"Oh, this can't be happening," Willow whispered into the crook of his neck.
"How many times have you said that in your life?" he asked, a ghost of a smile on his face.
"I mean it this time! Well, yeah, okay, I meant it all those other times too, but it doesn't make it any less valid just because it's the most recent in a string of many similar such-"
"I know," he cut her off, tightening his grip around her waist.
"I don't want to watch you go. You're the one thing that has kept me sane, made me sure that I'm not just some princess with a strange and oddly inventive form of amnesia. I don't want to watch you get on your horse and leave."
"I don't want to get on my horse and leave. I want my father to choke on his own bitterness, I want the war to be declared null and void, and I want to take you back to bed for the rest of the week."
"Why do we have to be noble?" Willow asked in an exasperated voice. "The majority of the world, this one and the old one, is filled with people who don't care about doing the right thing. Selfish people, who never need to think twice about doing what they want to do. I wish we could be them, just for a little while."
"No, you don't," Angel whispered in her ear, sending shivers down her spine.
"No, I don't," she replied. "I just want you to stay."
He kissed her then, because he knew that his words could make nothing better. He kissed her like a husband should, possessing and freeing her at the same time, making her his and something more all at once. It cannot be said that either of them had ever been brought up to think too much of marriage. His parents had fought constantly, and he had been raised to treat women as his playthings. Willow's parents had never been affectionate, with her or one another. But all at once, in the power of one farewell kiss, they each understood what matrimony really was. One mind and one flesh while remaining two vibrant individuals. One love and two promises.
"I'll store that up," he gasped as they broke apart. "I'll keep that kiss for cold and lonely nights. I'll give you that kiss every time I dream. That kiss will bring me back." He buried his face in her hair one last time, memorizing her scent and the feeling of holding her close.
He broke off suddenly, knowing that one moment more would have made him stay. He walked away as quickly as he could, every step carrying him too far. At the door he turned, gazing at her one more time.
"I love you," he promised.
"I love you too," she echoed.
And then the Prince was gone.
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Marie had said goodbye to Garwin quickly, making sure all his needs were provided for before kissing his cheek and retreating back into the palace. As he looked at his saddlebags, however, he found a letter tucked into one of the pockets. Opening the seal, he absently stroked the horse's flank as he read his mother's delicate handwriting.
'Dear Garwin,
There have been times when I have cursed fortune and wished to die. There have been times when I hated the world for not knowing my misery.
But during those times, I did not know you. I knew you were alive, but I knew nothing about you. I called you son in a vague way, because it is hard to believe when there is no evidence.
The day I met you, my heart healed.
I am the luckiest woman alive.'
Gritting his teeth against the pricking of tears, he mounted.
"This war better not take too long," he ground out beneath his breath.
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Angel and Garwin rode side by side in a sort of companionable misery. Despite all their weaponry and armor, there was nothing too intimidating about their forlorn faces.
"Where's Thayne?" Garwin asked suddenly
Angel blinked once, twice, and his half brother knew his thoughts had been with a certain Princess. "I haven't seen him. He must be amongst the troops."
"Well, let's find him. It will be something to do."
Shrugging in acquiescence, Angel reined in his horse. Dispatching a few pages to see if they could speed up the search, they scanned through the multitude of soldiers, but neither could spot the fair youth.
At last, a page came running up to them. "He's marching with the foot soldiers, Your Highness."
Angel frowned. "I gave instructions that he should be given a horse. Why is he on foot?"
"Here he comes, Your Highness," the page bowed.
Thayne approached in the wake of his captain, a burly man who did not seem completely at ease with an audience with the Crown Prince.
"Thayne, there you are," Angel said calmly. "Wherefore do you march? I had made provisions for you to be on horseback."
"Yes, Your Highness, I know," Thayne replied quietly.
"If you knew of my plans for you and yet you remain with your old regiment, then the only thing I can imagine is that your good captain has insisted upon it. Is this so, Captain?" he asked coolly.
The man reddened, harrumphing uselessly. "Fact is, Your Highness, I figured there was some mistake. Thayne here has never been much of a soldier, and I didn't see as he could have deserved a horse-"
"You are mistaken, good Captain," Angel interrupted smoothly. "Thayne is the epitome of an honorable man, and I am delighted that he has chosen to remain in my army. In recognition of his loyal services to Garwin and myself, I had hoped to see him seated upon a horse. Other than your lack of faith in his talents, which I assure you is completely mistaken, have you any objections to my wish that he ride?"
"No, Highness, of course not," he answered, not daring to meet his eyes.
"Splendid," Angel smiled. "Come Thayne, Garwin and I are desirous of your company."
"Ride with you, Your Highness?" Thayne asked in surprise.
"But of course. We can't have Garwin riding without his personal guard, can we?"
The bewildered captain gaped as Thayne was led away by two of the most powerful young men in the kingdom. He heard whispers as he made his way back to his post, men wondering about the condescension of the prince, his graciousness towards one such as Thayne.
They loved the Prince.
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Thayne was a welcome diversion for the two men, though he was somewhat astonished by their vehement insistence that he tell them every pleasantry and tale that he had ever known. He told them of his childhood fears of cats, the time when he was thirteen that the squire's comely daughter had kissed him full on the mouth. If they were not paying complete attention, it was more to do with their own separations than with their opinion of Thayne. Ever understanding, he did not mind, and babbled on until they made camp at sunset.
