When did I realize I loved Templeton Iorwerth, future Head Knight of Aragonia? It is hard to say. Perhaps it was when I started looking forward to our duels, because I had an excuse to be close to him; perhaps it was when my chest glowed with warmth whenever he was near, because he was my shining sun; perhaps it was the way my heart trilled when he looked at me ever so softly; perhaps it was the fact that I would die for him.

When did I realize he loved me?

I hadn't, not for the longest time. A part of me hoped he didn't, for duty would always come first, and duty would never allow me to marry someone not of royalty or nobility. Yet another part yearned with every inch of me that he did. Then one a hot summer's day, when I was thirteen and he was fifteen, and we were at a fancy dinner party thrown to celebrate some triumph or another, a pretty girl dressed in shimmering silks asked Tem to dance with her. Her cheeks blushed like perfect apples, and her eyes sparkled like dew. I remembered taking a deep breath to quench the rising fire within me as she touched his shoulder and almost whispered, "Care for a dance?"

To date I still don't know who she was or what she was named. All I remembered was Tem glancing at me – a quick, subconscious glance – and then he turned to the girl and said, "Sorry, I'm not much of a dancer."

Her lips had pouted ever so slightly, but she wasn't about to give up. Not with the strapping future Head Knight, dressed in his brand new fitted Caval. "How about a drink?"

He shook his head lightly. "I'm afraid not."

He did not flinch from her stare, even as her gaze morphed from a loving one to a furious glare. Then, barely concealing her anger, she'd said, "Your loss, Knight." And she'd stormed off.

I took a generous gulp from my glass to try and quell my nerves. "Why did you reject her?" I asked over my racing heart.

Tem raised his eyebrows and looked at me, and like every other time, I felt I had access into his deepest desires. You know why.

"Remember at the last midsummer's ball, when you asked me to dance?" he asked.

I took another gulp of punch. My skin started to tingle. "Yes."

"And you said we were so good on the dance floor, we should never dance with anyone else?"

I nodded. It was something silly I'd said in my moment of euphoria. Everything had felt so right, and as we'd danced, the rest of the ballroom merged into sparkling haze and it was just the two of us, young and fumbling, but laughing our heads off.

He smiled. "Well, I agree."

I'd blushed so furiously I had to down the rest of my glass and then pretend to scan the ballroom for a waiter to ask for more, just so I could hide my fiery red face away from him.

By rejecting every suitor that came our way, I knew we were setting ourselves up for failure and despair, but we didn't care. Anything to prolong our days together.

Which left a question I'd been pondering over the last few days, one that filled my chest with acid and tore my heart to pieces.

Did Templeton's engagement mean those days were over?

"Looking fine to-day, Miss Dircourt," Mariah said in her matronly voice, wrenching me from my daydreams and into the cold reality of my dressing room. She was gentle as she pulled, tugged and tied my corset strings, but it still felt like a viper wrapping its deadly grip around my body.

I did not feel fine, but I thanked her anyway. Soft sunlight streamed in through the sheer white curtains, dappling the beige carpet with dancing light, yet felt drearier than a day fraught with raging thunderstorms.

Mariah cleared her throat. "Just remember - it's not real, eh?" She'd retained her rotund figure from when I was a child, but her brown hair now had streaks of gray. Her glasses were round and rested neatly on her nose bridge. She'd never married, and never had children, always saying I was enough.

I nodded mutely. The buzz of wedding preparation seeped in through my window. Outside, the wedding ceremony stage was set up in the royal gardens. Someone barked for someone to "put up the gossamer," whatever that was. This wedding sure looked and felt real to me. "Yes, Mariah."

She finished with the corset and admired her handiwork in the mirror. I wore a blue silk dress with gold peonies in my hair. "You'll be a stunning maid of honor," she said warmly.

The silk dress was beautiful, and rounded out my curves - or whatever I had - quite nicely. The peonies were dazzling and complemented my fair skin and brown eyes. Yet all I saw in the mirror was a sad girl clinging onto any semblance of sanity.

I smiled a smile that did not reach my heart.

"Thank you, Mariah. Guess I'll go help the bride now."

I gave her a fleeting smile, pretended not to see her look of concern and left my bedchamber. Sympathy would break my facade.

The Shaper Wing was crowded with staff. Someone was pulling Marylea's corset together, and another was painting Marylea's eyes. She stood in the middle of it all, facing a full-length mirror. She heard the doors slide open, and when she turned to look at me, her eyes went wide, and she looked like the little left of her soul had just died inside.

"Ash," she whispered.

Her eyes spoke a thousand words. I saw a reflection of everything I felt: shock, anger, heartbreak.

