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It wasn’t quite as easy for Yassia to work against the Crown Council, those traditional old men, like Caitrin depicted it, but the princess chose to let the matter drop for now. She would concern herself with thoughts of marriage when they became imminent, and not a second before. Without her kingdom, there was no use pondering over un-crossed bridges anyway. Maybe, when she was firmly settled, or at least had driven her uncle away so there was no other claimant for the throne, she could ask them to reconsider, and if they wouldn’t she would keep her eyes open for a suitable match, someone that took her fancy. Surely, there had be some of Mircea’s friends, Contes and knights, who weren’t bad looking at all, and maybe they had matured a little in the two years she would have been gone by then. You never knew.

Yassia cocked her head in interest when Caitrin declared she wanted to have fun. Now, what was going on in that mischievous head of hers again, she thought with great amusement. Trust Caitrin to make the most out of such a situation, and even though Yassia usually wasn’t that kind of troubleshooter, she knew she would enjoy this, whatever it would turn out to be. She even had to clamp a hand over her mouth to stiffle a chuckle, as she realized what Caitrin was about to do. While she watched the stone fly somewhere into the bushes and cause the desired rustling that alarmed the hunters, her own hand felt on the ground for another thing to throw. Her hand closed around a pebble, and just as she was about to mimick Caitrin’s move, just throwing it into a different direction to confuse Oliver and Jeffrey more, when she spied something just above Oliver’s head in the branches of a tree. It was a comparably huge nest, and it seemed deserted, since it already had come unstable at one point.

Measuring the distance, she then tugged at Caitrin’s sleeve and pointed there, a mischievous glinting in her eyes. Her aim might have been a little untested lately, but she still thought she could make it. Closing one eye, she took aim and threw the stone, but as soon as it left her hand, she knew she would miss and she let go an annoyed grunt before she could stop herself.

"Maleeixo... that won't work!"

There was just something about this moment that was simply … magical, as dangerous as it was to use this word in Albion. But Yassia simply had no other word for it, it was just too good to be true. A wonderful sweet dream, after a series of frightening and discouraging nightmares. Only that she wasn’t dreaming. In fact, when Oliver held her close, nearly squishing the air out of her lungs, Yassia felt like she had never been so alive and awake in all her life. She was in no mood to really question the star’s ways, but she still wondered how this could possibly have ended up so easy and straight a path after all they both had been through. Had it really taken them just this one final threat, this final confrontation to make them both see the erring of their ways. Just a few moments before Yassia had wanted to turn her back on not only this life but also the stars and her beliefs, simply not able to bear how cruel they were, hurting her without a purpose.But now she saw their purpose as clear as day, and even though it still angered her that the methods they had used were so cruel, she couldn’t help but feel inclined to thanking them still. In the end, they had brought her together with Oliver after all, they had granted her her dearest wish, and those less than favourable circumstances had in the end just helped to convince her that she would never take him for granted.

But this moment was also too precious for indulging too much into metaphysical ponderings, and even more so, since the physical part of this encounter was slowly coming to the forefront of Yassia’s mind. Up until now, she had been too desperate to really savor what had been given to her, but now she greeted every touch Oliver inflicted on her with a jubilant heart and fluttering nerves. Oh sweet stars how she had missed it all, this feeling of him and her being allowed to touch, without that discord of differences between them. Before now, every touch of them had been more bitter than sweet, but now the bitterness had vanished completely, and the differences along with it. Now it was only the most tender of feelings and the sweetest of scent, and it made Yassia hungry for more. Before they departed from their embrace, the princess took a deep breath and inhaled Oliver’s lovely odor, that intoxicating mix of horses, leather and hay – now intensified of course since he had seemed to sleep here – and that special note she never could quite identify, but what unmistakenly was ‘Oliver’. In this embrace, surrounded by his familiar and loved odor, Yassia knew she had finally found the place where she belonged. The kingdom didn’t matter. Home was and always would be where this man was, where his arms were.

