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Chapter Text

Freen watched the kingdom's land's from her balcony, the majestic sunlight touching the domains that had belonged to her family for centuries now.

She sighed, thinking of how much history had already passed through her, and would continue to pass on through many others.

At least, that's what she wanted to believe.

An unexpected knock on the door startled her, reminding the princess just how inconsequential she had been to allow herself to be distracted like this.

She quickly moved away from the balcony, wiping her sweaty hands on the skirt fluttering in the wind.

"Your highness?"

A low and familiar voice invaded the large room, making her heart slow its race.

"You may come in."

One of her maids watches her carefully, holding a dress covered in long fabrics.

"The Queen herself asked me to give you this. She said you should wear it tonight."

Freen takes her time to recognise the dress, but when she does… She feels her eyes dance in anxious discomfort.

What was her mother thinking?

Freen clenches her hands into fists at her sides, trying to hold back the anger and contain her irritation. Her words, however, come out subdued, years of etiquette training having made her an excellent actress, perfectly capable of camouflaging her emotions.

"What is exactly going on?"

Ivy, the lady who for years used to be the first to look after Freen's needs, is visibly embarrassed at not knowing the answers her Mistress was looking for.

Freen sighs in irritation.

"Please, bring Rebecca here."

"Of course, my Princess."

Freen doesn't even have time to ask her to take back the dress, which ends up being left on her bed before she hears the door closing gently. Inspecting it quickly, her suspicions are confirmed as soon as she finds the golden thread wrapped around the sleeve, a sign of her family's tradition.

She just didn't expect to be the last to know about this.

She hated being surprised or contradicted about her decisions.

She contemplated ripping the dress with her bare hands just in the moment the door was opened again... And all of her resolve vanished just like that.

As it always happened when she came face to face with the mysteriously disconcerting image of Rebecca Armstrong.

Someone who was hired to do her personal security, in dark times like this, but who every day became a different enigma in Freen's eyes.

Today, for example, Freen wondered why she felt so strangely nervous when she was in the same room as her.

Her own chest seemed to expand differently, and breathing was no longer a natural act.

"You called for me, Your Highness."

Rebecca bowed slightly, as did the charming smile on her lips, and Freen's idiotic heart responded with a shameful leap.

Scraping her throat, the princess moves a little closer, beckoning her in.

"I told you to stop calling me that." Rebecca only nods in a restrained manner, her smile making her face even more attractive, as if that were possible. "Do you happen to know what my parents are planning for today?"

Finally the smile falls from her lips and Freen, shaking off from her spell, manages to divert her attention back to the stunning dress on her bed, sensing the atmosphere weighing down .

"You knew, didn't you?"

Freen notices Rebecca's gaze harden a little as the woman looks closely at the dress. The lack of surprise in her expression, however, confirms her suspicions.

"Why didn't you tell me? I thought you were on my side more than theirs!"

"Princess..." Rebecca begins, but is cut off by Freen's sharp gaze. She quickly corrects herself. "Freen, of course I'm with you, but this..."

She swallows dryly and moves closer, running a hand nervously through her coppery hair. Freen didn't want to, but ended up wondering what it would be like to touch it in a caress.

Would it be as soft as it looked?

"This is bigger than me. I can't interfere with the King's plans for his daughter and his kingdom."

Freen became even more irritated, moving dangerously closer, her eyes flaring with nervous sparks as she danced her eyes across Rebecca's irritatingly perfect face.

"So you agree that I should get married?!" She tilts her head to the side in disbelief. "Do you agree that I can only be safe with a man by my side? That I can't deal with the Rebels on my own, and I need to be married to rule this land?"

Her eyes water and her emotions seems to press a key in Rebecca, who until that moment had tried to restrain herself in her comments and actions. But that's when Freen feels firm, warm hands on her face, bringing their eyes to the same level.

Her surprise and tachycardia are so great that she feels the words melting in her brain.

"Of course I don't believe in that." Sighing, she reluctantly releases Freen, stepping back to point at the crest on her left arm, a symbol of honor on the uniform she wore. "Do you think your father would trust me with your life if he wasn't sure I could look after you?"

Still motionless, Freen blinked, trying to make her thoughts spin faster than the twists and turns in her heart.

It was pathetic what was happening to her.

"So why this now? What's the point of doing this circus, of promoting an event like this to get me a fiancé?"

Rebecca seems tormented for a moment, closing her eyes for a few seconds before opening them to look at the landscape from the balcony. Time slows down a little, and Freen once again wonders if magic was also taught abroad, where Rebecca had come from.

"We have to admit that the Rebels are making more alliances with every day, Freen." She suddenly stands behind the princess, close enough for Freen to feel her warmth on her back. "See that windmill?"

She positions herself so that she's pointing over Freen's shoulder, whispering close to her cheek so that the information stays just between the two of them.

At least that's what Freen was telling herself.

"I've been mapping that region for three months now. And believe me, Rebel cells have already left their disgusting footprints there... Yes, they're closer than you think."

Freen bites the insides of her cheek, feeling an avalanche of things in her chest. Her ragged breathing was enough of a sign.

"And how exactly a marriage could help us with that?"

Rebecca didn't make Freen turn to her, but instead came to stand face to face with the princess once more. The extreme respect she always had for her both amused and annoyed Freen.

It was as if she didn't allow herself to touch her as she would have liked.

"Your father believes that we should create alliances too... And if I may say so, wars are in fact made in the midst of alliances. I can't argue with that."

Freen frowned, feeling a twinge of discomfort in her chest. She was trying to distinguish the expert in war tactics Rebecca from the person she clearly had deeply confused feelings for.

"And it's only possible to make alliances through marriages? I thought you had more modern thoughts than that."

Unexpectedly, like everything else she does, Rebecca smiles. That's enough to break Freen once again.

"The monarchy isn't exactly the most modern institution, is it?" Freen feels Rebecca's eyes roam over her face, and feels herself burn once more. "Your father was probably already thinking of proposing a ball like this, but he sped things up under this circumstances."

Then she looks once more at the image of the kingdom beneath their feet, the afternoon fading with every minute they continued to share almost whispered words in each other's personal space.

"And why everyone knew about this ball but me?"

"Your father thinks that the less you know, the safer you will be." Rebecca finally says, turning back to face Freen, who is now looking at her incredulously. "Which doesn't mean I agree with him at all."

Freen lets these words weigh down on her brain and reflects on every possible meaning for it.

"So you don't agree with this stupidity arrangement?"

Rebecca takes her time to reply, one hand once again shaking her hair in a hypnotic motion. The high collar of the blouse she was wearing slightly concealed the neck Freen sometimes observed to watch when it turned red.

She loved reading Rebecca's reactions.

"I don't think any of those men deserve you."

Freen raised one eyebrow, gasping. Several questions danced in her mind at that moment.

"May I ask how many of them are coming?"

Rebecca swallows dryly, sniffling. Freen thinks she's finally seen the discomfort she'd been expecting when talking about that subject.

"Three?"

Rebecca denies it, then speaks softly:

"Eight."

Freen lets out a surprised sound, truly surprised.

Rebecca rolls her eyes, hiding her clasped hands behind her body.

"Don't act like it's surprising. You're the most beautiful young princess in the whole of the East Chain... Of course there would be several suitors."

Freen's head was beginning to ache, but the blush on her face didn't seem to have anything to do with it.

Then something came back to her.

"And How could you know? I mean… Did you meet them?"

Rebecca notices Freen's uncomfortable face and steps forward, gently pulling her onto the bed. She takes enough care to push her dress aside before leading her to sit down, standing in front of her and leaning slightly towards the matress.

Freen couldn't remember ever being as nervous around someone as she was at that moment.

"Of course I met with them. I couldn't let them near you if they posed any risk."

Freen sighs, feeling her heart drop again. Nothing made sense, nothing really seemed to fulfil the ridiculous expectations that all of this could represent something different.

She was tired and really hurt.

"And what am I supposed to do, then? What do all of you expect from me? That I'll look at one of them and feel so completely in love that I'll want to be with them for the rest of my life?"

Rebecca's gaze suddenly became so deep that it rekindled the flame that's burning in Freen chest. She seemed disturbed by what she had just heard.

So she ended up benting down even more, placing a hand on either side of Freen's thighs. Their faces are now close, and the princess can feel her breath when she speaks:

"I shouldn't say that." Freen feels delicate, gentle fingers slide a few hairs from her face. Her breathing stops and her chest heaves in desperation, feeling the scent of nutmeg invade her system, addicting her. "I desperately don't want you to do that."

Freen's breathing trembled, making her emit a shameful noise. But she couldn't control her reactions, so she moved closer, touching their foreheads and only leaving a few millimetres between their noses.

"What should I do then?" Freen holds the back of Rebecca's head, visibly surprising the older woman. Their eyes didn't leave each other's for a second.

"I don't know." Rebecca assumes defeatedly, clenching her hands into fists on the mattress next to Freen. The princess knew she was trying to restrain herself from touching her. "But I won't leave your side. No matter what."

Freen could see all the determination in Rebecca's now almost green eyes. And the strength she heard in her tone was so powerful that she felt herself break a little more.

"Promise me?" Freen brings their faces even closer, despite the fear she felt that she would be overstepping boundaries and misreading all of this.

"I promise."

Chapter Text

As a child, Freen dreamt of a night like this.

From the top of the stairs, she would watch the people of her kingdom gathering, splendid music would play and striking decorations would embrace the moment when she would be introduced to the most important boys of the East Chain.

Her feelings at this very moment, however, couldn't be more averse to all of these things.

Panning around the room, her eyes met those of her father, who was staring at her with a certain admiration and anxiety. Then she took a long breath, trying to encourage herself when she saw the familiar faces of her friends gathered near the orchestra.

She walked slowly towards the staircase.

Every step she took, however, seemed to draw more attention from the guests, and as her feet finally touched the porcelain tiles of the hall, she could tell that every pair of eyes in this place was set on her.

Her palms began to sweat again, and her eyes wandered around nervously.

"Your Highness."

A soothing voice surprised her, speaking softly in her ear. Freen turns around immediately, perhaps not in the most elegant way, to see Rebecca strategically positioned behind her back.

She was wearing a different uniform this time, much more pompous and appropriate for the evening. It was red, and a small silver crown adorned her chest, symbolizing that she was at the king's service. Her hair was loose, and cascaded down to shoulder height, its twists gracefully adorning Rebecca's truly impressive angelic contours.

She was spectacularly beautiful.

"You're..." Freen watches Rebecca's eyes dancing sweetly across her face before traveling slowly down her body. Freen feels herself blushing shamefully. "You have to be the most beautiful person I've ever seen in my life."

Freen feels like taking another step towards her, wanting to enter her orbit for good, but she knows she can't. So she just tilts her head a little, blinking slowly so that she doesn't miss out too much on the impressive image of her guardian angel.

Frowning, she tries to disguise how shaken up she was by her comment.

"Thank you." Freen has the urge to look away, her vision suddenly blurring amidst the clarity of the smile she receives. "But it's a shame I’m wasting this dress on a night like this."

The frustration in her tone is obvious, and she turns to face the hall full of admiring and curious faces.

