A mirror stands before Christopher. He watches his reflection with interest and disgust. Frowning, he smoothes out tiny creases in his clothing only he can see. To him, he must maintain his public perception and small details like these count in his eyes.

A suit sticks to him like a second skin. It’s similar in style to military garb. White is the primary color. Ever since discovering his light gift, the empty tint has transfixed him and his sense of style. Etching it are layers of gold. Gold is both a sign of royalty and reverence to the Voiced, whose eyes tint gold when they reach enlightenment from the Gods. Unusually for him, there’s also red lined in his outfit. A romantic color; it is why it was chosen.

The trusty sword Christopher always carries flaps gently at his side. He adjusts his body multiple times in the mirror. Each time, his face grows taut. He frowns deeper, ultimately giving up on the action.

“This will not do,” the prince speaks. “I just can’t get it right today.” He sighs. “I’ll have to live with it.” Christopher walks back to the mirror after pacing the room. He plays with his hair. The blonde tufts sitting atop his head flop instantly back into place as if he hadn’t disturbed them in the slightest. “Is this too much?” he asks himself, picking at the threads adorning his body. “I’m overthinking things.”

The prince moves towards his bed. He sits at the edge. His head smacks into his palm. He groans. The discontented noise resonates like a whisper in his ears.

Christopher is naturally nervous. On the surface, he’s calm, poised. Underneath, he is but another individual struggling with his position in the world.

As the eleventh and final son of the current king, his place in royalty is honorary at best. Still, Christopher makes a good showing. He’s gallant, good with a sword, an impressive speaker, and overall a charming person. Everyone who meets him enjoys his company.

Little do they know that every action he makes fills him with deep, unending doubt.

This engagement has not helped his internal battles.

Christopher could have renounced his intent for marriage when Gai Regal interfered. He had every right to do so. Gai embarrassed him in public, making a mockery of the ordeal. Lady Scarlet even admitted she had not decided between the two of them. To anyone else, it’d be an insult.

To Christopher, it was a challenge. For years, he’s carefully maintained his ‘brand.’ Charity events. Sword practice. Gift training. Political functions. Speeches. Too many things. Yet, he is but the eleventh son. Upon hearing Scarlet’s words, that he was not chosen singularly, he felt fully committed in his soul to making Lady Scarlet fall for him.

Besides, the King wanted Christopher to marry into the Embers family. It was the entire reason Prince Christopher was sent to Castle Grey.

For years, Zalevet was wholly dependent on Brosnock for food. If a war of attrition were to occur and the food cut off, the country would collapse. Fortunately, over the past two decades, Baron Embers has successfully turned a once-thought dead-end project into the upcoming agricultural backbone of the country. Current projections from the baron hypothesize that the nation will be fully food independent within the next two-to-three decades.

When news that Baron Embers’ daughter were to be engaged in a bachelor event, the King sent Christopher. Christopher obliged, knowing how important relations with the baron would be in the future. Backing down at this point would be seen as nothing but failure.

Christopher looks up at the ceiling. “At least she is beautiful. I’ve seen only a few women with her figure, even if she is short. Her personality is…different though.” Christopher stands, clasping his hands together loudly. “Enough waiting.” His hands smooth out the tiny creases in his outfit.

Thoughts bubble inside Christopher’s head as he exits his room. With a sigh, he silences the voices in his mind until all that’s left is the task for the day: getting to know Lady Scarlet. Is she who she seems to be? Or will a day with her reveal her true personality?

Either way, they shall be married. That will not change, barring some unforeseen circumstances.

•

Minutes later, Christopher arrives at the courtyard. A maid had sent word this was to be their meeting spot.

But it appears he has arrived later than his counterpart.

Lady Scarlet stands in the middle of the courtyard with two other women. One is dressed like a maid. She is older than the woman beside her. The other is younger; she appears to be in casual black attire, but a sword at her hip betrays the second girl as a castle guard of some sort.

“Please, be on your best behavior, my lady,” pleads the maid.

“I will! You don’t need to worry about me.” Lady Scarlet jabs a finger at her chest. It’s a childish action, but when she does it, it’s kind of endearing.

“I’ll be with her, so there shouldn’t be any worries,” says the guard woman.

“No, you won’t, Remi,” Lady Scarlet reacts instantly.

“What?” The guard, Remi, blinks away at the sudden disapproval of her assertion.

“It’s teeeechnially a date, so it’d be weird to have you tag along,” replies Lady Scarlet. “As much as I may want you there.”

“You won’t see me. I’ll shadow you from a distance.”

Lady Scarlet waves her hands defiantly. “Don’t do that either.”

“But—”

“It’ll be fiiiine! If anything happens, I can more than take care of myself,” Lady Scarlet expresses with surreal ease. “Fewer people is better. The prince won’t feel comfortable, and I’ll feel awkward otherwise. Plus, it’ll give me the opportunity to get to know his personality properly.”

Christopher finds it fascinating how casually they’re talking about tailing him. It makes sense, he realizes, that they’d want to keep eyes on Lady Scarlet. Still, it shows there’s distrust for him even with the strides he’s made to present himself as a reasonable, calm man. He is, in fact, that, but it mildly irks him that they might think otherwise.

The guard, Remi, resigns herself to her charge’s wishes. “If you say so. It’d be better if I killed the prince than you if something happened. Then only I’d be executed.”

