a kindred spirit

People often told tales of a legendary master thief with bright blond hair and clear blue eyes, a wicked smile always adorning his lips. Of course, it was all just rumour. No one knew precisely what he looked like for he was so seldom seen, but one thing that was agreed upon was how light-footed, how nimble and quick he was. He stole the possessions of the wealthy and gave them to the poor.

A gentleman thief, one might say. The rich nobles despised him, and the peasants saw him as their saviour. Still, though rumours flew around and there were numerous posters placed promising a great reward if this thief was captured, no one ever betrayed him. He was loved by the common folk. No one knew why he did this, of course. Everyone wanted to know, but he kept himself hidden.

His name was Kagamine Len. His background was unknown, and why he chose a life of secrecy and thievery was unknown too. But he had never once been caught, and sometimes people wondered if he really existed or if he was just a myth, that those responsible for the thefts were actually a large group of people all working behind the mask of one man. For how could one person achieve all this?

Kagamine Len was the only one who knew anything about himself, of course. But he liked it that way. It gave him quite the mysterious air, although at times he felt a little lonely. The loneliness passed quickly though, and he would cheer himself up with the knowledge that he had just obtained yet another treasure to add to his prized collection.

"Really?" the thief asked, leaning against the parapet. "You wouldn't give them to me, even if I asked really nicely?" he smiled at her charmingly. It was a smile which had worked on quite a few women in the past, though of course at that time they didn't know that he was the legendary master thief.

"No, and you know I won't," the girl answered, sounding amused. He tilted his head, watching her. It had been a month, he had visited her every night without fail and she still had yet to budge. It was very strange how she was able to resist him like that, especially since she was a girl. He knew he was pretty handsome, so there was that. "You should give up. There are other treasures for you to find, you need not target mine so specifically," she looped some hair behind her ear, watching him.

"Yes, but none are owned by someone as stunning as you," he answered, and he meant every word he said. The girl who watched over the Five Rings of Izar…she was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen, and that said something because he had seen plenty of girls throughout his travels. This was the princess of Arabelle, and the Rings were their national pride and treasure. It was said that each ring was set with a magical stone that embodied a certain power, and when the five rings came together the owner was certain to prosper. True enough, Arabelle was indeed a marvellous place.

The state was wealthy, there was little to no crime, the streets were fairly safe to walk at night and the people adored their princess. There was no king or queen, and the princess had yet to ascend to the throne – Arabelle considered only those who were twenty years of age to be adults, meaning she had two more years to go. At the moment, the state was governed by its ministers, who often advised the princess on how to run state affairs. The princess's main duty was to guard the rings.

Len wanted them. Not so much because he craved their power for himself, but rather as a sign that he could really steal anything he wanted to. He actually had an entire list of royal treasures to collect and the rings just happened to be the second last on his list. After this, he would go to Tannin to find the Scorpius Sceptre, which did quite the opposite of the Izar Rings and apparently unleashed the fires of hell upon any person unfortunate enough to anger its owner, but until he got the rings he would not leave for the sceptre. This little princess seemed determined to mess up his plans, however.

He was not one to give up. In fact, Len was extremely persistent. He loved a challenge, and stealing the Five Rings of Izar was a clear challenge. He found that he could not back down – he was curious to see if he could succeed in swaying the princess to his will. But the more time he spent here, with the quiet royal, the more he wondered if he was staying for the rings or staying for the girl herself.

The princess of Arabelle, Hatsune Miku, was beautiful. There was no denying that. Men all across the land sought her hand, but she never paid her suitors any heed, only concerned with learning how to rule and properly control the power of the Rings of Izar. She might take on a husband in the future, but it was known that as of now, she wasn't interested in romance or marriage. Despite the stories, Len had never realised just how breath-taking the princess was until he saw her up close for the first time, waiting for him outside the castle's treasury. How she knew he was coming, he had no idea.

From her, he found out that the Five Rings of Izar were kept in an enchanted jewellery box in her own bedchamber, where she was the only person who knew the enchantment that would unlock the box. So stealing the jewellery box by itself would be quite useless. She actually passed him the box and invited him to try and pry it open through sheer brute force, and he had been unable to do so. According to her, no other sorcerer or sorceress could unlock the box, and though Len was quite tempted to run away with the box to test her claim, she added that she would know if he ever took off with the box, and he wouldn't get far before he was caught by the castle guards. So he never did.

