Today, Emeria had brought Delilah with her to the market. As they came to the house they’d been at just days before, they noticed Arnold helping his father with a few buckets of apples. Since his father still wore the sling, he couldn’t help much in carrying them. Emeria shooed Delilah off to go help them, taking the second basket from her daughter’s hands. She told her to stick with them as they went to the market and see if they needed more help. Delilah nodded enthusiastically before racing over to help pick up a bucket with ease. They exchanged words and then the father nodded gratefully to Emeria, who nodded back with a smile.

They all headed to the market together, as a small cluster. Once they were there and rid of their produce, Emeria let Delilah stay with Arnold and his father to pick more apples and play. She walked home alone, basket in hand, vowing that today she would fix the door since she had the time.

As she leisurely strode down along the side of the road, she heard the horses.

Horses… aren’t easy to come by in these parts, unless they’re work horses. Or travelers.

Discretely, as the sounds of hooves grew louder, she feigned tucking loose hair behind her ear in order to look back. She pretended not to jump or flinch at the sight of several knights in uniform riding horses. Knights, that wore palace uniforms.

If they’re here… then he…

She held herself steady, not giving more than a slight glance of interest their way, as they rode past slowly.

Too slowly, she thought miserably.

She sighed inwardly, feeling at least one set of eyes on her. Nervous at being seen, she gripped the basket in one hand and then let her other arm rest lightly across her backside, parallel to the ground. It was habit, but it made her feel a bit safer. Protected.

But how long would that protection last, she wondered, glancing up to see the backs of the knights…

And him.

It didn’t take much to recognize him, given that his outfit was slightly different… and that his hair was just as unruly as it had been back then.

Still red. Still fluffy and adorable. I wonder if it’s still as soft, if I could run my hands through it–

She cut that thought off as fast as she could and resumed walking with her gaze shifted to the gravel beneath her feet.

Owen was still gazing about, at the houses, the people. Some had greeted him with waves and smiles, with bows and excited expressions. It made him smile back, just as enthusiastically.

As they passed by the market and headed toward the edge of town, he saw a woman walking along the side of the road. There was something about her that caught his eye. Maybe it was her seeming disinterest in them, or maybe it was how she held herself. He wasn’t sure what it was, but he watched her quietly for a while. He watched her arm come to rest behind her lower back habitually and with ease.

There was a bit of familiarity in that gesture. He still couldn’t place it. He glanced once at her face, at her downcast eyes as they passed her and moved along.

He didn’t look back any longer and just trotted along for another ten seconds.

It was then that he suddenly found himself recalling her laugh. Her smile. And that nervous gesture that she had done several times that day. The way her hand balled into a fist as she held her arm behind herself.

Arm behind her back…

He tugged on the reins almost involuntarily as his top half spun around in the saddle. It was all in order to look back at her. To know. To confirm it was her. A mixture of disbelief and soaring excitement and hope took over him.

But there was only one true way to check that.

Faces could change as years passed by.

Bodies could change in less than a year.

But nobody knew the names ringing in his head.

Nobody but the woman herself.

He turned his horse around, hearing his knights exclaim a number or things, asking him what was wrong. Ignoring them, he clicked his tongue and raced his horse back her way. His mind spun. He needed to confirm the truth, whether it was yes or no.

It couldn’t be. It really couldn’t be, after all this time? It couldn’t–

But then he got a better look.

He stopped the horse and got down. He took a few hesitant steps her way. There was still enough distance and space between them, but she stopped, staring at his boots warily.

As her eyes drifted up, he called out to her, hesitantly and more than a little unsure.

“…Saph?”

She flinched, her eyes snapping up to his, wide.

Her face, he thought, hadn’t changed much.

She was still just as beautiful as she was that day.

Delilah scaled the apple tree with no issue, much to the delight of both Arnold and Anita, her friends. Of course, it was just to reach the remaining apples, oh so high up, but she felt proud of herself for such a feat. Not to mention, the view was great.

I can see so far. It’s beautiful.

And then the horses went past. She recognized the design on the uniform from one of her books. It was the one slightly different than the regular knight uniform. This one meant they were from the royal palace.

Royal palace knights… why would they be here?

Delilah knew the castle was far away, but she also knew that they usually accompanied the royal family on trips. And then she spotted the lone person who stood out by wearing something else. Of course, it was the same color, but it looked fancier, in a simple way.

He must be the one they’re escorting.

After a moment of watching them, she spotted her mother along the road. Curious, she kept watching until they passed her. But then something strange happened. The one being protected and escorted turned back.

They stopped near her mother, talking to her.

Delilah scrambled down from the tree. She said hurried farewells to Anita and Arnold before racing down the road toward her mother.

Something odd was going on. How did they know her mother?

She was frozen in place. All he’d said was the name he’d kept bottled up for so long. And she’d reacted to it.

So, he stared at her in wonder, it is you.

Saph looked him over, eyes flicking over to the knights that remained nearby, one already taking the reins of his horse for him.

And then she curtsied carefully.

“Your Majesty.”

“It’s you.” It was the only words he could bring himself to say after hearing her voice again. It really was her. He knew that voice even if it had been forever since he’d heard it.

For a moment, he wondered what she might think of him, learning that he wasn’t who he claimed when they met all that time ago. That he wasn’t just an ordinary man. Would it push them apart even further? Would she just feel obligated to speak to him now, even if she didn’t want to?

Some part of him deflated at those thoughts, but he gave her a small smile anyway, to cover it up.

“It’s a nice surprise to see you.”

“Yes. You as well.”

And then her gaze fell from his. His heart sunk with it. He reached a hand up without realizing as he moved closer to her, his fingertips feeling the warmth of her chin. Though he couldn’t see it, the knights behind him were stunned, a few with their mouths agape in shock. None of them had ever seen him this gently affectionate before – not with the queen or the others. They watched this interaction with wonder and surprise. It seemed so natural between them.

Owen allowed his thumb to brush gently at the soft spot between her chin and bottom lip. He watched its path for only some quiet seconds before his gaze caught hers again. She was staring at him.

“What is it?” he whispered, his voice trembling. “Is it my station?”

She stared back at him, not in surprise. Was it sadness he saw there? Concern?

“Not exactly, Owe–”

“Mother!”

The shout came from behind her, surprising them both. Even within that surprise, he’d taken note that she’d been about to say his name, not his title. His name. And not the one he’d given her that day. Maybe she wasn’t as clueless about this all as he’d originally thought.

Maybe it truly was his position in society that had kept her away…

Before his thoughts could get beyond that, a young girl came up next to her, a frown on her face when she spotted Owen’s hand, hovering from where it had been, touching her chin. The girl had bright red hair and piercing green eyes.

He dropped his hand back to his side, almost feeling like he was being scolded by this little girl who couldn’t have been much older than nine or ten years old.

How odd, he thought, maybe it’s because of her eyes. They’re like…

He looked back at Saph.

Like hers.

“Who are you, exactly?”