Becoming One [Yassia]

[Oliver Strathmore of Mercia]

“Tell me do I look the part of the dashing debonair suitor, my dear brother?”

“You know you do.”

Edmund, Crown Prince of Mercia, turned away from the mirror to glare at his younger brother Oliver who was standing by the balcony with a glass of wine in his hand. As expected, Oliver was looking out, paying more attention to the setting sun than to his brother who had just asked him his opinion on how he looks. Edmund’s servant was putting on the finishing touches on his master’s suit for the night, making sure the prince looked every inch as regal as he is handsome. And Edmund was indeed very particular about that, for tonight was no ordinary night. Not to him.

Prince Oliver himself was feeling rather conflicted as he stood there watching the sun turn into varying shades of orange and red as it started to descend in the horizon. In parallel, he felt like his own life was also descending into the pits itself. Tonight, Edmund was going to ask for Princess Yassia’s hand in marriage. And Yassia would accept. And Oliver would be left to wallow in all the pain and hurt that his heart could most definitely not handle for the rest of his life. There’s nothing he could do about it really. Or is there?

“Do you really love her?” he asked.

“You know I do,” Edmund replied in a mocking tone mimicking his brother’s own response earlier. He had turned back to look at the full length mirror before him, adjusting his collar, just as his servant continued to fuss over him.

This time Oliver had to abandon his spot by the balcony and turned to walk towards his brother. He finished the rest of his drink. Whether it was for courage or merely to drown his misery, he didn’t know. He just needed to say something to Edmund before it escapes him.

“Yassia is a beautiful person inside and out, brother. She will make a good Queen. She will make you a good wife---“

“A good wife indeed!” Edmund cut him off. “That soft skin, those luscious lips…Tonight, she will be mine.”

Oliver took a deep breath. He could feel his hands shaking at his brother’s obvious nonchalance at the matter at hand. Edmund was about to propose to Yassia. To Yassia! But he seemed to be taking it all in stride, as if it was nothing. As if Yassia was easily handed to him on a silver platter. And it angered Oliver to no end. The future of Mercia rests in this one night, and the future of one seemingly homeless princess as well. And not just any princess. She was the princess of his own heart, the one his world revolves around in, the one he loves. To see Edmund take her for granted like this…it tore at Oliver’s heart. For the love of Mercia, Oliver had reluctantly accepted the fact that Yassia would make a good Queen to Edmund. And for his own love for Yassia, Oliver had accepted that Edmund would be able to give her what she wanted and needed for Ailantha. Oliver had reluctantly stepped aside. Now, the least Edmund could do was appreciate the gift, to act like it mattered—like she mattered.

“You don’t even know her.”

“We’ve talked about a lot of things since she has arrived here, brother. I know enough to decide that she is the one.”

“The one for what!” Oliver could no longer hide the disbelief on his face.

“The one for me!”

Oliver couldn’t help but scoff at Edmund’s reply this time. “After barely a month, you confidently say that she’s the one for you? Did you even stop to think if you are the one for her? It is supposed to be two-way, you know!”

Edmund turned to Oliver and closely examined his brother and his brother’s words. “Do I detect a hint of jealousy?”

“You don’t love her, Edmund. It’s all just a game to you.”

“She is going to be my future Queen. And she will make a good Queen. The future of Mercia and her own country lies in her hands…her hands in mine. How could it be a game to me?”

“You don’t care about her! All you care about is having a beautiful Queen standing beside you—“

“Sure, father has been breathing down my neck for ages now, but I also like Yassia. I am utterly captivated by her. I can’t say much about her feelings towards me, but what choice does she have really? She needs me and my army for her country. She is practically a penniless and homeless princess! My proposal, if she accepts it, would be a boon to her otherwise dismal status. If she is indeed a dutiful princess, she will take my proposal and she will thank me for it!”

Oliver clenched his fist and tried hard to stop himself from swinging a well-aimed blow to his brother jaw. From what Oliver knew about Yassia, she would never stoop that low. But then again, Yassia had always wanted to go back and help her country. And Oliver had no idea exactly how desperate she was to get what she wanted. Perhaps it was this last thought that made this conversation with Edmund all seemed futile. Whether Yassia loved Edmund or not, she was going to accept the proposal because it's going to pave the way for her to get the help of the Mercian army to take Ailantha back from her usurper uncle.

[Yassia Dyfrène de Ailantha]

„Do you want the pearl hair-net or just a few pearl pins as highlights in your hair, your Highness?“
The soft voice of Talia, the handmaiden she had been given for her stay in Mercia, pulled Yassia from her reverie. For a moment she was tempted to shrug. What did it matter after all? The hair-net of course would look splendid and costly, marking her every inch the princess she was, but Yassia didn’t feel much in the mood to dress up to such an extent. She rather liked her appearance accentuated, not overloaded, and in her eyes this was just a dinner invitation, not some sort of state banquet. But then, there had been this nagging feeling all day, ever since she had been asked to meet Edmund for dinner – alone, without the rest of his family – that there might be something afoot. That had been the cause of her faraway thoughts. She had mulled over it in her mind again and again, becoming more nervous by the hour. She was no stranger to courtly arrangements of course, and a private dinner between a foreign princess and the heir of the Mercian throne meant something, though she shied away from delving deeper into what it really could mean. Yassia didn’t want to go there, not in a thousand years, and she could only fervently hope she was overreacting.

But was she? If this was only a meaningless dinner invitation, then why was her handmaiden so lively and excited tonight, fussing more over her than she had ever before since being assigned this task? Was there something in the air everyone seemed to know about or at least guess, only she was too blind to see it? Sweet stars, please no! If she was right with anything on that way her thoughts were taking, this evening would become the touchstone of her whole life. But no, surely she was overreacting. She had made it clear after all what she wanted, yes? She needed to return to Ailantha, to drive out her uncle and become Queen. Edmund probably only wanted to speak to her in private, so they could work out a tactic for the council meeting tomorrow. Yes, that must be it!
Finally, Yassia realized she was owing her maid an answer for quite some time now, and without much thinking over it, she decided: “The pins will do, Talia, thank you!”

Through the dim surface of the looking glass, Yassia could make out Talia’s slightly crestfallen expression, but she knew better than to protest. It was not like the maid was living in fear from Yassia, but she still looked at her with some kind of awe, since she was coming from a land so far away. Yassia was glad she wasn’t one of the babbling sort, as she had become rather thoughtful herself these days and needed a little quiet space around herself. There was just too much to think over, and sooner or later she had to mentally slap herself away from one particular person: Oliver. He had that way of sneaking into her thoughts at the most unbidden time, and the last few days had provided her with really much to think or daydream about. They had kissed, he had taught her how to shoot a bow, with their bodies so close together that it was surely scandalous and both his hands on hers as he guided the shot… he had chased her through the forest just the other day… and yet it all meant nothing, not to him anyway! And she had to learn to accept that! If everything went well, she would leave Mercia soon, with the support of a small army and return home. It was what she always had wanted, right? She should be excited and happy. But somehow, she was not…

Energetically, Yassia forced her mind back on the present and finally took a look at herself in the mirror. There she was, wearing a flowing gown of two shades of green, accentuated only around her slim waist with a girdle of dark blue, embroidered with gold. She had refused a more splendid gown for the same reason as she had refused the hair-net, but then she always had liked it simple. When she moved her head, the pearls were capturing the candlelight quite nicely, even though Talia was not even done.
“It looks wonderful already”, she complimented her maid and was pleased to see the girl blush. At least someone she could make happy tonight… though where that sudden thought had come from, Yassia couldn’t tell.

[Oliver Strathmore of Mercia]

The things you do for your kingdom and your people.

