A/N: Any grammatical errors are my own. I'm pretty confident that I caught a lot of them after proofreading this chapter for the umpteeth time lol.

Hey, guys! Hope this chapter finds you well. I'm so happy to have this posted for you guys two days ahead of schedule! With work and school, I'm usually always booked solid, but I've had some unexpected free time this week so...hooray for small miracles!

I have to say, I adored writing this chapter so much. Not only is it the longest chapter, but I adored the interaction between Endymion and Serenity. :)

Thanks so much for the feedback you all! Favorite, comments, follows; they all mean so much to me! It definitely keeps me motivated to keep writing.

Until the next chapter,

-Dev

Next chapter will be posted: 3/29/24.

"...I break tradition
Sometimes my tries are outside the lines
We've been conditioned to not make mistakes
But I can't live that way..."
—"Unwritten" by Natasha Bedingfield

︵‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿︵

.:Serenity:.

The book of relics taunted me from its place on the nightstand. I'd ignored it ever since returning from the Borderlands Library the week before. The effects of Prince Endymion's charm had lessened over the course of the several-hours-long journey, and by the time I'd arrived home, suspicion had clouded my previously lax judgement, causing me to conclude that his behavior couldn't possibly be as genuine as it'd seemed.

I rubbed at the headache pulsing against my temples to stave off the pain resulting from my confusion. I'd long since grown weary of the inner battle that had raged every day since our encounter, between trusting the prince and fearing he was laying a careful trap.

Once more my gaze was drawn to the book, compelling me to open it, a longing that was growing more and more difficult to resist with each passing day. My suspicions were costing precious time. I'd spent months searching for information regarding the Relic of Abundance, and now that I'd finally found what I was looking for, I was ignoring it.

After a moment's hesitation, I picked up the book and examined the cover for any sign of poisons or spells. It looked entirely ordinary, unworthy of my reservations. Yet still I couldn't dispel my concerns.

I carefully flipped through it and startled when a note slipped from the pages. My name was scrawled across the front in handwriting I instinctively knew to belong to Prince Endymion. I stooped down to pick it up, handling it gingerly, as if it were poisoned. I hesitated a long moment, deliberating on the wisdom of reading a note from the enemy before curiosity compelled me to open it with shaking hands:

'Keep the book as long as you need. I hope it helps you to find what you're looking for.

-Endymion'

A short, simple message, yet for some reason it caused my heart to pound wildly.

It was impossible to construe it in a sinister way, no matter how many times I read it. He must have written it before, which meant he'd been planning on giving me the book the entire time, even before knowing I'd needed it. It only made everything all the more confusing.

Nothing about this puzzling exchange should be confusing. The fact that I was even tempted to find the prince sincere only confirmed the importance of not allowing this to continue any longer. I set my jaw and strode purposefully to my desk, tossing the note aside before searching for quill and ink with which to pen my response. But though my hand hovered over the parchment, poised to write the letter I knew needed to be sent, I couldn't find the words.

Princesses don't write their enemies.

Yet this argument lost its power considering the enemy in question behaved in a way opposite of what I'd expect from the enemy—one that was friendly and charming, with a manner that made me smile and left me feeling light in his presence.

I stared at the blank parchment, looking up at me almost tauntingly. Why was it so difficult to write a simple letter, especially one that was nothing more than a short, dutiful response to the kindness he'd paid me that protocol dictated I return, just as I would to any other royal or noble? Just because he happens to be from Elysion...

I refused to allow him to intimidate me. With a wavering breath, I squared my shoulders and began to write:

'Dear Prince Endymion,

I appreciate your generosity in lending me Relics: A History after acquiring it from the Borderlands Library. Its information has proven invaluable on my quest. However, the longer I retain it, the more uncomfortable I feel imposing on your kindness. It wouldn't do for me to allow Elysion the upper hand, nor would I want to be accused of stealing from your kingdom and thus risking invasion.

So, the time has come to return what is yours. I hope it proves as useful to you as it has been for me.'

My lips twitched. Considering it hadn't been at all useful to me, that was a wish I could offer with complete sincerity.

'Sincerely,

Your Determined Enemy,

-Princess Serenity of Clariness'

I signed my name with a flourish and set aside my quill to reread my message. So stiff and formal. For a brief moment I considered rewriting it before dismissing the idea with a rigid shake of my head. This was exactly the type of message I should send the prince. Anything else would be entirely inappropriate given our circumstances. Just because it was a contrast to the surprising warmth which had filled our previous interactions...

