Kile Woodwork had known Eadlyn Schreave since birth. He had seen her grow up and change so, so much. He had always kept his distance because he knew that they weren't friends, not really, just the faintest of acquaintances.

But he was falling in love with her and he didn't know what to do.

He didn't put his name in the Selection, because he didn't like her or the prospect of possibly becoming her husband, which would never happen anyway. But someone put his name in and he had been forced to endure her. At that point, he still didn't like her, by any means. In fact, she had seemed harsher than usual.

But then the banquet came and she had come over, telling him to meet her at 8 in her room. He hated to do so, but oh well. He was sure he would be executed for treason or something if he didn't.

So he went upstairs and knocked on her door. But as soon as he entered her room, he was faced with a different Eadlyn Schreave. Scheming and sarcastic as ever, yes, but somehow softer. Understanding. And she actually took interest in his work, when he explained it.

He took her to his room to see his architecture drawings and models and cringed as he entered his old room. The Princess shouldn't have to come into this pigsty, he thought immediately, and he could tell that she was repulsed. But when he showed her his sketches and models, her eyes widened and he could tell she was a little enchanted. He even denied the fact that architecture was his life dream and pretended it was a hobby, but she refused to accept that. They talked on his couch and as they did, something seemed to click, something he couldn't quite recognize.

He sensed Eadlyn's cold exterior slowly wearing off, revealing something that was much more rare.

He glanced at his watch, and though he hated to admit it, they were late. So he led her out the door and offered her his hand, as an act of heroism. Her hand was much warmer than he'd expected, and before he knew it, they were in front of her room.

"So...Goodnight." he whispered tentatively, after pushing away any apprehensiveness, and leaned down to capture her lips in his.

He almost immediately pulled back, because he was not ready for the torrent of emotion that hit him.

He gathered his senses and leaned down again, mind rattled. He was fully ready to be disgusted, repulsed, revolted by the kiss. He was prepared to give a chaste kiss and get it over with. But he found he couldn't do that, not with Eadlyn's soft lips against his own. Not with his hand cupping her soft cheek, holding her closer to him. Not with this feeling that was spreading within him.

He eventually broke away, but stayed close enough, just so that their noses were touching, because he couldn't quite find it in himself to break the warm atmosphere. Not yet. "Do you think that was enough?" he asked, breaking the strangely comfortable silence. "I - um - I don't know" she replied, eyes downcast. He smirked inwardly, glad to see that she was just as flustered as he was.

"Just to be sure." He whispered, really just as an excuse to kiss her again. He leant down again, and the same feeling enveloped both of them, only heightening when Eadlyn wrapped her fingers in his hair. He felt strangely satisfied in this position, kissing the girl he had had a slight crush on at the age of seven, something he thought had diminished. Apparently, it had just remained dormant until this moment, when they were wrapped so tightly in each others arms they were oblivious to the world around them.

Reluctantly, he pulled away, telling himself that you did your duty, that's all, that's it, don't go back. His mind was in such a haze he barely noticed Eadlyn's lips following his for just a millisecond when he broke the connection. But he did notice something different in her eyes, something more, glittering in the light of the hall.

"Thank you"she murmured, breathless. "Anytime. I mean - you know what I mean." he stumbled, chuckling. "Goodnight, Kile" she said, almost hanging on to the words. "Goodnight, Eadlyn." he said, and he kissed her cheek gently and stepped away. He went down the stairs to his new room, trying to ignore both the invisible strings that were pulling him back to Eadlyn and the feeling of her eyes watching him go, which made avoiding her so much harder. He managed to make it to his room before he collapsed on the bed.

What was this feeling, enveloping him, tendrils reaching into his chest and head? He had never felt it before. But god forbid, the first time he felt it was with the bratty, spoiled Eadlyn Schreave. Who, upon further insight, wasn't acting as such from the moment he stepped into her room tonight.

Kile was confused. Tormented, even, because Eadlyn Schreave was not supposed to be making him feel this way. Not Eadlyn Schreave, who had always teased him, whom he had always teased back. Not Eadlyn Schreave, the Princess whose room was just 30 yards away from his. Not her.

Kile couldn't be falling in love with her.

But he was.

And he didn't know what to do.