Loved the reviews, and can't wait to see what y'all think about this one.

Will update again soon, depending on the reviews for this chapter :)

Thanks for reading!

August, 1567

Elena soon found that her days inside of the Salvatore castle differentiated little from the days inside of her own home in Mystic.

The tutors she'd had since she was a little girl came by three times a week for her class studies.

And when she wasn't taking lessons in Literature or Arithmetic, she was studying with her newer lady's maids, bought for her specifically for their knowledge of womanhood.

She learned the duties required of a wife, especially as the wife of a king, and much more.

But she didn't care about any of it.

Three weeks had passed, and the only thing different about her life was the scenery.

She'd hoped that marriage would be the adventure she felt she'd been waiting her entire life for.

But Stefan, in what little she'd seen of him, was everything expected of an heir to the throne.

Mature, responsible, unavailable...

Unfortunately, learning to run not just Aurelia, but Mystic as well, kept him plenty busy.

And her, plenty bored.

She'd taken to reading in her free time.

The palace had a grand library, one to rival her own back home, and she'd been allowed full access to it.

She could choose any book she liked, and she would often curl up next to the fire place and lose herself in the hour.

Occasionally, she'd take the books outside, to the jungle of a garden in the palace's backyard.

Two guards stood watch at the gates, so she felt plenty safe, roaming through the various trees, flowers, and other greenery.

She'd discovered a bench, during her first week, made of cast iron, and painted white.

It was positioned under a great oak tree, and the shade was a welcoming relief in the summer sun.

She sat there now, with Emily, trying to finish the latest novel that had taken her interest, but kept finding herself distracted.

The day was warm, but breezy, beautiful in all aspects, yet she could not find it joyous.

The doubts that plagued her were too strong.

Was she really going to surrender her life over to this negotiation?

Was it wrong to want a husband that loved her, not whom was simply kind?

Stefan didn't seem to mind it.

But then, Stefan was everything he was told to be.

She blushed as her thoughts turned to his older brother.

There had to be a reason Stefan was the next heir, instead of Damon.

By law, Damon should be successor to the throne, unless he'd denied his birthright.

She wondered if she'd ever find out why.

The king never mentioned him, nor had Stefan.

Had it not been for that small encounter, she wouldn't even know of his existence.

Odd for a prince, she noted, especially one of such...quality.

Her cheeks burned as she remembered Damon's lips on her hand, and how, for a fleeting moment, she'd wondered how they'd feel against her mouth.

She perished the thought quickly though, scolding her mind for it's lack of discipline.

There was no use in wasting time on such whims.

She straightened her book, trying to focus, but was soon interrupted again.

This time by the loud whine of a horse, and the pounding of hooves on the ground.

"Easy!" She heard a male voice cry out, "Steady her!"

"Tighten the rope!"

"Watch it!"

"She's a mean one, sire!"

Curious, Elena stood, peaking around the back of the garden's fence, to the stables across the way.

A few of the king's stable hands were trying to calm an enormous black mare, who was rearing in protest, thrashing around.

To her surprise, she spotted Damon, holding the lead.

"Emily," Elena called, and the girl was by her side instantly, "Take my things back to my room, please."

She handed her the book, and the bonnet she'd adorned, "I'll be up in a while."

Emily courtesied, then left her to her own.

Elena smiled, making her way from the garden.

"Move her forward," Damon was instructing one of the men, as Elena slowly approached.

The four males wrestled with the beast, but to no avail, as she kicked out.

"She's bloody mad!" One of them cursed, dodging a hoof.

It was a struggle, but finally, the horse was stalled, and the men smiled in satisfaction.

"That's quite an animal," Elena announced her presence, and each head turned.

Damon was the only one who didn't lower his head in courtesy.

Instead, he smirked at her, before telling the men, "Leave us. You've earned your rest, today."

They thanked him and bowed to her once more, before taking leave.

Then Elena found herself alone with the eldest Salvatore prince, the neighs of the mare lingering in the air.

"I wouldn't expect to find you in a place so diluted," he teased.

She smiled, "And I was beginning to doubt you even existed."

He raised his arms, "Well, as you can see, I do."

She shook her head, "A first born prince who isn't taking the throne, and now a horse wrangler. You're a man of many mysteries."

