A/N: Prof-shader blackmailed me into this chapter! She said she wouldn't post another chapter of her Ah-Mazing fic "Professor Ceedric", which I'm obsessed with (!), if I didn't post the next chapter of Free.

7.

Sofia found him sitting by the fire with a large book open in his lap. As she got closer she realized it was the treatise on representative government she'd been reading before she left for Enchancia.

"How on earth did you manage to get your hands on this? I thought Freezenberg had strict censorship laws."

"I know a woman who knows a man who knows a man who knows a man." She answered with a small smile on her lips. "Besides, it seems you can sneak just about anything in if you put it between stacks of fashion magazines.

"Of course, the only proper reading for a Princess." He sneered, his disgust for royalty and nobility, and the way they seemed to wallow in their own ignorance, apparent.

"Well, what good is a woman if she doesn't look pretty and know the latest scone recipes?"

He snorted, closing the book and replacing it on the small table next to the chair.

"Still you shouldn't leave it out for anyone to see."

Sofia raised her eyebrow at his over protective tone, but her smile remained as she took the chair opposite him.

"It's not out for just anyone to see, it's in my home, behind my doors, where anyone who comes is invited by me."

"Like the Duke?"

"Touché," she grumbled.

"Freddie is worried about him."

Before she could answer, Underhill appeared carrying a tray laden with tea things and a single letter. Her steward was ever efficient and discrete, having been trained and sent to her by Baileywick himself. Once the tea was served he bowed politely and made his way out, but before closing the doors he caught her eye and made a slight jerking motion with his head, indicating the letter.

When they were alone again Sofia picked it up, noticing it had arrived yesterday. Underhill must have been holding it all this time. Why?

"That's good, I'm worried about him too." Sofia broke the seal on the envelope with a fingernail.

"He seems to think the Duke is over stepping his bounds."

Unfurling the single sheaf of paper, Sofia read the few lines contained within.

"I would say so." She answered slowly, feeling a sick sort of vertigo as all the pieces fell into place.

How had Alex phrased it? He'd said they would make an unconquerable match. He always was one for sprinkling his lies with seeds of truth.

"His purpose in coming today was to propose marriage."

Caught off guard, Cedric swallowed wrong and began choking. His attempts to put down his tea, while coughing and sputtering, only spilled hot liquid down his front.

Sofia put the letter aside and quickly rose. Setting the cup and saucer aside she grabbed a napkin, mopping up what had jumped out of his cup and onto his robe. She was still leaning over into his space when he regained his equilibrium.

"You won't consider it?" Her sorcerer's voice was horse but his eyes burned urgently.

Sofia put the napkin aside and settled back into her chair.

"I told you I was done with princes and marriage and all of that."

"He's a Duke." Cedric's deadpanned.

"Yes, that is true." She laughed lightly, attempting humor to try and lighten his mood. "So I guess I should have said I'm done with Princes, and Dukes, and marriage and all of that."

Her levity did nothing to calm him.

"He seemed to think otherwise…Sophie." The emphasis Cedric put on that last word was decidedly sour.

Sofia's mood curdled with it and she slumped back into her chair, slouching gracelessly.

"Don't do that." She bit out.

"Do what?"

"Act like my disapproving father. If you want me to feel ashamed for not being a paragon of princessly virtue you're going to be sorely disappointed."

Cedric pinned her with offended eyes as he sat up straighter in his chair.

"I don't want anything of the sort. Merlin's mushrooms Sofia, you should know by now I don't carry around a set of pearls to clutch. I simply worry that if the man's good looks and charm got to you once he might convince you again. And I would disapprove of you being with anyone who so flagrantly flaunts his conquests. No real man would ever act so disrespectfully."

"I'm not as easily taken in anymore." She defended.

"Are you sure? Because I doubt he intends to let it go so easily."

She sat up now matching his straight backed demeanor.

"No I'm very sure he won't. This is the easy path. He'll try as hard as he can for as long as he can to achieve his ends this way."

"His ends?"

