Victor cursed yet again as he combed the castle for Elene. He hadn’t been able to follow her out of the ballroom because of the mass of people blocking his way, so he had no idea where she had gone.

In fact, he was only on the first floor.

As Victor began to take a flight of stairs, a shadowy silhouette descended, and they both stopped.

The man blocking his path looked down at him, and Victor struggled to stand face to face with him—it wasn’t successful because he stood one step lower.

“Excuse me,” he growled.

The man didn’t move. “Where are you off to, senior Montgomery?”

“None of your business,” Victor snarled. Who was this boy?

He stepped down out of the shadows onto the same step and Victor promptly began ascending.

The man looked up, features tilted upwards with a smirk toying at his face, and Victor stopped, half turned to spot the man’s face.

It was Gregory.

“She will be on the roof,” he said casually. “Best hurry if you wish to catch her.”

With that, he descended the last three steps and disappeared.

Victor paused to consider this, wondering what sort of motive Gregory would have for helping him. He could have been lying.

Hell with that, Victor decided. He had nothing to lose.

--

Kristen reached behind Calvin, leaning into him as she slid the door’s lock home with a resolute click. How had she fallen so hard, so fast for him? But as their lips met in a tender kiss, she knew she could never regret it.

“Four weeks,” he whispered. “Do you think…”

“A lover’s quarrel is a good sign,” Kristen answered, lips tracing his neck. “It means there are intense feelings already.”

He looked unconvinced, and she sighed. “Calvin, you study the words of the world, nothing as trivial as men and women in their daily lives. Emotion is what I was born and raised to read. Trust me.” And do you remember how we were? She asked silently.

“I do, love,” he stifled a shiver as her fingers locked behind his head, as her eyes burned into his.

The rest of the night was spent on her couch, locked in a sweet embrace.

--

Elene carried her shoes with her as she regained her self control and tiptoed down the stairs to return to her room. The rush of the evening was gone, the thrill of liquor and dancing evaporated. All she wanted to do now was return to her rooms and convince herself that she could leave Victor behind.

The tears were threatening to barrage now, so she quickened her steps and lowered her head. And then suddenly, a big warm hand found her wrist—long fingers encircled it.

Elene’s head jerked upwards, knowing that it was him.

It was always him.

“And where are you going?” Victor asked quietly.

“Away from you!” she spat, yanking herself away and attempting to push past him.

He pulled her back abruptly against him and Elene hissed as she collided with his chest.

“We need to talk,” he muttered, towering over her.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” she shot back.

“What do you want me to do? Call the wedding off?”

“Yes!” her eyes blazed.

Victor hissed, and dragged her into his rooms. “Damn it! Tell me what you want, from me, for yourself, from everyone! I can’t read your mind!”

“Do you love me?” she asked him flat out. “Depending on your answer, I can have everything or nothing to do with you.”

“Is this why you have been acting like this?”

“Answer me!”

He hesitated, and sighed. “Your company means much to me. I find you witty, your words charming, your conversation and manner perfect. I find you beautiful. But I am engaged—how am I to say I love you without having myself lose face?”

“But do you?” she whispered.

“Elene, I do.” His eyes burned into hers with an intensity that scared her.

“Prove it,” she murmured. “Call the wedding off.”

“I cann—”

“I will not sneak around my Princess for anyone,” Elene whispered harshly. “Even for you. She has been so good to me, and I would not have this happen to her. And she will revel in the canceled wedding.”

“But His Majesty—”

“If you ask Kristen to help you present your case, his Majesty will relent.”

“Are you sure? This will cost me so much, not in wealth but in image.”

“If you won’t call off the wedding, I will never speak to you again,” she whispered. “I swear.”

Victor looked her in the eyes and knew she meant it. This was one thing he would have to do, and he wasn’t sure that he would regret it.

He whispered something, and her features broke out in a smile for the ages.

--

“Kristen, wake up.”

Then, a few minutes later, “Wake up, love.”

And then—“Princess!”

Groggily, Kristen dragged herself from the depths of a deep sleep only to see Calvin poke his head from the hallway outside of her bedroom. Her bedroom?

“Calvin?” she asked huskily.

“Finally,” he laughed quietly. “But hurry! Victor has requested counsel with the King, and both you and I are needed to be there. I am supposed to be the messenger.”

