The warmth of his hand crawled through her body, making the soft tears dripping from her chin a bit sweeter. It was torture, there was no relief from the way her heart beat between her ribs. After everything that they had felt together, what they had gone through, it was not fair that she had to feel like this.

They were destined to be the ends of Orion’s belt, she thought. They would never touch, forever some distance apart. No matter how desperately they clung to hope, it would not have mattered.

The one decision that could’ve changed everything was now well and made. The future of her realm decided by three simple words. Ten years of nightmares.

Most had ended by the end of the ninth. She was nestled in a sweet little village with him, going up to the mountain springs every few days to practice the muscles she would need if her past ever caught up to her.

She had expected armies, cruel hunters, giant beasts. What she had not expected, what she had received from the gods, was a small boy at her doorstep.

He was not what she thought of when she pictured a prince. Fourteen, tall, and gangly, with hair that seemed as untamable as a stormy sea. She had quickly learned, however, that he was the legacy of her brother in arms. Her king.

And now, he was seeking safe haven. With the mismatch group of peasants he led at his heels, he had requested a place in their lofts, sworn to them that he would bring no trouble. Even with the risks she knew hung around him, it had never been an option to reject him.

So, slowly but surely, the distance between her and her husband closed. They spoke of the war much more often than she had on her own, and though the memories were painful, somehow she felt a remarkable joy in them.

He looked so much like his father at times, and as he grew, there was no doubt he was fit to be a king. With his distinctly noble nose and high cheekbones, she grew worried that he would be recognized.

Still, he stayed just as childlike as he had always been.

“Come on, auntie, there’s nothing to be afraid of.” He often teased her “If that bastard shows his face, we’ll just lock him with the pigs and wait until they eat his robes.”

She was not as convinced. The blood she had seen would never just disappear. They had made it so far already, she could not see them beheaded.

Not like what had happened to the king.