King Owen and queen Alice were elated about the return of their son. He was bathed, dressed, and fed. They sat together at the dining table after lunch.

"I thought I'll never see you again," the queen wiped her happy tears with a handkerchief.

"You're safe now, we have him locked up, he will be executed soon," the king said.

"Father, you're not listening, he saved me. Please, set him free, it won't happen again."

Queen Alice squeezed him into a tight embrace. "My poor child, he won't hurt you again, you're home now."

"He never hurt me once, please, he helped."

"It's okay, you need rest," she took Asher's hand and got up.

"My Lord, we'll leave first," the queen bowed.

"Of course," he said, then turned to Asher. "Rest well, son." 

Asher sneaked into the dungeon at night to see Tristan.

"Hey," he tiptoed on the damp stairs in his nightwear, the dark place lighted by a few torches.

Tristan turned, his hands locked in chains. "Hey, prince, what are you doing here?"

He hunkered. "Asher, not prince."

"Okay, Asher..."

"I have a plan, but I need to contact someone you trust, maybe your parents, siblings, or a friend?"

"My Dad, you can reach out to him."

"Okay, is he in the gang too?"

"Yes, he's the boss."

"Good, all I need now is your address."

Tristan paused like he was contemplating his decision.

"I promise not to hurt them, I'm trying to free you," Asher reassured.

"Okay, Asher, I trust you."

Asher smiled. "Thank you."
…

The prince sent his pet bird to deliver the letter. Asher met someone outside the castle walls— a huge man with curly black hair.

"A-Are you Darius, Tristan's Dad?" Asher swallowed hard.

The man bent his head, the scar on his right eye made him even more intimidating. "Yes, I am." a bass voice said.

"Don't let Tristan die, I know you're mad at him but you have to forgive him. I-I'll give you the ransom money. Please, save him." Asher begged.

"I just want my son back," he said.

"Oh... you're not taking the money?"

"If you insist," the man snatched the bag from the prince.

He stuffed it into the inner pocket of his black robe. "Why are you helping, do you like him?"

"Platonically, yeah. I don't think anyone will romantically like Tristan, he can be annoying sometimes," Asher sighed.

"That's a cruel thing to say in front of a parent!" he frowned.

"Oh, sorry."
…

On the day of the execution, their plan was finalised. The town gathered around to witness everything. Tristan's hands were tied with a thick rope and his head covered with a brown sac, he was to be beheaded.

He climbed the wooden platform, he took three steps just like Asher told him to. The wood creaked opened and he fell into an underground tunnel that led to the front of the forest.

Tristan’s father took off the ropes and sac. "Haha! It worked," he hugged his son.

"Dad, my arms," Tristan whispered.

"Oh, sorry," Darius chuckled.

Tristan raised his head to Betty and Ethan. "They came?"

"Yeah, they helped with the tunnel.

"Thanks," he said and they nodded.

Tristan's eyes darted to Asher, who had been standing there.

His eyes brightened, he rushed to the prince but stopped as he remembered their socio-economic classes shouldn't be in close contact.

Asher smiled and hugged him. "It’s good to see you in one piece, I missed you."

Tristan's eyes widened, he slowly hugged him back. "Yeah, me too."

Asher moved back, he inspected his hands and face. "Are you alright?"

"Yes," Tristan said, then turned to his Dad.

"Privacy! Privacy!" Darius moved the rescue team into the forest.

"So, this is goodbye," Asher muttered, his head lowered.

"Maybe, maybe not," Tristan held his hands, gazing into his emerald eyes.

Asher squeezed his hands with a small smile, holding on tighter.
Don't go.

"Tristan!" Ethan said.

Tristan flinched then darted to him. "The guards," he said.

Tristan looked at Asher. "I must leave, bye," he glanced at him for the last time and gently released his hands then jogged to meet his family.

Asher's smile faded. "Bye."
…

A year later, Asher would often sneak off to the new training field outside the castle walls, he convinced his parents to clear a small part of the trees— that way it'll be easier to meet up.

Asher left the training field to a distant big tree where he usually met Tristan.

He jumped from the tree. "Hello.”

Asher breathed and turned back.
I think I lost her.

Asher gasped as Tristan dodged a knife thrown at him in a millisecond.

He shoved Asher behind him, blocking the slash of her blade with his dagger.

The birds flew in horror at the squeal of Asher. "Save me!" he peeked over his shoulder and whispered in Tristan's ears. "It's her."

He darted to Asher. "Who? The scary princess?"

"Yeah."

The brunette girl arched her brow.
Scary?

She frowned at Tristan. "How do you know my fiance?"

"Fiance?" Tristan turned to him.

"Stop saying that! It's not official," he half-yelled.

She sighed, rolling her golden brown eyes. "Who are you anyway?"

Tristan paused.
What do I say now?

"He's my knight in shining armour, the man of my dreams," Asher batted his eyelashes.

Tristan cringed. "Mhmm... no, I'm not."

"Yes, you are!" Asher said.

"No."

He inhaled. "Are you rejecting me?"

"It's not like that, I-"

As they continued bickering, the princess wondered how strong Tristan was. "Hey, you have good reflexes, let's brawl."

Tristan looked at her. "Thanks, but I'm not interested."

She waited.
What can I use to grab his attention?

The princess smiled. "How about... the winner gets to spend the day with Asher."

Tristan thought.
A day with Asher? I want that.

He raised his head. "Fine by me." Tristan stepped forward and spun his blades.

Asher screamed. "I want to spend my day with you, win!"

Tristan nodded with a smile.
He feels the same.

She took a stance. "Okay, mister lover, show me what you got."