was sure. She did not know how such a wound could have happened, could not even imagine it. And yet, so many other things were suddenly clearer to her, why it had taken him so long to even allow her spirit to get close to his, why he had pushed her spirit away in so many occasions.

And there was that mark as well, the one he had not wanted her to see, not until yesterday. He had pulled his arm away from her hands so quickly that she still wondered how she managed to hide her surprise. But he had shown it to her, just when she had been determined to pretend she had not seen anything, he had shown it to her. Such a tiny mark that at first she could barely see it before it became increasingly clear it was there. A handprint. A child's handprint, judging by the size. She had not asked questions, but she did not need to ask to know that whatever had caused the wound in his spirit had also left that mark upon his arm. Elves did not scar, and for a mark to be permanently left on his flesh, the wound must have needed to be far worse than physical….and it had been.

And then, there was that power….that unyielding strength that she had felt in his spirit, hiding just behind the tearing wound, and yet still there, although broken. She even wondered if he even knew it was there? If he could feel it at all, or if the pain of the wound was too much for him to look even deeper inside? But there was power in him, or at least there had been at some point, power beyond anything she had ever felt or imagined existed, almost like…magic. The King wielded old magic. That was common knowledge among elves. But no matter how much she tried she could not once remember ever seeing or hearing about the Crown Prince doing the same. But then again, nobody talked about that.

The wind rustled the frozen leaves once more, a flock of birds dashing to the air form a nearby branch once if shook. On her lap Arahaelon stirred, moving his head slightly to the side, but he did not wake. She let out a single quiet chuckle, her left hand not moving again down his hair until she was sure the movement would not wake him. If anyone would have told her that she would be sitting here, in this terrace, with the Crown Prince sleeping peacefully with his head resting on her lap, she would have never believed it. Not the Crown Prince. He had always been so distant, so regal and serene that she would never have believed he would ever allow himself to fall asleep in the presence of others. And yet here he was. Here she was. He was still a mystery to her, and she was somehow known that no matter how much she knew him, nobody would ever fully know what was going through his mind, that mind that seemed to never stop thinking, quicker than knew he would ever let on, or fully read through his emerald eyes, that missed nothing, seeming to see things her very own eyes could not.

Her head snapped up at faint sound of light footsteps entering the terrace. Blood rushed to her face the second her eyes landed on the tall elegant figure standing just at the entrance of the terrace, and, Valar, she was eternally grateful that elves did not blush.

"Your Majesty."

A pair of piercing ice blue eyes met hers, belonging to none other than her King himself, standing royal and powerful just a couple of feet away from her, closer than he had ever been in her life. His long pale gold robes brushed the marble floor as he moved, reflecting the shimmer of the winter's sun outside, his waterfall of long silvery hair perfectly braided underneath the Mirkwood Crown of silver leaves. Her first reacting was to rise to her feet, as anyone should in the presence of the King, but she stopped herself before she moved, torn in between proper manners or waking Arahaelon. And, oh, Eru, she was suddenly so very aware of his son's sleeping head resting on her lap.

However, the King stopped her even before she had the chance to make a decision, one of his hands elegantly rising up in the air and indicating her to stay sitting down. She swallowed once, her body suddenly stiff with nerves. She watched the King's eyes drift to his son's figure before meeting hers again, and, valar, never before had wanted more to be invisible. However, whatever it was the King was thinking, she could not tell, his face ever so calm and patient.

"Is he asleep?" The Elvenking whispered, stopping to stand only a couple of feet from where she was sitting, one pale hand pointing in Arahaelon's direction. She nodded her had as a reply, not really trusting her voice to speak.

"Should I….?" She started, her voice as low as she could manage without waking Arahaelon, but once again the King stopped her before she could finish her question.

"No." He said, waving an elegant hand at her question. "Let him sleep. I will find him later."

"Tell him to go over these tonight. It is important." The Elvenking added as he placed a thin stack of papers he had been carrying over a nearby table, placing a small heavy ornamental figure over them so that the wind would not blow them away.