It seems all three of them are acting or will be acting towards that same goal. Edmund was proposing to Yassia to get himself a Queen who would rule Mercia beside him once Bayard's reign as king ends. Oliver was stepping back to give his brother, the Crown Prince, and by extension Mercia, what they needed. And Yassia...well, she could very well accept the proposal to get the help she needed to take her own people back from her uncle. It was all well and good, except it wasn't. Oliver was trying so desperately hard to keep his vow, to be a responsible prince and son of Mercia, and he should be proud of it. But deep inside, he was anything but. Seeing Yassia everyday in the castle, remembering the moments they had spent together---they did nothing but make him regret the vow he had made. If he thought his time with Yassia in the Forest of Balor was the happiest time of his life, it didn't compare to the thought of waking up to see her around the castle everyday, seeing her smile at him and having short but fun conversations whenever they meet in the hallways or during meal times. Having an impromptu picnic in the forest, eating berries and cooking hare, teaching her how to use the bow and arrow, chasing each other through the forest---the more time they spent together and the more memories they make together, they only made Oliver want more. Who was he kidding when he tried to convince himself that he was only acting as a good host and as a good friend? He wanted it. More than anything. He wanted to be with her. But he couldn't.

And to see Edmund take it all for granted, to see him puff his chest and saunter around his room assured of Yassia's answer in the affirmative, it grated at his nerves, it staked a dagger into his already bleeding heart. And Oliver was totally helpless about it. All because of that stupid vow. And all because he loved Yassia. Yassia needed Edmund, not him. Edmund commands the Mercian army, and Bayard would easily relent to his favored son. Even if Oliver could do his best at convincing the council, he knew he wouldn't easily get it if he didn't have Edmund's support. Yes, Yassia was better off with Edmund.

"Don't talk about her like that," he said, trying to control the anger in his voice now. "She is not like any woman you know, Edmund. Don't treat her like you treat all your women."

"Are you afraid that I'm going to take her as my wife and have dalliances on the side?"

Oliver had no response to that. Knowing Edmund, he just might.

"We just have to wait and see, wouldn't we, brother? If she makes me a happy man, why would I go out and find happiness somewhere else? But if she doesn't, why would I make myself miserable and deprive myself of the happiness that I can get in someone else's be--"

Edmund didn't get to finish because Oliver had completely lost his cool, and had suddenly thrown a good punch across Edmund's face. If Edmund's servant hadn't stepped between them in time, Oliver would have already pummeled his brother again.

"You...bastard!" exclaimed Edmund as he reached a hand up to his jaw. A drop of blood trickled down his chin, and he glared daggers at his brother. "I see the way you look at her, Oliver. You want her for yourself. But, lad, she doesn't want you. You can't give her what she needs! If you really feel for her that much, then you'd do best to know that I am what she needs!"

Panting hard and heavy, Oliver stepped back trying to calm himself and now looking apologetic for his outburst. Of course, Edmund was right. Hadn't he been telling that himself. "I'm...I'm sorry, Edmund. I didn't mean to--Yassia...she is a...a good friend. All I want is what's best for her."

More than anything, Edmund didn't want a woman to stand between him and his brother. Blood is thicker after all. So upon hearing Oliver's reasons, he stepped towards his brother and reached a hand out to rest on his shoulder. "It's alright. I understand your concern. You know me better after all. I will treat her well."

"Have you not thought of waiting a few more months? Get to know her more...her favorite color, her favorite food, how she learned healing, what she does on her spare time..."

Edmund smiled. "Trust me, brother. I know enough to know that she will make a good Queen for Mercia someday. She even has father and mother's seal of approval. Let's just hope she accepts my proposal."

Yes, Yassia certainly does. While Edmund knows that Bayard approves of Yassia for him, he didn't know that Lady Adelaide approves of Yassia not for him, but for Oliver.

"You know she will." Oliver answered with a small smile, finally feeling all defeated. "I'll go get her."

Edmund nodded as Oliver turned and stepped out of his brother's room. Oliver kicked himself mentally for losing his control back there. Edmund can be so infuriating, the spoiled prince that he is. But Oliver was hopeful. Edmund is not all that bad. He hadn't proposed to any woman, noble or not, before. To see him decide now, on Yassia, he must really have felt something for her, something more than mere lust. And Oliver clung to that hope. Edmund can give Yassia what she needs. Edmund can make her happy. He had to say that many times to convince himself.

With all these crazy thoughts and emotions running through him, Oliver didn't know how he found his way towards Yassia's room. But he was there now, standing outside her door. He was not as regally dressed as Edmund was. In fact, he wasn't dressed to the nines at all, just his typical garb of blue tunic, breeches, and riding boots. He wasn't, after all, part of their special private dinner. Oliver emptied his mind of anything. It wasn't that hard to do, because, honestly, he didn't know what to think now. He didn't want to say anything to Yassia that might clue her in on what Edmund's up to tonight. He also didn't want to say anything that might put Edmund in a bad light and affect the decision Yassia was going to make. As much as Oliver wanted to tell her to say no, he couldn't, he wouldn't. Yassia needed Edmund. That had become the mantra that Oliver kept repeating to himself to keep him from snatching Yassia and taking her away from the castle, away from Edmund, away from all these crazy nonsense. Yassia needed Edmund. And with that final thought, the young prince took a deep breath, and knocked on her door.

[Yassia Dyfrène de Ailantha]

While Talia was applying the finishing touch to Yassia’s appearance, the young princess found her mind wandering again. This dark feeling of foreboding wouldn’t quite vanish, as much as she tried to shake it off. She didn’t even know what was causing it, maybe it was all those little snippets that had accumulated over the past few days now forcefully wanting to form one certain picture, but Yassia couldn’t quite make out its form yet. Maybe it was also the helplessness in general that got to her, the feeling of being nothing like a puppet on a string, not able to do anything about it as she was led into a dance to amuse the stars. She hadn’t felt so much at someone else’s mercy ever since she had taken her fate into her own hands, leaving Ailantha behind. Maybe that was what she was missing, this feeling of control over her actions that had been slipping through her fingers ever so slightly ever since meeting Oliver again? Yes, even though she hated to admit it, it was again Oliver triggering this feeling of anxiety, as he was more than just a man she thought to once have loved and maybe still did. He was a symbol for the scheme the stars seemed to have worked out for her. Now she had met him again and spent so much time with him, she knew their first meeting had indeed been designed by the stars and had not by any means been a product of coincidence. But with every day that passed Yassia got more and more confused as to what else this scheme might entail. In the first moments of seeing him again, she had thought it a blessing, a sign that maybe she wouldn’t stay unhappy forever, but they both had worked neatly to undo that possibility. Now they had barred the way for a happy outcome, even though just his friendship was more than she could have ever asked for, and she knew she should be thankful for it. But what a fool she herself had been, wishing on a star to ‘meet him again, whatever the circumstances’. She should have known better that such wishes always came with a heavy price and were often enough taken literally. Now look at the circumstances they had created…

Again it was Talia’s voice pulling her from her rather gloomy thoughts, and what she said was enough to make Yassia’s eyebrows dart up in genuine surprise.
“You know… no offense your Highness, but I think this outfit and jewelry would look much better with a smile.” There it was again, the typical Albion and especially Mercian frankness. In Ailantha, no servant that wasn’t on extremely good terms with her mistress would have dared to voice such a comment unbidden, but for Yassia it was just the thing she needed right now. It reminded her again that she needed to put her act together. So, instead of monishing her handmaid for her bluntness, she gave an almost rueful smile and nodded at her face in the mirror.