Christopher blinks at the bluntness of the words.

“No one has to die. It’s not like he’s the type of person who’d take advantage of a girl when she’s all alone. At least, I don’t think he is. Besides, we’ve had enough issues with the Astra family. I doubt that’ll happen a second time,” says Lady Scarlet. She winks at Remi for some reason.

“I don’t like hearing all of this,” mutters the older maid.

“I’m sorry,” apologizes Lady Scarlet. “We’ll stop. Everything will be okay. Christopher seems like a kind person. He wouldn’t be as respected as he is if he were a scumbag.”

“Then I leave everything in your hands,” relents Remi.

Christopher, sensing his opportunity, moves from his hiding spot. As casual as can be, he enters the courtyard. No one is the wiser as to how long he’s been there. Instead, with the cheery smile that’s usually supplanted upon his features, Christopher enters the conversation.

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything too exciting,” says Christopher as he introduces himself to the crowd.

“Not at all,” Christopher hears the elder maid mutter to herself.

“Ah, you made it. I’m glad!” Lady Scarlet greets him cheerily. She curtsies slightly with the hem of her outfit.

Christopher is stunned by her appearance. Breathtaking is a cliche word, but it is apt under the current circumstances.

A simple dress adorns her body as if made by the Gods themselves for her to wear. It is green, an emerald shade that matches her eyes. The hem goes just from above her knees, covering her all the way up to her neck. Even so, the fabric fits her form so well it leaves little to the imagination. Her bare arms are warmed by sunlight from the shoulders to her fingers. A white floral pattern weaves its way from her right across the middle of her torso down past her left side. It’s like a twirling, white-flowered vine wrapping around a post. Green flats comfortably fit her feet to seal the deal on the attire.

The outfit, paired with her gentle smile and hair like autumn trees, makes Christopher’s heart skip a beat, entrancing him with a momentary pulse of lust.

“Where are my manners?” Lady Scarlet gestures to those around her. She points to the maid first. “This is Sonya. She’s my personal maid who’s taken care of me since I was a baby. You could almost call her my second mother.”

At that, Sonya’s face softens.

“Next to her is Remi. She runs a segment of, well, I can’t say. She’s brilliant. And she may not look it, but she’s scary when she’s angry.” The last sentence is said more like a whisper.

“That’s the introduction I get to his highness?” mutters Remi.

Christopher eases them with a smile. “Oh, no need for that. Christopher is fine.”

“Christopher it is then,” says Lady Scarlet immediately. “Whew! That feels better. I hate all these titles. They’re so needlessly pretentious.”

“Oh?” Christopher’s smile falters for a fraction of a second. “Then calling you Lady Scarlet annoys you?”

“Yes,” says all three women in unison.

Christopher flinches. “Scarlet it is then.”

“Thank you,” accepts Scarlet. “Shall we go then?”

“Of course.”

Remi narrowly eyes Christopher. He notices this but says nothing.

“I will see you all later,” Scarlet says to her staff and, well, friends.

“Do be careful,” says Sonya.

“Have fun,” drones Remi.

Scarlet walks ahead while Christopher awkwardly follows from behind. They exit the courtyard. Some distance away, Scarlet turns to him.

“What’s the plan for today?” Scarlet asks. There’s a light in her eyes. It stuns Christopher for a moment.

“Oh, uh,” Christopher stumbles. “I…don’t think I’m half-assed, okay?”

Scarlet giggles.

“What?” Christopher raises an eyebrow. Worry tickles his shoulders.

“I’ve never heard you curse before. It sounds weird coming from your mouth. ‘Half-assed.’” Scarlet makes air quotes with her fingers. “Not your style, dude.”

“Dude?”

“Um, it’s a phrase used between friends! Dude! Try it!”

“Try it?”

“Yeah! Say something like, ‘Hey dude!’ or ‘What’s up, dude?’ Heh, heh…” Scarlet chuckles awkwardly. Her eyes dart around as if she’s in trouble.

“Hello, dude?”

Scarlet frowns. “Ah, not like that.”

“I don’t know if I like that word,” Christopher decides with an uncomfortable expression.

“Yeah, it doesn’t work for you.” Scarlet moves closer to examine him. “You’re better off saying things like ‘my lady’ and ‘gladly.’ It suits your features.”

Christopher recoils slightly. Scarlet is close. Too close for him at the moment. It makes him nervous. With a gentle cough, he steps back. The cough turns into a spit of laughter.

“Hmm?” Scarlet cocks her head to the side.

“If that is your wish, my lady.” Christopher awkwardly bows, at least for the situation. His form is beautiful regardless. “I will gladly say such things.”

Scarlet puts her hand to her face. She stifles a laugh.

“Too much?”

“No, it’s fine!” Scarlet grins. Her hands rest behind her back as she leans forward slightly. Her eyes close and a gentle smile plays on her lips. “It’s nice to see the real you that’s been hidden behind all the formalities. A little sarcastic. Kind of funny. It is a nice surprise.”

Christopher stares for a moment.

Scarlet’s eyes open. She blinks a few times. “Did I say something wrong?”

Nervously, Christopher shakes his head. “Not at all. Sorry.” He scratches his chin with one finger. His eyes advert upwards.