With another frustrated shake of my head, I hastily sealed the letter to send via secret courier before I could change my mind about rewriting it, or even about sending it at all. The sooner this entire arrangement was concluded, the sooner I could finally put the prince from my mind for good.

︵‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿︵

Prince Endymion's response arrived less than a week later, accompanied by the very same book I'd tried returning. I gaped at it in disbelief before tearing the letter open.

'Dear Princess Serenity,

Thank you for your letter and for your willingness to return something you believe belongs to me, but I'm afraid there's been a miscommunication. While it's true that I lent out this book, it was only ever a gesture meant for Serenity. I'm afraid I've not had the pleasure of meeting you, Princess, for you and I are supposedly enemies. However, I found Serenity to be someone I hope to become better acquainted.

I also find it difficult to believe a week is adequate time to obtain all of the information Serenity needs and thus conclude you felt compelled to return it on her behalf. I meant what I said in my first letter: keep the book for however long it is needed. I may be the enemy, but I'd like to think I'm a patient one. (And, might I remind you, aggravatingly charming.)

If you stubbornly insist on returning the book despite my generosity, Serenity may do so in person. Otherwise it is hers to keep for however long she wishes. Whenever she does return the book according to my conditions, please assure her she can do so without fear. Whatever transpired between our kingdoms so long ago has no bearings on us.

Sincerely,

-Endymion'

P.S. You should be aware that any letter addressed to this mysterious prince have the risk of becoming lost. I only stumbled upon this one through sheer ingenuity; a fascinating tale that hearing me recount will, with luck, endear you to me.'

I stared blankly at the letter, fighting not to smile despite him not being here to witness it. Perhaps I feared he'd somehow sense it through the words he'd penned, or that my parents would, even through the thick palace walls. I couldn't bear for them to learn of my betrayal to the duty I'd been raised to follow―one that seemed ridiculous in the face of Endymion's message, where his charm and sincerity seeped from the ink.

He could be toying with you.

But that fear was quickly losing its power, eclipsed by the joy that grew in my heart with each interaction. Whatever game we were playing, it was one I thoroughly enjoyed, and wanted to keep playing for as long as he was willing.

I hastened to my desk. My hands shook as they unstopped my inkwell, nearly spilling it in my hurry, not out of nerves but in my sudden eagerness to respond:

'To the mischievous Endymion,

I see the game you're playing and must warn you I'm a formidable opponent. To accuse me of stealing Princess Serenity's correspondence without any evidence...poor form. And then to bait me into responding? Yet another strike against your character. You will be displeased to note that stories of your ingenuity are not strong enough to lure an enemy princess into a false sense of security, though I welcome you to try.

Despite my best attempts, I confess I'm curious as to how you were able to come across a letter meant for the prince. Though, I suspect enchanted tarts and spying shrubbery might have come into play. However it happened, I commend you for succeeding in such a dangerous scheme, for rumor has it that the crown prince is a rather sneaky foe, though for all that is whispered about him, he's a rather poor assassin. Pity, really, since it would make him much more interesting.

You think I don't know the rules of this particular game, but I assure you that not only do I, but it's a game I play quite well. Will my opponent be up for the challenge? Only time will tell.

Your move, my formidable opponent.

Sincerely,

Princess Serenity'

The black ink glistened in the candlelight as I stared at the letter. I considered rewriting it even as I debated the wisdom of sending it at all. The teasing tone I'd used was far different than the serious one I should be engaging in with the enemy, just as playing along with his game seemed like an act of treason against the expectations outlined by my kingdom.

Yet the thought of hearing from Endymion was far more alluring than it ought to be, the promise of receiving a letter in return worth any risk. Before I could consider the matter further, I sealed the letter to give to my secret courier, and was left to wait with increasing anticipation for his response.

︵‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿︵

'Dear Serenity (who is this princess of whom you speak?),

It appears I've been found out, and my only conclusion as to how such a feat could be accomplished is that you're a spy, an identity that was compromised when a potted fern near my bedchamber door caught you lurking in an attempt to discover my secrets.

I'd hoped it wouldn't come to this, but unfortunately you leave me no choice: your mischievous actions have forced me to raise an army and invade. Such a shame, but pointless wars have been started over much less. But I'm an honorable prince and will offer you a chance to make peace. Perhaps we can come to some sort of agreement, otherwise it might be easier to kidnap you to stave off potential bloodshed.

