"Even the most ruined hearts crave for love."
— Melisa Nadir, Chantress of the Maiden

~•~

There has not been one summer since the past decade, which had kept the Crown Prince Remus away from the halls of Domhnall. 

Their very unconventional friendship began when Maysa was a child of twelve, and he was a young man of eighteen. Maysa's father had hosted a symposium, and an invitation was extended to the greatest lover of philosophy ever born in Namiona — Remus Desher. The prince, however, had not expected Maysa, already a skilled debater, to be a part of the same symposium. The clarity of her thoughts, her speech which was so profound despite the childish sweetness clear in her tone, mesmerised him. He knew had to speak with this bright beacon. 

And the hands that entwined that day had not parted till date. 

Thinking about it made Maysa smile, despite the news Airon had delivered only moments ago. It was a memory she held dear, one of the fondest ones from her youth. If the past were to really leave her, then this would be the only thing she would ask it to give to her as a parting gift. Nothing could ever be more precious than first meetings, especially ones that lead us to our dear friends.

With a new lightness in her steps, she completed the rest of her walk to his chamber and pushed open the door. The smell of lavender smoke greeted her nostrils as the draft closed room released itself. The smell was a little cloying, but not wholly unpleasant. Her smile grew wider. Old habits die hard. Remus’s love for lavender was as intrinsic to him as his love for philosophy. If she were to long for him in his absence, Maysa would only have to burn a sprig of lavender to feel his presence. 

She walked over to the sturdy wooden table where the prince remained sprawled. His long silver locks were in a disarray, a halo of light around the head of a benevolent deity. The lines of his chiselled face softened in the clutches of repose, while a half-smile graced his rosy lips. They were like a rosebud, feminine in the eyes of many, yet its allure was undeniable. Ask any maiden, and they would have said the same thing with flushed cheeks and a giggle! That was if they did not run away the very moment the question was asked. 

My sweet Remus. Maysa ran her fingers over his face. It was a face she knew well; that wide forehead, the long eyelashes that touched his cheeks, the indent at the bridge of his nose, the high cheekbones, and those cheeks which had kept an infantile softness. They were not plump per se but had a smooth velvet texture to it that felt good to touch. A warmth spread through her being. She caressed his cheeks with the tips of her long fingers. Her smile took a languid grace. 

"Remus."

Maysa's voice was soft, a lullaby from the realm of dreams. She continued her ministrations upon his cheeks as he stirred a little, the corners of his eyes crinkling. In a swift motion, he grabbed hold of her wrist with his calloused palm. 

"My sweet," he mumbled in his sleep, pressing his lips against her palm in a sloppy kiss. 

Her heart swelled at hearing the term of endearment that Remus reserved only for her. "Wake up, Remus." She called. 

"Is it too late?" He asked, his voice muffled against her skin. 

"It is not late, but we need to talk now."

Remus groaned in sleep before sitting up. Again, he had fallen asleep while staying up late to attend to his duties. The man knew not what sleep was. It would have worn out a lesser being, taking them to an early grave. Still holding her close, he straightened the pleats in his tunic with his free hand. Then he looked at her and beamed. His eyes, those intense wide-set pools of indigo, met hers, and for a moment Maysa could swear her heart stilled. Those eyes carried the ache of a thousand worlds. 

"Good morrow, my sweet. Why don't you sit?" He greeted, patting an empty seat beside him. Maysa nodded and pulled out the stool to settle close to him. Their hands remained intertwined. 

The chamber faced the roaring Black Sea, which covered Namiona on three sides. It was like his own bedchamber back in the capital which overlooked the sea. The gurgle of the sea as it crashed against the shore was a pleasant symphony to start a day with. Tapestries of silver and carmine, the colours of his house, with a dragon in flight with its claws reared, adorned the walls. Books and scrolls were kept in neat heaps at various corners of the room. 

"What were you doing so late? she asked. "I tell you, Remus, you would grow shadows underneath your eyes. Then the fair maidens of this realm would come after me, accusing me of tarnishing their charming prince's handsome appearance." She smirked, eyes glinting with mischief. 

He chuckled, a deep, sonorous rumble. "Pray, why would they accuse you?"