“You’re sorry? Apologizing when you haven’t done anything wrong? Weeeeeeird!” Scarlet waves a hand in front of her face.

“I’m not weird,” Christopher mutters.

“So, back on topic, what did you have planned for today?”

“Hmmm?”

“For our date, I suppose.” Scarlet struggles to say ‘date.’ She makes a face but muscles through it.

Christopher looks away again. “It’s not really a date per se, but I was hoping you could show me around the castle.”

“Hmmm? Haven’t you already been given the tour before?” Scarlet cocks her head to the side in confusion. “I’m assuming that’s what they did the first morning you were here.”

“They did,” admits Christopher. “I’d rather you did so as well.”

Scarlet raises an eyebrow.

“Um…cause then…I’ll know more about you.”

“How so?”

“If you show me the parts of your home that you care about and why they matter, I’ll learn more about you as a person,” Christopher calculates.

“Oh, that’s smart!” Scarlet slams her fist into her open hand as if having a eureka moment. “Good idea!”

Christopher awkwardly smiles with his eyes closed.

“That’s only a one-way street, though,” Scarlet remarks.

“Hm?”

“I won’t learn anything about you. Kind of one-sided, don’t you think?”

“I suppose so,” grants Christopher. He can feel his idea dying.

“Ah! How about you answer every question I ask as I bring you around? Seems fair, right? You get to see the place that’s made me who I am.” She smirks while saying that. “I get information from you by probing with fun little questions. How does that sound?”

Christopher, relieved, accepts this proposal. “It appears we have our day planned.”

“Then shall we go to the kitchen?”

“The kitchen? Why?” Christopher makes a face as if it’s the stupidest idea in the world.

“I’m what the cooking world calls a culinary genius.” Scarlet winks.

•

The pair moves through stone hallways aligned with art and rugs. Light vents through slits within the cobblestone, illuminating the dark interior. The smell of burning wood still lingers in the air from the night as charred torches line alcoves on walls.

“You’re the youngest in your family, correct?” Scarlet asks Christopher.

Christopher clears his throat. “Um, yes. I’m the youngest son of the King if that’s what you mean.”

Scarlet nods. “It is. Interesting.” She acts as if that isn’t new information. In fact, Christopher knows it isn’t. They’ve already talked about this before at the ball.

Their movement through the hall continues.

“Was that your only question?” ponders Christopher as a line of unease tickles his neck.

“For now. Unless you want to answer a brainteaser.”

“Brainteaser?”

“A question with either two answers meant to show some inner turmoil within your consciousness. It’s more of a psychological test, I suppose,” reveals Scarlet.

In Christopher’s mind, he notes how Scarlet’s assessment of their language is at a much higher level than most people he has spoken with. It’s like she’s a scholar. Then, at other times, her language is crass like a commoner. It confuses the prince.

“Want to hear the question?”

“Certainly.”

“Say there’s an ability that can bring you from one place to another anywhere in this world in an instant,” begins Scarlet.

“That would be amazing.”

“Exactly! But there’s a catch.” Scarlet holds up a hand. It flutters about as she speaks. “Every time you use the ability, your entire body is destroyed and rebuilt at a different location. It essentially kills you. However, the version of you that is placed elsewhere retains the original you’s thoughts, feelings, and memories, so there is no difference. You wouldn’t be able to tell at all that you died. Would you want this ability?”

“No,” Christopher denies immediately.

“Hmmm.” Scarlet peeks at the prince. “Thought so.”

“And you?”

“No, probably not either. I’d be too afraid.”

“For your soul?”

“Yeah, I suppose that’s why the question is the way it is.”

“Meaning?”

“It’s supposed to show whether you’re religious or not, in a sense,” explains Scarlet. “If you take the ability and still use it, it attests that you have no view of an afterlife nor a soul. That this is our one life, and existence is only our thoughts and feeling placed upon the world. If you don’t want the ability, it shows some form of religious conviction. An apprehension of a soul and an afterlife, if you will. If the body dies, where does the soul go? That’s the question that usually comes up with most people. Not a lot choose to use the ability even if it means they won’t realize that they died.”

“Where did you find such a question?” Christopher asks. His face is full of worry more than anything.

“I don’t remember if I’m being honest,” replies Scarlet. “Ah, there’s the kitchen. Let’s go.”

The pair enters a separate room in the castle. Large countertops. Ingredients hanging on racks. Pots. Pans. A large fire in the back of the room. Scents of spices and flavors tickle the nose. Multiple people rushing about preparing meals for the day.

Yes, a kitchen, but Christopher has never been in one before. The amount of effort going into food preparation, even for simple dishes, amazes him. Such a large team’s behind it. The carefulness and the preparation. It’s a lot to take in.

“Seems like you’re getting it a little,” Scarlet notices as she peers at Christopher’s face. She turns away. “Chef Rumsley! I’ve brought a guest who’s just dyyyyyying to try out some stuff!”

“A guest?” Chef Rumsley is positioned in front of a large stew pot by the fire. His head perks up. “And who might that be?” He turns around. As soon as his eyes meet Prince Christopher’s, he shudders. “The Prince!”

Everyone in the kitchen stops working. The staff stares. Their mouths hang agape. Food is momentarily unmanaged. The only sound is the crackling of fire as the absent noises of chopping steel reside in this shocking moment.

Chef Rumsley bows.

