I couldn't think straight as Andrew's arms crushed me, the queen gesturing for Anne, Thomas, and James to leave the room. She followed them out with a worried look our way before she closed the door quietly behind her. I didn't dare move as I clutched my prince to me, all manner of dark and terrible things swirling in my head.

Something had happened. In what little time we'd been apart, something had changed yet again. Thomas had suspected something the moment Andrew had stepped into the room, but I had known it with gut-wrenching certainty when he wouldn't look at me.

"What's happened?" I asked finally. Andrew hesitated before pulling back. Seeing the tears on his face brought a silent scream into my throat.

"He signed the treaty," Andrew said, cupping my cheek with his hand as he memorized my face.

"But you have three witnesses! Thomas said-" I started, resting my own hand on his cheek. His eyes closed at my touch before he shook his head.

"If we'd informed the bishop, our engagement would have been official to the church, requiring consent from the both of us to call it off," Andrew said, "Father got to him first."

My knees very nearly gave way as the weight of that sentence hit me. Andrew caught my elbow, guiding me to the bay window seat. His grandmother's ring slid on my finger as I sat, the sharp edges of the diamonds biting into my other fingers. It meant nothing. All of it had amounted to nothing. His naming me, the proposal, all gone on the whim of a king. An inked signature had wiped away the future I'd only just begun to imagine for myself. But it wasn't that gilded future that I would mourn, it was the man I wanted to have beside me.

"No," was all I said, clinging to Andrew. This couldn't be happening, not now, not after everything that had transpired to get me here. But when my prince kept silent, tears sprang to my eyes. We remained there, in each other's arms as the sun dipped towards the horizon. I held him tight to me, unwilling to let go, until a servant entered, pushing a cart of bell-covered trays. She hurriedly set the plates on one of the many tables scattered about the room, arranging a pair of chairs for us all while studiously avoiding looking out way.

"Her Majesty ordered you dinner," the servant said once all was prepared, bobbing a quick curtsey while still studying her toes.

"Thank you," Andrew said, his voice rumbling through his chest into my ear that was pressed up against it. It was the only sound I wanted to hear for the rest of my life, that voice underscored by the steady beat of his heart.

As the scent of the food hit my nostrils, hunger flared in my belly. Through the haze of desperation, of disbelief and denial, I realized with a pang that if I was going to spend one more evening with him, all I wanted to do was relive it like all those other evenings we'd spent together. I wanted to hear his laugh and see his lopsided smile and crinkled eyes again just one more time before he swore himself to some other woman. I wanted to touch his soul again, if only for just a moment, before it would be off limits forever.

"We should eat," he said, his lips murmuring against my hair. It took us both some effort to detach ourselves, our stiff muscles just as reluctant to rise as we were. Andrew kept my hand in his, unwilling to break that connection as he led me to the table. Once I was seated, his fingers trailed down my arm until he tucked his own chair in, his knee a welcome warmth against my own.

I didn't care what we ate, but a ghost of a smile flitted across Andrew's face as he lifted the bells, setting them aside. Bowls of steaming stew faced us, the rich, spiced scent setting my mouth to watering. A basket of crusty rolls had been provided as well, which Andrew passed to me.

"This was my mother's recipe," he said, ripping apart a roll to expose the soft center within, "She used to make it for us when we were children, whenever we'd had a bad day. Father was mortified, but the cooks never batted an eye whenever she appeared in the kitchen. Apparently it was what her own mother had done for her."

My throat bobbed as I swallowed my tears. Today had revealed a side of the woman I'd been dreading calling my mother-in-law, a warm, caring side that I hadn't realized I'd craved after being so deprived of a doting mother myself. The queen would never treat me as a daughter now, I thought, as I spun her ring around my finger again. I didn't dare consider how my own mother would act upon learning about today's events, shoving that thought away for some other time.

"Let's not be sad tonight," I blurted out as Andrew dunked a piece of bread into the stew. He looked up at me and I knew my request was ridiculous from the way those green eyes sent my heart aflutter until I remembered that they wouldn't be mine, not for much longer.

"If this is the...if I don't get to see you any more, I don't want to spend what we have left in sadness," I explained in a rush, scooping up my spoon so I could tear my eyes away from his and concentrate on eating rather than speaking. His knee nudged mine under the table.