There was one piece of the puzzle still missing, one that would seal their agreement and make it all complete, perfect. And she needn’t wait long. Every fibre of Yassia’s body practically screamed with longing as she felt Oliver’s hands cup her face, and then his lips finally, finally met hers. Even though it had just started, Yassia knew this was the best kiss they had ever shared. It started out heartbreakingly sweet, almost unsure, but soon took up a passion that seemed to sweep them both away. And Yassia knew that even if she had wanted to, she would not be able to hold back this time; she did more than just respond, she opened up and poured her all into this passionate, hungry kiss, telling Oliver without words how much she had missed him, how much she wanted to do just that until the end of time.
When they parted for air, Yassia’s chest was heaving and her breath came only in short gasps, but her eyes were shining as bright as ten suns. She felt like on the verge of bursting, but she did not mind, it was a sweet pain, the sweetest their was. “Then you have just made me the happiest woman alive”, she whispered back and eagerly met him halfway for theit next kiss, not bearing to be seperated from him for too long.

Yassia knew that she normally wasn’t this person, that she even go uncomfortable by such an open display of affection and the physical closeness she was now experiencing with Oliver, only the thin layers of clothing seperating their bodies, but somehow it felt like the most natural of things. Was that how Caitrin felt with Griff? Suddenly it seemed like Yassia could understand her friend so much better, and the word ‘scandalous’ was as farthest from her mind as possible. “Sweet stars, how I love you!” she whispered and then boldly reached up to entangle her hand in his wonderful hair, playing with the golden locks while her other hand sneaked around his waist. To her the world could have just stopped at this very moment, and she would not care. There was only her and Oliver, inside a bubble of bliss and passion. What came later could come later.

A de Archer, as sure as the morning followed the night! Yassia couldn’t help the bright smile that blossomed on her face when the young girl, Aoife apparently, confirmed her previous suspicion that she was indeed a relative of Caitrin’s, though by which degree, she could not make out for the life of her. She hadn’t exactly asked Caitrin for a detailed family tree whenever they had actually talked about her relatives. Maybe this Lord Bryce was one of Caitrin’s older siblings? Or he might just be a cousin, in the end it didn’t really matter. Yassia just felt elated at the thought of meeting yet another member of the de Archer family, just because her bond of friendship with Caitrin was so strong. And well, maybe it was also her current situation that made her easily excited about virtually everything. Even if Aoife had not been a little de Archer lady, Yassia would have probably felt happy to meet her. What a blessing it turned out to be, not a curse that her horse had lost its shoe! Like this, she would meet a few more of Oliver’s people before they had to leave, and in considerably casual surroundings as well, not so formal, like it would be on the wedding. The wedding… sweet stars, how her heart started to flutter at the mere thought. Before they left for Ailantha, there would be a first official wedding for them in Mercia, after their traditions, since Lady Adelaide was not willing to let them leave without their bond being firmly secured first. Well, Yassia could not blame her, really, every mother wanted to be present at her child’s wedding!

Too late she realized she had been spacing out yet again, and Yassia hoped not too much time had passed since the Lady Aoife’s words and her reaction. She honestly could not tell. Letting the smile linger on her face, she said: “I’m delighted to meet another member of the de Archer family. Do you know the Lady Caitrin de Archer? I’m not sure what your relation to her would be, but she’s been the best friend to me I could have ever wish for. I owe her a great deal.” Maybe this was not the time or the place to take up the cudgels for Caitrin with her estranged family, but Yassia merely didn’t care. She meant every word like she said it, and Caitrin deserved to be praised, even in her absence. “Are your parents away?” she inquired curiously, as still no one had been forthcoming to take the responsibility of hostess from the girl. “I am sorry to intrude at such a time, but I know myself in good hands with you!”

