A/N: I actually have 8 chapters of this done on my AO3 and Tumblr. I'll be posting them here soon. I do want some reviews if possible, though. Let me know what you think of the story~! Thanks!

The young prince propped himself up on his bed, finally convinced the unwanted captive had given up on her dangerous attempts at escaping for the night. His new 'gift,' so to speak, sat on the floor where he left her, keeping his distance while holding a mirror to examine the bruising on his jaw. "I'm going to have to figure out how to hide this by morning..."

A huff came from the blonde as she curled her knees up, propping her arms loosely on top of them as she avoided looking at the other in the room. "Hate for the kingdom to know you got punched by a peasant woman?" She muttered.

"I'd hate for a young woman to be beheaded because of a bruise." He corrected. His words held no venom in them, though he hoped, eventually, the young lady would come to find him as less despicable than other noblemen. With a sigh, he went to his feet, grabbing a pillow and the throw blanket at the end of the bed. "I'll get you suitable living quarters tomorrow. For now this will have to do."

She reached over for the bedding, only for him to pull away. "What? Do I have to say please?"

Roy laughed gently. "No. This is for me. You take the bed. You're a lady, after all, you deserve better than a lounge." He shook his head, amused at her ferocity as he laid the pillow out on the chaise. "Although telling me your name would definitely be appreciated."

The blonde stood, stepping away from him quietly as she made her way to the bed. He'd already proven that arguing did nothing. Besides, the idea of sleeping in a nice bed was appealing... What did it matter to her what discomfort came to the prince, after all? "Being free would also be appreciated." She mumbled. She lifted a leg, attempting to climb onto the bed before placing it back down. She let out a deep breath before trying once more, only to fall into the seat he'd found her in before. "I can't get in the bed..."

He'd only just laid his jacket over the wardrobe when he turned, watching her dance beside his bed before giving up. "Is it... too tall?" He questioned, the answer suddenly dawning on him as she looked back to him. "You can't really move in all that, can you?" He nodded to her clothing, the ruffled skirt, the tight corset, the layers upon layers that most likely weighed her down from truly lifting herself onto the bed.

"It's not a big deal."

He turned his head, scratching his neck gently. "I would call a maid in here to assist but, well... it's supposed to be my job to do such things today. Calling someone in would... well rumors could be the death of us..."

"Of me." She corrected. "The death of me, you mean."

He wanted to deny the claim, but it was more true than he was willing to admit aloud. "Let me help. Only out of the bodice and skirt."

She had enough layers beneath the bindings to hide her body, though it would still be considered unseemly to be found in such a state with a man. "I'll hurt you if you try to go further." She muttered, submitting if for no other reason than to get some well deserved sleep.

Roy nodded, stepping over to her as she turned away. He could see the goosebumps rise on her neck as his hands went to help her from her gown. Each garment was laid carefully on the bed to their side, the petticoat and the farthingale soon joining the outer gown. What she was able to remove herself, he allowed her, not wanting to feel any more of her body than she was comfortable with allowing. At last they were to the bodice, the most binding of all she'd worn that night. Moreso than the ropes on her wrists or ankles, than the way they'd tied her up before dropping her to her knees on the palace floor, the strings pulled tightly behind her, sealing the boning of the contraption against her skin, forcing her bones into a shape they were never meant for, was the worst of all cages.

Her high neck smock hid her body from him, a realization he was glad for. The situation was uncomfortable enough as it was, especially for the woman he'd been assisting. Had she been in a lower smock, she'd have been revealing her collarbone and shoulder blades to him or the length of her leg where her stockings might have been held by garters beneath the lower hem.

With each inch that was loosened from the bodice, he felt her ribs expand, lungs filling with air more with each breath. He'd always held pity for women who found it necessary to dress so painfully, wondering what was appealing about the idea of seeing a young lady faint from breathlessness due to fashion. As he slid the bodice gently over her shoulders, he watched her body relax slightly. "Thank you..."

Roy couldn't help the small smile as he picked up the pile of garments from the bed. "You're welcome." He said simply, numerous witty comments playing through his mind, though he refrained, for now. "Will you be able to sleep?"

As he turned to her, her hands were on her sides, gently rubbing as if to count if any of her ribs were broken. It wouldn't have been unheard of, especially if it had been her first time in a corset. Nevertheless, she nodded, still looking away from him. "I can sleep on the lounge. Now that I'm not in that... mess of a contraption you people call fashion."

A warm laugh left his lips. "With as badly as you're hurting after that 'mess of a contraption' was peeled from your bones, I think you deserve the bed." The young prince turned down the lamp, watching as she climbed into the bed before he settled himself on the chaise. As much as she was one to argue when it came to his chivalry, she gave in when it came to her comfort, it seemed. Or perhaps she was finally realizing that he would keep the distance he'd promised, and she had nothing to fear from him.

Trust wasn't something he expected to gain. Not that night or any other. If she could at least feel safe, however, instead of feeling like a trapped bird, it would be enough for him. "I'm sorry." His voice came from the corner of the room, his form hidden in the dimly lit room.

"I thought you said you didn't ask for this." The woman replied, her voice as gentle as his for once. "What do you have to be sorry for?"

"I'm sorry you were stolen from your home. I'm sorry you were given to me like an object one could place value upon. I'm sorry for many things."

"You can't be sorry for the problems the world has, Prince. Sorry won't fix them. And I wasn't stolen. I was bought for you." She corrected. "So at least that's a little guilt off your shoulders."

"Bought? You were a servant?"

"I was a daughter." She replied. "A daughter of an apothecary with large dreams and little funds. Taxes came due and past due. When it came to losing our home, his research, and his lab, he chose to lose me instead." With a bitter laugh she added. "I'm the same value as a house, my lord. I'm quite the gift."

His words were spoken around a frown, his expression heard in his voice. "You are much higher value. Humans... humans are not valued as things. No matter the ground on which they stand. Upon dirt or marble. Grass or stone. There is no cost high enough to be placed upon their heads, milady."

Whether the shock on her face was true, or a trick of the dying light, he might have never known. Her voice was quiet as she turned, almost muffled by the sound of the bedding as it shifted. "Riza."

"I'm sorry?"

"My name. It's Riza Hawkeye."

The young prince smiled at that. "I've earned your name. Does that mean I have your trust and respect to go along with it?"

"Only the name. It was the least I could do after having you undress me." There was a gentle laugh in her voice, quiet enough to have been missed if not for the way it caused the male's chest to clench. "You told me I wasn't yours... whose am I?" She asked, the smile in her words fading. "Who must I pay or appease for my freedom?"

Roy laid his dark head back, resting his hands over his chest. "You are your own." He answered simply. "I'm going to get you out of here as soon as I can. As soon as I know you will be safe upon your leave. Please, miss Riza, be patient with me until then. I will get you your own living quarters. I will have them dress you as you deem appropriate. I will make this a life you can be content with at the very least. All I ask is that you are patient with me. I will set you free. I promise."

The light of the lamp finally died out as the room went quiet. There was nothing more to be said. He wasn't sure if she'd trust his word. She was true before, what reason was there to trust him? Sure, he'd behaved thus far, but it wouldn't be unheard of for men to be so cunning as to trick women in such a way as to play the game as a kind heart, only to leave a broken soul upon the game's end.

He hoped she'd hold him to that promise. Keep him at his word. He would do the best he could for her, just as he would as king. If he couldn't save a single girl from himself, what hope did he have for his own country?