He doesnt recognize where he is. Truthfully, he'd slipped into the village the previous night with a simple candle, finding shelter in the barn of someone's home. He had been delirious, having been sleep deprived for several days. He was pretty sure he was also dehydrated and fighting off heatstroke, but those weren't particularly on the top of his priority list to take care of.

The first priority he had was to find somewhere to settle until he could make a more sound-proof plan, the second was to get rid of her. It had been three weeks since he left the Kingdom of Cinder, and she was still on his trail.

Originally, he'd thought she was nothing more than a mere guard. She never really stood out to him before, seeing as she blended in with the crowd pretty well. Of course, she had to have been one of the kingdom's best-trained assassins; and she was after his head now.

He thought maybe he'd be wanted back alive, but that wasn't the case anymore, was it? He was a traitor to the Kingdom of Cinder, and a murderer, at that. If he were to ever be caught, he'd be hung for his crimes.

It was far too late to turn back now.

When he'd rolled himself out of the hay bale he'd fallen asleep in, sticky and sweaty, he realized two things. One, he'd overslept, and two he didn't just wake up because his body was ready. There were footsteps coming from somewhere behind him.

Pulling himself up onto his knees, he reached for his belongings, his right hand grasping around his crossbow while his left floundered around the handle of his sword.

"Hello?" he'd called out, turning his head swiftly in the dark barn. "Who's there?"

A feminine giggle was his response as the clicking of their footsteps came closer. "You're not looking so good, Soul," The voice called out, "I bet you want to go back home, don't you? Back where it's cool, back where you have thousands of servants caring for your every whim. Kind of sucks youre just a fucking selfish brat, doesnt it?"

He dropped the crossbow, focusing his attention to his sword. "Medusa," He called out, his eyes searching frantically in the dark barn. "Come out."

"And what, fight you?" Sneered Medusa. "God, look at you. I could probably sit on you and your lungs would give out. Just admit it, your soft little ass wasn't prepared for this."

Soul got to his feet, bettering his grip onto the handle of his sword. He knew Medusa was right, he was in no state to fight. His legs were wobbling, his fingers barely having enough strength to keep his sword up. He didn't care though, he'd rather go out giving a fight than to just die.

"You have no idea what it was like living in that position." His voice is shaky as he turns himself around, scanning the entirety of the barn around him. "I did what was best for everyone. If I had stayed, you wouldn't even be able to comprehend the amount of destruction that would have followed." He paused, stumbling over his words as he swallowed down his pride. "It wasn't all happiness and sunshine for their kid. You and I aren't much different- we're just two pawns they're using for their own game."

Silence.

There's no footsteps, no reply, no nothing. He stands there in agonizing anxiety for what seems like hours, waiting, waiting for something to happen.

When something does happen, he wasn't expecting a body to leap at him, taking the both of them to the ground in a heap. A horrid wheeze escapes him, causing his already scratchy throat to burn. He struggles against their grip, watching through what little light seeped through the cracks in the barn as his sword was thrown against the floor haphazardly.

"We're not alike at all," Medusa hisses from above him, her knees pushing against his ribs bruisefully, "You're just a bitch that couldn't handle the heat when it came down to it. You're a damn coward for what you did to Kid. For leaving. You were that kingdom's last hope, and this is how you repay them?"

Hands pressed against his jugular, fingernails scraping against the sides of his neck.

"For once, I don't feel bad for having to kill someone."

What a way to go out, he thought, as Medusa pressed her palms to his throat and pushed hard enough for his vision to sway with white. He weakly pushed against her arms, trying his hardest in his compromised state to save himself, but he couldn't. The harder he fought against her, the harder she pushed.

Blood was rushing to his face. He could hear his fast-beating heart in his ears. His throat kept burning, the pain from it circling through his body.

