“Yes! I was right there when the Knighting Ceremony was in session! I should’ve pushed Father away when that man got close!” I am fully aware of how unbefitting this behavior is for a princess, but I can’t! I just can’t! Like meteors, scorching tears rolled down my cheeks and left trails chilling, feverously shaking my face back and forth. Lucien stood with his azure eyes wide and body unmoving, he snapped out of it and wrapped his arms around my waist, forehead rubbing against my stomach as he whispered the sweetest of nothings he could say. This little brother would always comfort everyone, if he saw Father with shoulders slump and glaring daggers at the reports his subordinates gave him, Lucien would immediately pounce and make Father laugh. Whenever Mother sulks at the prospect her sister being unable to visit, Lucien pulls her along and brings her to Father, I remember them smile to each other, Father would ask for Mother’s hand and they would waltz the afternoon away. “How do you manage to cheer us all up?” I asked, sniffles dying down my throat. Lucien pulled away, smile affixed. “Rahnier is the Crown Prince, You make our people cheery, and I am the youngest. I do not want to see any of you with sad faces, so I do what I can.” Softer than rain pattering against the windows, Lucien’s reply felt airy, like a love letter filled to the brim with writer’s feelings, fresh, heated, calming.

“When we get back to the castle, there is something I must do.” Lucien’s cobalt eyes widened, faintest of outbreaths freed. “Do you mean…?”

I nodded. "I have to." Boots trampling upon the blanket of white caught on, like skulls being crushed and the roar of thunder. A chilling breeze breathed its greeting, Louvel’s soft rouge-tinted locks danced like flowing skirts and in his arms are a wooden staff and a spear with 3 heads, the tip in the middle boasted a piercing tongue, its body possessed honed edges that slice the very air itself, its wings were sharp and decorative though I suspect it is more than what meets the eye. “I brought you a partisan,” he said with a smile, as gentle as when he was Lucien’s age, “Its sides can deflects swords, your Elder Brother’s favorite weapon.” He stated, tone proud and rich with tenor reminding of autumn leaves waltzing. “I have to say, good job on picking one of the heavier polearms.” Lucien agreed, his fair hair bouncing. “I’m not well versed in lances like Your Highness’s uncle or Commander Giustino, but I do know the basics.” He stated, armored fingers deftly unhooking the calf-skin belt on his waist as he let his sheathed blade fall to the snow with little notice, Lucien backed away at a safe distance just as Louvel handed me the wooden staff. “You’ll need to get used with using a lance first.” His gaze turned serious, eyes narrowed as he crossed his arms. “Start swinging.” He ordered, voice harder than stone and colder than the weather.

I obliged, harnessing all the might my 15 year old self could muster and swung. Eyes tightly shut with only the gust as my lullaby, a moment later, my arms protested and ached, throbbing deep like a worm burrowing through rotting flesh. I slumped, feet barely supporting my body as my arms fell lifeless and drained. Smoke pouring out of my gaping mouth as I took in the frigid air. “Don’t overwork yourself, Princess Vivienne.” It was gentle this time, lifting my head as I met his eyes, half-lidded and warm, something as brewing deep within those verdant irises but he blinked several times before I could identify it. “Tell you what, start by swinging 10 ten times a day, rushing into training won’t do you any good, Princess Vivienne.” He strode near, my face met his plate armor and I saw my blue eyes staring at themselves, his gauntlets were cold against my bare skin, fingers prodding and running up and down sending jolts of lightning up my spine. “No muscles, soft, ladylike, unblemished…” his voice drifted, distracted and almost like thoughts he said to himself. “Ahem,” In unison, our heads perfectly matched up and we snapped our attentions to the source. Lucien’s azure eyes twinkled with annoyance, brows bent on wrinkling his face with his arms snaked around each other. “Could you, perhaps not seduce my sister? I would appreciate it, thank you.” His voice drenched with poison, moss-colored bile dripped from every syllable.