"It can't be that bad to have a party like this." Freen could clearly see the relaxation in Rebecca's voice. She knew she was just trying to cheer her up. "Besides, your friends would kill for the chance to dance with these... gentlemen."

Freen glanced nervously at some of them, their characteristic attire reminding her of what was about to happen.

"You know I just wanted to be in my library right now."

She turns once more to the older woman, glaring at her fiercely.

"I know." Rebecca acquiesced, nodding carefully. "But we can't always have what we want."

Their eyes connect for a few long seconds. Freen's heart aches with the bittersweetness of her tone and everything that was implied in that sentence.

Unable to cope with the storm brewing inside of her, Freen insinuates taking another step towards the rest of the hall when she is gently kept in her spot by a soft hand on her arm.

Rebecca always held her as if she might break at any moment.

"I'm going to stay away from you tonight." Freen faces her immediately, her questioning eyes piercing Rebecca's. "Your father asked me to give you more space so that you could talk more privately to... whoever you wanted."

Frozen, Freen feels the tension emanating from both their bodies, thousands of thoughts shared at that moment as the song came to an end.

Rebecca hastens to conclude:

"Which doesn't mean I won't be watching you the whole time." The caress of Rebecca's thumb sliding along Freen's wrist tickles her heart. Freen feels like melting like a puddle right there. "My eyes won't leave you, and I'll be by your side in a second if you need me”.

The power Rebecca had over her was so impressive that the sight of the woman moving away immediately made Freen feel different.

As if her magnetism was pulling them together and separating them was, in every way, unnatural.

Swallowing dryly, feeling a lump in her throat, she takes long, coordinated steps towards the centre of the hall, the buzzing she hears making her senses work tirelessly.

But her eyes were now set on her parents.

Her determined steps are watched by them.

"My child, you look so beautiful."

Her mother's voice sounded thrilled, and Freen clenched her teeth in disguise, trying to pretend she wasn't boiling with anger underneath it all.

"Thanks to you, right mother?" Freen's smile seemed sincere, but it overflowed with resentment. "I didn't even get to choose the dress."

Fyer, the queen who sat on the perfectly carved throne, closed her eyes slightly, only now seeming to realize her daughter's acid humor.

"We knew you wouldn't co-operate with this, dear." Her father, Afor II, intervenes in the conversation. They were both smiling, the image of the royal family together certainly catching the eyes of most of those present.

"I think I have a reason no to.”

Afor's sigh disturbs Freen. She didn't usually defy or went against her father's decisions.

"We want what’s good for you, dear. Marrying now, as well as building bridges for us, will show the Heiners that our Kingdom thrives in the midst of the Rebels' inconsequential attacks." The king twirled his jeweled ring between his fingers. "It will be much harder to destabilize us if we strengthen ourselves beyond our borders."

Freen shook her head in annoyance. She couldn't believe that her life spent studying would be reduced to a marriage. A marriage that would most definitely take away her ability to decide for herself what she thought was best for her own kingdom.

"I don't want that, Father! I have the right to not want to do it!"

Fyer looked worried about the attention they were getting, and tried to signal for them to keep their voices down, when Afor, red-faced, replied:

"No, you have no rights here. I am your father and, more than that... I am the King. You're well aware that things always go as I want them to."

Stunned, Freen doesn't even have time to react. Someone stops beside her, demanding her attention.

He was tall, slender, with straight black hair that sometimes fell in front of his black eyes. Freen only felt her stomach respond in discomfort to the boy's mechanical smile.

Afor's answer, however, kept hammering away in her head.

Where had he got such rudeness from?

"Excuse me, Your Majesties, I would like to formally introduce myself. My name is Phinneas and I come from..."

Freen's mind wandered, absorbed in her anxiety, and failed to register any words spoken until she was surprised by a hand on her arm.

The touch startled her and she quickly repelled the contact.

"Excuse me." The boy seems as frightened as she is now, but he tries again. "Will you dance with me, princess?

Still a little breathless, Freen was trying to think of an excuse when the King's voice decided for her once more.

"Of course she will."

Furious at her father's authority, Freen stares at him for a few seconds but is eventually led to the dance floor by a cautious hand on her back.

"It's an honour to have you by my side."

What was his name again? Philip? Phin? The boy looked nervous as he stretched out his arms to start the dance, and Freen just nodded in response to his comment, following his movements on automatic. As she felt their hands touch, however, she wished she could run away.

His sweat was bothering her and making her own hands wet.

Despite this, Freen tried to free herself from her judgements and moved a little closer to him, beginning to sway to the rhythm of the song. And everything seemed to be flowing reasonably well when her eyes, which were roaming the faces in the room, found the pair she was looking for.

Rebecca was staring at them, never allowing her eyes to leave her even in the midst of the pirouettes and turns that Phin led her through throughout the song. Her unquestioning attention set on her finally made Freen feel like a teenager on a first date.

Freen sighs defeatedly.

She couldn't believe she would have to deal with seven more of these pathetic scenes over the course of the evening while the person who truly made her heart beat faster just stared at her, at meters away.

And Freen had every intention of continuing to contemplate the sight of Rebecca in her formal uniform, looking like a real painting against the yellowish light of the salon counter, when she notices someone approaching the older woman, saying something in her ear.

The interaction seems important, as Rebecca immediately turns around and retreats beyond the realms of the princess's vision.

Freen frowns, wondering what could have happened to make her leave her spot so quickly without even casting a single glance at the princess.

"Did I do something to upset you, Princess?"

Freen's attention is brought back to the monotony that she was stuck in, and she only briefly denies it after a programmed smile.

"Absolutely not. I just thought I saw something."

The duke nods, repositioning his hand on the princess's waist. Freen clenches her fist on his shoulder.

"Tell me, Freen, which embroidery do you prefer? Russian or cross-stitch?"

Freen wrinkles her forehead severely this time, seeming to really look at the boy for the first time.

"Pardon?"

His restrained smile grows weaker.

"Don't you like embroidery?" He glances quickly down at his feet before facing her again. "I assumed you did, since my sister is also interested in it..."

Freen can't hide the ironic laugh that just comes out of her mouth.

"With so many potentially interesting questions to ask a woman, you choose to know what kind of embroidery stitch I like?" Freen hears the last notes of the song approaching and breathes a little easier, although anger bubbles up in her blood. "Surely because you think a woman wouldn't have opinions on more relevant matters, such as the challenges of the conflicts we face or..."

"In no way did I mean to offend you, Princess, I just..."

A delicate hand suddenly places itself on her back, and Freen immediately knows who it belongs to. Her posture suddenly falls apart and her senses spin around her heaving chest, watching Rebecca's serious face.

"I need you to come with me, Princess."

Freen tried to identify in Rebecca's tone what could possibly be the nature of the conversation.

The Duke eyed Rebecca suspiciously.

"Excuse me, but..."

Rebecca stepped closer this time, ignoring the man's protests, making the hairs on Freen's arm bristle as she spoke into her ear.

"We need to leave discreetly. Meet me in the east corridor in three minutes."

And, just like that, she's gone again.

Freen's heart began to beat wildly as her own thoughts created scenarios to justify her guard's atypical attitude.

Were they under attack right now? Or about to be under one?

Freen's eyes scanned the sea of people around her, calming down a little when she saw her parents distracted in a conversation with the representatives of the near nations.

"Princess? Are you all right?"

A little dizzy indeed, but taking advantage of that to excuse herself and walk away, Freen replied:

"Not really, I'm sorry. I just need to get some air for a moment... Excuse me."

Freen can practically feel the stares on her back as she walks away from the hall, so she takes long, hurried steps, anxious to be near Rebecca to feel safe once again.

When she meets her, however, she doesn't expect to see such a somber expression on her face.

Fearful, her steps became more cautious until their gazes met, Freen's body centimeters away from the older woman. And Freen was just about to tell her how happy she was to be there alone with her when a deafening noise took over the palace, causing her hearing to emit an irritating buzz for a few seconds.

Freen felt Rebecca pulling her immediately to herself, using her arms to protect the princess's head as she leaned them quickly against a wall. The princess clings to the warm body around her, trying to hide her head in her neck as she starts to tremble.

"What... What's happening?"

A hand was slowly stroking across her back, and Freen tried to cling to the comfort of it.

Rebecca sighs heavily after fully inflating her lungs.

"It's an invasion. The Rebels are storming into the palace right now."

Suddenly Freen's world collapses and her legs lose their strength. Were it not for Rebecca's tight grip around her, she would have fallen and collapsed to the floor. Tears suddenly filled her eyes and all she could think about was in her parents, family and friends still gathered in that hall.

She tries to break away from Rebecca, who only holds her tighter.

"Let me go, Rebecca! Please! My family is still there, we have to do something!" Her crying intensifies, as does the tightness around her body. "Where are the other guards?!"

Suddenly Freen hears the sound of swords at the end of the corridor and her vision is immediately diverted to the fight taking place right in front of them. Her soldiers, in clothes similar to Rebecca's, were fighting against hooded people, who were far outnumbered.

"Freen, listen to me." Suddenly Rebecca was holding her face, making her look at her torned one. Although firm against her skin, her touch was still gentle and delicate, long fingers sliding her jaw in a disguised caress. "Nothing's going to happen to you. You have to keep trusting me in this."

Freen tried to concentrate on Rebecca's always soft, velvety voice, but the screams and howls of pain coming from the battle taking place just a few meters away frightened her.

"Freen."

This time the princess saw clearly, and for the first time since she had met her, a different emotion appeared in the older woman's eyes:

Fear.

"Please… Forgive me."

Without having time to even consider her request, or the motivation behind it, Freen hears hurried footsteps approaching them.

All her limbs freeze, and she is paralyzed.

Rebecca holds her tighter one last time before slowly releasing her, taking care, however, to keep her propped against the wall while still keeping an arm around her waist if she needed support.

"Armstrong!"

Freen, confused, watched the interaction between the Rebels and the woman who was still holding her. They seemed to know each other.

It was then that Freen saw Rebecca nodding back in recognition.

The princess's eyes widen.

"I see you've accomplished your mission yet again... You really are unstoppable, aren’t you?"

Freen feels the bile returning up her esophagus and bends over, feeling Rebecca's fingers on her waist now burning like hot coals.

The pain in her chest makes her breath catch in her throat.

"Is the other Division already on the west side of the Palace?"

Rebecca was still talking close to her, and Freen couldn't believe that she still dared to touch and stay close to her like that. So she struggles vigorously in her embrace and ends up escaping the arms of a traitor.

Her freedom, however, only lasts a few seconds. She feels much heavier and coarser arms around her, holding her so tight that she almost loses what little air was left in her lungs.

"Don't hurt her!" Rebecca's order and desperation are so powerful that the grip immediately loosens around her waist. Rebecca's disturbingly beautiful eyes, now furious, stared dangerously at all the Rebels surrounding the princess. "Listen to me... You will take the princess to safety and you will not touch a single strand of her hair, do you understand me?"

Freen stared at her feet, her heart aching in so many possible ways that the agony was now unbearable.

Take her? Where would they take her?

And Rebecca wouldn't go with them? Although betrayed and absurdly hurt, with her heart broken, still, an irrational part of her knew that she wouldn't hurt her.

