WE'LL TAKE CONTROL OF THE WORLD LIKE IT'S ALL WE HAVE TO HOLD ONTO.
On the road from Corus to the Great Southern Desert, Jonathan didn't talk much. His mind was consumed with thoughts of proposing to Alanna. The idea had been floating around for a few months, but he'd never really thought of it with any conviction. She didn't want love or marriage – that was abundantly clear. And he wasn't really sure if she would make the best queen, which was, unfortunately, something he had to take into account. He did know he loved her, and she loved him. But maybe that wasn't enough.
Myles was smart enough not to ask what he was thinking about. Both men were perfectly willing to ride in silence. Jonathan had questions, but he wasn't sure he wanted to hear the answers. Questions about what kind of queen Alanna would make, questions about what Myles though the reception would be… Many in at the palace were still adjusting to the idea of Alanna being female. Jonathan thought that bringing her home as his bride-to-be might give some of the older nobles heart attacks.
Meanwhile, Alanna had no idea he was coming. But he wasn't alone in his thoughts of marriage. She'd been busy, but the subconscious was a powerful thing. Sometimes, she dreamed of marrying Jonathan, and even allowed herself to consider what their future might be like, should they continue their romance. Much as she claimed to hate love and marriage, some part of her wanted to be married. She wanted to settle down, have a family… raise little lady knights… whether Jonathan was That Man or not, it was what she wanted, one day in the future. Jonathan would make a good father, and a great king. The question remained: would she make a good queen? She had a suspicion the answer to that question was a resounding "no."
"Do you want to surprise her?" Myles surprised Jonathan by asking one day, when they figured they were about halfway. Neither had written her any letters since beginning the trip. He'd never considered surprising her, but he'd been so wrapped up in his own head that he'd forgotten all about writing, even back to Corus.
"I suppose." Jonathan shrugged. "It's up to you. I haven't written anything." Myles nodded. He'd noticed that the young man had been quiet. Jonathan wasn't outgoing, but he wasn't normally this introverted either. Something was clearly on his mind. "I don't think she's going anywhere."
"So we'll surprise her then," he said. Jonathan nodded slowly, not really paying attention. He hoped Alanna wasn't going anywhere. How embarrassing it would be to ride in and find out she was off on some new grand adventure!
Alanna sat in a tent, talking to Ali Mukhtab when he told her visitors were coming. She looked puzzled. It was far too late for visitors. They exited the tent, and there, surrounded by subtly gawking members of the Bloody Hawk tribe, stood Sir Myles of Olau and… Prince Jonathan of Conté. She took in his blue eyes, dark hair, breeches, royal blue tunic… her eyes slid over every inch of him, taking it all in. She found it hard to swallow, and felt her heart beat faster.
"Hello Alanna," he said with a smile. "It's nice to see you too."
She shook her head and smiled brightly. "Hello! Welcome!" She winced slightly. To her own ears, her normally boyish voice sounded too high, too eager. What was it about Jonathan that turned her into such a gods-cursed girl? It was inappropriate for her to touch them, so they greeted each other somewhat awkwardly. When the proper arrangements were made, Alanna returned to her tent. Shortly thereafter, Jonathan poked his head in. "Can I come in?"
She nodded, not trusting herself to speak. Then they stood across from each other. Too far apart. Jonathan longed to step forward just a few steps and take her into his arms. But it had been months since they'd last seen each other. Things might have changed. "Hello. Again," he said finally, smoothing his hands down his thighs to keep them busy. "You look well."
"So do you." She tucked her copper hair behind her ears. "Did you have a pleasant trip?"
Who were these two people, having such a stilted conversation? These were not the best friends of eight, almost nine years. These were not the people who had gone to death and back together. These two people acted more like strangers than two lovers reuniting! But these two people were not just lovers. They were the heir to the throne and the Court's biggest scandal. And so they stood there, looking at each other, unsure of what to do.