Tiffany Dunn - If I Should Never Find You

Melissa looked up, eyeing Wendell. She had Sport in her arms, the big cat sleeping soundly. Another day of travel had passed and the group had arrived in Peatown, the small portion of the Fourth Kingdom that Princess Aileen ruled. They were at the outer edges now, passing small farms and large families. There were rows and rows of short crops that were, unsurprisingly, peas. After a moment, Melissa answered him. "No. I was only two."

Wendell watched a young boy chasing a dog around, until the boy was called back by a single, sharp word from an older woman. "My parents died when I was young, too."

"Really?" She shifted the cat in her arms, and Wendell found himself jealous of Sport.

"Yes. The Evil Queen poisoned them. She tried to kill me, too, but they caught her. That is why she was in Snow White Memorial Prison."

"How old were you?"

"I was ten when my mother died and fourteen when my father died." Wendell felt that familiar ache for what might have been.

"You must have some memories, then."

"Yes." They passed by a man leading a team of oxen. "And a portrait of each, as well." He looked at Melissa in time to see the passing of some unknown emotion on her face.

"I have one picture of my mother. I don't know what my dad looked like at all. He died before I was born, and they had no pictures from the old country." She was gripping Sport more tightly now, a sign Wendell had started recognizing. It meant something had terribly upset her.

"What is the old country?"

"It's another place in my world. They immigrated from there to Los Angeles just before I was born."

Wendell nodded his understanding, and they continued their walk in silence. Teresa had spent most of the day even with them, but was hanging back now. Whenever he looked back on her, she had her eyes on the people, a soft smile on her face. She looked so content that he simply let her be.

He wished he could do the same with Melissa.

Most of the day she'd talked with Teresa, occasionally pressing him for information on the nine kingdoms and their inhabitants, and sharing a lot of information with him on the Tenth Kingdom. It had been a pleasant, diverting conversation, and for awhile Wendell had forgotten that she would leave him, eventually, without ever knowing how he cared for her.

He looked back over his shoulder again, but Teresa seemed absorbed in the play of several boys off the side of the path. Soon she would have to distract Melissa again, before he did something foolish. Yesterday had nearly been a disaster, when he had acted so recklessly after his argument with the Pigs. He had nearly kissed her, had seen the desire hiding in her own eyes and had been ready to take advantage of it. Though he'd been upset when she'd turned away yesterday, today he was mostly relieved.

It was good that Sport kept Melissa's hands full now, leaving conversation as their only connection. But talking to her seemed almost worse than touching her. At least the thrill of feeling her skin could be a purely physical attraction. This deep need to know what she was thinking, to know everything about her, lay bare the truth of his feelings.

Feelings I can never show her because she lives a world away. He knew this was what Wolf must have felt for Virginia. But he's with Virginia, isn't he? Wendell thought, the sharp edge of bitterness slicing his heart. He had nothing here without her. I ... I have a Kingdom. People who can't even decide how to keep their bloody chickens separate. A growl burned low in his throat, and Melissa's head jerked towards him, her eyebrows raised.

Wendell cleared his throat loudly, thumping a fist on his chest.

"Are you all right?"

"Oh, yes. Fine." He smiled thinly, gesturing at the area to distract them both. "This land is a part of the Fourth Kingdom, but Princess Aileen acts as general ruler. The Fourth Kingdom is too large for me to effectively rule it alone, and Aileen's line has ruled here for generations."

"What fairy tale is she from?"

"Fairy tale?" He considered it, shrugging. "I really don't know what it would be in your world. Remember, Melissa, here she is just a princess." He smiled, softening the words.

Sport woke then, meowing loudly. "Sporty," Melissa cooed, her features lighting as she kissed him on the head. Wendell hid his distaste of the cat from her, instead looking at the main part of Peatown. Melissa let Sport down, and the cat darted ahead several feet and stopped to stretch. Just beyond him, the small farms gave way to buildings packed more tightly together, and the dirt path turned into a cobblestone street. It reminded Wendell of a much more serious Kissingtown. All of the buildings had peas or a peapod on them in some way, and many had small paintings of the Princess. She looked lovely in all of them, her long hair always hanging loose, her large brown eyes always smiling. Wendell hoped those eyes would see through the dirt and the rumors to the man beneath. He wanted to get the women real food and real beds and real rest. He and Aileen had been friends since they were babies, and they both knew their parents had hoped for marriage. They had tried to arrange it when Wendell was seven, just before Snow White left the castle. But the great queen had been adamantly against an arranged marriage. It had been one of her last commands, and it had been whispered about for years after she'd gone.

