"nd you actually got away with that?" I asked, voice hoarse from laughing so much as I stared at Father's bright eyes. Even under the shadows of his large hood, I could see them glowing with amusement.

He reached for my hand from under my black cloak and interlaced his fingers with mine as we walked on the cobblestone roads of Vemor. We'd been talking and laughing since the two hours we had left the castle. He led me through some of the streets he loved most in the capital before we decided to go for the Fawn Market.

It was still early, the sun signaling nine in the morning, but I had laughed so hard I knew my stomach would hurt for the rest of the day. Unlike the three past days, the air between us was light as he talked about what his life was like before being crowned king.

"Well, I always knew Mother had a weakness for that innocent smile I mastered so well. A few adoring gazes with big eyes were enough to make her sentimental part cloud her judgment."

"You set some of the maids' dresses on fire and then turned some to stone," I said incredulously, ''and got away with some puppy eyes and a smile?"

He laughed, voice booming loud as we sauntered under the shade of an arch of intertwined trees. Gentle, golden sunlight filtered through the foliage, most of the leaves already turning to warm colors due to the autumn season. A little less than two months and those trees would be bare of life and coated with nothing but snow and ice.

"In my defense, I was a child. And one that didn't particularly like being locked up in four walls."

"Of course, you had every single right to do that."

He laughed again, his hand, still holding mine gently swaying in the space between us.

"I wonder how much disasters I can get away from you with a couple smiles," I mused, swinging my arm back and forth between us. It was childish, but this conversation--this joking and messing around and just being alone--felt like a dream I'd wished for so many times in the past I couldn't believe it was finally real.

"Don't even try that, darling." I arched an eyebrow. "I know better than to fall for those tricks."

"Not fair." I whined, taking my hand from his, crossing my arms, and pouting as best as I could without cracking. I failed once he chuckled and found myself smiling hard as he placed an arm around my shoulders.

Childish indeed--but it was something different, something I'd never been allowed to have before.

The citizens around us didn't give us a second glance, most of them in a rush to reach the market before all goods sold out. Many of them were hooded, and since the cloths we'd put one were nothing fancy, we easily passed as commoners enjoying the vibrancy of the capital.

"Oh don't claim innocence," he drawled, voice lowering as he tightened that arm, drawing me closer. "I used to watch you when you were on Earth, and you did give that old woman quite a hard time. My favorite of all was that day you thought it would be fun trying to bake by your own and turned yourself and the kitchen into a mess."

"I was five!" I complained, hitting him lightly on the chest.

"And I was seven when I decided to sneak out," countered Father. "That changes nothing."

"Fine. But you were more diabolic than I ever was."

"This is disputable." He grinned as he looked down at me. "You are my child, after all. Honestly, I would have been disappointed if you didn't give Martha one or two heart attacks."

"What makes you so sure I didn't take upon Mother as a child?"

"Whoever lied to you and said Elena was more angelic than I ever was as a child?"

"Guessed--apparently I was wrong."

"Terribly wrong, I give you that." He laughed again, voice growing loud as he did so. "We were quite a pair when we were young. It was a good few years after we met that we became more…reasonable."

"I wonder," I whispered, staring him dead in the eyes. "About what your people would have been like if they knew how their rulers acted behind closed doors."

"Most likely, they would have freaked out." He squeezed my shoulders again. "But don't you act like you are such a saint. I watched you grow. And we both know you weren't the picture of innocence."

I smiled smugly. "You said it yourself, I am your child."

He chuckled again and we walked a few minutes in silence, catching our breaths. We crossed a small, stone bridge over a pond of clear water. It was so clear I could see every detail of the nymphs swimming as though they were floating in nothing but air.

I wrapped my arms around his waist, careful keeping our cloaks well around us, and asked, "How long did you watch over me? How much do you know?"

His voice was soft when he answered, "Since you were a month old and I had enough strength to track your Sun. Siltheres made it hard at first, but I caught grasp of you in the end." He stared at me with intent adoration in his eyes that I felt my heart burn. "I watched you as you grew. I was there when you said your first word, even when it broke me that it was Martha's name." He hugged me tight and laughed at a memory, but that laugh, unlike all, was broken. Edged. Painful in a way.

"When Elena still had you in her womb, we would argue about whose name you would say first." He smiled distantly before he shook the past off. "I was there when you took your first steps, too. And on your first day of school. Every day until you were twelve, I guarded you. But then, I became too weak and when I was sure you were safe, I stopped coming as frequently. I still stared at you from time to time, when I would feel a strong surge of emotions. When you felt joy, I wouldn’t come, knowing you were well, even when the fact that those times were so little killed me."

He kissed my forehead, hand sliding from my shoulder to rub idle circles down my back. ''I was there whenever you woke up from a nightmare and when you were heartbroken because you thought the boy you liked didn't even look at you. I was there during every time you wished you had someone. But you could never know it, could never see that I was there for you. All along."

Pain laced his words before they darted through. He had been there. Had never left me alone.

