Zachary found himself constantly distracted over the next couple weeks. He did his best to pay attention in all the Council meetings he had to attend, but his attention wandered more often than he would have liked, and he often found himself checking his watch discreetly. Fortunately, he had been in politics long enough that he did not need to pay too much attention, and if anyone noticed his distraction, they did not say anything.

Though not overly experienced in romantic endeavors, Zachary was no blushing novice either and thus was well aware of what was causing his distraction. Or more accurately who. Karigan was a breath of fresh air, a woman unlike any other that he had ever met. For one, she did not pander to him as so many did. She was honest and forthright, calling him out as she had done upon first meeting him. Though he suspected part of the reason for her candidness was the fact that she did not know who he was at first, he quickly learned that she was the type of person not afraid to express her opinion, even if she knew it would be unpopular. In addition, she was intelligent, possessing more knowledge of the way the world worked than Zachary would have expected from someone her age. Her father's position likely helped, but there was a good deal of innate talent as well.

And to top it all off, she was beautiful, at least in Zachary's eyes. Hers was not the frilly, jewel-bedecked, painted-on beauty of the ladies of court either. No, there was something deeper about her beauty, something almost magical. When she turned to Zachary during their rides with her blue eyes twinkling and strands of brown hair that always seemed to escape confinement whipping around her face in the wind, his heart would beat a bit faster and he would sometimes find himself at a loss for words despite his usual eloquence.

For once, Zachary found himself dreading the end of the Council meetings, for it would mean he had no excuse to stay in Sacor City. As the time for him to return to Hillander drew nearer, he began to increase the frequency of the meetings until they were riding together every night. It had meant a lot of late nights for Zachary as he finished up the work he was putting off to meet with her, but as far as he was concerned, it was well worth it.

The day before he was supposed to go home, he decided it was time to broach the subject they had both been carefully avoiding since she had awoken in the Mending Wing. He knew that she would not press him on it again, but he felt that given everything that had transpired between them, she deserved to know about it. Especially if events progressed as he hoped.

They rode out together as usual that night, swapping stories about their days. He kept the conversation light until they had reached a small stream at the edge of the field when he was sure that no one could overhear him, not even his Weapons who were hanging back a bit at his request. He dismounted from his horse, leading him over to drink from the stream as Karigan did the same. Gazing off into the distance, Zachary adopted a deliberately casual tone as he remarked, "I believe I have figured out who hired the assassins."

He heard her sharp intake of breath but did not turn. "Who?" she asked.

"Amilton." There was a moment of silence broken only by the soft sound of the horses drinking.

"Your brother?" she finally asked. He turned to her then, using his years of practice in court to read her face. So far, she just looked confused, but he expected that would change soon enough once she had heard the whole story. In fact, he would not have been surprised if she never wanted to see him again after hearing it, but he had never shied away from difficulties before and did not plan to on the current occasion either.

"Yes."

"Why?"

Zachary sighed and looked away again. As much as he had prepared for this moment, it was still difficult to tell her. He had never told anyone this particular secret before though he knew others were suspicious. "Amilton was. . . is. . . not the nicest person. No, that's putting it too mildly. Amilton is a vicious bully who delights in tormenting others." There, he had said it. He had finally put into words what many knew but dared not say.

"I've heard rumors," Karigan remarked cautiously.

"Honestly, the rumors are relatively mild compared to the truth."

"I can't say I'm surprised."

Zachary sighed. "Yes, I suspect many would not be but no one can say such things about the crown prince." He paused, gathering his thoughts.

"We don't have to talk about this," Karigan assured him.

"No, I want to tell you. It just might take some time."

"Take what you need. And if it helps at all, I promise this conversation will stay between the two of us so you needn't worry about repercussions."

Zachary smiled at her. "I know. I have no worries about that. It's just going to dredge up some painful memories I've tried hard to suppress." He took a deep breath before continuing. "We fought a lot as boys. I suppose a lot of brothers do, but I suspect most weren't quite as bad as we were. I had to engineer a lot of falls and other mishaps to try and explain away the various bruises and broken bones I acquired at Amilton's hand. I became known as the clumsy one, at least until I started training with the sword. I suspect my tutors were most surprised to see the awkward little prince known for falling down almost constantly actually manage to accomplish some halfway decent swordwork."

"Halfway decent?" Karigan countered with eyebrows raised. "I saw you in the woods. You must be a master." In response, Zachary reached down and lifted his sword out of the scabbard enough for her to see the black band on its blade.

"Keep in mind, I was much younger and less trained then. Smaller, too. And with Amilton six years older than me, it was not hard for him to best me in most of our fights, especially because I tried to avoid fighting back."

"Why?"

Zachary sighed. "I was the younger son. I needed to show support to Amilton in all things. It was also why I never mentioned the abuse to anyone."

"But surely your father or grandmother knew."

"I'm sure they did, but they, too, needed to show support. Amilton is going to inherit the throne one day, and the populace needs to see him as a strong, capable ruler." Zachary had adopted a dry, lifeless tone as he recited the familiar phrase that his father had drilled into him as a child.

"So they condoned the violence?"

"Condone is probably too strong a word. I doubt they ever encouraged Amilton, and they may have even discouraged him from time to time, but they mostly turned a blind eye to what was happening."

"How? You were family!"

Zachary shrugged, unable to give a good explanation for he did not understand their attitude either. They stood in silence for a few minutes before he finally continued. "As we got older, the fights got worse. Part of it was that Amilton was getting bigger and could thus do more damage, even though I was training with the sword—I still tended to avoid my brother rather than defend myself. I think things were also getting worse because as we got older, it became more obvious that Amilton's habit of not applying himself to his work meant that despite the age gap, I was actually better than him at certain things—figures, for example. And I was progressing fast enough in others such as sword work that he probably realized I would soon be better than him. And he was not the only one who noticed—by the time I was a teenager, people started asking for my advice and help instead of his. Even my father had started asking my opinion on certain petitions. And Amilton grew jealous."