"All right," he said, his eyes softening as he watched me, "Do you like it?"

"It's delicious," I managed, tearing myself some bread.

"I have a feeling I could guess, but what's your favourite food?" Andrew asked, taking another bite.

"You think you could guess?" I chuckled.

"I haven't forgotten that one-woman assault on the Boughton pies, you know," he said, his eyes crinkling as he grinned across the table at me. I couldn't help but smile at him in return, burying that keening, wailing part of my soul that was shredding apart every time it looked at him. I was determined to enjoy our last time together and I'd eventually have to deal with the painful mess of emotions swirling within me, but not right now. Not while my prince was with me, smiling at me.

We talked through dinner as if today was any other day, a silent agreement passing between us that we wouldn't mention tomorrow, wouldn't think about it until it was upon us. Andrew rang for the plates to be cleared when we'd finished, only for the same servant to appear with yet another cart. She exchanged our dinner plates for assorted plates of pie, but instead of rejoice, I felt my stomach lurch as I remembered that magical day we'd spent together.

Tears swam in my eyes despite my best efforts to blink them back. With a murmured word to the servant, Andrew rose and took my hand, drawing me away from the table.

"I'm sorry," I said thickly, blinking and swallowing and shaking my head so I wouldn't let the tears fall.

"It's all right," he said, wrapping me in his arms. Behind us, the plates clinked on the cart as the servant bustled them all away, the pies untouched.

"I don't think I'll ever be able to eat pie again," Andrew said when the silence had settled over us once more, "Not unless it's with you."

I couldn't help the tears that fell now.

"This isn't fair," I breathed, squeezing my eyes closed. His arms remained solid around me as he rested his head on mine.

"I know," was all he said.

We stood there until I regained my composure, Andrew's gentle fingers stroking my hair until my breathing stopped coming in sobbing bursts. Somewhere in the distance, the clocktower chimed nine.

"Would you like to take a walk with me?" Andrew asked. My arms tightened around him, dreading the moment he'd leave me at my suite door.

"No, I want to stay here," I said, forcing my mind away from what was inevitably coming at the end of tonight.

"I'm not letting you go yet," he said, a ghost of a smile on his face, "I just wanted to show you some more of the palace I hadn't gotten around to yet."

"I don't want to see it," I said, the words coming out harsher than I'd meant, "I don't want to see anything else I'd fall in love with because tomorrow I'll be leaving."

"You can't leave," Andrew said, holding me at an arm's length to study my face.

"I'm not staying," I said, meeting his gaze, "I can't."

He sighed, his face crumpling as he squeezed his eyes shut, fighting for control of his emotions just as fiercely as I was.

"Libby..." he started, sighing again as his eyes raked over my face while his mind searched for the words. I waited patiently for him to continue, only for him to draw me towards a love-seat. He took my hands in his, our knees pressed against each other's as he faced me.

"One of us needs to marry someone they love," he said, "I don't have that luxury, but you do."

"I love you," I said vehemently, "So I won't be marrying anyone else."

His eyes filled with emotion before he squeezed them shut, exhaling.

"I know," he said finally, drawing me into his arms once again, "I wanted you, Libby. All along, all I wanted was you. I love you with every piece of my heart and as much as I know it'll tear me in two, you need to find someone who loves you to take care of you so you won't be sold out by your parents again."

"I don't need anyone to take care of me," I said, "I'm going to Xavier tomorrow morning and we'll leave."

"If you leave, your parents will come after you," he said, his eyes running over my face. I realized with a pang that he was memorizing it, that he must be thinking it would be our last time alone too. I studied his in return, the dying fire throwing dancing shadows across it. I couldn't imagine a world without these small, precious moments.

"I have to leave," I managed, my voice breaking, "Because I can't face standing up before the entire court while you choose her."

Andrew pulled me towards him when he saw the tears. He cradled me on his lap, his arms finding their way around me as I lay against his chest, stifling the sobs but unable to stop the tears.

"I don't want to face it either," he said into my hair. I clutched his shirt, memorizing the feel of it between my fingers. His heart was beating fast beneath my head.

"Then I should just leave in the morning," I said finally once my sobs had subsided sufficiently for me to speak, "I don't want to watch your heart break just as you don't want to watch mine shatter."

