It was a mistake. Tristan knew it the moment his lips had brushed against hers by the way her body froze. He jumps back from her, feeling his eyes widen as panic settles in. He hadn't meant for that to happen. But the way she was looking at him, the way her eyes had softened with understanding . . . he hadn't been able to control himself. And he had hoped that she wouldn't mind it.

  But of course she would. Zerena likely had never been kissed before, not when she grew up a slave. He withdraws his hand from hers, giving her space, but she stops him. Her dainty fingers grip his wrist, forcing him to keep looking at her. She wasn't gazing at him with disgust or horror. He couldn't tell what she was thinking at all. He could feel a heavy sensation of dread as she opens her mouth to speak.

  "I'm not upset." Zerena says calmly, her expression still unreadable. He could feel her fingers trembling against his wrist. "I don't know if I should be or not. That . . . That was my first kiss."

  She leans towards him, closing the distance Tristan had put between them.

  "I know that we shouldn't . . . that I shouldn't..." She trails off, and Tristan tries to hide his surprise as she pulls him closer. This time, it was her lips that brushed against his. They were like the petals of a dainty flower, and the Prince couldn't help but to wrap his arm around her small torso. It had only been a week since her arrival to the palace, but already he could feel her beginning to fill out, if only a little. Proper food and rest suited her well. She was soft, and warm, and he wanted nothing more than to remove that cloak of hers.

  But he doesn't. Instead, he closes his eyes and focuses on the wonderful sensation of her mouth against his. Her arms loop around the back of his neck as she deepens the kiss. She smelled of lavender and rose petals, and her touch was as gentle as she was.

  It was over too soon.

  Zerena pulls back slightly, her pale cheeks flushed and her breathing slightly ragged. Tristan reaches his hand up to smooth her hair back behind her ear, marveling at how soft the blue strands feel between his fingers.

  "We shouldn't be doing this." She whispers, that look of uncertainty passing over her again. "If someone catches us.."

  Tristan hated it, but he knew she was right. If the King somehow found out about this –

  His warning rang in his head like a bell.

  "I'll have them all hanged."

  Gently, the prince pulls his hand away, allowing the strands of her hair to slip through his fingers. The moon flower he had placed on her earlier had fallen off at some point, and was sitting at the edge of the blanket. Her sandwich had been forgotten as well, it's contents spilling against the ground. The last thing Tristan wanted was for Zerena to be hurt.

  The woman scoots herself away, and he swears he can see disappointment in her eyes as she stands. He watches in silence as she picks up the fallen moon flower and places it gently in the pocket of her cloak. Tristan stands as well, grabbing her sleeve lightly before she can begin packing up.

  "I swear to you, I will make things right."

  Zerena looks at him one last time, her lips lifting into a small smile.

  "You will make a great king, Your Highness."

  The Prince didn't want to risk being seen alone with Zerena, so they had parted ways at the stables. Clouds were now partially covering the moon, but the glow of the sconces coming from the palace had given her just enough light to make it back inside. The guard stationed at the door said nothing, had not even acknowledged her as she stepped through into the passageway.

  Back in her chambers and with her door securely closed, Zerena takes a moment to lean against it, a hand against her chest. She could feel the steady thrum of her heart-beat beneath her skin and closes her eyes.

  Stolen novel; please report.

  What the hell?

  This was dangerous, and she knew it. If anyone had seen them together, the Prince's plan could fall apart. The King would no doubt send them all back, but still, Zerena had never had an experience like that – she had never spent much time alone with a boy, not even before she was snatched from her home and sold. At the Farmhouse, there was no time for romance. Everyone was focused on making it to the next day in one piece.

  But the Prince wasn't at all how she had imagined him to be. He wasn't overly full of himself . . . he had spoken to her like a person. Like an equal. Never in her few encounters with him had he ever talked down to her. There was true kindness in his eyes, and she meant what she had said when she told him he'd make a great king. And though she hadn't felt anything but friendship for him before . . . that kiss.

  That kiss. The prince kissed me.

  Zerena felt a bit guilty for it. The Prince had visited her only moments after Rosale had left, which hadn't given her time to fully process their conversation. She shouldn't be wasting her time by kissing Tristan, she should be trying to find out whether her friend's theory was correct. If that girl had been kidnapped, then Zerena had to find out where she was taken. She needed to be rescued.

  But how would she even go about doing that? Zerena would have to speak with Princess Clara tomorrow, if possible. Maybe she could help in someway, if she really claimed to be on her side.