"You must never betroth Wendell," she had warned his father. "We of the House of White walk the path of true love, and no one can find it but the traveler. If someone else tries, you will only condemn him to misery." She had made his father promise never to arrange a marriage, and the man had stayed true to his word.

After Wendell had been crowned, he had considered asking Aileen to be his wife, at a loss for anyone he would trust as much, but that had been before Melissa. Marrying Aileen now would be a betrayal of the heart, and he wanted no part of it.

The castle appeared suddenly on the horizon, small and stunning. He heard Melissa's small gasp and then a soft, appreciative noise. Many, many years ago, one of Aileen's line had found a vein of marble and had covered the castle's walls with it. Even now, it still glistened in the sunlight, begging to be noticed.

"How beautiful." Teresa stood on Melissa's other side, staring at the castle as well.

"They take very good care of their castle. You should see it during a ball." Wendell smiled, and started forward again, anxious to be there. "It seems to dance with the torchlight."

The three arrived at the entrance several minutes later, Sport tagging along behind them. It was fairly empty at the gates this late in the afternoon. One of the guards, garbed in the green and brown of Aileen's colors, waved them forward.

"What's your business?" he intoned flatly.

"We've come to see the Princess Aileen."

"All questions, begging, and fawning are done for the day. Come back tomorrow."

Wendell glanced at the two women, who both shrugged. They seemed more interested in studying the beauty of the stonework. He inhaled slowly and faced the guards. "Sir, I am King Wendell. It is imperative that I speak with the Princess."

He could see the derision starting and had braced himself when the other guard held out a hand.

"Wait a minute, Dirk." They held a whispered conversation, Dirk grunting unhappily. Finally, the other guard motioned for Wendell and the women to follow him. "This way," he ordered. "And pick up your cat." Teresa quickly gathered Sport into her arms and they followed after the guard, silent. Wendell glanced at the two women, but neither seemed particularly concerned or surprised.

The entranceway of the castle's interior was a huge 'T', each hall ending in doors. The floor was marble, with rugs laid out at even intervals. Tapestries and portraits lined the walls, a visual history of Aileen's family. In the very center of the room on a man-sized pedastal was a bronze pea, several feet in diameter.

"Princess and the Pea," Melissa murmured. "Of course."

"Stay here." The guard gave Wendell a searching look, and then abruptly turned and headed down the left hallway.

He felt Melissa edge closer to him, until their shoulders were touching, both of them staring at the bronze pea. "So," she said. "Do you think they believe you?"

Wendell wanted to grab her by the arm and ask her the same question. Beg her to believe him. Aileen's belief didn't matter, if Melissa thought he was lying. Instead he shrugged, clasping his hands behind his back. "I am not sure. I can't imagine why they would let us in otherwise. But this is not generally where Aileen receives important guests."

"But it's possible. I mean, that they believe you."

He turned his head, watching her. "It is possible, yes."

She met his gaze, slowly. "That you're a king."

"Yes."

"And you haven't been lying."

He smiled and lifted his hand, ready to push the hair back out of her eyes.

"Wendell?" His hand dropped and he turned, looking down the corridor to the right to see Aileen gaping openly. "Is that you?"

"Aileen! It is me, you must believe me."

She took a few steps closer, her slippered feet silent on the marble floor. "It's hard to believe ... "

"I know." He held out a hand helplessly. "Ask me a question. Anything."

"How do I know you haven't been prepared for questions?"

Wendell sighed, wishing for a moment she'd lost some of her perceptiveness. "Please Aileen. Something only Wendell would know."

"All right." Her gaze flicked to Melissa, traveled down the other woman's form, and then moved back to Wendell. "Two years ago, what did we do the night after your birthday ball? And what does the kingdom believe we did?"

