A/N: Here's a little romance for you.

Responses:

Nyght Musique: I'm happy I found my flash drive too, lol! Over one-hundred-fifty fanfictions (whether they're posted or not) are on that thing, not to mention school work! Sheesh… and want to know something pathetic? I had on me during the two-week interval that it was missing. It was in my cash-purse thing.

Simply pathetic.

Bingo7: Oh, yes! I already have an evil plot bunny stealing my strawberries (see bottom) … er thoughts! I think it's a cute couple. I suppose Renold is like her shadow, in many cases. He follows her everywhere and takes her rebukes (see later in the chapter) et cetera.

He's a little like my awesome older brother.

See, that's the thing. My brother can be a pain in the arse, but, since I entered high school, he's been nice to me and (some would call it "over") -protective.

AphroditeIncarnate: I didn't really put him in until I decided Mercy needed a bodyguard, being eighteen and all. My brother was annoying when I was littler too. As soon as I hit high school, though, he became a really nice, protective older brother. (shrug). I don't think German is hard. Personally, I think French is harder than German. Again, (shrug). It depends on context. Because if you are referencing verbs, they are naturally "to go", meaning you don't need zu. But, if you're talking about going TO bed, you need zu.

Piratess of Summer: (sigh). Did you get my PM? Anyways, I'm happy I found my flash drive too!

Enjoy this taste of romance sprinkled on thoughts.

Chapter 12: Thoughts

"Your Highness," Renold Smithson had greeted the next morning after meeting his mistress.

"Good Morning, Smithson." She smiled. The little eight-year-old would easily be a court jewel. She turned down the hallway and he trailed her, watching the whole surroundings like he'd been taught during fighting. He was tensed, ready to spring… Princess Mercy stopped and her guard very nearly fell over her. She laughed. "You are not like the other guards, do you know that?"

Other than the fact that I'm far too young for this sort of thing? He muttered to himself. "Is that a compliment or a criticism, Your Highness?"

"Compliment, Smithson – may I call you Renold?" She turned and looked up into his eyes.

"Of course, Your Highness," The guard said carefully. What game is she up to now? "You need not ask."

She smiled again. He noticed she smiled easily. "I feel the need. You are still a human being."

Renold nodded. "Thank you, Your Highness."

"I think this is the start of a long friendship, Renold Smithson." Mercy kept walking.

- - - - - - - - - -

"Tell Her Highness Princess Hannah of Bavar that I will meet her in the stables at two bells before noon." Marcus ordered Thomas, his guard. "Also tell her she must bring Finny along." Thomas nodded and ran off.

Today. Today was a fine day. Sure, last night was beautiful, Hannah dancing with him after dinner, but today. Today she'd see his hunting skills, many times better since the last time she was in Hanor. Perfected to that of the great golden cats she spoke of in her southern plains.

Today was definitely a fine day.

At nine bells, Marcus was restlessly pacing his room in hunting gear. He was very irritated. Why did time seem to move slower when he most wanted something?

He heard the bell tower toll.

Nine bells, fifteen minutes.

He paced nervously. He tried to write, but his nerves were on edge and he couldn't stop pacing.

He heard the bell tower toll.

Nine bells, half past.

He tried to sit and relax in a chair by window and gaze at the mountainous scenery.

He heard the bell tower toll.

Nine bells, forty-five minutes.

He couldn't stand it. Irritated with how slow it was all going, he walked out to the stables to get the horses prepared to be ridden and warmed up.

Hannah was there, smiling.

"How long have you been there?" He asked after placing a chaste kiss on her cheek.

The dark southerner smiled. "Only ten minutes." She laughed at his expression. "You are such a darling, dear Marcus." She held his hand and patted it. "It was so funny to see you pace in front of that window."

"I was amusing you?" He muttered and they went over the spare horses.

"May I ride Winter's Chill?" Hannah asked with a smile.

"Winter's Chill is not mine to loan." Marcus replied carefully. "He is Renold Smithson's."

Hannah's face fell as she brushed past the dappled horse. "Her?"

"Eiber." He whispered. "Eiber is the winning draft horse from last year's games." The horse was sturdy and a good line was through him. "We want hunting horses, not plow-pullers." They continued onto two thin, but sturdy horses.

They were agile, Marcus explained to Hannah. And bred for the forests of northern Hanor to brave the dangerous cold, but still be able to dodge the trees blanketed in ice and snow.

"Wow." Hannah whispered touching the black horse's nose. "You are such a beauty."

"Southern Heart." Marcus whispered to her, wrapping his arms around her waist. "A good mare if ever there was one."

The princess turned in the circle of his arms to face him. "Is that hint?" She murmured placing a hand on his weathered cheeks. "Are you going to tell me that Southern Heart also had a lot of good foals as well?"

Marcus nuzzled her nose. "I was going to tell you later."

Hannah's arms wrapped around his neck and she kissed his cheek. "How much later?"

Marcus' lips found Hannah's. The proper princess' emotions, normally wound so tightly even she had trouble getting herself excited, overwhelmed her and she allowed Marcus to continue.

Someone coughed.

"Finny." Marcus muttered hoarsely and the two royals separated. The prince turned and saw Thomas next to his love's guard. "And hello Thomas."

"Your Highness," Finny said, carefully choosing his words. "I think Her Highness should stay here."

