Vegetable soup, smoked fish, bread, and milk were laid out before them. While it may not have been a royal feast, it was the most delicious food he had eaten in weeks. As Keith savored each bite, the comfortable warmth of the homemade meal filled his stomach. Not only this, the genuine enthusiasm with which Maeve ate beside him was fascinating. He couldn't help but stare at her as she stuffed her little mouth with delight, munching cutely and emitting little hums that showed how pleased she was with the supper. Her earnest expressions rendered him desperate to tease her, and a smirk appeared on his face.

Ah, the things he would do to her if they weren't being watched by so many pairs of innocent eyes.

"Excuse me," Maeve said to Lorraine, oblivious to his thoughts. In an attempt to be polite, she covered her mouth with one hand while the other pointed to a small container with a yellow cream in it. "Is that butter?"

The woman laughed softly, apparently amused by Maeve's enthusiasm as well. "Eileen, pass the butter to our guest."

"Oh, thank you!" Maeve reached for the container, deeply grateful to the girl who was looking at her with judgemental eyes as she obeyed her mother's order. "I love butter, it's been so long since I last had it!"

Keith watched still in awe as she spread some of the butter on a piece of bread. Since it would be too risky to take the bread from her dainty grip to feed her himself, his fingers started reaching for her knee under the table, being interrupted by Brendan's sudden, loud laughter.

"She's a lass of simple tastes," he said. "She'll do well in court, if you're really the prince. You know you can marry her all you want here, but there, she'll have to be happy with what you can really offer her."

The piece of bread Maeve was taking to her open mouth stopped midway at the same time Keith's fist clenched before touching her. Taking her with him after the ceremony was an idea that they hadn't discussed yet; it was, objectively, too soon to even bring up the matter, although he felt like those weeks together were worth months of intimacy. Still, the decision wasn't a simple matter and it involved many factors, including her own acceptance to go with him, if it came to it. He would do everything to convince her, yet Maeve could choose to stay in Caisteal or her little village. She surely seemed to be attached to life in Néart. But if he were to take her to court, they would face many challenges.

He was aware that he wasn't a very popular prince among the nobles, and taking a woman way below his station as a lover was unbecoming. He would end up exposing her to all sorts of situations, worse than Brendan's comment. Even life threatening ones. If he were to give her the title of mistress, as the man was implying, it would be safer and the expected thing to do when a prince wanted to be with a commoner. This, along with the fact that they were under Brendan's favor, left Keith speechless, otherwise he would offend him in return. Badly. Turning her into his mistress wasn't something he thought Maeve deserved. And pointing it out to her so rudely, making her excitement wither completely as she abandoned her bread on the plate, didn't please him at all.

"Brendan! Don't say those things," Lorraine reprimanded him from the other side of the table.

"Wait. Is he the prince?" Eileen looked shocked, her eyes moving back and forth between Brendan and Keith.

"Like the stories?" Lizzie asked innocently, and Lucy added with the same tone, "I want to be a princess."

"I thought he would look like a prince at least a little bit, but he doesn't look like a prince at all!" Eileen still sounded confused and a tad disappointed.

"Ah, but he is!" Brendan chuckled again, leaning forward to take a look into both Keith's and Maeve's eyes. "Sorry about that, but the way I could hear both your hearts breaking at my comment was all I needed to be certain. Can't fake that."

"You shouldn't have done that," Keith muttered to Brendan, trying not to be as menacing as his beastly instincts demanded him to be. "Say what you want about me, but don't involve her."

"It's ok," Maeve touched his shoulder. The small, empty smile on her lips wasn't enough to prepare him for her next cold words. "He is the prince, indeed, and he's going to Caisteal in the morrow to take part in the upcoming Sacred Communion. I'll be heading back to where I am supposed to be. I've only helped him in a time of need, and after he parts, I won't see him again," she said, and her words just made his heart sink even more, although he didn't show it. Maeve stood up from her chair slowly and somewhat politely, although her next words were hurried. "There'll be no marriage, and I'll never go to court with him. Now if you excuse me. The supper was amazing, and I'm grateful for the food."

She bowed her head reverently with teary eyes before rushing to the kitchen of the unfamiliar house. Since their hosts hadn't yet settled them in a room, she had no place to run to, Keith realized, resorting to that awkward move. He shifted the chair backward, preparing to stand when Lorraine did it first.

"Look what you've done!" She snorted to Brendan, storming off after Maeve with the twins promptly trailing her.

Brendan shrugged, casually sweeping the remains of soup on his plate with a piece of bread. "She loves you," he stated without looking at Keith. "Those things she said, she believes them to be true, and it's hurting her."

"I don't need you to tell me that," Keith growled.

Perhaps he did. Keith knew how Maeve really felt, how she reacted to his every move, how she cried last in the hut… Yet, her words were cruel, and her lack of trust in him made him wonder if she really didn't mean them. When he comes for her, will her consuming doubts lead her to reject him?