"Do you really think he wants me for me?

I might be reasonably easy to look at, but I'm certainly not the most beautiful woman at court." That got her the puzzling look again but she continued on without stopping to contemplate it. "And I'm not anywhere near willing. And for a handsome, powerful man suddenly free of a wife, life at court can be rather like a wine tasting. He could be sampling it all now and choosing what to take home in his own time.

He's not after love or companionship. What Alex wants is power. And with Carl dead he's in an enviable position. There's arguably no one more powerful except the king. And the king," Sofia picked up the discarded letter from the tea table and handed it to him, "may not live much longer."

Cedric scanned the lines as quickly as she had before replacing it on the tray with now shaking hands.

"Freezenberger law dictates the Crown Prince won't be of age until his twentieth birthday. If Henrik dies before that there'll be a power vacuum before the coffin lid is even sealed. The people will obey his will and look to me as Queen regent. But others, nobles mostly, will be unhappy with the mere notion of a female caring for the throne. Especially one who believes it isn't their birthright to rape the land and its people for their own gain. They'll turn to Alex as first peer in the land and he'll have to either raise an army and risk a civil war, or fold. And it's not in him to just slink away. It would eat at him all the rest of his days that he got so close only to turn tail and run.

So wouldn't it all be smoother and less bloody if he could simply eliminate any rivalry before it becomes an issue? If I married him than my power would be his power, the end."

Cedric's face had gone pale by the time she finished.

"Forgive me. I should know better by now than to underestimate you like that. I wasn't really, I just…let my emotions cloud my judgement."

Another time she might have allowed herself a few moments to enjoy those words. But right now there was a more urgent topic they needed to canvas.

"You were with Freddie for a long time this afternoon."

Cedric nodded, staying silent.

"I'm right, aren't I?"

Cedric took the teapot and refilled each of their cups.

"You are," he answered finally, his voice grave. "I didn't press him for anything truly difficult, but he's incredibly talented, and equally unstable. Has he had any tutoring outside of what the Fairies teach at Royal Prep?"

Sofia shook her head.

"Carl was strictly against it. Royalty do not dirty their hands with magic. It's only in the last six months I've been able to really show him anything. He's eager to learn, but not from me. And I think we can both agree he needs it."

Cedric raised an eyebrow at her.

"You're setting the chess board aren't you? And from that look I'm on it."

She nodded seeing no point in playing coy.

"You're my bishop, always!" She affirmed, smiling for just a moment before becoming serious again. "I wanted to be out of all this. I wanted to have peace and live quietly for once. I guess a part of me still wants to believe I can direct the course of my own life if only I try hard enough. But that would mean abandoning Freddie and Freezenberg to a man who cares for nothing and no one but himself.

I'm going to go to the King tomorrow and demand he disband Freddie's household. He should come and live with me. As the future Regent any duties Freddie and the Duke are handling should be mine anyway. That will take the pressure off Freddie and give him the opportunity to go back to Royal Prep where he belongs. It will also give you long enough to help him come into his abilities."

"You asked me here to help him get control. That's the task of a few weeks. Are you asking me to apprentice him now instead?"

"I am."

"If he goes back to Royal Prep surely the fairies can help him."

"Freddie needs someone with just the right touch. Someone who makes him feel safe and comfortable, but who's willing to stand up to him when it matters. He needs you… and so do I."

For a fleeting instant Cedric's face went soft, the way it used to when she was a child and she gave him an unexpectedly thoughtful gift. But it was replaced, all too quickly, with a look of exasperation.

"Sofia I'm still Royal Sorcerer of Enchancia. I have duties at home that can't be put off indefinitely." He argued.

"Then retire. Once Rolland knows what I suspect he'll be duty bound to help anyway. And if Calista really gets into a spot you can always make a quick pop back."

"Where would I live?" He countered.

"Here, with me."

His eyes grew wide at that.

"That would be highly improper. If it really comes to this Sofia, you can't let any hint of scandal touch you. And old as I am if I lived here people would think...well they might assume…" he seemed unable to finish the sentence.

