Before I forget, I've heard from others in the fandom that don't believe Howard and Dulcet would make a good couple because of age difference. I do, however, recall that in Gregor the Overlander, she was described as about fifteen years old. Does this help?

PART THREE

This was the letter that greeted Howard as he sat to lunch:

"Howard,

I request your assistance in the hospital wing towards the late day. We are expanding some of the medical wings and relocating a number of doctors and patients. Queen Luxa and I immediately thought of you. Send my best to your mother and siblings.

York"

"A flier dropped it off while you were with Chim," Hero said as the siblings settled down to eat. "Who is it from?"

"Father," Howard said, still glancing over York's block-like penmanship.

"What does he say?" Kent asked.

"He sends his best to all of us," Howard said as he set down the letter and looked to four curious faces. "And he wishes me to go to the hospital near late day."

"Oh, must we go?" Stellovet asked. The last time she'd been in a hospital, her blood seemed to drain out of her and amass on the floor with the blood of the dead and wounded.

"It is only me that Father wishes to come," Howard said gently, but Stellovet still looked uneasy. "Will you all be well without me?"

"Of course, Howard," Hero said. "But what are we to do to pass the time?"

"There are always the nibbler pups to attend to. Or there is Hazard, or the nursery. But, seeing as Stellovet is going to be minding you, perhaps you should ask her."

"I have no plans," Stellovet said. "Discuss it amongst yourselves, and then we will see."

The twins and Chim spent the rest of the meal in conversation—or rather, debate. But still, they were distracted enough to not ask why Howard had grinned slightly at Stellovet. It was only that she had sounded very much like an elder child just then.

"I believe I will go to the medical wing early," Howard announced after the meal was complete. "Will you all behave for Stellovet?"

"Perhaps not for Stellovet," Hero said, "but we will behave while Stellovet is watching over us."

"Close enough," Howard said as he rolled his eyes. He mouthed "good luck" to Stellovet, and left the apartments.

What was odd was, he had left with such vigor, but once he was out he lost all sense of purpose. He had slid York's letter into his belt, and now took it out and reread it as he ambled through the corridor. York had never given him a specific time, so Howard could easily pass a few moments on a walk.

His first thought was to return to the stairs that Chim had fallen down, simply because it was one of the rawest memories in his mind. But instead he persuaded himself to return to the large balcony the one where he had found Gregor with a dislocated rib. The one where he and Pandora had liked to go.

Howard knew he should not go to a place where so much had happened. But nearly every inch of this palace retained some sort of sentimental value, and besides, his siblings never agreed to go to the balcony. They never appreciated what a view it held, and never held still long enough for Howard to point out all they could see from there. They never understood that if Howard sat on the edge, closed his eyes, and remained very still, he felt like he was flying on Pandora again.

Howard's head snapped to look behind him. A rustle, as soft as a flier's wing, had echoed just a moment ago. Now, only silence and empty space.

He turned around again and walked, a little slower this time. This palace was filled with delegates, royalty, servants, refugees, soldiers, bonds, and who knew what else, all constantly travelling, moving, and doing. So whoever was here, why would he or she not simply appear and get on with his or her duties? This wing was not as frequented as others, but that should be no reason to—

There! Howard's entire body spun around as the rustle sounded once more. And yet no one appeared. However, there were several doorways, and giant stone pots dotted the walls sporadically. Perfect hiding places.

Howard walked once more, but did not bother to turn his body around. So he was facing completely backwards to see the foot that slid out hesitantly from behind one of the stone pots.

"Stop," Howard said so that it echoed. "Let me see you."

The foot paused, and then slid further out until a body separated itself from the pot—Dulcet.

"Have you been following me?" Howard asked.

Dulcet's entire face turned pink. "Only for the last hallway or two. I would have liked to have made my presence known, but the right moment never arrived, and you seemed very peaceful."

"I would not have minded if you had interrupted me," Howard said. He paused and then hastened to add, "I only do not want to think that worse things are following me."

"What sort of things would you think to be worse? The one thing I could imagine would be your siblings, but you seem to handle them so well."