  Straightening suddenly, Zerena removes her cloak and the other clothing she wore hastily before slipping back into her nightgown. She places the moon flower on the nightstand next to her bed. As she drifts off to sleep, her heart gives a painful twinge as she wonders what her mother would think of her now, if she were still here.

  She was back in her home town, nine year old Zerena sitting on the small mattress next to her bedridden mother. She was leaning her head against her shoulder, their hands clasped. The doctor had left only moments prior, but the news they had been given was grim.

  Her mother was dying.

  Tears were rolling down Zerena's cheeks and she had to swallow hard to keep her sobs from bubbling up. The door swings open again, and she looks up at the man, her father, who had taken only a single step into the room. She feels her mother's weight shifting and the girl lifts her head from her shoulder.

  "It's true, then?" Nolan questions flatly, his features sharp.

  "Yes," Sarah responds, her voice soft. "The doctor says I have about six months left."

  "And what of the girl?" Zerena knew he was speaking about her and frowned. Why couldn't he just talk to her directly? She knew her father had no love for her . . . that he thought of her as nothing but a pest that he couldn't rid himself of.

  "Nolan," Her mother's voice sharpens to a tone Zerena rarely heard her use before, and she looks towards the woman in surprise. "She is your daughter. You must look after her."

  "That was not the agreement." Nolan sneers, and Zerena flinches. Although she should be used to it, his bitter resentment towards her still stings her young heart.

  "There's no where else for her to go," Sarah's voice trembles now and she sits a bit straighter. Zerena moves so that her little feet touch the cool surface of the wooden floor.

  She knew she should leave. Her mother didn't like it when Nolan spoke like this around her. Normally, he was decent about keeping his feelings about his daughter to himself. Zerena glances at her mother, who nods at her, a silent notion that she should go outside. Before she moves to leave, Sarah gives the girl's hand a gentle squeeze.

  As Zerena approaches the door, Nolan moves to block the exit. She can feel his icy gaze on her even as she forces herself to keep looking at the floor.

  "I think she should hear this. You won't be around to protect her forever anymore, after all." This has her looking up. She can feel her nails digging into her palms as she curls her little fists. "Do you know what the law is, Zerena?" He spat her name like a curse.

  She shakes her head, unable to voice a response. She felt as if a lump of coal were in her throat, preventing her from speaking.

  "If you don't have a parent willing to claim you, you will be sent to work for the kingdom." Nolan grins at that, and it was the first time she ever saw even a hint of a smile from her elven father. "And I am certainly not willing to claim you as my own."

  "Nolan!" Sarah's voice is raised now, though she was too weak to get out of bed. "That's enough. Leave her alone. We will speak about this, alone."

  Zerena could feel her eyes welling up again, and she blinks rapidly to try to keep the tears from spilling. But that only made them fall faster. And the sight of her emotions only seemed to agitate Nolan even more.

  "Get out of my sight," He sniffs, not a strand of his creamy white, longe hair falling out of place as he jerks his head and steps aside. She slips past him and aims for her own bedroom, where she could no longer contain herself. She collapses atop her bed, her body shaking with each sob that leaves her.

  Why was this happening? What had she done to make her father hate her so much? Why had her mother chosen him of all people to be with? Most of all, why was her mother being taken away from her? She didn't understand it, and she didn't think she ever would.

  Zerena jerks awake at the sound of something pounding on her door rapidly. She blinks, lifting a hand to rub the sleep from her eyes, surprised when she feels that her cheeks were wet. She hastily wipes them dry before rising, grabbing her robe to throw over her nightclothes. She could see that it was still dark out, which meant that it had to be early morning. She still had a few hours before she would have to get ready.

  The pounding comes again, louder this time, and she bites back a curse before opening the door a crack, barely wide enough for her body to fit through. Her eyebrows draw together when she sees who it is, and she tilts her head.

  "Leo?" She questions, keeping her voice low. "What are you doing here?"

  "The Princess has requested for me to train you." He states, leaning his right forearm against the door frame. He was dressed in a loose, long sleeved white shirt and tan breeches. Zerena blinks at him, shaking her head.

  "Training? For what?"

  "She believes it would be best if you learned the basics of defending yourself, if ever the time came for it." There was something hidden in his words and his tone was all too knowing. Was he in on whatever Princess Clara was planning? But . . . he was a full human. What could he possibly have to gain from getting involved? And why would Clara want to include him?

  "But I have to get ready in a few hours. Is there even time?"

  "If you hurry up and get dressed, yes. We'll only spend an hour. You're not strong enough yet to handle full-blown training, but we have to start somewhere, right?" The right corner of Leo's mouth lifts into a smirk. "If I were you, I'd wear something that's easy to move in."