Marcus' eyes narrowed. "Are you objecting to my decision, Dfelt?" The irritated prince turned to Thomas, "And you Miller?"

"I have no objections, Your Highness." Thomas said. "Finny's concern is valid, however."

Hannah sighed next to Marcus. "They are right, Marcus. I should stay here, you go hunting."

He grabbed her hand. "Dflet, Miller, saddle up. We are still going hunting. I do not want to hear any more on this."

"Yes, Your Highness," Both guards said, knowing they would probably get reprimanded for doubting a royal's command. Then again, neither wanted to be blamed if something went wrong.

- - - - - - - - - -

Renold waited outside Mercy's room. She was getting ready for the breakfast-luncheon at eleven bells.

It was ten currently.

Finny and Thomas had stopped by to tell him where they'd be going, and why. Renold had convinced Finny to at least present a protest to the silliness of taking Her Highness on a hunting trip. Alone.

Renold pulled out a carving. It was of a lady, dressed in furs and silks, gown flowing from her waist to flare out near her toes. It was trimmed in furs, like the northern style, and the shoulders were covered with a small shawl also trimmed in fur. The woman's hair was pulled back, allowing only a few strands of hair to escape; droplets of diamonds on a tiara topped her hair.

Her face hadn't been carved yet. There were light markings where he'd planned on making a face for the lady, but never had gotten it just the way he thought it should look.

After all, shouldn't a finely dressed lady have a fine face?

Before he knew it, he was slowly peeling away the layers of wood to carve out eyes. Mercy's door opened and he wrapped up the figurine in a layer of cotton and slipped it into a pocket.

Normally, he would have heard her turning the knob, but he'd been so engrossed in carving, he hadn't even thought to split his attention between the carving and his ears.

"What were you doing?" Mercy's voice startled him, as she rarely spoke to him since he'd brought her back from her most recent tirade.

"Just a little carving." The guard said without thinking about to whom exactly he was speaking. As if to make the lax comment slip off his shoulders, Renold straightened to begin following his mistress.

"Can I see it?" Her jade eyes took him by surprise.

Suddenly, his insides were gripped by terror. How much did she see? He surely didn't want her seeing his fantasy woman.

"Yes, Your Highness." He slipped his hand into a separate pocket, the block of wood he only carved when there were other people around. It was a simple puppy, much like Mercy's Flora.

"Is it Flora?" She immediately recognized the markings. "She is beautiful."

Renold nodded. "Thank you, Your Highness." He wrapped up the dog and slipped it back into its pocket.

"May I see it again when you have finished her?" Mercy's eyes were pleading him to say yes.

"Yes, Your Highness."

Her eyes turned cold. "Yes, yes, of course. How could you refuse?" She muttered darkly. He shook his head after she had turned away. "I think we shall go riding after the luncheon again."

"Your Highness-" Renold started.

"We are going riding, Smithson." She interrupted.

"That is not exactly what I was going to say." He persisted. "Only that it looks like rain, and I wanted-"

"To warn me to wear waterproof things this time?"

Why was she so aggravated right now? Renold was confused. She'd been in a good enough mood when she'd exited the room today, but now, after a scant minute conversation her expression had soured against him.

Why?

- - - - - - - - - -

Why am I so grumpy? Mercy wondered. Is it because I saw Marcus and Hannah leave? Renold took her rebukes stoically, never raising his voice or looking angry. He's too good for me. She told herself. I need someone who'll lash out against me once in a while.

Then again, isn't he the reason I'm still alive? Shouldn't I be grateful?

So then, why am I so grumpy?

She started walking to the informal dining room to begin the luncheon with her parents and some advisors.

I wonder… Mercy whispered to herself as she heard Renold walking. No. She told herself. He's just a commoner.

Just a commoner? Part of her whispered.

Just a commoner. An insignificant commoner. A guard. A man. A lover… He mind kept outrunning her logic. She never could keep track of it all.

One of these days her thoughts would slip out and make a fool of herself.

"Your Highness?" Renold asked.

Was she speaking aloud? "N – nothing, Renold, thank you." She checked her throat to make sure she wasn't.

She wasn't, thank God.

How embarrassing if Renold had overheard her thoughts about him.

Immediately, a thought of her far-too-handsome guard popped into her head. She felt her insides first clench at the picture, wondering how in God's name she had seduced herself into imagining these pictures, then, it all didn't seem so bad.

A random thought filled her head. I wonder if his lips are soft…

- - - - - - - - - -

(see bottom): seriously, I DO grow them, and the bunnies DO steal them…

Anyways, please take ten seconds of your time to review this story. I love to see even, "I love this story!" reviews, it makes me feel good because I know you're taking time away from reading other stories to tell me I'm appreciated and that I should continue this story into its finality.

Remember this: About 90 percent of my stories never make onto this site. Another 2 percent never get finished. 3 percent I end up ending early because no one reviews them. 5 percent I push to get finished so I don't have a million unfinished stories on my profile.

Remember that.

If you love this story, and want it to continue until its Epilogue, tell me by dropping even a short review.

Thank you so much for reading this story.

Nixie

P.S. – Thank you every single reviewer who has reviewed this and any of my stories.


Another note: Is it plagiarism to post the original fairy tale, as long as I note that it isn't mine, so you all can see the original?