The tournament crowd was boisterous and cheerful this day, reveling in the sunlight and camaraderie of the first fair day in far too long. Seated between one of her sisters and a lady from the lower court, she couldn't have asked for better weather or better company. Both women were friends first and ranking nobles second, and she was looking forward to catching up on the palace gossip.

Distracted by her sister's whisper, she didn't notice when the herald stepped out onto the field. The crowd began to quiet, however, and soon she could hear a single voice echoing off of the stands. The herald was a man, she noted with some surprise. Men's voices didn't always carry as well as women's.

"If it pleases you to bow your heads," he was saying, "we may pay tribute to the Animarian dead on the eastern front."

She pressed her lips together, exchanging glances with her sister. It was unfortunate that such a joyous day had to be marred by the reminder of fighting. But even now, soldiers were giving their lives to make such a day possible, and to forget that would be to diminish their sacrifice.

The herald began to pronounce the names of those most recently lost, and she bowed her head with the others. None of those named was familiar to her, but a gentle rustle from behind her made her turn her head a little. She might not have noticed if the silence had been less profound, but as it was that small movement caught her attention.

The sound didn't come again, and she couldn't turn her head to look. Her friend could, though, and she caught Lady Adeira's eye as she lowered her head again. Adeira's gaze was sympathetic. In that expression she read the truth of the situation.

No matter who had died, her protector couldn't just leave. But she could, and she would if he was in pain. Rank had its privileges.

There was a solemn moment of silence as the herald finished, and then the fanfare rang out to announce the opening of the tournament. She rose immediately, making her excuses to the women on either side of her. She turned down their offers to accompany her, saying she needed solitude to compose herself after such a recitation, and finally they seemed to accept it and let her go.

Her protector fell in behind her as she slipped through the curtains behind the parapets. Silent as a shadow, the only thing that gave away his presence was the whisper of air as he followed her through the ceremonial rooms. The rooms gave way to a second open air walkway on the other side of the tower, this one less heavily guarded than those on the outer wall.

She paused by the balustrade, drifting slightly to the left to place them an equal distance from the guards on either side. It was as close to privacy as he would have on short notice. She stared down into the courtyard, determined to give him the same time to compose himself that she had claimed for herself.

She stood there for a long time, her protector slightly behind and to her right. His voice, when he finally spoke, was quiet and pitched only for her ears. "If you did that for me," he murmured, "I thank you."

A small, satisfied smile curved her lips, but she didn't let it show in her voice. "May I ask who it was?"

"You may," he answered reluctantly. "But... I wish you would grant me the right of refusal."

"Granted," she said quickly. Her gaze still trained on the courtyard, she added, "I'm sorry for your loss, Merrick."

"Thank you, Princess." His tone was formal now, and she knew he would say no more. Would he appreciate a reprieve from the fair, or would he see it as coddling that he didn't need? If only she could turn to face him...

"I'm not going back to the tournament," she said abruptly. "I prefer some music. Can you recommend a bard from one of the outland guilds?"

There was only the slightest hesitation. "It would be my pleasure, Princess."

***

May flitted from one side of the room to the other, her yellow sundress a welcome ray of light on an otherwise gloomy afternoon. After such a promising start, the clouds that had rolled in around midday had been particularly disappointing. The rain had held off so far, however, and preparations for the outdoor banquet were going ahead as scheduled.

"And the champion took over the herald's job for himself!" the girl exclaimed, collecting brush and accessories before dancing back to the mirror where Shayla waited. "It was the funniest thing I ever saw, the two of them bouncing announcements back and forth as though they had rehearsed it!"

She smiled at May's reflection, knowing from experience that her silence wouldn't flatten the girl's effervescence one bit. She waited patiently while her hair was loosed to fall across her shoulders, interested in spite of herself by the account of the tournament. It hadn't been the most noteworthy event, and there would certainly be others, but another word of thanks from Merrick would have gone a long way toward easing her disappointment.

A loud knock on the outer doors cut May's chatter short, and they both listened as one of the women in the anteroom conferred with the guards outside. If it were a visitor that needed to be announced, she would have done it by now. So it was either a messenger, or--

"Princess." Merrick's voice made her heart skip a beat. She glanced at May quickly, and the girl gave her an appraising look. Then May nodded, silently pronouncing her fit to be seen, and she took a deep breath.

"Come in," she called, turning slightly to face the door to the anteroom.

Her protector entered. His gaze took in the entire room and came to rest briefly on her before he dropped to one knee. "Princess," he repeated, staring at the floor. "I've come to escort you to the banquet."

She frowned, searching his posture for some clue as to his true motive. His head was down, as it always was when he took a knee in company, but his right hand was on his knee instead of his belt. Something personal, then.