"That makes no sense! He's the older son! He's going to inherit everything!"

Zachary shrugged. "Jealousy is not always rational." He took a deep breath, turning away from her for the next part of her story. He did not want to see her face when he told this particular tale, for he was afraid she would pity him. He did not want pity. "One day shortly after my fifteenth birthday, I had slipped away from my Weapons for a quiet stroll in the gardens. It was a habit of mine—I've always liked to be alone sometimes and my position afforded me precious few opportunities to do so, so I would sometimes engineer them.

Somehow, Amilton had discovered this particular habit, and he decided to use it to his advantage. I was in a quiet, less frequented corner of the garden when something hit me from behind. Honestly, I don't remember much after that until I woke up in the Mending Wing four days later. Apparently, he had beat me severely enough that they were afraid for awhile that I wouldn't recover. In fact, it was pure luck that one of the gardeners stumbled upon me when he did—fifteen minutes later, and I'm told I would have bled out.

Anyway, when my father visited me in the Mending Wing, he told me that once I was fully recovered, I would be going to Hillander to take over as Lord Governor. It's the only time I've ever seen him shaken. I think he hadn't quite realized until that point just what my brother was capable of—yes, he knew some of the beatings were bad, but I think that he always assumed that Amilton would stop before they were fatal. And so I packed my bags and left two weeks later, becoming the youngest acting Lord Governor in recorded history.

What my father didn't realize is that giving me that position actually amplified Amilton's jealousy. Suddenly, I had a more important position than him—yes, he will be king one day, but honestly, as crown prince, he was not really doing much and certainly not making the far-sweeping decisions that I was. But he also could not hurt me quite as readily while I was so far away. By the time I settled into governing and came back for my first counsel meeting, two years had passed. I had nearly earned the black band on my sword, I was equal to Amilton in size and strength, and I had gained quite a bit of confidence and was no longer content to let him bully me. And so when he came after me with a sword on my first night in the castle, I was ready and defeated him easily. He sulked off, and I thought that was that since Amilton does not like fighting those that could beat him, but I should have known better. He just stopped fighting me himself."

"And hired assassins instead?" Her tone was incredulous.

Zachary shrugged, his gaze still fixed on the horizon. "I think he sees me as the only real threat to his position. Or at least, that's what I've always told myself. Truthfully, I've begun to wonder if there's a darker, more sadistic reason. I was not the only one. . . " Zachary trailed off, deciding that perhaps he had said enough on the subject for one night. He was beginning to feel some of his old fears resurfacing, fears he thought he had suppressed long before. Taking a deep breath, he turned, searching Karigan's face for a reaction. Surprisingly, he did not see the one he most expected—pity. Instead, she was frowning, her brow creased in anger.

"I always knew I didn't really like Amilton but now, I. . ." She trailed off as if words were inadequate to describe her feelings for the crown prince. Zachary gave her a small smile, understanding the feeling well.

"I know," he said. "And thank you for listening and not pitying me."

"I just don't understand how your father could do nothing!" she exclaimed, her hands clenching into fists beside her hips. "I mean, you're his son! Surely he cares enough about you to step in and stop you from being nearly killed! He can't be so blind to what Amilton is doing, can he? And as for protecting him, you're so much better than Amilton could ever hope to be that I can understand his jealousy and—Mmpf!" Her words ended abruptly as Zachary leaned forward impulsively, pressing his lips to hers. Her eyes widened for a moment before her hands relaxed, reaching out for his hips to keep him close as they kissed. When Zachary finally pulled away, her eyes were closed.

"Thank you," she finally said. Zachary could not stop the short chuckle from escaping his lips, and she colored. "That's not. . . I mean. . . I'm sorry."

"On the contrary, I would rather have a beautiful woman thank me after kissing her than slap me," Zachary remarked. "In truth, I should be apologizing. I should not have been so forward as to make you uncomfortable."

"I'm not uncomfortable," she countered quickly.

"Still, I should have announced my intentions from the beginning."

Her blush deepened, but she pressed onward. "I knew what you intended."

"Well, nevertheless, it is only proper that I tell you that I, Zachary Hillander, am interested in courting you, Karigan G'ladheon, if you'll still have me after my rather rash actions."

"Is that even allowed? A Lord Governor and prince courting a commoner?"

"There is no law which expressly forbids it."

"Still, I can't imagine it will be the most popular decision."

"Fortunately, it is a decision between only two people, so we do not have to worry about its popularity."

"I just. . . I don't. . ."

Zachary smiled gently. "It is rather a lot to take in, I suppose. How about this? I leave tomorrow to return to Hillander and will not be back until the next Council meting in six months. Take the time to think on it and we can talk further then."

"How would this even work?" she questioned. "I'm a Green Rider, bound to king and castle, and you have to be in Hillander except for Council meetings."

"Do not worry about logistics. At this point, I simply want to know if you are interested in courting or not. We can worry about the details later."

"But there are rather . . . a lot of details."

"And we have plenty of time for those. Just promise me you won't dismiss the idea out of hand because you're worried about the politics of it?"

She hesitated briefly before nodding. "I promise."

"Good." He took her hand in his, pressing a warm, lingering kiss to the back of it. "We should probably start heading back soon. I fear we've already missed the supper bell." Karigan nodded, and the two mounted again and turned back to the stables. They were relatively quiet on the way back to the castle, for both had much to contemplate.