The night is a dangerous time to have your mind wander alone. Kris was all too aware of that, and yet still she stood in the center of her room, shaking as she fought a battle against herself.

Her liege was like a ghost that continued to haunt her, never letting her go, never letting her thoughts be free from him. She did not fear him, but she was terrified of how he, and anyone else, might react once they knew of her less-than-pure emotions towards her charge.

She wished it was nothing more than just simple lust. Perhaps if it was only a desire for the flesh, then with time it would have faded.

But it wasn't. Time has passed, and her passion for the prince had only grown since then. She could not take a glimpse at him without her heart jumping erratically as if she was about to die. She could not think of him without her throat choking up in both awe and grief of her own situation. One look in his eyes, and Kris had to make a mental strain to pull herself out from them in order to bumble out some coherent answer and run away. She must look strange to others, she realized.

She can't keep on living like this, torturing herself with his presence. She feared for the day when she snaps and loses all self control, and thus ruin her Liege's reputation.

Besides, surely he does not reciprocate your feelings! She scolded herself.

It didn't stop her from imagining his lips, most likely soft, pressing against her own. It didn't stop her from remembering those times when he would smile his heart-warming, soft smile at her and praise her. It didn't stop her from remembering his deft fingers, personally caring for her wounds and imagining those same fingers running through all the parts of her essence that no other person even knows of.

A pleasurable ghost indeed, Marth is.

If she continued on her duty like this... she could not fulfill it at all. She needed to resign, have someone more capable to guard him.

Yes. She needed to leave, as soon as possible. Maybe she can go back to Sera Village, or perhaps travel the world... anywhere where Marth cannot reach her, anywhere where, with time, maybe she can forget him and her love for him.

At the same time, a large part of her screams that she should never even dare to forget.

She doesn't know which part of herself to listen to.

She squeezed her eyes shut, trying so hard to think of something else, someone else, but the visage of the Altean prince kept on creeping back into her mind, invading every thought and corner of her consciousness.

Kris choked back a sob, the straining in her heart proving to be too much to bear. She knelt onto the floor, keeling over, her tears free, her cries not.

"Dear gods, why can't I love another man? Why did it have to be him- -soul-wrenching, heart-catching him?!" She prayed. The gods didn't answer.

Every good memory of Marth bit back at a bitter taste; every bad memory with Marth… seemed to not exist. Tried as she might, there seemed to be no way to rid of her emotions for him, no way to make him just her friend, her king, her liege.

She didn't hear the knocking on the door, but it seemed that the person on the other end heard her. She didn't hear the door open, didn't hear Katarina characteristic soft, small footsteps. However, she did feel her tiny arms wrap around her, patting her back. This only elicited more sobbing from her as her good friend quietly closed the door behind her.

"Kris, what's wrong?" she asked softly. Kris didn't answer, only holding her as her tears stained her clothes. "Who wronged you, Kris?" Again, no answer.

Katarina had the sense to not ask any further and simply held her good friend. It almost frightened her to see such a fearless knight to suddenly cry.

"It's not fair," she managed to choke out when her cries morphed into infrequent, loud hiccups. "It's not fair," she repeated.

"What is?" the other asked, continuing to stroke her back, as if that could possibly solve all of Kris' problems.

She pursed her lips, looking as if she was holding back something that needed to be said.

"You can tell me anything," she whispered, touching foreheads with her. "You know that, and I won't utter a word to anyone else."

"I know, I know… I know… I know…" She sniffled and hiccupped, kneeling on the floor and leaning against Katarina. Enough time passed in the silence of breaths and the aftermaths of a good cry that the moonlight from the window passed from the two figures as shadows fell over them.

"I love Marth," she confessed to her.

"Go on," she encouraged with no hint of vile, disgust, or disappointment in her voice.

"I… I love him. I love the way he can lead the people; I love the way her hair is so soft and silky even after he has gone through too much in his life; I love how he tells me things of himself only Caeda and him and I know of; I love… I love everything about him." There it was, her sinful confession, admitting of her forbidden love towards someone who really at most should be only her best friend.

"I'm not quite sure what to say," Katarina began slowly, carefully. Kris stiffened in her hold, which only made her panic more, but she forced herself to stay calm. "But I'll support you, every step of the way. I'm smart, remember? I'll help you solve things out; I'll help guide you in the best way, for you and for Marth," she finished, reassuring her.

There was another stretch of silence before Kris spoke again. "I want to run away. I know desertion is punishable with death but… I can't be a proper knight like this. I can't properly protect Marth like this, not when I am jealous of the love that he and Caeda can share that I can never have. I… I can run for a bit, and then I'll rejoin the army as a regular soldier. I'll dye my hair, maybe, fight with lances instead…" Everyone and their grandmother knew that she was lying to herself, that she was simply fantasizing and being delusional.

"No, Kris, you can't do that. Everyone will be devastated, especially Marth, and he would stop at nothing to find you," Katarina reasoned.

"But-"

"And it's better if you can stay here and have a chance to personally serve and protect our liege than not have a chance at all, Kris. You just need to be brave and march through this. You took an oath, Kris, and you're never the person to go against your own word, right?"

Kris gave a small nod.

"And I'm here if you need a shoulder to lean on. We can go through this together, okay?" She smiled for her, propping her back up to a proper sitting position.

"Yes. Thank you, Katarina, and-"

"Don't apologize, please. We're friends. This is what friends do." She kept on smiling and pushed Kris to the direction of the bed. "Now, get to sleep. We wouldn't want Marth fussing over why you're looking so tired in the morning, okay?" She paused for a moment, and continued. "I think that would be the first step. Maybe there's no need to rely on Marth for so much, alright?"

She nodded again. In her bed, with now blankets draped over her, her eyes red… she looked so vulnerable, so human like this.

"You'll be fine, Kris. You'll see."

"Sir Kris, if I may."

The knight looked behind her and saw Caeda a bit of a ways off, beckoning her to follow. She turned back and smiled apologetically at the cadets. "Apologies, it seems that the Queen needs to see me for a few moments. You may take a small break for now." Immediately, they all simultaneously took a huge sigh of relief. If Sir Cain's training regimes were grueling, then Sir Kris' were hellish!

"You needed me?" She asked her Majesty once they were out of earshot.

"No, no, I just have a small question. It may come off as quite strange but…" She trailed off, having a strange expression that she couldn't quite read. It made Kris a bit uneasy seeing it.

"But…?"

"Do you love Marth?"

The question took Kris off-guard, and it took all she had not to let her clenching heart take control of her actions, her emotions, her words.

"He's just a man. A charge. He is faceless, his voice just like any other," Katarina had said.

She chose her words carefully, knowing the lie she needed to tell would tear her apart, as always.

"Of course I love his Majesty, as how any knight would love her liege."

A/N:

Sorry for dying for the past... year? I typed this up with only nine fully-functioning fingers as an acceptable apology. Paronychia sucks.