Preface: This remains my most fought-over Chapter mentally. I feel like I will rework this before B2 launches, but the essence of the Chapter remains what I want it to be. Constructive suggestions are most welcome.

  Leonidas turned promptly on his heel as awareness caught up to his reality, and reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “{This is ridiculous…}” he said while trying to ignore the embarrassed heat spreading across his cheeks all the way to his neck and ears. “{You are utterly mad, Ceruviel! You damn well know I—}”

  “{Oh please, boy, spare me your repressed drivel. There are communal baths all over the Thronehold! Your own Roman Empire and many other nations throughout Terran history would—}”

  “{This is not Rome, Ceruviel!}” Leonidas cut in, and glared over his shoulder through the veil of steam and scent of lilacs, only to see Aylar, again, and turn away with another blush and a surge of awkward discomfort. “{You may not understand my opposition to intimacy, Ceruviel, but you could still respect it. Why is Princess Aylar here, and why did you not at least warn me? You said you would let me approach this as I saw fit!}”

  “{I wanted a break from the palace and decided to visit the Matthersons,}” Aylar answered instead of Ceruviel, and in a tone that spoke to a mix of annoyance, embarrassment, and something Leonidas suspected was mild frustration. “{Ceruviel offered me a chance to relax, Leonidas, and I accepted gladly. We are due to go into a Delve that very well might claim our lives.}”

  Aylar shifted in the water, and her voice took on a firmer, more formal tone, as if she were retreating from a rejection he had implied, which he mentally kicked himself for.

  “{The Rite of Ascension is not a casually undertaken endeavor. I wished to indulge in some luxury alongside a haelfar my mother regarded as a sister, and I see as an Aunt. I will accept that this situation is not fair to you, regarding your reservations—and that perhaps Ceruviel was hasty in her deception, and I should have interceded—but my being here is not about you, Earl Latherian.}”

  Leonidas winced at the use of his formal title and grimaced at realizing how distancing it was when used by Aylar. He had earned that subtle reprimand by calling her Princess, he supposed. She clearly disliked the enforced distance the title implied, if he had to guess.

  “{I did not mean to make your presence sound like it was unwelcome, Aylar. I… I only mean that it feels improper for me to be so intimate with you, especially when we are not even courting, and—}”

  “{I don’t care about you seeing me naked, Leonidas. I let Ceruviel hide my presence, by omission, I suppose, because I… well, quite frankly, I wanted to surprise you. I had thought it might be fun to tease you a little. We’ve spent so much time together lately, and I am hardly exposed, after all. I am proud of the beauty my mother passed down to me—}” the confidence in her words made him glance at her on impulse, then wrench his gaze away with an unspoken curse for his lack of self-control “{—and I see no shame in wielding it, not when it comes to the man I am considering marrying.}”

  Leonidas went still at her words and frowned at the open doors.

  Finally, after a few seconds, he found his way to speech again.

  “{Aylar, I am not sure you understand what you are getting yourself—}”

  “{Oh? Am I ignorant to your eyes, Archon? Do you believe we are poorly matched because of what we are?}” the Swordmaiden cut in levelly. “{Because you are Terran, and I am not? Because we do not know one another? Because I do not know what so corrosively haunts your soul? The pain you shoulder is not a problem to me, Leonidas. It is something to understand, not something to fear. We are more than capable of ameliorating our lack of intimacy with time and candid discourse.}”

  The Princess shifted again, and he could almost feel her staring at him shrewdly.

  “{I do not think this is about me, Leonidas, nor even about you. I think this is about the fact that I remind you of someone you once loved, and you cannot see past a ghost.}”

  Leonidas stiffened at that and glanced back at Ceruviel angrily, whose presence was clear, despite the steam—but Aylar pre-empted his reaction.

  “{She did not say anything, my lord, other than to confirm my suspicion when it was raised. Did you think I would miss the way you looked at me, Leonidas? Am I truly so naive in your eyes? The looks of yearning, the hope, the desire—only for it to always cool and fade—replaced by grief? You may be the Heaven-Defying Knight, Leonidas Achilles, but you are still a man, and your eyes betray you as readily as anyone else. Of that you may be assured.}”

  “{It is not that simple, Aylar,}” he said roughly, thinking of Elatra, of Lyara, and all that it entailed with a grimace. “{There are things about me that make this complicated in the worst ways. It is entirely unfair to expect you, or any woman, to—}”

  “{I am not an idiot, Leonidas!}” Aylar said abruptly, and seemingly slapped the water in frustration.

  Despite the situation, he couldn’t help but smile a little. The slip in her normal mask was, in the purest way, quite endearing. It also, strangely enough, put some more distance between her and Lyara in his head—only a small amount, but enough to let him breathe a little easier.