She was led into a rather tasteful solar and situated herself on one of the cushioned chairs. Smiling, she waved her hand dismissively as the young hostess offered her refreshments. “No no, I am fine. Please don’t work yourself in circumstances because of me, I had a drink shortly before I ventured on my ride.” Then she leant back a little, making herself at home, and bit her lip to not chuckle about Aoife’s casually curious question. She had expected something like that sooner or later, no doubt of it, and she didn’t mind the girl asking. She knew she would have done the same thing, had she been in Aoife’s shoes. Getting visitors was always exciting, and even more so when it were such… alien visitors. Yassia didn’t know what news had spread or how far, so she had no idea if anyone outside the castle knew more about her than that she was apparently a guest.
”Don’t worry, it is so far away from here that it is no shame never having heard of it”, she reassured Aoife, then continued to explain: “It is a small kingdom between huge mountains, far away south on the continent. It took me about two months to get to Albion, but then I also lost my way quite often.”

Of course he would try to get a word in edgewise, such was just how Oliver worked, trying to talk himself out of anything,but Yassia was in no mood to give him that satisfaction. What please did she not understand?! What WAS there not to understand?! Oliver was showing her the same ‘courtesy’ Edmund had shown her, but just like his elder brother for the perfectly wrong reason. He knew she had nowhere to go now, except back, and he was offering her a chance to make it all better, but especially from him, she had expected so much more. Was that wrong? Was she really hard to please and difficult, everything he had called her out on? But no, she would not accept crumbs off the master’s table now, even though she was already down? Oliver had made it oh-so-clear that he was not after any commitment, that his feelings for her had died down, if they ever had really existed. In the end, it always came down to words. His declarations of love to her had been mere words, saying that he didn’t want anyone to know about what had happened in the Forest of Balor had been words. His apology after he had kissed her at the river had been words. And now he asked her to marry him so she could have Ailantha. Words, words, words, Yassia was genuinely tired of words.

She took an impulsive step back when he reached out for her. She couldn’t dare to allow physical contact now or else she knew she would break. She could not allowe herself to break, she could not show weakness, not infront of him. That would only make him pity her more, and she did not want to see that special expression in his eyes, it would break her heart to not even just suspect it, but SEE it. She wanted Oliver to love her, to cherish her, to adore her, and if she could not have that, at least she didn’t want the opposite. So Yassia tried to keep at least a physical distance, if she couldn’t have the emotional one. No, she had long since lost every emotional distance, and she just feared she would fall down on her knees and beg him to turn back time, as pathetic as it sounded. She was already down in the pits, so it would not be such a great step, if she only allowed herself. And as long as she could keep a distance, that would never happen. At least she hoped not.

"I don't want to wake up every morning beside a woman I married for pity either."
He said, in a voice Yassia could not interpret for the life of her. How did it he mean that? What did he want to say? Oh why did he always have to be so bloomingly cryptical! She could feel her anger die down just a notch because of her confusion. There was no room for anger when you had to muddle through a heap of confusing words and their possible meaning. And yet again, it were words! If you thought about it, everything was always alright between Yassia and Oliver when they didn’t talk- Words had caused all of their misunderstandings and arguments, misplaced words, misunderstood words… why couldn’t it simply stop?!
”Well… then that’s one thing we agree on”, she commented rather faintly, and not as acidly as she had initially wanted to. Why was it she could never stay angry at Oliver for long? Even in confusing her, he was rather disarming in the long run!

And then it came… the thing Yassia had absolutely not expected. Oliver went ahead and confessed his love. A love that had never been absent as he claimed. No, nothing in the world could have ever prepared Yassia for this confession, and she felt the ground wavering beneath his feet, which caused her to stumble and blindly reach out for nothing. There was no wall nearby that could steady her. Could this really be true? That he had only been stepping back because he had known that Edmund wanted her. And… had she really convinced him she hated him? Well, she had not done anything to make him think otherwise either, that was for sure. But then, why hadn’t he declared himself either?! Why make her think he had forgotten all about the things they had shared? It just didn’t make any sense!
”I don’t hate you…” she heard herself whisper, feeling oddly detached from her body. "I was angry, and I was hurt… but I never hated you. But you… how can I know this is true? You said to me that you wanted us to be friends… nothing more. You said that no one could know about us. You called me a heartless player and a liar. Please Oliver…” There she was, foregoing her pride after all, begging him. “Make me believe you... somehow.”