She nodded her head once more, indicating that she had understood, her voice once again having abandoned her, still wishing to disappear. But the King did not say anything else, merely elegantly turning on his heels and leaving the terrace as calmly as he had arrived, leaving her there with her heart still racing with nerves on her chest. Valar, the King knew. He did not know why but she had never even thought about the King everm knowing that she had been seeing the Crown Prince for some time now. She had worried about her aunt and uncle knowing, about the rest of the elves finding out, about the other Princes and the Princess, but the King had never crossed her mind….and it did not make it any easier to know that he was none other than Arahaleon's father.

As if he had somehow felt her body stiffen and her nerves rising, the Crown Prince stirred on the chaise, letting out a puff of warm air through his nose that she felt even through the silk of her dress. He was awake. Just was she had wanted to avoid. His left hand lifted slowly to his face, pulling away her handkerchief only to reveal those stunning forest green eyes blinking hazily at the light, still partially asleep. He looked around him for a second, partially confused, as if only then remembering where he was or what it was he was doing there, making it impossible for her to hold back a giggle.

"I fell asleep?" He asked, his voice still hoarse with sleep, barely audible to her ears. His piercing emerald eyes met hers, and suddenly all of her previous nerves were gone, everything else disappearing into those endless welcoming eyes, greener than the summer leaves.

"You did." She laughed at his confused expression, one that she was sure very few elves in the Palace had ever seen. "You can go back to sleep, if you wish."

She had not wanted him to wake up just yet, wanting him to rest for a least a few more hours, but he only waved his hand at her words, the gesture resembling too much the one the king had made only minutes before.

"How's your headache?" She asked as he pushed himself up to sit on the chaise, tingles running down her numb legs from now lifted weight of his head.

"Better." He smiled, that faint smile that managed to touch his eyes. He brushed a strand of his light blond hair from his perfectly angled face, placing it behind a pale pointed ear. His long formal robes were now visible wrinkled as he sat up, a sight incredibly unusual to her, making her smile wider.

"This," He lifted her white handkerchief for her to see, still held in his left hand. "I intend to keep."

"And what do I get in return?" She laughed, unable to look away from his pearly grin and emerald eyes. He was in a good mood. Sleeping had certainly helped him.

"You already have my robes." He pointed out, and she closed her mouth at his answer, for a second short of what to say in return. And he seemed to notice that, for his grin only grew wider on his face.

"Fair trade." She agreed, even though she would give him all of the handkerchiefs she owned if he wanted them too.

"Your father was here." She mentioned, throwing him a long meaningful look, but for a second he looked at her in confusion.

"Did he say what for?" Was all he asked, not seeming to share any of the nerves and anxiety that she herself was feeling.

"He left those for you." She replied, pointing to the thin stack of papers lying on the nearby table waiting for him. "Said you should go over them tonight."

He made a face, her laughter echoing in the silent winter air at the uncharacteristic expression. On those moments, where there was nobody else but the two of them it was as if he became a different person, as if that wall of calmness and silence that always seemed to surround him vanished, revealing a side of him that she wondered how many elves even knew existed.

"He said they were important." She added, not wanting to leave out any part of the message.

"They always are." He shrugged, but nonetheless stood up and made his way towards the round table, his wrinkled robes trailing elegantly behind him. She stayed where she was, watching his tall figure picking up the stack of papers, eyes running through them quickly in silence. Whatever those documents were, they were not for her eyes.

After a few seconds he walked back to where she sat, lowering himself next to her and dropping the pile of papers on his lap.

"What are they?" She asked, hands smoothing out the skirt of her dress. "If I may ask." She added quickly, remembering that perhaps the documents were confidential.

"They are from today's Council Meeting, but I cannot show them to you or tell you what they say." He smiled apologetically to her, and she shook her head in reply, waving a hand at his words.

"Still," She added, her hazel eyes returning to meet his with a pointed look. "Your father was here."

And there it was again, that slightly confused expression that crossed his impenetrable emerald eyes at her words, not seeming to understand what was the problem with that, and it took her another pointed look for him to finally catch up.

"Oh." He finally said, letting out a round of that quiet laughter that would always make butterflies flutter inside her stomach, emerald eyes looking at her curiously.

"Oh." She emphasized, trying to look serious but failing immensely.

"He knows about you." He said as if it was the most casual thing, leaning in a pressing a quick kiss on her right cheek.

"You told him?!" Her eyes widened, blood once again running to her face.