For some inexplicable reason, he looked at Brendan as if the older man could give him an answer. Keith had never resorted to someone else's opinion, let alone the opinion of someone who had just meddled with his affairs with Maeve. Still, he felt like the older man had some sort of knowledge that was lacking in him at that moment to deal with the situation. Brendan looked back at him calmly, nonchalantly eating his bread now soaked with soup.

"Sometimes love is not enough, aye?" He said as if it was a loud thought.

"Aren't you a prince? Thought you could make whatever you want happen, but maybe you're too weak," Eileen reminded them of her presence with the unexpected remark, making Keith wonder how much he was acting like him without really making an effort to pretend. No, it was different. Some things take time, and having patience wasn't a weakness. "No wonder they don't like you," she added, making him narrow his eyes.

They?

"Eileen, go check on Ollie and let your mother know if she wakes," Brendan ordered her immediately with a calm, but firm voice, and the girl frowned as she left the table to do as he said. "Do you smoke, lad? I like to light a pipe after dinner, but Lorraine won't let me do it here because of the girls. Why don't you join me outside?"

Keith didn't smoke, but he followed Brendan, knowing that there were more than just provocations waiting to be shared.

Maeve clutched her knees as she sat in the half wooden barrel, partially filled with warm water. Lorraine had helped her bathe, and now she was taking care of her hair, undoing braids and combing her locks carefully. She hadn't asked anything when she found Maeve crying in the kitchen. She simply took her upstairs to her room, and leaving the twins with the task of picking up a dress for Maeve, Lorraine offered her a bath. It was comforting. It made Maeve feel free to let her tears flow along with the water as Lorraine poured it down on her.

"Please, forgive my husband, he has his own way of getting his answers," the woman finally made conversation after Maeve had calmed down. Lorraine had the sensibility that was lacking in Brendan, soothing her and waiting for the right moment to talk.

"I've… figured as much by now," Maeve said in return, with a mild smile on her face. He surely had been a nuisance to her, but also kind enough to welcome them in his house, and despite his harsh comment, it had been heartwarming for Maeve.

"I know it's troublesome, but he means no harm," Lorraine defended her husband with a tinge of undeniable love in her voice. "The prince seems to be very gentle, unlike him. You're lucky, Andie."

Maeve had almost forgotten she was Andie now. It was funny being called like that.

"Well, he can be troublesome sometimes," Maeve said, although her thoughts went only to one of his faces. As for the other… That face had never done anything to displease her, but after considering it for a while, she realized something. Something she felt, but never materialized it in real thoughts or words. She looked into Lorraine's gentle blue eyes, a little surprised herself. "You know, sometimes… I can't quite know what he's feeling, not completely."

Keith's gentle face usually hid behind unnecessary apologies. He would sometimes surprise her with glimpses of his thoughts, as he blurted them out so candidly when distracted, but he seemed afraid to really tell her how he felt. And since he had never made any advance as straightforwardly as his other face, Maeve actually couldn't know if he wanted her as much as him, or if his gentle kisses were just a remnant of the other's feelings. It was probably tricky to share a body, after all. Not to mention how it could be worse: he could be kissing her out of a false notion of debt for her help during his recovery. Maeve curled up and pressed her knees harder against her chest. She didn't know if it should matter, however. He was going away in just a few hours.

But her heart still cried for him.

Lorraine's eyebrows creased curiously at her as she stopped combing her hair. "I thought it was very clear how he felt about you, Andie," she chuckled softly. "Not everyone feels comfortable putting their feelings into words, and from what I've heard, the prince is very… insecure. You might need to be patient."

"You've heard this about him?" Maeve couldn't contain herself from asking. It was expected that Caisteal, or Royal searching parties, would spread information about the prince to help people recognize him. Insecure wasn't a helpful trait to identify him, however.

"Perhaps people are wrong, but this is what they've been talking about, Andie," Lorraine looked somewhat guilty when Maeve turned to face her with an inquiring stare. The woman took a deep breath before taking a towel to wrap it carefully around her shoulders. "Come, let's dry you out before you catch a cold," she rushed her out of the barrel, and while Maeve obeyed and slowly stood up with her help, she wouldn't let the topic die like this.

"Is there anything else people are saying about Keith?" Maeve persisted, taking the towel and starting to pat it against her damp skin. The fabric was so soft, so clean, she held the simple towel for a moment, realizing how much she missed that kind of comfort. Brendan wasn't wrong, she was a lass of simple tastes.

Lorraine was using another towel to dry her hair in mild strokes behind her. "You know how it is… Ever since the prince went missing, there had been all sorts of gossip, misunderstandings, even frauds. This is why Brendan was so suspicious… He's a very wary man, he only believes that he can see, but he got even more skeptical with all those stories and rumors. He trusts you both a lot, you know! He would never let someone he doesn't trust get anywhere near the girls."