“Of course, you are right, Talia. Forgive me my absent mind. I was thinking of my homeland.” It was not exactly a lie after all, since her thoughts HAD been directed to Ailantha and her choice of leaving there. Talia seemed encouraged by the lack of reprimand and looked up from Yassia’s hair, cocking her head.
“I’ve never been away from home, so I can’t really imagine how that must feel like. Do you miss your family?” That innocent remark was enough to make Yassia laugh, but the laugh had a bitter edge to it. The only family she had left, she did definitely NOT miss, as they were the cause of all her troubles, and the ones she missed most she could never see again until she, too, had found her place amongst the stars. Talia, a little taken aback by the laugh, stayed silent, but this time it was Yassia feeling the need to break said silence.
“I do miss my people”, she said softly. “I sadly have no family left worth missing. And I miss the landscape, the customs, everything I grew up to. It is hard to get settled somewhere so different in some aspects.” She had never been so frank with a servant before, but oddly enough, Yassia found it to be quite refreshing. She sensed honest interest behind Talia’s remarks, no ill will.

With a tentative smile, the handmaid stood back and inclined her head. “I am done, your Highness, and if I may say so, you look beautiful. I would keep my fiancé away from you!”
Before Yassia could counter that compliment with a remark of her own, maybe congratulating Talia on her betrothed state, there was a knock on the door, and Talia went to open the door. Yassia, momentarily occupied with standing up and adjusting her gown, didn’t turn her head at once, but then she heard Talia’s slightly surprised exclamation: “Your Royal Highness!” and the rushing of fabric as the handmaiden swept low into a curtsy. Yassia’s head darted around in surprise. Had Edmund come to fetch her himself? But then her eyes settled on an all too familiar face and her heart missed a beat. Oliver…! She had not been prepared to see him at all tonight, and somehow knowing he would see her now, all prettied up to dine with his brother, turned this matter from bad to worse. Somehow she couldn’t bear him thinking she had put effort behind looking pretty for Edmund, even though this was far from a rational sensation. Momentarily unable to speak, she just looked at him, praying he would have enough wits about him not to make this encounter even more embarrassing.

[Oliver Strathmore of Mercia]

Oliver had been rather pre-occupied with his boots trying not to think too much about the situation that he immediately looked up when the door to Yassia's chambers opened. He smiled at the handmaiden Talia when she greeted him with a curtsey. It was obvious she was surprised to see him come fetch Yassia. What did make him come indeed? Honestly, he didn't realized he was thinking about offering to get her until he did back at Edmund's room. Perhaps, it was because he just wanted to be out of that room soon. Or perhaps, he wanted to see Yassia one more time before she becomes betrothed to his brother. Or perhaps, he just wanted to see her. Period.

"Is the princess..." He had barely finished the sentence when a movement from the corner of eyes caught his attention. He turned to see Yassia all glammed up looking back at him with those bright wide eyes that also spoke of...what that surprise? No, anxiety? There was a small hint of distress there, and Oliver's heart automatically went out to her, knowing what was waiting for her tonight. And he couldn't help but frown for a second. But then he caught himself not soon after. He turned the frown into a quick smile and focused on how breathtaking Yassia looked tonight. Of course, she was beautiful. There was no denying that. And Oliver tried very hard to quell the jealousy that had already been growing inside him ever since.

Oliver seemed to have forgotten his manners when he found himself stepping into the room without an invitation, just looking at Yassia, awe and admiration clearly written all over his face. He closed the distance between them, and gave her a small bow, boldly taking her hand and planting a soft lingering kiss on the back of it. "You look beautiful, princess. My brother would be delightfully enchanted." As I am. For a few heartbeats, he just stood there, still holding her hand, looking at her, admiring her--wishing that it was him that she was all dressed up for, that it was him who would be dining with her tonight, that it was him who would be proposing to spend forever with her. "Are you ready, my lady?" he finally asked, trying to hide his sadness with a small smile.

[Yassia Dyfrène de Ailantha]

Once again it seemed like the stars were not through with tormenting her.What had she ever done wrong to be mocked like that at any turn of the way? Oliver’s presence was kept from her when she needed him, but was practically shoved into her face whenever it was most inappropriate. Like the scene down by the river, like when they had first met again in Camelot. There was every possibility to start on the wrong foot and very sparse opportunuties to make things right again. But she guessed that was not meant to be, things ever being ‘right’ again between her and Oliver, even though she would like a few subtler reminders of that in the future. This was just wearing on her constantly, up until the moment when she would wake from fitful sleep, expecting him to lie beside her as he had done in the Forest of Balor. It was crazy, and it was surely immature, but she could not help it.

And then he looked at her, with these bright, burning eyes and she felt even more unsettled than she had before. Don’t look at me like that! She wanted to hurl at him, you don’t know what you do to me, and if you know, you’re the vilest man on earth doing it neverheless! A few weeks before, she would have given everything to see herself mirrored in his eyes again, like the way he had looked at her in that enchanted night under the stars. She had been so sure of his feelings for her then, as he had surely not beaten around the bush. But what of that had been part of a game, and what had been true? Yassia just didn’t know anymore, as he had been so ready to cast her aside at the first opportunity. She had closed her heart to him after that, or at least tried to, but with every nice move Oliver continued to make, with every laugh they shared, the wall had started to crumble and she now felt more vulnerable than ever before. But then, she was a princess, born and bred to go through such storms with her head still held high and a smile on her face. She had done it before, she could do it again.

She was just about to break the gaze and ask why he had been coming, when he stepped forward and took her hand in his. And her breath once again caught in her throat when he put her hand to his lips. It was not a polite, courteous kiss he aspirated on there, it was one of a far more intimate sort, and for a moment Yassia felt tempted to snatch her hand away and slap him for this anewed assault on her composure. But even though she wanted to, she could not. Firstly, it would be a highly immature thing to do, since she was sure only herself had been able to tell this kiss on the hand apart from a ‘normal’ one, and secondly… with just this move he had disarmed her yet again, and she had to fight another strong impulse, grabbing hold of his hand and pulling him close to her, so she could snuggle up against his chest and forget about the dinner with his brother. But as she could do neither, she settled on the correct way in between.
”Well, I do hope my appearance is appropriate for the Mercian court”, she joked softly. “Caitrin has still failed to brief me a little more on that. But yes…” she swallowed, feeling like a horrible liar. No, she was NOT ready. For some odd reason she felt like a lamb being led to the slaughter, and the traitor leading her there was none other than Oliver himself. “I am ready. Let’s go.”

[Oliver Strathmore of Mercia]

When he held her hands in his, when he gazed deep into her eyes, for a moment, he felt like he was back in the Forest of Balor, just marveling with awe at the wonderful gift he had been given in the middle of the wild, during a hunt nevertheless. He felt like all the world around them had dissolved to nothing and it was just him and her. And he wanted so bad for it to stay that way. While he had ceaselessly pined for Yassia since the day they met, he had never in his life imagined that they would get here now, like this, devoid of all pretenses of who they really were--not some random huntsman and nomad, but a prince and a princess. Unfortunately, showing their true selves had meant letting go of that wonderful gift as well. To Oliver at least. And it pained him so much to know that. She was a princess who needed a prince, a prince who could help her with her kingdom. He wasn't that prince.

And yet, he couldn't help but wish and want--nay, ache--for a sign that she wanted him as much as he wanted her, that she too treasured what they used to have, that she loved him, too. Oliver knew he told her to keep their past a secret to everybody else. He hoped Yassia understood that he did that for her own good. Edmund wanted her. And she needed him for her country. It would do no good if Edmund finds out about them, what they once shared. It was a sacrifice that Oliver had to make, and he desperately hoped that Yassia understood it.