He felt Melissa's gaze stab him in the back, and his neck grew warm. "Ah," he cleared his throat, nervous. "Well, the Kingdom believes that we ... ah, slept together, but we didn't," he added in a rush. "We spent the night talking and drinking until we passed out on my bed." Wendell looked behind him, but Melissa was studying the bronze pea carefully. "That's all that happened," he pleaded, no longer speaking to Aileen.

"You didn't sound so grateful about that two years ago," Aileen said, coming to stand next to him. When he turned to face her, she put a hand on each of his cheeks and kissed him solidly. "Welcome back, Wendell. I missed you."

He stood there in shock until she broke the kiss and gestured at Melissa. "Who are they? And why are you all so dirty?"

Wendell blinked, slowly, certain that he couldn't be anymore mortified at that moment.

"I'm Melissa, this is Teresa. We're from the Tenth Kingdom." The words sliced between them.

"Ohhhhh," Aileen's eyes widened and she smiled coyly at Wendell, taking his arm in hers. "That's where that lovely Virginia was from, wasn't it? How cute." He knew, suddenly, that he was wrong -- it was possible to be more embarrassed. And he felt certain Aileen was going to bring them to new limits.

"What, by the queen, was that all about?" Wendell demanded several minutes later. He had explained everything about Melissa's situation and the mirror to Aileen while she'd walked them to the guestrooms. The entire time, she'd held onto Wendell's arm, flirting openly with him and insinuating a relationship that didn't actually exist. If she hadn't been a princess, and if his ingrained etiquette hadn't been so strong, he would have yelled at her long before this. But now that the other two women were in their rooms getting cleaned up, his tongue felt sharp and loose.

"What are you talking about, dear?" Aileen was leading him to his private guestroom now.

"The way you're acting! It's shameless. And it's a lie."

She laughed softly. "She's quite beautiful, you know. Quite ... " she paused, then snapped her fingers. "Ethereal. Yes."

He blinked, unprepared for the swift change of subject. "Yes," he answered, guarded. "She is also very kind and doesn't need you insulting her or acting like this."

"Really, Wendell, you're so dense sometimes."

"Dense? Aileen, stop playing games with me. What are you up to?"

They stopped in the middle of the empty corridor, and she laid a hand on his arm. "I'm helping you."

"Helping!"

"Yes. Helping. It's quite obvious how you feel about her. I saw the way you were looking at her before I cut you off. My goodness, Wendell, I could actually feel it. But her," she patted his arm and started walking again, "she's not so obvious. It's there, in her eyes and her reaction. I was just testing her. If she hadn't seemed upset, then I would have stopped, although it was rather enjoyable." Aileen winked. "I only continued to drive the point home. A little competition does wonders for decision-making."

Wendell hurried after her, dumbfounded. "I'd thank you to stop, Aileen. Regardless of what you thought you saw between us, Melissa doesn't need your 'help' in making any sort of decision. She is free to do whatever she wants, and you and I both will stay out of it."

"Oh Wendell." She looked into his eyes, and he was surprised by the sadness he saw there. "How do you live each day, believing that?"

He shook his head, feigning confusion. "I don't know what you mean," he whispered. But that was a lie. The mere thought of the days when she would be gone slashed his heart with vibrant pain. "It's because I love her," he said roughly.

Aileen made a disapproving 'tsk.' "So it's the "I'll be noble and set her free because I think I know what she wants and now I'll be miserable for the rest of my life" routine?"

"You don't understand." His words needled him, drawing out his anger.

"Maybe I don't. I've never been in love like that. I don't imagine I ever will. It's a trait that always seemed particular to the truly great."

They stopped in front of the door to his room. Wendell ran his hand over the intricately carved wood while he struggled for words. "I appreciate what you're trying to do, Aileen," he finally managed, "but stop it. The situation is not as simple as it seems, and it doesn't need your help. This is best for everyone, not just Melissa, and she especially doesn't need to know how I feel."

"Doesn't need to know? How long have you two been traveling together?"

Wendell's brow furrowed. "A few days, I believe."

"Trust me dear, she knows." Aileen opened up the door, and looked inside, nodding her approval. "Good, the servants are done cleaning."

"You did know it was me."

"Of course, Wendell." She smiled warmly. "Since you arrived at the gate, actually. I could pick you out of a crowd, no matter what you were dressed like. Although," she plucked at his dirty clothing, her nose wrinkled. "This almost worked. You'll have to tell me more about this later. We can talk about Melissa more, too, when you're clean and thinking clearly."