Yassia’s chest was heaving with her agitation after she had emptied her heart and soul like that, and she felt being taken over by a rush of anger and adrenaline. Getting it all off her chest might have soothed her feelings a little, but it had also brought the injustice and the general chaos of this situation back to the forefront of her mind, where it was doing its poisonous work like a festering wound. She dared not hope Oliver would really understand, she almost hoped instead he would counter her, would shout back at her, so she could gratefully pour out all her frustration over his head. But he did not shout, he didn’t even say anything at all for a long time. Had her words really had had such an impact?
But it didn’t make her stop and think, it didn’t satisfy her enough to calm down, on the contrary: Now she was spoiling for a fight! His stunned expression at the thought of her being destined to be Queen of Ailantha only made her sneer and scoff. “What? Can’t imagine a woman to rule a kingdom, eh? I’ve seen that Albion runs a bit short of female rulers, but I thought a man with such a mother would not be victim to these prejudices. Seems I was wrong yet again.” Oh yes, her words were definitely meant to hurt now, to sting. The thistle… she was living up to that nickname quite well yet again. But this time, the memory of that night did not make her smile, it only fuelled her anger. It was this ignorance that had driven her away from her home in the first place, the ignorance and short-sightedness of men who were not willing to see that a woman could rule on her own. Oh no, of course she needed the strong hand of a man to guide her…

Since Oliver was not reacting to her challenges, Yassia felt quite at loss after a few seconds, and watched with irriitation as all he did was leading her horse back into its stall. Hey… he could not just do that…right?! Once again someone had the gall to decide for her. So he though she wasn’t leaving?! Well, she would show him! If she couldn’t have a horse, then she would go on foot, she would walk right past him, her head held high, and walk out of the castle, out of his life. Try and stop me! She thought grimly and took the first step – until he spoke at last and his words turned Yassia into a pillar of salt.
"Marry me,"
… WHAT??!! Had she just heard him right?! Yassia darted around to stare at him, as aghast as he had been just a few moments earlier. She must have misheard… he could not mean that… it was completely crazy… more than crazy, it was idiotic! Why would he…?
"You can still have the Mercian army and rule Ailantha as queen...if you marry me."
There… he said it again. But Yassia still couldn’t believe it, couldn’t believe that two times inside a day, she would be so horribly betrayed. What was he thinking?! That she would now hurl herself at him, sob at his chest and call him her savior?!

She DID approach on him – but only to give him the possibly mightiest slap of his life. All her desperation, all her anger and sadness lay in this impressive slap that made her think she might have well sprained her wrist. Her fingers didn’t hurt or tingle with the impact, they went completely numb.
It took a few moments for her to muster the strength to speak, and when she did, she could not should, she could only bring herself to voice a seething, hoarse whisper. “You DARE to say such a thing? You dare to offer something like that?! Oliver Leofric Strathmore de Mercia, you are the vilest bastard I’ve ever come across! Do you think I’ve sunken so low yet? Do you think I have no more pride left?!” Now her voice started to quiver and she angrily blinked the burning tears away that wanted so desperate to quell out of her eyes. “At least your brother desired me, I could see it in his eyes. But you… you would make me agree to a marriage on THESE grounds?! I thought we were friends! Do you really know me so little?! I’d rather fight my uncle singlehanded than wake up every morning beside a man who married me for PITY!”

This was why she hated this place, Yassia told herself, suppressing a very unladylike curse as she dragged herself through this horrible woodland. The day was only starting, but she had had enough. Everything was cold and damp, her feet hurt and her muscles protested with every step. She was only slowly getting used to travelling on foot, and sometimes it looked like she never would. She hadn’t been born for this after all! In Ailantha, the morning air would be crisp, but clear, and there would not be any fog weighing down on your shoulders like a blanket, covering everything in moist and muffling every sound, so that you constantly had the hunch that something or someone was following you. It didn’t help either that the people of the last village had seriously warned her of this forest. It was said to be crawling with bandits and cutthroats, and even though Yassia knew how to defend herself to some extent, she knew she had no chance against more than two – and these people always hunted in packs, like the wolves they were.

