A/N: Holy camels, Kat didn't wait six months to upload a new chapter? The world must be ending. At least you may find some entertainment here before the apocalypse. (I actually wrote this right after chapter 8, but I let it simmer for a little while and did some editing until I liked it better.)

Remember

Something in the Prince's face was perhaps less shocked than it might have been. I pressed his hand where it lay frozen in mine. "I'm sorry I had to deceive you. I couldn't let anyone know that you had captured a princess."

He waved dismissively and continued staring me. "May I?" he asked, gesturing toward my veil. I nodded and he removed it with an odd sense of reverence, looking at me with awe. "It is you." Then he began to laugh – an eerily slow, absurd laugh. "Of course, I knew it was you. It had to be you. But I thought it was too wonderful to be true. And… I knew you would never believe me anyway." His head dropped suddenly.

I placed my finger under his chin and raised his gaze to mine, concerned at the sorrow apparent there. "What's the matter?"

He shook his head. "I already tried once. There's no use."

"Tried what? I don't understand, Prince."

"Farah…" Half a smile played with his lips before a look of pain crossed his features. "No." His voice was firmer now. "It's in the past."

Very well. "I don't know what is troubling you, but there's something I wish to speak with you about." Now that the time had finally come, I found the words heavy and clumsy in my mouth. It had been so long since he had told me his magical tales… goodness, over a year now. "Some time ago," I began, "Last September." I shivered as the hazy memories from those peculiar days and nights floated through my mind.

The Prince's eyes were wide. "Yes?"

"You told me some strange things," I said hesitantly. "At first, I didn't believe you."

"The Sands of Time," he whispered, eagerly grasping my hands.

"Your stories…" My heart thumped. I felt like an excited child. "Were they true?"

He nodded solemnly. "Every word."

"Then why can't I remember?" I cried. It was unfair. "I have only bits and pieces, fleeting images in my dreams, while you retained the whole of it."

"I held the dagger, so I controlled time when I reversed it," he explained.

"You never should have disturbed the Sands. My family kept them safe for thousands of years before you—"

"I don't need to be lectured, Farah," the Prince snapped. "I know all too well the consequences. I lived them."

"As did I," I countered. "Or so you say." I sighed. "It's no use. I still dream of sand as if it's this great vague event. It's like having a word – no, a whole book – eternally on the tip of your tongue without ever being able to remember and speak it. At most I can see a few blurry pages. It's unbearably frustrating."

"I'm sorry," he said. "I would have taken you with me if I could."

Poor Prince. He had been much younger then; I could see that now. I squeezed his hand. "We're safe now. I just wish I could remember it like you do."

He murmured, "There is much I wish for."

I shifted uncomfortably, glad he wasn't meeting my gaze. "And you promise you didn't make any of it up?"

He nodded.

"Then we really did…"

A small smile. "Yes."

I looked down, embarrassed. "I'm an engaged woman."

"Not anymore," he reminded me gently.

Tears began to well in my eyes again. Our wedding would have been next month; it was no wonder Halim had given up hope. "Do you think it's too late?"

"Too late for…"

"To marry him, of course." I glanced at him suspiciously.

"Oh… of course. Her—your—fiancé has already moved out of the palace and declared a life of bachelorhood. He claims not to trust flighty youth any longer."

"That's not fair," I protested. "I could be dead, or kidnapped."

He shook his head. "Princesses don't just disappear without any explanation or ransom note unless it's of their own accord."

"I left a note," I offered.

"Oh yes, the note – a hopelessly vague little thing that served only to fuel the rumours that she had eloped with a romantic young nobody." He gave me a look that meant, I should have known better.

"I hadn't intended to be away for very long; I only wanted to speak with you and sort myself out."

"And have you?"

"Well, yes, I suppose I have." What else was there to be said?

The Prince was quiet for a minute before asking, "What will we tell them when you return?"

I sighed. "Right now it seems the best idea would be to go along with the elopement story and tell them it didn't work out."

"And we kind Persians saved you when you got lost on the way back home?"

"Sounds fine to me." Except for the part where I was left without a husband.

The Prince placed his hand on my shoulder. "I'm sorry about your marriage."

Even as guilt washed over me, I whispered, "I didn't really love him."

He respectfully said nothing; I could only imagine his thoughts.

"But it would have been a good life," I explained, tears finally escaping. "I know I would have been happy and secure. It's how things should have been. I've always been told that. And now I've ruined everything." My head fell onto his shoulder, wetting his tunic.

"Now, that's not true," he said. "There are plenty of men who will want to marry a nineteen-year-old princess."

"I'll be twenty next month," I said through sobs. "My country needs an heir."

"Nineteen, twenty – the point is, you're a beautiful young woman and any man would be lucky to be in Halim's place."

"You really think so?" I sniffed, looking up at the Prince through matted hair. I must have looked awful: a dignified noblewoman reduced to a tear-streaked heap. But just then, with his compassionate face above mine, I didn't care. I suppose that's why I let him kiss me.

Before I realized what was happening, his hand was caressing my neck, slipping down to touch… my amulet?

And that's when it happened. I remembered kissing him, in a golden pool in dream-lit caverns. I remembered the touch of his fingers amazingly gentle on my skin. I remembered how heavy his sword was when I took it while he slept, and how powerful I felt with the Dagger of Time in my hand. I remembered the miracle of time reversing at my command. I remembered running out of sand and trying desperately just to hold up the Prince's sword as a grotesque monster loomed above me. I remembered hanging onto the Dagger for my life as the Prince fought them off around me. I remembered him screaming my name. I remembered fear, blood, kakolukia, falling – and no more.

I gasped and broke free of the Prince. He clutched my shoulders, alarmed. "I'm sorry! What's wrong?"

"You mean you didn't feel that?"

"Feel what? Farah, what happened?"

"I… remembered," I said shakily, before collapsing into his arms.

The Prince let me rest in his bed a while until the lingering dizziness wore off. Crouched beside me, he asked anxiously, "What was it like?"

"It was like a dream, only so much more real. I really lived those past few hours. How long were we…?"

"No more than a few seconds." He grew excited. "I wonder if you could remember more."

"I think that's enough of the past for now," I grimaced.

The excitement vanished from his voice: "Are you alright?"

"Yes. Just a little uneasy." As I laid back and closed my eyes, I felt him reach out and tentatively stroke my hair. He was really rather sweet, for a self-important prince.

I opened my eyes, fingering the chain of my amulet. "Maybe we could try again."

"I would like that," he said, delight shining in his eyes and voice. He truly had loved me once. Joining me on his bed, he reached to touch the precious link to the Sands. I swallowed and tried to brace for whatever might happen.