"Because I have been keeping you with me for quite some time, something that they can only dream of." Maysa rolled her eyes. "Jests aside, what were you really doing?"

"What my father should do." He sighed. 

Maysa exhaled, shaking her head. It had become a routine at this point — the King leaving all his duties to his son and spending his days in the darkness of his chamber, visualising elaborate assassination attempts on his Imperial Highness’s life. He indulged in the spirits too much, further blurring his senses. His mind has not been what it once was. 

She put a hand on Remus's shoulder. "You do not have to bear it alone, my friend. I can always help you out." 

"You always do, don't you? I believe I burden you enough with my worries." He tried to smile, but it faltered midway. "I fear I am taking advantage of your kindness."

Maysa shook her head. "You are not taking advantage. If we are friends, Remus, must we not share our tears just as we revel in our shared joys? Why must you deprive me of this privilege?"

"Some burdens are meant to be borne alone." he gazed at her with those tearful eyes. "You know that well, do you not, my sweet?"

He always knows just what to say. Maysa looked down at their entwined hands. He was much fairer than the olive-skinned Maysa, so much so that his skin seemed to be aglow with a tranquil light. Just like the full moon on a clear night. They were contrasts: he was an ethereal being with his silver locks and indigo eyes, standing lean and tall while she was the golden child of Domhnall’s sands, dark eyes, and dark hair with a lesser stature. 

"What is it you wanted to say?" He asked after a while.

"Oh, yes." Maysa straightened in her seat, grateful for the distraction. "There is something I learnt a moment ago that I think you need to know. That is why I roused you so early."

"What is it, Maysa?"

"Lady Lysa Trellis is missing." 

Remus frowned before his countenance became impassive. His lower lip jutted out. It was difficult for Maysa to comprehend what he was thinking. Maybe the same things she had wondered about when Airon informed her? 

"Lord Edmund Eni, her betrothed," Maysa continued. "believes that you have abducted her, Remus."

A dry chuckle escaped his lips. "And why would I do that? Besides, even if we are to entertain this notion, then where have I kept her hidden? Within these books?" He pointed to a hefty stack perched on the table at the opposite end. 

"You know what these lords are like," Maysa shrugged. "Give them a chance and they would place blame everywhere but on themselves."

"Yet these lords hold substantial power in our realm. Their whimsies can cost us a lot." He put a hand beneath his chin. "Given how House Eni has been rather hostile to the Crown for the past few years, this does not bode well for me."

"I agree with your sentiment. We cannot ignore accusations made by such a powerful house," Maysa replied. "Yet so far, these are mere rumours and gossip spread by merchants and traders. Edmund Eni is yet to make this a public claim."

"Pray that this is a rumour. We do not need any further spectacle to couple with father's growing madness."  He gave out a shuddering breath. 

The two fell into a comfortable silence yet again. Remus retreated into the realm of his thoughts, a dark, brooding presence. Maysa traced circles on his palm. It was the least she could do to let her mind not wander to places it should not. Gods knew what she would do if she were to receive this news in Remus's absence. 

"Do you think, Maysa, that I could have abducted Lady Lysa? He asked. 

"Huh?"

Remus smiled. "Do you think that I have abducted Lysa Trellis?"

"Never." Maysa scoffed. "The sun would cease to rise in the east, the day you look up from those philosophy treatises and set your eyes upon a maiden."

"Well, I look at you."

Maysa’s cheeks flushed. "I am hardly what you would call a maiden, Remus. Besides, we are friends."

"Still, it accounts for something, does it not?" Remus laughed. "I cannot thank you enough for your faith in me, my sweet. It gladdens me."

"Do not act like a fool," Maysa pouted. "There is no need to be thankful to me. When shall you cease to be so formal? I am not one of those ladies in the court."

"Oh, I am not at all formal with you." He leaned closer, his breath fanning her face. He kissed the tip of her upturned nose. "I, for once, do not kiss the noses of the said ladies of the court."

Maysa giggled. "You are incorrigible."

His eyes flashed with merriment. "If you say so, my sweet."

They erupted into shared laughter; the jolly sounds mingling with the aureate sunlight. In that moment, nothing mattered save for the present. Nothing other than the moments they shared. 

Even if a storm came, they would face it together. Always. 

~•~