  “{Damn it,”} Aylar muttered. “{Do you think I wanted to—to feel this way about you? Do you think I wanted to find myself drawn to you, after that first disastrous meeting? I knew then that something was wrong, but I did not heed that feeling. Ceruviel told me I needed to bring you to my side of the succession, and I knew what she wanted, and I guessed at what she was plotting—but even knowing it, I allowed it to happen. Did you think that was anything but a choice? I saw it coming, and foolish or not, I let it!}”

  Aylar’s words became fraught with a mix of frustration and self-recrimination as she continued, allowing her Royal mask to slip the more she spoke. It sounded to Leonidas as if venting her feelings was a catharsis that she had denied herself for a long time—too long, by the sounds of it.

  It was something he, of all people, could understand, and so he listened.

  He’d felt the same need more than once since his Return.

  “{I let myself respect you, your prowess, your honor, your dutiful adherence to Ceruviel’s teachings—all while foolishly believing it would never become admiration, and surely never become attraction, and definitely not the beginnings of an infatuation that makes me act like an adolescent with her first crush! I am the Princess-Royal of Dawnhaven, daughter of the Heroine-Queen of Altera! I am a Swordmaiden, and you, you stupid, blind, beautiful man, make me feel like a girl in one of those damnable Terran romance tomes!}”

  Leonidas took a breath at how similar her words sounded to what he had heard less than an hour prior, and glanced over his shoulder without letting his eyes land on her, focusing on the bubbles and the ornate gilding of the bath instead.

  “{Aylar, I carry… burdens,}” he said at last, his voice lower, and filled with his own concern. He needed her to understand, damn it. “{Ceruviel helps me shoulder them as she can, but I am not whole. I am not... It—My mind—I have scars there, scars that run deep. With the complications surrounding my past, especially with haelfenn—}”

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  Leonidas sighed and rubbed his face again in frustration.

  “{I am worried it would end in disaster,}” he admitted with a shiver of discomfort at exposing himself. “{You do not deserve to be subjected to my problems on top of the pressure of the Throne.}”

  “{Leonidas, we are not even past the Rite of Ascension, and you are worrying about the Throne? Divines! You really are just…. just… inexplicable! Do you believe you have a monopoly on grief and suffering? Do you think you are the only one who is afraid of what a relationship between us might bring? You do not even realize what you are doing, do you? No! Because you are so determined to protect me even when I never asked for it. Do you not see? You are devaluing my agency as if I were an invalid, and you do not even realize it!}”

  Aylar’s movement splashed the water again as she made some sort of gesture of frustration, and he heard Ceruviel chortle in unabashed amusement when she did.

  “{That confidence of yours, Leonidas, paired with your calm certainty. That is what makes you a perfect partner for me. You have a knack for leadership and reassurance that is so natural it even catches me off guard, and I was raised to spot such things! Gods of Altera, that steady belief, the way you say ‘King’ as if my ascension to Queen-Potentiate is already a given...}”

  A laugh left the Princess-Royal’s lips, both despairing and amused in equal measure.

  “{Gods, Gods, that confidence of yours. The way you just make everything feel under control. It is maddening. It is infuriating! You are just flawed enough to be the perfect romance protagonist, and that is the worst part of it all!}”

  “{Why do you keep mentioning—}”

  “{I READ ROMANCE NOVELS TO DECOMPRESS, LEONIDAS!}” Aylar shouted in a way that sounded like a barrier shattering, equal parts frustrated and defensive. “{I HAPPEN TO LIKE THEM, THANK YOU VERY MUCH!}”

  Leonidas flinched in embarrassment, and Ceruviel laughed again—this time with a sound of vindication.

  “{I did not mean to imply you could not indulge in—}” he sighed and cut off mid-statement, looking to the ceiling and silently praying for guidance. “{Aylar, I appreciate your candor, and I will not be dishonest and say I do not find you attractive in kind, especially given the warmth and empathy you show everyone you meet, but this—this is not as simply overcome as you may believe it to be. Not for lack of desire, because I would be lying if I said you are not beautiful, but I—}”

  Leonidas growled and shook his head.

  “{I cannot just—this is not the right time for this decision, Aylar. I am sorry. I need to speak to Ceruviel, but I will wait until you two are done. I am hearing you, but I cannot give you an answer. Not now. Not like this.}”

  Silence followed his words, and he glanced back surreptitiously to see Aylar frowning in thought while staring at the water, blessedly still veiling her. Amidst the steam, with her hair free and her face faintly glistening from the water and heat, she looked like a rendition of a beauty goddess. He felt like a fool, in that moment, and then looked away again with a grimace.

