THREE wooden busts, draped in the most exquisite gowns and masks surround her room. She picked up a mask and held it to her face. The stab of pain at the sight of her burnt hand in the mirror reminded her that she had gone through these preparations once before.

This night wouldn't end the way the last one had, that much she knew. There were no threats to the kingdom, and Leif was dead. If he made an appearance at the ball, there would be many court ladies needing to be peeled off the floor. She had half a mind to resurrect him, just to see it.

It had been difficult to let him go; he'd been such a large part of her life, and she felt incomplete without him. But she'd decided it was time to let him go; she wasn't going to hide that half of herself anymore. She'd been returned to Aradanas severely injured, as Leif, to avoid the kingdom fretting over her. Stories had spread around the kingdom that Prince Leif of Leressea had died in battle, and the Princess had sequestered herself in grief for her lover.

She'd shocked the court when she emerged, scarred and no longer worthy of being adored for her beauty. But her scars were easy enough to hide under fabric and new stories travelled the lands. The Princess of Aradanas had been the one to defeat the Nagori, and bore the mark of its corrupt touch.

She was painted a hero, devoted to the land she was born to bleed for. It hadn't been difficult, then, for her to challenge the notion that her husband would rule. No one was willing to stand against the Princess who survived the Nagori.

The change trickled down to the announcement of the ball, now open to any noble-born man between nineteen to thirty-five years. If her husband would not be ruling the kingdom, he needn't be prince or lord. Leyva certainly appreciated not having to choose from the previous year's pool, some of whom surpassed her father's years.

This time, Leyva would smile, dance, and enjoy herself, and at the end of it she would choose her betrothed. It was tradition after all. None of the suitors mattered much to her, though. The one man she wanted—the one she loved in her dreams—would not be there.

Taking a shaky breath, she put aside the image of his face and turned to greet her Lady as the door opened.

"Forgive me the intrusion, Princess."

The mask in Leyva's hand dropped to the floor and shattered; a shame really, as it had been her favourite.

"Fee!" Leyva clutched her friend tearfully.

"Leyva! I've missed you."

"Not as much as I've missed you, Fee."

"Not possible." Freesia shook her head, a happy tear or two slipping onto her face.

"Remember, you have a husband to occupy yourself with now. And... a little Tave soon!" Leyva gasped seeing Freesia's round midsection. "Fee, why didn't you tell me in your last correspondence?"

Freesia laughed and directed Leyva to the mirrors, "I wanted to surprise you with it. Now, my Princess, let's get you ready!"

Black flowers everywhere was the first thing Leyva noticed on entering the hall. The next was the abundance of black arms—painted or gloved—on the women around the room. How nice to know the scar she'd bear for the rest of her life was fashionable.

"I don't much like your hair like this."

"Hmm?" She dragged her eyes from the masks in the crowd and back to the man she danced with who tugged at a lock of her dark hair. Around the hall, women wore a similar look, hair darkened by powders or polishes—a look she popularized in the lead up to the ball so she could blend with the others.

Killi's eyes shone as he teased, "Princess, do try and keep up! We've almost made two full rounds of the dance floor. My time with you is up."

"Sorry, Killi. My mind is—"

"I know." His smile was gentle and sympathetic, and she knew when she announced her choice, she would be in good hands. Killi bowed to her, his normal mischief back on his face. "Try not to step on the next man's feet."

She laughed as the music changed and he stepped away to allow another man to dance with her. She watched him leave—she could be happy with a life of laughter and teasing, she knew. When she'd turned back to her new dance partner, she'd missed him bowing to her and was now face to face with a chest wearing Loricai armour.

Heart beating like the hooves of a horse against her rib cage, she bit her lip and looked up. Those eyes! The bright brown eyes that she looked for everyday since she'd woken up in Aradanas after her last memory being of dying in Loricai. Tears obscured what she could see of the face she dreamt of nightly.

"Lei. You could change your appearance over and over and I'd still know it was you." He caressed her hair with a feather-light touch.

