She woke up in Lord Huntington's arms. She hardly remembered when they had made their way to her room or how they had done so without removing their lips from one another. They hadn't done anything too scandalous, just kissed and stayed up talking until they'd fallen asleep in each other's arms, and yet Briar awoke feeling safer and happier than she ever remembered feeling before. An innumerable amount of rebels were outside of these walls at this very instant, hunting for her to kill her, and yet here in this warm bed with the man she loved, she never felt safer or more at ease.

She watched him sleep, the sunlight reflecting off of his blonde curls as he dozed in peaceful slumber. She wondered what he dreamed of and found herself feeling a touch of jealousy for whoever got to occupy the space of his subconscious. That absurd notion alone was enough to remind her of her love for him. Only a fool in love would have such a thought.

He was Lord Huntington now but could he be a King? That was the thought that had kept her up for most of the night after he had fallen asleep. She had seen the way in which he ran his keep. She had seen the loyalty of his men, the love of his servants, had known of his honor herself. He had all the hallmarks of a great man but were they the same characteristics that made for a good King?

She tried to remember what Sir Alfred had told her when she had first learned of her uncle's interest in marrying her off to Prince Lucien of the Balienese. He had made the point that Kings sometimes had to make difficult decisions and a good man, an honest and humble man, may pause in the face of his morality. But wasn't morality a good thing? Particularly when making decisions which would impact generations to come. Wasn't making the moral choice always making the right choice? Even when it was difficult to do so.

She wasn't sure. And she wasn't sure what sort of king Sterling Huntington would be. But she knew that he would make her a better Queen and wasn't that all she could truly hope for?

It wasn't a moot point. He hadn't asked her to marry him but she had a feeling he would. She'd overheard his conversation with Adelaide about the rebels' demands. He had implied that he'd considered matrimony when it came to her, only that he hadn't wanted to be forced into it by a horde of armed combatants. And that was understandable. But then, would he propose anyway? Even if they were being threatened for him to do so, it was what he wanted anyway, wasn't it?

She frowned then, feeling doubtful for the first time, and that was when he opened his eyes.

"Please tell me that is not a look of regret," he groaned, his eyes still mostly closed. She giggled and sat up on the mattress, looking down at him through the curtain of her hair which fell over her face.

"We leave today," she reminded him. "Alfred will be coming to fetch me any moment. I imagine you won't wish to be here when he does."

That spurred him to action. Sterling leapt from the bed and ran for the door, pausing in the threshold to turn back and lean over for one quick kiss before he was off down the hall to pretend to wake up in his own bed. She chuckled at the exit and rose from the bed once he'd left to begin preparing for the trip back to the palace. She had managed to concoct a reason for bringing Lord Huntington along with them for the coronation and was only waiting for Sir Alfred to arrive to tell him herself.

He did, about half an hour later, standing on the other side of the room as she arranged her hair in an acceptable fashion for a princess who was about to become a Queen.

"We should honor him at the coronation, don't you think?" She was telling him now. "After all, there wouldn't be one without him. He saved my life."

"Yes," Alfred acknowledged, narrowing his eyes in scrutiny of her even as he agreed. She fought to maintain her composure. She'd always felt as though Sir Alfred Hughes could read her mind, particularly in these moments in which she wasn't telling him the entire truth of the matter. "I suppose we should."

Briar smiled and turned to him, hair finished.

"Done," she said happily and he opened the door for her. She strode toward it, ready to leave with him for the caravan waiting for them below, but he stopped her in the threshold.

"I trust you," Sir Alfred told her, voice low so that it would not carry, "but I hope you know what you're doing."

Then he passed her, heading out into the hall and toward the caravan himself. After a moment, she followed. So she hadn't hidden her intentions well enough. Though she was disappointed, she wasn't surprised. It was difficult to hide anything from Sir Alfred, especially for her whom he knew so well.

Sterling was waiting outside the door to the estate. She watched Sir Alfred nod at him in greeting as he passed on his way to the waiting carriage and the three dozen men who guarded it. Briar came to a stop on the steps beside Lord Huntington.

"You're coming with us," she told him, "but he knows."

Then she walked on to join the old advisor, leaving Sterling to process that information himself. She joined Sir Alfred in the carriage while Sterling mounted his horse and joined the column of men defending them. Then they were off.

