"A month."

The dark haired man turned his eyes from his desk to the blonde in the room. He'd been so caught up with the papers on his desk that he hadn't even heard the woman enter. "A month?"

"That's how long you've kept me here." She explained. Despite the conversation, she never turned to him. Instead, she did her duties as his maid; changing the bedding and collecting the dishes from the most recent meal he'd enjoyed at his desk. "You told me you'd let me go."

Roy laid his quill down gently, sighing tiredly. The duties of a prince, it seemed, piled higher each day. He'd stop enjoying the company of others in the dining hall for dinner, and instead chose to retreate to his room. He'd made a promise, however, and she'd been patient. The murmurs about the newcomer in the prince's chambers had died down after a week or so, but his worries, as well as his other duties, kept him from following through on his word.

"You're right." Pushing himself from the desk, he stretched his stiff muscles, cracking his knuckles. "I'll get you out of here. I'm sorry it's taken so long."

The way her brown eyes widened told him she didn't expect him to follow through so easily. A pang of guilt shot through him for losinghimself so deeply in his work that he'd left her to clean his messes and she'd waited patiently for him to release her. "Tomorrow." He told her. "I'll take you back to your village or anywhere else if you prefer.

"With the right company guarding me, you can slip away unnoticed, and you will be free. So where is it you'd like to go, Miss Riza?"

Her new name, Elizabeth, was used by everyone but him. He'd explained the importance to her of keeping under the title until her freedom. No one would search for her by a name they did not know, after all. Roy, however, never seemed able to stick to the rule unless under prying eyes and listening ears. In private, she was Miss Riza, and she'd never once corrected him.

"Home." She answered, simply. "I need to check on my father."

His dark eyes narrowed, a mixture of confusion and something else, almost like anger, flickered through them. "Your father who sold you. Who is the reason you're here in the first place."

"The only father I have." She answered, simply. She turned away once again, focusing on her duties as chambermaid. "Though it doesn't seem like this was the worst place he could have sold me to."

"But it could have been." He mumbled. "You could have been taken by the knights. They would have used you and never let you go."

"But I wasn't. If I'm not mistaken, it was you who made sure that didn't happen. And for that, I'm grateful. However, there is no poing in being angry about what could have happened."

There was an unprincely huff that came from the male. "What if he sells you again? Or someone comes to take you back?"

"Then I'll be sold or I'll come back." She told him. "Coming back here would be the least of my problems. I have to admit, cleaning up after a spoiled prince in exchange for hot meals, a warm bed, and access to a bath is a pretty nice deal." She laughed. It was a rare sound to his ears, but it was just infectious enough to rid the male of the angry look on his face, only to be replaced by a soft expression of concern.

"If it's not that bad then why don't you just stay?" The question came out quietly, a half-hearted request he didn't consider before it slipped from his lips.

Riza frowned. He wasn't entirely sure how to read her expression. Disappointment, perhaps? "Because he's my father."

Her answer didn't sit well with him. Instead of complaining further, however, he simply turned back to his work. "Tomorrow." He repeated, the softness in his voice replaced by an almost cold formality. "I'll take you home."

"Thank you, my lord."

The way she addressed him made him wince, but he said nothing, hearing her exit the room as his quill scratched along paper.

"You look tired." The blonde greeted, following alongside the prince on the way to the stables.

She wasn't wrong. After an early breakfast with a side of scolding from his father, not to mention the late night worries for the other's safety, his eyes were shadowed with fatigue. "I'm fine." He told her, "Thank you for your concern, Elizabeth." Outside his chambers, even seemingly alone, he reminded himself of the name to use. "Can you ride?"

She nodded, stepping into the stable. "Though coming back with a riderless horse will draw attention, won't it?"

"I won't be coming back with one." He commented simply. "She will be yours." He lifted a saddle onto a brown house, a white diamond of fur decorated her face. "Her name is Lieutenant. She's a good horse. Though, not my personal one. She's one of many unclaimed extra horses, but she deserves the attention of a kind owner."

"Thank you." He expected an argument, but was gratefully surprised. "I'll treat her well."

"Thank you."

"Your highness!" A young boy, shocked and disheveled, dropped pails of feed to his side, almost toppling to the side before he caught them, bowing deeply. "Your highness, I'm sorry. I prepared Colonel, I wasn't aware you wished to take another for your ride this afternoon." The stableboy bowed once more, shoveling the small bit of food from the ground back into the pail from which it fell.