"No. No more talk of her, I won't have it. And no more games, either. This is my business, leave it be."

"Yes, your Highness." Aileen curtsied, and he knew he had hurt her. Wendell groaned inwardly. Women.

"May I say one last thing?" she whispered.

He sighed. "One."

"You don't know for sure that it might not be the best thing for everyone, including Melissa. It's love, Wendell, how awful could it be? Now, have a bath," she continued without waiting for an answer. "And put on some more appropriate clothes. We're dining in an hour." She kissed him swiftly on the cheek and walked off, her step silent.

Wendell is a king, Melissa repeated to herself for the fiftieth time that evening, swallowing down the last piece of cake. She brushed at the skirt of her simple dress, thankful to be clean and in clean clothes. The pale yellow dress she wore made her feel more a part of this medieval world. Wendell had changed into fresh clothes as well. She looked at him again, all of the dirt and grime gone. It was a startling change to see him in the crisp white shirt, the blue trim matching his eyes. He looked very ... kingly.

The royalty didn't awe her, though she now regretted some of her earlier comments to him, because she'd had some experience with it before. Movie stars were as much as royalty in her world, and she'd been casual friends with Princess Diana and had grown accustomed to the feel of it. The hard part was the fact that the whole time he had been telling the truth, that all her reasons for not trusting him -- not trusting her feelings for him -- had been washed away with the dirt.

What would she do now?

She leaned back in her chair and exhaled slowly, trying to take her mind off of it. "That is the most food I have ever eaten. My compliments to your chef."

Aileen smiled, finishing off the last of her own food. Melissa wasn't sure what had happened, but the woman's behavior was remarkably changed from earlier, even downright friendly. The dinner had passed with pleasant ease between the women, with no flirting between the royalty. She knew Wendell had hardly looked at Aileen all evening, because Melissa had felt his eyes on her instead. Whenever she looked up at him, his gaze was always elsewhere, but when she looked away, it returned immediately. It was starting to bug her.

"You certainly earned a good meal, by your tale. I just wish you had found the mirror, it is a terrible thing that someone stole it."

"I know," Wendell broke in, pushing his own half-full plate away. He had been quiet most of the meal. "We don't know where it is. We don't know who took it, or who has it now even. It is just an incredible disaster."

"We can still find it," Melissa insisted.

He met her eyes for the first time that evening and didn't say a word. He didn't need to.

"Still," Aileen said, "I'm not sure why you don't just return to your castle. If we alert the citizens of the kingdom --"

"And let them know that their king lost a traveling mirror? Oh, yes, Aileen, what a wonderful idea. Then we can just send the trolls an invite and have them come over, too." He picked up his knife and then slammed it down again.

Melissa shared a quick look with the other two women. Wendell had also been sulky since he'd sat down, and anxious. Whatever had happened between him and Aileen had not gone over well. "You don't have to be rude, Wendell," she said, feeling sorry for the princess.

He dragged one hand down his face, sighing. "It is bad enough that I ran away. If the kingdom finds out about the mirror ... they need their peace of mind, right now. I am not helping anything."

"The mirror wasn't your fault," she reminded him.

"And," Aileen added, "you were running after the mirror. I think that's quite noble. I'm sure your people would see it the same way."

Wendell took a piece of meat and set it down on the ground. When Melissa glanced under the table, she saw Sport crouched by his feet, gnawing happily on the food. "I don't know. Maybe you're right. My advisors are quite gifted at that sort of thing. They can probably convince everyone I did something right."

The three women all shook their heads, and Aileen stood up. "We can discuss this further tomorrow morning," she announced. "You all must be exhausted. I know I am," she said, her smile forced. "If you'll excuse me?" Melissa and Terry nodded, and Wendell pushed himself to his feet, though he still fiddled with the knife. They all watched Aileen walk away without making a noise.

Teresa yawned, standing as well. "I really am exhausted," she said. "Especially after that meal. I think I'll turn in. Don't stay up too late, Missy."

Melissa rolled her eyes. Even in the midst of a fairy tale kingdom, at a princess' table, Terry still managed to mother her. "I won't," she said, rising to give her a hug.

"You either, Wendell dear."