She felt uneasy along the ride, the jostling of the carriage reminding her of her brief time spent being transported in a wagon and the violence that had followed. She'd never quite gotten over the look in that boy's eyes when her dagger had slashed his throat. She doubted she ever would. And now the jostle of the carriage was making her sick with memories.

"Are you unwell?" Sir Alfred asked after some time of riding. She only shook her head and turned her attention to the windows, gulping in the fresh air in an effort to cure her nausea. He frowned. "I can't possibly know what you've seen since I sent you away. I've asked myself every day whether or not I made the right choice. Perhaps I didn't. In my fear for your safety, I put you in danger and for that, I am deeply sorry."

She finally looked at him then. In all this time away, she hadn't once considered what their separation had done to him. She had left everything she had ever known, everyone she had ever loved, just to be immediately assaulted in the woods and forced to flee into the safety of servitude. But Alfred had suffered as well. Worrying every day about where she was and how she was being treated, if she were safe and if she could be happy again. She reached out now and touched his arm, offering a slight smile and hoping the simple act could convey more than she felt her words were capable of doing.

After a moment, he smiled back, patting her hand on his arm with his own and turning his own attention out of the window at the passing woods.

"Has he been a gentleman?" He asked, voice low.

Briar cocked her head to the side when she inquired, "Who?"

"Lord Huntington. He's besotted with you, that's clear to any man capable of sight but has he... touched you in any way?"

She couldn't help it. A giggle from somewhere low in her belly burst forth from her lips and her hands flew to her mouth as if they could block it. Sir Alfred's head snapped to look at her, deep frown lines in his cheeks as he furrowed a brow in confusion at her unexpected hilarity.

"I'm sorry," she managed once she regained control of herself. "It's just that... well, Alfred, you know I'm not a child, yes?"

His cheeks blushed crimson and he turned back to the window as if, by avoiding looking at her, he could avoid the conversation altogether. Curious then, that he had started it himself. She supposed he felt some sort of responsibility to enlighten her about the activities which would commence between a man and a woman seeing as she had no parents, and now no other family, of her own.

"He hasn't touched me," she told him and she wasn't lying. But he hadn't asked whether or not she had touched him. They never did.

She watched Sir Alfred visibly relax before she dared ask her next question.

"Do you approve of him?" She wondered aloud out of mere curiosity. He kept his focus on the passing trees.

"I don't know enough of him to say one way or another," he answered.

"You know more of the gentry than anyone in the country, Alfred. If you don't know him, who does?"

She raised a brow. He turned to look at her then, studying her face as if it was the last time he would see it again. Then he reached forward and took her hands in his, leaning so that she could see the intensity in his gaze.

"I know of his holdings. I know how he treats his servants, how he rules his land, and how he bows to the King. All traits of importance to have knowledge of in an ally or an adversary but, as far as what sort of husband he might make, I fear I'm woefully short on information," he told her and she chuckled at his phrasing. "But, and I mean this sincerely, you have always had judgement to rival your uncle's and if you love this man, then I don't see any reason to doubt him."

He gave her hands a squeeze and she smiled. When he moved away from her, to settle back in for the long ride to the palace, she felt lighter than air. She felt that if her heart soared one more time, this entire carriage would lift off of the ground. She felt that it would not surprise her one bit if she glanced back out that window and saw nothing but clouds and sky stretching for miles ahead of her. So this was love.

The rest of the trip passed by in focused conversation with Sir Alfred. She told him the truth of what her time away had been like and what she had managed to learn about the rebel forces upon her kidnapping. He told her what it had been like ruling a kingdom in turmoil, about their allies reaching out to offer them aid and the rebels writing to him to state their demands. She could see that the stress had weighed upon him in every line of his tired face. By the time they neared the gates of the capital city, she felt prepared at least informationally to meet the challenges that awaited her. But they never reached the gates themselves.

Someone was riding toward them, waving their arms frantically. Briar saw the rider through the window of the carriage just as Sir Alfred ordered the column to stop and they did, coming to a halt as the lone rider drew near. When he was close enough to see, Briar could hardly believe her own eyes.

"Theodore?" she asked, stunned, opening the door and stepping outside.

Sterling's horse moved forward in the line, coming to a stop just behind her and Sir Alfred who were now out of the carriage and approaching the arriving Theodore. She glanced back at him but his clear surprise was a match for her own and she knew then that he hadn't known of his brother's whereabouts either.