He vaguely thought through his attempts to gasp at whatever air he could, that dying right now would be easier than fighting anymore. He wouldn't have to worry anymore about the kingdom he'd abandoned and all of its people. He wouldn't have to worry about the wrath his parents had planned out for him. He wouldn't have to keep running from Medusa anymore.

He wouldn't have to feel guilty for murdering the only person who gave a single shit about him and his happiness.

Maybe that was the thought that willed him to stop fighting against her. Maybe he thought that he could die in peace finally, that he could escape the overwhelming guilt that was looming over him like a dark cloud. Maybe he thought life would just be better on the other side.

It's sad, really, how quick he was ready to accept death. Every second that Medusa choked him out, he thought about what little he had left to live for, and nothing came to his mind. His vision was turning black quickly. He wanted to smile and thank Medusa for putting him out of his misery, he really did.

He never got the chance to, thankfully.

Suddenly there was a loud sound he couldn't make out and a rush of air hit him like a truck. As if he'd been struck with lightning, he sat himself up, his hands flying to his throat as he choked through uneven breaths. His vision and hearing came back slowly, and he'd quickly realized that a pair of unfamiliar feet were standing in front of him and the barn door had been opened.

"Are you alright, child?" A man's voice called to him. He couldn't answer for a moment. He'd tried, obviously, but he failed when all but a croak left his throat. "Angela, fetch him some water."

But a moment later, a kind looking child was bent in front of him, pressing a jug of water to his lips. "What's your name?" She'd asked, pulling the jug from his hands gently, scared he may drown in the water if he kept chugging it the way he was.

"Solomon," He replied, his voice hoarse. His eyes flickered from the girl, Angela, to the man who stood behind her, who had been wearing a green cloak. Looking around them, he finally found Medusa, who was out cold on the floor at the man's feet.

"Who are you?" The man questioned, unsheathing a sword. His eyes widened at the sight of the well-forged sword. The people had just saved him from dying, what was the point of lying.

"I'm a runaway, from the Kingdom of Cinder," He replied, not taking his eyes away from the tip of the man's sword.

"Who is she?" He followed up, pointing the tip of his sword to Medusa's head.

"Her name is Medusa," he replied, watching as the man poked her head lightly, "She's a Cinder assassin, she's after my head."

"How long has she been chasing you, kid?"

"A month, at most," He answered. "I've been trying to get her off my tracks for a while."

The man sizes him up, his eyes practically boring into his soul. He sheaths his sword, stepping forward and motioning for Angela to stand. "Lucky for you, I hate government workers and the Kingdom of Cinder," He chuckled dryly, "I don't even blame you for leaving that shit hole. Where are you trying to go?"

"I don't know. I left without that big of a plan." Sou replied truthfully.

The man nodded, crouching before him. "There's a kingdom far north from here, one of the only kingdoms that still has gates and walls surrounding it, okay? You won't be able to miss it. The Kingdom of Eibon will take you in as one of their own." The man is talking quickly, just above a whisper, but Soul is hanging onto every single last word he has to say. "I have a friend there that will vouch for you to stay, okay? He's a guard, his name is Stein. If you get there, and you somehow find him, tell him Mifune sent you."


Soul stands in the corner of one of the many meeting rooms, once again. A woman he doesnt recognize seeing before sits at Maka's side, flipping through a large book with her. They've been going over set up and designs for the party for hours now, and honestly, Soul was over it. He was grateful that in a week's time, he wouldn't have to sit through these long boring meetings.

"So, color schemes…" The woman clicked her tongue, flipping through several pages before spreading them flat onto the table. "Here are a few to pick through. The first one may not be much your style, but the other four may?"

Maka pauses, squinting at the pages laid before her.

"If none of these are suitable though, we can figure something else out, your highness!"

Maka nods, looking up. She meets eyes with Soul for the first time in hours, clearing her throat. "Soul," she addressed, waving him over. "Give me your opinion on these."

The woman beside her stills, sinking back into her chair with a confused look. Soul gives her a once over before he makes his way to Maka's side, his hand tucked behind the small of her back.

