Chapter Four.

I miss her most terribly. Sometimes, it hits me so hard, I can hardly breathe and I don't know what to do with myself. How have I been so badly caught by one girl? By my cousin? A lady completely off limits?

It's so irresponsible of me. I should never have done what I did. Look at the mess it's got me in now. Now I'm having to watch my step- me! I'm having to be wary, be deceptive. That's not me and I don't like it. Hopefully- however horrible this sounds- it'll fade and be forgotten over the years I don't see her.

Or speak to her. I still haven't gotten the courage to write to her. I can't even pretend to myself that there's another reason for my behaviour; I know at every angle it's because I'm scared of her rejection. Silly, isn't it? How many women have I been with in the past and how many actual battles have I fought (I've been to war, Mithros' Spear!) and I'm shaken by my cousin. A spit of a girl. Okay, an Empress.

Perhaps I should speak to someone about it. I mean, I can't be the only one to be missing her, and it's normal for me to be feeling that way even without what we did. She was my cousin, and we spent a lot of time together when she was here. Perhaps Roald? He'd understand and he'd be kind. So long as he didn't find out. He would castrate me himself if he discovered what I'd done to his sister. Gods, I swear he loves her more than anyone else.

No, I can't talk to Roald. It would be too awkward with my secret in between us, filling all the little silences. Everything unsaid.

There is no-one I can talk to. I will struggle in silence, it is the best way. You do not make yourself vulnerable that way.

Faleron closed his journal and was careful to hide it in a locked box in the darkest corner beneath his bed. One of his younger sisters- Joslyn- had discovered it once and she had teased him relentlessly about it. Although he could easily stand the mocking, he didn't want her- or anyone else- reading what was written in there now. Secrets were too powerful; he was meticulously careful about how he worded his thoughts in case someone did discover the book.

To suffer in silence was never best, and Faleron knew that really. For a flushed moment he considered riding to see Fallon. He had often shared his secrets with her- his older sister- when they were young. She had the same watchful quiet as their mother, picking up on all the words that were never muttered. She would be good to talk to; he hadn't seen her in so long.

But no; the moment passed. She was different now and they had grown apart. She was married with children and running a busy household. Plus- like Mother- she stuck too close to tradition; if he let it slip what he had done with Kalasin, the Royal Princess… Faleron shuddered to think of his sister's reaction.

An idea struck him. Oh, it was a brilliant idea. He would write a letter to Kalasin- telling her everything- all how he felt, how he missed her, how he worried about her, alone in a big realm far from home. But he wouldn't send it. He would burn it and hopefully lay a rest to his ridiculous carryings on.

Pleased with himself, Faleron pulled a fresh sheet of paper towards him and began. It was hard at first, but got easier as he went on, and soon the words were fairly flowing out of him. How often he had thought about writing this letter and somehow, because he knew she would never actually read it, it was so much easier to write. Even before he had finished he could feel the weight lifting off his shoulders, the easing in his body.

The time flew, and so did his pen across the parchment. When he was done, he read it over proudly. Wanting to do this properly, he sealed it with the black wax near at hand, stamping it shut with the King's Reach seal. This was setting the seal on this fraught chapter of his life.

He addressed it: Empress Kalasin.

And then he sat there, fingering the rectangle of folded parchment. It was hard now to make the final step- to throw it in the fire and say that final goodbye. He knew it was the final goodbye. After this, she would trouble him no more and he would never write to her properly.

He should just do it. Quickly. Taking a deep breath, he stood up-

'Faleron!'

He jumped. Gods bless, he was tense all of a sudden! He cleared his throat, shaking a little.

'I'm in here,' he called back. It was his sister Joslyn that was shouting for him. He heard pattering footsteps and the door opened. His sister leaned through the doorway, hanging onto the door handle, smiling.

'Hello, Fal. What are you doing holed up in here? Mother wants you. A letter has come for you and I think it's from the palace.'

'Thank you, Joslyn.'

The young lady frowned. 'Are you well, Faleron?'

'Yes, yes, I'm fine thank you.' He put the letter down on the desk, distractedly, and smoothed down his hair and shirt.

'Mother's in the parlour.'

'Very well, I'll go to her now.'

Joslyn held the door open for her brother and together they began to walk to the parlour. She was enthusiastically curious as to why he had a letter from the palace, and his thoughts were full of similar speculation too.

The letter he had wrote lay on his desk, forgotten.

---