Iona waited in an empty ring for the fourth morning in a row, hoping Leo would show to no avail. At first, she was relieved to be alone, sorting through all her thoughts and emotions after the night of the ball. The kiss replayed in her head on a loop, interrupted only by the image of Leo knocking Desmond out cold. But as the shock of what had happened wore off, Iona was left with a vacant feeling that settled in its place. Not even a week had passed, but if she was willing to be honest with herself, she really missed Leo. Every meal, he managed to finish before she arrived in the dining room. Any time they were in the same hallway, he immediately turned down another corridor. It was clear he was avoiding her, but it couldn’t last. It was his fault, for fuck’s sake, that she even felt like talking through what happened rather than just sweeping it under the rug as she usually preferred.

Over the last few months, Leo had pulled her out of the isolation in which she had long dwelled; while her first inclination was to write off what happened as a mistake and go back to her solitude, she had to try to make things right. She had feelings for Leo. And if she couldn’t shake those feelings, then she had to confront them, which meant hunting down Leo, whether he liked it or not. Iona resolved to find the Prince after training, which went poorly since she was so distracted. She returned to the palace, cleaned up, and started her search. She began with the lower chambers, making her way up to the main floor, winding through each hallway. After an hour or so, Iona had cleared the entire manor to no avail. Next up: the stables.

Lo and behold, there was Leo, preparing for a ride with Corso. A ride on which she would have normally been invited. Stomping down the pathway from the gates, Iona shouted, “So what, you’re just going to avoid me forever now?” Leo didn’t spare a look at her as he finished pulling on Corso’s saddle and reins and herded him out of his stall. There was nothing that incensed Iona more than being ignored. She made it to the stable entrance and continued, “I know you can hear me. Where have you been?”

“The ball is over,” Leo turned to her, “We have no reason to talk anymore.”

“No reason to-” Iona stumbled over her words in frustration, “No reason?! You kissed me four days ago out of nowhere,” she shot back in a hushed tone, in case anyone was eavesdropping.

Leo looked nothing short of offended, “Out of nowhere? Really, Iona, are you that dense?”

“Oh, now I’m dense?!”

“I don’t want to talk about this.” Leo tried stepping past her, but Iona moved into his path.

“Well, too bad, because we are!” she demanded.

Leo’s anger began to build; Iona could see it in his eyes. “You left with Desmond.”

“It just happened,” she said, not really knowing how to defend herself.

“It just happened? You remember that he was courting other women all night, snaking his way around the room and completely ignoring you, right?” he chastised.

“Yeah, I remember, thanks.”

“And you just left the ball with him? With that fucking lowlife?”

“Why do you even care?!” she baited. This conversation was supposed to be about the two of them, not about Desmond, but she couldn’t help herself.

Leo’s expression turned hard and cold, “I thought you were better than that.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Iona asked, the sting from his comment pushing her back a step. Leo stood silent. “I didn’t come here to talk about Desmond,” she muttered, driving her foot into the dirt underneath her.

“Then what did you come here to talk about, Commander?” Leo’s tone bit into her so sharply, he could have drawn blood. Iona’s mind, which had been so full of everything she wanted to say to him that it was bursting at the seams, went blank. She swallowed and cleared her throat, willing something to come out.

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“I don’t know why I even bother,” Leo hissed, turning from her, and hoisting himself onto Corso’s saddle. Iona didn’t try to stop him this time. Defeated, she closed her eyes and waited until the stallion had galloped away before she turned back to the palace. If anyone greeted her or called her name, Iona hadn’t noticed as she hurried back to her bedroom. The last thing she needed was for anyone to see her upset like this. She slammed her door shut, and leaned back against it as tears rolled down her cheeks. The distinctive smell of moon drops filled her nose. Since Leo had brought them for her, Iona drank in their sweet scent every day with pleasure. Even the morning after the ball, they gave her a small sense of reassurance that things would be okay. But that sense had now dissolved, and the smell turned acidic; she crossed to her desk, pulled the flowers out of their vase, and slung them into the hearth.

She fought off a twinge of regret, watching as last night’s lingering embers flared and consumed the moon drops bit by bit. Iona knew pain, she knew hurt and despair in the deepest of ways, but whatever sinking feeling that settled in her now was unfamiliar. She hated it. This is what happens when you let yourself get distracted, she thought. She failed at her meager attempt to make amends; now, the best option was to lock this away, and get back to her routine, rather than let it fester. Iona pivoted from the fireplace, and changed back into training clothes to head to the ring for a few more hours. Fresh air, sweat, and focus. That’s all she needed. Like always.

Sure, sit ups were easier to do quickly with someone holding her feet against the canvas. Sparring was more productive with a partner. Training was more enjoyable with Leo. I don’t need him here, I’ve never needed him here, Iona told herself. A flicker of doubt chased the thought, but she pushed the feeling into that box at the back of her mind before it could take hold. A few hours of nonstop movement later, and she could feel her muscles giving up; she’d worked herself to exhaustion. She dropped to the middle of the canvas, arms hung over her knees, shoulders slumped. The sky was full of deep gray clouds, threatening to unleash a downpour at any moment. A warning came first in the form of a heavy mist. The chilly water collected on Iona’s face, as she stared back up at the sky. Whatever all this was causing her mind to be as muddled as the clouds above her, she had to be clear of it.

The rebuilds were all but finished, per her last missive from Espo, and there had been little to no activity regarding the hostiles. Theron had requested she stay at the palace until Heston was engaged, if not longer. Tempted as she was to pack and leave, Iona couldn’t stand the idea of being away when the King passed, and she didn’t dare give Leo reason to think she ran off because of him. As if he had some sort of hold on her.

But what if he does? Why is that such a bad thing? The questions managed to climb up the walls in Iona’s mind despite her best effort to lock them out. How badly she wished to talk to Elia. Except, she thought, Elia would be overjoyed at this development. So how much help would she really be? What about mom? Iona tried to muster an image of Asa in her head. They were sitting together on her couch, rain pouring outside the window, so loud it made it hard to hear clearly. Okay, mom, help me out here.

I’m not sure I understand the issue, sweetheart, Asa replied, her voice murky. Iona envisioned herself jumping up off the couch and pacing the room. The issue is that…Leo’s ignoring me. Ugh, why must he be so sensitive? We planned this whole ball together, we’ve been training every day together, and it wasn’t half as bad as I thought it would be. It’s actually been…really great. And now, he’s throwing that all away. Her heart sank a bit at the words. All over what? A kiss?

Distant yet soothing, Asa’s reply flooded her mind, Is that what this is about? You’re upset he kissed you? The question was luring her towards the truth, and stubborn as she may be, Iona could envision something floating just outside of her reach- a distinct sense of relief she was desperate to grab. She resigned to it with honesty. I’m upset at myself for how I reacted. Upset I was too cowardly to admit to him how I feel. I’m worried I’ve ruined any chance at it happening again. Iona looked up from her fidgeting hands to her mother, the mirage moving towards her until she was wrapped up in her embrace, Love is a scary thing, isn’t it, sweetheart?

A strong gust slammed open the window, letting in a deluge of rain and howling wind. Iona sprinted to shut it, but couldn’t manage to fight the strength of the storm, as she heard Asa’s call from behind her, Iona! Iona! Iona turned back to her mom, but she had disappeared. The cottage around her was fading…

“Iona! Iona! WAKE UP!”