Something crestfallen and petulant goaded her to do it for him.

"…that you're my lover."

The word seemed to hang in the air as Cedric's normally pale cheeks went scarlet and his breathing picked up.

She had no idea why it should embarrass him to say the word after he'd just claimed to be unbothered by the knowledge she'd had a few. But finally she felt compelled to put him out of his misery.

"It wouldn't just be the two of us here. I'll be putting together my own court, of sorts, and you'd have an official position. Tutor to the Crown Prince and Advisor to the Dowager Crown Princess at first, and when the time comes you'd be Advisor to the Queen Regent and…Royal Sorcerer of Freezenberg.

After everything you've done for my people, the way they love you, they'll be less likely to fracture if they know you stand with me. Not to mention the mere threat of fighting the both of us may be exactly what convinces Alex to back down. I can cut him off at the knees before he ever tries to stand."

Cedric seemed to be contemplating her assessment carefully, and Sofia could only watch with a queasy stomach as a look of utter consternation blossomed on his face. Of course he understood the enormity of what she was suggesting. Not just the complete uprooting of his life, but the danger she was asking him to put it in. It could all come to nothing though. A show of strength might be enough to stop things in their tracks, then again….

"He hasn't done anything yet. Even his wife's death was ruled a suicide. But… Cedric, he's plotting. If I don't take the offensive now, get Freddie out from under his control and make a show of strength, he'll take my son and everything else I've given my life for!"

Cedric remained silent for a while longer, picking up his tea and drinking what was left of the lukewarm liquid in one gulp.

"Do I even have to say it? You already know what my answer is."

She just waited, needing to hear it.

"Poseidon's pumpkins girl, of course I'm staying! I wasn't weighing my options. I was hoping to punch a hole in your logic and I can't! While I'm not sure I agree my involvement will sway or deter anyone, my wand is always yours!"

The sick feeling in Sofia's stomach finally subsided and she let out a breath she hardly knew she'd been holding.

"Thank you. Thank you so much!"

"Oh stop thanking me!" He snapped. From the contrite look that immediately took him it seemed he'd spoken far more harshly than he'd intended to. "We're friends Sofia. So much so that word hardly seems to fit us anymore. I'm not going anywhere until I know you and Freddie are safe. And even then we both know I'm not going very far."

Cedric threw his hands wide in aggravation, tea cup, saucer, and all.

"After all, how can I be sure you aren't getting yourself into more trouble if I let you out of my sight, hmm?"

"You wouldn't have to go anywhere if you didn't want to. You could stay here with me… forever."

She hadn't meant to say that. But his irascible devotion, and the knowledge he thought what was between them was too deep for the tepid word 'friend' seemed to compel it from her. And yet, not five minutes before he'd been scandalized because people might think her his bedmate? The odd ebb and flow of his emotions was beginning to make her slightly seasick.

"That's tempting," he said, slowly, "but you don't want to have an old man in your way." Cedric set down his cup and turned to stare into the fire.

"When have you ever been in my way?" She countered trying to find her footing as he ebbed once again.

Cedric sighed, and as he did that puzzling look made a reappearance.

"Your son informed me there's someone your keen on. I understand now is not the time for romance, but I assume eventually you'll want to do something about that. You'll hardly want the young man thinking you've a father type about to disapprove of him."

Sofia slumped back in her chair and tried to keep the shock off her face.

He couldn't really be that dense…could he?

"Do you think of yourself as my father type?" She ventured shakily, praying that wasn't the word that fit better than friend.

Cedric sneered and made a sound low in his throat, something very much like a growl.

That look and the sound and the way he suddenly seemed about to lose control of himself transformed the tingle she'd been feeling all day into an ache that settled low and hot in her belly.

"Certainly not!" His voice began rising in volume with every word. "But that is surely what your young man will think."

"My young man?"