If the kidnapping option is agreeable, I've already had the maids prepare the dungeon (also known as one of the guest chambers in the east wing), where you'll be held for ransom. It's filled with several books and relics, which I've acquired over the years, that you might find useful. I've been studying how to capture an enemy princess and am beginning to think that these might prove effective bait, but I'm open to other suggestions. In fact, I'm quite curious.

For that reason, I might be persuaded to call off this elaborate scheme for a bribe. I'm quite interested in getting to know this Serenity said to inhabit my enemy's castle. Perhaps you might be persuaded to humor me?

What is your favorite way to spend your time?

Ever Curious,

Not-Crown-Prince-Endymion'

︵‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿︵

'Dear Endymion (whom I now suspect is also a spy),

I see what you're up to―gathering information under the pretense of staving off an invasion. You're quite clever, appealing to my duty to protect Clariness in order to get your way. But blackmail is still blackmail, no matter how cleverly it's disguised.

Perhaps I can overlook such a dishonorable tactic and blame Prince Endymion for intercepting your letter before you had the chance to send it and being the one to write such offensive words. You continue to insist on not being the crown prince, yet I still require proof―proof beyond your word, that is.

You wish to know how I spend my time? Certainly you desire much knowledge for a reason beyond curiosity; you wish to discover my secrets so you can catch me unawares for your evil schemes. Well, it will not work.

Or, perhaps it shall, if you share information in exchange. Perhaps it can be a game, with the winner determined by whoever can use the information they've gathered to gain the upper hand first. Warning: it shall be me.

But let us still see how clever you are. I shall write two truths and a lie, you shall do the same, and we shall make it a game to discover which are true and which is false.

1. I'm quite the refined artist as well as an expert at needlepoint and spinning, domestic talents that would make me the ideal wife for any prince my parents see fit to arrange a match with.

2. Though I'm fond of all the pastimes expected of a princess, in particular I adore dancing and spend hours dreaming of the next ball I can attend. There's just something magical about dancing the night away in the arms of a dashing prince.

3. It has been said I have a talent for public speaking, and nothing gives me greater pleasure than to prepare a stirring speech and perform it in front of a large crowd. It is the aspect of my future role I'm most looking forward to—being a symbol my people can adore and admire.

Are you up for the challenge?

-Serenity'

︵‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿︵

'Dear Serenity,

While this isn't exactly how I'd imagined learning more about you, I never back down from a challenge. I'm curious about the details on how this new game of ours is played, but even without knowing the rules, and even if the only prize is gloating rights, I would still feel as if I'd won. I find myself growing increasingly curious about you and desire to learn more.

Before we begin, I feel compelled to complain that your kingdom is very good at stealing things from ours, and your talents are most unique, for you have managed to steal not one, not five, nor even ten, but fifteen precious minutes of my time, all the way from Clariness. I've been debating on whether or not to keep the last line of my previous paragraph, as well as why I even wrote it. I'm afraid I don't have an answer, so you likely stole that, too. Quite thorough, Serenity. I commend you.

And there goes another ten minutes of distraction. Your talents are legendary. This letter is taking far too long—though somehow not long enough. I admit it's a welcome distraction from something weighing heavily on my mind from my most recent interaction with my father, but that's of little consequence.

I've delayed your game long enough and will now venture a guess: none of your statements are true (but I would argue you're likely far more adept at public speaking than you give yourself credit for).

I confess I'm rather disappointed. I can only assume your reasoning for such a devious trick is because you have yet to trust me, so perhaps your next letter can include a detailed plan on how I can more fully gain said trust since my fumbled attempts are clearly not working, though not for lack of want or trying.

Until you write factual statements, I refuse to play the game in return. And you're certainly curious about me, aren't you?

Please say yes.

-Endymion'

I found myself grinning girlishly as I read this particular letter from Endymion, lingering on each adorably awkward sentence before my smile faltered. Wait, he couldn't mean… I read the letter again, this time more slowly, focusing on each word of every sentence. My cheeks heated as one possible interpretation for his words settled over me. Was he…interested?

Surely not.

Whatever this was…it certainly wasn't that.

Flustered, I picked up my quill to pen my response, doing my best to ignore the way my heart suddenly flared at the thought of writing him back.

