"Antonio, that's impossible. I cannot be a. . .a princess!"

He smiled, shaking his head. "And why not? You look almost exactly like the Queen of Palladia- that's your mother- and you're the right age. Hell, you act almost the same as you did when I met you twelve years ago!"

Ro sputtered, trying to remember the little she knew about princesses.

"Don't princesses need to behave a certain way? A way that does not include swinging from vines, sleeping in trees, and having animals for your closest friends?"

"First of all, those aren't natural inclinations. They have to be taught, and you, my dear, have been on an island for the last twelve years."

"We don't know for sure how long." Ro argued, trying not to blush at the fact that Antonio had called her his dear.

Antonio clicked his tongue disapprovingly. "Princesses are not to interrupt, Rosella."

Ro pouted, rolling her eyes. He was rather infuriating.

"Second of all, even when you were getting daily etiquette lessons, Princess Rosella was the type to swing from vines and sleep in trees and have animal companions."

"So, I was a bad princess."

He smirked. "You were entertaining."

"Antonio!"

"You were six! Everyone found you endlessly charming, I know that."

"Even you?"

He turned and gave her that utterly devastating smile of his. "Especially me."

Ro couldn't stop the grin that spread across her face.

"Marry me," Antonio whispered as he leaned closer to her, "you will want for nothing, my parents will be overjoyed that you're alive, and you'll be able to meet your family."

It sounded too good to be true. But then again, the little girl who sat on the beach waiting for her parents to find her wouldn't have hesitated if a handsome prince came and offered everything she'd ever wanted.

So when Antonio's lips touched hers, she didn't hesitate. She tangled her fingers through his hair, she let him pull her closer. She let herself be loved.

Afterwards, communication became much easier. Her worries about royal life or Antonio's family could be silenced by a gentle kiss on her hand or forehead.

They would lay awake at night, her head on his chest while he played with her hair, and she'd ask him question after question about her family.

"How many brothers and sisters do I have?"

"Oh gods, a hundred."

"A hundred?!" she asked incredulously, lifting her head to look up at him.

Antonio raised his eyebrows, then began to chuckle.

"Oh," she said, feeling her cheeks burn, "you were joking."

His arm tightened around her as he smiled softly.

"Six or seven, I believe. Your mother was with child when I met you, and I believe she had another baby a year or so after you. . ."

"Died?"

"Yes, because you're dead, Ro."

"They thought I was. Will they like me?"

He laughs almost disbelievingly.

"How could they not? You're their daughter."

"But will they know? When you tell them who I am, will they believe it?"

His hand, which had been absentmindedly stroking her arm, came up to her cheek. He brought his other hand to the other side of her face, forcing her to meet his eyes.

"I will marry you either way. If we have to elope and become pirates, you will be my wife."

She beamed and leaned forward to kiss him.

"I love you." he whispered, kissing her hairline, and lifting her off of him so he could get out of the bed.

Ro reached out her hands, desperately grasping at his shirt.

"No, don't go. Stay with me."

"I can't stay. You may have been raised on an island, but you are still a princess, and I must behave with decorum."

"But we're getting married!"

He kissed her forehead, her cheek, her neck, her shoulder, kissing all the way down her arm until finally her hand, as if they were at a ball.

"When we are married," he said, "we will never be apart again."

"Could we marry now? Is there someone who could marry us here?"

"We will marry in a church, or a temple of Hera, likely both. But we must do it properly."

"But if we are already having two ceremonies. . ."

"I love you." Antonio said again.

Ro sighed with resignation. "I love you too."

She watched him go with contentment and a feeling of excitement that she'd never experienced before. She wanted more of him, wanted him to always be beside her. It was almost like a disease, the way the more he gave her, the more she wanted from him.

He loved her. He loved her. She had never felt love in a way that consumed her so fully, that made her tingle with anticipation every time she got a second closer to seeing him.

And I get to feel this way forever, she thought.