Astoria

t w e n t y - t w o

Antony watched Meredith as she disappeared into the crowd, on her way to deliver her letter. He shook his head, and turned, walking down the street, keeping his head low to avoid instant recognition as the king.

He found his thoughts wandering back to Isabella's new companion. When he had imagined the girl that Isabella had found friendship in, it had certainly not been someone like this that had come to mind.

There was something strange about her.

She was demure and small, and a mere servant, and yet she carried herself with the same sort of regal posture that might be observed in a member of the royal house. She seemed un-frightened of speaking to him, and while, if he were an ordinary king, this should probably have bothered him, he found himself surprised to find that it did not.

She was unlike any servant he had ever seen. While this made him curious about her, it also made him, at the same time, cautious.

Kade smiled up at the blonde girl who had opened her window to wave at him. He had been drilling the palace guard in the front courtyard, and had just dismissed them when she had greeted him from her second-story rooms.

She gestured for him to wait, and then disappeared from the window.

He felt warm inside just thinking about her. The Princess Isabella was unlike most princesses he had encountered, much different even than her own mother, the Princess Therese. When he had first found the princess crying in the greenhouse two days after she had arrived, he had been worried about her, and had stopped to inquire after her out of a sense of duty. His job was, after all, to protect the royal family.

She had surprised him by talking with him beyond the normal interaction between servant and royalty. At the end of their first meeting, she had asked him if she might talk to him again some other time. Her visits to him had become more and more frequent as time went on, and he had learned that her mother was trying to force her to marry a man she did not want to marry.

He had been worried when he had first found himself to be falling in love with Isabella. It was highly inappropriate for a mere soldier such as himself to be in love with a princess. Aside from that fact, he had just been promoted to a position of general, and his friendship with Antony had begun to grow. He didn't want the king to be angry at him for his feelings towards his cousin.

Isabella, one day, had surprised him by leaning up and kissing him on the cheek. She had brushed bright red and apologized profusely, and he couldn't help himself any longer. He had taken her hands in his, and kissed her softly, once, before pulling away.

"I'm sorry," he had said. "I had to do it...at least once. Because I'm in love with you, Isabella of Westerholme."

"And I with you," she had said, leaning her head on his shoulder.

There had been things to figure out: the biggest one was whether or not to tell her cousin the king. Isabella had decided that, for now, Antony had enough to be worried about, and, aside from that, she didn't need her mother or her cousin in her affairs at all times.

So they had contented themselves to quiet riverbank picnics, a few soft kisses, nothing more, stolen beneath the willow trees, or a quiet chat when he found her working in the greenhouse.

And every day, his love for her grew and grew.

His smile widened as she exited the palace and ran across the courtyard, throwing her arms around his neck and kissing him on the cheek.

"Kade!" she said, breathlessly. "Was not dancing together last night wonderful?"

"It was the best night of my life, I think," he said. "My favorite part was when your cousin decided to introduce us, completely unknowing, of course, about our relationship."

"I really don't think that Antony would mind...about us. But my mother most likely would. Of course, I don't really care about what either of them thinks, really...Because I love you, Kade."

"I love you too, Isabella."

They walked off, hand in hand, to the river bank once more, Isabella holding a basket of food in one hand.

Sawyer strode into Nathan's tent, his expression sulky. Spad, for once, was not in attendance.

Nathan simply raised one eyebrow and continued looking through the papers before him. He could hear Sawyer breathing heavily, and knew he was waiting for some sign to speak. Nathan narrowed his eyes, then sighed, annoyed.

"Yes? Did you need something?" he asked in a clipped tone.

"Our spies have brought back distressing reports."

"What do you mean by 'distressing'?"

Sawyer hesitated, before standing up a bit straighter, his shoulders, however, still hunched, in that manner that so annoyed Nathan.

"The King has reversed the orders to withdraw troops," he spat, letting his disgust at this piece of news show. 

Nathan set down the papers and looked up, suddenly invested in Sawyer's words. "What?" he hissed.

"Troops will still be withdrawn, but the number has been drastically decreased. If we were to attack the king's army, we would be flattened."

Nathan slammed a fist down on the table in anger. After a few moments of heavy breathing in an attempt to control his frustration, he pulled himself straight against the back of his chair.

"Very well. Continue to work on increasing our numbers."

"Yes sir," growled Sawyer, before retreating from the tent.

Nathan swept the papers from his desk and studied the map that was tacked to his desk. He took a piece of charcoal from last evening's fire and drew a large, dark 'x' over the capitol of Astoria. Someday, somehow, the king would be dead, and Astoria would be his. It may not be today, but that only made the odds of his success greater.

Until then, he would bide his time.