I carried another log to the fire, then sat on a fallen tree trunk to watch it burn. This night seemed to have gone on forever, and all I wished for was that it might end. Before long, Amarinda came to sit near me, and we watched the fire together. Something needed to be said, but I had no idea where to begin.

Open as the sky was around us, I suddenly felt closed in, and my heart raced, though I couldn’t be sure why. Was I angry? Not really, though I had every right to be. Hurt? Yes, though if she had believed me to be dead, her affections for Tobias weren’t intended to cause me any sadness. Perhaps I felt displaced, as if I belonged nowhere, and to nobody. In all the glory of being a king, I was still an unwanted orphan of the streets.

Finally, she said, “While you were with the pirates, Tobias spent a long time trying to help me understand you.”

I scoffed. “Yes, I can imagine that took many hours.”

“It was more like many days.” She smiled back at me, but not in a mocking way. I doubted she was capable of that sort of unkindness. “He told me that, back at Farthenwood, you once said you had no desire to be king. Was that true, or only part of your disguise as Sage?”

A quiet sigh escaped my lips. “Nothing I said at Farthenwood was more honest.”

“We’re very different people, Jaron, but in that one way, we’re so much alike. You never wanted the crown, nor did I. In fact, in all my life, I have never been asked what I wanted.”

How familiar that sounded. My own complaints weren’t so different.

She continued, “From the moment of my birth, I was a betrothed princess, destined for your brother. When I was old enough, I left my home in Bymar and came to live in Drylliad, to get to know Darius better. Eventually, I gave my emotions to him and anticipated a life of happiness at his side. Then one morning he was dead. Gone. And almost as quickly I was expected to put aside everything I ever felt for Darius, to pretend that I wasn’t completely hollow inside. On the same night that Darius’s murder was confirmed, I was suddenly faced with betrothal to another husband, to you. I know that’s how things had to be, but I don’t think anyone understood how hard it was to face you, looking so much like Darius and yet serving as a constant reminder that he was gone.”

“Please forgive me.” I felt selfish to my core, to have dwelled so much on my own wishes and frustrations that, for all this time, I had failed to consider the pain she must have felt.

“There’s nothing to forgive,” she said. “The betrothal wasn’t your desire any more than it was mine. Yet despite all that, we built a friendship. And then as the war began, you became the first to ever ask what I wanted for my life. To marry you, if I wanted, or to choose my own way. I thank you for that. In many ways, that is the most love anyone has ever shown me.” She drew in a slow breath, and then said, “You promised never to lie to me, correct?”

“Yes.”

“Then I must ask you a question and beg for your complete honesty.” When I nodded, she said, “Before we left the castle, Kerwyn suggested that you and I should marry. Why did you accept his suggestion?”

I hadn’t anticipated that question and, in fact, had barely thought about it since then. I struggled with finding the right words to answer her and finally said, “Because Kerwyn was right. If something happens to me during this war, it preserves your role as queen.”

She pressed her lips together and then said, “For you, is that reason enough to begin a marriage?”

In a perfect world, there would only be one reason for marriage, when two people loved each other more than their own lives. But there were other realities of life, often requiring partnerships to be formed for more practical reasons. Marriages to gain a provider or a cook or a companion were common, and for many people, that was enough. Amarinda and I were supposed to marry because of a treaty worked out between our families. Maybe people did marry for reasons other than love, but when I thought about it, a treaty was the most ridiculous reason of them all.

“No,” I said. “I would hope to marry for love, and no other reason.”

She scooted closer to me and I felt the warmth of her presence. When she spoke, her voice was low and gentle. “Jaron, do you love me?”

She might as well have asked me to solve the mysteries of the universe. I’d never asked myself that question because I’d never needed the answer. As part of the terms of returning to the throne, it had always been settled that I must marry the princess. Why question what must happen?

But that was it — I had always felt that I must marry her. Never had I wanted that.

“Of course I love you.” My words were like a confession, and it felt good to say them. “But as I would a sister, or a dearest friend. I am not in love with you.” And with those words, any anger I had felt toward her and Tobias vanished. I could not blame her for withholding emotions that I did not feel either. And if I truly felt any affection for her, then her wishes would be my priority. I had to accept that her happiness came from someone other than me.

The tension in her released as well. “Tobias does not have your wit with words or strength with a sword. But he is good and kind, and I am myself when I’m with him.”

I couldn’t deny any of that. My opinion of Tobias had been dismal when we first met, but once he and I came to an understanding, he had served me as loyally as anyone could. Better still, he had become the truest of friends.

I said, “With his intelligence and his position as a regent, he should give you a comfortable life, though not a royal one.”

She shrugged. “The life of a princess was a grand gift from the king of my country. But it was one I never asked for.”

“You always fit the role perfectly.”

“I will fit my new role well too. Because Tobias is a regent, if we marry, the treaty between our countries will remain secure.”

Which was good to know, if I had a country left after this war ended. I took Amarinda’s hand and kissed it, less saddened by her rejection than I would have expected. Perhaps it wasn’t possible for her to break my heart because she had never held it. Or perhaps my heart was already in too many pieces from another greater loss.

I faked a smile that covered those heavy thoughts. “Tobias may be out there wondering if I’m going to order his execution. I think it might be fun to make him believe it.”

“I doubt whether he’d enjoy that joke as much as you do.” Amarinda’s expression was serious, but I was sure I caught a small twinkle in her eye.

Eventually, Mott and Tobias returned. Mott stopped at the edge of camp, seeking permission to rejoin us. I guessed he had spoken to Tobias while they were gone. For, rather than entering, Tobias knelt where he was, with his head down. If he suspected I was angry enough to order his beheading, that wasn’t the smartest position for him to take.

I walked over to Tobias, who said, “The darkest day of my life was when they told us you were dead. Please believe that, Jaron.”

“I do. And I have only gratitude for all you did to help the princess once you heard that news. My blessings to you both.”

Tobias lifted his head and smiled at Amarinda, who beamed back at him. She turned to me. “Thank you, my lord. Then may I extend my wishes for you and Imogen? Wherever she is now, she loves you, Jaron. She is meant for you.”