Before him lay five pages of ballrooms, each decorated in different colors. The first image is a mix between pink and white curtains, accented with bright yellow lights. The second and third are both mundane and simple, each hanging dark red curtains with different colored chandelier lights. The fourth has a mix of deep royal blue curtains with golden accents, white hanging lights accompanying them. The last image doesn't really catch Soul's eyes, as it's just a very simple set up he's seen in any basic ballroom.

"The fourth image is a mix of blue and gold accents…" Maka drifts off, pointing towards the third image.

"The gold accents. I like the hanging lights." Soul comments, noticing the woman sitting beside Maka tense.

Maka picks up the fourth image, waving it towards Soul. "Would it seem like my style?" She turns in her seat lifting her head to face Soul. Soul doesn't miss the way she lifts an eyebrow simply, a small smile curling on her face; and he is seriously starting to hate himself for noticing every small detail like that.

"I would think so," He answers, shrugging.

Maka squints up at him, her smile only growing wider. "Uh-huh. I'm trusting you on this decision, Soul." The Princess turns from him, handing the image to the woman with a smile. "This will be our pick, it looks like!"

She laughed, plucking the picture from her hands with care. "I think its a very good pick, your highness. Looks like your guard has good taste."

"I would hope he does, he's my guard, after all."

Soul ignores the heat that rises to his cheeks as he returns back to his spot in the corner of the room.

That comment didn't need to mean anything if he didnt want it to.


For the second night in a row, Soul sits on Maka's balcony, watching as the last rays of sunlight disappear behind the mountains. It was another chilly night but he wasn't surprised, it was almost November after all. Maka followed him out onto the balcony not long after he'd settled down, already dressed in her clothes for the night. She brought out another blanket, settling on the ground beside Soul before wrapping the blanket around the both of them.

"Is this okay?" The Princess ased, timidly.

Soul couldn't help the laugh that escaped him. "Yes, its fine, you idiot." There's a fondness in his tone that he knows reaches Maka, but there's no way he could take it back now.

"Avoiding going back to the guard's quarter's once again?"

Soul doesn't bother to shift his gaze from the mountains as he nods. "That obvious?"

"Kind of," Maka hummed. "How is Blackstar and Kilik? Is everything okay with you guys?" She paused, shifting closer against his side. "Kilik didn't seem too happy with you the other day."

Soul's almost a bit shocked that Maka even remembered their names, let alone picked up on his interaction with Kilik the other day. "Things are okay, I guess," He replied shyly, hiking uis shoulders up.

He had been avoiding Blackstar. It wasn't because he was mad at him or anything, that was definitely not it. He just knew he couldn't hide things well from Blackstar, and God, if he caught onto the fact that Soul was thinking about befriending Maka once again, he may as well just beat the hell out of him again.

"Trying to avoid another altercation with them. Blackstar hasn't been all that happy with my actions lately." He elaborates.

Maka seems to catch his drift. "Did Blackstar figure it out? About you taking me out, that is."

Thoughtlessly, Soul raised his fingers to his chin, tracing the almost healed wound that had been there. "Yeah, let's just say he was pretty pissed with me."

They sit in silence for a moment longer, watching the last reminiscences of sunlight dissipate.

Soul fiddles with his fingers, pulling at the leather cladded gloves around his palms. Thinking back to Blackstar, he can't help but remember the night he'd basically attacked him, shouting that Maka was anything but good news. Maybe it wasn't Maka who was the issue, maybe it was just him. Just like Maka had pointed out the other day, he was the worst guard she'd ever had. He let her get away with so much- too much. Any good royal guard would have stopped Maka from crossing the boundaries of just simple acquaintances. Any good guard would have called the whole guard on her for sneaking out.