She caught May's eye and nodded once, cocking her head toward the back rooms. The girl curtseyed, setting the brush down beside the mirror before taking her leave. She wouldn't return until Shayla sought her out.

Once the door had closed behind May, she gave her protector her full attention once more. "Rise, Merrick. It's early for the banquet, is it not?"

He lifted his head, and she inhaled sharply at the force of his stare. Sometimes she forgot how intimidating Merrick's gaze could be when he wasn't tempering it with a show of humility. Her protector was restrained, not docile--the difference was a significant one.

A smile tugged at her lips, and she fought the instinct to look away. Intimidating, perhaps, but flattering too, to see him look at her that way. What had she done to deserve this warrior's respect?

"I came to answer your question," he said softly, not moving.

It took her a moment to understand what he was saying. Casting back, she finally had to ask, "What question?"

He swallowed, but no reply was forthcoming. He looked down at the floor again, and she couldn't resist teasing him a little. "Come, Merrick; my hair does need to be brushed before the banquet. Unless my escort wishes to be kept waiting?"

He did stand, then, and for one heart-stopping moment she thought he was going to leave. Instead, he paced over to her and picked up the brush without a word. It was her turn to swallow, eyes wide as his fingers gathered her curls gently away from her back. The brush teased the ends of her hair, gentle as a breeze as he worked the tangles out from the bottom up.

At length, he spoke, the words interrupting her contented reverie. "It was my father," he said into the silence. His hands didn't falter on her hair, but the statement made time stop.

As quickly as that, she knew which question he'd meant. She stood before she'd decided what to do, turning to him instinctively. "Merrick..." She caught his hands and stepped closer, searching a face that he had averted as soon as she stood. "I'm so sorry."

"Princess." His eyes glittered suspiciously, and he tried to move away. "It isn't proper--"

"Let me give you this comfort," she whispered. She released his hands and enfolded him in her arms before he could protest again. He was stiff and uncomfortable in his ceremonial garb, but she didn't care.

After a moment, he relaxed into her embrace, sliding his arms around her waist and drawing her tightly against him in return. He clung to her longer than she had expected. She did start to worry, then, but he let her go before she could do more than wonder who was most likely to enter announced.

"I'll wait outside," he began, and she put a finger over his lips.

"I'm not going to the banquet," she told him. "Wait if you will, but the animal spirits are restless tonight. I must attend them at the temple."

"Princess," he said quietly. "You will be missed tonight."

It was a subtle reproof, but it annoyed her that he pretended these things mattered to him. "I will do my duty as the guardian of the animal spirits," she informed him. "And I'll thank you not to question my decisions in the future."

The corner of his mouth quirked in an almost-smile. "Forgive me," he replied dryly. "What do I know of court maneuvering? I'll do as you wish, Princess."

"As you should," she said, turning her back on him so he wouldn't see her own smile. "For your own good."

***

The waterfall splashed shards of moonlight onto the smooth stone not far from where they sat. It was odd, but with the daily constraints against looking each other in the eye, it had become hard habit to break. They sat with their backs pressed against each other, facing in opposite directions beneath the star-spangled sky.

"Thank you for listening," he said at last, the words drifting to her on the wind.

"I'm honored that you could share so much about him," she murmured. With me, she added silently, but she didn't say it aloud.

"I'm flattered that you care," he replied, sounding a little wistful.

"Merrick..." She tilted her head to the side, speaking to his shoulder. "I can't let you go, as my protector, because I won't have anyone else."

"No one else would meet the standards I'd set for them." It wasn't a warning, or even a boast, just a simple statement of fact. He wasn't going anywhere.

She nodded, accepting that. "Even so... I'm sorry for what it does to us."

That was met with silence.

She sighed, turning her gaze back to the waterfall. If she were to be magically granted one wish, she didn't even know what it would be. If she weren't royalty, she wouldn't have met Merrick. If he wasn't her protector, she would never see him. But it wasn't easy, keeping a secret like theirs.

He shifted a little, putting his arms out to the sides and bracing some of his weight against the ground instead of her. She mimicked his position without thinking, resting her hands on top of his. She smiled as he spread his fingers, letting hers intertwine with his on the warm stone of the temple floor.

"I'm not sorry." The words came out of nowhere, surprising her. There was another moment of quiet, and then he added, "We are who we are, Princess. To wish otherwise is to deny something of what I feel for you. I thank the stars every day for allowing our paths to cross, no matter what the circumstances."

She leaned back, head resting gently against his as those same stars sparkled in the water in front of her. "Thank you," she whispered, not sure whether she was addressing them or him. "For letting me know you."

The amusement in his voice was unmistakable. "Believe me," he murmured. "The pleasure is mine, Princess."