'Dear Endymion,

I confess you're more clever than I expected. As a reward, I shall give you fresh statements in hopes you'll return the favor; curiosity, I'm coming to find, is contagious, and you have rudely infected me with some of yours. Poor form, Endy, to wield such an effective tool against me without even the decency to warn me. But I suppose it's to be expected of the enemy.

Without further delay, my statements:

1. While most women of nobility learn to play the harp or pianoforte, I've always been drawn to the violin and can spend hours immersed in practice. The music helps me clear my mind, especially after hours spent in tedious meetings or going over reports. Playing rejuvenates my spirit so I can better perform the duties expected of me.

2. I have a window box garden I keep on my sill. With every change in season I look forward to growing the flowers that bloom only in that season. I also take great satisfaction in growing fresh herbs, which I then give to the cook. Nothing is more satisfying that eating a dish seasoned with something I grew myself. (And before you accuse me as I know you want to, no, I don't grow anything poisonous. Perhaps your thoughts veered towards that accusation considering it's what you, as an assassin, would be tempted to grow.)

3. One of my fondest pastimes is riding. I spend hours in the saddle. Most of my rides take me through the woods. There's something so peaceful about being surrounded by trees, away from the prying eyes and expectations of court, and I never tire of exploring in hopes of discovering more of the woods' mysteries.

As I await your own, I confess my imagination is having quite the time coming up with possible predictions about what your statements will be. The one I'm currently favoring is that your favorite pastime is to dwell in your evil lair—which is naturally the dungeon, which smells strongly of strawberry tarts, of all things—contemplating how to kidnap innocent princesses, all while consulting your minions of potted plants. Most devious.

-Serenity'

︵‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿︵

'...All three statements are so fascinating I find myself hoping that this time, rather than all of your statements being false, they're all true. Do tell me I'm right, for I never object to strokes to my ego that I'm a rather clever prince. Forgive me, I've forgotten that I'm only posing as a prince and am not royal at all. Thus, simply saying I'm clever will do nicely.

I do like the picture you've created of my evil lair. It's true I have a "lair" of sorts, though it contrasts the image you've construed about the villain you believe me to be. Since you're undoubtedly eager for details, I will share them (for generosity is another of my many commendable traits): I do spend a considerable amount of time in one room in particular and as such have quite the army at my disposal, just as you so accurately surmised. But rather than plants, they are of the written variety. As we've previously discussed, books make very effective weapons.

I would love to share more details with you, Sere, but only if you share in return. You see, our kingdom isn't averse to a bribe; my father trained me well.

-Endy'

︵‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿︵

'…Very well, they're all true. Now send your own statements or else I will forever believe Elysion to be a kingdom that doesn't keep its word. Telling me you spend most of your time in the library only constitutes as one fact, not three, as I gave you, making me the more generous one of this strange relationship of ours. Perhaps the poor prince never learned to count?

-Sere'

︵‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿︵

'…I was going to find a way to toy with you further—a fitting revenge considering you've been quite the toyer yourself—but I understand the pangs of curiosity, having suffered them greatly with each of our letter exchanges, so here are my own:

1. I, too, enjoy gardens, but rather than growing my own plants, I spend hours strolling the palace grounds, not just for their beauty but for the solace they provide, for I often find the need to escape the palace's confining walls. My books often accompany me, for reading seems much less lonely amongst my plant minions than within the library, where it can often feel as if the walls are closing in on me.

2. You admit to finding meetings and reports a tedious past time, but I take great interest in both. I find the intricate logistical details of ruling fascinating and can spend many happy hours going over facts and figures and pondering ways to improve the lives of my people. Unfortunately, my advice is rarely heeded by Father, for until I inherit the crown, he seems to see me more as a figurehead than an actual leader. I dream of the day I can finally implement my ideas, though there are many moments when such a time feels so far away I wonder if it'll ever come.

3. I have a weakness for entertaining my sister, though I could never confess to her how much I enjoy playing even the most tedious of games. Thankfully, her days of tea parties with her dolls have evolved to pastimes that are slightly more interesting, which include a variety of board games. I'm a rather clever player…unless I'm playing against her, and then I suddenly become most dismal, simply because I can't resist her smile when she wins—but I shall pay you the most costly bribe to never tell her.