He found that the best way was to perhaps convince the princess to willingly pass them over to him, but she had stubbornly refused all his attempts at persuasion thus far. It was surprising that she was even willing to let him come to her – despite being aware that he was a thief, she still allowed him to visit her every night, and after his usual attempts to charm her, they would end up talking about all sorts of different things. She was wise beyond her years, and he was fascinated by her.

Sometimes, he would see her meditating in her room, sitting cross-legged on top of her bed with her eyes closed and her palms pressed together in front of her chest. He would try to surprise her during those moments, but she always knew when he was coming, as though she could somehow hear even his stealthy footsteps. The princess was remarkably insightful and could easily match him in a battle of wits, so he held a grudging sort of respect for her. It was the first time Len had met anyone whom he would consider his equal in debate, and perhaps the knowing glimmer in her eyes indicated that she was aware of this fact as well. But what could he say? She truly was a very special person.

"Did I ever tell you that sometimes, I can see into the future?" they were both standing out on the balcony, the night wind fresh and cool against their faces. The intoxicating scent of roses wafted up from the gardens below, and he took in a deep breath, enjoying the subtle perfume of the flowers. "It's a gift that only awakens within a few members of my bloodline. Once every few centuries, one child from my family will be born with the gift of clairvoyance, and it just so happened that this time, it awoke within me."

"So you can see people's futures?" he asked, curious. She nodded. The princess was slim and petite, her small frame hiding the fact that she was probably the most powerful person in not just Arabelle, but in the entire country too. All the rulers of the various states were magically gifted, but Arabelle royalty had a long tradition of being extremely attuned to their magic, and the princess was clearly no exception to that. "Have you seen my future then?" he smiled. The princess pursed her lips.

"I have," she answered him carefully. "But I am afraid that I cannot tell you what I saw," she added before he could even ask. His face fell, and she turned towards him, her expression grave. Her clear green eyes met his, filled with a wisdom far beyond her years. "It is not the privilege of mortals to know their future, and those with the gift are bound to secrecy. What I can say though, is that the future isn't set in stone, and every action you make now can change your path. What I see now is not fixed – I only see possibilities, the future that appears to be the most probable at the moment."

He blinked. "That makes it sound like I'm going to have a terrible future," he frowned. The princess definitely didn't seem too optimistic. She gave him a gentle smile and shook her head, refusing to say anything more about the matter, before she turned to look up at the moon. Len took that to mean that she was going back inside soon – he knew she usually didn't stay out for too long. "Hey, before you go," he spoke, causing her to look back down from the night sky, "here, have this." He held out a beautifully blooming rose, and the princess's eyes widened. "I'll see you tomorrow night, maybe?"

She hesitantly took hold of the flower. The perfume was sweet, the heavy head drooping slightly, dark red in the moonlight. "When did you get this…?" she began to ask, knowing that the thief had been emptyhanded when he first came to see her. Before she could continue, she felt a gust of wind whoosh past her, and when she looked up to where the blond thief had been standing just seconds ago, he was already gone.

Hatsune Miku was lonely. It wasn't something she ever admitted to, being the princess of Arabelle, but she was wise and lonely beyond her years. So she was glad when the thief began to visit her.

She couldn't remember if she had ever not been lonely. When she was born her parents knew she had the gift, though to her it was more of a curse. She never wanted to rule. But she was surrounded, all her life, by people who grovelled to her and tried to get onto her good side, simply because she was the princess who could see into the future. It was practically a given that she would be the next heir, which was something her older siblings were unhappy about. Her parents had them sent away out of fear they would sabotage her ascension to the throne.

Her older siblings did return to try and seize power when they turned of age two years ago, but her parents managed to defend the state. Her entire family passed away during the uprising however, leaving only her – and the fighting only ceased because she used the Rings. But honestly, her parents already knew they would not survive the fight. She was the one who had told them the unfortunate news, and before her siblings returned they assembled a cabinet of ministers to help her govern until she could take the throne herself. She hated it, knowing they would die but being unable to help them – no matter which future she desperately looked into, there were none where they managed to survive.