"I did not." He clarified with another round of that quiet laughter, one of his eyebrows rising high on his forehead. "He figured out there was someone, but he does not know it is you."

"Well, now he does!" She exclaimed, not finding any comfort in the amused gleam that invaded his bright emerald eyes.

"Why are you so nervous about that?" He looked at her curiously, his left hand reaching to take hers, fingers intertwining so easily with hers, so gently, still smiling at her expression. "You have nothing to be worried about."

"Because, in case you have failed to notice, he happens to be the King." She answered through her teeth, once again grateful that she could not blush, his laughter once again dancing like silver bells on the winter breeze.

"And he also happens to be my father." He replied, the wide smile never leaving his face as he spoke, fingers squeezing hers.

"Do not worry, Indi," Her heart swelled at the sound of her shortened name leaving his mouth, her eyes unable to look away from his endless emerald ones. "You will not be sent to the dungeons." He mocked her, her mouth opening in surprise and her hand slapping playfully at his shoulder.

"Have you eaten lunch yet?" He changed the subject, rising up to his feet and offering a hand to her, pulling her up gently.

"No." She shook her head, only now realizing how hungry she was. It was already close to midafternoon, both of them had skipped lunch while he slept and she had not even noticed it.

"Would you join me?" He offered, the butterflies in her stomach fluttering widely again.

"Will the King be there as well?" She asked mockingly, eliciting a round of quiet laughter from him, shaking his head lightly, silvery hair brushing his shoulders.

"No. It will just be me." He clarified, leaving the way outside the freezing terrace and through the Palace's grand corridors. "Do you mind if we stop by my chambers first? I need to drop these off."

He lifted the stack of papers he had been carefully holding on his left hand for her to see, just as they climbed over a grand marble staircase, the light from an interior garden filtering through the narrow colonnade.

"Do I get to see the view from your balcony?" She used her hand to lift the front of her dress and avoid tripping on it up the wide staircase. Ever since he had mentioned that his balcony had a view of the gardens some time ago she had not been able to stop wondering how the endless gardens filled with flowers and ponds would look from high above.

"It is not that fascinating." He mocked her enthusiasm, the end of his lip curving up in a faint smile. They turned right on a long closed corridor, filled with grand doors that she had no idea where they led to. They were starting to cross parts of the Palace that she had not even known existed.

"You think that because you see it every day." She pointed out, following him into yet another corridor that flanked a wide open courtyard.

Her heart skipped a beat as they started up another grand marble staircase, the one that she knew led towards the Royal Quarters, a part of the Palace that was off limits to everyone. She had been there before, perhaps once or twice when she has nothing but an elfling, playing along with Legolas, but she did not remember much. And yet, it felt so different now, as if she was truly headed somewhere she was not supposed to be allowed into had it not been for Arahaelon's presence next to her.

There were guards in nearly every corridor now, and yet not one of them even turned to look in their direction, as if they were not even there, and she was sure that had she been alone she would have been asked a leave these corridors a long time ago. She had even lost track of how many turns they had taken, how many corridors and courtyards and gardens they had crossed. Everything seemed to be larger here, the ceilings were higher, the columns culminating the shapes of twisting branches the tangled in carved stone to compose the illusion of a canopy. Even the doors were taller, the wood perfectly carved in shapes and figures that almost seemed to move.

Finally, they turned right on a long ample corridor lined with five large doors, three on the right and two on the left. And then, Arahaelon stopped, at one of the doors on the right, the first one. His hand gently pushed it open without giving it a second thought, waiting for her to go inside first. The sight that met her eyes was perhaps the largest bedchamber that she had ever seen, the whole set of chambers that her family shared in the Palace could have fit inside and still have room for some more.

She stepped through the small space that served as a sort of antechamber, although there was no door dividing it from the main bedchamber, only furnished by a couple of large chairs and a small round table. And then, she laughed, cursing her luck and at the same time utterly embarrassed at what her eyes were witnessing. Of course. She had already known it, and yet seeing it with her own eyes did not make it any easier. Of course his bedchambers would be the neatest place in the Palace. Valar, and he had seen her own mess of a room overflowing with misplaced books. Here, everything seemed to belong exactly where it was, not a single item looking out of place.