He rose a brow, "This coming from a Princess who's willing to spend her life with the likes of Stefan, yet is so bored, she's taken to poking fun at the wayward prince in dirty stables."

She narrowed her eyes, "Don't be conceded. It was this beauty that grabbed my attention, not the prospect of insulting you."

She stepped closer to the horse, "Is she yours?"

"She will be, if I manage to train her properly."

"She's beautiful."

"Yes, she is," he agreed, "I have an appreciation for all things beautiful."

His words were of the horse, but Elena didn't miss the way his eyes roamed over her.

She straightened, "I don't suppose you'll tell me why Stefan takes the throne instead of you?"

Damon laughed, motioning for her to follow him back outside, "You are a curious one."

They walked and she smiled, "Well as you mentioned, I get a little bored. So I would ask favor of entertainment."

Damon sighed, "I'm afraid it's not the story you care to hear."

"Let me decide that," she urged.

Damon stopped as they neared the garden's gate.

"You haven't asked your fiance?"

She blushed, "Stefan stays rather busy. He doesn't have time for stories."

Or me, she added mentally.

Damon's eyes filled with pity, as if he heard her unspoken complaint.

"Come," he instructed, offering an arm, "I will tell you."

They strolled into the garden as Damon began to explain.

"My father blames me for the death of my mother. I was often sick as a child, and she tried everything to heal me. When she finally managed, she had nothing left to heal herself, and fell pray to the fever."

Elena swallowed, "I am sorry, truly."

Damon shrugged, "I was never fit to be king. My father wants a puppet on a string, and Stefan is exactly that. I wasn't."

Elena eyed him, "It seems a harsh reason to lose your birthright."

Damon chuckled, "Perhaps. But, I have found that being royal is much like being that untamed mare. If you can't be broken and trained, you are of no use. You can't run a country unless you are willing to chomp a bit."

She considered this, "And you aren't?"

A smirk teased his lips as he stopped at the very bench she'd occupied earlier, "I prefer freedom."

"And duty? That means nothing to you?" She challenged.

"Why should it?" He pressed, "My family has casted me aside. Why should I care for a country that believes me dead? No, I much prefer staying in the shadows."

She sat down, "It seems lonely."

He held her gaze, "No lonelier than the life you are being forced into."

She set her jaw, "You presume an awful lot."

That made him smile, "You're quick to grow angry with me."

"No," she corrected, "I'm annoyed that you seem to think that doing as you are expected means unhappiness."

"Doesn't it?" He asked.

"Not at all."

His lips pursed, as he pulled her to her feet.

"So you are telling me that you'll go through with our fathers' arrangement, and be satisfied? That you'll never have regrets or second thoughts about what your life could have been?"

She swallowed, "No."

"You're lying," he smirked.

"Or I'm not," she huffed, walking away from him to keep herself from saying something in anger.

However, Damon followed her along the path, falling into step.

"I apologize if I've upset you."

She laughed without humor, "I'm beginning to think you have another personality! You speak whatever is on your mind, then wish to apologize because it was rash. Things do not work that way."

She could tell he was smiling, as they followed the maze of the garden.

"Elena, wait."

His hand grasped hers, pulling her body to a stop.

She took a breath before facing him.

His eyes were bright.

"I didn't mean offence. You must understand. I interact very little with people of our station. Most of my dealings are with commoners, or servants. I speak my mind because I've never had to worry for my words. I do not mean to be rash. Just truthful."

His face fell into a pout as he silently asked her forgiveness, and her resolve crumbled.

"Oh, all right. But those of us with proper etiquette require a bit more sense in conversation."

He smiled, "Then I shall work on it."

She couldn't help but notice the beauty of his face when he promised such, and her heart jolted.

It also didn't help that he was standing so terribly close.

A heat, that had nothing to do with the sun, overcame her, and she dropped his hand, taking a step back.

"Yes well, see to it that you do."

Then with the last of her dignity, she turned, leaving him watching her, as she left the gardens.

So, a little fluffiness after the intensity of the last chapter.

Hope you guys liked it!

The story is moving along faster than I thought lol, and for those of you that enjoy the "M" stuff, expect some lemony goodness soon ;)