Cedric rose from his chair abruptly and looked down on her. He seemed a dark creature then, filled with rage and pain the likes of which she hadn't seen in years. And there was something else…his pupils were black pin pricks, his breathing coming heavy again, his hands clawing, looking as though he very much wanted to wrap them around something and squeeze.

And abruptly the nature of that puzzling look became clear: jealousy!

"Yes your young man." He spat. "He can't be a prince or a duke, we've covered that! I suppose it matters very little who he is. Some tall, handsome, strappingly virile stripling whose perfection makes your whole being tremble. This one better be good enough for you Sofia!" Her sorcerer's voice was like a knife cutting through the quiet now. "He had better deserve you! Otherwise how can I bear…?" Cedric clamped his mouth shut, something very much like devastation washing over his features.

Then he was gone, leaving Sofia reeling.

He was jealous!

How could that be?

How could he be when he didn't love her? How could that be when he'd spent nearly all Sofia's years in Freezenberg pining for….

The morning before Wassalia found her in front of the fire in her bedroom, wrapped in a long velvet dressing gown, with as many blankets as she could find piled on her lap, re-reading her mother's letter. It wasn't very long, since Sofia had only asked her to canvas a single topic: Cedric's marriage.

"Though we were all shocked by the suddenness of the news, your father is very impressed with your mentor's choice." Her mother wrote.

Grudgingly Sofia couldn't help but agree.

She didn't know what she'd expected those months ago, when Carl had sprung the news on her, but she supposed she thought this person had come out of the blue. She'd imagined a stranger swooping in during her absence to fill the hateful void she'd created with her own two destructive hands.

She wasn't.

Sofia knew her. Lucilla Brynn, a Sorceress of no small repute, from a well-respected magical family. She was Graylock of Rudistan's cousin. But instead of becoming a Royal Sorcerer, as many in their family were, she had chosen to become a healer and was renowned as a pioneer in the field of medicinal magic.

Sofia had first met her five years ago when, on a trip to the charmacy, Cedric's attention had been caught by her medicinal spellbook. He'd harbored an interest in healing for many years and dabbled in making potions that could heal burns, mend bones, and cure common ailments.

Though his talent for such things had been largely ignored until James was badly injured during a jousting tournament. Her brother's arm had been broken in two places and his hand crushed. The Royal doctor had set the bones but wasn't optimistic about James' chances of ever holding a sword again.

Sofia had suggested they let Cedric have a look at it. Her father had been reluctant initially, but eventually gave in, muttering about how the sorcerer couldn't possibly make it worse. Her mentor had healed James completely, just as she knew he would. And the king had been so amazed he'd given his permission for Cedric to pursue this new 'hobby'. But, in Enchancia at least, it was still considered odd for a sorcerer to practice medicine.

After devouring the behemoth of a tome in a single day, and declaring Master Brynn 'not a charlatan', Cedric had been so excited he'd overcome both his natural dislike of others and his self- consciousness and written to her.

Over the course of the next few months they began a correspondence, trading spells and potions, talking over ailments and theorizing cures, testing their own hypotheses in a sort of collegial competition. Sofia had been overjoyed to see him make a new friend and was a bit star struck herself by such an accomplished, magical woman.

A year after his initial letter, Master Brynn wrote inviting Cedric to Omenvayle, the magical university where she was a professor. Sofia had leveraged her 'position' as Cedric's apprentice into permission to tag along.

Sofia remembered being in awe of the tall, willowy woman with hair so black it was nearly blue and depthless violet eyes that shown with an unquenchable thirst for knowledge. She also remembered being startled by how young Master Brynn was, only twenty-five.

The three of them had spent the day lost in books and potions and spells and even though she was just an apprentice, and not even an official one at that, Master Brynn had been nothing but kind. She seemed to admire Cedric all the more for having taken a young woman under his wing and included Sofia as though she were an equal.

On the way back home, Sofia had been unable to stop herself from going on and on about how, when she grew up, she wanted to be just like Master Lucy. Combining a talent for magic with a sincere will to help others …what greater purpose could there be in life?

