Disclaimer: It's not mine; Sherwood Smith is the brain behind the operation.

Thanks for all of the reviews. I really appreciate it. Thanks also for the advice. I'd like to apologize for Danric seeming a bit foolish; I just wanted Mel to be the smart one for once. Just to let you know Danric only gets more foolish as the story goes on, so if that offends you sorry.

Chapter 4: Romance

Dinner had been utterly exhausting. Danric didn't think he could stand one more veiled comment about available ladies who had 'fine leadership skills.' He knew his parents meant well but couldn't they find a more subtle and less annoying way of pointing out who they thought would make fine queens. Besides they hadn't once mentioned Meliara and that only vexed him more. How could they be so blind to her excellent leadership qualities, but see the same qualities in ladies who didn't really have them?

All he wanted to do was get to his room, collapse on his bed and never get up. This was a foolish wish of course. Every night he was plagued with dreams of Meliara, which drove him from his bed to wander the halls. You wouldn't think that dreaming of one's love could cause such pain, but the happy scenes filled with children and a brilliant Mel always left him empty because they showed things he knew could never be.

Batting aside his door tapestry he instantly knew something was out of place. His eyes swept the room and settled on his tea set; usually the servants gave him two cups. Tonight there was only one. Not that Danric ever had company for his late night tea, but his servants were hopeless romantics always hoping he would bring a lady to his room to share tea with. They probably spent too much time talking to his mother (the lot of them couldn't seem to see he wasn't interested).

Letting his eyes sweep the rest of the room he froze and felt his breath drain away. He had located his missing tea cup. It was in the beautiful and graceful hands of none other than the Countess of Tlanth, his heart's desire. She was sitting on the cushions in front of his fire as if she did so every day, as if she belonged there. For the first time in months he felt hope blossom in his heart. Maybe she could love him, just maybe. Of course he could never know unless he told her how he felt. He hated to admit it, but Russav was right, he had to tell her. Without even stopping to think about what he was about to do or the results it could bring (a first for him), he cleared his throat and said, "I love you, Meliara Astair, I always will."

Chapter 5: Stubborn Idiots

Lost in thought Meliara was far to engaged to notice if anyone had entered the room. She had been thinking about what she had overheard in the garden and come to some rather startling conclusions.

First, she really needed to think things out before she did them, like climbing trees and falling asleep in them. Second, she really ought to see to it that Russav met a painful death for his unmerciful teasing and laughter. And finally, she loved the Marquis of Shevraeth. She didn't know when it had happened, but he had stolen her heart. He'd just swept in mysterious as always and snatched it away so fast she hadn't even had time to notice it was his until now. Now she only had to find the courage to tell him how she felt. That of course was only a 'small detail,' HA!

Of course the fact was someone had entered the room and when his voice sounded out of no where Meliara started and of course dropped her tea cup. As the cup shattered on the floor she leapt to her feet turning about the color of a tomato ready to offer her apologies. Then the words that had just been spoken sunk in. Whirling around in amazement she found herself staring into Shevraeth's beautiful gray eyes. Usually these eyes were covered in an impressive mask that swept away all emotion, but right now standing in front of her his mask was gone. His entire face was open for her to read like a book.

She could see love, fear, and a little bit of hope, which seemed to be growing smaller with each passing second that she stood gaping in stunned silence. He had just said he loved her, and now her heart soared. She opened her mouth to tell him how wonderful he was, how much she wanted to be near him, how much she loved him.

But before she could even get a word out of her mouth Shevraeth cut her off, his face was again masked, but his eyes shone with hurt, "I'm sorry if I've offended you my lady, I'll never mention it again."

Mel opened her mouth once again to set him straight, to explain that her silence had just been caused by surprise and extreme happiness, when a servant walked into the room. Mel was a very private person and frankly didn't want to have to declare her love for Shevraeth in front of anyone else, even a servant. Shevraeth, however, seemed to be having none of her and asked the servant to escort her back to her rooms. She opened her mouth to protest, but was again cut off with a curt goodnight from Shevraeth who practically shoved her out the door giving her no time to say anything or protest being forced to leave.

"Damn that man!" Mel thought in frustration. Here she was trying to tell him how she felt and he was refusing to let her. It was ironic really how their positions had switched. This time the misunderstanding between them was really his fault, unlike during the war when the misunderstandings had all been her fault. He was also angry at her, if his actions had been any indication, and the position of being eternally angry had definitely been hers during the war. Oh well.
Mel had trouble getting to sleep that night, but when she finally did she slept fitfully. Awaking in the morning Mel was determined to tell Vidanric, yes, it was most definitely Vidanric now, not Shevraeth, how she felt. So she spent the whole day waiting for him in the small memoirs library where he was usually found. He never came. Someone must have told him she was there. Returning to her room, Mel prepared for the ball Geral was throwing for his sister, putting special thought into her dress knowing that Vidanric would be there.

As soon as she reached the party Mel sought out Vidanric and found him tucked into a corner conversing with Russav. She went up and gently laid a hand on his arm, feeling a jolt run up her arm where they were touching. Vidanric tensed and whirled around his hand going to where his sword would have been had he been wearing it.

"No need to panic Shevraeth, I'm unarmed," she said with a smile.

"I apologize most profusely countess for my skittish behavior, but I fear I'm not quite myself tonight."

As he said that Mel caught a look of hurt in his eyes. "Well my lord, you could make it up to me quite easily by granting me a dance."

"Of course my lady, it would be an honor." So they danced, Vidanric didn't say a word and was uncomfortably stiff the entire time.

As the dance drew to a close Mel said, "I wonder if we might have a word in private." "I'm afraid not countess. I must be going," and with that Vidanric walked right out leaving her standing there open mouthed on the verge of tears. She fled through another door. How could love hurt so much? More importantly how could it be so frustrating? She was growing more annoyed by the minute and with her growing annoyance more determined than ever to tell Vidanric how she felt.