Howard remembered Dulcet's profession and realized that this must be a sort of compliment. His cheeks heated up. "They can be a handful, but they are not the reason I have gone on my own. It is actually—wait. Why are you on your own as well?" He hesitated to mention her following him.

"I confess, I have less endurance than you do on some occasions," Dulcet said with a sheepish smile. "I entrusted the young ones to a friend of mine, and decided that I needed to take a walk."

Howard nodded his head in sympathy, and found himself taking a few steps towards her until she was right in front of him. Height-wise, he had her by three or four inches, which seemed to increase as she lowered her eyes and shied away.

"What is it?" he asked.

"It is only that…you speak to me as if I am a sibling, or perhaps even a friend. But as you are a visitor, and a respected son of a respected leader at that. I am essentially your servant." She emitted a soft sigh on the last word.

"But why would I want to think of you as a servant? You were there for Chim when I was not, and you went on to bring joy to the rest of my siblings. And so you are my friend."

Dulcet paused, and then looked up at him and smiled. "Thank you, Howard of the Fount."

"I am Howard."

"I am sorry. I thought I had said that."

"Yes, but my name is simply Howard, with nothing else added. Like you are simply Dulcet."

"Very well. Howard."

At that moment, Stellovet's voice echoed in his head: "You are beginning to fall in love with that nanny." He took a second look (or a more thorough one, considering that he had never looked away) at Dulcet's eyes. They were listening eyes, wide and reflective and open to him. Perhaps he liked them—alright, he certainly did—but he remembered the questions Luxa had asked about sacrificing and wanting. He still wasn't sure how to answer those.

"You are not going anywhere in particular, Howard?"

"No—I mean, yes." He gestured to his belt, with the letter in it. "My father sent me a note asking me to meet him in the hospital wing."

"Oh! Is he well? You must go see him if he is there, I should not have kept you—"

"No, no, he is fine." Howard chuckled. "He and Queen Luxa are going to make some additions and rearrangements, and they wish me to help." But despite his assurance, a trace of fear haunted Dulcet's face, two worry lines near her eyes that Howard hadn't quite noticed until they were all that remained of her concern. "Really, it is nothing. What troubles you?"

"Oh. It is of little matter. A memory has only occurred to me, nothing more," she said weakly.

"May I ask what memory it is?"

Dulcet looked around at the hallway, which now had a few passerby because lunch was being served for them. Howard caught on. "May I show you a balcony a few paces from here? It is small, but I enjoy the view it offers."

"I would like that." Dulcet smiled, but her mind appeared to be far away until she and Howard turned a corner and there was Regalia, nestled in a large cavern for her to look over. The pinpricks of torchlight throughout the city's surface reflected in her eyes, and she took a step forward. "Oh…"

"Now you see why I enjoy it," Howard said with a grin. He took a seat on the stone wall rimming the balcony and leaned against the wall. He had to admit to himself that just this once, Dulcet's reaction had more of his attention than the city itself did. He tried not to say anything, but his curiosity must have been evident when she turned to him to point out what she had seen from her perch.

She let out a breath and sat in front of him. "I once received a note, as you did, instructing me to see my father in the hospital wing. He was a soldier, but I was a child, so I did not expect that he could be harmed. He did not expect so either; he thought that the Garden of Hesperides would be an easy win."

Howard hissed in a breath.

"Exactly." Dulcet nodded. "He was one of the few that General Hamnet could rescue from the gnawers. But a gnawer had clawed him awfully while trying to keep afloat, and he had too many punctures and too much blood lost for the doctors to do anything. They had many others to treat, so they sent for me and told me to watch over him. This was my first job, my first memory, and the first time I saw death."

Howard struggled to think of something to say. Even as a doctor, grief was not something he handled as well as he would like. "…I am sorry, Dulcet."

