“I don’t believe we’ve met,” Lady Imperos says, as I walk into the dining room. I’m dressed in Cai’s dress shirt and his pants, tied with a yellow silk sash from one of my gowns, so it doesn’t fall off my hips. Mr. Imperos speaks with Flint, barely glancing at me. 

“No, we haven’t got the chance,” I reply, and offer a hand to shake. She scowls at me, and ignores my hand, grabbing my shoulders, and turning me around, examining me. 

“Well, you’re pretty enough, but low-born,” She says blankly. “He talked about you a lot, constantly after he met you, like you were something special.” 

“That’s kind of rude,” I mumble. Lady Imperos reaches forward, and does one of my shirt buttons, so it’s higher up. “What are you doing?” I question. 

“He doesn’t need to make any bad choices against his better judgment for a simple low-born girl.” My eyes are wide. 

“Have you been paying attention? Your son became a criminal for me,” I gesture around wildly. “People have tried to get him over me, and it doesn’t ever work,” I say. She glares at me. 

“Where is my son?” She asks. 

“Upstairs. He’s resting. In the bed I just shared with him,” I answer with a cocky smile. 

His mother grabs my arm roughly. I stare her down, though she’s at least a half-foot taller than me, maybe more. Good thing I have my temper back. I open my mouth, and argue the way Dad taught me to.

“Look, it’s been a long day. I’ve reversed myself being brainwashed, avoided marrying a 300 year old possessive sadistic torture master, cut off someone’s hand, then watched the man I love get stabbed. And I’ve only had an hour and a half of a nap since this morning. Leave me alone.” 

“Stabbed?” Lady Imperos asks, her face white. 

“He’s healing now, but he’ll still be bedridden for several days,” I explain. Flint calls from the table. 

“Dinner!” He calls. I smile, and undo the top button on my shirt, walking past Lady Imperos to the table. 

“You’re Caden’s girlfriend, then?” Lord Imperos asks, and his wife glares at him. “What, Thessaly? Did I say something wrong?” 

“I don’t condone it,” Lady Imperos says, her arms folded.

“I’ll talk to him later, dear,” Imperos says, then continues talking to Flint. 

◈◈◈◈

“It’s nothing. Those hills have been smoking for years,” My dad says, as Flint, his new top advisor, is showing him a letter. Flint dismisses it, and the king keeps going over other stuff. 

“It’s bright in here,” I comment, as I walk into the room. My side aches, but the medicine dulls it a bit. Mom smiles and walks over, hugging me. 

“Prince Caden,” She says with a proud smile. “Ugh, why are you wearing your glasses, son?” She asks, reaching for them. I pull my head away. 

“I lost my contacts when Anders kidnapped me,” I answer. I’m not lying about this time. “Have you seen Ivvy?” I ask, looking around. Mom groans, her hands on her hips. 

“I don’t think she’s the best fit for you,” Mom says, shaking her head. 

“Well, I love her, so-” Mom cuts me off. 

“That’s a strong word, Caden. You’re eighteen,” She advises, patting my arm. I fold my own. 

“People keep reminding me of my age, I’m sure I know it by now,” I answer sarcastically. Mom sighs. 

“I was only eighteen when I married your father, Caden,” Mom tells me. 

“Okay, just because your marriage failed doesn’t mean mine will,” I hiss. She folds her arms. “I know you guys only got back together for political power.” Mom rolls her eyes. 

“That filthy Rust girl will never make a princess.” 

“Exactly, because the guy she’s dating isn’t a prince,” I retort. Mom gasps, and turns to Dad. 

“Leave it, Thessaly, he’ll cool down eventually,” Dad mutters. “Caden, go think about your actions, and then you’ll be respectful to your mother.” 

“The stables are always a good place to think,” Flint adds, and winks at me. I smirk, and leave the room. 

Poppy is gone from her stall when I arrive to the stables, so I climb on my usual horse, going to follow Olive’s path in the snow. I find her in the organized orchards behind the palace, looking up at the sky. 

“You’re wearing my clothes just every day now, then?” I ask, seeing my missing yellow dress shirt being worn over her black tank top. 

“They’re comfy, and you’re not using them, you’ve been on your deathbed for a week.” Olive says, smirking. 

“Well, they look better on you,” I tease. “Mom told me you’d never be a princess,” I say with a chuckle. 

“Well, I don’t really want to be one anyway. I’d be terrible at it, and I don’t want any more newspapers writing stuff about me.” She chuckles. “It’s kind of unavoidable, though, since we’re a thing, and you’re a prince.” 

“Well, I kind of got a great idea right before coming here,” I start, and Olive looks up. “I don’t think I want to be a prince.” Her jaw drops. She looks away, grinning, with her hand on her mouth after a bit. 

“Oh my gosh, I love you,” She says, and climbs off her horse, giggling as she walks around in the snow. The hems of my pants are rolled up plenty on her so they don’t drag. I climb off too, and she hugs me tightly, her eyes filled with tears. 

“Ewww,” Casey says, and I look over at her, walking with Teddy. “Cooties,” She tsks, shaking her head. 