It made her gut twist painfully to remember Cedric's reaction to her enthusiasm. He'd smiled at her, a full smile with teeth, tucked a strand of stray hair behind her ear and then let his fingers slide along her jaw, tipping her face up to his.

"I have no doubt in my mind you will far exceed even the illustrious Master Brynn one day."

Sofia had been left breathless by the physical contact and by the praise, two things which Cedric rarely bestowed. And for a short time she'd gotten her hopes up. Letting herself believe, as fifteen year olds will, that he must finally be noticing she was no longer a child.

Now she felt like the biggest of fools. All this time Cedric must have been falling for Lucy! He'd never noticed her at all. She was just a silly, awkward girl when compared to such a gifted, confident woman?

Bitterness welled up, hot and sharp, and Sofia found herself ripping the letter to pieces and hurling it into the fire. But it only incensed her more to realize her snit changed nothing. Burning the words wouldn't make them false.

"Your Highness, you're already up?" Anna-Grete's voice cut through the silence.

"I couldn't sleep." Sofia smiled weakly.

"Excited to be going home for the holiday?" The older woman asked, pulling Sofia's travel gown out of the wardrobe and giving the heavy velvet a light shake to make sure no lint clung to it.

Sofia nodded. "I miss my mother." It was the only thing she could say with sincerity. Throwing off the blankets she rose so Anna-Grete could help her wash and dress.

An hour later Anna-Grete was negotiating the strings of Sofia's corset.

She was midway through her pregnancy now and getting into it each day had become a torture of the highest order, even with the laces tied less tightly. Despite the mixed emotions she had about her pregnancy Sofia was looking forward to the time when she'd be so big the hated undergarment would have to be abandoned.

"I think that's as good as it gets." The duchess laughed.

"We could just forget the whole thing?" Sofia's hope died before the words were even out.

"It's not fitting for a princess to go around without proper undergarments. You can't give up the corset until you're willing to give up going out!"

"Yes Ma'am," Sofia grumbled.

Anna-Grete startled Sofia when she not only laughed kindly but reached over and laid an affectionate, motherly kiss on the princess's cheek.

"I promise you'll be begging to get back into this it when you're so big you can't see your feet anymore!"

Sofia just looked at her friend happily astonished.

The warm feeling ended up being fleeting though, as her other women began filing into the room to make her bed, lay out her breakfast, and finish helping her dress. Countess Ormandy picked up Sofia's garnet colored travel gown and brought it over. Sofia accepted her help in dressing but turned away without a word of acknowledgement.

The princess's single attempt to dismiss her had ended in a screaming match with her husband that only ceased when Duchess Dusselstein, fearing for Sofia's wellbeing, had physically gotten between them. So the Countess stayed, and the two women circled each other uncomfortably, forced together by the man they were both oddly bound to.

"Would you like the red hat, Your Highness?" The Countess asked meekly.

Sofia felt herself bristle. She had no intention of being maneuvered by this woman anymore, even if it was about something as paltry as giving a one word answer when she didn't want to speak at all! So instead of giving the countess any notice, Sofia walked over to the collection of hat boxes that had been pulled out and picked a green velvet tricorn with ostrich feathers dyed red, green, and gold.

Countess Ormandy made to follow her, but Anna-Grete put a hand on the younger woman's shoulder.

"Go with the luggage and make sure it gets loaded properly."

Elena nodded, bobbing a curtsey to Sofia before fleeing the room.

A hat pin later, Sofia gave the Duchess a tight, grateful hug and wished her a happy Wassalia. Then she was out the doors with two of her lesser ladies in tow, making her way to the roof. Carl was already in the coach with two of his noble hangers on. Sofia's ladies helped her in and they all took the bench opposite the men.

The ride was lively, despite the fact the Prince and Princess barely spoke to each other, and Enchancia Castle was insight long before Sofia expected.