Then she started to cry.

"Stop it, stop, stop!" Her makeup artist cried. "Nooo, it's not waterproof!"

"Sorry, sorry," said Marylea between sobs. "I can't - I can't help it."

Her emotions knocked me out of my daze. Suddenly, I had purpose. I dashed up to her and wrapped my arms around her. The action felt forced and awkward, but Marylea didn't seem to notice. She was too busy sobbing into her hands. "It's going to be okay," I said. "This isn't real."

Marylea turned to sob into my shoulders, ruining the golden peonies in my hair in the process. I didn't care. She sobbed and she sobbed, letting days of pent-up frustration flood my silk dress. I patted her back. I had the overwhelming urge to cry myself, but my tear ducts seemed to have shriveled up like a pond in a desert. Perhaps they knew I had to be strong for Marylea. We couldn't both be crying.

When Marylea finally ran out of tears, she lifted her head from my shoulder. "Thanks, Ash. This is all so horrible. I know you and Tem..."

"Shh." I shook my head and forced the rush of tears down. "It's all right."

Marylea sniffled and wiped tears off her face, smudging whatever make-up was left. "You're like the sister I never had."

I froze, feeling moved and honored. And the tingling inside told me I saw her as the same. But I couldn't bring myself to return the affection right now. Not when she was getting ready to be wed to Tem.

So I just smiled. "Let's get you washed up, shall we? Then we can paint your face again."

After she'd washed her face and a fresh layer of make-up was applied, I excused myself to get a costume change. Marylea gave me a lingering look as if she didn't want me to go, so I told her I'd be right back. Truth was, I needed space from her and from everyone else. Space where I could be myself, and do what I really wanted – curl up into a self-pitying ball and cry.

My room smelt of the rose mist that Mariah had spritzed on me. Mariah had left, possibly to get ready herself. I was glad she wasn't here. I shut the door, enveloped myself in silence, and began to do exactly what I wanted to do – wail like there was no tomorrow. Tears and runny make-up caked on my face, when I heard a knock on the door. I covered my mouth to muffle my sobs and waited for whoever it was to leave.

"Ash? Please let me in."

My blood froze. I jumped to my feet and unlatched the door. I opened it, and there he was. Templeton, all decked out in his white-gold Caval, his brown hair pulled back into a sleek do. His eyes were slightly puffy, as if he'd been doing what I was just doing seconds ago.

Before I knew it, we were wrapped in a tight embrace. I breathed in his scent, manly yet vulnerable, brave but kind.

We edged into my room, not separating. I shut the door closed with a slight push.

Tem's fingers trailed up my neck and onto my chin. He lifted my face, slowly, to meet his. Then he lowered his lips to mine, and everything felt all right again. His breath was hot on my lips. His arms tightened around me, pulling up against him. I drew him closer and clutched his back with hungry fingers. I ran my hand through his carefully gelled hair that parted like the red sea. We were past caring. Right now it was just us, and no one else.

Our mouths were hungry for each other, voracious. Years of dammed up emotion was released then, and we couldn't get enough. We clung to each other, took in each other's scent, explored each other's bodies like our life depended upon it. We wanted to get closer, closer.

Finally, when we grew so hot we were burning, I pulled away and looked into his smoldering gaze. My chest was exploding from passion, my heart beating a drum.

Then the truth fell in.

"You're getting married," I said, and I was ready to cry again. I'd just kissed Marylea's soon-to-be husband.

"Ash." Tem's hand cupped my face, and he nuzzled my cheek. "The wedding isn't real. Neither Marylea nor I want this wedding to happen. We're only doing it for the peace of the Kingdom."

"I know. I just –" My face scrounged into a tight, ugly ball and I sobbed into his shoulder while mine shook from crying so much. Then I started hiccuping, the way people did when their body struggled to cope with the sudden outpour of emotion.

"Shh, it's all right." Tem held my head against his shoulder. "I love you."

Fireworks exploded in my chest and all thoughts of crying vanished. I wiped my tears away and I looked up at Tem's face, searching for confirmation. "Say that again?"

Tem's face broke into a smile. "I love you." Then he knelt on one knee and took my hand. "Ashling Dircourt. I don't know when I started loving you, but I loved you when I was forced to marry another, and I will always love you. One day when the Kingdom has settled, the fake marriage will be annulled, and we will be free to marry who we love. And I love you. Ash, will you marry me?"

I stared at him, a mixture of happiness and confusion.

"But you're neither a prince nor a chancellor..."

I started laughing at his blank stare. "And I don't care. Of course I will. Yes! A million times yes." Tears crept down my cheeks, only this time they were tears of joy.