“Lucien, he is not seducing anyone.” I defended, Louvel immediately stepped back like a slave pouncing away at the sound of a whip cracking in prejudicial strumming. “I apologize, Prince Lucien! It won’t happen again!” he exclaimed, tone all high as he panicked with his forehead kissing the snow. “Could you stand up now? You catching a cold is unacceptable.” Lucien replied, nose up and stare unfeeling. Their illustrious azure glory returned when he poured his attention to me, though the cracks within them betrayed him. “I think I am going inside, I still have history lessons.” He bid, eyelashes fluttering shut as he skipped towards the gray mansion with pale marble columns smooth as Lucien’s skin when he was a newborn. When Father was…

“Louvel.” He raised his head, lips parted as queries filled his gaze. Motioning for him stand, he obliged and just now I start to notice. “When did you become so tall? I remember other children constantly pester you for your height.” He chuckled, finally something! “Do you remember your cousins attempting to drown me at your uncle’s manor? I won’t be here if you didn’t arrived in time.”

And yet I did nothing when Father was killed.

“I do, Thibauld and Plaisance were crying afterwards and you…” Not a hint of anger, you willingly forgave them even as you coughed out water. “Princess? Are you all right?” What did he say to you? What did Father told you before left for the last time? Why does he always confine in you? What was the meaning of that time when I saw you, Father and Rahnier together?

“Princess Vivienne?”

“Two weeks ago, before you were knighted, what did Father told you?” He froze, he betrayed no emotions even as I stared at his eyes which were now firm and unyielding, his lips were thin and slightly chapped, shoulders tensed as his pauldrons were ever so slightly shaking, a newly hatched robin searching for its mother’s warmth. But his feet, they faltered, smoothing snow away as they buried themselves, and his fingers…

Desperately grasped the air.

“I…I can’t tell you.” He shut his verdant eyes, fists balling as he turned away. Exasperated ghostly billows left my lips as I planted the staff into the pale frigid blanket. “At the very least, please give me a reason.” At this point, I was begging. All I had to do was to go down on my knees and cry and wail and shout. Fluttering open, his gaze affixed everywhere except to me, his brows were shaking not out of anger, but of uncertainty. Like when you know your death’s near but are unsure of where it will originate.

Father’s death was such.

“Before the Knighting Ceremony at the throne room, King Roul, your father asked me for one thing.” Father…why? Steadying his breath as he straightened himself, stepping near till his warmth repelled the chilling wind. “That I protect you and I swear this, I’ll do whatever it takes just to keep you safe. Even if it costs me my life.” He took my hands, cradling them and when I looked up…

His smile shone brighter than the Sun, radiant than the Moon.

“I can’t tell you the rest,” he whispered, lowering his head to my hands as cold fingers ran along my back. His lips barely touch my knuckles and yet it elicited such a powerful and dazing sensation. Goodness, what is this feeling? Why does my heart beat so? Why do my cheeks feel like melting? “Until then, could you wait for me?” His voice knocked, like angels in choir with a bard’s lute.

“Only if you help me train, I have people I want to protect.”

Louvel blinked dumbly, his saving grace his attractive features and the admiration I held for his skills. If he can help me,

Then Lucien, Mother and Rahnier will not suffer the same fate as Father.

“As you wish, my Princess.”

“One last request,”

He raised his head, smile intact and brilliant as his verdant irises with honey glazed all over them. “Whenever we are alone, please call me by my name.” Vivienne, Vivienne! Chimed a child, giggling all boyish and happily. I remember my heart threatening to burst forth with the elation I felt every time he sees me and calls out to me like a puppy, if I can just…

“As you wish, Vivienne.”

Her golden locks fluttered along the frigid breeze her country is famous for, her hands trembled within her knight’s grasp, her mind plagued with her inability to save her father and yet, she smiled. The Knight’s cheeks warmed at the sight, cold somehow melting away to give way for his maiden’s glory and at that moment…

His heart, already dancing to her tune, took flight the same way it did those years ago.