Leyva's heart clenched, and she held his arms as her knees threatened to betray her shock. "You're here!" In what felt like another world, they would have been dancing around the room, but where she was, her feet had rooted to the ground in front of Kyden. "You're here?"

She watched his throat bob as he swallowed, emotion cracking his voice as he said, "I tried, Princess. I really tried to stay away like you asked, but..."

She shook her head; her request had been stupidity, or maybe clarity. On waking, she hadn't allowed her father or Lady Freesia to send for him. He had a kingdom to rule and repair after the Nagori's touch had tainted it. He hadn't needed the distraction of a young Aradane Princess, and she hadn't needed to lose sight of her hard-fought battle to prove herself worthy of the crown. It had broken her heart to write the words, but she had, and told him not to come—ever.

He had proved to be exactly the man she knew him to be, and hadn't asked her to give up what she'd worked hard her whole life for. But there he stood, a real man holding her. Her reveries always started this way...

"But?"

"I know the invitation didn't come from you, Leyva." He traced her jaw with his thumb, sending shivers running down her back and arms. "I considered not coming, but, the thought of you being wed to someone else... You have my heart, Lei. We can try—it won't be easy—but, we can find ways. We can share our time between..." He stopped himself, removing his hand from her.

He was going to step back, she could read it in his posture, in the way resolve wrote itself on his face after that awful bit of doubt she'd seen in his grimace. "They're all foolish solutions. I can't ask you to leave your kingdom. Sorry, Lei. I should have listened to you. I've only made this harder for you, haven't I? You don't need me as a distraction tonight. I thought we could make us—"

The choked off word as he stepped back was a sharp pain in her chest. Her Kyden, willing to give up his own heart, bow to her wants, and let her take the lead, did so to allow her dreams to flourish. Wasn't that what she'd wanted? That kind of love?

His touch had barely left her and she felt like a flag that had lost its tether. Her arm shot out to catch him, needing him to ground her, lest she float away from him again. She could not allow herself to let him go. Cupping his cheek, she smiled faintly, "You already distract me every minute of everyday, Ky!"

She grabbed the collar of his one shouldered breastplate, and pulled him forward, crashing her mouth to his. He was surprised, but recovered quickly, one hand cradling her head, and one splayed on her lower back, crushing her flat against him. When his mouth opened to hers, the taste of warm honey wine and spiced cakes wrapped her in a feeling of home. This was right. Stomach tumbling, Leyva whispered his name like it was a wish to Mother Feyrie herself and tangled her fingers into his hair, loosening it from its tie. Flames! Why was he wearing armour?

Scandalized gasps swept through the crowd as people realised there was a couple embracing in the middle of the dance floor. It was a trace irksome that their noise was interrupting the moment she'd fantasized for months. She weighed her options as she chastened the kiss. Leave with him and deal with her duties in the morning, or...

Pushing Kyden back gently, Leyva flushed at the shocked looks and, lifting the trailing hems of her pink dress, made her way to the King and Queen on the dais. One wore a look of mild amusement, the other was appalled. Her deep bow to her father was echoed by Kyden behind her.

Leyva took off her mask to a new round of gasps. "I, Leyva Saren Katis of Aradanas choose King Kyden Tejas Tarajand of Loricus as my betrothed."

There was loud, boisterous music, shouting, singing and crying as well, but Leyva could only stare at the man she'd just promised herself to. She didn't have words for the way he was looking at her. It was better than any look she'd ever have been able to imagine on his face; heat and ecstasy and adoration, and it set her insides aflame.   

He pressed his forehead to hers, and she closed her eyes and breathed him in, as he whispered, "I suppose we'll have to figure out how to make this work now."

Leyva laughed as she kissed him again, thinking however they managed—splitting time between kingdoms, living separately for small amounts of time, writing to each other everyday—the struggles would be worth it, for the feeling of infinite love and support that bloomed in her heart. 

"We can do it, as we have from the beginning—you and I, together, my Love."

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