"The Mercian court doesn't hold a candle to your radiance tonight, princess. They would do well to learn a thing or two from you," he replied with a smile as he placed the hand he had been holding around his arm. He nodded to Talia, before gently leading Yassia out of her room and towards the corridors leading back to a room adjacent to Edmund's chambers. The thought of Yassia being so near Edmund in his own private chambers made him clench his jaw, and he tried to turn his head away to keep her from seeing the hardened expression on his face.

Feeling obliged to break the silence between them, Oliver finally spoke. "Edmund and I talked a bit about how to approach the council regarding your request. He has some ideas that you might find helpful and..." Completely mad to me. Of course, he didn't want to say that out loud. Hastening the proposal and the marriage had been Edmund's idea. That way, the council would be easier to persuade if Edmund were to present Yassia as his betrothed by then. The council wouldn't begrudge their soon-to-be Queen the help she needed now. Of course, who was Oliver to veto that suggestion. If he were a disinterested party, he might have even thought about it himself. "...and interesting. He was rather enthusiastic about it that he wanted to tell you personally." There was a biting hint in Oliver's voice that he tried but failed to hide. So much for trying not to clue Yassia in on anything. He was glad that they were almost near Edmund's chambers now.

[Yassia Dyfrène de Ailantha]

Words, words… flattering words. Yassia was quite used to them and had learned to drown them out for the most part, but somehow she couldn’t do it as easily when the words came from Oliver. There she never could quite help but wish there was more to his words than courteous flattery, something he would say to every woman he met and didn’t find entirely hideous. But then again, words were so much better than awkward silence, and so whatever he said, Yassia knew she should be grateful for Oliver’s ability to handle the situation, and not leave him hanging. She had to answer something in return, but there was no reason why she should agree to him when she firmly disagreed. Even though she had seen her reflection in the mirror just a few moments ago, she was by no means convinced she looked ‘radiant’ or anything like that. She had been genuine in her concern for making the right appearance, and she would have liked honesty in return. Oh well, that could not be helped now, she would just try to argue her case further.

“Please, Oliver, we both know that is not true!” she protested with a little laugh, tempted to smack the arm he had placed her hand on, but refraining from it. Here someone could see them and draw conclusions that might endanger the agreement they had come to: No one could know they had previous knowledge of each other, and Yassia was pretty sure no one knew about their few chance meetings over the following days either. To the public eye, they should not be so much acquainted as to exchange jibes and call each other by first name. She had only done it after stepping away from the closed door and from Talia, as she didn’t want gossip that would too painfully point into the right direction. “Besides, I have never seen a woman who holds herself with such regal grace as your mother. There’s no one who can hold a candle to HER, I am sure.” That was nothing but Yassia’s honest opinion, her adoration for Lady Adelaide had only grown which each day of either just seeing her or actually speaking to her. In a way, she reminded Yassia so much of her own mother that it often hurt, but there was more to this than just a faint reminiscence and the affection felt for the Queen of Mercia was by no means only founded on that.

Yassia was not quite sure, if she should feel encouraged or warned by Oliver’s words. He provided her with a good reason for this private dinner after all, if Edmund had an idea he wanted to discuss with her alone first, but then once again she couldn’t quite shake off the dark sense of foreboding that seemed to take over her again. If this was an idea to help her, then why wasn’t Oliver pleased? He seemed genuinely opposed to the idea, albeit too polite to voice it, at least that was the message Yassia was getting, and she didn’t like it one bit. “And this idea doesn’t take your fancy?” she prompted softly, even though she knew it might be wrong to press the matter. This most likely was a matter between Oliver and his brother, some sibling rivalry perhaps, and she didn’t want to get in between that. It was none of her business. If Edmund had an idea, there was no saying Yassia HAD to accept it, right? If she didn’t like it, just like Oliver, she would politely decline and otherwise enjoy the evening. Yes, that was a good plan. Suddenly, the feeling of foreboding vanished. She had been panicking in vain again.

[Oliver Strathmore of Mercia]

"Please, Oliver, we both know that is not true!"

Some women reject praise only to be praised again, to feed their vanity or insecurity. But to Oliver, Yassia was simply, although absurdly to him, being honestly modest. The lady doesn't know exactly how beautiful she is and how she is affecting the people surrounding her. It only added more to her allure and the attraction that she holds to others. Yassia was definitely not the usual stuck up or spoiled royal brat. He had certainly heard both whispered and loudly expressed adoration for the princess from the servants and nobles alike. A great deal of jealous gossip from women in the noble circles had also reached his ears about the foreign princess merely playing with the hearts of both Mercian princes to her advantage. Oliver only laughed and dismissed these. What do you expect really? These noble women are feeling completely upstaged that a foreigner was getting all the attention after only a few weeks in the kingdom. Oliver was definitely not lying when he told Yassia that Mercia could learn a thing or two from her.

"Maybe you don't, but I certainly do," he replied, his voice warm and sincere as he turned to look her straight in the eye, letting her know that was not lip service at all. "Beauty is power, princess. You could certainly use that to your advantage," he added with a chuckle. Was he telling Yassia the secret to disarming Edmund? For what purpose really? Edmund is already enamored by her. Hell, she need not even pretty herself up. She only needed to sit there, listen to Edmund pour his heart out, and she'd only nod or say Yes to get what she needed. It certainly took a great deal of control for Oliver not to show any indication of what was going on inside his head that minute, so when Yassia brought up the subject of his mother, he immediately jumped into the wagon.

"She is a class of her own, my mother," Oliver replied with the obvious respect and love in his voice that a dear son could have for his beloved mother. "But may I be so bold to tell you that you are giving her a run for her money...the way you hold yourself in the Mercian court. My mother doesn't mind actually. She likes you." And that was understating it. Lady Adelaide adored Yassia so much she wished she had a daughter just like her. The queen had gushed about the princess during one of her visits to Oliver when he was still confined in his room after the sword incident with Edmund. Marcus had told the queen how an expert at healing the princess was and perhaps many other things about her. Of course, Lady Adelaide was no fool. It didn't take long for her to put the pieces together concerning her youngest son and the princess, and to connect it to the hunting stories Oliver had told her. Of course, Oliver had made her understand that Edmund needed and wanted Yassia, for the good of the kingdom. The queen only pursed her lips at him then.

"And this idea doesn't take your fancy?"

"It doesn't matter what I think. It is what is best for you and your people," he replied as stoically as he possibly could. Yes, it was the best for Yassia, nothing else should matter, especially not his feelings. Oliver then heaved a deep sigh, and then finally turned to face her. "If you need or want anything, anything at all, Yassia, you know you can always come to me. Despite and inspite of everything, I am your friend, and I am here for you." It was simply a confirmation, to assert himself again as her friend. He even dropped mentioning her title and address her by her first name to show her how sincere he was. But to Oliver, it sounded a lot like saying goodbye. As soon as he knocked on that door, he knew she will forever be lost to him. She will accept Edmund's proposal, and Oliver will be reduced to nothing but a hurting admirer, practically a nobody. Who was he fooling when he thought he had been preparing himself for this? To lose her like this, to Edmund, in favor of his duties and responsibilities as a son of Mercia, it was torture. Nothing can ever prepare him from losing Yassia forever.

And before he could change his mind and whisk Yassia away from the castle, Oliver knocked on Edmund's door.