Freen then felt a soft touch on her face again, one that used to burn deliciously against her skin, but now made her cry and suffer like never before.

"Freen." Rebecca approaches her face, looking at her with such avidity and care that the princess feels compelled to close her eyes. She had no right to play with her feelings like that. "I'll explain everything to you. I promise you. But now you have to go with them."

Freen despairs, trying once again to escape the grip of the brute who held her as he led her away.

Away from the palace. Away from her family. Away from... Rebecca.

"Freen… Please."

The pain in Rebecca's voice makes Freen feel more than ever.

And it's because of all this overflowing, aching feeling inside of her that she screams, feeling herself burning:

"I hate you!"

And then exhaustion overtakes her, the sight of a motionless Rebecca, looking at her with deep sadness being the last image she sees before the world fades away around her.

Chapter Text

Freen awakens in a flash, breathing rapidly while scanning her surroundings with alarmed eyes.

The sight of an unfamiliar tiny room, partially lit by an artificial light, is enough to make her realize that the scenes in her head were not part of a nightmare.

She really had been taken away from her family, her home, by a group of... Rebels.

And Rebecca had helped them.

Freen trembled, clutching the frayed sheets beneath her so tightly that she notices her fingers turning white.

The rage she is feeling is no greater than the absurdly painful notion that she had been betrayed by someone she held in such high regard. The hole in her chest seemed to grow as she remembers all the secrets and confidences they had shared.

Freen had trusted and respected Rebecca so much that she had practically gone blind.

And now she felt so stupid and foolish that the first tears began to roll down her cheeks in a steady stream. The palms of her hands suddenly shook on the mattress and Freen stood up, practically running for the door, feeling claustrophobic in this place.

She had no idea what time it was.

As soon as she tried to open the door, she was surprised by the lock.

Her sigh is short, and it only takes one more resigned glance around the room for her to gather her courage and start pounding frantically on the metal surface.

"Get me out of here!" Her punches were echoing through the walls. Freen couldn't believe she was behaving like this, like a savage. "Help! Get me out of here!"

A few more seconds later, and just when she thought they had left her there, the princess heard footsteps approaching quickly.

"What is it, little princess? Is something bothering you?"

Freen bit the inside of her cheek, blood rushing to her head as she heard the iron voice of a petulant woman.

"I demand that you open this door immediately!"

A loud laugh pierces Freen's ears and anger bubbles in her blood.

"Ah, well, the princess demands something." Suddenly, locks seem to be released from outside and Freen takes a step back, away from the unknown out there. "Of course I must obey your orders, Your Highness."

At this point, Freen's vision is partially obscured as her pupils adjust to the sudden influx of light. Once adjusted, however, the image of a woman appeared disturbingly in front of her.

She had straight, long, blonde hair and could have been a model for the Jeminer tailor, Freen's personal acquaintance, were it not for some scars the princess sees on her body.

Even there were a few tiny ones on her face.

A beautiful face, but completely hostile and averse to Freen's presence.

"Do you have any idea where you are, Princess?"

Freen lifted her chin, trying not to show how frightened she was by this woman's ruthless aura.

"Surely in the lair of you… Rebels."

Another laugh, less sour this time, reached Freen's ears. She sensed that the woman's energy was completely unstable.

"Rebecca told me you were very intelligent. But that doesn't seem to be true... Or would it be too brave of you to insult me like that when you're so helpless, Princess?"

Rebecca.

The mention of that name made Freen gasp and her heartbeat quicken. Her stupid subconscious still associated her with some notion of safety and comfort, which Freen desperately needed right now.

The sigh in her throat is both anguished and uncontrolled as she tries to break that association from her mind.

"What do you want from me?"

Freen felt herself freeze as she saw the woman's gaze on her, as if she looked at her with disgust.

"Don't worry, you're already doing your part by staying here in our... Lair."

The sneer is frightening, and Freen finally reacts, taking another step forward.

"Let me out of here."

The Rebel's fingers drum on her own arms before she crosses them, extending her arm toward the corridor she came from as if to lead the way.

"For some reason, I know Rebecca wouldn't want me to keep you locked up here for too long, so it's your lucky day, girl." Freen doesn't wait for her to change her mind and steps forward through the door. "If it were up to me tho, you'd spend a few more days in there."

The sour remark sends a shiver down Freen's spine, but her attention is suddenly drawn back to where she was heading to.

Like a subway station, a few corridors connected doors and more distant halls through which several people passed.

Freen watched them walk with purpose, as if each of them had a role to play in making it all work. Most of them hadn't noticed her yet, which meant...

An extremely loud whistle from the woman next to her startles them and Freen jumps.

"Attention everyone, please!"

The woman quickly gets all eyes on her, including those of the people in the station above.

"If the red dress wasn't telling enough, we have royalty here." She points at Freen. "The distinguished and graceful... Princess Freen."

Gasps and surprised looks came from everywhere, but Freen was now almost apathetic to this.

"Yeah, yeah, I don't have time to take care of you like a nanny." With that, she searches for someone with her eyes, watching the sea of people until she seems to find the one she's looking for.

"Nam, come here, now!"

Freen sees a woman, a little smaller than her, approaching them. The princess automatically shrinks back, on high alert for any movement in her direction.

"Yes, ma'am."

Her voice was calm and gentle.

"I need you to keep an eye on our little princess here... Take her wherever you want, since Rebecca has ordered you not to lock her up, but don't leave her alone for a minute. Do you understand me?"

Freen watched Nam nod briefly, but her thoughts wandered to a certain name the woman mentioned again.

Rebecca.

She seemed to be someone of considerable influence there. And the woman who now walked away from her with a determined stride clearly had a deep respect for her.

"Princess?"

Freen heard Nam call out and was surprised by the still friendly tone. She had expected to be treated like a prisoner in this place.

"Would you like a bath? I'll get you some new clothes, I imagine that dress isn't very comfortable."

Freen takes advantage of her seemingly communicative nature to ask anxiously:

"What am I doing here? How long will I be locked up?"

Nam's eyes widen at the questions, and she gestures with her arm, asking the princess to accompany her down the corridor.

"I can't give you those answers." They walked through a lobby that seemed to divide into even more long corridors. The place was impressively large and felt like a labyrinth.

Freen regretted it inwardly. She would have to learn a lot more about this place before she could think about escaping.

"Are you planning to... kill me?"

Freen hears a surprised gasp and suddenly Nam opens a door, signaling her to enter a room.

"Of course not, Princess! Rebecca would never allow such a thing!"

Up until that moment, Freen had tried not to ask directly, but the way everyone seemed to keep mentioning Rebecca made her both curious and angry.

"Is Rebecca your leader by any chance? And where is she anyway?"

Nam seems tormented, unsure what to say or not. Then she decides to walk around the room, so that Freen finally pays attention to the new place.

It was much more spacious and comfortable than the cell she have been in before. The room had a huge bed and was perfectly organized with grey sheets.

Freen also observes a closet, and its glass structure allows her to see the clothes carefully stored inside.

"All I can say is that Rebecca takes care of all of us." Freen turns to look at Nam, who follows her gaze. "I know this must be scary for you right now, but if everything Rebecca told us about you is true, you'll see how much better it will be for you in the long run."

Furious, Freen turns her full attention to Nam, her flaming eyes fixed on her strangely welcoming brown ones.

"How can you say that the best thing for me is to be kidnapped and taken away from everything I know and care about?"

Nam nodded knowingly, stepping forward to open the closet and pull out a set of clothes.

"I understand how this situation must seem to you, but I ask you to trust Rebecca and listen to what she has to say when she arrives. She is fair and would never harm you."

Freen's heart squeezed in agony, filled with doubt and resentment. How could she trust someone who had practically plunged a knife into her heart?

"What's so different about me?" Freen closed her eyes and felt a tear trickle down her cheek. "Or did you Rebels bring other people from the palace?"

Suddenly, Freen selfishly allows herself to believe that she wasn't there alone.

"You're the only one here, Princess."

Nam's tone is calm, but she somehow seems to understand her feelings.

"I'll let you shower and change now. The bathroom has hot water and everything you need. I'll be down the hall and will take you to the cafeteria as soon as you're done here."

With that she left, closing the metal door, leaving Freen with more questions than answers.

First, she had met a possible ex-combatant who seemed to have no problem in killing her. Now, she was dealing with a woman who seemed kind enough to care about her feelings.

And what they both had in common was an undeniable admiration and respect for Rebecca, leading Freen to believe that she was indeed a very important figure here.

But... where was she?

Memories of her face filled Freen's mind. Was she gone fighting for the rebels or was she still keeping up the facade as a royal guardian right now?

The fact was, she seemed to be the only one who could give her the answers she needed. Freen just doesn't know how to control her intensely conflicting feelings when she would come face to face with her.

Gathering her courage and strength, Freen took the clothes Nam had sorted and went to the bathroom, impressed by what she found.

Of course, it was nothing like the bathroom in her own room, but it was comfortable enough. Some towels were laid out in the cupboard and Freen was surprised to see the soap.

It was the only one she could use, the only one that didn't cause irritation and allergies on her skin.

Freen thought it might be a coincidence, but the most plausible explanation was that it had to do with Rebecca's influence here.

And what should have warmed her heart, at least for a second, only served to push her further over the edge. It meant that Rebecca had been planning her kidnapping all along.

Enraged, the princess gets into the shower after struggling to get rid of her long dress, and has the impression that she spends about fifteen minutes uninterrupted under the shower, trying to wash away the heavy, dirty feeling that has been with her since she woke up.

And then her thoughts turn to her parents. How would they be? Where would they be? Tensions with the rebels had risen in recent months, but Freen was sure, from what little she could hear of the war discussions, that they didn't foresee a direct attack on their noses in the near future.

They had underestimated the skill and intelligence of the rebels.

Freen suddenly hits the wall, making her hand hurt badly. Cursing, she brings her fingers to her heart and bends over, feeling her eyes fill with tears for the fourth time that day.

Tired of feeling like a helpless victim, the princess dressed in neutral clothes, a comfortable outfit that fortunately didn't have grey in its colors, and combed her hair to look a little better in the mirror.

Not knowing how to act or what to do, the emptiness settling in her chest, she goes to the bedroom door and reaches for the latch.

Surprisingly, the door was open this time.

Nam was waiting for her on the other side of the corridor, and Freen inexplicably felt her heart calming at the sight of her ever-warm and sincere smile.

"Glad you changed, Princess. Now come, I'll take you to the cafeteria."

Freen's stomach squirms at the prospect of food, making her nauseous.

"I don't want to eat." Something in that sentence doesn't seem right and Freen has to add: "Thank you.”

Nam looks at her amused for a second and insists again, indicating that they should go.

"Come on, you'll be surprised by how good the food is here. And you have to eat something."

Resigned, Freen allows herself to follow her just to get to know more about this place, but she definitely wouldn't eat.

For all of her life, she had been strictly told not to eat outside of the palace. She simply could not eat unless the food had been properly tested for poison.

Which, in the context Freen was in, was quite a plausible thing to happen.

As soon as they arrived at what Freen thought was the cafeteria, they attracted the attention of some of the people standing around.