The staff follows suit.

Christopher smiles awkwardly.

Scarlet immediately waves off the gestures. “Ah, you don’t need to do that crap.”

The room freezes again.

Chef Rumsley is startled. “My lady?!”

“Prince Christopher wishes to be treated like everyone else.” Scarlet looks over to Christopher. She appears to frown for a moment before shaking her head. A sly smile adorns her lips. She hugs Christopher’s arm to her body. “We might be engaged soon.” The sentence sounds shaky coming out of her mouth. Her brow twitches. “Come now, just talk as if you would with only me in the room.”

The room is startled into further silence.

Christopher cannot read the minds of the chef and cooks in the room, but he imagines that they’re going through a stifling amount of inner turmoil. The prince recognizes this. To address a prince in a familial way must feel close to blasphemy.

For the prince, he figures it might be nice to hang his royal hat for a little while. It also doesn’t hurt that Scarlet is hanging tightly onto him, her breasts sandwiching his arm. Any complaints he might have to the treatment fades as he accepts the current circumstances.

“It’s quite alright. I don’t mind,” says Christopher to everyone in the room. “From what I know about Scarlet at this point, standing on ceremony won’t give me a full picture of her life. Please, act as you normally would.”

For the third time, the room stumbles into silence. The cooks talk to one another in hushed whispers. Chef Rumsley stares astutely between Scarlet and Christopher.

“Fine then.” Chef Rumsley beckons them over with the wave of his hand. “You’re here to check on that fermented plant juice, yes?”

Stolen novel; please report.

“Is it ready?!” Scarlet’s hands clap together. She beams. Christopher swears he sees her eyes sparkle. “If it is, then yes!”

“I think so. Don’t know quite what it tastes like yet,” admits the chef.

Scarlet races across the room. She drags Christopher along by the hem of his coat. He appears startled.

“She’s the same to everyone,” mutters one of the cooks to another.

“She’s always had that kind of personality,” the other whispers back. “Always in her own little world running ahead of everyone else.”

“It’s remarkable.”

“I think so.” Chef Rumsely walks Scarlet and Christopher over to a large glass container sitting on a nearby counter.

Christopher peers at the vial in amazement. A mesh of beans swirls in a liquid. The top looks like a pulpy brown mess, almost like mud. At the bottom, an amber liquid settles.

“SOY SAUCE! HAHAHA!” cries Scarlet with a mighty shout.

Everyone in the kitchen gawks at her, including the prince.

“Oh,” Scarlet blanches. “Sorry. I’ve been trying to figure this one out for a while.”

“Is that what you’re gonna call it?” Chef Rumsley crosses his arms over his chest. “You usually let me come up with the names.”

“Sorry, I got too ahead of myself.”

“It’s a fine name, though,” grants the chef. “Soy plants molded then fermented. The next step you said would be to strain it out into a separate bottle, correct?”

Scarlet nods.

Christopher turns to Scarlet in shock. “How do you know all of this?”

“She’s a genius blessed by the Gods,” Chef Rumsely informs the prince without missing a beat.

Christopher blinks. Looking at the chef, he knows the man believes those words. No one laughed as he said them, meaning no one in the kitchen disagrees with the sentiment. He’s seen moments of genius in her fighting, but intellectually, is she superior as well? An inventor? A chef? A swordsman? What else does she know? What can’t she do? Do the Gods really favor her?

What scares Christopher the most, looking back, is that he feels so much…younger than her. Like he’s wasted parts of his life while she’s skipped on ahead, consuming all the knowledge available in this world.

Has he ever felt like that before?

Moments later, Scarlet takes over one of the chef’s cooking stations. She pours her newly minted sauce into a medley of vegetables. The cooks around her watch in awe.

“Good. Makes vegetables not taste like crap. All that’s left is teriyaki sauce, and I’m good to go with my Asian food.” Christopher hears Scarlet mutter. “Got all my favorite Mexican foods. Tortillas and the spices were easy to figure out. All I need now is to experiment on how to make ice cream and tequila, then this place will be perfect on the food front.”

“Pardon?” Christopher feels a need to speak after hearing those strange words.

“Oh, nothing!” Scarlet glances at Christopher with a grin. “I was talking to myself. I tend to do that a lot.”

“It rarely makes sense,” Chef Rumsley adds over their shoulders. “But who can truly comprehend the mind of a true genius when they’re at work, eh?”

“R-right,” Christopher agrees uncomfortably.

Scarlet calls for ingredients. Each time she does, they’re brought before her without question. The crowd builds and some dishes are left unattended as Christopher watches this baron’s daughter take over and revolutionize the kitchen.

“Not what you expected?” Chef Rumsley leans into the prince’s ear.

Christopher continues to gaze at Scarlet. She’s so…unusual. It’s hard for him to imagine anyone else in royalty or nobility being so carefree. She does what she wants. Fights. Cooks. Laughs. Even in this prison he calls royalty; she’s the freest he’s ever seen.

“She’s remarkable,” Christopher whispers to himself as he watches Scarlet. “Who the hell are you?”

“Annnnnd that should do it!” Scarlet drains a bit more of the amber liquid into the pan. She measures with her eyes. When enough is poured in, she places the bottle to the side. She quickly melds the sauce into the veggies assortment of vegetables sautéed before her.

