“Mother, how do you know the King?”

Emeria watched him go, while listening to her daughter ask question after question about Owen.

“Why was he so weird?”

She had promised him mere moments ago that she’d tell Delilah that he was her father. That she was a child of the King of Felshare. She couldn’t wait it out. And, with all of her questions, maybe this answer would quell most of them. It would be the answer she was searching for through all of them.

“He asked to touch my head. Does he do that with other people too?”

Emeria couldn’t hold back a short laugh at that question.

No, he doesn’t.

She shook her head before stooping down to Delilah’s level, licking her lips in nervous anxiety. She wasn’t sure how her daughter would take this news. On one hand, it meant she was a princess, that she was a part of those history books she loved so much. On the other, would she assume the worst?

Maybe it would all be fine.

Delilah asks about her father a lot… maybe she’ll be happy with the news that she’s finally met him?

She took a deep breath. “Delilah.” She reached her hands up to her daughter’s face, pet her cheeks gently before resting them on her shoulders. Her face attempted a smile, but she knew she looked worried. Somehow, she just couldn’t help it. “That man… is your father.”

Delilah stared at her, her brows furrowed.

“My father?”

And then it happened. Her eyes widened in surprise, the confusion gone in a flash.

“Father-father, like from the stories?”

Emeria nodded quietly, swallowing hard against the knot in her throat.

In the next instant, Delilah was out of her arms, sprinting toward the horses as fast as she could. They hadn’t gotten far, and they weren’t going fast. She caught up to them easily, and when she was a few feet from them, she stopped. She called out to him, to the outlier in clothing and rank, louder than the hooves on the ground.

“Your Majesty!”

The horses stopped, all of them, at once, due to her cry. She had caught the attention of the knights as well as Owen, who whirled around quickly at the sound of her voice.

“Delilah?” he asked. “What is it?”

Emeria held her breath as she watched the exchange, slowly catching up to her daughter, while remaining a short distance away. She wouldn’t interfere on this moment.

Delilah and Owen stared at each other in silence for a short while.

“Father,” she called him, her voice hopeful. Emeria didn’t need to see her face to know how she’d taken the news. Delilah’s voice called out again in question, taking all but two within earshot by surprise. “You’re my father?”

Owen nodded in response to Delilah’s question. Part of him hated that he had to leave so soon after her finding out.

She hadn’t wasted any time in telling her. I’m relieved… in more ways than one. Even if it now makes it sadder for me to leave.

“I am.”

Even he could feel the shock from his knights, from all of those accompanying him. It wasn’t something they could’ve predicted. Their King recognizing a commoner woman in a small town, who has a child, and then proceeds to claim that child as his own, without any tangible proof.

But surely, anyone who spotted her red hair and his, anyone who saw the similarities between them, would see and know that there were blood ties between them.

Saph had come running up, panting a little, stopping a short distance behind Delilah. She wasn’t interfering in any manner. But there was a conflicted expression on her face – that much he could tell from this distance.

“Can I see you again?” Delilah pleaded. Her eyes were wide and shining.

He smiled at her and gave her another nod.

“I’ll come back through here in roughly four days. We’ll see each other then, okay?”

She nodded, the pleading expression replaced with happy anticipation.

“Okay!”

And then he had to go.

“Farewell… Father,” he heard Delilah say quietly as he stirred his horse into action. This time, he couldn’t help himself and gazed back at her, at them, at both of them.

He watched her walk up behind their daughter, a hand resting on her shoulder before it smoothed down her hair. She pulled Delilah close, in a hug from behind as they continued to watch him leave. They spoke to each other, in words he couldn’t hear. There was some laughter…

And then they were too far for him to see clearly. He faced forward on the saddle again, his mind conflicted.

When he came back through in a week, how would he possibly be able to say goodbye again? How could he return to the palace without them? On the contrary, how could he possibly dare to bring them there, right into Ariana’s playground?

But, given everything Ariana could do… their village was safe, but for how long? How long until someone let it slip that they existed? Such a small place, with limited security measures, without knights to guard them… it would be far more dangerous than the palace. He couldn’t get here easily, not quickly, if they needed help. Nobody could if they were coming from the capital.

And if he gave them guards… how could he be sure they were loyal to only him and couldn’t be bribed by any amount of money? How could he send anyone without giving up some of the safety of those he was protecting within the palace?

There was risk on both sides.

But he couldn’t make the choice for them.

When he came back through, he’d be transparent about the risks, all of them, and then let her decide the path their daughter would take. Of course, Delilah would have a say in the decision as well.

Emeria stood behind Delilah, a hand on her head smoothing down her hair while pulling her closer. She sighed.

The fated meeting of daughter and father…

She knew things would only change from here on out. Now that others knew she existed, that the knights saw and heard at least some parts of the conversations that were held, it was bound to happen.

Delilah peeked up at her as she watched them leave. Owen was looking back this time, and though it brought a faint smile to her lips, it also was saddening to see him disappear again. Though, she supposed, she’d been the one to disappear first.

This must’ve been how he felt.

“Mother… Am I really a princess?” Delilah asked her, eyes wide.

She couldn’t help the small chuckle that escaped. She pat her daughter’s hair more as she found the words to respond to such a question.

 “You know you’ve always been my princess…” She told her. And of course, it was the truth. As Emeria had known the whole truth from the start. But it was more than that. Delilah was so precious to her. “In the eyes of this kingdom, though, you would also be their princess, so yes, you are.”

Impossibly, Delilah’s eyes widened to an even greater degree, her face serious.

“Are we going to live in a castle?”

Emeria tilted her head. Of course, she thought, there were follow-up questions. She feared the questions she couldn’t answer might never end. For a moment, she wasn’t sure how to respond. She couldn’t say for sure either way, even if her daughter looked absolutely delighted at the idea of it.

“You’ll have to ask your father the next time you see him. It’s his choice, since he’s the king, he’s one of the only ones that outrank you.”

“Okay! I’ll ask him!” Delilah smiled. “Don’t worry, Mother! I’ll convince him! You won’t have to work as hard if we live in the castle! And we can have cheesecake again too, right?” And then she bounded back toward home, tugging on her mother’s arm. “You really liked the cheesecake! I bet they make it at the castle!”

Emeria followed along, exasperated, as Delilah continued to throw out questions about the royal family, her father, and everything else that she could think of. She tried to answer to the best of her ability, but it had been so long since she’d been in the capital that she couldn’t answer it all.