"Could you please tell me what time is it? I hate having no sense of time."

Nam nods and reaches into her pocket for something. A watch.

"17h34"

Freen closes her eyes. Almost 24 hours have passed since she had been kidnapped.

"Now come, today we have..."

Nam gently pulls at her arm just at the moment the woman who first spoke to Freen returns, this time with a broad smile on her face.

"May I ask why you are so happy, Marjorie?"

The woman Freen now knew to be Marjorie looked at her briefly and frowned, then went back to talking to Nam.

"Let's all welcome Rebecca in the main hall. She arrived."

Chapter Text

Freen’s breath quickened as Marjorie’s words echoed in her mind. Rebecca had returned. She had been desperate to see her again, to confront her, to demand answers. But now, standing on the threshold of the cafeteria, uncertainty gnawed at her insides.

Nam, noticing Freen’s hesitation, gently touches her arm. “Are you okay, Princess?”

Freen swallows hard, nodding as she forces her feet to move, but not saying a word.

The main hall was bustling with activity, but as soon as Freen, Marjorie and Nam entered, all eyes turned in their direction. The whispers and stares were unbearable, and Freen felt like she was on display, being watched as if she was some exotic animal.

But nothing could stop her from keeping her head held high, her gaze searching the room eagerly just to finally land on the familiar figure standing near the entrance.

Rebecca.

Her heart pounded as their eyes met. Rebecca’s expression was unreadable, a mixture of relief and something darker, something that made Freen’s stomach churn as she stared at her for what had to be more than a minute.

The whole room was silent and still, seeming to await for something drastic to happen at any moment.

Without a word, Rebecca strides towards them. Freen clenches her fists at her sides, anger and betrayal resurging through her veins making her barely register Nam’s gentle squeeze of her arm before stepping back to give them space.

“Freen,” Rebecca says softly, her voice filled with a mix of emotions that Freen wouldn’t dare decipher.

Freen’s eyes narrows dangerously, trying to diminish the beating of her heart.

“How dare you still call me that?”

Rebecca visibly flinches at her words and voice tone, the pain in her eyes evident, but she quickly masks it.

“Freen, please.” Rebecca looks exhausted, as if she hasn't slept for two days, but she still appears painfully beautiful to Freen, who was trying not to be deceived by Rebecca's eager gaze upon her. “I did what I had to do.”

“Had to do?” Freen’s voice rose, attracting more attention from the room. She didn’t care anymore. “You lied to me! You pretended to care about me while planning to kidnap me all along!”

“Freen.” Rebecca stepped closer, her voice urgent yet gentle.

“Don’t call me that!” It might seem something trivial, but allowing Rebecca to call her by her name only reminded Freen of how much she had allowed the rebel unlimited access to the intimacies of her life.

She now needed to regain some of the dignity she had left.

Rebecca seems very tormented by the princess's request and desperately searches her eyes for something. She looks defeated after a few seconds."
“I will explain everything, but not here. Let’s talk somewhere private.”

Freen shook her head, her anger only intensifying. “Where is my family? What did you do to them?!”

Rebecca sighs, glancing around at the curious onlookers before meeting Freen’s gaze again.

“They are safe.”

Freen crosses her arms, trying to steady her breathing. What was that supposed to mean?

Rebecca takes a deep breath, her eyes never leaving Freen’s.

“ I promise you I will tell you everything. Just let me take a shower before we talk, you don’t need to be any more disgusted by me than you already are.”

With that, she just nods to the women around Freen before heading to the directions of the rooms.

Freen feels equally enraged and irrationaly uncomfortable at her departure.

“You really get some nerves talking to her like that, don’t you?”

Freen hears Marjorie irritating voice once again, and closes her eyes.

“Oh, come on, Marjorie… Leave her alone!” Nam interjects, crossing her arms.

“Oh, I will.”

And then she’s gone, heading apparently in the same direction Rebecca just went to.

“Don’t worry about her, it's just that… She is especially bitchy to everyone when it comes to defending Rebecca.”

Freen comes out from her sudden divagation and stares at the shorter woman quizzically.

“Why?”

Nam lets out a sheepish smile before covering her mouth, trying to be as discreet as possible.

“Marjorie has a major crush on Rebecca.” Nam giggles at her own pun, unaware of Freen’s sudden disturbed gaze. “ Everyone here knows that tho, It’s old news really, just Rebecca doesn’t seem to notice… She’s oblivious to that kind of things.”

Freen has trouble sweeling and her chest tightens with discomfort. She didn’t like hearing that at all.
“Do they know each other for a long time?”

Nam nods nonchalantly while trying to take Freen back to the cafeteria.

“We all do. Bt the three of us have been together since this whole thing started so it must be for around… Five years.”

Freen tries to keep her face as expressionless as she could, but it was becoming exhausting having to fake all of her feelings. And lord… She was feeling a lot.

Feelings that were not supposed to be mixed together were creating a complete chaos and mess inside of her.

Anger, vengeance, fear and now… jealousy.

A sinful, blatant and freezing feeling at the pit of her stomach that was making her squirm with unease.

What was Marjorie doing with Rebecca in that room?

“Freen? Are you okay?”

Fed up with everything, Freen just denies quickly, changing routes as she happens to recognize “her” bedroom. So she just heads there.

“Wait, Freen! You need to eat!”

Freen quickens her pace, locking the door immediately after she enters the room.

Her breathing was out of control, but so were the tears now on the verge of scaping from her sensitive eyes.

She didn’t want to deal with this unwanted love right now.

She wouldn’t think straight.

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Laying in the bed, Freen was sure she had mapped out each intrinsicate detail on the ceiling.

She was staring at it for what it had to be forty minutes now, trying to leave her mind clean and tame her racing thoughts.

She was also becoming very aware that she pretty much didn’t know anything about this organization. They all knew her so well, even down to the things she is used to wearing, but Freen is still clueless to most things here.

She didn’t even know what was their actual motivation after all. All her dad has been saying about them was just that they were ‘irrational and savage people trying to shake the order’ in their kingdom.

But that clearly wasn’t the truth.

They were so well articulated that they were able to kidnap the princess under their royal guards watch, and they also have Rebecca Armstrong on their side, wich, alone, was a very telling statement.

She was in a lot of disadvantages here, so she just hoped Rebecca wouldn’t try to play games with her.

She wasn’t sure her fragile and sore heart could take it.

Just as she was massaging it, she hears a soft knock on the door.

“Princess.”

Rebecca’s ever velvety voice echoes in the space before Freen gets up, not trying to seem so desperate as she heads to the door to open it.

The warrior was now clearly more comfortable, wearing a set of casual clothes that reminded Freen of how she used to be back in the palace. Except that she wasn’t wearing red. Of course.

Rebecca’s eyes slowly bore into hers, making her tremble.

Rebecca then reaches out, hesitating before gently touching Freen’s arm.

“Come with me.” Rebecca’s eyes shines with purpose. “Please, princess.”

Freen takes a shaky breath, meeting Rebecca’s gaze once more. There was a sincerity in her eyes, a desperate need for understanding. Despite everything, despite the betrayal and the anger, Freen found herself wanting to believe her. To believe in them.

She wasn’t ready to give up on it.

“Okay,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Rebecca’s relief was palpable as she nodded, leading Freen out of there and into the labyrinthine corridors. Freen’s mind raced with questions, the air heavy with tension, but for now, she let herself be led, hoping that somehow, some way, this would all start to make sense.

As they walked, Rebecca’s hand remained on the bottom of her back, a steadying presence amidst the chaos of her thoughts - Freen’s mind was a storm of conflicting emotions—anger, betrayal, and a lingering, unwanted tenderness towards the woman beside her. She wanted to pull away, to lash out, but a part of her, the part that had always trusted Rebecca, couldn’t let go.

They reached a door at the end of a long corridor. Rebecca pushed it open, revealing a small, dimly lit room with maps and documents scattered across a large wooden table. Freen hesitated at the threshold, her eyes darting around the room.

“Please, come in,” Rebecca says softly, walking towards the back wall.

Freen crosses her arms, standing her ground while holding her head high, her gaze piercing through the flickering candlelight until it landed on Rebecca. The rebel leader stood by the fake window, the soft light casting her face in gentle shadows.

"Where are my parents?" Freen's voice trembled with a mix of anger and desperation.

Rebecca turns slowly, her expression serene despite the tension in the room.

"They are safe. We have no intention of harming them."

Freen took a step forward, her eyes blazing.

"Safe? You call this safe? Where are they, Rebecca?!”

Rebecca's eyes softened. She approaches Freen, her movements slow and deliberate.

"They are in the North, we have other Rebel base there. We just wanted to take Afor out of that throne.”

Freen looked away, her mind a whirlwind of confusion and pain, a lot of questions surging at every second.

“And why did we get separated? Why wasn’t I taken with them?”

Rebecca took a step closer, her hand reaching out but stopping just short of touching Freen.

“It was my order. I did it because I care about you, because I couldn’t stand to see you trapped in a gilded cage while the world outside burned. I needed to be close to me… I don’t trust your safety to anyone else.”

Freen’s heart pounded in her chest, her emotions a tangled mess. She wanted to scream, to cry, to hit something.

She wanted to kiss her.

Instead, she took a deep, shaky breath and forced herself to calm down.

“You care about me?” she said, her voice cold, not reflecting the untamed fire in her chest. “You care about me, and yet you lied to me, manipulated me, and tore me away from everything I know.”

Rebecca was now nearly breathing the same air as her, her voice barely a whisper as she says:

“I know I’ve hurt you. But please, please, believe in me when I say that everything I’ve ever felt for you, everything I’ve done to protect you, that was real. I never lied about that.”

Freen’s eyes filled with tears again, but she blinked them away, refusing to let them fall.

“I don’t know if I can ever trust you again.”

Rebecca closes her eyes for a long time, just letting their breaths mingle in the little space between them. It’s like she was preparing in her head what to say next, or she was just trying to calm down both of their passions.

They knew it was hurting so much because of all the unspoken feelings they had for each other.

“ Afor…Your father…” Rebecca hesitantly starts, her voice steady but low, like she was testing Freen’s waters. The princess just waits, incapable of taking a step back. Somehow, their closeness still made Freen feel safe. “You have to know that his rule is destroying our people. The taxes, the punishments—people are starving while he feasts in that palace."

Freen frowns her forehead.

“This kingdom is built on the suffering of the poorest. I’ve seen it firsthand. And I couldn’t just stand by and watch this injustice take place anymore. But… as I spent time with you, as I got to know you… I knew right away you were nothing like your father. So it became my priority: I needed to show you the truth, to open your eyes to the reality of the kingdom you’re destined to rule because I know you aren’t aware of horrors out there, princess.”

Freen’s heart ached with conflicting emotions. She couldn’t comprehend what that reality could be.

“You think I don’t know we don’t have problems? I’ve spent my life studying ways to improve our sistem, to help those in need. But you—” her voice broke, “you just took away my choice. You made me a prisoner.”

Rebecca takes a step back, walking over to the table behind them to pick up a stack of papers.

“These are all reports from the poorest regions of Heiner. Areas your father’s policies have neglected for years because they aren’t in conditions to send the stupidly high taxes the government orders from them.”

