I stand beside the throne, smiling at the noblemen who pass, as one is meant to when they are prince. My father, old as he is, still looks full and young when he’s around the court. I on the other hand, look older as I try to keep my other feelings from showing.

All I can think about is Tia.

Tia, with that dagger in her side.

Tia, falling backwards off that cliff as I could do nothing.

Tia, who was so delicate, she barely made a splash when she hit the water below.

I tighten my grip on my golden goblet as a duke from the northern mountains comes to greet me. I try to smile as convincingly as I can, but my mind is elsewhere.

I should never have taken her with me. I’d know it was a bad idea deep inside, but I’d wanted an adventure, childish as I was. It was meant to be a short trip out to the coast, that had turned into my assassination attempt. Tia had gotten the knife stuck in her, though, even when it was intended for me.

I should be over it. It was two weeks in the past. I’d mourned her.

So why was I still clinging to her?

Suddenly, there is loud shouting, and screaming from the court ladies and lords as the doors to the ballroom burst open, I turn my head to the ruckus to see a girl being chased by soldiers down the steps, her gown soaked through…

I drop my goblet, red wine splattering my snow white garments.

Tia.

“Tia!” I shout, all sense gone from my mind as I sprint across the floor to her, knowing its not what a prince is meant to look like in public. Nothing like the prince I am.

I don’t care.

Her face is bright with joy, her messy black curls matted to her face, her chocolate brown skin slightly paler than it should be.

Im not thinking about how she looks though.

I only can think how she’s here. How she’s really here.

I spin her round and round, scooping her up and hugging her close.

“I’m so sorry.” I whisper.

“I should never have let them get to you.”

Her smile doesn’t waver.

“I’m still here aren’t I?”

I call for the music to play again, and for a doctor to come, because the wound in her side needs attention. I’m to looks like she tried to stitch it up, failed, and then wrapped it in ripped dress.

Everyone begins to dance again, and they all seem to spin around us like a merry go round.

Tia pulls me down for a kiss, and her lips feel warm and soft, even though she’s shivering and feverish.

This simple thing, a kiss from a person I thought was dead, no less the person I loved, sends a jolt through me.

“You’re really real? Right?” I say, sounding childish.

“You’re not just a dream?”

“Who do you think I am, a ghost?”

She laughs, and if I hadn’t been so relieved to see her alive, I might have laughed too.