A few minutes go by.

Scarlet tastes her concoction.

Silence.

Tears run down her face.

Christopher’s face cinches with worry.

“It’s just as she imagined,” Chef Rumsley speaks.

“What do you mean?” says Christopher.

“She comes to me with these ideas. We try them repeatedly. When I finally get them right, she begins to cry as if it’s bringing back some lost memory stuck within her heart.” The chef grins. “She truly cares about the things she puts her time into. It’s amazing to see.”

“There’s not a lot of people like her.”

“Indeed.”

Scarlet wipes the corners of her eyes. She turns around, smiling, to face the group. “Sorry about that.” She looks to Chef Rumsley. “It’s perfect.” She bows a little. “Thank you.”

Christopher’s eyes widen. She bowed to the chef? Her? Nobility?

“Anyone want to try it?” Scarlet implores. She beckons her hand forth.

The cooks all walk over to taste it. Chef Rumsley cuts forward in line. He leaves Christopher behind to watch from a distance.

“Mmmm.” The chef tastes it. “Salty. It dilutes the flavor of the vegetables, converting it into more of a singular dish rather than allowing all the flavors of the vegetables to be brought out.” He tastes it some more. “Add a little honey and maybe a dash of white wine. Something on the spicier side. This could be served to anyone.”

“Damn, how come I didn’t think of that?” Scarlet curses to herself. “Honey and white wine. Add peppers. That’s almost Szechuan!”

“Szechuan? Are you naming my idea now?” chuckles the chef.

“No, no. Just talking to myself again.”

Everyone tries the dish. All admit it is good. From there, they talk about what items and dishes they can add the sauce to. Some try the amber liquid by itself. The conversation between the cooks is intriguing. It’s a level of brilliance Christopher wouldn’t have expected. New, innovative foods are being developed right before his eyes. All because of one woman. All because of Scarlet.

“Here!” Scarlet pops up before Christopher. She breaks him from his train of thought. In her hand is a little bowl with a fork. “Wanna try it?”

“Oh, sure,” Christopher responds. “I’d be happy to.”

Gingerly, Christopher accepts the bowl. He looks at the medley of peppers, onions, carrots, and cabbage. It is skewed by the dark amber liquid. Shrugging, he takes a bite.

“And?” Scarlet stares at the prince.

Christopher’s eyebrows raise upward in surprise. “It’s good!”

“Don’t act so surprised!”

“Sorry.” Christopher has another bite. “You’re kind of amazing.”

Scarlet stares for a second. She then cocks her head to the side. A gentle look plays upon her face. “That’s nice of you to say.”

•

With goodbyes from both Scarlet and Christopher, they exit the kitchen.

From there, they head to the library. Scarlet talks of her favorite books, to which Christopher responds in kind. They speak of war, of politics, of history. Scarlet knows a little too much about everything. It’s intimidating to the prince.

The pair eventually move outdoors to one of the many gardens. This one, in particular, is at the back of the property, far towards the surrounding wall covering the estate. Heavy trees and mossy grass line the area like spiritual soldiers guarding a forgotten sanctuary.

“I’m curious why you don’t have any guards with you,” says Scarlet randomly.

“They’re in the castle, but I find their presence jarring. They only surround me when I’m moving from one destination to another. Even that is annoying to me. Besides, I can handle myself given my abilities.”

“I know the feeling,” grants Scarlet. “If there’s ever a war, your light abilities automatically make you a boon.” She pauses. “Speaking of the war, got any insight on that front?” Scarlet invites Christopher. She struts at his side with her arms clasped behind her back.

“Not a lot of movement, fortunately. All four countries have been in a stalemate for the past twenty years,” says Christopher. “There hasn’t been any movement from Viorna. We’ve had some spats with Brosnock around border towns but nothing too serious. Agias is, of course, not going to do anything unless compelled to by the other countries.”

“So we still don’t have our Voiced yet?” Scarlet asks quietly.

“Unfortunately, no. If we do, word hasn’t reached me,” groans Christopher. “It seems the Gods truly have forgotten us.”

“Best to live life like there’s no tomorrow then.”

“Your father has done great work to clear our state-wide reliance on imported goods from other countries. Because of that, we’ve been able to keep our footing amongst the skirmishes that have cropped up over the borders these past few decades,” says Christopher analytically. His eyes seem to focus as he talks of politics. “Hopefully, our Voiced will appear soon. It has amazed our generals that war has not broken out already.

Scarlet softly chuckles. “That’s disheartening.”

“Sorry to bring down the mood.”

“Eh, I asked. I’m not that sad. It matches most of what I already know.”

Scarlet walks in front of Christopher, stopping in front of him. It forces the man to cease his steps as well.

“Hm?”

“You seem like a genuine person,” Scarlet tells Christopher suddenly.

“Thank you?”

“But coddled.” Scarlet raises an unwavering finger. “Your unintended sense of superiority towards commoners, whether you realize it or not, shows you have a sheltered life.”

“I—”

“However, you were willing to interact with people I consider my friends without much prompting. You eased into the situation well even though it was clear you were outside of your element,” continues Scarlet with little care for Christopher’s excuses. “It shows you have a good moral character. I respect that.”

“Thank you?”