She peaked out the window and whatever lightness her mood had managed to attain drained away. Her mother was there on the steps along with her father, James, Vivian, and Baileywick. They were all welcome faces, beloved and familiar and longed for. Even King Rolland's presence made he feel warm and happy. He was just so inextricably linked with her images of home she couldn't help it.

Their relationship had also suffered in the wake of her betrothal, but Sofia felt the now familiar pangs of guilt when she realized she'd treated the orchestrator of her sale far better than the man who'd been her very best friend. But she had no time to wallow in the thought, because the man who'd been her best friend was standing there too… beside his fiancé.

The coach began its swift descent and Sofia felt her stomach drop, only partially from the loss of altitude.

Carl's gentleman descended the coach first, followed by her ladies. Then Carl went out and made a gallant show of helping his 'beloved' wife, all so her family might see how he doted upon her in her delicate condition.

Sofia wondered idly who he thought he was fooling?

But then it didn't matter because her mother was hugging her! Sofia felt as though she were safe and whole, finally in the arms of the one person who could always make everything better! She wanted to stay in her mother's embrace forever, but after a long moment she allowed herself to be detached and helped up the slippery steps to greet her father, James and Vivian, and Baileywick.

Each hug was genuine and wholehearted, but knowing who stood at the end of the line made it impossible to concentrate on anything but their eventual coming face to face.

Finally, Sofia couldn't realistically keep clinging to Baileywick. So she took a single, deep breath, squeezing her eyes shut as she mustered her courage, and detached herself from the dear old man.

"Your Highness," Cedric's voice was…Sofia couldn't place it.

It wasn't angry or awkward or resentful or even cold really. It just was. And somehow that made her heart hurt all the more, because Cedric's voice was never emotionless. He was a man of deep feeling and along with his expressive face his voice, with its vast range of pitches and depths, had always conveyed his inner state with startling clarity.

"Mr. Cedric," she answered back, bobbing a stiff curtsey.

Cedric knew there wouldn't be any hug for him. Not after the way they'd parted after Skjolder.

Carl left not long after delivering Sofia's letter and for the rest of Cedric's stay there had been no more hostilities. But neither of them seemed able to find the courage to talk beyond what was necessary to accomplish their task. Once they'd returned to the palace she'd gone back to avoiding him and he knew he had no right to be angry about it. He'd told her he'd never wanted her around, that their whole friendship had been a lie. Why would she keep seeking him out?

For his part he seemed unable to look at her without imagining her beautiful, horrible husband on top of her. For reasons not even he fully understood, knowing she was carrying the prince's child made Cedric feel as though was losing her all over again.

Still, he held out hope she would eventually realize his angry words had been the lie, a cowardly, wretched one spoken in rage. She didn't seem to be angry at him anymore, and she was coming to his… to tomorrow night's ceremony. Maybe with time….

Fingers curled around his arm and he turned, almost surprised to find Lucy next to him.

"Princess Sofia!" His betrothed sounded so happy to see the younger woman, when really he couldn't imagine the bitterness facing Sofia must be causing her.

He found her rising still father in his estimation.

Other women would have handled it differently, taken the low road. But Lucilla was cut from a different cloth.

He'd committed what should have been an unforgivable blunder, only nights before. Worse than what he'd blurted out while they were being… intimate, was its obvious implication. But she'd been astoundingly understanding about that as well. She was still going forward with all of this after all. And it seemed she was determined not to treat Sofia badly because he was already a failure as a husband.

She was too good a woman for him as he had told her many times.

They'd been friends, of sorts, for half a decade. Though it had taken Cedric a great deal of time to feel comfortable calling her that. And not long after he'd accepted they were friends, she'd begun pursuing him.

At first Cedric hadn't even noticed.

He was so caught up in his work, in his many solitary pursuits, and in Sofia, it took his mother pointing it out for him to realize the magical healer was interested in him beyond his ability to transmute cave moss and emerald dust into an anesthetic that didn't leave the user groggy when the effects wore off. Or make a paste out of toadstool stems and griffin saliva that both cleaned and sealed a wound better and faster than traditional medicaments.