Kristen yawned, and changed into a different gown, a deeper purple color. “What is the meeting about?” she asked, looking up at him.

He tensed slightly. “The wedding.”

Her eyes widened, and immediately her stride elongated.

“Do you think he is—” she asked.

“I don’t think anything,” Calvin answered quietly as he easily kept pace with her. “That way, I won’t be disappointed.”

“Good philosophy,” Kristen muttered as she hurried through the halls and up the staircase. “Who else will be there?”

“Victor, Gregory and your brother,” Calvin answered. “And the usual scribes and such.”

Kristen registered this and began sprinting towards her father’s study.

But before she could enter, Calvin grabbed her wrist.

“Princess!” his voice was hushed, but still urgent. “They mustn’t see you dash in there,” he murmured.

Obviously, he was right, she thought. But it didn’t stop her from wanting to enter as fast as she could.

Calvin sighed ruefully and pulled her to him, gently dropping a kiss onto her lips. As her eyes widened, stunned, he pushed her towards the door.

“Go on. I’m not to be in there, but I’ll be waiting,” he murmured, and dazedly she entered.

“Oh good, her Highness is here,” one of the scribes sighed in relief. “We may begin.”

Her brother gave her an odd look as she walked in, but she didn’t care.

Kristen heard the beginning proceedings through a daze as she resisted the urge to raise her fingers to her tingling lips. She could still smell him on her clothes…

“—and I, Victor Peter Montgomery, do hereby request—”

The first thing she’d do if she were free would be to kiss Calvin, hard.

“—that I and Crown Princess Kristen Devereux be released from an engagement—”

And maybe she would get to go out with him in public…

“—in the hopes that the Princess can marry a man of her own choosing—”

Oh please, he only wanted Elene…but she knew that he would never be able to say that in this setting…

“—and so I present my case to Your Majesty.”

Kristen held her breath.

“You fought hard for my daughter’s hand,” the King was saying. “Why the sudden change of heart?”

Don’t question it dammit!

“With respect, sire, I realize that we are not meant to be,” Victor said carefully. Kristen saw Gregory roll his eyes.

The King considered. “However, the wedding proceedings have already gone on for too long to halt. Invitations have been sent. Someone must be married.”

Kristen grinned as she stepped forward. “Victor can still be married,” she struggled to keep her face straight. “Not to me, but to Elene.”

King Paul looked at her sharply. “Is there something I should know?”

“Nothing,” Kristen’s amusement faded quickly off her features.

He looked at her, and Kristen could see the calculations going in his mind.

“I would have everyone leave for a few moments. I think I need to speak with you alone,” he said.

Kristen held herself as regally as she could as the rest of the occupants filed out slowly.

“Did you have any hand in this?” the King asked her abruptly. “I know how much you…fought against your engagement.”

“And how would I have a hand in anything involving Victor when I go out of my way to ignore him?” she snapped. Her father was so—dammit, she wished her mother was still alive to make him think sensible thoughts.

He suppressed the urge to sigh. Kristen seemed to hate him now, after the failed attempt at marriage—and how was he supposed to show that he truly cared about her well-being? Every time he tried to reach out she shot him down.

“Call the scribes and Victor in,” he murmured wearily, seeing her hot glare as she turned and opened the door again.

The men waiting outside filed back in and the King gestured for his scribes to begin the paperwork needed for such a change.

Silently, Kristen backed away and exited the room with a huge grin plastered to her features.

As she dashed out of the room, she almost crashed into Calvin.

“Well? What happened?” he asked anxiously, a worried frown creasing his face.

“I’m free!” she hugged him hard, took his arm and tugged him behind her as she skipped to her rooms.

He laughed at her infectious happiness. “Finally! Oh Kristen…”

“Calvin, we do not need to be secret now,” she smiled up at him, her eyes creasing in genuine happiness, and he couldn’t help but scoop her up in his arms.

She laughed as he carried her to her suite.

--

Kristen kissed him as soon as he lowered her onto the sofa, and he kissed back.

“Oh gods,” she whispered. “I can’t believe it.”

“I suppose we can step out in public together now?” he laughed softly against her neck.

“Gods yes,” she answered, but her gaze lowered.

“What’s wrong?” Calvin asked, sitting up and pulling her upright.

“Madeline,” she said simply.

He made a face. “Don’t worry about her,” and suddenly she found herself on his lap.

“If you say so.”

--