“I assumed as much from our first conversation at the ball, but it’s nice to get it confirmed.” Scarlet shrugs her shoulders. “I’m glad you weren’t faking it. It’s easy to talk to you, and, most of all, I don’t hate you. Guess there are worse arranged marriages, huh?”

Christopher stares at the red-haired woman, stunned. She’s so blunt and vocal. There’s not a care in her heart about keeping such things inside. Her flustered personality from their first meeting is but a faint memory.

Scarlet’s eyes dart around. She doesn’t speak for a moment. Eventually, she leans forward. “Listen, I’m going to take you somewhere we’re not supposed to go. Since we’re less than two weeks away from potentially being engaged, I want to at least show some give from my end. I want to talk. A real talk. Away from these walls. Away from potentially prying eyes. Is that okay with you?”

Christopher hesitates. It’s clear to him that Scarlet is placing a surreal amount of trust in him. The shade of her character, the upbeat personification of carefree womanhood, dissipates to a more reserved, cautious version.

“A real talk. I’d like that,” acknowledges Christopher.

It’s true; Christopher would like to air out any unease between them. He’s grown quite fond of the girl and would like her to know she’s safe with him if that’s her concern. If not, he’d like to listen. Besides, his goal of getting close to the Embers family will be readily obtained through genuine feats such as these.

“Then you promise to keep this a secret?”

“Yes, Scarlet.”

“Good! Break that, and I’ll poke out your eyes,” the lady says without missing a beat.

Christopher smiles uncomfortably. “I believe you.”

“Good!” Scarlet begins walking to the nearby wall. “Follow me.”

Scarlet breaks through a tight gap between two trees. Christopher follows. On the other side, he sees a sizable eroded space within the cobblestone wall surrounding the property.

“Ah,” Christopher observes.

Scarlet squeezes through. She holds out her hand, waving Christopher forward. “Come on!” she calls out to him.

The two of them are soon surrounded by nature in its purest form. It isn’t artificially managed like the interior of the castle. No, this is the planet’s bounty untamed by the outside world.

Christopher nervously follows behind Scarlet. To him, the situation is as refreshing as it is uneasy.

Luckily, the prince has his sword. If anything happens, he’ll protect himself and Scarlet. Not that she needs protecting. Her gifts are powerful enough on their own. He should know. Christopher has light abilities as well. But what of a surprise attack? She’s unarmed in a dress. It’d be a chance for Christopher to be a hero. To impress her. It’d further build their trust.

The pair move deeper and deeper into the forest. They walk for a little over ten minutes. Christopher begins to grow concerned.

“It’s not much farther,” Scarlet says as if sensing Christopher’s unease.

“Right,” Christopher calls back. He does so in a way that hides his increasing nervousness.

The trees around them eventually space out entirely into a vast clearing.

Christopher looks around with bewilderment.

A small, clear pond sits near the middle of the territory. It looks cool and inviting. The surrounding space appears well-used. There are cuts in trees, shattered boulders, indented grasses, and signs of burns in some of the leaves.

Christopher deduces that Scarlet comes here to practice, well, anything she desires. With such a tranquil place, he cannot blame her. One could simply fall asleep in the grass amongst the sky.

“Are you ready?” Scarlet asks.

“Hmm?” Christopher blinks. “For what?”

Scarlet begins taking off her shoes. “To go in the water. It’ll ease the tension a little. Well, it will for me…”

“Oh.” Christopher suddenly feels a shock run up his spine.

A more indecent thought pops up in the prince’s head, a reality he had not considered. He should have expected her to be a little promiscuous with such a free-spirited personality if he’s reading the ‘room’ correctly. Now this situation makes sense. She’s been seducing him. The food. The conversations. The nature. Now this pond out in the middle of nowhere. It’s all romantic; he sees that now. She’s making a move on him.

Christopher panics. “What do I do?” he thinks. “This kind of thing has happened to me before. Many women have flung themselves at me, even though I’m barely eleventh in line to rule. Royalty is royalty in the end. It’s not like I haven’t shared the company of a woman, but I don’t make it a point to have sex with any random person.”

Scarlet takes off her shoes. She tosses them to the side. Her toes munch between the grass. “Ah, that feels much better!”

“Then again, it’s not like we’re complete strangers anymore. The odds are high that we’ll be married. I don’t see myself losing to Gai. He lacks the class that makes a true warrior. Scarlet must sense that as well. This ‘conversation’ was merely a pretext for this. Yes, Scarlet and I will get married. It’s nearly certain. What’s the harm in going through things before our marriage? We’re both adults. We can make our own decisions,” reasons Christopher. “I’ve been sent here to enter into the family. This is one of the perks, is it not? She’s beautiful. I should be grateful she—”

“Aren’t you going to sit down?” says Scarlet.

Christopher is pulled from his train of thought. He looks over to Scarlet. Her feet sit in the pool of water. The only clothes she removed were her shoes. Nothing more.

“Hm?” Christopher makes a confused noise.

“Sit with me.” Scarlet pats the grass beside her. “Let’s talk.”

“Ah,” thinks Christopher. “I…may have misread things. How foolish.” He shakes his head. “Was I really that eager? This girl is corrupting my mind. What a weak person I am.”

Christopher removes his shoes as well. “If that’s fine with you.” His hands roll up his pant legs.

Scarlet says nothing.

The two are soon relaxing their feet in the water.