[Yassia Dyfrène de Ailantha]

Once upon a time, Yassia would have given everything for such a look in his eyes, telling her he was sincere in finding her beautiful. Back then, when she had still allowed herself to dream and live in the moment, she would have felt her heart soar to the highest clouds with these words, but now they only made her heart heavy and weighed it down. If he found her so beautiful, why did he reject her then? His motives were not any clearer to her than they had been when he first told her that no one could know of their previous history. And she had hardened her heart against him, not willing to suffer any more than she could help it. So why did he keep assaulting her thick walls, why did he constantly flatter her and make a show of being sincere about it? What his eyes told her was so very different from what his mouth did, and even though they said ‘eyes were the mirror to the soul’, it was the mouth that decided in the end. For another saying put it perfectly: ‘It is not our traits that make us who we are, but our decisions.’ And he had decided against her, hadn’t he? So she finally should do so as well, and HE should finally act on his decision. It was heartless to constantly show interest and then reject her again. Deep in her heart of hearts, Yassia knew that Oliver could never be such a heartless player, but he made a very good show of one, that was for sure! How many other girls would there be, longing for a sign of affection by him? And who had taken her place as his favourite – if she ever had been so much as that?

"Beauty is power, princess. You could certainly use that to your advantage,"
Was he mocking her now? Yassia herself might have once or twice relied on her looks to get somewhere or achieve something, but she had always felt shabby doing it, and in the end it most of the time had backfired. “Beauty is more of a poison than a power, Prince Oliver”, she retorted softly, shaking her head. “Because if it is there, it will be taken as all there is, with no interest for what might lie beneath it, and if it is not there, it has to be compensated. Beauty is an object of desire, but it holds no more value than adornment. Would you like to be judged by your face only?” She did stop there, did not voice what was in her head, though it so desperately wanted out. ‘You loved me when I was dirty, and you rejected me when I was pretty, so don’t tell me my beauty worked to my advantage.’

But before her heart could be any more laden with grief over passed up chances, Yassia rather focused on the next, more pleasing subject: Lady Adelaide. She really had highest regards for this woman, and it somehow warmed her heart to hear the loving adoration in Oliver’s voice as he talked about her. This was just how it ought to be. Edmund didn’t really seem to show much interest in her, he didn’t nearly talk about her as often as Oliver had. That might be because he was the eldest son, the heir, and thought himself too mature to show so much affection rather for his mother than for his father, but still, in Yassia’s eyes it would not have been a blemish or a flaw. Both young princes could be called fortunate to still have a mother watching over them, and one of Lady Adelaide’s wisdom and poise at that! With much difficulty, Yassia suppressed an eyeroll at Oliver’s renewed praise directed at herself, and she chose to simply politely neglect it, and focus on the last part of what had been said.
“I am very glad she likes me!” she assured with a warm voice, not hiding her own affection. “I haven’t been able to talk to someone like her in… in a very long time. Camelot has no queen, my uncle has no wife… the closest thing to this might have been my stepmother Amaranta, but that was before I left.”

Something was off about Oliver, Yassia knew it as well as she knew herself. There was more to his rejection on his brother’s idea, and once again it made her squeemish and wary as to what this idea could entail. But then, she would find out soon enough, wouldn’t she? If it benefitted her and Ailantha, it couldn’t be too bad, right? She nodded briefly, suddenly feeling her heart fluttering in her throat, and Oliver’s statement was doing nothing to help that fact. Not only had he addressed her with her first name, Yassia, instead of the formal ‘princess’ – which for some reason always sped up her heartrate – but there was something in his eyes, a truth, an honesty not even her strongest walls could ignore. It should have annoyed her that he continued to offer his support when he was willing to give nothing else, but it did not annoy her at all. In fact, it made her quite help- and speechless for a second, and she could do nothing but return his gaze, mouthing ‘Thank you’, almost unhearably. Why did this conversation have a feeling of farewell to it? She was only going through this door to dine with his brother, she was not going away! And yet, Yassia could feel her walls crumbling, and for a moment the honest truth was visible in her eyes, she could not hold up this mask of indifference up any longer. Instead it was replaced by fear, hurt and longing.
But that was when Oliver knocked on the door and Yassia heard shuffling from the inside. Biting her lips hard, Yassia focused to regain her composure and forced her lips to smile for Edmund.

[Oliver Strathmore of Mercia]

Nothing. Not even the faintest sign of outward pleasure at his candid honesty. If Yassia was indeed pleased and affected by his compliments as much as he was of her beauty, she didn't show it. Over and over, again and again, Oliver had been trying to show her bits and pieces of his feelings for her, but Yassia was so closed up now to show even the slightest hint of acknowledging it. But then of course, what exactly did he hope to achieve here really? Surely, he had not hoped to backtrack from his vows and duties now? Not when they're merely minutes away from seeing it all to fruition, seeing all his so-called sacrifices paying off. It all came to this because he helped made it happen, did he not? For staying back, for telling Yassia to forget about their past, for pushing Edmund and Yassia together, he was as much an accessory to the crime, if it ever was one. Oliver had no one else to blame for his misery but himself.

"Would you like to be judged by your face only?

Once again, like she always has, Yassia showed him just how beautiful she was inside as she is outside. No woman could be as gifted with such lovely face and also be bestowed with a brilliant mind as Yassia was. And she was right, of course. If she were only a beauty, would she really have held that much attraction for him in the first place? While Oliver had continually praised her for her outward appearance, it was the gift of conversation and the mind behind it that had made him stay stuck, that made him not want to let go. He wondered if Edmund likes her that way as well, but then he recalled their earlier conversation, of Edmund describing how good a wife Yassia would make him. No, Edmund was not the type who enjoyed conversations as much as Oliver does. "No, certainly not, princess. But I know some people who would capitalize on that if it was all they had," he replied with an apologetic smile. "I was merely referring to your dinner tonight with Edmund. My brother is enamored by your beauty, use it to your advantage to get what you want, on your terms." He knew Yassia need no advice of the sort. She was not going to battle after all. Or maybe was it him who thought that way, that maybe he was still clinging to the hope of Yassia declining Edmund's proposal, and that she would need to use her feminine wiles to let Edmund see her reasons whatever they may be? But no, Oliver shook his head of these impossible thoughts. She will like what Edmund would give her. She will chose Edmund.

He nodded with a smile, understanding and greatly appreciating Yassia's high regard for the queen. At least, that was one silver lining to Edmund and Yassia's eventual marriage. Lady Adelaide already loved her soon-to-be daughter-in-law, and Yassia already adored her mother-in-law. Oliver will just have to take happiness from that thought. "She already holds you dear to her heart, and I'm sure she would love it more if you go to her should you need anything only a mother or a woman like her could give," Oliver replied assuming it was a mother figure that Yassia was longing for. Lady Adelaide would surely love that.

Edmund's servant opened the door as expected, and he acknowledged Oliver and Yassia with a bow. Oliver turned to Yassia, and brought her hand to his lips before giving her a small bow. "This is where I bid you good night, princess. Enjoy your evening," he said as he let go and stepped back. He gave her one small, albeit sad smile, before turning and walking away.

Inside, Edmund stood on alert when he heard his brother's voice bid the princess good night. He put down the goblet of wine he had been downing on the table and walked towards the door. "Good evening, princess," he greeted as his servant opened the door wider to reveal Yassia. And then Edmund could feel his jaw literally drop. She was breathtaking, and Edmund felt an exhilarating surge of excitement rush through him at the lovely vision she presented. "Thank you, Adam," he finally told his servant as Adam bowed low and stepped out of the room. Edmund then reached a hand out to Yassia and gestured for her to come in. He had a special meal prepared for them in the receiving area of his own chambers. All were already laid out on the table as Edmund had decided to be dispensed with the services of his servant for the night. Tonight was a special night for him and Yassia. Only for him and Yassia.

[Yassia Dyfrène de Ailantha]

Oliver didn’t seem to have realized her momentary slip, and for that quick moment between the knock and the answering by Edmund’s servant, Yassia felt like being pulled under by a maelstrom of confusing and battling emotions. There was relief that she had been able to hide her moment of weakness from him, there was some sort of fearful excitement as the feeling of being led into her doom intensified for no apparent reason, and there was also letdown. Letdown because she wondered what would have been if Oliver had seen her true feelings for him inside this split second. Would it have changed anything? And if yes, for better or worse? But now she would never know, and she was aware that she should finally let go of these stupid sentiments that kept her captive in the world of ‘what might have been’. It was about time she resumed control over her life again, and maybe this night was the start?!