She sighed, clasping her hands together and closing her eyes, lowering her head. The night sky was beautiful tonight. The full moon reminded her of that day where her siblings returned to declare war and make known their unhappiness. She hated this gift of clairvoyance, but it wasn't something she could just suppress and run away from. It was as much a part of her as the rest of her magic was, it lived in her blood and her bones. It was only in death that she could escape what she had been born with.

Her thoughts drifted to the gentleman thief. He was a strange man with a strange personality. She found it entertaining in fact, how he seemed so persistent about getting the Five Rings of Izar. Miku could tell that he was not a bad man, but she couldn't for the life of her understand why he would want the rings so terribly. The rings would not be of any use to someone besides the ruler of Arabelle. So what was he trying to prove, that he could take any treasure in the world should he set his mind to it? She smiled, shaking her head. The thief had to understand first that the greatest treasures in the world were not material. Until then, she would continue to refuse him and his advances.

The rose he gave her bloomed beautifully in the glass vase, and she walked over to it, fingering the vivid scarlet petals. The rose was heavy, the head drooping slightly, and she let her fingertip press lightly against the sharp thorns. It was a beautiful flower that could hurt you if you weren't careful enough, much like the person who had given it to her. The thief, whose name she was never told, was clearly hurting on the inside. But why, she did not know. She wasn't sure if she wanted to find out.

The thief sat cross-legged on the parapet, and the princess sighed. "You will fall off if you do that," she cautioned, not even bothering to chase him away today. He only ever came to her at night, when the guards were sleeping and there was no one watching. The ministers were so protective of her that if the thief was discovered talking to her this way, things would become…troublesome.

"Not if you're me," he answered carelessly, but getting off the slim railing anyway. "Well, you already know what I want – so I suppose you won't be giving them to me today either, will you?" he asked playfully. He had spent the past three months in Arabelle, visiting the princess every night and always making the same request. And, as always, she shook her head peacefully. He let out a sigh. "Well, it was good to hope for a little bit. If you had said yes then I think I would have been rather disappointed."

"Why?" she asked, meeting his gaze. Her green eyes were as calm as the tranquil night sky. Arabelle had amazing stars. They were scattered all over the indigo darkness like a spangled tapestry, winking playfully down at the citizens. He quite liked this place, actually. It was a little boring compared to the other states because of how safe it was, but he preferred it safe rather than too dangerous. Len was not particularly fond of danger or excitement. Nothing wrong with looking for a peaceful home.

"Because if you gave them to me, then I wouldn't have a reason to come back here anymore," he met her gaze. She blinked, her eyes widening in surprise, and he looked away from her, back up at the night sky. "It's really beautiful," he observed. "I wouldn't mind living here, actually. But being a thief means that it's really difficult to settle down for too long. I'll get restless…I always have to be on the move," he smiled. "This is the longest I've ever stayed in one place, you know."

"Why, because of me?" she took a careful step towards him, tilting her head inquisitively. He didn't say anything in response, keeping his gaze fixed on the night sky. "You know, you never told me your name, great master thief," he could hear the smile in her words. "I know of your exploits. Many noblemen want to capture you since you pilfer from the rich and give to the poor. A traditional hero, the saviour of the common folk, are you not?" he still did not respond. "So let me ask you this – why are you doing this, master thief? What happened in your past to make you abandon everything you once knew?"

He stiffened. "What do you know about me?" he turned, finally looking back at her. He seemed almost nervous. The princess didn't respond, her gaze fixed on him, patiently awaiting an answer. He sighed, raking a hand through his blond hair. The climb up to the princess's balcony had dishevelled his hair somewhat, but he looked no worse for his efforts. "You ask for my name, princess? There are not many who know of it, but you might find it familiar if I tell you what it is. My name is Kagamine Len."

She made a sound of recognition. "Kagamine Len…the missing youngest son of the King of Fayle?" she asked. He nodded, looking almost resigned. "But…why?" she shook her head in wonderment. "Fayle is rich in natural resources and talent, despite being one of the smallest states in the country. The royal family has considerable magical ability as well – not on par with Arabelle certainly, but definitely powerful. As a prince, you must have had everything that you might have ever wanted in your old home. What are you doing out here?"

