As the days slid by, I was aware that the day of reckoning was coming. Every day that passed was a step toward it. Toward facing up to the truth. The truth of who believed. In me, in us.. In the Rebellion. I was so, so scared. Scared that no-one would turn up, scared that the only people who would come would be Omageke's knights... Scared that if people did come, that I would not be what they expected... Scared that they would expect me to be something I was not.. 

"Hey.. Isolde.. What's up?" Fyren walked over slowly to where I was slumped against the trunk of a tall tree, staring, terrified, into space. 

"Can I be honest with you, Fyren?" I asked in a low voice. He knelt in front of me. 

"Of course." He murmured, staring into my eyes. I shivered, a strange sensation shooting down my spine. 

"You... you're nineteen.." He nodded. "So.. you're the closest to me in age. Have you.. have you ever felt that.. People expect you to be more grown up than you feel? Do you ever think that people.. people are disappointed when they meet you?"  Fyren stared at me for a long moment. Then, he smiled slowly. 

"Of course I have felt like that in the past. But.. This isn't about me, is it?" I looked away, embarrassed. Was I that easy to read? Yes, I had been obvious with my true intentions, but.. I felt like this was something more. That connection I had felt before... Linking Fyren's heart to my own.. This was its work. "This is about you. You.. You're scared about the full moon. You're scared that.. people will expect things of you that you cannot give. But, Isolde.. You are everything I expected of the Princess. Everything and more. You are courageous and brave, you are noble and wise, you have intelligence beyond your years.. You are perfect to rule this land."

I looked up, and with a shudder, realized that my body was oh so close to Fyren's. It would just take one small movement to close the distance between our mouths... If I just slid an arm about his waist... As if sensing my thoughts, I felt Fyren slide an arm about my waist. I looked into his eyes, and closed the gap between our lips. 

After we had been kissing for a few moments, I heard a loud snorting, and someone clearing their throat. I pulled away, and found Flinn standing just a few feet away. He was glaring at Fyren with an expression I could only take to be hatred. 

Was he... Jealous? 

The End

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