Wendell looked up, and for a moment, he smiled. "Sleep well, Teresa."

The older woman gathered Sport into her arms and left the room. When they were alone, they both sat back down, watching each other. No one else was in the small dining hall, not even servants. The whole castle felt asleep.

"What happened between you two earlier?"

Wendell flinched. "You are direct sometimes, aren't you?"

"When I need to be. You've been acting really strange tonight. And you were awfully sharp with the Princess."

"Aileen and I have been friends for a long time, she understands." He shoved the knife away, across the table, and folded his hands in his lap. "Don't you do the same with Terry?"

"We're not talking about me and Terry."

"Well maybe we should."

"Our relationship has nothing to do with this."

"I haven't seen you in a dress before. You look beautiful."

She flushed, but pressed the issue. "Direct isn't going to work tonight, is it?"

His eyes glimmered in the light from the candles on the table. "No."

Melissa sighed, tapping her nail against her glass, the quiet ring lost in the room. "So why is Aileen exhausted?" she finally asked.

Whatever was seething in Wendell's eyes suddenly dimmed, and he stared down at his hands. "She doesn't sleep very well. She never has. It's a family trait."

"Like a curse?"

"No, it's just a trait. It's just who they are. You seem to know the story of her grandmother, don't you?"

Melissa frowned, and then realized that the Princess and the Pea was not Aileen at all, but Aileen's grandmother. What was that story? she thought. It had been years and years since she'd heard it, and it had never seemed that important to her anyway. "Something about ... let me think. She slept on a tall stack of mattresses, didn't she? And there was a pea at the bottom and she could feel it? I don't really remember." She felt guilty for that, sitting here at Aileen's table.

"Once upon a time," Wendell said, the words flowing naturally from him, "a prince was looking for a bride. He and his mother, the queen, looked for a very long time, but could never find a true princess, someone of real nobility. They both became very frustrated and were thinking of giving up their search, the prince to remain without a wife for the rest of his days.

"One day, a young woman came to the door, asking if the prince had been married yet. The guards said no and took her to the Queen to be questioned, as had all the others. The queen asked her many things, and the young woman seemed to be a true princess. But several others had passed the queen's questioning, only to fail at the final test." Wendell lay his hands flat on the table, watching Melissa again. His voice was warm and smooth and hypnotizing.

"The young woman very much wanted to marry the prince, for he was known as a kind and handsome man throughout his kingdom, and what woman wouldn't want to be queen? So she eagerly agreed to the queen's final test. She was taken to a room, and in the room was a single bed, and nothing more. On the bed were layer upon layer of blankets, until they rose almost to the young woman's head. "You shall sleep here tonight," the queen said, pointing to the pile. "On top of all of these blankets. Then, in the morning, you shall take the final test." The young woman thought it was a bit strange, but agreed and climbed onto the top of the bed with help from the footstool.

"The next morning, the young woman was brought before the queen again, and asked a few more questions. But the entire time, she could not stop yawning, and she looked very tired, as though she hadn't slept at all. "My dear," the queen asked, "did you not sleep well? I left you a pile of blankets to sleep on so you would be more comfortable."

""My Queen," the young woman replied, curtseying low, "the bed indeed looked comfortable, but someone left a pea at the very bottom of the blankets, and I couldn't fall asleep." The queen smiled and hugged the young woman and called her daughter, saying that she had passed the final test. For only a woman of true nobility would be sensitive enough to feel the pea. And so the young woman, Aileen's grandmother, was married to the prince." He stopped, and the silence settled quickly between them.

"And they lived happily ever after?" Melissa whispered, almost afraid to ask.

"And they lived happily ever after, yes. For a time. But the new queen never slept very well after that, and neither did her daughter, nor her granddaughter. There is no bed that has been made that has not had some flaw that they did not find."

"Wow." It had never occurred to her that the people of the myths she had grown up with had lives after the 'happily ever after.' It had never occurred to her that they had lives at all, until coming here. "So Aileen still hasn't found a suitable bed?"

Wendell shook his head, smiling sadly. "Not for lack of trying. Bed-makers across the kingdom have tried when she has asked, but none has succeeded."

"That's so sad."