The stories of the mysterious thief started six years ago. He must have been fourteen then. It matched the year the youngest prince of Fayle disappeared. The thief sighed, the look in his eyes pensive. It was the first time she had seen him this way – normally he was charming and light-hearted, carefree in a way which made her almost envious. "Fayle prides itself in the art of magical warfare. Though we admit that Arabelle has a better grasp of the magical arts overall, our skill with battle magic has long been acknowledged in this region. Me, though…I was not born with the same talents as the rest of my family. My magic is limited to parlour tricks. I would be useless in a fight," he shrugged. "They never blamed me, and I was not unhappy because of them. But I always felt…inferior to the others, somehow."

She thought she might understand how he felt. Though she had never been inferior – it was quite the opposite, actually – she also knew what it felt like to be different from the rest of her family. "Did you run away because of that?" she asked. She had thought of running away before too. She did, in a way. To avoid the nobles who so desperately tried to talk to her, to obtain her favour, she always declined invitations to balls and social gatherings, becoming a recluse to protect herself from the superficiality of the aristocracy. They just wanted to take advantage of the fact that she would one day be the ruler. She wouldn't allow these people to make use of her. She had to protect the rings…

"Yes and no. I ran away because I saw how corrupted my family's advisors were. Since there was no chance that I would ever be king, the other nobles were less careful about their behaviour around me," he hesitated. "I saw them stealing from the poor to feed their own overinflated coffers. The peasants in Fayle suffered, and my family did nothing, blind as they were to their ministers and advisors. They did not believe me when I told them of the corruption. The few tricks I can do with my magic make me fast and nimble, quick to the eye and silent to the ears. I realised that if my family would not do anything, then I could take matters into my own hands and help the poor to rise up against the oppression of the upper-class. So one day, I ran away, and I've been living this way ever since."

She understood him a little better now. The missing prince of Fayle…people thought that he was dead by now. She remembered seeing him once before, when she was a child. He was two years older than her. Back then she was only eight, and the thief must have been ten. It was during a diplomatic party between the magical nations in the country, and her parents had forced her to go despite her initial reluctance. She did not pay the prince very much attention during the party as he had been quiet and reserved, staying close to his rather large family, but now that he revealed his true identity she found herself remembering what he was like. The young prince seemed very different from the way he was now.

"I saw you once. During the Titania gathering," she mentioned. He tilted his head, curious, and a sudden flash of remembrance passed through his eyes. "You were there with your family I think. I remember you. You spoke to me, asked if you could eat my cake if I wasn't going to touch it," she smiled wryly. As children both of them had been less interested in social graces and etiquette, so she allowed the prince to take her dessert and polish it off while the adults all spoke about legislation and illegal trade in the magical artefacts market. The thief laughed as he recalled the same memory.

"Oh, yes. That was so long ago…it felt like another lifetime for me," he shook his head. "You were a shy little girl back then. I can't believe I forgot about that so completely…yes, you were so scared to be there that you spent most of the time hiding behind your older sister. I can't even remember her name or what she looks like anymore, but I remember you because it was so funny, watching you."

"My older sister is dead," she felt a pang of grief shoot through her. Though her older brother and sister both had wanted the throne for themselves and hated the fact that she, the youngest child, had claim to the kingdom, they were still her siblings and she loved them. When they were children, they had been kind and sweet to her, protecting her from their parents whenever she got into trouble. It was only when they became older that her siblings started pulling away from her…

The thief's face fell. Actually, she wasn't sure if she ought to continue addressing him as the thief or if she should just call him the prince now, since he revealed his true identity to her. "It's all right," she reassured him, "I have accepted her death, and that of the rest of my family as well, and moved on with the hope that they are all watching over me now," she gazed fondly up at the night sky, looking at all the twinkling stars. It was said that each star represented someone's soul, and she wondered which ones belonged to her family. "But besides that," she added, looking back down at the thief, "why do you steal treasures, then? I understand taking from the rich to give to the poor, but why do you want to take the Rings of Izar? Their value is not in their price, but in their magic."