Since the capital city was not far from the border, they were not a great distance from their destination, and the men were quieter than they had been as they realized their proximity to certain war. Angel, however, did not feel that he could sleep, and remained staring into the embers of the dying campfire as most of the army retired for the night.
Thayne hesitated beside him, trying to stifle a yawn. "Is there anything you require of me, Highness?"
Angel smiled at the sleepy boy. "No, I am as well as I will be. Go to bed."
"My Prince, if there is a single thing-"
"Go to bed. That's an order, a royal command even. Sleep. Dream of peaceful times and unused armies."
Still Thayne paused. "Was that last part an order as well?"
"Very funny. Just sleep."
Thayne departed at last, and a moment later, Garwin joined Angel before the fire.
"He's a good man," Garwin observed.
"He's still too young to be a man. If he survives this war, though, he'll be more than that. He'll be a great man."
Garwin tilted his head, studying the lines of Angel's profile.
"What?" Angel asked at last.
"I grew up with you. I have seen you at your worst, throwing tantrums, misbehaving and causing all the trouble that boys are expected to produce. I remember how you used to blush when your voice began changing. And now-" he stopped.
"What? I'm even more irritating?"
"No," Garwin smiled. "No, you're a prince. Not just the son of a king kind of prince. You act like a monarch already. Don't shake your head at me, you do. You command and approve with this air of authority and power that has only lately come to you. Look at all the men in this camp-- they know what you are, even if you deny it. Every part of you proclaims your birth, your lineage, and your breeding. Not from your father, but from your ancestors. I have all the respect in the world for King Padraic, but you will be the most wonderful monarch his country has ever seen."
Angel squinted at him in the soft glow of the smoking fire. "Garwin, if I can exude that sort of carriage, that sort of attitude, then I'm glad, because it will make my life easier for people to respect and follow me. But I'm not different. I promise."
"You're wrong. You're better than you've ever been. Probably something to do with escaping from the power of your father, but I think a lot more to do with your wife. In any case, it becomes you. Let's just hope it will help you win this war." Clapping Angel on the shoulder, Garwin ducked under the flap of his tent.
"Me too," Angel muttered.
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Willow sneezed again.
"Princess, I like not your sneezing. You sound unwell." Marie looked at her with concern.
"No, Marie, I am well," she said quietly. The scratchiness of her voice, however, belied her words.
Marie placed a cool hand on her forehead, and gasped at the temperature of Willow's white skin. "Willow, you have a fever and did not tell me!"
"Marie, I do not feel so bad-"
"Do not feel so bad! Get into your bedclothes immediately! A princess's first duty to her country is to keep herself alive and well. You are not well, and you look only half alive. Get abed, get abed! You must get well."
Willow permitted herself to be hustled into bed.
"Where have you caught this fever? Have you neglected to dress warmly in this frosty weather?" Marie asked sternly.
"Of course not! Except-"
"There must be no exceptions! The cold will harm you if you give it occasion. What have you exposed yourself to?"
"Well," Willow reluctantly explained, "Last night I sort of went out onto the balcony without dressing properly."
"What were you wearing?" Marie asked threateningly.
"My shift," Willow replied in a small voice. Marie gasped.
"My love, how could you?"
"I was upset!" Willow pleaded. "I wasn't thinking properly!"
"Oh, of course. And after finding you nearly frozen, your dear prince very capably drove all other thoughts out of your mind, I'm sure."
"Marie!" Willow exclaimed, a blush stealing across her face.
"Well, and what if he gets sick? Off he goes to battle, and he cannot afford to be ill! But sure, it is not your fault, and I am certain he will be well," she amended, seeing the stricken look on Willow's face. "The only thing you need to do is to get better. Now sleep, and when you awaken, I will bring you some warm broth." Kissing her forehead, Marie swept out the doors.
Willow found that she was quite sleepy, but she turned to look at the empty pillow beside her own. "Angel, come home," she whispered. Gathering his pillow into her arms, she inhaled deeply, loving his smell. With a piece of bedding taking the place of her husband, she drifted off to sleep.
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Before setting out the next morning, Padraic and Angel broke their fast together.
"I find myself quite envious of you, my boy," the king said.
"Excuse me?" Angel asked, startled.
"My people are proud that I am their monarch. But I find that they are not quite so entirely in love with me as they are with you."
"Your Majesty, I don't think that is exactly-"
"Ah ah, divine right says that I'm not mistaken." The look on Angel's face made him laugh, his baritone echoing out through the camp. "I'm jesting, but I do not jest about what I said before. I think it's wonderful that they love you so much. Almost as much as my daughter, in fact. What ho there, steward!" Nodding to his son-in-law, the king strode away.
"Told you so." Garwin's voice came from behind Angel, making him jump.
"Don't do that!" Angel exclaimed.
"Come on, Princey boy. Get up on your horse."
Angel scowled at him. "Ooh, if you weren't my half brother..."
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There was no more laughter, a few hours later.
The troops had halted, and Angel looked grimly ahead. They stood facing the border, and to cross it was to begin the war proper. Many of the men who stood behind him would die within a very short amount of time. He wished with all his might that they could turn back, run back to the comfort and quiet of the palace, pretending they were good friends with Aylmar.
But Angel was well acquainted with impossible wishes, as he had made a great many in his old life. They could not, would not forgive Aylmar for his many insults, for his breaking of the treaty.
For his attempt upon Willow's life.
With the memory of her kiss lending him courage, he led his men forward.