"You weren't mistaken." Roy corrected. "Don't worry. I was only bringing Lieutenant along for miss Elizabeth."

"I could've-"

"I'm perfectly capable of saddling a horse. Thank you." He chuckled gently. "The others are ready for the lunch you brought them, though. Continue where you left off." Roy nodded respectfully in passing as he led the mare from the stables, his guest following beside him.

Only one of Roy's guards joined them. A stocky male with a face more serious than his nature rode to the prince's side. According to Roy, he was aware of the purpose of their day trip, but without any guard at all, the entire army would be on the hunt for the runaway royalty. Even in the company of his friend, however, she was still Elizabeth.

Once outside the city, the men allowed Riza to take the lead. "Do you know the way from here?" The prince asked. "I doubt you had the chance to look around on your way in."

She nodded. "I've traveled to the city before." She answered. "You don't need to follow along from here. Thank you."

There was almost a sad smile that painted itself on Roy's lips. "What kind of hero would I be if I didn't see you home safely, my damsel in distress?" He teased, half-heartedly.

Riza chuckled gently. "What kind of damsel in distress punches her hero on the day they first meet?"

"My favorite kind." He admitted. "Thank you for putting me in my place, but please let me escort you a bit further."

There was a deep breath drawn, the faintest of colors distracting the young prince as they spread across the woman's cheeks. "Fine." She said. "A bit further."

There was a small smile on the guards lips, but not a word was said as they went. It was a omstly quiet trip, the three of them only breaking the silence for offhanded comments about the weather and the crops they'd passed. Roy kept his cloak, a plain dark brown fabric, pulled over his head, stating it was to protect his porcelain skin, though Hans, the young guard, corrected that it was to draw less attention. A couple of hours after their exit from the city, they saw a bustling village before them.

"That's it." She told them. "Thank you, again, for the escort."

Roy bowed his head, Hans following suit behind him. The prince reached over from his horse, a black stallion, and scratched the mare behind her ear gently. "Treat her well, Lieutenant."

The blonde smiled. "I will do the same for her. Though I can't promise it will live up to a royal stable."

With a small smile he shook his head. "She's a simple horse. The love and attention is all she needs. Royalty was just where she was placed." Roy heard the fading steps of Hans' horse as he trotted back, giving the two of them the privacy for a proper farewell. "Thank you for being patient with me. And thank you for your time, Miss Riza."

"It wasn't as though it was given by choice." She commented. It might've been meant as a joke, the prince wasn't sure, but she continued. "Thank you for giving my time back. And thank you for making the time pass... pleasantly. Perhaps too quickly as pleasant as it was."

"You can always come back." He almost pleaded. He wasn't even sure why his voice sounded so desperate. In the month they'd met, they'd spent a few nights alone, talking about where she grew up, the life he lived as a child, sometimes simple things like how their day had went when they were trying to keep suspicions low. They'd never spoken too deeply, however. They'd never gotten so close that he should want more, but perhaps that was his regret, after all.

"You know that's not true."

"I don't."

"You don't want to." She said, firmly. "You don't want to believe this is goodbye, but it is. Thank you for a month I'll never forget. It was a the best gift I never asked for. And thank you for bringing me back home."

"Thank you..." He mumbled. He wasn't sure what he was thankful for, but it didn't feel right not to say it. "Thank you, Miss Riza."

She didn't ask why, perhaps she knew what he didn't. "Goodbye, Roy."

As she rode away, he couldn't help but wonder if he should have been different. Should he have kept her? Should he have never let her go? His name fell from her lips leaving more excitement in him than the fine silk placed before him at twelve-years-old, and more pain than when he'd first fallen from his horse at eight. How bitter it was that he'd never hear that sound again. All because he let her go.

His world felt colder without her. He couldn't figure out if it was that cold before she was brought to him, or if she'd simply left it colder than she'd found it.

With a deep breath, the prince lifted his head, turning to his guard, nodding quietly before they began their journey back.

Three years time was all it took for the forever that wedged between them to come to an end. In three years time, she'd be back at his feet, hair how past her shoulders, eyes as fierce as he'd first seen, and his skin warmed once more in her presence.