I'd come up with some rather ingenious false statements as per the rules of our game—before you broke those very rules. So typical of someone from Clariness, but I shall forgive you considering I not only liked getting an additional true statement, but somehow find I don't want to lie to you about anything concerning myself.

I wonder why that is?

-Endy

I found myself reading Endymion's most recent letter with an eagerness that frightened me. But even as it satisfied some of my ever-growing curiosity, I somehow found myself not only disappointed by its brevity, but even more curious. I perused his letter several times more, as if I could find additional meaning hidden in the shape of his loopy handwriting and the spaces between his words.

I could always ask for additional information, but then he'd know I wanted more. But what did that matter if I got what I desired? I fought against my stubbornness that didn't want to give him the satisfaction, but curiosity soon proved much stronger. There was no hope for it; I'd have to ask if I wanted any semblance of peace.

︵‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿︵

'…I received your letter upon finishing a meeting, one that took hours and proved to be most tiresome. So to immediately read about how you actually enjoy such tedium, you couldn't have chosen a better time for your letter to arrive, both to mock me and to provide a much-needed respite.

I won't write that I admire your sentiments—it wouldn't do to flatter the enemy in such a way—but your attitude concerning such matters is something I strive for. Perhaps I'd find greater joy in my duties if they brought less stress, but such a wish seems impossible thanks to our kingdom's current circumstances. The drought is only growing worse; despite it being early spring, we've had little rain to speak of.

I'm sorry to hear your father doesn't listen to you. If it's any consolation, there is also difficulty in having a parent who listens too much, as my Mother does. She often seeks advice in matters I'm still striving to gain experience in, all in her quest to provide that very necessary experience I lack. The road to becoming queen can be quite arduous. All the more reason I found joy in your letter, a moment I could be just Serenity rather than a princess.

Suffice it to say your statements proved very interesting and have given me much to think about, but I still find myself disappointed. Is that all there is to know about the enemy? I confess the not knowing is driving me to distraction, something I couldn't afford today as I spent the afternoon studying more about my kingdom and my future role. Elysion is quite the formidable foe in disrupting my peace.

-Sere'

︵‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿︵

'I sent just as much as there is to know about the enemy prince. You created this game, and I'm simply playing according to the rules you dictated. However, I'm certainly willing to negotiate the terms. A statement per letter seems a satisfactory agreement, wouldn't you say?'

-Endy'

︵‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿︵

And that's what we did. The letter exchange continued, one per week, each ending in a question to give one another the excuse to respond, before this practice eventually faded once we came to an unspoken agreement to continue the correspondence regardless. The longer the letters continued, the more I realized how much they had come to mean to me, and I sensed Endymion felt the same.

Between each response, I tried to convince myself to end this forbidden correspondence, only for my arguments to fade the moment another letter arrived and I found myself drawn to him all over again. I grew to anticipate each letter and soon lost track of just how many we'd exchanged. However many there were, somehow it was never enough.

I wasn't sure when the tone of our correspondence shifted—one moment we were playing a game, and the next it was no longer a game at all but something much deeper. Soon I found myself confiding in Endymion, telling him things I'd never told anyone, only for him to do the same.

︵‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿︵

'…Do you ever feel as if your life is scripted, and rather than being an active participant you're only playing a part? And no matter how desperate you are to change the story you're trapped in, the words and chapters continue to be written by someone else, with no way for you to take control?

This feeling became more acute than usual this past week when my intended visited. Due to the threats against our kingdom, my parents are eager to create an alliance that will stabilize us, so they have set their sights on Prince Daedric of Ettinsmoor. The prince is amiable—though he seems rather shy. We've yet to find much in common between us; a task that would be easier if he talked more.

Rather than pursue my own interests this week, I felt the constant pressure not only to entertain him but to like him. Despite him seeming likable enough, I'm struggling to create the emotions that would make the duty before me somewhat more bearable. Yet even if I don't, compatibility doesn't seem to be a consideration in political matches—compatibility between kingdoms is all that is considered. In truth, he seems much better suited to my shy younger sister, Faline, but his kingdom is interested in their son becoming king and won't even look her way.

He finally left yesterday. Your letter was a much-needed respite in an otherwise tedious week, and for that I must thank you. I suppose some good comes from Elysion after all, even if it is only via secret courier.

-Sere'

︵‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿︵

'...You have an intended, and it's Prince Daedric? If you wanted to assassinate me via shock, you have quite succeeded. In fact, the one responding to your alarming letter is not Endymion at all but his ghost, the former having suffered a nasty heart attack upon receiving your news. Who knew words could be such an effective weapon?