To his surprise, Dulcet suppressed a smile. "It is fine. I only think that, looking back, the situation was more about parenting and taking care of others, which is my line of work now. You see, the gnawer that clawed my father so horribly was not only trying to keep herself afloat, but her pups as well. And then as my father lay in the hospital, he fought so hard to keep his eyes open. It reminded me of what my mother must have done, when she died after my birth. And now I fight each day to ignore the fact that I have no parents, and I try to have the children think that I am like a parent. So that flood at the Garden of Hesperides nearly set my fate."

"I can still apologize. Orphans are not uncommon, but stories like that still deserve sympathy."

"And what of the other stories of loss? Surely everyone has had someone they love die. Perhaps even you."

Howard paused, and he looked at his hands. "I have lost Pandora, my bond. And then the Overlanders…they are as good as dead now."

"I am sorry." She put a hand on his knee as if her hand was a feather, because she feared the gesture to be unwelcome. "That was cruel of me to suggest the topic. I should have known you have surely lost someone after your adventures."

Howard's hand crept over hers. "It was the past."

"And besides, we may rest assured knowing those lost have loved us."

She said it offhandedly, but Howard had cause for suspicion because of the way her hand twitched underneath his and the way her eyes focused on the floor.

"What do you mean?" Howard asked.

Dulcet smiled sadly. "You are not the only one who has received a message today." She pulled out a slip of parchment folded over and over itself. Eyeing it in her outstretched hand, Howard took it and unfolded a letter that appeared to contain someone's entire life on it from how worn it was.

"My dearest Dulcet,

If this letter reaches your hands today, either you have consented to be my bride, or I am no longer with you. I have never flattered myself to be good with words, and so should one of these occasions befall us, there will be more to consider than the words I shall now attempt to pen.

From the day I first met you, I have loved you. Though you think of yourself as nothing but a servant, I see you as a guardian, like myself. And yet you put passion and heart into your work and your life, and so you stand out like a light in a pitch black cave. This light shines in your skin, your hair, your eyes—but it softens so that men like I can gaze upon you and wonder what it would be like to have you await me when I come home.

I think constantly each day on how to convey this love I feel towards you. My assignment to protect the warrior brings me closer to you than I could ever have imagined. But why do I not speak? You are gentle and patient, and as you speak, warmth blankets the room. Place it upon my own character. I am but one man, and cannot speak to one as fair as you.

If I have somehow overcome myself by the time this letter falls under your gaze, I ask you to be mine. I am but one man, but I will do my best to be everything you ask for. I will shelter you, and love you for each day and for the rest of our lives.

If I have deceased, however, know that I always have loved you, until my last breath done. I wish you only the best in your life, and my sole regret will be to not be present as you enjoy what life brings you.

With my heart,

Horatio"

Howard sat very still as he read it, and then for a minute afterwards. This…this was what love was. Horatio (Horatio!) had described it to the minute detail, had covered everything that made Dulcet who she was, and conveyed his need to have her for those traits.

It frightened Howard. His heart knew the very same thing.

"His family found the letter as they looked through his leftover possessions," Dulcet said quietly as Howard scanned through the letter once more. "Is it not odd how he has died two weeks ago, and yet his love reaches me just now?"

"Odd," Howard echoed. He felt faint. Horatio was right, completely right, or so said a small part of him.

"What do you think of it?" Dulcet asked. She bit her lip.

"I…would like to know what you think, first," Howard concluded. He could not begin to worry until he knew what she felt when she read this.

"I suppose that it was very sweet of him to write this. It was a good way for him to express himself when he felt so limited otherwise."

"That could not really be what you thought."

Dulcet giggled. "What would you expect me to say?"

"Dulcet, this man—who no one has expected to have a brain, let alone a heart—has poured his soul onto a piece of parchment for you." Suddenly Howard's voice sounded higher. "The least you could do is answer whether or not you love him in return!"

Dulcet paused. "Very well. I do not."

"Why not?"

"Horatio is sweet, but when I knew him before this letter, he was just a soldier with his eyes on his task. I could not love someone who has not shown his love to me before he tried something like this."

Howard's lungs felt as if a boulder had fallen on him. "So…someone has shown his love to you?"

Dulcet quirked half a smile at him. He felt hot. "Yes, someone has."