“You’re holding hands with a boy, you’ve got cooties too,” Olive points out, and Casey shrugs. 

“Julia’s the only one safe from cooties,” Casey adds with a smile. “Have you seen her lately?” 

“Oh, she and Hazel left late last night, they both have responsibilities at home. Preparing Fire Division for those biannual smoke storms from the volcanoes,” Olive answers, then turns to me as her sister walks off. “Where’s Isaiah?” She asks me, tilting her head as she looks back over.

“He got himself free when Harrison had us imprisoned, and told me ‘every man for himself,’ before leaving,” I answer, shrugging. Olive nods, and puts her arms gently around my waist, looking up at me. 

“I’m sorry,” She says quietly, rubbing my back. 

“I had a little breakdown for a bit after he left, but everything’s fine,” I tell her quietly. The room was dark and luckily my hands were bound over my head, so I couldn’t scratch my arm. 

Olive looks down at my scars, and then hers, and reaches over, joining our hands and squeezing.

“Well, I’m not going to leave you,” She says, coming up on the tips of her toes, and kissing my cheek. “You’re super muscular lately,” She says with a laugh, flat on her feet again. A cold wind blows past. 

“Yeah, Flint told me to find a distraction when I thought you were dead, so I just worked out as much as I could,” I answer, swaying from side to side. 

“You’re so cute,” Olive says, laughing. I lean down and kiss her slowly, shaking my head. She grins and pulls me down by my collar so I’m closer. Fine, then. My turn. I pick Olive up by her legs, pulling her closer. She giggles and puts her arms around my shoulders, her nose tickling mine. “I missed you,” She mumbles, and kisses my cheek. 

“Technically you didn’t. You forgot we were a thing for two months,” I remind her. She smiles. 

“Worst two months of my life, without my best friend,” She says, and kisses my forehead, her fingers tangled in my hair. 

“I adore you,” I tell her, and she smiles brightly, nuzzling my ear. I turn my head and kiss her neck, closing my eyes. “You smell like my cologne, Olive,” I tell her, and she laughs. 

“That tends to happen when I’m sleeping in your bed every night and wearing your clothes,” Olive says, then sighs. “You’re really serious about giving up being a prince, if it comes to that?” She asks, brushing some fallen blonde hair out of her eyes. 

“Mostly. I hate politics, and I love you. It’s just leaving family that’s the issue,” I answer, then lower Olive to the ground. “Sorry. I really love you, and I’m trying to-” 

“No, I understand. I wouldn’t give my family for anything, even if Mo-” Olive pauses, looking away. “Well, I’m honestly really cool just being a secret forbidden affair or something. My only hope is that you love me.” 

“It’s not going to come to that, Olive,” I say with a chuckle. “I’ll talk to Mom about the whole issue, she’ll come around.” 

“I’m not sure about that, but you know her better than me, you grew up with her,” Olive says. She looks kind of sad. 

“Are you okay? I really don’t want you to be upset.” I rub her tiny hand. 

“I’m fine,” She says. “I’m really not upset with you, I- I’m just anxious. I don’t know what’s going to happen.” She bites the inside of her cheek. Snow starts to fall again. “I really should… get back,” She says, starting to shiver. I offer her my jacket, and she takes it, zipping it up. “I might take a nap. I just need to clear my head,” She tells me, fixing her hair. 

“I’ll try talking to my parents, while you sleep. Then do you think we can sneak out for dinner?” I ask. Please don’t be mad at me. 

“Okay,” Olive says, nodding. “I’d love to.” I nod, and we walk back to the palace in silence, her holding my hand. 

“Hey, can I talk with you?” I ask Mom, coming into the office. Flint nods, and leaves the office. Dad watches me. “I need to talk about Ivvy,” I start, but Mom walks over, putting her hands on my cold-flushed cheeks. 

“Oh, you were out in the cold, Caden, come sit by the fire, I hope you haven’t gotten pneumonia.” She pulls me over to the couch in front of the fire, and lifts up the corner of my shirt, poking my bandages. 

“Ow,” I mutter, pulling away. Mom has me sit on the couch. “Can we talk about Ivvy, or are you going to keep changing the subject?” I ask. She lifts my bandage just a bit, looking at my wound. 

“Nothing but trouble,” Mom mutters. Dad stands up, a glass of cider in his hand, and walks over. 

“The girl seems nice. I don’t know her very well,” Dad comments. 

“She’s friends with revolutionaries, Caden. People who would have our kind beheaded. Who would have you beheaded. I watched the news,” Mom says, bending over to examine my wound closer from beside me on the couch. 

“She’s not them. She’s friends with them because she’s nice,” I argue, and wince when Mom pinches something. “Besides her being born low, what do you have against her?” I ask. 

“No decency or manners,” Mom lists on her fingers. “She’s got a hot temper, I’ve heard her use the most colorful language, she’s hardly ever dressed appropriately, and she cut off someone’s hand, who knows what else?” She goes back to inspecting my wound. 

“I’m going to go get some rest,” I lie, and stand up. I just grab my book from my room, trying not to wake Ivvy when I go in. 

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