He bid her a good night and a hopefully enjoyable evening, but before she had time to react to that, Yassia’s attention was diverted by Edmund’s rather stark reaction to what she only could assume was her appearance. He literally stared open-mounded, and it made the princess more than uncomfortable. If this slightly subdued appearance already made him stare almost rudely in a way, what reaction would a more splendid gown and hairdo have provoked from him?! She could hear Oliver’s words echo in her head: ‘My brother is enamored by your beauty, use it to your advantage to get what you want, on your terms’ and only now she seemed to fully grasp their meaning. ‘Besotted’, was the term her mother often would have used in jest, when she observed some young knight fawning over that lady in court. Was Edmund truly that ‘besotted’ with her? And if yes, what would that mean? Until now, Yassia had been able to push any thoughts like that into the back of her head, but now she was starting to panic again. ‘No!’ she wanted to scream. ‘You’re the wrong brother!!!’, but of course she did nothing of that sort.

Instead, she inclined her head like it was custom and stepped over the threshold into a richly decorated antechamber. Inconspicuously, she let her gaze wander from under lowered eyelids, and found her thoughts confirmed: as different as the two brothers were in their natures, as different were their rooms. Edmund’s room was truly the chamber of a crown prince, with all pleasantries and elegance you would expect, sometimes even bordering a little on the ‘too much’ for Yassia’s taste. But then, what was it to her?
“Good evening, Prince Edmund!” she greeted him with a smile and stepped closer. “I see you really didn’t shy away from any effort for this dinner.”

[Oliver Strathmore of Mercia]

Edmund practically stared at Yassia shamelessly and with undisguised awe as she stepped into his chambers. Watching her, in all her dolled up glory, albeit simple and not so grand, it made Edmund feel like he was making exactly the right choice at the right moment. He had to admit that Oliver's words earlier had made him stop and think for a while if he had been rushing into things and not thinking it over. But to see Yassia here now, it not only drowned out his younger brother's protests, it practically cast them into oblivion. It was as if his conversation with Oliver didn't happen at all.

Yassia will become Queen of Mercia. She will become his own queen. Just look at her light up this dismal room with her mere presence, Edmund was telling himself. She belonged here. The prince hungrily gazed at her from head to toe, taking in the littlest detail in her hair, her lovely kissable lips, the dainty curve of her neck, her chest that showed just the right amount of swelling that would make a man ache for more, and down to her slim waist. It took a considerable amount of sheer willpower for Edmund to hold himself back and not take Yassia in his arms and ravish her right there and then. She was such a temptation, just standing there looking so effortlessly beautiful without knowing it. He cast a furtive but deliberate glance at the foot of the king-sized bed that was peering from within the main chambers. Yes, Yassia certainly belonged here. With me. Tonight. And from this night onwards.

He took Yassia's hand in his and planted a long, lingering kiss on the back of her hand before leading her to the lavishly laden table. "For you, every effort is worth it, princess," he replied as he pulled her chair back and waited for her to sit down. "I see you didn't shy away from any effort for this dinner yourself. You look perfect." Then he took his own seat and started preparing for the meal. "Please, help yourself. Let's forget stiff protocols and table manners tonight. It's just you and me," he said as he took a sip from his goblet. He reached for the bottle and filled Yassia's goblet. "How about a toast to our friendship and the friendship of our kingdoms?" he said raising his goblet.

[Yassia Dyfrène de Ailantha]

There was something in Edmund’s gaze Yassia didn’t like, that made her uneasy. For a moment, the stare was almost shamelessly candid and she felt like she was being undressed by him with his eyes. Was she imagining things?! Inside, all her muscles went rigid for a moment, even though her face betrayed nothing of that fearful spasm. And then, she thought his eyes even to flicker towards his bedchamber for a second, even though she couldn’t be sure at all. But the sheer possibility!!! Suddenly, Yassia felt like a trembling sheep in front of a wolf who had tossed aside his sheep’s clothing after he had her trapped. But no, she was overreacting, clearly! Her nerves had been on edge all day and that was the result! Edmund was far too much of a gentleman to ever allow his thoughts to stray on such paths, and anyway: this was a business dinner, was it not? They were going to discuss tactics on how to sway the Mercian council. Even Oliver had said so! And anyway… if anyone, Oliver should know about his brother’s intentions, and he wouldn’t let her walk into such a trap, right?! Then again… Edmund HAD dismissed his servant for the night…

Slapping some sense into herself inwardly, Yassia forced the panic down, even though it cost her some effort. She was clearly a wreck! Who would have thought this stay in Mercia to be so trying? But then, simply so much had happened in the last few day, it had been a lot to stomach. Couldn’t that excuse jittery nerves? Given, her nerves didn’t get any better, when Edmund planted that more-than-just-courteous kiss on her hand, but then, she had dealt with such things before. As long as SHE herself kept the respectable distance, nothing would go wrong. She might still be only over-interpreting things.
“Thank you for your kindness, Prince Edmund”, she retorted the exaggerated compliment with a smile, as she sat down. “I am glad my appearance is pleasing you.” Had there been a little playful emphasize on the word ‘appearance’, indicating she expected a little more of him than such superficialities? Well, perhaps, but she wasn’t sure if she even wanted him to catch on. There was only so much praise you could endure.

Inclining her head in silent approval, Yassia then let her gaze wander over the many delicacies laid out on the table before her. She wasn’t really hungry, but of course she would eat a little to not appear discourteous. Then she raised her own goblet as well, finding nothing wrong with this toast at all. “To our friendship and the friendship of Mercia and Ailantha!” she agreed, taking a small sip. Good vintage, but heavy. She would have to be careful not to drink too much of that wine. But inwardly, Yassia relaxed again and helped herself to some venison and berries. Friendship, he had said. Of course, that was all there was to it! Calm down, Yassia!

[Oliver Strathmore of Mercia]

“I am glad my appearance is pleasing you.”

"Please don't get me wrong. The last time I have actually seen you all dressed up was back in Camelot. And it was for King Arthur. To see you put effort into this dinner, for me, I feel deeply honored and privileged," Edmund replied, wondering if Oliver had already used up all the compliments there is when he had fetched Yassia from her chambers, because it sounded to him that she was getting a little too tired of it now.

Edmund had actually noticed the closeness that was growing between Oliver and Yassia since that incident with the sword. While Oliver had seemed to be completely supportive of Edmund's intentions towards the princess, it seemed his brother wasn't doing much to similarly encourage Yassia. Edmund knew he was spending more time with the princess than his brother does, but Yassia's treatment of him continue to be as civil and platonic when they had first met. Had Oliver been seeing Yassia behind his back? No, Oliver wouldn't betray him like that, Edmund told himself. Blood is thicker than water, after all. Oliver may have been quite the rebel back in the days, but he had seen him change and was indeed becoming the dutiful son of Mercia that everybody expected him to be. He wouldn't do such a thing as to snatch Yassia from his own brother, would he?

"I wish someday I could travel to Ailantha. I'm pretty sure it is a lovely country. I have been to most kingdoms here in Albion, but never overseas," Edmund remarked after the toast. Then he started partaking of the hearty spread in front of them as Yassia did. He was particularly fond of the medium rare steak that he had specifically requested for tonight's dinner.

