For me, the easiest way to focus was to go outside. For that reason, the garden was my favorite place to think. There were no walls to surround me, only nature that was starting to slowly wake up.

It was late afternoon, still a bit chilly, but the signs of spring coming back were everywhere. Snowdrops were peeking out in the lawn that became greener with each passing day, and hazel trees were already decorated by countless yellow catkins.

I took a path leading further into the garden, towards the orchard. A bench under the cherry tree was so inviting that I simply had to sit down. This is a good place to think, I thought to myself as I leaned my back against the backrest. I closed my eyes and let the setting sun to spill its warmth over me. I intertwined my fingers behind my head and laughed. It was still an unusual feeling to have them intertwined. It was something I wasn't able to do just a couple of years earlier.

Felling completely relaxed and peaceful, my thoughts began to flow.

"If what Opal said is true, then it's more than a story," I was mumbling to myself, hoping that vocalizing my thoughts would help. "The Princess was real. But stories get distorted over time. Then again, that doesn't mean that the Princess didn't exist."

"Hm...hm..." someone was trying to get my attention. "Talking to yourself is the first sign of madness."

The voice was coming from above. I tilted my head, and there, high up in the treetop, I saw Mathias comfortably sitting on a branch while his back was leaned against the tree trunk.

"What are you doing up there?" I asked in a surprised voice. "Stalking me?"

"Sitting," he answered completely calm. "And no, I'm not stalking you. I was here way before you showed up. If anyone is a stalker, then it's you."

"I am not!" I protested. "I didn't come here to stalk you."

"No? Why did you come? To have a conversation with your invisible friend?" I could hear the jest in his voice.

"No, I did not come to have a conversation with my invisible friend!" I crossed my arms over my chest and gave him an annoyed look, although I doubted he saw it from where he was sitting. "I came here to think," I said.

"What do you need to think about?" he asked. That guy was way too nosey sometimes. Nevertheless, I saw an opportunity to give him a taste of his own medicine, so I answered him anyway.

"Well, right now I'm thinking: What the hell are you doing up there, in the tree? The cherry hasn't even blossomed yet, let alone produced any fruits! And now I'm thinking: Do werewolves even eat fruit or is their diet based entirely on meat? Which leads me to another question I need to think about: Do werewolves eat their meat cooked or do they prefer it raw?"

"Okay, okay, stop!" he interrupted me. "Sorry I asked!"

I bowed my head down so he wouldn't be able to see the smile on my face.

"Who's the Princess?" he changed the subject.

I looked up and saw that he shifted his position on the branch so that his legs were dangling and he was able to look at me.

It took a moment before I realized what he was talking about. "My legend," I answered. "I wrote about her in Professor Cyan's homework."

Looking up was causing me neck pain, so I lay down on the bench and I placed my arm under my head as a cushion. That way, I was able to look at Mathias directly.

"I made her cry," the words just spilled out. "She denied it, but every time I mentioned my story, her eyes filled with tears. I don't know why. Opal convinced me that the Princess was real. Ardea, on the other hand, thinks that legends cannot be trusted completely. As a result, I'm confused. No other legend made Professor Cyan cry, not even the ones written by the daemons and I thought they were very moving. Could it be that my story drove her to tears? She couldn't have heard it before, I'm the first Aquantien in the school."

"And maybe her mood had nothing to do with your story," he replied.

"Yes, that's what Ardea said. Still, I'd like to find a grain of truth in that story. You know what I mean?"

"Not really," Mathias said. His legs were swinging slowly, up in the treetop, as if he never felt more comfortable. "I have no clue what kind of stories are circling among the representatives of your people. Like I told you earlier, there's a lack of understanding between aquatic races and werewolves."

"Well, according to the story, there was a Princess who simply vanished. No one knows where she went or what happened to her, but if what the Storyteller said was true, then maybe she really did go to live on land."

"Just like you," Mathias added.

"Not quite. The rumor has it that she was kidnapped."