So she had tried to make it work by setting out at first light, hoping that the bandits would still be asleep while she passed through. The most dangerous time was said to be early evening anyway, right? That was when they came crawling out of their hiding, and not early morning. So this was why she had to put up with a cold and damp morning and a rumbling stomach to boot. All for her safety’s sake. The stars prevent she would be laden with even more misfortune than she already was! That would be the bottom of the line, surely, her being ambushed and mistreated by a band of rogues… way to go Princess Yassia!
She really didn’t feel much like a princess now, as she was trying not to lose her path in the mist that just didn’t seem to want to lift and give way to at least a few rays of sun. Not that there was much sun in this country anyway. Seriously, how did people survive here without becoming all doom and gloom? It was certainly starting to have an effect on Yassia! She trudged on, wrapping her threadbare cloak tightly around her slender frame and keeping her head covered with its hood

Lost in such not very happy thoughts, she only kept an eye on what was immediately before her, and also her general caution might be seriously lacking, trusting too much on the firm belief that early morning wasn’t the time for an attack. How wrong she was, Yassia realized with a sudden lurch of fear, as she felt something sharp through the fabric of her cloak against her back. Immediately after, a voice spoke, and what it said made Yassia’s heart falter and nearly stop.
“Don’t scream, just tell me, what is your business in this wood?”
What, no call for money, not one of the usual phrases? What was this man after? Yassia didn’t even dare to move her head to check if he was alone or not, and she didn’t allow herself to be relieved that no call for money was yet forthcoming – as she didn’t have much to speak of. The way he spoke made her fear there was something else he was after, why else would he ask about her business? What could she tell him?! Was he maybe… her stomach gave a fearful lurch at that though – was he maybe after HER in person? Had she somehow left too easy a track to follow for her uncle’s men? Had they now caught up with her?

Well, there was only one thing she could do: pretend to be a man for as long as she could, and try to work out an escape route. “I’m just a harmless wanderer, good man, and with little money to boot”, she said with the deepest and most ‘manly’ voice she could possibly manage. “So I suggest you let me go.” The muscles in her legs tightened as she readied herself. As soon as he lowered the blade, she would try and run.

Why did every encounter with Oliver sooner or later have to turn into a bitter war? Why couldn’t they just be civil with each other for once?! It had seemed all so easy when they first had met, but ever since they had found out about each other’s true identities, there seemed to be no reconciliation, at least not for long. Even their day out at the river, where they had shot arrows and eaten berries and a crispy hare, seemed now as far away as the moon and the stars combined. And slowly Yassia grew tired of it, but then she grew tired of it all. She was tired of the constant fighting, the pushing on and on towards a seemingly unreachable goal, and she was tired of all the obstacles that were constantly thrown in her way, everytime her life seemed to slow down a bit and give her some space to breathe. What was the Albion saying her mother had often used? The pitcher goes often to the well, but is broken at last? Well, it certainly seemed like Yassia was very much close to her breaking point now, and it wouldn’t take her long to have that final go.

And he just didn’t seem to GET it! How hard was it to take a look at things from her point of view? Was she being too egoistic insisting on her side of things, or was that a fault to be fault with Oliver?! Caitrin knew almost the same things as he did, and she had been nothing but understanding! She had even offered to support Yassia with her own men, if only she had them, to win back Ailantha. And she had asked for NOTHING in return, except being kept up to date. THAT was true friendship in Yassia’s eyes, and so she couldn’t very well be living in a total illusion. Had she only seen it before, had she only had an inkling that Edmund had been really so enamoured with her… sweet stars, she would have kept him at a friendly distance much much earlier on! He must have had this planeed for a long time, since the ring he had presented her had looked like right of a goldsmith’s hand. Once again she was angry at herself for being so blind, but that didn’t distract her long from her growing anger at Oliver. Instead of warning her, he had played the matchmaker. How come they all had overlooked the obvious?! Had she really never distinctively mentioned that one important fact to either of the brothers? That SHE would be the desired ruler of Ailantha, as there was no one else she could trust with this?