"Stop!" Theordore was shouting as he reached them. "Stop here. You can't go into the city. It's a trap."

They all stared at him in surprise.

"A trap?" Briar asked.

"Why are you here, Theo?" Sterling inquired at the same time. Theodore looked at his brother and raised a brow, indicating that he was in the city for the same reason he traveled anywhere. Sterling shook his head in disbelief. "Of course."

"You said something about a trap, boy?" Sir Alfred interrupted, ever the voice of reason.

"Yes," Theodore nodded, catching his breath from the hard riding. "The Balienese are here."

"The Baliense?" Briar asked. "Are you sure?"

"Quite. They're waiting at the palace with the rebels. They know you're coming. They've hatched this plan to amend their offer with you from marrying just anyone to marrying the Prince. They've allied themselves together. The people are supporting them out of fear and because... well, you aren't there."

"How do you know this?"

"The woman I came to the capital to... er, visit. Her husband is a rebel, proud of it too, and he likes to get drunk and shout about all their secret plans conveniently enough."

"So let me get this straight," Sterling snapped, barely restrained rage clear in his tone. "Days after getting kidnapped and bartered by a group of violent rebels, you go traipsing off to one of their homes?"

"I-"

"How do they intend to enforce this plan?" Sir Alfred asked, again drawing the attention back to the matter at hand.

"When she shows up unmarried," Theodore started, nodding his head at Briar in explanation,  "they intend to make a big spectacle on the steps of the palace claiming that she mustn't care about her people if she couldn't fulfill a simple offer of negotiation by marrying one of them. So therefore, the Prince will be a hero and marry her himself, bringing the country Balienese wealth and protection and appeasing the rebels and all that other propaganda. It's a good plan, in truth, even coming from the drunken mouth of a fool."

Sir Alfred turned to Briar at the culmination of Theodore's tale. They shared a knowing glance, one of those looks they'd been giving one another since she was a child in which they could communicate fully without actually speaking the words aloud.

"Lord Huntington," Sir Alfred said suddenly and Briar closed her eyes, seemingly to have lost whatever wordless argument they'd been having between themselves.

Sterling dismounted his horse and came up beside them, dutiful as always.

"This plan relies wholly on the fact that they are expecting the princess to arrive unmarried," Sir Alfred spoke slowly. 'But perhaps she won't."

Sterling understood in an instant, lips parting slightly as he looked from Sir Alfred, who was now backing away slowly to leave them to discuss. But Sterling didn't need to discuss. In one smooth motion, he took her hand and lowered himself into a kneeling position at her side.

"Well, this wasn't exactly how I'd hoped to do this," Sterling began, smiling up at the princess who couldn't help but laugh even as the tears sprang forth. "But Briar Aldrich, would you do me the honor of being my wife?"

She couldn't have stopped herself from nodding even if she'd tried.

"There's a church nearby," Sir Alfred told them, tone serious. "I'll go bear witness. Theodore, you come as well. The rest of the men will ensure we aren't interrupted until the vows are made."

It wasn't the wedding any little girl dreamt of. It wasn't the grand royal ceremony and parade she'd expected given her royal birth. But it was perfect. Just a small chapel on the outskirts of the city, an old priest with kind eyes, and Sterling pledging himself to her. The way he kissed her when the priest pronounced them man and wife wiped away every doubt she'd ever had that he was doing this purely for his duty.

And when he lifted her off her feet to carry her back down the aisle and to her waiting carriage, as if he'd simply forgotten about everyone around them, watching, she fell in love with him just a little bit more. He helped her into the carriage and then knelt again on the grass beside her.

"I've pledged myself to you as a husband to a wife," he spoke and she could hear the emotion in his voice as he made this entirely new vow. "Now, allow me to pledge myself to you as a man to his Queen."

"Rise, husband," she said, reaching out and placing her hand against his cheek in gentle caress, "for you are a King."

The word seemed to shatter his illusion for just a moment. She recognized the expression. She'd seen it reflected in her own hundreds of times. The crushing weight of responsibility settling onto your shoulders for the first time. The realization that an entire kingdom depends on you, waits for you. The understanding that you'll never again be just a man.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, leaning forward as he rose. "I thought you understood the implications-"

"I did," he assured her. "But it's one thing to know it and another to hear it."

She nodded in understanding and waited as the rest of the party got back onto their horses. Then they were riding forth into the capital.