[Yassia Dyfrène de Ailantha]

As soon as she was seated, Yassia felt more at ease with the situation, and she almost visibly felt her muscles relax and her mood to loosen up quite a bit. She had been very formal out of self-defense, but she knew Edmund deserved better than a haughty mask. She would never reach the same level of understanding with him than with Oliver, but that was mostly not his fault at all. Oliver and her had a history together, and as much as they’d like to deny and forget it, it made their conversations and encounters different from those to other people. They already had known much of each other – and in the end not much at all.
"Well, of course you deserve this honor, Edmund!” she replied, a little more warmly. "You have been so kind to me all throughout my stay, and you have offered me your support right away. The least I can do to at least partly repay that, is giving you my whole attention tonight for this dinner, don’t you think?”

And she felt even better now the subject started to steer towards Ailantha, terra firma for her in more than just one sense. Her eyes lit up and began to gleam with fondness and pride when she thought about her beautiful little country. It was just small and basically consisted of one larger valley and vast mountain plains above that, but she couldn’t be any prouder of it had it been the size of Albion. "It is truly a shame Mercia and Ailantha are separated by so many miles!” she sighed a little wistfully. "But the journey is worth the effort, I tell you! The valley is lush, guarded by woods that reach up almost as high as the mountain plains that separate it from adjoining kingdoms. Our palace is not as heavily fortified as many castles I have seen on my journey, it is more elegant and pleasant on the eye.”

Yassia hardly found time to take a bite or a sip in between as the words started to pour out of her mouth. Her voice was laden with reverence, but also with a little sadness, belying her homesickness. Almost two years it was now since she had parted from these lands, and she wondered how much would have changed. But before she could lose herself in such thoughts, she realized what she just had been doing, and gave a little embarrassed laugh, looking at Edmund.
"I'm sorry, but whenever Ailantha is mentioned, there is no stopping me. I’m sure it is the same for you though, Prince Edmund, whenever you tell someone of Mercia. You have every right and reason to be proud of your kingdom, and you will one day be an excellent ruler to it.”

She took another bite of meat, but realized with some amusement that it was medium rare. She had witnessed the people of Albion’s fondness for not well-done meat before, also in Camelot on many occasions, but it was one of the things hardest to get used to. She’d know exactly what Suzanna would say to that, as she had done so before to tease Yassia’s mother, Queen Rhiannon. ‘If they don’t even have time to roast their meat right, what DO these savages in the north get up to all the time?’.

[Oliver Strathmore of Mercia]

A rather abashed smile flitted across Edmund's face at Yassia's words. Oliver can tell him all he wants that Edmund doesn't have genuine feelings of love for the princess, but right now Edmund was quite undeniably reduced to a smitten admirer. Her words meant so much to Edmund, and he felt thoroughly glad that Yassia was giving him her full attention for the night. This was starting out to be a good and worthwhile dinner. And Edmund was merely letting the emotions around them simmer for a bit before he goes in for the kill, or so they say in hunter parlance. "Thank you, princess. It really means so much to me. I sincerely hope I can give you more than what you have given me these past few days. You have been nothing but gracious and generous of your attention to this humble prince," he expressed.

Edmund listened to her speak fondly of her country. There was nothing but pride there for her homeland, and Edmund could just imagine her gushing about Mercia when it becomes her own kingdom as well. "Sounds like paradise. I would live to feast my eyes on the beauty of your country. Perhaps as soon as the council gives us the army we need, I would love to march beside you, keep you company on your journey back home. Would you like that?" Edmund asked. If he were to make her his queen, it would only be fitting that he himself help her save her people, that he himself command the army that Mercia would grant her.

Yassia's next words elicited a hearty laugh from the Crown Prince. "Of course, Mercia is home. To me, there is no kingdom greater in all of Albion than my own homeland. We are a strong and fierce people, and would do everything in our power to take and protect what is rightfully ours. Granted the weather could get nasty here in the north, but it only taught us to be resilient, to be survivors wherever in the world we may be. You could hardly find a Mercian who is a whiner," Edmund explained, winking at her. She had spoke about him being a good ruler, and he gave her a rather meaningful look. He put his goblet of wine down, and leaned into the table towards Yassia. 

"I can only be as good a ruler as the people who follow me. And I personally believe that I can only be as strong as the woman who would rule Mercia beside me someday. Finding such a queen, a queen who is as strong as she is beautiful, is no easy task," he confessed. He eyed Yassia with burning intensity, hoping she would pick up in his subtle clues. Yes, he had been looking so hard for his queen in all of Albion, but had failed time and again. He only realized now that one he needed was a remarkable princess from the foreign lands, for how else would one explain Yassia's reason for crossing the seas if not to be his queen. Yes, Edmund was quite convinced of that.

[Yassia Dyfrène de Ailantha]

It seemed see had made up for her initial stiffness, and Yassia was honestly glad. She liked Edmund in his own way, even though he sometimes was a little too much for comfort. Maybe that came with being a crown prince? Yassia could quite imagine that, since she remembered her brother Ramon to be the same in so many ways. He had been nineteen the year he had been killed, and as headstrong and proud as you could find a man in all Ailantha. But everything he had done, he had still tried to do for the good of his kingdom, and the people had loved him and had been deeply enraged and grieving at his sudden and unexpected loss. Even thoug Yassia thought Edmund far from humble, she wasn’t offended or irritated at his words. They were just courteous after all, phrases, and no one could blame him for using them in this society. His brother was already blunt enough for both of them anyway. And she REALLY shouldn’t be comparing them constantly, Edmund truly deserved better than that!
”I wasn’t aware I was giving so much”, Yassia replied with a little chuckle. “But I dearly hope it was enough. There’s only so much you can do to repay exuberant generosity and friendship. But believe me when I say that I couldn’t be more thankful for it all!”

His next words actually shocked her, and she didn’t even know if in a positive or a negative way. This offer was yet again so MUCH, far TOO much in her eyes, and she knew she hardly could accept it. “Edmund!” she exclaimed, a hand darting to her mouth, for a moment forgetting and foregoing all formality. “I could never ask this of you! You are the crown prince of Mercia! Your first and foremost duty should lie with your own country, not mine! I have yet to find out how much of a danger I will be facing. We could be walking straight into a throne war. How could I ever look your father and mother in the eye again, if I was taking their eldest son, the hope of their future away from them into grave danger.?! If anything would happen to you…” No, she really had not expected this, and she wonder what had made him offer it. Was that all still ‘only’ extreme chivalry and goodwill?

It was far easier there to listen to Edmund’s proud praise of his people. He was clearly not mincing matters, but again Yassia was more amused than taken aback. She had been proud of her country before, so why shouldn’t he be proud of his and its people? And judging by the few Mercians she had met, he could be only right about that. All of those had been strong and proud, sure of themselves and their abilities. Like Caitrin for example.
”Is that why you were at war with Camelot for years?” she asked, cocking her head in interest. “I’ve heard rumors of course, but I wasn’t in Albion yet when the peace treaty was agreed on, and everyone seems inclined on forgetting that war very quickly.” Who could blame them, really? War was such a sad fact in many people’s life, so when one was finally overcome you could only rejoice and hope the next wouldn’t be so quickly afoot.

Edmund was now talking about finding a queen for himself, and Yassia felt her unease slowly return. Was there a reason he was elaborating this in front of her, or was he merely trying to uphold conversation. There was a certain appraising look in his eyes while he spoke this words, and this look was directed at her. Now what should she say? What if she was overreacting again, and saw signs where there were none? She’d make a right fool off herself if she now assumed things readily! It was better to circumnavigate as best as she could!
“I am sure you will find that one soon, Prince Edmund!” she encouraged him and raised her goblet in a casual toast, before taking a sip. “A man like you? It shouldn’t be that hard!”