"Shouldn't you be grateful instead?! Edmund would willingly give you his army, and he could lose them all if the fight for Ailantha goes downhill! He could even lose the trust of his own people for risking our army for you! But you, you have nothing to lose! You are going to be queen!"

Yassia’s mouth literally dropped open at these words, and for a moment she just stared in disbelief. How DARE he speak to her like that, accusing her of willingly letting people die for her and being egoistic, just wanting her own thing. He didn’t know half of what she had to worry about, he never had had to worry about anything in his entire life! He was the charming, good looking, loved second son of a prosperous kingdom! He had a father that would probably live for many more years to come and an apt elder brother who would take over after that. He could fully focus on hunting and having the odd affair, without caring what tomorrow would bring! Truly, how DARE he remind her of responsibilities!
”You don’t know half of it, so better shut up Oliver!” she snapped, glaring hard. It might not be the wisest thing ever said, literally silencing an already angry and drunk prince, but in this moment Yassia merely didn’t care. She was so fed up with always ending up at another dead end and having to justify herself for it.

It might be the alcohol making him say such outrageous things, but in Yassia’s eyes that was far from being an excuse. They were just getting ridiculous now and she would not stand for being called stupid, not by him! He had hurt her in so many ways and just as she thought she might be able to get to terms with it and accept that she could never have him, he tore all her wounds open again.
”’I’ am being difficult?!” she hurled at him, now visbly seething. Her fingers twitched and she could only just refrain from slapping him like she had done on seemingly every occasion they had freaked at each other. But this time she did not do it. Instead, she took a deep breath and released everything on him that had been pent up inside her for hours. “Did any of you EVER stop to think about what I could want in all of this? Did it EVER occur to you that even if I wanted your brother I could not marry him? I can’t Oliver!” she repeated, her voice breaking at his name. “He wants me as his queen, but I cannot be queen of two kingdoms. He made me chose between my people AND my people, can you imagine how that feels?! Maleeixo, it tears me apart!”

When she was approaching the two figures, Yassia didn’t quite know what to expect, and that made her slightly nervous. It wasn’t like she had come to know the Mercian people as unfriendly or anything, on the contrary even, but still, it was one thing to be greeted at a formal reception and something completely else to burst in somehwere and ask for help. It reminded Yassia somehow of those embarassing times, when she had been at her lowest and forced to beg for a crumb of bread or anything else that could fill her starved belly. But no, this was different of course, she needn’t worry so much. Now there was no mistaking her wealth, visible in her horse, her clothes and the way she was able to hold herself, no one would ever suspect her for begging and chase her away like a dog.The closer she got, the better could she make out details from the two figures she had been addressing, The older, a man, clearly seemed to be some stable lad or head groom, as he was caring for one of the horses and some other servants who were around seemed to follow his command. Then there was that young girl. At first, Yassia had taken her for another servant, maybe helping out her father with the horses, but the first thing Yassia noticed was that she wasn’t actually doing anything, she just leaned against the wall and watched, or now pushed away from it to approach her. That was not the usual demeanor of servants, and also her clothes did suggest that she was anything but a serving girl. A younger daughter of the house then? Her ginger hair made Yassia wonder if she was dealing with one of the wider branches of the de Archer family, but maybe that would be too much of a coincidence?

In any way, she needed to take initiative now, or at least wait how her request was being taken. What she had registered subconsciously was the lack of guards on the whole grounds, and when the girl approached her, Yassia began to think that she was the only one of her family greeting her. Suppressing a smile, she watched as the little lady was being aided by the servant in her representative duties. Yassia rememebered all too well how she had felt at that girl’s age, having to play the host for guests. It had gotten worse after her mother had died, but then at leasr Yassia had been fifteen and a little more versed in the complications of court life. The most important thing, she decided, was giving this little lady the impression that she was being taken at face value. So, in response, Yassia bowed her head and smiled at the girl.

”If that could be arranged for, I would be most grateful. And if I am not being a disturbance to you, I would gladly accept your company meanwhile.” After a short moment of consideration she added. “And you must forgive me my thoughtlessness for not introducing myself right away. I am the Princess Yassia Dyfrène de Ailantha. Who do I have the pleasure of meeting?” Of course the young girl had been at least as thoughtless in not providing her with the name of the manor and its owner, but it was always better to take the blame for yourself and therefore give a subtle hint, instead of correcting someone openly on their manners, especially one so young.