In the center of the room, with the most intricate headboard she could have ever imagined was a bed large enough to fit at least four comfortable sleeping elves, the bed covers of a silken dark blue shade that matched the long swaying curtains over the windows. A couple of bookshelves lined the walls, filled nearly from the floor to higher than she could reach, and she had to stop herself from curiously walking in their direction to inspect each and every single book. Apart from that, there was a large wooden round table to one corner, with four high-backed chairs around it, and a grand fireplace carved in white marble where orange and red flames were already dancing, bringing the room just to the perfect temperature in this freezing winter day.

He walked past her, heading towards a large wooden desk that she had not even noticed to one corner of the room. She followed him slowly, watching him absentmindedly place the documents he had been holding upon its surface. Something else caught her eyes, sitting there on the desk's surface, just above a couple of blank parchments. It was a drawing. Her eyes danced over the collection of expertly traced lines, ranging from thin and barely visible to dark and thick, the shadows and lights placed so perfectly that it even seemed real, not a drawing. She wanted to reach a hand and take, to look at it closer, but she did not move, already feeling his powerful emerald eyes looking at her intently as if trying to figure out what she would do, what she would say. And she somehow knew that touching the drawing would only push him away, would make him tense, some of his barriers return. But still, she could not take her eyes away from it, even though she did not dare touch it.

She had already known he could draw. she had quickly glanced over a couple of them on that book he had dropped some time ago in the gardens, but even then she had not dared to look through the pages of the book. He had not shown it to her, had not offered for her to look. But of course he would not. Just as he would always sit a calculated distance from her at the beginning, how he would not even let her use his given name without tensing some time ago. His drawings were him. And she wondered if anyone, even inside his own family had ever been allowed to look through all of them.

"Is that her?" She found herself asking, the words leaving her mouth before she could stop them. But she could not look away from the perfectly depicted figure of a baby, smiling loudly in the arms of a beautiful lady that she did not need to ask to know it was the Queen. "Your sister?"

Impenetrable emerald eyes met hers for a long moment, so deep, silent, so many thoughts swirling just beneath the surface but where she could never reach them, watching her, as if trying to read her reaction, anticipate her behavior, and for a second she regretted ever asking about the drawing.

"Yes." He finally said, just when she had expected he would not answer, and yet his hand quickly brushed over the desk's surface, placing one of the blank pieces of parchment over the drawing, obstructing it from view. "That was Almarëa….Is Almarëa, I suppose."

She opened her mouth, but closed it again, not wanting to push him away by asking more questions he did not want to answer. Because he would answer her, even if he was not ready to. She turned her face around, eyes landing on the thin glass doors that led towards the balcony.

"May I?" She changed the subject, her feet already making her way towards the ample open balcony that seemed to call to her. He did not answer with words, only motioning with a hand for her to go ahead, that faint smile once again returning to his face, although it did not completely reach his eyes. His sister was still in his thoughts, she did not need to ask to know, and she wished there was something she could do to help, but there was nothing.

The sight that met her eyes truly was fascinating, no matter what he had said. They were so high up in the Palace that she could not even walk all to way to the railing without felling as though she would fall, suddenly glad that her own balcony was not as high up. Stretching out in front of her she could see the entire gardens, one by one, the flowers and leaves all blending out into a sprinkles on a vast canvas, the wild open forest stretching just behind. She could even see her favorite pond, the one with the lilies, the white floating flowers looking only like tiny dots in the distance.

"You lied to me." She chuckled as she heard him approaching from behind her, his tall and elegant silhouette now visible from the corner of her eyes. "You said it would not be fascinating."

"I suppose it can be fascinating." She shrugged, her stomach knotting in nerves and soaring in butterflies as she caught his emerald eyes fixed on her, those deep mysterious eyes that were greener than the forest below. "Why do you not go all the way to the railing?"

"No." She said all too quickly, taking a step backwards almost instinctively. Only thinking about leaning against that thin intertwining railing was already making her head spin, and she could already feel herself falling, falling from so, so, so high up. His musical laughter filled the air, that quiet almost shy sound that she would never tire of hearing.