Freen’s eyes desperately roams through the pages, taking in the registers of hundreds of people. They were being charged by the kingdom because of their debts.

“Those people don’t have enough money to sustain themselves, let alone afford these insane charges. You know how the past drought has affected thousands of people, they lost lots of their investments in the harvest.”

Freen is still perplexed, her eyes fixed on the photos of people walking with striped dirty clothes while looking with fear to the royal guards.

“The infos that comes to you are all edited. Your father has been controlling everyone, even the midia, wich means that the reality you think you know doesn’t reflect the truth… And it has been this way for at least two decades because how could it noy work? In the end, the weaker aren’t strong enough to fight against this whole machine, right?”

Freen hesitates, her heart warring with her mind. She wanted to refuse these words, to not believe in a single word, but the pain in Rebecca’s eyes, the sincerity in her voice and the papers in her hands made her pause.

The images were harrowing. Starving children, families torn apart by disease and poverty, entire villages decimated by neglect. Freen’s heart ached with every word, every picture.

Tears filled her eyes, but she quickly wiped them away, not wanting Rebecca to see her vulnerability.

“This is awful,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “I can’t believe these things have been happening because of my family.”

Rebecca enters her space again, her ever gentle and loving eyes showering her with warmth.

“I imagine how hard it is for you to accept this dirty truth. That’s why I wanted to bring you here… There are people with us that you could talk to, they will tell you everything you want to know about your father’s merciless behavior.” Rebecca swallows slowly, batting her eyelashes in a way that makes Freen’s heart react unashamedly. “Then you can make your decision. You either stay here with us, fight with us, or I will personally take you to your family if that’s what you want. You are not a prisoner here.”

Freen is taken back by Rebecca’s firm yet

Somehow her words gives Freen a really awful feeling… Both of the scenarios she was just presented to her would cost greatly to her.

To give up on her. On to give up on her family.

Freen isn’t prepared to think about it just yet, she still has a lot to know, a lot to understand. She needed to make sure her father was really this horrible leader that was being painted as a monster by everyone.

"That doesn't justify kidnapping me," Freen spat, her voice breaking. "You could have come to me. You could have asked for my help."

Rebecca reached out, her hand hovering just above Freen's arm, hesitating.

"I couldn't risk it. Your loyalty to your family... I didn't know if you would understand everything without any proof. You still don’t believe me completely yet."

"And how can I?" Freen's voice was a whisper now, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "How can I believe so easily in the person I —"

Rebecca's heart aches at the sight of Freen's distress. She closes the distance between them, her voice barely above a murmur. "Freen, I never meant to hurt you. I thought... I hoped you might see why I had to do this. For our people. For a future where we can all live without fear."

Freen looked away, struggling to contain her emotions.

"You should have trusted me, Rebecca. We could have found another way."

"I know," Rebecca said softly, her hands finally settling gently on Freen's arms. "But we have to move forward, together. Please, Freen, try to understand why I had to do it."

Freen's breath hitches at the touch caressing her skin. Despite her resentment, the warmth of Rebecca's hands sent a shiver through her. She looked up, her eyes locking with Rebecca's.

She was tired of pretending.

“I want to believe you," she admitted, her voice breaking. "But you've hurt me more than anyone ever has."

"I'll do everything I can to make it right," Rebecca promised, her voice filled with earnest sincerity. "I swear it, princess. For us and for our people."

Silence hung between them, heavy with unspoken feelings. Freen searches Rebecca's eyes, torn between her loyalty to her family and the undeniable pull of her heart.

"You have a lot to prove," Freen finally said, her voice trembling. "But I'll listen and I will try to see your side in this story."

Rebecca's relief was palpable as she gently squeezed Freen's hand.

"That's all I ask."

Chapter Text

After having some of the heaviness in her chest dissipated, Freen could not ignore the lack of energy she was feeling anymore. She had barely eaten since her capture, and it was simply out of fear. Poison was a common tactic among the royals, and she had been taught to trust no food that didn't come from the palace kitchens.

And Rebecca knew that. So the princess should not be surprised by the rebels attentiveness to that matter when she stated:

"You need to eat," The rebel held out her hand in the air. "I promise, I won't let anything happen to you. You’re safe here."

Freen hesitated, her gaze locked on Rebecca's extended hand. They were still in what seemed to be their meeting room, where all of those documents were being displayed, and she was frankly exhausted from all the information she had to digest. So, after a moment, she stood from her chair and took the awaiting hand, allowing Rebecca to lead her out of that place and through the corridors once more. They walked in silence, the tension between them palpable.

Freen knew Rebecca could sense her mistrust like a physical barrier between them.

They arrived at the small, makeshift cafeteria. It was nothing like the grand dining halls Freen was used to, but it had a certain charm to it. Rebecca guided her to a table and motioned for her to sit.

"Wait here," she instructed gently. "I'll prepare something for you."

Freen watched her go, her heart pounding in her chest. She had never been in such a situation before, and the uncertainty was almost unbearable. Especially in a situation like this. If all the things she had said about her family were true, why would Rebecca go out of her way to care for her?

It just didn’t make sense to her.

She couldn't help but to keep watching her with a mixture of suspicion and curiosity through the window glass, observing how Rebecca moved around the small kitchen with practiced ease, gathering ingredients and utensils. As she worked, she glanced over at Freen a few times, as if to make sure she was still there.

And as oddly as it may sound, Freen didn't want to be anywhere else at that moment.
She needed to know more about this new reality that was hitting her. That's why she stood up and walked towards the kitchen area, her hands crossed together at the bottom of her back in a posture that felt familiar to her.

"I know you're scared," Rebecca said, not looking up from her chopping. "But you don't have to be. We're not monsters."

Freen didn't respond, but her expression softened slightly. There was something about Rebecca's demeanor that was disarming, even if Freen didn't want to admit it.

Rebecca finished what it seemed to be a vegetable stew and poured a generous portion into a bowl. She carried it over to Freen, placing it in front of her with a spoon at the counter.

"Here," she said, sitting across from her. "It's nothing like Ivy would have prepared for you back at the palace, but I can guarantee you it's safe."

Freen looked down at the bowl, the savory aroma wafting up to her. She picked up the spoon and hesitated, glancing up at Rebecca. The rebel's eyes were sincere, calm like an unwindy lake, and for a moment Freen felt a flicker of trust.

She took a tentative bite, and her eyes widened in surprise. The stew was delicious, rich with flavors she hadn't tasted in days. She took another bite, then another, her hunger finally overcoming her caution.

Rebecca watched her intently, a small smile playing on her lips.

"See? Not everything outside the palace is bad."

Freen looked up, swallowing a mouthful of stew.

"I never thought like that." she remarked, her voice barely above a whisper. "I was always excited about going out and meeting our people. It's just that… I had to follow strict rules to be able to do that."

Rebecca's smile faded, replaced by a more serious expression.

"I know. And that’s why I liked you from the first time we met."

The princess swallowed slowly. Hearing Rebecca say that she liked her did things to her.

“What do you mean?”

Rebecca’s eyes danced between Freen’s, before diverting them to the counter.

“You were about to go out to Werner’s village, therefore you were with Affor pretending to listen to his orders. He was instructing you on how you should behave while being out, and of course I was there to pay attention to your security matters… You probably don’t remember me being in there as it was…”

“ I do.” Freen suddenly spits out, rushing to reaffirm. “It was the first time I saw you.”

Freen could actually still point out every detail from that moment: What kind of clothes she was in. What her unique image did to her heart.

Her visuals and aura were insanely attractive to Freen from the very start.

Rebecca’s eyes were looking at her again, seeming to pierce her soul.

“I was so intrigued by you when you said you didn’t want to be accompanied by the soldiers during that visit. You were trying to give up your supposed security just to feel like you were part of that world.”

Freen's eyes glistened with unshed tears. There was something about the way Rebecca looked at her, talked about her, that made her heart ache in a way she didn't know how to act on.

But it was consuming her little by little.

“It was my grandfather, you know.” Freen played with her fork, trying to distract herself. “I admired him so much, how he loved and cherished his people… I’ve always hoped to be like
him someday.”

Tears started to fill Freen’s eyes at the thought of her dad’s father. She loved him so much.

“Heiner was a completely different kingdom during his reign.” Rebecca nodded, seeming to be torned as she was looking at Freen’s hands fidgeting on the table. “He was a great man.”

Freen wasn’t sure for how much time they just stared at each other, as if it was impossible for them to stop.

"There was a time," Rebecca began, her voice steady but tinged with sadness, "when I believed in the monarchy. I thought they were doing what was best for all of us."

Freen looked at her, surprised.

"What changed?"

Rebecca sighed, her gaze growing distant. "My family. We were loyal to the crown, but when my father spoke out against a new policy that hurt the common people, he was executed. My mother and I were left with nothing. That’s when I realized the truth about the monarchy."

Freen's breath got caught in her throat and a heartfelt sound escaped her lips. She felt like her heart was cut out and straight up bleeding uncontrollably right now, the thought of her father’s influence destroying Rebecca’s family cutting deep in her flesh.

She was paralyzed, hopeless. And it was right then that she realized how ill and harming her father really was.

And she was so utterly ashamed, disgusted and perturbed by the thought of being related to him that she let out another hurtful and pained sound, not being able to even look in Rebecca’s direction anymore.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered. "I’m so sorry, Rebecca.”

Her tears started to flow shamelessly down her face, her desperation palpable as she felt like her whole world was destroyed and burned to ashes. And her sobs were the only sound between them for a while, the princess' eyes shutted as if she was trying to force this unsettling truth to be just a nightmare.

Rebecca watched Freen, the sight of the princess's tears seeming to unsettle her. She stood up and rounded the counter, stepping closer, her hand reaching out to gently touch Freen's shoulder. The contact was soft, almost hesitant, but held so much warmth that made Freen finch slightly at first, but then lean into Rebecca's touch, her sobs intensifying just a bit.

"Freen," Rebecca whispered, her voice tender, "it's not your fault. I know it’s not your fault. And you can't choose your family or their actions… What matters is who you are and the choices you make."

She moved closer, slowly wrapping her arms around Freen in a comforting embrace. Freen clung to her, burying her face in Rebecca's neck. The warmth of Rebecca's body, the steady beat of her heart and her dangerously good scent provided a grounding presence, pulling Freen back from the brink of despair.

Rebecca stroked Freen's hair gently, her fingers threading through the soft strands. "You have a good heart," she murmured. "You care about people, and you want to make things right. That's what makes you different from your father."

Freen's sobs slowly subsided, her breathing evening out as she took in Rebecca's words. She pulled back slightly, looking into Rebecca's eyes. The depth of emotion there—compassion, understanding, love—made her heart ache in a different way.

"Rebecca," she said, her voice raw, "how can you forgive me? How can you still care for me after everything my family has done?"

Rebecca cupped Freen's face in her hands, her thumbs brushing away the lingering tears. "Because I know you, Freen. I know your heart. And I believe in you. Together, we can make a difference. We can build a better future."

Freen closed her eyes, leaning into Rebecca's ever gentle touch. "Thank you," she whispered. "Thank you for believing in me."