"She gets by." He licked his lips, glancing around them. "Many nights she uses magic, or alcohol, to fall asleep. But that drains her in other ways. And no one knows but me," he added, leaning forward.

"I won't tell anyone. I would never that do that to someone else. Besides, I can empathize with her, in a way."

"As can I."

She shook her head, knowing what it was like to want so badly to go to sleep and to be unable to that you had to resort to such measures. "It's so tragic, though. The very thing that made her grandmother happy has affected her family this way."

Wendell stretched his hand across the table, palm up, and Melissa looked at it for a long moment. His eyes were on her face as she slowly put her hand in his. Her skin tingled from his warmth. "You are an incredible woman," he murmured.

"Me?" she looked at their hands, half-lit by candlelight. On the shadowed side, they looked as one. "I just feel sorry for her."

"It is the fact that you care at all, when you have no reason to. When you have so much else to worry about. I find it remarkable." He squeezed her hand gently, pulling it, and her gaze, to his lips. He kissed her fingers softly, and she felt the heat of it long after he stopped.

"Wendell," She found herself breathing unevenly. "I'm sorry I didn't believe you."

"It doesn't matter now." He stood, taking her hand with him until she stood as well. "Will you walk with me for a bit? I must talk to you."

She pulled her hand away and came around the table, taking his arm. He smelled of soap and smoke and the spicy meat they'd eaten. While they walked out of the dining room, she fingered the crisp fabric of his shirt and tried not to stare up at him like a lovestruck girl.

Though she knew it wasn't far from the truth.

Melissa wasn't surprised at all when they ended up in a beautiful, dark garden for their walk. The moon, just over half-full, was not enough to disturb the cloying shadows. The air was cool, and a soft wind caressed the flowers gently, filling the night with sweet smells.

She glanced up when Wendell simply stood there, but he didn't move or look down, so she leaned her head on his shoulder and waited for him to talk. She wouldn't be the one to break the moment. He remained quiet as well, instead slowly bringing his fingers up and tracing her cheek. The touch was as gentle as the night breeze. It was so much like a movie scene, that Melissa waited for someone to yell 'cut' and flip the lights on.

Pulling away from him a little, she looked into his eyes, wondering what words he had brought her out here to say, hoping to see her feelings reflected there. The moonlight glimmered off of his golden hair, and she tugged gently on a soft curl, but still he stared out into the dark night, seemingly not aware of her presence. A night bird twittered in a nearby tree, playing a soft score to the scene. It was all so perfect. It was such a fairy tale.

"What did you want to say?" she asked, suddenly frightened. Movies never ended on these perfect scenes. A sad smile broke across his lips. "I'm not sure, really. I just wanted to be near you." Melissa wondered at the ache that touched those words, until he finally looked at her and she was captured by his eyes.

Cautiously, Melissa slipped her hand up to his cheek, through his soft hair and then to the warm skin of his neck. He tensed under her touch, but she pulled him towards her anyway, and he did little to resist. She watched him watching her, his eyes dark and wide as she pressed her lips, and then her body, against his. He tensed again, and for a moment she thought he would pull away. But he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her even closer, closing his eyes. She closed her own, and in the darkness he filled her senses. Sound and smell, taste and touch, were all of him, as they kissed. They explored first, testing, marveling at the unexpected familiarity. As the kiss deepened, it turned tender, two people seeking understanding. Melissa felt his soul through that kiss, and gave hers to him willingly in return. Her heart swelled with completeness.

Wendell was the first to break the kiss, gathering her more tightly into his arms and simply holding her close. He nuzzled into her hair, and his ragged breathing was tumultuous in her ear. Beneath the fresh fabric of his shirt, she could feel the pounding drumbeat of his heart. Melissa knew she sounded and felt the same to him. Slowly, the wind cooled her down, and Wendell's strong grip loosened a little.

"I should not have done that," he whispered in her ear. He sounded on the verge of tears.

Melissa ran her hands down his arms, smiling. "You didn't. I did, and I don't regret it at all." He was the sweetest man she had ever known, feeling guilty even when it wasn't his fault.

His breath puffed into her hair as he briefly murmured something too soft for her to hear.

"What?"

Wendell didn't respond at first, his breath still ragged. Finally he said, "I have a garden much like this at my castle. It has many more flowers, though. It's much bigger, and much more beautiful. But it will be nothing now, ugly compared to this garden." He kissed her forehead. "When this is where I told you I love you."