“This is soooo nice!” squeals Scarlet. Her eyes close gently as she smiles up at the sky. The sun catches her face, reflecting it beautifully before Christopher.

The prince cannot help but stare. “I’ve lost. She got me.”

“Hey, can I ask you a question?” Scarlet abruptly turns to Christopher. For what feels like the hundredth time today, she breaks him from his thoughts.

Christopher slowly feels his guard beginning to fall. “Sure. Ask me anything.”

“Do you want to get married? Genuinely?” ponders Scarlet. Her tongue slides across her top lip in a seductively tantalizing way.

Christopher flinches. “What do you mean?”

Scarlet’s sparkly deposition fades into a darker tone. “Is it your dream in life to marry some baron’s daughter you only met a few days ago?”

“Um…”

“You know what my dream is, I think?” Scarlet casts out her hand as if releasing dust into the air. “To see the world. To fight for the innocent. To seek peace. Something along those lines. To live a life where I can make the lives of others better through my existence. It’ll give me the purpose I so greatly seek. Or I can at least find my purpose by doing those things, I feel.” Her eyes droop somewhat. “You think that’s still possible as the wife of a prince?”

Christopher grimaces. A trace of electricity dances between his eyes at the hidden meaning behind her words. “You don’t want to marry me.”

“I don’t want to marry anyone, no. That choice, unfortunately, is not left up to me. I’ve been allowed to study, to learn the sword, to partake of a Divine Treat. Why? Because my father thinks it’ll make me a more appealing bride.” Scarlet’s face twists into a sad smile. “Isn’t that wonderful? To have your whole life boiled down to a political decision you have no control over?”

Christopher turns away. “I understand.”

It’s the same for him, after all.

And though he sees, it hurts just the same.

“I suppose for her to really like me, there would have to be some foundation to base that upon, some mutual interest.” Christopher looks up at the sky. “There’s none of that here, even if I could see myself falling for her. I may have already done so. Still, that doesn’t alleviate my task. I went into this initially thinking we’d be in a loveless marriage. This only reverts our relationship back to square one.”

“It’s something I’ve been dealing with for many years now. An arranged marriage. A loss of autonomy. No chance at personal freedom.” Scarlet sighs.

“I see.”

“I’ve made my peace with it. If I must marry, I will marry. It’s the path of least resistance for the time being. Which is why I wanted to talk to you like this, man-to-man,” Scarlet says. She pauses. Her hands weave in front of her face. “It’s a figure of speech. Sorry,” she responds upon seeing the confusion in Christopher’s eyes.

“Why are you telling me this?” Christopher challenges. It’s an obvious question to ask, given the circumstances.

“Like I said, you seem like a good person. If you were a dick, I was going to keep this all hidden. You’re not, so you deserve to know how I truly feel. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t…apologize,” Christopher stumbles at her honest gaze. “I get it. I do. I’ve been a royal my whole life as well. We have responsibilities that make it impossible to live normal lives.”

“So you understand?”

“I do. Painfully so.”

“Then let me ask you a question,” Scarlet begins. “Suppose you beat Gai in the duel. We’re engaged. What are you going to expect from me?”

“Expect from you?”

“As your wife. What do you want?” Scarlet’s genuineness is unnerving. “I want to know what I’ll be forced to do.”

Christopher catches the underlying tone. He looks away. “I don’t want to force you to do anything.”

“If I said I never wanted children, you’d be fine with that?” Scarlet presses. “The marriage would dissolve in five years otherwise. I don’t want them, but we’d have to have them in order for this marriage to be worthwhile for you, correct?”

“Well…that’s kind of…the point…of marriage,” says Christopher awkwardly. “Otherwise it’ll get annulled like you said.”

“Then we’ll have to have sex?”

“You’re a really blunt person, you know that?” replies Christopher. His voice is slightly high-pitched. He turns to Scarlet. His forehead is lined with discomfort.

“I know. But I want answers.” Scarlet nods. “Will I be a machine to pump out little babies whenever you feel like it and nothing more?”

“No.”

“No?”

“I wouldn’t go that far. Maybe one or two max. And not so soon. Maybe sometime in the future.” Christopher awkwardly scratches his head. “While I’d like you to be attracted to me in some way, I understand the nature of our marriage. It’s political and not based on love. Our only requirement is to have children. We can even push that obligation off until right before the time limit if it’ll please you. There’s no need to rush. We can live our lives.”

“So I’ll be able to travel? See the world? Help people?” Scarlet presses.

“Is that what you really want to do?”

Scarlet nods.

“Then…” Christopher pauses. His mind is lost in thought. He never expected to have this kind of conversation today, let alone on a date. “I don’t see why not. We’ll have our own degree of autonomy after we’re married. Beyond our public life, I don’t see why we cannot use our power and influence to travel, see the country, experience things. We’ll have options. If that’s what you truly want out of life, we can make that happen.”

“Huh,” Scarlet huffs.

“What?”

“You’re not lying?”

“I’m not lying. I’d rather we didn’t hate each other. Being friends is better for both of us.”

“If that’s the case…” Scarlet hesitates. Slowly, she breathes out. “I hope you win.” The words seem both like a sign of relief and painful acceptance.

Christopher’s hair is swept in the wind as a gust blows through at that pronouncement. She placed her trust in him. He can feel it deep within his soul.