"You can't give up, Libby," he said gently, tipping my chin up so I would look at him, "If I can't do for us what I wish I could, then I can at least make sure you marry someone who will take care of you. If you stand up there with them, you'll have your pick of anyone in the entire court. You can choose, Libby, instead of being forced upon the first man that will have you. If you run, you'll lose whatever standing being in my top three has granted you."

"I don't want any damned standing because I don't want anyone besides you," I said fiercely. Before he could answer, I pressed my lips to his, the tears streaming once again. How could I love someone so much and be forced to marry someone else? His hand wrapped around the back of my neck as he drew me towards him. We kissed desperately, both of us well aware that this would be the last. Andrew pulled back for air, his hand running a gentle caress along my cheek.

"Say you'll be there tomorrow," he breathed, his green eyes just inches from mine, "I need to know that you'll be all right when I'm gone."

"Gone?" I asked, resting my hand on top of his. He exhaled, forcing his eyes closed.

"After the announcement, father is sending me on a tour of the kingdom until the wedding," he said after a few breaths, "After that, I'm off to Ardalone with my new bride."

I saw his tears through the haze of my own. I'd known this would be our last time alone together, but I'd always pictured him staying at the palace, joining the married lords in their separate social activities. The thought of him leaving his home, his family, to follow that shrew of a princess back to Ardalone set my blood to boiling.

He leaned in to kiss me again, his tears cold against my own. I held his face between my hands, memorizing the shape and feel of it, hating that the pit in my stomach was threatening to swallow me whole. As we kissed and kissed, I could almost forget that tomorrow would bring a bleak dawn to a new future. Eventually, he tucked my head back under his chin, the pair of us entwined in each other's arms.

"You're too good a man for her," I said, running my hand along his cheek. He closed his eyes at my touch, savouring it.

"You're not making this any easier," he said, twisting his head around to plant a kiss on my hand.

"I know, but if I don't say it now I won't ever be able to tell you," I replied as he fastened his green eyes on me again.

"Tomorrow is going to be hell," he said finally, still holding my gaze, "But I would never change you being my first love."

My heart leaped, only to fall into the chasm of despair in my stomach.

"I don't think I'll ever love someone as much as I love you," I said, dropping my gaze to stare at our still intertwined hands. His ring caught my eye and with a pang, I realized that I'd have to give it back to him.

"Promise me that you'll pick someone who makes you happy," he said, interrupting my thoughts when he sat up ever so slightly, bringing our faces closer together.

"I'm not marrying anyone," I said decisively, toying with the ring. He rested a hand on my cheek to pull my eyes back to his.

"One of us needs to be happy," he said, kissing my forehead then mumbling against it, "I need to know you're happy."

"I can't be, not if I don't have you," I whispered back. The pain in his eyes matched the knife in my gut and he kissed me again, slowly, sadly, before pulling my head down to rest on his chest.

I had no more tears to cry, so instead I listened to the slow, steady thump of his heart. I cursed my luck that he had to be born royal and that I had to be such a stubborn little child when I first met him. If I had been demure and polite and acted like a lady like cousin Ella, I would have sailed through the queen's torment and it would have been me that he led up to the throne tomorrow.

Then again, if I'd been anyone other than myself, perhaps we wouldn't have ever fall in love with one another. Maybe it was meant to be this way.

I had no idea how long we stayed like that, Andrew absently stroking my back as I listened to the rise and fall of his breath. He gave me a gentle shake when the sky outside his window had turned a dark grey in the early hours of dawn.

"You should go back," he said softly, his voice reverberating through his chest.

"I wish I didn't have to," I said, giving him a last, tight squeeze. He sighed, hugging me back before sitting both of us up. He stood, offering me a hand to stand, but instead pulling me into his arms to kiss me again, just once, but filled with all the lost passion we'd never get to experience.

"I love you Libby," he breathed into my hair as he held me to him. I felt the prickle of tears again, but my heart had hardened into ice. In a few short hours, he'd be smiling down at Dulciana, pretending she was the one his heart was set on. I wiggled the ring from my finger. I knew he'd insist I keep it, but I didn't want it. The ring belonged to his bride-to-be and that wasn't me any more, no matter what he said.

"And I love you, Andrew," I whispered back, dropping the ring onto the love-seat behind his back.