Prince Daedric?

I don't like him. I don't quite have a reason (believe me, I'm frantically trying to articulate my dislike into words strong enough to dissuade you from this path, and am rather frustrated I don't have anything of worth to offer...but trust me, I will find some), I just know that I don't.

-Endy'

‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿︵

'…Why are you so shocked to learn Prince Daedric is my intended? Political matches are common amongst royalty. You certainly have one, too...don't you? Who is it? What do you think of her?

Strangely, I find myself quite anxious to know.

-Sere'

‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿︵

'…Unfortunately, there is a match in the works for me as well, with Princess Beryl of Nemeth—unsurprising considering she is not just royal but magical. Can you imagine how my father would abuse his power if it extended to include her magic? I confess she is one of many stresses in my life (as if the daily pressure from him and my royal duties weren't enough). We've only met twice and I would not be at all disappointed if we never met again, which is surely not a feeling on which to build a marriage. But Father will undoubtedly have his way and I will likely find myself strapped to her forever. Such is the fate of a prince.

Strangely, what I was simply disinterested in before...I find myself suddenly quite averse to.

I beg you: let us discuss something—anything—other than our upcoming prison sentences.

-Endy'

‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿︵

'…I will gladly cease speaking of this unpleasant topic, save for the somewhat assuring fact that my marriage seems unlikely to happen considering my parents are waiting for me to first acquire a relic—after all, it wouldn't do to spend the early part of my marriage gallivanting across the kingdoms in search of one—but despite you generously lending me that book, I'm having no luck with the quest.

Information on the Relic of Abundance seems impossible to come by; I'm finding so little that I'm beginning to question whether it actually exists, or if it's merely the stuff of legends—if it does exist, it seems to have disappeared. Most of its history I've managed to research has yielded no results; I'm beginning to fear it's in Briarvale, in which case I shall never find it—for I could never venture into a kingdom trapped in eternal night for risk tainting Clariness with its curse upon my return. As if my kingdom needs another difficulty to face.

Have you finally decided which relic to pursue? You seem to be having a difficult time.

-Sere'

‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿︵

'…I have long since concluded to acquire the relic that would be most effective in earning the good favor of enemy princesses. Considering you fit that category, I'm hoping to gather ideas from you.

...any word from Prince Daedric? I confess I keep awaiting the news that he's suffered some terrible demise. I'm generous and at least imagine him perishing in a noble way, my most recent daydream being an unfortunate fiery accident while he's slaying a dragon to earn your favor. A heroic, noble death, how fitting for a prince...but a death all the same, a thought which sounds more appealing than it ought. I'm still convinced he's a scoundrel. You deserve far better.

But I doubt slaying dragons would earn your favor. I'm still curious what would. Care to share your secrets?

-Endy'

‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿︵

'…Why your interest in Prince Daedric? I haven't heard from him since his visit. We're encouraged to correspond, yet we have to exchange a single letter. Instead I find myself writing you, and part of me is still confused as to how this happened, yet I'm enjoying our letters too much to stop. Though, when the time comes for us to fulfill our arranged marriages, I suppose they'll be forced to come to an end, a thought I will not let myself consider.

You're right that the thought of anyone risking their well-being for me by facing a dragon isn't at all appealing. I'm sure anyone can earn my favor through such shallow means; I would only be wooed by a connection forged over time.

Though I am beginning to become tempted to marry anyone if they can help me find this relic, while at the same time I'm desperate to delay acquiring one for as long as possible considering it is the only thing currently keeping me from my arranged marriage.

Yet my aversion to the match is nothing to my desire to prove myself, not only to my people but to my parents. I want to be an heir worthy of their regard rather than feel I'm an imposter posing as a princess. To think one day I'll actually be a queen in my own right? How could such a title possibly be my future when I feel I've scarcely mastered my role now?

I desperately want to be a good queen for my people and serve them to the best of my ability, a task that feels impossible when I can't even acquire a simple relic. Yet despite the difficulty, I'm determined to succeed, somehow, both for myself and for all those who've placed such high expectations upon me.

I know my parents love me, but sometimes I feel they only see me as their heir, a title that eclipses the fact that I'm also their daughter. I feel so much pressure to measure up and I hate disappointing them; something I fear I've done many times, and not just them but also my people. And most of all, myself. In these moments I only see myself as the heir. If I can't see beyond my title, how can someone else?