[Oliver Strathmore of Mercia]

"Had I known that you were practically stranded in Camelot waiting for help for your country, I would have come sooner, and you need not have waited so long," Edmund said. That was true. Had he met Yassia earlier, had he known about her plight, he would have just as quickly come to her aid as he did when she told him a few days ago. He would have helped her sooner and at the same time, he would have ended his search for a queen as well. Nearly two years, Yassia had waited. So much could have already happened in two years. Edmund would have probably been married to her, and Yassia would have already saved her people from her ruthless usurper uncle. So much time had been wasted. It only made Edmund want to propose now than wait until after desert.

The shock on her face was unmistakable, and Edmund appreciated that she regarded him so highly to want him to go to war with her. While he appreciated her concern, she would understand soon enough why Edmund was so bold as to make the offer. A king would not abandon his queen in her time of need. Together, they will successfully take Ailantha back and help rebuild it before they return to Mercia with all the glory. Lord Bayard and Lady Adelaide would understand that the risk would be worth it. "You know I would do anything for you, princess. Anything to see you smile, to wipe that constant worried crease on your forehead...All I want is for you to be happy," Edmund said rather boldly now again dropping his usual subtle hints to prepare Yassia for what was soon to come.

”Is that why you were at war with Camelot for years?”

"Camelot was very much the most coveted prize with its rich resources and strategic location. Both kingdoms were strong and steadfast. But in the end, we all realized no one really wins in a war. Everybody loses, especially the people. The peace treaty was signed a couple of years ago, but not without hitches," Edmund remembered the story clearly, like it had happened just yesterday. How could he forget? All of them, his mother, his younger brother, they were all worried about their father walking into enemy territory with no guarantee but Uther's good faith. "They accused my father of planning to poison Arthur, and they jailed him and his men when the servant who drank from Arthur's cup fell to the floor writhing in agony. Of course, almost all of the Mercian army immediately marched to Camelot to save our king, ready to wage a full out war. We didn't know how it happened, but before we arrived, they released my father and our people, and blamed the incident at some sorceress. Had they not acted sooner, there would have been bloodshed." Edmund didn't realize until later that he had practically gushed about that unfortunate incident to Yassia. He gave her an apologetic smile. "My apologies, princess, I didn't mean to relive such a horrible event on a lovely night. All is well between Mercia and Camelot now, that is what's important."

As she wished him well in finding his queen soon, Edmund couldn't help but wonder if she really doesn't have any clue at all. Despite the many times they have spent alone together, albeit they were mainly harmless activities, does Yassia still don't know that she had captivated this prince? Well, she already did back in Camelot, and Edmund had hoped that she had grown fonder of him now that they were in closer proximity to each other, now that they were spending more time together in Mercia. "Trust me, it is hard, princess. Queens are not made by the dozen," he said as he sipped from his goblet after accepting her casual toast. This was now or never, Edmund told himself. "But my search has finally come to an end. It took a while, but it was worth the wait."

And with that, Edmund shifted to take something out from a small bag near his plate. Then he turned to Yassia and gave her a small smile. He stood from his seat and walked around the table towards where Yassia was. And then Edmund slowly dropped to his knees and held up a ring. "Princess Yassia, will you do me the honor of becoming my queen?" he said, locking his eyes into hers.

[Yassia Dyfrène de Ailantha]

It would have been truly something, had fate decided to let her cross paths with the incredibly helpful royal family of Mercia sooner. What had the stars been thinking anyway, keeping her away from her kingdom for almost two years now, she had been nearly given up hope! But then, in that amount of time, she had met many people who she never would have wanted to miss. It had given her the time to deepen her friendship to Caitrin, she had formed a close bond to her uncle Kaye as well, and now could fairly say Albion had become her second home. She had been born a child of two cultures, but only now had learned to appreciate the other half. Maybe that had been meant to be. What surprised her a little though, was that Edmund was constantly talking about it all in the first person. Not once he had included his father, the rest of his family or the whole of Mercia, just as if this was nothing but a personal affair between him and her. Or was she reading too much into his words again? “What’s done is done, Edmund, and maybe there was a good reason behind it all”, Yassia said softly, cocking her head. “I didn’t have only tedious times in Camelot, there were times I’d hardly like to miss. For example the time spent with Caitrin de Archer, soon-to-be Aubert. I never had such a good friend as her.”

But what would have happened for example, if not a whole year had passed since Oliver and her had parted. Would they have been so quick to accuse each other of falsehood then, with their first encounter a little fresher in mind? It seemed inevitable… once again Oliver had found a way into her imminent thoughts, and she was in peril of slipping back into the land of what-might-have-been. It could not be, it simply had to stop! Almost forcefully, she banned Oliver from her mind and focussed on what his brother had to say. Only that WHAT he said wasn’t much made to make her feel more comfortable. Once again, he only spoke of himself, what HE would do for her and that he would stop at nothing. For Yassia’s taste, that sounded far too much like a subtle declaration of love – and that was nothing she could deal with right now. Had she maybe sent out the wrong signals? But then, when had she EVER done anything to encourage Edmund? She could honestly not recall, on the contrary, she always had feared behaving too distant and formal towards him.
Giving a little awkward laugh, she couldn’t quite hide a blush that was more born out of feeling uncomfortable than flattered. “Thank you Edmund. Knowing that means a lot to me. And with your help I will certainly be able to smile more often in the future.”

His views about war she could only second. It showed that he would be one day a fine king, if he had realized such crucial things already. Maybe you needed to grow up in war or experience it first hand to know that there might be one beginning but no end to it, given half the chance. No one had ever told her the story of the difficult peace treaty in such detail, and Yassia was quite mesmerized by it. That must have been quite a tense adventure indeed! “I am glad things could be sorted out before a battle started”, she mused and smiled wearily. “Because I couldn’t agree more: If war even has one winner at all, it would be death. He’s getting a find reaping.”

Maybe she shouldn’t have pressed the matter of a Queen for Edmund on, Yassia thought uneasily, as she waited for him to say something.She should have just passed it on. The feeling of oncoming dread had intensified again during the last few moments, and suddenly it seemed like the walls of this room were closing in on her, encaging her, keeping her captive. It was an unreasonable reaction of course, but Yassia knew enough about her instincts to fear them, trust them. Something was afoot. It felt like the silence before the first crash of thunder that would start a tempest. Like the whole nature was holding their breath. Such it had felt the instant before she had seen the messenger arrive in the palace, bringing the gruesome news of her mother’s and brother’s death. Such it had felt an instant before her father had drawn his last breath, and Yassia knew what it meant. Her stars were changing. And there was nothing she could do to hold them in their place. A tiny part of her was still clinging to the furtive hope that she was overreacting, even as she numbly heard Edmund say something about that his search had come to and end.

And then it came, the deafening crash of thunder.
"Princess Yassia, will you do me the honor of becoming my queen?"
Yassia heard his words, she saw Edmund’s gleaming eyes, she saw the ring. But she could not react. It was too much. With these few words her world came crashing down. For every other woman in the world, this proposal would have meant heaven, for Yassia it meant hell. It was not that she despised Edmund even, or that it was the wrong brother asking her. No, she didn’t even think of that at that moment. All she could think of was:
’You monster… you make me choose between my kingdom and my people.’ He hadn't even asked her to become his WIFE. He wanted her to be his QUEEN. And if she accepted, she would never become Queen of Ailantha. But if she refused… he would withdraw his offer for help and she needed it. Her people needed it. But there was no one else but her who could bear the crown if it wasn’t Guifré or Stephane. There was no way out of this. Either way she chose, she could not win.
”Edmund… I…” again she gave an awkward little laugh, blinking rapidly and covering her mouth with one hand to keep her composure. “I… really didn’t expect that…”