Rebecca pressed a gentle kiss to Freen's forehead, lingering there for a moment before pulling back. "You're not alone," she said softly.

They stood there, wrapped in each other's embrace. In Rebecca's arms, Freen found a sense of peace and strength she hadn't known she needed this bad. And in that moment, she finally knew what she wanted.

“I want to help you.” Freen looked deeply into Rebecca’s eyes, unwavering with purposeness and determination. “I want to be on your side.”

Rebecca’s smile shone with unspoken vibrations, taking in the form of the princess with her stunning and incredibly deep eyes.

“Then you should go rest, my princess. I have a lot of plans for you tomorrow.”

Freen’s heart swells at the way Rebecca calls her and she is sure sleeping will be the last thing she is going to be able to do tonight.

—-------------------------------------------------------

Freen woke to the sounds of that place stirring to life. The murmur of voices, the clink of metal, and the scent of wood smoke filled the air. She lay still for a moment, the events of the previous night replaying in her mind. The shocking truth about her family and the way Rebecca had held her had altered the chemicals of her brain and heart.

She felt like a whole other person right now. At least she wanted to become better.

Sitting up, Freen glanced around the small room she had been given. It was simple, yet there was a sense of purpose here that she had never felt within the gilded walls of her former home.

As she dressed and prepared to step out into the corridors, Freen couldn’t help but feel a growing curiosity about the rebels. Her life had been a series of carefully constructed truths, dictated by the king’s needs and desires. But now, in the heart of the rebel camp, she had the chance to see the world from a different perspective.

Rebecca was waiting for her outside, a smile softening her otherwise stern features. “Morning,” she greeted, her voice carrying a warmth that made Freen’s heart skip a beat.

“Good morning,” Freen replied, her own smile widening. “What’s on the agenda for today?”

Rebecca’s eyes sparkled with a hint of mischief. “I thought it might be time for you to learn more about how we do things around here.”

Freen’s curiosity was piqued. “I’d like that,” she said, her voice earnest. “I want to be part of this too.”

Rebecca nodded, pleased by Freen’s response. “Come on. I’ll show you around.”

They walked through the place, Rebecca pointing out various activities and introducing Freen to some of the key members of the rebellion. Freen was struck by the diversity of the people she met—men and women of all ages, united by a common cause. There was a sense of camaraderie here, a shared determination that was palpable.

As they moved from one area to another, Freen couldn’t help but notice the way Rebecca interacted with the others. There was a deep respect in the way they looked at her, a testament to her leadership and the trust she had earned.

They reached a makeshift workshop where a group of rebels were working on repairing weapons and armor. “This is one of our most important operations,” Rebecca explained. “We don’t have the resources of the kingdom, so we have to be resourceful and make do with what we have.”

Freen watched as a young woman skillfully welded a piece of metal, her focus unwavering. “She’s good,” Freen remarked, impressed by the woman’s expertise.

Rebecca smiled. “That’s Lila. She’s one of our best blacksmiths. Used to work for the royal armory before she joined us.”

Freen’s eyes widened in surprise. “Really?”

Rebecca’s expression turned serious. “Lila saw firsthand the corruption and greed of the kingdom. So, she joined us, using her skills to help our cause.”

Freen nodded, a newfound respect for Lila and the others beginning to take root.

“It must be difficult to leave a life you are already used to to go on a dangerous and unknown path..”

Rebecca’s gaze softened as she looked at Freen.

“It is.”

They continued their tour, Rebecca explaining the various strategies and tactics the rebels used. Freen was struck by the intelligence and ingenuity behind their plans. It was clear that these were not just a group of disorganized rebels—they were a force to be reckoned with.

As the day wore on, they found themselves in the clearing, where the sun painted the sky beautifully in it’s crepuscular lights. Rebecca handed Freen a piece of bread and cheese, a simple but satisfying meal and they sat together, enjoying a moment of peace amid the chaos.

“You’ve seen a lot today,” Rebecca said, her voice thoughtful. “What do you think?”

Freen took a bite of her bread, considering her words carefully. “I think… I understand better now. You’re not just fighting for power or revenge. You’re fighting for a better future.”

Rebecca’s eyes lit up with approval. “That’s exactly it. We want a world where everyone has a chance to live with dignity, without fear or oppression.”

Freen looked at Rebecca, her heart swelling with admiration.

“You really believe in this, don’t you?”

Rebecca nodded, her gaze unwavering. “I do. And I’m willing to fight for it, no matter the cost.”

Freen felt a pang of guilt as she thought about her own privileged life in the palace. She had never had to fight for anything—everything had been handed to her on a silver platter. But now, seeing the passion and determination of the rebels, she realized just how sheltered she had been.

“Rebecca,” Freen began, her voice hesitant. “Do you think… do you really think there’s a place for me here?”

Rebecca’s expression softened, a warmth spreading through her eyes. “Of course there is. You have the potential to be a great asset to our cause. And besides,” she added with a playful smile, “I enjoy having you around.”

Freen’s cheeks flushed at Rebecca’s words, a flutter of excitement stirring in her chest.

“I enjoy being around you too,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. It wasn’t totally true tho: ‘Enjoy’ wasn’t really the word she would use to describe how much she appreciated Rebecca in her life.

It meant so much more.

And Rebecca seemed to think the same as she reached out, her hand gently brushing against Freen’s.

“I’m glad to hear that,” she said softly. “Because I’ve come to care about you, Freen. More than I ever expected.”

Freen’s heart skipped a beat at Rebecca’s confession. She was debating with herself if she was even worthy of her.

So they sat in silence for a moment, the weight of their words hanging in the air. Freen felt a warmth spread through her, a sense of belonging that she had never felt before.

“Rebecca,” Rebecca said quietly, breaking the silence with her voice trembling with emotions. “When this is all over, when we’ve won… what will you do? Will you go back to your mother?”

Freen looked at Rebecca, her heart aching at the thought of her leaving.

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “I never thought this far.”

Freen’s eyes shone with a mixture of fear and uncertainty.

“I want you to stay,” she said softly. “I… Don’t see myself navigating this kingdom by myself. I’ll need you with me. ”

Freen reached out, her hand clasping Rebecca’s.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Rebecca said softly, intertwining their fingers with immense care. Her gentleness made Freen want to cry. “But know this, Freen —I’m not going anywhere until this is over. I want to see this through. For you, and for everyone here.”

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the clearing in a soft twilight, Freen felt a sense of peace settle over her. She had found her place, her purpose, and perhaps even her future. And she knew, with Rebecca by her side, she could face whatever challenges lay ahead.

Chapter Text

The moon hung low in the sky, casting a silvery glow over the rugged landscape where the rebel camp lay hidden, nestled amidst tall, swaying pines. Almost a week had passed since Freen was brought here, and she was already getting familiar with the people and dynamics there.

She hadn’t had much time to talk to Rebecca as she had been busy strategizing and preparing for the next move against the monarchy. As one of the rebel leaders, she had to be coordinating the camp's bustling activities. That’s why Freen found herself at the edge of the training grounds now, her eyes eager and drawn to the center where Rebecca was instructing a group of fighters.

Freen sat on a fallen log next to Nam, as they both were now really getting along and spending time with each other. She was always nice and prestative towards the princess and that’s why talking to her felt like something natural to do.

But right now, Freen just couldn’t keep up with her.

Nam was chatting animatedly about the latest developments, but Freen's attention was only half on the conversation.

"Are you even listening, Freen?" Nam teased, nudging her with an elbow.

Freen snapped out of her trance, offering an apologetic smile.

"Sorry. I guess I'm a little distracted."

Nam followed her gaze and smirked knowingly.

"Ah, I see. You're watching Rebecca again."

Freen's cheeks flushed, and she tried to hide her embarrassment. Nam had noticed the way they interacted, the kind of tension that was always present whenever they talked to each other, and had been provoking Freen every chance she got.

"She's just... she's such a good leader. It's inspiring to see."

Nam laughed softly.

"Sure, sure. Inspiring, huh?"

Freen didn't respond, her eyes fixed yet again on Rebecca as she demonstrated a series of defensive maneuvers with grace and striking precision. There was something captivating about the way Rebecca moved, a combination of strength and elegance that held Freen's attention like a magnet.

"Remember," Rebecca's voice rang out, clear and commanding, "your stance is everything. If you lose your balance, you lose the fight. Be like the trees around us—rooted and unyielding."

Her presence was powerful, and the respect she commanded from the rebels was palpable. Even from a distance, Freen could see the determination in their faces as a response to Rebecca's words.

And as the training session continued, Freen noticed Rebecca pairing up the fighters for what seemed to be a sparring practice. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw her stopping in front of Marjorie, the tall woman who had been following her around with a consistency that annoyed Freen.

Marjorie's smile was wide and eager as she nodded at Rebecca's instructions.

"Looks like they're pairing up," Nam remarked, leaning back and stretching. "And Marjorie seems pretty thrilled about it."

Freen's jaw tightened as she watched Marjorie and Rebecca taking their positions opposite to each other. She couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy twist in her stomach and Nam’s words weren’t doing much to lighten her expression.

It felt as if Marjorie's eyes never left Rebecca, her admiration clear in every glance and smile causing Freen’s fists to clench beside her.

"Marjorie has always had a thing for her," Nam said casually, as if reading Freen's thoughts. She whistles."But damn… Right now it’s really getting pretty obvious."

Freen swallowed hard, trying to keep her emotions in check.

"Yeah, I noticed."

Marjorie was good, her movements fluid and confident, but Rebecca was in a league of her own. Each time they clashed, Rebecca's focus was unwavering, her eyes sharp and her movements controlled. It was mesmerizing to watch, and Freen couldn't tear her eyes away, too focused on the way they seemed to be attuned and familiar with each other's movements.

"Your form is improving, Marjorie, but remember," Rebecca said sternly, blocking a punch with ease, "strength alone won't save you. You need to outthink your opponent. Anticipate their moves."

Marjorie nodded, her respect for Rebecca evident.

"Okay… I’ll do better."

"They're just training," Freen muttered to herself, trying to calm the irrational surge of envy. "It's nothing personal."

Nam nudged her again, a sympathetic look in her eyes.

"You know, if you're that interested, you should just talk to her. She's not as untouchable as she seems, especially with you… Actually, she seems very soft with you."

Freen sighed, knowing Nam was probably right, but feeling uncertain nonetheless.

"Maybe. It's just... complicated." She tapped her fingers nervously on her thighs, drawing absent figures on her skin. “Don’t you think she already has a lot to deal with right now? I don’t think she needs something to distract her from her duties…”

A silent minute hangs between them as Nam seems to take some time with her nexts words. Freen’s heart was slowly stretching and retrieving its form as she managed to think things through like that.

“We can’t just control these things, Freen… And to be honest, I think you both deserve some lightness in your hearts”. Nam gave her a reassuring pat on the back. "Plus, nothing worth having is ever easy."

Freen nodded, really appreciating and grateful for Nam's support.

“You are good with words, you know?”

Nam shrugs, acting like she was not

“Yeah, so my exes told me.”

Freen can’t contain her laughter and they both giggle at the Nam cockiness.