Who is Serenity? Does she exist, or is there only Princess Serenity, a woman swallowed up entirely by a crown?

-Sere'

‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿︵

'Having never met Princess Serenity, I can assure you that Serenity exists. I'm coming to find that she is a remarkable woman. There are many things I admire about you—your intelligence, your ability to care for others, your kindness—bust most of all, you have a special gift to make others smile. I've never smiled more than when I'm with you, in letter form or otherwise.

But I understand your feelings, for I feel the same, though my title doesn't just come with a crown but with expectations on how to wear it. Because I'm the heir of a king shrouded in so much darkness, people see me as a reflection of that image. The path I'm expected to walk is already laid out, yet it's one I want nothing more than to avoid. But can I forever? I fear with the throne one day I'll inherit I can never by my own person.

In truth, I'm frightened of my father, but nowhere near as frightened as I am to become someone so cold. But what if it's inevitable? Is Prince Endymion just like his father, and if not yet, will he become such one day?'

A huge space filled the page between this paragraph and the sentence scrawled at the very end of the parchment.

'I don't want to lose myself.

-Endy'

His earnest message affected my heart in strange ways each time I reread it. It took me a long time to find the words to respond, and in the end I could only assure him:

'…You could never lose yourself to become someone as cold as your father.'

-Sere'

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'…Thank you, Sere. Your faith means more to me than you know.'

-Endy'

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From here over the course of several more months, our conversations grew even deeper. We talked of everything and nothing at all―from sharing childhood memories to discussing our fears, hopes, and dreams. The spaces between our letters became more difficult to endure, while the joy I felt upon receiving a new one increased with each letter, an emotion that was becoming more difficult to hide from my parents considering they didn't know the reason for it. The secrecy only reminded me how forbidden this all was.

Whenever I waited for a new letter to arrive I found myself rereading his old ones, imagining what I'd write in my next, or just thinking of him for seemingly no reason at all. He quickly began to occupy most of my thoughts, each one accompanied by a deepening feeling I refused to examine.

With each word he penned an understanding formed between us, different than anything I'd ever experienced. I didn't pause to analyze it, too afraid of what I'd discover if I did. I wanted nothing―least of all something like sense―to risk what we'd created; it'd become too precious.

One day I received a letter different than the rest. The beginning was much the same―filled with depth, humor, and all the things I'd come to expect in our forbidden correspondence―but the ending...

There was a large blank space filled with nothing but several splotches of ink, as if he'd held his quill poised above the page, deep in thought, for a long time before penning the words:

'If you're agreeable to the idea, I'd very much like to meet with you. Please.'

He said nothing more, simply signed his name more sloppily than usual, as if in haste to seal the letter before he could change his mind about its contents.

It was good there was nothing more to the letter; I doubted I'd have been able to read it. I stared, transfixed, at his request.

My heart hammered as the implications of what I was doing settled over me. For weeks, months, I'd been purposely avoiding fully thinking about what this letter exchange was and who it was with, not when it'd become so precious, but now...

I traced my finger over the cursive scrawl of his signature even as my gaze took in first his words, then his other letters stacked beside me, well worn from how frequently I reread them. A feeling tugged on my heart, urging me to examine it, but I forced it away, unable to even consider how far I'd allowed this to go.

Words on a page were one thing, but to meet...no, I couldn't. I wouldn't. I picked up a fresh page of parchment in order to firmly tell Endymion just that, but the words wouldn't come. I sat for a long time, silently, urging myself to write the words I knew needed to be said, even as I tried to convince myself that this needed to be our last letter. Yet, I couldn't.

I was in too deep, so much so that I no longer cared that what had been transpiring between us was forbidden. I didn't want to take the path expected of me, one forced by the traditions of our kingdoms―I wanted to create my own. And though I had no way of knowing exactly where it would lead, all that mattered was Endymion was on this path with me, a man who had become more dear to me than I could have ever imagined. The thought of ever writing him again...

An unexpected pang pierced my heart, but it was nowhere near as powerful as the joy that enfolded it at the thought of not just receiving more of his sweet words but of actually seeing him. I wanted to meet with him, more than I'd ever wanted anything. No matter what had led to this point, this was where I currently stood. There was no turning back.

I penned a single word:

'Yes.'

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à suivre...