  Nice work, Ace.

  “{Allow me to make it easier for you, then,}” Aylar said tightly after a moment of further thought, at which point he heard the sound of displaced water, followed by the sound of bare, wet feet against marble when the Princess stepped out of the immense Roman-style bath. “{I am not a foolish adolescent, Leonidas Achilles,}” she said more quietly, her voice no less firm despite it. “{I am the Princess-Royal, I am a Swordmaiden, and more than both, I am a Lady well into her age of majority. I may be young by the reckoning of my people, but this world does not care for such things. Our future is too important, not just for us, but for this nation.}”

  Her words rang true for him sharply, recalling his own time on Elatra unbidden—the way he’d been forced to grow up, to confront things no twenty-something should have ever had to see. Leonidas opened his mouth to speak, and then shut it after a moment. It wasn’t the right time to interrupt. He could feel, subtly, the need she had to express what she was feeling. He wouldn’t take that from her.

  Instead, he just listened. He let her say what she felt, however she felt it.

  Sometimes, he knew from personal experience, that was all someone needed.

  “{You and I are of an age, Leonidas, and I can see what war has done to you—how it has forged your need for self-determination, your reservations, even the scars you think no one can see, and I respect that. I truly do. All I ask is the same respect for my agency, and my right to decide for myself what I want… what I—and Dawnhaven—need. I will not be a displayed treasure; admired, protected, but never touched for fear of being broken. I will not be set aside for fear of what might happen. I did not let my parents do it when I chose to come to Terra, and I will not accept it being done to me now.}”

  Leonidas turned away quickly when Aylar approached him and strode past, carrying the scent of lilacs and jasmine, toward the doors to Ceruviel’s expansive rooms.

  “{I will see myself dressed and attend to the Matthersons again before I return to the Palace,}” the Princess declared, her voice slightly strained with formality. “{You, Leonidas… you will think on what I have said. I… I am not in the business of exposing myself this way, and I insist you take the gravity of my words seriously.}”

  Aylar paused, and Leonidas grimaced at her words, realizing he had probably failed to properly acknowledge just what it must have taken for her to be that emotionally vulnerable. If anyone understood, after everything, it was him.

  “{I am drawn to you as a woman, Leonidas,}” she continued with quieter inflection, though it was no less certain in its delivery. “{But my choice, that being you, is not an impulsive one made by a silly girl. I will be Queen, Leonidas, as you said—and I will have a King at my side who can not only unite this Thronehold, but build a future for all of its people. I hope it will be someone like you, but I will not dishonor myself by waiting forever.}”

  Aylar paused at the doorway, and he heard her weight shift as she turned back.

  His eyes betrayed his self-control when she did, and he looked at her, drinking her in, before discipline resurfaced and he snapped his gaze away. The sight of her bare, toned body burned itself into his mind like with self-mocking desire, and he grit his teeth.

  Jesus Christ, she’s beautiful. What the hell is wrong with me?

  +{A fine question, my foolish Squire,}+ Ceruviel said into his mind in a tone that was equal parts amused and displeased by what she no doubt saw as yet another fumbled opportunity. +{A fine question indeed.}+

  “{You are so wise and powerful in many ways, Leonidas,}” Aylar said more gently, and with a quiet sense of inflective assessment. “{But you are such a boy in others—inexperienced, and immature both. I count those as very forgivable, even endearing failings, but failings they remain. I would marry you, still, because I know the future we could create together—but I will neither beg nor plead. You must understand the benefits of our union by your own volition, or I will face Braedon alone when he challenges me, and I will fight knowing I am the right person to rule, regardless of his superior strength.}”

  “{I know,}” Leonidas said gruffly. “{I saw that strength in you the first time we met. I know you will, Aylar. I do not think anyone could ever doubt your determination.}”

  The Princess-Royal hesitated at his words in his periphery, lifted a hand, and then turned away and dropped it. He heard her sigh in frustration as she paused one last time, and then spoke the last of what was on her mind with the same powerful certainty.

  It was a Queen’s certainty.

  “{Whether you stand at my side to weather the challenge that is to come, as my Champion and future husband—or watch me fall as no more than a companion—is wholly your choice. I can stomach my intended and our future King fighting that battle on behalf of our nation, but I will not consent to being protected like a damsel by only an Archon. The choice will be yours. Not today, not even tomorrow—but sooner than either of us may like. Consider that, Earl Latherian. Consider it well.}”

  And then she turned and departed, not giving him a chance to reply as she vanished into Ceruviel’s quarters and drew the doors closed behind her with a very intentional bang.

  It echoed in the silence she left behind, like a condemnation Leonidas could not entirely deny that he deserved.

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