The following night, Emeria was sitting on the edge of Delilah’s bed, tucking her in for the night.

“Now, it’s time for you to get some sleep,” she nuzzled her face into Delilah’s hair, making the girl giggle, “My sweetest Little Princess.”

“Mother?”

“Hm?”

Delilah stared up at Emeria, her eyes curious and shining.

“Can you tell me more about Father?”

Emeria stared at her for a few seconds before nodding with a small smile. “What do you want to know this time?”

Delilah’s eyes were wide and hopeful, her lips pouty, giving the expression of a pleading puppy. Emeria sighed and shook her head.

“That same one, huh?”

“Please?!”

“Alright. Settle down.”

Delilah curled up into her bed, watching her mother with a smile. She closed her eyes briefly as her mother tucked some stray strands of hair behind her ear and began to talk about the day she’d met Delilah’s father.

After a minute, the little girl piped up with question after question.

“What was he like?”

“Fun.”

She leaned closer and reached for her daughter’s sides, wiggling her fingers as she tickled her. Delilah burst out in a fit of giggles that continued even when the tickling stopped.

“We didn’t know anything about each other, but we got along right away.”

“Like two peas in a pod?”

Emeria chuckled. “Mhm. Just like that.” She smiled, taking her daughter’s hand in hers. “He would say these ridiculous jokes or do these exaggerated impressions of people we passed along the way.”

“Where were you going?”

Emeria shrugged. “Nowhere. Everywhere. We just wandered the streets, enjoyed each other’s company.”

“And then you two fell in love?”

She chuckled, not wanting to dissolve the daydream her daughter had about her relationship with her father. She wasn’t sure she should call it love… but there had been so many things, so many little things he’d done that day that had made her dream of a future together. And she’d been the one to dissolve that. One day. One night. She hadn’t meant for Delilah to be born, and there may have been a time she’d have gone to Owen, to tell him the truth, to show him their daughter, but things were complicated.

A part of her heart would always belong to Owen, she knew that. And she cherished every single memory she had with him.

“There are many things I have found endearing about your father…”

She might not have called it love, might not have felt comfortable in using that word on a man she’d only spent a day with, but what else could it have been? It was more than friendship and camaraderie. It was more than just a one-night-stand, at least to her it was.

As Emeria trailed off wistfully, thinking back on a smile and laugh that had carried her through her darkest lonely moments, Delilah watched her, engrossed in everything she was saying.

Everything was silent for a moment until she spoke up. “Does thinking about him make you sad?”

Emeria tried to smile.

“Do you want to know the truth?”

Delilah nodded vigorously.

“You know, I really liked your father. Sometimes I just wonder… what it would be like if different choices were made. What it might be like if we would be together as a family instead of…”

Apart.

Delilah smiled. “It’s okay, Mother. I’m never going to leave you!”

Emeria ruffled her hair.

“I’m never leaving you either,” she told her. “But now, it’s time for bed, alright?”

“Okay! Goodnight, Mother!”

Emeria kissed her forehead and left the room. “Goodnight, Delilah.”

She walked to the window in her own room, resting a hand on the sill before staring out into the darkness of trees and nighttime. She tried to keep from sighing, but she couldn’t help it.

Ah, she told herself, it’s far too late to feel guilty for keeping you safely tucked away like this for so long. We made a deal…

Her mind drifted back to that night, to the morning and the letter she’d constructed before leaving him all alone under the covers.

I promised to never rely on you… that we’d never see each other again. Still, I can’t help but wonder. Owen… do you ever think of that night? Like I do? Do you ever change the outcome within your daydreams? Do you dream… that I stay?

She stared up at the stars, almost expecting them to respond to her thoughts.

Ah, no, I suppose not. She smiled bitterly as she thought of him. You’ve got bigger things to worry about. You’ve probably forgotten all about me by now, right?

I hope that’s the case.

“Hello, Owen.”

Just two words out of Jizelle, and Owen was on his feet.

Actually, it was only one of the words that clued him in on her wellbeing, despite her tone which remained lighthearted.

She only ever used his name informally when she was feeling incredibly unwell. He wasn’t sure if she even knew that she did it, but Owen did know and immediately went to her side, gently leading her from the doorway to his bed, getting her to sit and lay down despite the protests that she was capable and fine.

All it took was one ‘really’ in the sarcastic nonsense tone Owen sometimes used and she was giving in, her head hitting the pillow behind her. She let out a deep sigh and some of the tension slipped from her shoulders.

“You know you’re safe in here. Now rest.”

It didn’t take any more coaxing than that, as her eyes automatically started to flutter closed. But Jizelle wasn’t done talking yet.

“You should find someone you love, Owen,” she mumbled sleepily. “Truly. You’re a good man.”

He was deep in thought for a moment, staring down at Jizelle’s face. She opened her eyes again and he felt himself smile just a little bit. Despite keeping it hidden for all those years, he suddenly felt a need to share the memory that returned to his mind, to tell someone. And he trusted Jizelle. She was a dear friend.

“Do you want to hear a bedtime story, Jizelle?”

She gave him a gentle smile and nodded in silent response to his inquiry.

He sat down on the edge of the bed, near her, and took her hand in both of his.

“There was a young prince once, who-”

“It was you,” she interrupted with a laugh. “The prince was you, now go on.”

Owen let out a startled laugh.

“Right.” He absentmindedly drew lines on Jizelle’s palm, now open for his inspection. I glanced at her to see her eyes still gazing at him humorously. He shook his head before staring off at the wall, motionless. “Back when I was young and a bit reckless, I had asked my servants for an outfit. A commoner’s outfit. And, right away in the morning, before the sun was up, I left the stifling walls of the castle. I didn’t go back until the sun was high in the sky the next morning. It caused quite a ruckus around here. The Crown Prince being missing and all.”

“What happened?”

“I met someone.”

“Oh?” She grinned happily, watching Owen with renewed energy. “Do tell. I want to hear all about this woman.”

Owen’s head spun to look at her in disbelief.

“How’d you know it was a woman?”

She patted his hands with her free one, pursing her lips to keep from smiling and laughing too much at this intimate discussion.

“Topic of conversation. In the words I said, I reminded you of your love of a night. And I know you don’t fancy men.”

She made a good point. Or two.

Owen rolled his eyes and sighed dramatically.

“That – you’re too smart for your own good sometimes.”

“It’s how I stay alive. Mostly…”

Everything was silent for a moment after her mumbled words filled the room. Owen pursed his lips, wishing that the reason Jizelle wasn’t feeling well was just because of a stomachache instead of literal poison. He hated the constant danger, the constant threat of life these ladies were under. They were pressured by their families to have the ‘child of the king’ to either elevate the family status or to secure their place within the palace.

And it wasn’t just them under pressure. He was under pressure too, by the council. Nobody wanted to think about what might happen if he was unable to have children. Adoption? A relative with a kid?

He knew he had cousins in some of the prominent households, some more distant than others, but most of them had told him personally that they wanted nothing to do with the throne. They claimed the pressure upon their shoulders would be too great, or they would hate to be the cause of strife and a falling out with Owen should anything happen. Others merely told him of their shortcomings, how they wouldn’t be anywhere near prepared to handle the job.

Unlike some other royal families and relatives, none of them vied for the throne on which Owen sat. But all of them backed his power, stood on his side, offered aid when he needed it.

So, to bring any of them into the limelight and place them into a position they didn’t want? To have to raise a kid solely for their cousin?

Who was he to do such a thing?

How could he ask that of them?

Jizelle’s hand on his arm broke him from his thoughts.

“Keep talking. Who was she?”