"You will not fall." He seemed to read her thoughts, offering a hand that she took almost a little begrudgingly, his fingers feeling freezing in the cold afternoon air. But still, when he tried to lead her forward, she did not move, planting both of her feet firmly on the marble floor, eliciting another round of laughter from his part.

"Indilene." He breathed out, his eyes looking at her so deeply that she almost felt as though she would drown in them. His silvery hair danced with a gust of wind, brushing his shoulders and falling into his face, and she realized that it was one of the few times she had seen him without his hair perfectly braided. "You will not fall. Come with me."

He tried to lead her forward again, but her feet did not move, making him laugh lightly once more. And then, an arm slid around her waist, from behind, her heart beating frantically at the feeling of his warm skin, feeling his perfectly sculpted muscles even through the fabric of her dress. He took a measured small step forward, and this time she moved along, her hand flying to grip at his own one across her waist for security. The railing was coming closer and closer, and she was torn between being dizzy with fright and longing to actually see the view at its finest.

Her eyes shut tightly for the last couple of steps, and she was only aware of his gently hands taking hers and placing them over the railing, which she gripped so tightly her knuckles turned white. Another round of chuckles filled the air, echoing just on her right ear, and she had not even realized how close his face was from hers.

"You have to open your eyes to look at the view." He pointed out, the arm around her waist starting to let go but she gripped at it fiercely.

"No, no, no, no. Do not let go of me. I will fall." She said in a rush, and this time both of his arms wrapped around her waist from behind, her back resting on his chest.

"You will not fall." He reassured her again, but nonetheless he did not let go of her. Only then did she dare open her eyes, even though her head spun the second she opened her eyelids.

And yet, the view….the view was truly better from up close, where there was nothing but the railing and the gardens and forest far far ahead.

"How are you not scared of falling?" She questioned him, her heart skipping a beat as he rested his chin over her right shoulder.

"Because I know I will not fall." He replied with a shrug, his lips placing a gentle quick kiss on her cheek that nearly made her as dizzy as the height. "And neither will you."

"Are you all right now?" He asked her after a few minutes, her knuckles still white but she nodded her head. As long as she did not move from she was, she could manage the height.

Btu she was not ready for his arms letting go of her, starting to protest but not daring to let go of the railing.

"No, no, no, where are you going?" She demanded almost instantly, letting out nervous giggles in the process.

"I am still here." He replied, his voice always so calmed, rounding her in order to be able to look at her face, leaning back against the railing.

And then, he jumped, his hands easily pushing him up to sit on the delicate railing, facing her, and she was sure her heart flipped so dangerously that it almost jumped out of her chest, her eyes going wide.

"Get down from there!" She instructed almost immediately, watching as he only grinned amusedly at her from his place sitting on the railing, one of his hands coming to rest over hers.

"Indi." He said, her attention once again focusing solely on him at the sound of her name in his musical voice. "It is fine."

"You do know, that if you fall, I will be in enormous trouble for being the only one present. They might even believe I pushed you!" She was trying to be serious, but she only managed to make him laugh once more, his forest green eyes feeling like an anchor point to her, merely looking into them making her fear dissipate, her limbs relax.

"That would surely never be forgotten in history. 'The Crown Prince of Mirkwood that fell from his own balcony'." He grinned, making her shake his head at him.

"It does not sound very heroic." She raised an eyebrow at him, narrowing her eyes at his teasing comments, even though she would never tire of seeing him like this, so uncharacteristically relaxed.

"No, it does not." He agreed with her, but he did not jump down from he was sitting precariously on the railing. She had to admit that somehow, seeing him sitting there so casually was starting to ease her fear, somehow making the height feel less threatening, and she wondered if he had chosen to sit there precisely on purpose.

Now that he was sitting there, so close to her, something else caught her eyes. The gentle cold breeze played with his robes, moving the high elegant collar just so for her to see angry pink lines marring his skin, at the base of his neck, and disappearing underneath his formal garments. Nail marks, that was unmistakable, and yet she felt her heart drop painfully inside of her at the sight that he was still oblivious she could see.

"What happened?" She could not stop herself from asking, worry tearing at her insides. For a second, his emerald eyes met hers before quickly understanding what she was talking about, but he made no attempt to once again hide the marks, merely looking at her for a long moment.