He couldn't help but think back onto his previous life- couldn't stop himself from thinking of him. The only person who made him feel human in a prison. He wasn't a bad person- he'd crossed so many damn lines that they didn't even exist anymore, and yet, he was still the best damn guard Soul had ever met.

"I dont think im all that good of a royal guard," He comments, turning his head just the slightest so he could make Maka's form out at his side. "They kind of threw me into this position without any training. I've crossed too many lines between us." He pauses motioning to where they were sitting now.

"I don't even think I'm supposed to be here right now, with you."

Maka's eyes are on him, steady and unnerving.

"I crossed too many lines too," She admits, shrugging. "I don't see a problem with it."

There's a nudge at his wrist. Looking down, Soul watched as Maka hesitantly wrapped her hand around his slightly exposed wrist, giving it a squeeze before she slipped her hand down, their palms meeting. More confidently, Maka took his gloved hand into her exposed hand, their fingers interlocking.

They fit perfectly together, he thought.

"I enjoy your company, Soul. I meant it when I said I don't care about formalities. I would much rather be friends with you than keep you at arm's length and treat you like a disposable part of my life." Heat rises to Souls face for the second time that day. He doesn't dare to look up, his eyes trained on their interlocked hands.

"My last guard and I didnt have any sort of friendship, and I regret it." Maka suddenly admits, gripping his hand a little harder. "I tried being their friend, but they were a very formal person. Very strict with boundaries and what-not. It seemed like they couldn't have cared less about me-which was fine, I never expected them to genuinely care? It was just their job, to look after me, after all."

The Princess finally loosens her grip on his hand.

"They were the only other person I got to interact with around the castle that weren't Kim or my parents. The servants have always been so timid around me and events don't happen a lot around here. I wish that Crona and I had the opportunity to actually meet, without any sort of facade. I wish I got to know why they just left without saying anything."

Maka clears her throat, whispering an apology before she takes Soul's hand in both of her hands, which are surprisingly warm. Startled, Soul looks up, finally meeting eyes with Maka.

"Crona's disappearance made me realize how temporary things are, how temporary this whole 'royal and regal' thing really is. Even before they left I already had my own doubts about becoming the Queen one day… But the whole situation solidified the fact that life was so short and could change in an instant. After they left I sat there for a whole and just thought about where they could have gone- thought about all the stories I've read and how different the world was in each of them. After that, I said fuck it, might as well leave too."

"When the royal advisor told me I had to pick a new guard, he gave me a list of names I never recognized. I mulled over it for hours, sitting on the balcony. I'm pretty sure it was right after one of your stations was over because you were walking back towards the castle from the gates- and honestly, I did recognize you as the guard that had been beyond the gates before. I just made my decision from there, thinking you'd be the one that would change things," She pauses, finally taking a deep breath.

"I'm really sorry for using you the way I did, Soul. I'm also sorry for whatever the hell that tangent was too- but, I think the point still stands that I think you could change things for me."

Soul's mind is racing as Maka leans closer to him, pressing her forehead against his armored shoulder.

"You're giving me hope that I actually can make friends within these walls."

They sit there for a moment longer in silence before Soul can pull himself together enough to actually form a coherent sentence.

"I think that's the most I've ever heard you say at once."

Whatever tension had previously been lingering in the air between them breaks as Maka laughed like she'd sprung a leak-timid at first before stopping and starting again.

"Thanks, Soul. You have such a way with words," Maka grumbles into his armor as she pinches his palm hard enough to make him flinch.

"Why thank you, your highness," He laughs out as he props his chin on top of Maka's head. "You know, I was thinking of becoming a poet before I joined the guards."

"Really?" Maka lifts her head just the slightest, her tone sounding serious.

"No, what the fuck."

The two erupted into a fit of laughter.

Maybe it was that moment that something finally shifted between them. Maybe it was that moment that something finally clicked in Soul's head.

Either way, Soul knew he was in big trouble.

"But seriously, Maka, I'm glad that I can give you a little bit of hope."