Her eyes flew open, and she felt her breathing stutter. "You haven't told me yet," she managed, trying to laugh.

He pressed his lips to her forehead again, and she felt him say, "I love you, Melissa. I have since the moment I first looked in your eyes."

She hugged him, one of his buttons pressing into her cheek. Suddenly, she was terrified -- of what he'd said, of repeating the words and giving them life by saying them aloud. She'd avoided the issue with herself, and was unprepared to face it with him yet.

Wendell rubbed his cheek against her hair. "It's all right, you know, if you don't love me." His voice was raw. "I just thought you should know that you are loved. In case you need it."

Melissa felt tears run down her cheeks, and she pressed the heel of her palms into her eyes, trying to hold them back. "I do," she whispered, unable to say anything more. His chest hitched and he hugged her tightly to him again.

They embraced in silence for a long time, while the wind and the birds and the flowers moved around them. And then, quietly, Wendell asked, "What do we do now?"

Melissa shook her head, wiping away the last of her tears. "I really don't know," she admitted. The words he wanted to hear still lodged in her throat, and she struggled just to breathe past them.

"I hope I haven't ruined things for us."

"No," she answered quickly. "You haven't." I have she thought. How could one person be so selfless? "I just ... I hadn't planned on this."

"Neither had I. This was, in fact, the last thing I thought would happen tonight."

She struggled to drag the conversation somewhere safer. "You're a great kisser," she said, desperately hoping to lighten both their moods.

Leaning back a little, she caught his wisp of a smile. "So are you. That was the second to last thing I thought would happen tonight. Whatever possessed me to bring you out here..." His eyes dimmed with sadness again.

"I'll have to thank Aileen," Melissa whispered hurriedly. Wendell met her gaze, looking surprised, and she managed to grin at him. "It had to be something she did," she explained. "We women understand these things."

He shook his head, but smiled a little in return. "I am afraid I will never understand 'those things.'"

"I still wish I could help Aileen in some way," Melissa murmured. Aileen's problems seemed so much easier to deal with than her own. The wind tickled the hairs on her arms, and she frowned, realizing something. "The bed-makers, what have they built her?"

"Built her? Beds, of course. Why?" Wendell asked, puzzled.

"Regular beds? With legs and things?"

"Yes."

"Well that's the problem, then!" Melissa looked around at the trees in the garden, smiling.

"I don't understand what you mean."

She gestured at the trees as if that would explain it. When he still didn't get it, she grabbed his hand and started dragging him back in, consumed by a plan. "She asked them the wrong thing," she said. "The princess doesn't need a better bed, she needs a new type of bed. Come on, we have to wake Terry up."

An hour later, the three admired Melissa's handiwork. A thick blanket had been strung between two of the stouter trees in the garden, and Sport was lying under it, dozing. Wendell had his arm around Melissa as she shivered in the night air, grinning triumphantly.

"A hammock," Terry said, shaking her head. "I thought you were nuts when you woke me up for this, but it all makes sense now. There's nothing for the Princess to sleep on but the blanket--"

"Which is soft, so she'll sleep through the night," Melissa interrupted excitedly. For the moment, the joy and pain of earlier was forgotten. "This is great. Wendell, you have to go get her. I really think this will work."

He was staring at the hammock as though it didn't exist. "She won't just fall out?"

She laughed and impulsively kissed him on the cheek, ignoring Terry's raised eyebrows. "Trust me," she whispered. He nodded, and with a glance to Terry, kissed Melissa chastely on the forehead.

"I will be back shortly."

Melissa watched him leave, as much to avoid Teresa's questions as to simply look at Wendell.

"I see you two are getting along much better now."

"You could say that."

Teresa came up next to her, and laid a hand on her shoulder. "I'm happy for you, Missy. You know that."

Melissa put her hand over Terry's and squeezed it. "Thank you," she said. She didn't want to tell Terry yet of how she'd ultimately failed. Those problems could wait for the morning.

"And I'm proud of you."

She groaned, stepping away from Teresa's hand, feeling the ugly weight of guilt. "People do this sort of thing all the time, why are you proud of me?"

"Because," Terry's voice was calm, "I know what you've been through."