Now Yassia had made her decision and prepared everything she could, waiting was the hardest part. She would have to wait until these magical hours where dawn was not far, but still so far off the servants would still be asleep. It would be a tedious night, she already knew that, and her bad conscience didn’t make it any easier to bear. But she did not reconsider, not for long anyway. There was no other way, she had to leave. Now, for the remaining time, she tried to think as little as she could about the consequences. She just knew that she also could not stop by in Camelot and say goodbye to her uncle Kay. That hurt more than most of the other betrayals she was about to inflict on others. Caitrin would be livid, but maybe she’ll understand to an extent. Edmund would feel betrayed of course, but then he soon would find another suitable young girl and be happy with her, without the trouble of having to win back another kingdom first. Oliver… Yassia pushed that thought back. He would probably miss her as a friend, but he soon would find another girl to play with as well. But Sir Kaye… he would be betrayed yet again, by a young woman who had become dear to his heart, vanishing without a trace. She would do voluntarily what her mother had been forced to do. And this time it might break him fully. Why did she have to cause so much pain in her life? She really did not want that! But if there was any other way out of this, she could not see it. Guifré needed to be stopped, and Yassia would have to honor her father’s wish.

King Diodore had said with his dying breath that he did not fear for her future, as he trusted her to make her way. Would he still think so now, after all that had happened? Or would he look down at her with this familiar crease of worry over his eyes? Would he regret to have put so much confidence her, when he saw what happened in his kingdom, while his daughter wasted month after month in foreign lands.
”Volia fer les coses bé, papà.” She whispered, biting her lips. “Però sembla que ho vaig fer tot malament. T’has equivocat. Perdona.”¹ But if her father could hear her, up where he dwelled now with the stars and the souls of his predecessors, he did not give her any sign. The room remained silent and still, and Yassia felt utterly alone.
But she didn’t allow herself to wallow in misery for long. It would immobilize her, make it impossible for her to think, and yet she needed a ready mind now like never before. She had to think up a good excuse why she should be out at this time of day, long before dawn. Well, everyone around here knew her connections with herbs by now... she could easily think up one that had to be collected before the sun rose so it would keep its healing power. She was sure the guards wouldn’t know much about herbs anyway, and then she still had her royal authority to use. She had been a valued guest here, not a prisoner.

Finally the candle in her room showed Yassia enough time had passed, and she stood up, gathering her bag with again trembling hands, taking the two letters with her. She would push them under Caitrin’s and Edmund’s door, as silently as she could, as to not awake them. Gladly the corridors were deserted as she sneaked through the now almost familiar castle. Edmund’s letter was quickly delivered, but Yassia stayed outside Caitrin’s door for quite some moments, her hand hovering over the wooden frame, desperately wanting to knock. But this time, her friend would not be able to help her. It was too late for any second-guessing.
Biting her lips and squaring her shoulders to not lose her composure now. She could not risk making any sound. As silent as a ghost, Yassia made her way across the courtyard, her cloak fluttering behind her like eerie bats’ wings. Once she reached the stables, she slowed down her pace and tried to make really no noise at all, as to not alarm the horses. But of course, some started to grunt, being disturbed in their sleep.

Her own mount wasn’t very happy at all to be bothered at this time of night, it whinnied and stomped its dainty hooves, rearing her head and rolling her eyes as Yassia felt for the bridle. “Shhh... shhh, be quiet!” she whispered urgently. “Don’t you wake your brothers and sisters, no one can know!” There would be no time to saddle the horse, but she had learned to ride without one, so that would not be any trouble. The trouble would be getting the steed out of the stables now. “Come!” she whispered again and tugged at the reins. “Come, we must go!” Her voice broke at the last word, and she had to swallow hard. Great, now they were coming after all, the tears.

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¹: "I wanted to do it well, dad. But I did everything wrong. You were wrong. Forgive me."