"I don't know," the thief shrugged. "Just to prove that I can sneak past even the tightest fortresses and take the most heavily guarded treasures, I suppose. Nothing can stop me, not the sword nor magic itself," he gave her an intense stare, as though challenging her to refute that statement. She did not respond, and after a while he seemed to deflate a little. "But it seems that with you I have hit a stumbling block," he mused, "for the princess of Arabelle is steadfast in her refusal, is she not?"

"That's certainly true," she acknowledged. The thief shrugged again and hopped gracefully up to the parapet, spreading his arms out and tilting his face up towards the moon. She watched, concerned but aware that he could look after himself. "You do not need to resort to stealing treasures just to prove that you are of use," she said quietly, watching him. She knew he could hear her, though he did not react to her words. "There are greater things in the world than material gains, prince of Fayle."

"Like?" he looked down at her, raising an eyebrow. "True love? You jest. I did not think you to be so sentimental," he grinned, crouching down to pat her on the head. She stiffened, startled by the unexpected gesture. "You are very cute, princess. I might fall for you if you aren't careful," he shot her a wink. "You need not expect me tomorrow night, but in exchange I placed a rose in your vase while you were meditating, a white one. I trust you are familiar with the language of flowers," he whispered.

With that, he snapped his fingers and vanished into thin air. She blinked at where he last stood and turned to exit the balcony, heading straight towards her glass vase – just as the thief said, there was a delicate ivory rose standing next to her scarlet one now, creating a subtle fragrance that filled up her entire bedroom. She reached out to the white petals. He was right, she knew what it meant.

New beginnings or farewells. Along with the red rose, which symbolised eternal love and romance. Her cheeks warmed a little. Or perhaps she was simply reading too much into the thief's actions.

Len surveyed his old home, the grand palace of Fayle standing tall on the cliff that overlooked the entire kingdom. His cloak rustled in the breeze, and he shivered slightly in the night chill. Fayle was further up north than Arabelle, with its rich pastures and greenery. Fayle was cold, the kingdom enveloped by an everlasting winter. Even in summer there was barely any hint of green to be seen on the steep slopes.

The people here were cold and distant, the only time they ever displayed passion being when they were at war. And war was something the people engaged in often. Among themselves, with other states, between families and friends. He hated it, not so much because of the frequent arguments but rather because he was weak compared to the rest of his family. Of course, being the prince he possessed more magical ability than the commoners or even most of the aristocrats did, but he paled in comparison to his parents and his older siblings. They saw him as the baby of the family.

Well, he was. He couldn't refute that. With a heavy sigh, he crouched down and scooped up some of the powdery white snow which fell around him, on his cloak, the fine white snow so foreign to him now. He had spent most of his time in the warmer states down south, and the cold beauty of snow was something he had almost forgotten about. There was a tranquillity about the village tonight, an air of serenity that seemed very out-of-place for war-torn Fayle. Maybe it was because he was still reminiscing his conversation with the princess. He hadn't thought about his past in a while.

He never really had to, after all. He was a thief and most people were grateful that he was giving them money to survive. They never questioned who he was or where he came from. In fact, he did not even appear to his beneficiaries, instead choosing to leave the money or items outside the door and running off after knocking. The fewer people there were who knew about him, the better. He would like to keep to himself – he didn't want to be surrounded by people he could not trust, the way his family was.

Should he pay his parents a visit? He looked up at the palace with its tall spiralling towers and the graceful arches that welcomed the snow, the pride and joy of their state. It had an icy beauty that soothed the flames of passion and wrath – it was said that the people of Fayle were distant and aloof because the cold North wind blew through the palace and the village, chilling their hearts. But in the end Len decided that he was not yet ready to face his parents. Shrugging up his fur-lined hood, he turned away from the rocky summit and travelled back down the mountain, deciding that it was time to return to warmer lands. He didn't want to turn back into the young prince he once was.

The roses never withered. The thief, Len, never came back after he left either. She wondered where he went. Did he perhaps return to his homeland after their talk? It was good if he did, the runaway son finally decided to come home. But she didn't think that his problem was that easy to resolve.