But despite his parents getting their hopes up, he'd tried his best to make it clear to everyone he wasn't interested.

If such a woman had come along even a year earlier he would have jumped on her with vulgar eagerness. Probably making his brief crush on Sasha the Sorceress look positively restrained by comparison.

But by the time he met Lucy there was no room in his world, or his heart, for anyone but Sofia.

He knew he couldn't have his princess, and yet he couldn't bring himself to consider another. He'd tried the thought on a few times. Usually after his father finished what had become an increasingly frequent refrain of nagging and bullying about Cedric's lack of an heir.

He might not have youth and good looks on his side, but that wasn't always so important. There were many men of his acquaintance, Graylock for instance, who were just as lacking in physical charms and had still managed to find wives and sire children.

Why was he condemning himself to a life of pining for the one person he could never have?

But then she would pop her head in his door, her sunny smile and infectious happiness filling the room, and he would be unable to imagine loving any other face as much, or anticipating another person's presence as eagerly as he had come to anticipate hers. So he'd put it out of his mind… until the maelstrom of dark emotions that followed Sofia's betrothal.

And now here they were.

"Master Lucy, please accept my most sincere congratulations." Sofia said the words automatically, but felt proud for even getting them past her lips. "I'm sorry I couldn't give them earlier, but I'm honored you've invited me to be a part of such a special occasion."

Master Brynn was talking again but Sofia didn't hear any of it. She just nodded in the places that felt appropriate and tried to hide her relief when the conversation came to a conclusion.

"Well, let's get inside where it's warm and eat something shall we?" Her father's loud, confident voice filled the air.

Sofia followed Cedric and Master Brynn, his fiancé Sofia amended, into the castle. But once inside she touched her father's arm.

"I'm not very hungry." She said. "If it's alright I think I would prefer to rest."

It was amazing what a pregnant woman could get away with. Excusing oneself form social obligations, even just lunch with extended family, was never looked on well when you were royalty. But her burgeoning belly was practically a passport to being happily and readily excused from any number of expectations.

"Of course Sofia!" Her father said in an emphatic tone.

Sofia felt almost bad about the look of anxiety that crossed his face. It made her feel like she was preying on the fear he must have of pregnancy in general, never being able to forget his first wife had been taken from him by it. It was the reason why he and her mother had never had a child of their own. Having heirs already, Rolland wouldn't even ponder risking Miranda's life that way.

"I'll go with you Sofia." Her mother offered, putting her arm around her daughter's shoulders and steering her down the hall to her old room.

When they were behind locked doors Miranda looked down on Sofia with worried eyes.

"Oh mom!" Sofia couldn't hold it in any longer and began to sob.

Miranda pulled her into a real embrace and let her daughter cling to her and weep until there was nothing left. Guiding Sofia over to the bed, her mother laid her down, unpinning her hat and pulling off her boots, before sitting beside her.

"Sofia," her mother began, her voice serious but loving all at the same time, "you have to let him go."

The princess only smiled, if wanly. She knew her mother was the one person from whom she could never hide. So why had she thought keeping silent about her true feelings for Cedric would keep her mother from knowing them?

"He was never mine to hold." Sofia hiccupped, wiping her tears with the backs of her expensive suede gloves.

Her mother clucked, brushing her hands aside and gently wiping the salty wetness away with her own fingers.

"Perhaps not. But you still are, even if only in your own heart."

Sofia took in a breath preparing to argue, but nothing came out. Her mother was right. Her mother was always right.

Miranda looked at her daughter and where others would have given Sofia pity or sympathy, her mother gave her strength.

"Have you ever even said the words aloud?"

Sofia was confused about why that should matter, but answered anyway, trusting implicitly that Miranda wouldn't ask unless it served a purpose.

"Only to myself."

Her mother nodded, every inch the sage older woman, battletested and war warn, standing on the other end of life with a wealth of hard won experience.

"Say it to me now." She urged.

Sofia took a shaky breath.