"I had a bad night." Was all he offered as an explanation, but she did not need more than that. She could put two and two together. So he had done that to himself. The sole thought of that made her heart sink even lower. It had been his own fingers which had torn through his skin….and for it to get to that point, bad night was an understatement. It was all related: his exhaustion that day, the headache, now the marks on his skin, how he did not want her spirit to touch his today. It was the wound, and she somehow know that he could tell she had picked up on it.

"Does anything ever help?" She found herself asking, her voice barely more than a whisper, not knowing why she was even asking about it. "When it gets bad, does anything help?"

"No." She had somehow expected that answer, but it did not make it easier to hear. And yet she was even surprised that he did answer her.

"Is that why you stopped drawing?" His posture tensed almost imperceptibly at her question, impenetrable emerald eyes gazing at her intently, silent, consuming.

"How do you know I stopped drawing?" He asked in return, his eyes studying her all too carefully, guarded, yet not pushing her away, but careful, careful of anything he said, or did.

"There is nothing on your desk that indicated you have been drawing anytime recently." She answered truthfully, her eyes never once leaving his, open and unguarded where his were cautious and unreadable. "You look at them, in your sketchbooks, but you never carry a quill, or charcoal, or graphite with you, which makes me assume that you are only looking at them, not drawing."

"You are very observant." He said, neither his eyes nor perfectly serene face letting anything through.

"Says you." She pointed out, relieved when for a split second a faint smile crossed his face before disappearing once more. If there was anyone in the realm who really was observant, it was him.

"There are many reasons why I stopped drawing." He started, his voice lower than usual. Hi forest green eyes drifted away from her, to gaze at nothing in particular out in the distance, and she took a step closer to him, still holding tight to the railing. He always did that, unnoticed to nearly every elf in the Palace who did not wish to see, he always looked away when what he was saying was not easy for him. "I guess that was one of them."

"Will you ever draw again?" She asked, his eyes only then returning to look at him again for a long second before answering.

"Perhaps." Was his only answer, but she did not push for more.

She opened her mouth but was interrupted by a sudden knock on the tall wooden door. Arahaelon jumped down from the railing in a move so fluid she barely even saw it, offering her a hand before leading her back inside the safety of the warm bedchambers.

"Enter" He called out with such ease that she was suddenly reminded that he must be used to being the one in charge. A tall dark haired guard stepped through the door, stopping only a couple of steps inside the room and not daring to venture any further in, as if there was an invisible line he was forbidden to cross.

"My Lord." The guard started with a respectful bow before continuing. "His Majesty requests your presence in his study immediately. He asks that you dress formally, my Lord."

"Thank you, I will be there shortly." Arahaelon replied almost instantly, suddenly standing sot all and regal that she almost felt plain, the guard merely nodding his head before disappearing from the room, closing the door behind him.

"There goes my free day." The Crown Prince muttered with an amused smile as he suddenly moved across the room, discarding his wrinkled outer robes over the back of a chair and putting on a clean set of royal blue ones that perfectly matched his formal undertunic and leggings.

She followed him with her eyes, entertained watching him move towards a long dresser with at least ten drawers. His slender fingers almost absentmindedly opened a large flat beautifully carved wooden box sitting upon its surface, retrieving an exquisite silver circlet from its blue interior velvet. He placed it on his head with the same with which one places an insignificant hair pin, or tie, as it was something he did almost every day. But she guessed it was. And then, he was walking in her direction, opening the large ornate door for her to walk through it first and into the long open corridor.

"I will walk you down to the terraces." He spoke gently as they made their way from the labyrinthine wide hallways of the Royal Quarters, offering her an apologetic smile, and she was glad he would walk with her because she was sure she would not be able to find her way back on her own.

"Very well. But you still owe me the lunch you offered." Was all she said, listening once again to his quiet silver like chuckles as they echoed on the tall slender columns….

Here is chapter 11! Sorry for the long wait hehe, I actually had half of the chapter written and then last minute decided that I did not like it so I changed nearly half of it. I hope you enjoy reading it or that it can at least brings smile to your face!

Thank you again immensely to all who reviewed the last chapter, really every single one of your words means the world to me: Amsim, Saum the Smol Teddy, Mystifying Roses, artvandelay5001, and helenaxo!

Love,

Elena