She smiled, nevertheless. It was good that he had stopped coming to ask for the rings all the time. Though she admitted that she missed him a little, and it was actually rather lonely being by herself again, at least she knew that the rings were safe. That was the most important part, after all. It was her duty to keep the rings safe from harm, and if there was ever a need for it she would have to use their power to settle any problems. She looked at the glass vase again, watching the two roses.

They must have been enchanted to survive for so long without withering. She wrapped her fingers around the silky petals, feeling them caress her skin. They made her wonder about the person who had given them to her. What was he doing now? She wished to look into his future, but it wasn't something she could control on a whim. The visions often came to her when she least expected it. In times of desperation she might be able to summon them, but true desperation rarely came to her, and in this case she certainly was not pushed to that extent. She was curious, but not terribly so.

In his previous future, the one she saw was a lifetime of loneliness, for he was lonely without his family despite not admitting it to anyone. She saw herself in him, this prince who was at once so different from yet so similar to her. Both of them were outcast in their own families, her for being too powerful, him for being too weak. Both of them were loved but never fully accepted, and she felt like if he were to appear before her again, she might confide in him – let him know all the fear and sadness she felt while growing up, the secret resentment, the need to be left alone to her thoughts.

How much would he understand? At least he made active use of his gifts. He was the gentleman thief who stole from the rich to give to the poor. But she, as the princess of Arabelle who still had two years to go before she came of age, was little more than a bird trapped in a gilded cage. She had to protect the rings, but she had to be protected too. Nothing could befall the princess before she provided a heir to the throne, for only those of her bloodline could use the Five Rings. So she spent her time in the castle grounds, never leaving unless she was accompanied by one of the ministers.

The first night the thief came to her, she had been shocked that he could get past the guards and the defences, but at the same time she was delighted that there would be someone to talk to her – a person who did not nag at her the way the advisors did, nor did he grovel to her like the servants and the guards. He spoke to her like she was a normal person, though his usage of the word 'princess' indicated that he already knew who she was. She was fascinated by his easy charm and manner and did not call the guards, even finding his request for the Five Rings of Izar to be rather entertaining.

"Where are you, Kagamine Len?" she whispered, looking up at the starry night sky. The moon looked so graceful surrounded by all those stars, but at the same time it seemed so alone. She identified with the moon the most of all – surrounded by so many others, but never really seeming to fit in with any group. Yet with the young prince of Fayle, she might finally have found a kindred spirit.

"Hello," she came out to the balcony as the thief turned, smiling at her. He looked the same as ever, though it had been over a month since she last saw him. During that one month, she came out to the balcony every night, and tonight was no exception – just that tonight, he had actually returned.

"Where did you go?" she asked, not demanding an answer but just curious about what he had been doing. He sighed, sitting haphazardly on the parapet. She decided against warning him to be careful – he had heard her before plenty of times, and he never listened to her. He would be all right even if he fell off anyway. "You left without warning for an entire month, you know," she added mildly.

"I know that," he made a face. "Are you worried about me, princess?" he raised an eyebrow. She stared quietly at him and in the end his shoulders sagged. "I went back to my hometown. Fayle. I wanted to see what had changed during the six years I ran away…" he admitted. She waited patiently for him to continue and he cleared his throat before continuing. "I was about to leave when something, my intuition perhaps, told me that I should at least say hello to my parents. Though they are surrounded by corrupt advisors, my family has always loved me and cared for me. They surely must have been worried."

"So was that why you stayed there for a month?" she asked, interested. It was nice if Len could reconcile with his family. He hesitated for a moment before slowly nodding, and she exhaled in relief. "It is nice to see that you have spoken to them again. At least you have a family, even if you do not wish to be with them at the moment," she said wistfully, her green eyes acquiring a dreamy look.

He remembered that her entire family was dead and instantly felt sorry for her, but at the same time he knew that she would not wish to be reminded of that so he held his tongue. "We exchanged a few greetings, my family was overjoyed to see me…and I stayed with them for a few weeks, as my mother made me promise," he shook his head. "But they still cannot see the actions of the corrupt. Without proof nothing will ever be done, but I have nothing more than the stories from my youth to back up my words now. The ministers are careful around me," he gritted his teeth. "In the end I could not stand the secrecy and the lies, so I ran away again. Does that make me a coward?"