"Who kidnapped her? Pirates?" he asked. "Then it just might be the story I'd like to hear."

"No, not pirates." I laughed at the very thought.

"Well, maybe you should have written that the pirates did it."

''Maybe pirates would make Professor Cyan more cheerful," I added.

"Maybe," he said. "And maybe you should really stop thinking that your story had that much influence on her mood."

"She was fine when the class started. She wasn't laughing or anything, but you know that she never laughs. She wasn't sad either, but then I read my story and tears filled her eyes."

"I think you're being paranoid," he said and leaned his back against the tree trunk again.

I didn't respond. Lying on the bench, I was staring blankly into the bare treetop. Mathias was nothing but a shadow to my eyes. I ran my fingers through my hair, frustrated by the fact that no one was willing to give me the benefit of the doubt. Minutes were passing in silence, and in my mind, one question burnt like an ember – Why was she crying?

Failing to silence my thoughts, I focused on Mathias. He was looking somewhere in the distance. "Say something," I said.

"I have nothing else to say," he replied without looking at me. He sighed.

"Tough day, huh? You told me when I ran into you that you had to take an extra dose of the potion today. You remember, it was right after Professor Cyan's class. You were leaving her classroom and I..." I stopped talking as my train of thoughts took a different turn.

I stared at him while he sat on the branch without moving a muscle. His eyes were absorbing the last sunrays of the day, reflecting the light in an unhuman way.

"Why did you need an extra dose of potion today?" I asked. "You didn't know I was gonna come to Professor Cyan's classroom. You couldn't have known."

He didn't respond.

"Wait a minute!" I swiftly sat up straight. "You need stronger formula this year! That means that you needed some sort of potion even before I was here. You need it to help you cope with the Aquantien smell which is unbearable to you. And today you needed an extra dose. Today of all days, when you had a Literature class with the Professor who cried after she heard my story of the Princess. That's it!"

I tilted my head to look at him again. He wasn't moving. He sat on the branch as if he were frozen in time. Looking directly into his eyes, I set the words free, "Is she an Aquantien?"

I got no response from him. After listing all the reasons that led to my assumption, I was expecting something, even a sneer would do. Instead, he gave me silence.

"Well, is she?" I asked impatiently. "Don't just sit there like a gargoyle. Say something!"

He grabbed a branch and jumped on the ground. He remained standing by the cherry tree, far enough from the bench I was sitting on, but close enough for me to see the tendons on his arms flexing when he clenched his fists.

"Stop with the nonsenses." His voice was quiet, but icy-cold.

"If it's true, you would know. You'd sniff her out."

"I'm not a dog!" His stare had paralyzing effect.

My heart was beating faster and faster, forcing me to take a few deep breaths. I went too far. I knew it wasn't wise to anger the werewolf, yet I chose completely wrong words. Therefore, I said, "I know, I'm sorry. I'm just trying to give some sense to this whole thing."

"Well, leave me out of it."

I nodded. The breeze swayed bare branches of the cherry tree, attracting my eyes. Was it possible to envy the trees? It never had any worries. It just listened to the signals of the nature and reached up towards the sun.

"How amazing would it be if she really were an Aquantien," I said.

"Don't speak of this to others." Mathias' stern voice made me turn my attention back to him. "I mean it."

"Why? Is it true after all?" The spark of hope was ignited once again.

"I didn't say that." Those dark eyes of his that seemed as if they were absorbing the light sent shivers down my spine. "Promise me that you won't speak of this."

"I won't speak of this," I uttered, feeling the heartbeats in my temples.

"Promise me!" he ordered in a tone of voice that was hard to ignore. "Promise me, Azora!"

"I promise," I said. I made sure I didn't look at him when I spoke those words because I already knew that I would not be able to keep that promise.

To all my readers, thank you! 

Thank you for reading my story, for leaving your comments and giving it your votes. It is the fuel that keeps me going. 

Keep doing it because I really appreciate it. 
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