"This is good to hear, Lorraine," it explained why she was so quick to welcome them, and also why Brendan enjoyed testing them. Maeve smiled honestly, still she felt the woman start trailing off, which just alerted her even more about the contents of what she had heard. "The gossip about the prince… They were mean, weren't they?"

"I don't mind the idle gossip, Andie," Lorraine said in a serious tone, apparently concentrating on brushing the towel all over the length of her hair. "But one day we got a visit from the druids. You know the druids?" Maeve nodded, she knew she was referring to the officials from Caisteal na Sí. Lorraine went on. "They had already been around before, but they didn't seem to know much by then. It was different a few days ago… Brendan got them to talk..."

"And what did they say?" Maeve wrapped herself with the towel and crossed her arms over her chest. She was starting to feel chill with the cold air of the night.

"They said Prince Keith ran away from his duties because he's weak, shy, insecure, unfit to be our king," her words were so quick it was difficult to follow, especially when Lorraine was stroking her scalp with the towel, making her voice sound muffled to Maeve's ears. "While the Royals asked for any information on the prince, and to escort him back in safety to the court if possible, the druids demanded him to be taken back to Caisteal by whatever means necessary. They think he offended Néart."

"He hadn't," Maeve was quick to defend him, turning to look into Lorraine's eyes solemnly. "He just got lost, he had never disrespected Néart, I assure you." The woman looked down apprehensively, and Maeve understood there was more to it. "They'll deny him as the crown prince, won't they?"

Lorraine smiled sadly at her as she shook out the damp towel and walked away in silence. Maeve felt her crying heart crashing inside her chest. All of her feelings seemed so small in the face of that new information. Deep down, she believed Keith would return to Caisteal and everything would go the way they were supposed to. She honestly had been struggling to believe his suspicions could be right, for he was doubting her second home. Now, it was like she didn't know anything about Caisteal anymore.

For a moment, Maeve felt she had nowhere to go back to. She only had…

"Keith…"

He never cared for the stars as much as he did. Keith had to admit they looked beautiful that night however, those countless little dots twinkling in blue and red. They told stories he knew just because of him. Some claimed they could read more than just the heroic stories, but also the future of every living being, written in the skies of wandering lights, and he tried to imagine how it would be to be guided by them.

Brendan had gone inside, leaving the lingering scent of tobacco in the air, while Keith remained alone on the porch, sitting on the stairs. He absentmindedly flipped the old coin he always carried with him, rolling it through his fingers. It struck him as ironic how he had forgotten about it when he was living alone with Maeve. Brendan appeared more surprised by Keith's unwavering determination to return to Caisteal than Keith was by his words. Caisteal, like any other noble estate, was a snake pit, despite claims of serving a higher purpose. The Lady of Néart, first and foremost, was a duchess, and Néart itself held considerable influence. The rumors spread by her druids only served to confirm Keith's suspicions about the true intentions behind the ceremony. What could have been a sacred occasion now appeared to be a tool for inciting the people against him or worse. If he was already deemed weak, his death would go unquestioned.

Keith's lack of surprise didn't indicate a lack of concern, he knew that both he and him needed to be prepared for whatever lay ahead.

A gentle breeze cleared the air, carrying the familiar sweet scent of umbraria. Keith glanced up to find Maeve closing the front door behind her, slowly making her way towards him. There was something different about her appearance — her hair was neatly braided, and though the darkness prevented him from seeing the true color of her dress, it seemed to be a light shade of blue, like the stars above. It was fitting, he wondered, considering she had been his guiding light so far. Keith's smile grew mischievous as he pulled her onto his lap instead of letting her sit on the stair beside him as she intended, drawing out a surprised gasp from her.

"Don't do this here!" Maeve whispered exasperated, and when he leaned down to kiss her, he could feel how hot her face was. Keith knew that she was all flustered, but he needed to taste those lips, to feel that soft and delicate mouth that had been so hungrily gobbling up dinner to take his tongue. She turned her face, however. "They're going to see it!"

"They aren't. Brendan knows we need some time alone…" to talk. And after she rejected him yet again, Keith realized that it might be the case. As Maeve looked at him in silence, he took a deep breath as his heart ached inside his chest. "What you said during dinner, is that what you want? To never see me again?"

His arms started to grow limp around her body, ready to release her when Maeve suddenly held him by the shoulders, shaking her head resolutely. "Keith, no! I… We have more important things to discuss."

"We do?" In his mind, everything was already settled, and his only doubt at the moment was about her feelings towards him. He wanted her. He wanted to come back to her as soon as he cleared things up in Caisteal. But if she didn't want him…

"Lorraine told me about the druids," Maeve said, her beautiful emerald eyes glistening for him even in the dark of the night. "I don't want you to go back alone."