"I love him," her voice was barely a whisper, "I always have." Sofia felt the tears coming again. "Oh mom, I don't want him to marry her! I know that's selfish and unfair, but I can't bear it!"

Miranda stroked her daughter's beautiful curls, just the color Birk's had been.

"I'm so sorry Sofia. But you have to face the truth. Even if he did love you, you would never have been allowed to be together."

Sofia's voice hitched on a gutted little sound of sorrow, but she nodded. Deep down she'd always known that.

"So you've finally confessed it. Now you have to accept it, and let it go."

"I can't!" Sofia shook her head.

"You have too." Her mother's voice was firm.

Coming from anyone else Sofia would have thought those words a cold, dismissive gesture of impatience. But Sofia understood Miranda wasn't trivializing her heartache or tetchily wishing she would face reality. She was commiserating with Sofia in a way she had never been able to before, sharing her hardest earned piece of wisdom. Because Sofia didn't know a single other person who had ever had to accept what couldn't be changed or let go of what couldn't be had back the way her mother had.

"What do I do?"

"You go tomorrow night, and stand with for your friend…."

Sofia opened her mouth to remind her mother she and Cedric weren't even friends anymore, but Miranda put a finger over her lips.

"I know the two of you never talked, but deeds speak louder than words Sofia. Nothing will tell him better how much you want to make amends. Go and stand up for your friend and wish him well and mean it.

And then go home.

Go back home and find something, anything, that gives your life meaning.

Believe me Sofia, when it's returned, love is wonderful. It's amazing and cataclysmic. But it can all be taken away in the blink of an eye. You can't build your life on its foundation. Because one day a storm will come. And if all you have is love, you could easily find yourself nothing more than driftwood on the tide."

Her mother kissed her softly on the forehead and rose. "You need to rest."

.o~O*O~o.

A Wassalia night wedding. Sofia didn't think there could be anything more perfect.

The clearing was lit by candlelight. Every person held one in a gloved hand as they formed a wide circle. Then as she watched Cedric and Lucy step into the center, snow begin to fall.

She was standing between Goodwin and Winifred. They had insisted, as though she were a part of the family. Sofia had been deeply touched. She'd hugged Cedric's mother with a fierceness she would have been embarrassed of, had not the older woman hugged her back with equal intensity. Sofia thought she saw something in Mrs. Winifred's eyes as they'd pulled apart, but words couldn't make anything different, so why say them?

Instead she gave a small, pallid smile to Graylock who was standing on the other side of the circle. He raised his candle in a cheeky salute and then Wu Chang, who was performing the ceremony, began speaking.

This was the way sorcerers joined. No pomp, no grand displays of wealth or power or status. Just vows spoken before the people you loved, under the eyes of mother earth and father sky and their children the stars.

When he finished his few words the ancient sorcerer took one of Cedric's hands and one of Lucy's and joined them between his own.

Then it was the bride and grooms' turn. They spoke the ancient words of the ceremony in unison.

"I come to you with a heart that's true,

Truly given and evermore pledged to you.

I come to you with a soul that's free,

Freely forsaking any other love that might be.

I come to you with a mind that's steady,

To face the trials of life by your side I am ever ready.

I come to you with a body that burns,

Desiring only for you, no matter how many times the seasons may turn."

They both turned now, Cedric to his mother and Lucy to hers. Winifred produced an unlit candle and handed it to her son. He tipped it so its wick caught from the flame his mother grasped and then he began to turn back.

As he did, Cedric's eyes caught hers. And for a single moment it was like everything else fell away.

His eyes were so…open. Sofia thought she could see down to the very bottom of him. But even so she wasn't sure what lay there. It wasn't anger and it wasn't bitterness. Those seemed to have abandoned him. Instead it was warm and heartrending and stole the very breath from her body.

Later she would choose to believe that look had been forgiveness.

Because it could never be anything else, not when he turned away and the dark, snow covered world came back into sharp relief. Not when she watched him walk back to his intended and tip his candle into hers.

Making her, before the gods, before the elements, and before their families, his wife.