But them Freen’s attention was caught back to Rebecca and Marjorie, noting every interaction, smile and gesture between them. Despite her efforts to stay rational, her jealousy flared every time Marjorie got a little too close or laughed a little too loudly at something Rebecca said.

The training session eventually came to an end, and Rebecca dismissed everyone with a few words of encouragement.

"Remember, we're only as strong as our weakest link. Train hard, fight smart, and always watch each other's backs."

But Marjorie lingered, clearly wanting to talk more to her, but Rebecca just gave her a polite nod and walked away, heading towards where Freen and Nam were sitting.

Freen's heart raced as Rebecca approached, her mind scrambling for something to say. It was then that their eyes met, and for a moment, Freen felt as if they were the only two people in the world.

"Freen, Nam," Rebecca greeted, her voice calm but still seeming to carry a bit of her commanding tone. "How are you both?"

"Good," Nam replied with a grin. "Just watching the master at work."

It was just then that Rebecca’s expression relaxed completely, as if something in her had been turned off. She chuckled softly, her gaze shifting to Freen.

"And you, Freen? I hope Nam didn’t bother you too much today?"

Freen managed a smile, trying to hide her giggle as Nam let out a soft scoff.

"Definitely not. She has been a good company."

Rebecca's eyes softened and for a fleeting moment Freen saw something deeper there, something more than just a casual interest in what she was saying.

Nam stood up, stretching again. "Well, I need to check on something. I'll leave you two to chat."

Freen watched Nam walk away, her heart pounding. Alone with Rebecca, the air seemed charged with unspoken words and she frankly didn’t know how to act on it.

Rebecca sensed Freen's scrutiny and paused, turning to face her.

"Are you ready?" Her voice was calm yet tinged with an underlying intensity that sent a shiver down Freen's spine.

Freen hesitated for a moment, meeting Rebecca's piercing gaze.
"Ready for what?" she asked, her tone a mix of curiosity and excitedness.

Rebecca's lips curved into a faint smile.

"To learn how to defend yourself," she replied, her voice soft yet firm. "In case we face the kingdom's army."

Freen's breath caught at the mention of the kingdom's army. She had been raised within the safety of the palace walls, shielded from the harsh realities of battle and conflict. Now, thrust into this world of rebels and resistance, she felt a surge of fear and uncertainty. Yet, beneath it all, a spark of determination flickered—she couldn't afford to remain defenseless, not in this unfamiliar terrain.

"Alright," Freen said finally, her voice steadier than she felt.

Rebecca nodded, her eyes reflecting approval. She then extended her hand gracefully and took Freen’s hand, walking them both to the place she had been training with the others.

Freen’s insecurity peaked at that moment.

"First, we'll start with some basic self-defense techniques," she began, leading Freen to a cleared patch of ground. "It's crucial to know how to protect yourself, especially in close combat."

Freen watched as Rebecca demonstrated a series of fluid movements—blocks, strikes, and evasions that seemed effortless in their execution. Her admiration grew despite herself; Rebecca moved with a grace and precision that spoke of years of training and experience. As Rebecca finished her demonstration, she turned to Freen expectantly.

"Now you try," Rebecca encouraged, gesturing for Freen to mimic her stance.

Freen swallowed nervously, her muscles tense with apprehension. She mirrored Rebecca's movements as best as she could, stumbling through the steps with a mixture of awkwardness and determination. Rebecca offered gentle corrections and encouragement, her hands occasionally guiding Freen's posture or demonstrating a technique with patience.

“Relax,” Rebecca said softly, her breath warm against Freen’s ear. “Let your body move naturally.”

Freen shivered at the closeness, her pulse quickening. She focused on Rebecca’s voice, on the warmth of her touch. Slowly, she felt the tension in her body begin to ease.

They moved together, Rebecca’s hands guiding Freen through each motion. Freen could feel the heat of Rebecca’s body, the brush of her skin, and it sent a thrill through her. The proximity was intoxicating, a heady mix of an otherworldly excitement.

“You’re doing well,” Rebecca murmured, her voice a gentle encouragement. “Trust yourself.”

Freen met Rebecca’s gaze, her heart skipping a beat at the intensity in those eyes.

“I don’t think I can be good at it,” she whispered, her voice trembling slightly.

Rebecca’s expression became unreadable, so intense it took a breath away from her.

“You’re stronger than you think, Freen.”

The physical closeness became almost unbearable. Freen’s heart raced whenever Rebecca touched her, each correction sending a jolt of electricity through her body. She was acutely aware of every brush of skin, every shared breath.

At one point, Rebecca demonstrated a particularly complex move, stepping behind Freen to adjust her stance. Rebecca’s arms encircled Freen’s, her chest pressing against Freen’s back. Freen felt her pulse quicken, her breath hitching at the intimate contact.

“Like this,” Rebecca whispered, her lips close to Freen’s ear. “Feel the motion.”

Freen nodded, her mind reeling. She could hardly focus on the move, her senses overwhelmed by the nearness of Rebecca. She felt a warmth spread through her, a longing she hadn’t realized could be that intense.

Rebecca’s hands lingered, her touch gentle yet firm.

“You’ve got it,” she said, her voice low and soft. “You’re doing great.”

Freen turned slightly, her eyes meeting Rebecca’s. The air between them felt charged, heavy with unspoken emotions.

“Rebecca,” she began, her voice barely a whisper.

Rebecca’s gaze held hers, a serious expression in her eyes as she flew them to Freen’s lips before returning to look at her.

“Yes?”

Freen hesitated, her heart pounding. She was aware of every point of contact between them, the warmth of Rebecca’s hands on her arms, the closeness of their bodies.

“I… thank you,” she said, the words inadequate for what she was feeling. She just wasn’t able to formulate or articulate anything else.

The adrenaline pulsating in her blood was overwhelming her.

Rebecca smiled, a warmth in her eyes that sent another shiver through Freen.

“You’re welcome.”

They resumed their training, but the atmosphere had shifted. There was an undeniable tension between them, a magnetic pull that drew them closer with each passing moment. Freen found herself looking forward to Rebecca’s touch, the thrill of their closeness.

As the night wore on, Rebecca’s instructions grew softer, more intimate. They stood close, their breaths mingling in the cool night air. Rebecca’s hands guided Freen through each movement, her touch a constant source of warmth and reassurance.

“You’re improving,” Rebecca said, her voice a low murmur. “You’re getting stronger.”

Freen smiled, a warmth spreading through her chest at the praise.

“It’s because of you,” she replied softly.

A flicker of emotion passed through Rebecca’s eyes.

“You have the strength within you, Freen. I’m just helping you find it.”

At one point, as they paused to catch their breath, Freen met Rebecca's gaze across the clearing. In that fleeting moment of silence, something unspoken passed between them. Freen felt a flutter of something unfamiliar yet undeniable—a yearning that stirred deep within her chest.

"Thank you for teaching me," Freen said softly, breaking the quietude that had settled between them.

Rebecca's expression softened, her eyes holding a warmth that sent a jolt of warmth through Freen's veins.

"It's my duty," she replied, her voice low yet tinged with an underlying tenderness. "And I want you to be prepared. You need to be prepared in case things go out of our plans."

Freen nodded, her heart swelling with a mixture of gratitude as she realized that Rebecca's efforts went beyond mere duty—there was a sincerity in her actions, a genuine desire to protect and empower her.

That’s when she decided she needed to do something. Otherwise she might explode with the rhythm of her heart.

"Rebecca," Freen began, her voice steady and low despite the butterflies in her stomach. "Can we have a walk? I… I’m not ready to sleep just yet."

Rebecca's expression grew serious and she nodded.

"Of course. Let's have a walk."

Chapter Text

They moved away from the training grounds, walking slowly side by side as the sounds of the camp faded into the background. Freen struggled to find the right words, her mind still racing with all the sensations and feelings the rebel has been invoking in her.

As well as some deeply unsettling thoughts about Marjorie and her together that she'd been trying to keep at bay.

"Rebecca," she called out softly.

Rebecca turned, her eyes meeting Freen's.

"Freen."

She hesitated, unsure of how to express what was consuming her without revealing too much.

"I... I was watching you training with Marjorie. She's really dedicated."

Rebecca nodded, a slight smile on her lips as she studied Freen’s face carefully. "She is. Marjorie has been with us for a long time. She's one of our best fighters."

The princess swallows hard, trying to find the right words while sensing a burning fire inside of her.

"It seems like she really looks up to you."

Rebecca raises an eyebrow, sensing something beneath Freen's words and tight tone of voice. "I guess she does. We’ve been through a lot together. Why do you ask?"

Freen shifts her weight, looking down at the ground. "It's just... sometimes I wonder if people see more than just a leader in you. She seems to know the person behind all of that."

Rebecca's eyes softened, making them come to a halt as she took a step closer to Freen. "Freen, is there something you're trying to say?"

Freen glanced up, her heart pounding. "I guess I just... I wish I could see that side of you too."

Rebecca looked surprised, her expression unreadable for a moment. She seemed to consider Freen's words, to take her in as her gaze searched Freen’s face eagerly. Her amazing and expressive eyes held so much intensity and a disarming vulnerability that Freen felt her eyes welling up uncontrollably.

"You do see that side of me. More than most people."

The princess' breath caught, a mixture of hope and confusion flooding her senses and causing her hands to tremble. "I do?"

Rebecca's eyes moved down slowly, her voice gentle yet firm as her gaze lingered on Freen’s lips. "Yes. But there are things about me, about this life, that makes it difficult to get close to anyone."

Freen’s heartbeat increases dangerously, her own eyes traveling back and forth between Rebecca’s eyes and lips.

“I think Marjorie is trying to get closer to you.”

The rebel tilts her head, her eyes narrowing slightly. "You're worried about my relationship with Marjorie."

Freen snapped out from her daze, scared of where she was leading their conversation too. She panicked, blurting out anything to disguise her reckless words. "It's just that you two seem very close. I was curious about it."

Freen then took a step back, returning her pace and walking away. She heard Rebecca following her, in silence, until her deep voice reached her red ears. "Marjorie is a valuable friend and a dedicated warrior… That’s just it."

Freen felt a warmth spreading through her at her words, but she kept her silence. She was embarrassed enough by her straightforwardness.

It was then that she heard Rebecca’s light giggle behind her, and felt a warm hand holding her arm softly, making her stop.

“Why are you running from me?”

Freen moved her hair away from her face, turning to look at her.

“I’m not running from you. I’m just…”

She saw Rebecca’s bright eyes and shook her head, her words stopping in her mouth when she finally paid enough attention to their surroundings.

As they wandered away, the world around them transformed into a serene, almost ethereal setting. The forest canopy above them parted, revealing a clear view of the night sky, where the moon hung low and full, casting a silvery light that bathed everything in a soft, dreamlike glow.

The path they just walked led them to the edge of a tranquil lake, its surface like a polished mirror reflecting the moonlight and the stars. The water was so still that it seemed almost otherworldly, capturing the night sky perfectly within its depths. Gentle ripples spread across the lake as a soft breeze whispered through the trees, carrying the scent of pine and earth.

Freen was led by Rebecca to the water's edge, the contours of her insanely beautiful face attracting her attention all to herself.
They stood in silence for a while, letting that paradise surround them completely.