"Is this about Rob? Because of what happened with him, what he did? He didn't do anything to me! The first time he hit me, I left, you know that. Why do you insist on thinking I'm so injured by him?" Melissa spun to face her, stabbing her finger at the other woman. "Just stop bringing him up." She felt reckless, irrational, and exhausted.

"It doesn't matter what he did or didn't do to you physically," somehow Teresa remained serene. "I know you suffered just as much as that girl."

"I suffered no where near what she did," Melissa seethed. The face she couldn't forget loomed large in her memory. "And if I had my way, he would. Twice as much. But it still has nothing to do with Wendell and I."

"I think it has everything to do with you two. Have you told Wendell?"

"No. God, Teresa, I'm an adult now, I can handle this."

"I worry about you. I don't think you've ever really 'handled' what happened with Rob at all. Or what happened with the girl. I think you and Wendell have something more true than most of what we see and touch every day." She took a step closer, hands out to the side. Melissa's heart clenched, her mind struggled to push away the words. "I don't want whatever is lingering to ruin your chance at real happiness. I meant what I said about revenge."

Melissa covered her face with her hands. Too much had happened today to deal with this now. Like the rest of her problems, it would wait until morning. "I'll be fine. We'll be fine. I'll tell him, if you think it's so important."

"I do. Sometimes keeping a secret to protect someone you love is the worst thing you can do."

Melissa couldn't meet Terry's eyes, so she kept her gaze on the hammock. "I don't think it will matter, honestly. But I'll tell him. Now will you leave me alone?"

"The hammock was a really good idea, Missy. I'm impressed."

Melissa understood the unspoken agreement to finally let the matter drop. "It just hit me out of the blue. They kept building her beds, and not ever trying to find something 'new.' I'm excited about this."

"I should hope so," Aileen said, coming outside with Wendell. She was dressed in a simple white sleeping gown, clutching a cloak around her shoulders. Her long hair was only slightly mussed, though her soft eyes looked even darker than earlier. "His Highness was quite adamant that I had to get up. Not that I was sleeping that well anyway. What is that?" Her gaze had already picked out the hammock behind them. She walked past Melissa and touched the blanket tied firmly to the two trees.

"We're hoping it's the answer to your problems." Melissa moved next to her. "It's called a hammock. You sleep on it."

"Mm-hm. Wendell told me you knew about our family 'blessing.'" She pushed down on the blanket, testing it for strength. "You really think this will work?" Her voice was hushed and hopeful.

Melissa chewed her lower lip, afraid to not be right. "I really do. It couldn't hurt to try."

"I should say not. If you could just show me how to get in this thing ... "

Several minutes later, after toppling out of the hammock twice, Princess Aileen lay safely in it, her hands tightly gripping the edges of the blanket.

"The fear may keep me awake," she said, laughing shakily.

Two guards came out of the darkness to stand watch over the princess, and Wendell pulled a blanket over her to keep her warm. "Sleep well, Aileen," he whispered, smiling at her. He returned to Melissa's side and took her hand. She felt instantly warmer.

After calling Sport to them, the three left the princess and her guards outside, and Terry bid them another goodnight. Wendell walked Melissa to her door, their hands entwined. She wanted to pull away, to spare them hope and heartache, but couldn't leave the magic of his touch.

"Do I need to tell you again how extraordinary you are?" he said when they'd stopped outside.

Her cheeks reddened with embarrassment. "No, you don't." Melissa glanced at her door and back to Wendell, licking her lips. It reminded her of that night by the fire, her desire then amplified now. "We should go to sleep, I guess."

"Yes." He looked to the door as well, then to her, and she saw the emotions in his eyes. Anxiety, sadness, and, remarkably, love. "You know, I meant what I said earlier. You look stunning."

She smiled nervously, unprepared for the heartfelt compliment. Especially dressed as simply as she was. "Thank you," she whispered.

"We have a long day tomorrow," he said after a long moment of silence. "I hope to reach Tony's by tomorrow night. He needs to know."

Melissa opened the door to her room and Sport darted inside. Why can't you say it? Tell him, she begged herself. "I understand," she murmured instead. "Good night, Wendell."

"Good night, Melissa."

She shut the door, and felt as if she'd left half herself outside.