“I’ll do right by you,” Christopher suddenly thinks. “I promise.”

Scarlet leans a little closer. Her head is just inches away from Christopher’s. Her brow twists with discomfort. They twitch slightly as if she’s struggling to do what she’s doing.

A ping goes off in the prince’s head. “Is she wanting to kiss me?” He internally pauses. “No, I’m likely reading too much into this again. It wouldn’t match what she was saying earlier. Or would it? Is this a sign that she’s willing to place her trust in me? Like, here’s a kiss, I’m giving in a little, so uphold your end of the bargain? Is that it? Like a handshake? A deal has been struck?”

Scarlet appears to be waiting for something.

“I…I think she does. She wants me to kiss her.”

Resolving himself, Christopher leans forward to kiss the fiery-haired woman.

The distance closes.

They’re inches apart.

They ki—

“Hrrrk!” Scarlet lunges forward towards the water. Her hands go over her mouth.

“Are…are you gagging?” Christopher asks Scarlet, amazed by the turn of events.

Scarlet holds up a finger.

Christopher patiently waits.

“S-sorry.” Scarlet relaxes a bit like she was before. Still, one hand sits over her mouth. “I didn’t mean to.”

“You really gagged?!”

Scarlet clasps her hands together as if in prayer. “I’m sorry!”

“I’m not that hideous, am I?!” Christopher stares at his reflection in the water. He studies his face as if to discern the mistakes in his skin.

“You’re not, I promise.” Scarlet lightly pats Christopher’s shoulder. “It’s my fault. I thought I could if needed, but I’ve never kissed a…I’ve never kissed anyone before. I’m, uh, nervous?”

“Really?”

Scarlet nods.

“But you were going to kiss me?” Christopher crinkles his brow together.

“I…I kind of thought…hey…maybe…I should do something like that. To show I’m…invested, I guess.” Scarlet struggles to speak. She shudders. “Gods, my life is so fucking weird,” she whispers so low that Christopher cannot hear her.

“Do you…want to try again?” suggests Christopher. He’s uneasy, clearly. “You don’t have to force yourself.”

Scarlet slaps both her cheeks at the same time. She closes her eyes. “I’m prepared. Do it quickly before I change my mind!”

“How romantic…”

“Shut up!”

Christopher leans closer regardless. He’s inches away from Scarlet’s lips once more to complete their transaction.

Scarlet’s throat trembles. Her cheeks puff up. A guttural noise emits from her throat.

Christopher quickly pulls back. “You’re going to do it again, aren’t you?”

“Hrrrk!” Scarlet grasps her throat as she gags towards the water. Nothing comes out.

“I’m honestly offended now,” Christopher jokes. He can’t help but laugh at the situation.

“It’s not your fault. It’s mine.” Scarlet holds her hand over her mouth again as the gagging subsides. She removes it, staring out at the water. Her breathing is ragged. She turns back to Christopher. “Sorry, I—”

Christopher meets her lips with his own before she has a chance to contemplate the action. As soon as it began, it ends. Christopher pulls back.

The two stare at each other for a moment.

Scarlet blinks. “What?”

“See? Not so bad.” Christopher soothes over the kiss. “You didn’t gag that time.”

“No, I didn’t.” Scarlet stares forward as if she’s seen a ghost. Her tanned skin seems to pale.

“Do you…want to try again?”

“Huh?” Scarlet begins to blink rapidly.

Christopher chuckles. “It’d be good to get one in where you don’t gag before the wedding, at the very least.”

Scarlet frowns. “Are you making fun of me?”

“It is a little funny. And offensive. Most guys would probably be angry.”

“Most guys, huh? You’re angry too. I know you are cause I’m such a weirdo.”

“Yes, you are,” admits Christopher. “And that’s exactly what makes you special.”

“Special? Really? Me?”

“You’re a sword-wielding beauty that can control light and the darkness it creates. On top of that, you invent food, seemingly know everything, and can hold a conversation on any topic. It’s kind of astonishing,” Christopher remarks as he reflects on the day he’s had thus far.

“Huh.” Scarlet taps her chin. Her voice grows quiet. “Objectively, that is rather attractive. I would have found that appealing, too, I suppose.”

“Huh?”

“Nothing, nothing.” Scarlet waves her hands before her face. She sighs. “But you’re right, just…go again. I promise I won’t gag, but I’m keeping my eyes closed.”

“That’s fine.”

It’s hard to imagine that they’re both eighteen and twenty-two, respectively. As they are right now, they’re acting out their first kisses like two teens interacting with their first crushes. In a way, it’s cute. At the same time, the overtones creating this moment are pretty awkward.

Christopher kisses Scarlet.

True to her word, she does not gag. Her face still tenses up, but she’s able to get through the motion without violently overreacting.

“Better?” asks Christopher as he pulls back.

“It was manageable,” Scarlet replies honestly. She opens her eyes. A frown placates her lips.

“Only manageable? That hurts.” Christopher does his best to push off the news with a joke.

“It…wasn’t that bad. And that’s really, really…ominous.”

Christopher’s brow crinkles. “How so?”

“I…I don’t know how to answer that, to be honest. It’s…strange.”

“What’s so strange about a man kissing a woman?”

As if that were the most profound advice ever given, Scarlet appears to come to a sudden realization. “It isn’t, is it?”