"Tell me about your life in the palace. What was it like growing up as a princess?" Rebecca's voice was soft, almost tender, her eyes seeming to be lost in the horizon above the water.

Freen blinked, taken aback by the sudden change in topic. She thought about her life in the palace, the gilded cage that had been her home. Freen sighed, her voice tinged with sadness. "My father was strict, and my mother... she was kind, but distant. I had responsibilities and expectations, but no real freedom."

Rebecca listened intently, her eyes turning to look at Freen's face. "It must have been difficult, living under such scrutiny your whole life."

Freen nodded, her voice softening as she continued. "Yes, it was. But I always dreamed of something more, something beyond the palace walls. I wanted to make a difference, to fight for something real. That kept me going."

Rebecca’s face then hardened, the tightness in her jaw clear. “A child shouldn't have to deal with parents like that.”

Freen bit her lips, stressed by the unpleasurable memories.

"They were very authoritarian. They pushed me to grow up fast, to be the perfect princess. I was never allowed to just be a child. Every mistake was met with harsh criticism. They wanted me to be strong, but it felt more like they wanted me to be someone I wasn't."

She only noticed her fists were clenched when Rebecca took her hands to herself, tangling them together. Freen stood there, watching her with undivided attention.

"You've had a lot on your shoulders," she said quietly after a while.

Freen looked down at their hands, her fingers twisting together trying to absorb the feeling of her skin on her like that. "It was... lonely, mostly.," she admitted. “I was surrounded by people, but I never felt like I had anyone I could truly trust."

Rebecca now fully grasped her, bringing their body’s close in a flush. "You can trust me," she said, her voice full of conviction. "I know it's hard, but I won't let anything happen to you. I will not break your trust ever again."

For a moment, time seemed to stand still as they looked at each other, the world outside fading into insignificance. Freen looked up, her eyes meeting Rebecca's. There was a desire in her gaze that took the princess breath away, making her heart ache with a mixture of longing and a desperate emotion burning in her.

"I believe in you," Freen whispered, her voice trembling.

They took in the moment, letting their breaths mingle for a while, when Rebecca’s eyes brightened suddenly. “You know, there’s something I’ve been wanting to do for a while now,” she said, a hint of mischief in her voice.

“What’s that?” Freen asked, her curiosity and feelings reaching a peak that was defying secure levels .

Rebecca took a step closer, her eyes locked onto Freen’s. “Dance with me. We never got to dance at the ball. And you were… You were so beautiful that day that I couldn’t stop thinking about how lucky those men were to even get a chance to be in your arms like that.”

Freen’s heart skipped a beat. The ball seemed like a lifetime ago, a different world entirely. But here, under the moonlight, the idea of dancing with Rebecca felt like the most intimate and romantic thing in the world. And that thought alone almost brought her to her knees.

“I… I’d like that,” Freen managed to whisper softly.

Rebecca’s smile widened, and she squeezed Freen’s hand, pulling her even more gently into her arms. There was no music, but the sounds of the night filled the air, creating a symphony just for them. Rebecca placed one hand on Freen’s waist, and Freen’s breath hitched as she rested her own hand on Rebecca’s shoulder.

They began to move, slowly at first, finding a rhythm that was uniquely theirs. Freen felt a sense of peace wash over her, a feeling she hadn’t known before. Never. It felt like her worries, her fears, all seemed to fade away in Rebecca’s embrace.

She led them into a gentle sway, their bodies close, moving together as if they had danced a thousand times before. Freen followed Rebecca’s lead, her movements tentative but growing more confident with each step. They moved in small circles, the moonlight casting their shadows into a dance of its own on the ground.

Rebecca’s hand slid from Freen’s waist to the small of her back, pulling her closer. She felt her breath catch, the proximity both exhilarating and terrifying. Then, she tentatively mirrored Rebecca’s movements, her free hand coming to rest on the strong arm embracing her, feeling the muscles beneath the fabric.

As they grew more comfortable, Rebecca spun Freen gently, their laughter mingling with the night air. Freen twirled back into her arms, her heart pounding with the joy and freedom of the moment. They continued to dance, Rebecca occasionally guiding Freen into a graceful dip, their eyes never leaving each other.

Rebecca's eyes softened as they swayed, her voice and gaze low and intimate. "You know, I've always wondered…"

Freen's heart raced, sensing the shift in Rebecca's tone. "Wondered what?"

"At the ball, with all those suitors vying for your attention… was there… Did any of them catch your eye?"

Freen felt a pang of anxiety, but she met Rebecca’s gaze steadily. “No,” she said quietly. “None of them interested me. It all felt so... wrong.”

The rebels' eyes were boring into hers. She held her chin lower, making their foreheads almost touch, her expression incomparable to anything Freen has ever seen before. “Why did it feel wrong?”

She hesitated, her heart pounding in her chest. This was the moment she had been longing and waiting for. “Because my heart… it already chose someone else.”

Rebecca’s eyes widened slightly, but she remained silent, waiting for Freen to continue.

Waiting for Freen to say it.

But she never did.

The silence that followed was deafening. Freen could hear her own heartbeat, feel the blood rushing in her ears. She didn’t dare look at Rebecca, afraid of what she might see.

But then, Rebecca’s hand gently cupped her cheek, lifting her face so their eyes met. “Freen,” she said softly, her voice filled with emotions.

Freen’s heart soared, and she felt tears prick at the corners of her eyes. The fear, the uncertainty, it all melted away in the warmth of Rebecca’s gaze. They stood there, holding each other, the world around them forgotten.

They continued to dance, and as they moved, their hands explored each other's features more intimately. Freen’s fingers traced the curve of Rebecca’s jaw, the line of her neck, memorizing every contour.

“Your eyes,” Rebecca whispered, her voice husky. “I’ve never seen anything so beautiful. They remind me of the stars.”

Freen blushed, feeling the heat rise to her cheeks. “And your smile,” Rebecca continued softly. “It lights up my world, even in the darkest moments.”

Rebecca leaned in, her lips brushing against Freen’s ear, her breath warm against Freen’s skin, “I was captivated by your strength and grace. Even as a princess, you never let your title define you.”

Freen’s heart swelled with tenderness, gratitude.

And love.

Freen wants to cry with this realization.

“You make me feel seen, Rebecca. Truly seen.”

Rebecca’s other hand slid from Freen’s back to her face, her thumb caressing Freen’s cheek. “I’ve always seen you. And I always will.”

Then her breath caught in her throat, her eyes full with something that made Freen's heart explode. "Freen," she said softly, her voice carrying so much in it. "I care about you. So much."

The air between them thickened, charged with an intensity that neither of them could escape from anymore. Freen's heart pounded in her chest, her pulse racing in her ears. She took a deep breath, her eyes never leaving Rebecca's.

"Can I..." Rebecca’s voice faltered. She took another deep breath, closing the gap enough to whisper the words on Freen’s lips . "Can I kiss you?"

Freen's heart soared at Rebecca's words.

She couldn’t think of anything else, she couldn’t want anything else. All of her senses were tuned to Rebecca and it was the most exhilarating feeling in the world. "Yes," she whispered, her voice unsteady, desperate. "Yes, please."

She watched Rebecca leaning in slowly, her movements tentative and careful causing her heart to pound louder with each passing second. She could feel Rebecca's breath against her lips, the warmth emanating from her body, contrasting with the cool night breeze, enveloping her in a comforting embrace.

Her own hands, initially trembling, found their way to Rebecca's shoulders, resting there for a moment as she took a breath. In response, Freen felt a hand sliding to her waist, gently pulling her closer.

Her breathing was irregular, each breath a conscious effort. She slowly closed her eyes, allowing her other senses to take over to feel Rebecca's scent, her warmth and her almost possessive touch.

Then their lips finally met.

It was as if an electric current passed through Freen’s body, igniting every cell with a sense of pure ecstasy.

The kiss began softly, their lips touching lightly, almost like a gentle caress. But Freen wanted more. She tilted her head, deepening the kiss with a mix of hesitation and desire. She could feel the softness of Rebecca's lips, their warmth and the sweetness that came from this intimate connection. Rebecca responded with equal tenderness, her lips moving in a harmonious rhythm, as if they were dancing a long-rehearsed dance.

Freen's hands began to move, sliding from Rebecca's shoulders to the back of her neck, where her fingers tangled in the soft hair. She pulled Rebecca a little closer, feeling the firm body against hers. Rebecca, in turn, let one of her hands rise up Freen's spine, while the other remained firmly anchored at her waist, offering a firm and affectionate support.

Every movement was a new discovery, a delicate exploration of what it meant to be so close to someone who had become so important. Freen could feel Rebecca's heartbeat quicken, almost in sync with her own. It was an overwhelming sensation, as if their hearts were communicating in their own way, sharing secrets and silent promises.

Rebecca shifted slightly, pressing her body more firmly against Freen's. She deepened the kiss with a new intensity, her lips parting slightly to explore Freen's with a gentle yet insistent passion. Freen responded in kind, her breath hitching at the unexpected but welcome fervor, feeling Rebecca's hand moving from her waist to her lower back, pulling her even closer, their bodies now completely aligned.

Freen felt a surge of warmth spreading through her body, a sensation that started in her chest and radiated to every extremity. Her fingertips tingled, and she let her hands travel from Rebecca's neck to her face, cradling it tenderly. Rebecca, sensing her increasing desire, tilted her head to deepen the kiss further, her tongue gently tracing the outline of Freen's lips before seeking entrance.

Freen's breath caught, her heart pounding in her chest as she opened her mouth to Rebecca's exploration. Their tongues met in a slow, sensual dance, each movement deliberate and filled with emotion. Freen could taste the sweetness of Rebecca's breath, feel the softness of her lips, and sense the depth of her feelings. It was intoxicating, a heady mix of passion and tenderness that left Freen yearning for more.

Rebecca's hand slid down Freen's spine, sending shivers down her back, while her other hand cupped the side of Freen's face, her thumb gently caressing her cheek. Freen felt herself melting into the kiss, her body pressing even closer to Rebecca's, wanting to feel every part of her. The kiss grew more intense, more urgent, as if they were trying to convey all the emotions they had held back for so long.

The world around them seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of them in that moment. Freen could feel Rebecca's emotions intertwining with her own passion.

She wanted to be hers.

And she knew that this moment would be etched in her memory forever.

After what felt like an eternity, they slowly began to pull away, their lips lingering for a moment longer before finally parting. Their foreheads remained pressed together, eyes still closed as they breathed deeply, trying to steady their racing hearts. Freen opened her eyes slowly, finding Rebecca's eyes shining in the moonlight, filled with an intensity that almost took her breath away again.

The intensity of their kiss lingered in the air as they stood there, their breaths mingling and hearts still racing. The world around them seemed to have transformed, filled with a newfound sense of intimacy and connection. Freen felt a warmth in her chest, joy and anticipation consuming her as she looked into Rebecca's eyes.

Rebecca gently brushed a strand of hair from Freen's face, her fingers lingering for a moment on her cheek. "Come with me," she whispered, her voice soft yet filled with a promise that sent shivers down Freen's spine.