Lady Riza Hawkeye was a name thrown from mouth to mouth among the castle. A village girl made adviser by recommendation of the prince himself. The current king's adviser was strictly against it. Never had there been a female, let alone a villager to advise the royal family. The role should be given to someone experienced, he suggested. Someone educated.

"Education is nothing to concern yourself with. Her father was a scholar of his own right. She has been well taught by him." Roy told him. "And how is someone to get experience without being tried for it?" No matter the argument, the prince's word was final. Despite the whispers and allegations, that she'd slept her way to his side among other rumors, including wild accusations of witchcraft and sorcery, she was his hand. Riza was his trusted assistant from then on.

The blonde never let the rumors bother her. She'd already heard so many during her first stay in the castle, these were the same, only louder. Whatever was said, however, she followed her prince, idly behind in wherever he went, sure to be there when he needed her. In the times that he didn't, during his fighting lessons, or when he was being fitted for new clothes, she was on the archery field.

"You're quite the shot."

The arrow left her fingers without hesitation, despite the sudden interruption. "Most people simply wonder what a woman is doing here." She commented, turning to the man behind her. He was around Roy's age, though his facial hair aged him a bit in comparison to the princes younger features. He pushed his glasses up before holding out a hand to her.

"Maes Hughes. It's an honor to meet you Lady Hawkeye. I've heard quite a lot about you from the prince."

Firmly, she took his hand. "I wish I could say the same for you, sir."

"I'm a friend of his. A knight, but I don't get assigned to him very often. We tend to get into quite a bit of trouble when left alone for too long." He told her with a laugh. "We've been friends since we were kids. Learned swordsmanship together."

"I see. I didn't see you the last time..."

"I was assigned away." He explained. "But I got letters about the angry woman from the village. He might be smitten with you, my dear." There was a large grin on his face. "Perhaps you'll go from lady to princess one day."

Her only reaction was a roll of her eyes. This man, she assumed, was surely insane. How he made knighthood, she'd never know. "Is there something I can help you with Lord Hughes?"

"Oh no, no. I just came for a bit of practice, myself. I figured I'd get to know the new adviser while I was at it." Instead of an arrow and bow, the man simply stood before a table of knives. "So how did you get so good at shooting?" He asked, picking up a knife carefully. With grace, the blade slipped from his fingers, speeding across to the target, hitting dead center.

"I hunted." She said simply. "I suppose you were taught?"

The knight laughed, smiling at her. "It's not all natural talent, you're right." Another blade left his hand, and another landed near the center of the target. "So what are your plans with the prince?" He asked finally. The smile had faded then, eyes focused solely on the target before him. "What will you be advising?"

So this was what he was after. He wanted to know what devilish plans the woman had up her sleeve. "Exactly what he asked of me. How to lead this country with the support of its people." There was nothing for her to hide. No reason to lie about their goal.

"A king doesn't need support to rule." He stated simply.

"No. But I didn't say to rule. I said to lead."

The final dagger slipped from his fingers, knocking one of the centered weapons before clamoring to the dirt. "Bullseye." He smiled once more, a firm grin as he faced her. "Teach him to lead. Keep pushing him forward. I'm trusting you with him, Lady Hawkeye."

"I'm afraid his health is only declining. My Lord, you need to visit with him, he's your father."

"I know that..." Roy was quiet, weighing his options. His father was dying. There was no avoiding that. Not even Riza knew just how badly his status had fallen. The throne would be calling for him before he was ready, and he'd have lost both his parents on top of that. "I know..." He repeated, as if trying to convince himself.

The prince hadn't been in his father's chambers in weeks. The sight of a man who once held such an air of dignity and strength, lying unshaven and weak in his bed, sent a chill. It reminded him of his mother and how tired she looked near the end. The role of the king would be falling in his lap much sooner than anticipated. Realistically, he knew that. There was no point, he thought, in lying to himself.

"Roy."

His aunt's voice broke him from his thoughts. He turned to her, strength like a mask over his features. "Yes, madam?"

She took his hand gently in her own. "I'll go in with you, if you'd like."

It was the same offer as when he was a child. And just as before, he declined. "I'm okay."

The door seemed to slam loudly shut behind him, despite how gently he'd pushed it. The deathly silence in the room was broken by his footsteps across the floor. "How are you feeling, Father?"

There was a tired laugh from the pile of blankets. Roy stepped closer, finally seeing the dying king hidden among them. "A little tired is all. They say I'll get some rest soon." He said simply. Again, there was no reason to beat around the bush.

The prince took a seat at his father's side. "I don't know if I'm ready."

A cold hand covered his. "I wasn't when I took the throne. And I think I did alright." Roy didn't want to disagree. His father was unfair, and harsh, however the kingdom, he'd admit, was prosperous. "You will learn in your own way, just as you did to find your adviser"

"You've heard about that..." Roy looked away, for the first time nervous of another's opinion on the matter.

"The whole castle has heard." The king laughed gently. "It's an odd choice. You could have kept the current adviser, or chosen from any scholar in the kingdom. Why her? The woman you were given three years ago, right?"

Roy nodded. "Because she is different. We are a strong country, and the nobles are loyal to the thrown, but not our people. Our farmers and craftsmen, we need their support as well."

There was a tired smile on the man's face as his son spoke. "She's got you under her thumb." Roy wanted to argue, but his father cut him off. "You're the one who is different. You care about lives most find insignificant. You always have." He patted the prince's hand before bringing his own back to his side. "I'm trusting you with our country. Do you trust her?"

"I do. She represents more of this country than any nobleman."

"Then I'll trust your decision." He took a deep breath. "It will be difficult for both of you when you fall in love with her." He warned. The idea had been tossed around in the rumors, always brushed off by both Roy and his aid. Coming from his father, however...

"In love?" There was a fever that rushed to the prince's cheeks. "I don't..."

"Not yet, maybe. But I'm not worried. After all, your mother lead me better than any other. Hopefully you can find the same faith in her."

"But I... she..." Roy was speechless. It was true that the blonde was beautiful, and he cared deeply for her. He never wanted to let her go before, and was grateful for each moment with her since she'd returned. But did that mean he'd fall in love with her?

"Whatever happens, Roy, you have my blessing."

Roy swallowed his embarrassment in that moment, nodding. "Thank you, father." Riza was simply his adviser, he told himself, but his father's blessing was appreciated nonetheless.

Over an hour passed between the two of them. They reminisced about his mother and his childhood—the fits he pitched, his firs achievements and anything else they could think of. As his father began to doze off, his heart sank. Roy watched his chest rise and fall, as if already anticipating his last breath.

Finally satisfied, convinced his father would life through another night, he stood, late for his meeting with Lady Hawkeye, he was sure.

His feet moved slowly down the hall, heart sinking with each step. "Sorry I'm late, milady." He greeted, a small smile on his face.

"I met a friend of yours today." She was turned away from him, glancing over the paperwork on his desk. "He is an odd man named Maes Hughes. He...My lord?"

Roy wasn't aware of any expression on his face that could have given himself away. Not a single tear had fallen, but as she turned to him her face fell. "My father is dying." He said it aloud. What no one was willing to voice so plainly fell from his lips with a heavy breath.

She didn't like his father. He knew that. Riza saw him as cruel and brutish. He never anticipated any sympathy. However, she was never one to act in a way that he could ever anticipate. He felt her hand on his cheek and his eyes widened. "I'm so sorry, Roy."

His name. She was not Lady Hawkeye in that moment. As he wrapped his arms around her waist, burying his face in her neck, she was Riza. His friend. And he'd done exactly as his father warned him. He'd fallen in love with her.