8 Chapter Seven

"He's not the only prince going, you know."

Despite the raucous crowd, the voice cut through the chatter like butter. I turned towards the palace entrance, my eyes glittering. From the shadow behind a column, Roman emerged, dressed in all black. His outfit sharply contrasted the white stone and marble the palace had been carved out of. Although his expression was cold and gloomy as usual, he was captivating.

He glanced over and met my gaze, smiling softly.

"I'm joining this mission."

Ieuan flinched back, as if burned.

Far from his sleepy, relaxed posture, Roman strode down confidently. He wore a black military coat with glittering golden thread. Several medals were attached haphazardly across his chest, and similar to Ieuan, he had the imperial crest embroidered on the back. But underneath the phoenix, framing his symbol - a silver sword surrounded by stars - were delicate bundles of wisteria.

I breathed in sharply.

The exact opposite of Ieuan, Roman stood towards the front of the troops, arms folded, eyes shut. I saw him look around briefly, but his search stopped once he caught sight of Ethan. Although he was surrounded by other people, in the shadows compared to Ieuan's gleaming figure, all eyes were on him.

He was enchanting.

Ieuan seemed to hesitate on stage, not knowing how to act now that everybody's attention was no longer on him. He gave another speech, but his voice was mild and his words empty. Besides, no one seemed to listen.

Roman looked handsome. Although he stood at the bottom of the steps, the sun gleamed upon his dark, midnight colored hair, turning it almost into a rich blue. His face was beautiful and serene - gentle eyes, smooth lips, a straight nose. His long lashes brushed against the top of his cheeks. In his military uniform, he stood tall and striking. His clothes weren't blue, but black. Numerous military awards glittered across his chest like stars. More awards than Ieuan, even.

Ieuan's attention also seemed to be on him, as he clenched the hilt of his sword tightly while staring at Roman.

The Emperor seemed troubled as well, his eyes furrowed in distaste.

"Well," he said uncomfortably. "That concludes it for the departure ceremony."

---

We didn't get to say goodbye to Ethan one last time. They immediately left, in the neat lines they stood in during the ceremony. I drank in sight of Roman's dark hair, and he seemed to turn imperceptibly towards me. We didn't make eye contact again.

The troops received regular checkups every three days - one of the perks of following the first prince. Ethan sent letters, and we wrote him back. I often tried to add dried flowers, or scented herbs, something nice. A couple of times I had to resist adding a note addressed to Roman.

Ethan seemed happy enough, despite all the mud and body soreness he mentioned in his letters. They had quickly reached the borders, and the skirmishes were small, although often. In the past, the border mission had lasted for a little less than two weeks. Connection had been cut off after the first week because they had been ambushed and had to take shelter.

Time passed slowly. Arthur started bothering me more often, seeing Ethan's absence as an opportunity to talk.

"Val," he whined. "Come on. I never get to hang out with you."

"Aren't you employed?" I snapped.

"Yes, I'm coming back especially on the weekends to see you." He smiled. "Please?"

On the ninth day no letter arrived.

My mother fell to her knees in the sitting room. My father supported her gently. "Ethan's going to be alright. He's strong."

Arthur seemed stricken. I knew what was going to happen, but my heart clenched a little bit too.

"Remember when Arthur got lost in the mountains for three days? He's back. He's safe with us."

"But this is Ethan's first trip." She sobbed. "He's - he's inexperienced."

"Don't worry, dear." My father wrapped his arms around her shoulders.

"He'll be alright. He'll come back to us, safe and sound."

---

The next few days followed with a tense uneasiness. Even though I knew of Roman's capabilities, I couldn't help but worry. What if Ethan was dead, bleeding out in the cold alone? What if a knife had pierced his chest? What if he was unable to move? What if Roman was injured?

I clenched my hands so hard I accidentally snapped off the handle of a teacup. The sharp porcelain cut through my skin, drawing blood. A maid immediately rushed forward and helped me wrap up the wound.

This wasn't good.

In my worry, I couldn't even remember what day the troops had returned on. Instead, I sat blankly at my desk, fiddling with the paper I used to send letters.

"Val."

I turned sharply. Arthur stood at my doorway, worried.

"Are you alright?"

I stared at him for a moment, and then nodded. Arthur was always the more reserved brother, but now he looked solemn.

"Eat something." He took a sandwich out of his pocket and placed it on my desk. It was wrapped with brown parchment. When I touched it, the bread was still warm.

"He's going to be alright." Arthur said, his voice firm. "Ethan's talented. Far more talented than most of my own knights. He's not going to die."

He probably wouldn't. He had Roman and even Ieuan besides him. I knew for certain he wouldn't die, but my hands still shook as I picked up the sandwich. I remembered running to home as the capital was devoured by flames. I had hugged Ethan, so tightly, his soot-smudged face trembling in my hands. I remembered walking into the hall and seeing Roman brandish his sword. I blocked his swing, barely, with my own body. I remembered the relief that flooded through me after seeing Ethan safe.

The relief mixed with blood as I died in his arms.

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