"So soon after you learned of Horatio's love? Would you turn down this other person in the same day?"

"…I do not think I would. He seems to have more in his mind than work or war. He remembers people."

"But he must work, must he not?"

"Oh, yes. He helps the queen, and he is halfway to being a doctor."

The weight of the boulder compressing Howard's lungs doubled.

"You do not mind that he is the caretaker of his family? You do not mind his status or his memories that he cannot rid himself of?"

Dulcet smiled, and something in her eye glinted: something subtle and yet powerful in its form. "I do not mind," she said. And she leaned in towards his lips.

Howard flew out of his seat and backed further into the balcony. Dulcet froze, and then turned to face him with wide, curious eyes.

"I am sorry," Howard said, "but I do."

His Adam's apple bobbed as Dulcet looked over him and stood up. He took a step back.

"What is wrong, Howard?" she asked.

"I…I cannot do this. I am sorry."

"Why not? After Chim's accident, and the day you spent with me at the nursery, I thought…"

"I thought so as well. But then Stellovet was afraid, and Luxa tried to bring Gregor back, and Father called me, and Horatio…" Howard shook his head. "I am confused."

"As am I."

"No, I mean that I am confused about you. I do not think I can be what you think I am. I do not even know if I want to be like that. I think it would help me more if we thought of each other as friends. I could be myself then."

He held her gaze, and felt his shoulders slump when she folded her arms and said, "That is not right."

"Why would that not be right?"

"You are always yourself. What is your real reason?"

"…Do you remember that I said Stellovet is afraid? She is afraid because if I wed and leave her, she will have to take responsibility for our siblings. She is with them now, and I am certain she is praying for me to return so that she will not be blamed if the younger ones came to harm. And then Father and Luxa expect my help as they rebuild Regalia, and Mother expects me to raise my siblings when she cannot…so I have too many duties to others to consider a relationship like this. I hope you understand."

Dulcet shook her head. "I understand, but I do not believe that is your true reason. I have heard your tales, and so I know that duty is not always a priority to you. What of when you returned to Regalia instead of staying with the warrior?"

"Gregor was prepared to fight me, and Mareth was severely wounded—"

"I will ask you once more, Howard," Dulcet said steadily and looked into his eyes, "why you will not allow me to love you."

Howard took a breath and thought. It was not his family or his duties. It was not Dulcet or her expectations. He reflected on how, as Dulcet got closer to naming her as her love, his chest constricted almost until he was seeing spots. He'd grown warmer. His heart had raced. If his heart or mind remained lost, his instincts explained everything.

"I am afraid," he said quietly. "I cannot give myself away, no matter how many times my life has been on the line. And so I am afraid that you will steal my heart more than you have already."

Dulcet said nothing. She still kept her arms folded, but it now looked like she was nursing a wound. Howard looked away from her violet eyes and to the edge of the balcony, where Horatio's letter lay unfolded and wrinkled. A current of wind brushed up at that moment, and swept the piece of parchment up and over the rooftops of Regalia. Neither Howard nor Dulcet moved to stop it.

Dulcet sighed and stepped towards Howard. The gleam in her eye had vanished.

"I understand," she said. "This makes sense to me, rest assured. And I am sorry, both for me and for you.

"I realize you must meet with your father and cousin," she added. "But if I may offer you a small token?"

Howard nodded once. And so, with the tip of her toes and a little grace, Dulcet kissed Howard softly but sweetly on the lips.

She got off of her toes and looked at him with wide, solemn eyes. "I have wanted to do that from the moment I saw you run after your sister," she said. "But I believe it is you who needed it more than me."

She turned and walked back into the palace, with her footsteps echoing on every stone step. Part of Howard wanted to run, or call her name, or do anything. But the most he could do was sit down in the middle of the balcony, where the edge hid all the city lights, and try to hold onto the sweetest taste his mouth had ever had.

To see the inspiration for the title and overall theme of this chapter, go to youtube and type in "the hardest part coldplay". I'd suggest a concert version, myself. And despite a less-than-pleasing ending, I wish you all a happy Valentines Day.