"I know you, Celestia,'' he admitted, voice so low it was like the brush of air against leaves. ''More than you believe. I know your favorite colors are green and blue. I know that you love reading, know your favorite childhood movie and dessert. And I know that you never allowed Martha close because you were afraid she'd leave you like you believed we did. You don't know how much you killed me that day, on your tenth birthday, when you stared at the door, realizing we would never come back for you. That day you decided to hate us."

Pure guilt came crashing on me. That feeling had been there the day Ramos told me of what happened when I was born. It grew and grew as days passed where I learned about who my parents were. But now, it was a suffocating pressure on my throat.

I tried swallowing that heaviness and joked, ''At least I am not the only Ardorian that knows what a movie is."

He chortled at that, ever so slightly forced.

''Yes, humans and their odd creations. Thank the Five we have magic." I smiled at that. "The last time I checked on you was a few days before you came home, making sure nothing from those prophecies hurt you."

Something in me picked up at the memory. A distant face appeared in my memory. "There was a man before light swallowed me, sewn by sunlight. He had green eyes, just like yours. He protected me from the shadows that hunted me down the streets. Was that you?''

I felt the tension that build in his muscles so hard I had to lift my eyes and stare at him. His face was unreadable. "There wasn't supposed to be anyone there. No man with green eyes or shadows tracking you down. The prophecies said you'd come by your own."

Suddenly, everything around me vanished. I didn't feel the warmth of the light that brushed the world in warm colors. Didn't smell the autumn blooms caressed by dancing zephyrs. It was as though I was back on those streets, surrounded by frozen humans as I ran for my life.

It was the tug of my father's arm around me that woke me from the trance. I blinked once. Twice. And then, I was in a small park, back in Vemor with my arms still around my father.

"I'll ask your messengers about that."

I nodded and walked for a good few minutes in silence. If we kept walking on this pace, we'd be at the market after a good half an hour. If not more. Which was good as long as I could savor each moment with my king before I had to leave tomorrow.

When I grew bored of the silence, I pried, "Since you know me all too well, why don't we go back to speaking about you?"

"As you wish, sweetheart." His hand stopped drawing circles and fell around my waist. "What do you want to know this time?"

"How did you meet my mother?''

He smiled, as though he was waiting for this one question. "I was eight when I first met Elena. She was five. I still remember Ramos returning from a long meeting in Rimelia with a small girl hiding inside his cloak. Even as a kid, she stroke me as the most beautiful person I'd never seen. Two days past then and we considered ourselves best friends. Ramos had known her family before everyone she loved was--" he paused, weighing what word to use. "Butchered in front of her eyes. And because he loved her very much, he decided to raise her like his own child. That was good for me because it meant she would live in the castle. We grew together and we became inseparable. She was fast to become friends with Daélim and Claurod and Estelle. We were just like you and your friends are: a family."

"Now that you mentioned it, I heard that Ramos lost his family, is that true?"

"He had once, four centuries back. He was married and had two sons. The three of them died, his wife and youngest son by a sword through their guts. His eldest died a few years following as he sacrificed himself to save a country under attack back in Nevora. He'd never loved any woman past his wife."

I didn't reply. He'd told me he had lost people he loved once, back during the night he gave me special lessons. But never all of this pain and dark past. And I knew that not even another three centuries would heal that wound.

Instead of asking more about the old man I loved very much, knowing whatever I wanted to know, Ramos would tell me, pain or no pain, I continued down that curious path. "And when did you realize she was the one?"

"Ah, that." I arched my eyebrows as he rubbed his trimmed beard he allowed to grow because, apparently, didn't feel like shaving. "It is a longer story."

I only stared at him, waiting.

"Marked royals are different than anyone else when it comes to finding his or her soul mate. When our magic stabilizes after eighteen, we can find that significant other any day. It is like we allow our souls to find with who it feels comfortable. To find the one that is just right for us, that completes us in everything. Sometimes it is someone you know since you are young, sometimes it is a face that is new in your life. It differs by person. There is one moment when you stare at that person, when you see the world through them, and you just know this is the soul meant to be with you."

"So it isn't our choice?"

"I wouldn't say that. When you look back, you realize that you have in a way picked that person. The bond that snaps after that is just as a sort of blessing from the Gods. It means that they agree that this is the one that will bear the missing symbol."

"And when did you know it? How did you?"

He looked at me, an eyebrow arched with a hint of suspicion. "Curious much. Are you in a rush?"

I snickered. "No, just curiosity. Besides, my magic hasn't stabilized, so I don't have to worry about all of that yet."

"True."

Curiousness, yes. And then there was Leon. Oh, he would flip if he ever caught us so close in that garden. Even when I knew he had a fondness for Leon, I doubted that would stop those paternal needs to protect from waking up.

"It happened when I was twenty-one. We had gone out that night and spent our time near the lake I showed you on our way. It was her favorite spot. At the time, I had already fallen for her even when I tried suppressing those feelings because they are too dangerous when you don't know who your soul will chose. And then, it rained on us."

He smiled to himself at the memory and I hardened my embrace around him. There was pain, yes, but also light in that handsome face.