"No, it doesn't. It is simply a tactical retreat," she answered, and he relaxed a little. "But one day you should go back to expose the ministers so that your family will not continue to be deceived by them. It is something you ought to do, if you wish the best for them," she added carefully. The prince – or the thief, she was still unsure about which title he would prefer – nodded at that, keeping her words in mind. "But you are back here, of all places. Why return here after leaving Fayle?"

"I am curious," he admitted. "I would like to know more about my future, princess of Arabelle. Do you think you could give me a clue regarding what is to come? I don't know if I should go back home…my family told me that Fayle is preparing for war with Balthar, a state which has always been bigger and stronger than ours. But it is the last straw for my family, they are tired of Balthar's oppression. I should be there, preparing for war with them, but I am worth nothing in battle," he looked despondent. "What should I do, Miku?" he addressed her by her given name, which came as a bit of a shock to her.

"I cannot look into the future as and when I wish to," she inclined her head, "but if your biggest fear is the magical arts…" she hesitated. "Perhaps I can help you with that," she finally offered quietly. "My kingdom's most precious treasure is not the rings, though of course they are important and valuable. It is our magic, our knowledge, our skills. And as the princess," she clasped her hands together, parting them slowly to reveal a trapped beam of golden light between her palms, "I wield the strongest magic, and I know the most spells. If you like, I can teach you a few offensive spells."

Len was staring in fascination at the trapped beam of light, which danced and twisted between Miku's hands. The rays seemed to writhe within the beams, light made slow and viscous like molten lava. He reached a hand out towards it in wonder, but Miku clapped her hands back together. "No, I wouldn't touch that if I were you," she cautioned. "That light is beautiful, but deadly. A simple touch could fry a man," she concluded. Len hastily withdrew his hand. "Would you like my assistance?"

He remained silent for a while. "Why are you helping me?" he finally asked, his voice so small that it was almost inaudible. "Are you not afraid that I would come back to steal your rings using the spells that you have taught me? Or that my family would one day wage war against Arabelle? And if spells are something your people value more than your rings, then why are you sharing all this with me?"

She smiled. "It is true that our knowledge is precious, but knowledge is also meant to be shared," she placed a hand on his shoulder. His body was stiff. "I do not fear you. You cannot open the box without knowing a specific incantation, which of course I will not teach you. And as for your family, we are at peace. There will be no war. Arabelle does not take sides against anyone," she declared firmly. "Besides, I will not teach you so much that you can win in a duel against my people," she added. "It would just be enough to overwhelm Balthar. They are not extremely proficient in terms of battle magic – in fact, the only advantage they have over Fayle is that Balthar has far more soldiers than your home does."

"I thank you for your trust in me," the prince bowed to her, and she bade him rise. He did as she asked, his gaze drifting to the glass vase where she kept the roses. His eyes widened in surprise as he realised that the flowers were still there. "And I see that you never threw them away…" he entered her room, walking towards the roses, Miku following him carefully. "They are lovely, are they not?" he murmured, reaching out to touch the silken petals. The roses were still as fresh as they were on the day she received them.

"Indeed," she agreed. Even her own rose gardens did not have roses so beautiful. Len smiled at that, turning to face her. To her surprise, he was holding yet another rose in his hands, and this time it was a pink one. "How are you getting all these beautiful flowers?" she asked, unable to help herself.

"These roses were from my private garden back in Fayle," his eyes twinkled. "They have never been enchanted – they are magical roses, bred from scratch to bloom in the very heart of winter. You could leave them out in a blizzard and they would still survive," he stroked the pink petals pensively. "The royal gardener was looking after my roses in my absence. They were the one thing I missed from home," he held the flower out to her. "Thank you for being my mentor. I appreciate it."

"You are welcome," she placed the pink rose in the vase as well. The three roses were stunning to behold. "Then you must have a place to rest here, in the castle. But before I bring you to your room, you must promise not to steal anything from our premises," she warned. The prince's blue eyes twinkled with mischief, and before she knew it he grabbed her hand, pressing his lips to her skin.

"My Lady," he laughed, "your heart is the only thing in this castle which I would like to steal."