"We didn't run back to the castle." He let out a small laugh. "Instead, I asked her to dance with me even when we were soaked from head to toes. She didn't say no. And it was when she put her hand in mine, when she laughed as she draped an arm around my neck, her dimples dotting her mouth as she smiled for me''—he stared at me with eyes that were filled with love for the woman I looked so much like—''that I felt it. Light flashed between us and for a moment, I felt like I was forged anew. I felt like I owned the world with her in my arms. She felt it the same moment I did and told me that she actually felt the same thing way before that night. But she was too scared to admit it because she was, like I had been, scared she wouldn't be the one for me. We kissed for the first time that night. Two weeks later, I proposed."

"Someone was in a rush,'' I mumbled, earning a chuckle.

"I didn't see a point in waiting longer than that."

"What happens if someone loved us but wasn't meant for us?"

"We, marked ones, are rarely paired with someone we haven't subconsciously chosen. But if it happens, the person we loved previously doesn't hold that place anymore. It just that we become aware that isn't right. The other lover, it is a darker turn. If that love isn't deep or real enough, they move on like everyone does in their life. But there are times, scarce as they are, when those persons love with devotion. They get broken, and some of them either live in the past and its ache, or decide to end."

I stopped dead in my place. End it. Death. For a moment, I imagined Leon at the end of the road, staring at me with broken eyes. If we were meant for each other, I would break him by dying. And if we weren't, but if his words were true under that willow—and I knew they were—I would still shatter him beyond saving.

Gods. I would hurt him in both cases, would tear his heart again and again and again. No.

Father must have sensed something was off, and for a heartbeat, I thought he understood it all. I didn't deign look at him when his eyes lingered on the heaviness weighing my lashes. I blinked the tears away, tilting my head so he wouldn't see it. But he still picked on it all even when I said nothing, did nothing to confirm it. He said no word, just pulling me closer to him.

"Has it happened before that someone killed himself because of this?"

"Yes." It was that agony in his voice that snapped my attention.

"For you?"

He didn't reply, only stared far in the distance at the mob of people growing closer. Then, he murmured, "Yes. But let's speak about later, tonight if you want. Just not now."

I nodded mutely.

We walked in silence after that for a good ten minutes before we reached the Fawn Market. It was then that I understood where the name came from. The stalls, marquees, tents, everything placed in that massive square in the west of the Leviathan River was painted fawn in color. And between the woods circling the place, does were gracefully mowing. Even when they showed no sign of carriage so early, I could feel the forging of the fawns' spirits growing in their wombs.

There were easily more than four hundred souls in this massive market, running from merchant to merchant, baskets in hands, trying to provide most of their needs before winter arrived.

Through the heavy crowd, I felt familiar auras. Scanning through the sea of faces, I couldn't find my friends, but their spirits told me enough about their whereabouts. I wasn't in a rush as Father and I passed from one stall to the other, observing.

The way he had his hand tight around mine made me feel like a mere kid, but I would be damned if I ever denied enjoying that attention. We passed several tables, some with foods, other with provisions and cloths and house needs. We didn't stop to eat, stomachs already full from the breakfast we had at a bakery in the upper streets of Vemor when we first left the castle. Not even the two hours and half of walking seemed enough to burn how much I ate.

I was passing a rather small table when I stopped, noting something I direly needed on it. I pulled my king with me, hood carefully wrapped around our heads to hide our features.

An old man smiled at me, skin wrinkled and body thin and weak. He tried rising without his cane. And failed badly.

I pulled a vial filled with bat bones grinded to dust, the grayish powder dull, meaning it was fresh and authentic. Through the past days, when I had little time without my father, I tried going through the potion that could lift Luthian's curse. It was until yesterday that I realized I was low on this very ingredient. And so did Ramos's supplies, after taking a sneak at them while listening to his report on the continents.

I put the vial on the small, wooden counter in front of the vendor.

When I turned to the disguised king, I saw him examining a small knife. Surprisingly, the metal looked hard and in a good shape. He added it to the vial, most likely willing to help the man since he had no use to it. I went through some artifacts, finding a lamp the size of my palm. The beige fabric making it was tough enough to bear the flame that should ignite in it.

Embroidered with green threads, a very detailed dragon was flying, majestic wings spread so widely they rounded the small sphere shape. Siltheres. I smiled, knowing the man couldn't see it on my face. I was about to place it back in place when a hand gently pulled it away.

I watched with curious eyes as my father placed it the counter and said, ''Anything else?"

I shook my head.

"Three silvers and seven coppers," claimed the old man, voice weak and soft and merely audible.

"I don't have this much. Two silvers,'' countered father.

So cheap; the bat bones alone worth half a pouch of gold. Most likely, he didn't even know the true worth of the vials he had displayed.

The old man stared at him with warm, brown eyes.

"I have a large family and got little paid this month. Please." Father's plea was so well I would have believed that lie.

When the vendor finally sighed, placed them in a paper bag, and said, "One and half,'' my father gave him a full pouch that looked quite heavy. The man gawked with shock.