Author's Note: Sorry for the delay, beautiful readers (Why yes, I have been watching Dominic Noble's Lost in Adaptation videos on the old you tube and I highly recommend them!) I don't know how to explain it except to say that I wrote this entire chapter weeks ago and it was just … inert on the page. There was no "magic" to the words. When I read it, I didn't feel anything. I've discovered that when that happens it is best to walk away a length of time and let it percolate in the back of my brain. It took longer than I would have liked, but I am certain that the final product is better for it.

Into the Darkness: Part IV

Sofia ate until her belly ached. Roasted autumn vegetables in buttery sauce, spiced honey cakes, apple cider spiked with cinnamon. No wine, she noted, and was not sorry for its absence. Best to be clear minded and aware, she wanted to remember this night. She and Cedric moved on to easier topics, talking openly in way they never had about the state of the kingdom, the oppressive laws, religion, politics, and their feelings on the subject of each. It was as if the thread of conversation had always been there just waiting to be picked up once again. The enchanted fire crackled on, never banking and they talked hours into the long dark night.

Sofia lay stretched on her side across the floor, her head propped on one hand. Cedric sat with his long legs stretched out, leaning back on one hand as the other flowed along with his words, making pictures in the air. She'd forgotten how expressive he could be, and how much she enjoyed his company, even more so now that they were on equal footing. The last of their magical feast had been cleared away, leaving the hearth open between them.

She picked at a loose thread on her cloak while their conversation lagged into companionable silence.

"I am sorry," she said at last, causing him to look at her with a question in his eyes. "For what I did, the last time we were together on Samhain. It was stupid of me."

He snorted. "Of course it was, but it's to be expected in teenagers."

"Still, I ruined our Samhain tradition. I used to look forward to this day for weeks, knowing I'd spend it with you. I had such a crush on you," she admitted, biting her lip and hoping they were now the kind of friends who could admit such things to one another; that he saw her as enough of an adult to forgive her childish whims.

"I was aware," he allowed dryly.

Her nose crinkled pertly as she laughed. "Ouch. I mean part of me had to know that you couldn't possibly return any romantic feelings."

"I didn't," he said quietly.

Sofia stopped picking at her thread to look up at him. Something about the way he said, I didn't. Past tense. Not I don't. The fire felt suddenly too warm. Her mouth had gone dry. She licked her lips, trying to think something to say— Wondered what she could say.

Cedric drew his legs up, brushing invisible crumbs off his pants. He spoke to his knees rather than look at her. "You didn't ruin anything. I did."

She picked her self up to sit beside him, similarly drawing her knees to her chest to wrap her arms around them. "What do you mean?"

"You were young. Too young. You could be forgiven for thinking you had feeling for me. I knew they would fade as you grew older. To take advantage of that fleeting infatuation would make me the worst sort of villain. And I did not return those feelings, I swear. Not then."

He went silent in another one of those pauses that went on so long she was sure he would say no more. She waited, hardly daring to breathe into the stillness.

At length, he drew in a shaky sigh. "It was only after that I— It did not happen right away, it took months, years even to realize …" He shook his head, dismissive. "It doesn't matter. Anything I felt was wildly inappropriate, so I decided it was best to keep my distance."

"And now?" she asked, her voice going tight and breathless. Just because he had felt something for her at one time, did not mean he still felt the same. "How do you feel towards me now?"

He laughed in a self-conscious way ducking his head. "Wildly inappropriate."

Her mind blanked. The persistent echo of that disastrous kiss had haunted her for six long years, each remembrance filling her with a contradictory mixture of regret and longing. She never imagined that his mind had changed in the years since. She knew she had to speak. To say something lest he retreat, thinking her stunned silence a rejection. "They didn't."

His brows lifted, bemused. "What?"

"You said my feelings would fade as I got older." She chewed her lower lip, trying to speak around the hammering of her heart. "They didn't. I just got better at ignoring them. I thought it hopeless, so I tried not to think of you that way. I tried so very hard, but it proved just as hopeless to abandon my feelings as it was to believe they'd be returned."

He blinked like a man just waking from a long, dark sleep. "What about Liam?"

She tried not to wince, wishing he hadn't asked, though it was the obvious question. "He was as good a choice as any, considering. I thought myself fond of him, but no more."

"But you would have married him?"

She shrugged, hopeless to explain. "As I said, he was as good a choice as any. Mostly it seemed he wanted to marry me. It was his determination to court me that kept us going on for so long."

Cedric lapsed into another one of those long pauses, blinking into the fire, his brow troubled. "You refused him tonight, before you left the castle?"

"Yes," she nodded. "I finally saw the truth of who he was—" She paused. "No, that's not entirely right. I finally saw who I am and knew I could never be with someone like him. Someone so determined to crush everything love under the wheel of his religion."

"And if I told you now that nothing ever could or would happen between us," he said quietly, "what would you do then?"

Her breath caught a little in her throat from a sudden, unforeseen flash of pain. She hadn't realized that she'd still harbored some slim hope until his blank, blunt words threatened to crush it. She glanced at him, but his face and tone gave her nothing of his feelings.

She thought about her answer before she gave it, wanting to be as honest as possible, not just with him, but with herself. "I will not go back to Liam, if that is what you're asking. This isn't a temporary whim. I'm a witch and intend to live openly as one from now on. I want to at least try to talk some reason into my father, but if I can't … I'll have some hard choices to make, but make them I will."

She licked her lips hoping he understood. "I don't need you, Cedric. Need implies that I can't live without you, or any man to make me complete. I finally realize that I must be complete on my own. But I'd choose you if you'd let me." She swallowed; her throat thick with unformed anxieties. "I want to choose you."

His lips twitched one of his rueful smiles. "That right there," he said, a hint of self-deprecation in his voice, "that damnable courage is why I can't seem to be rid of you. It is not something I possess, so I am eternally drawn to yours."

She blinked, nonplussed by his changing moods. "Are you saying you admire me for it?"

The breath he released wavered, hitting a touchingly vulnerable note. "That is one way to put it, though it's simpler to say that it is one of the many things I love about you."

He still would not look at her. She stared at his profile; her mouth slightly agape.

"That is what this feeling must be, right?" he asked as if honestly desperate to know. "I've been told this is how it works. It hurts to see you in pain. I feel it like a tightness in my chest. I'm filled with unreasonable anger every time I see you slighted by that vile priest. I've even had the unkind urge to hex the king on occasion when he so casually dismisses your concerns." He laughed, short, hard, and humorlessly. "And ever since the day I first saw you on that prince's arm, I've wanted to do some manner of violence to his handsome, smug face.

"It's not all a tragedy, though," he worried a new crumb of broken brickwork between his fingers. "Your smile makes me feel light-headed. And when it's directed at me, Great Goddess, I feel like I could fly. Most days I just feel I'm going mad."

She pressed her fingers to her lips to stop their tremble. Through the air she could still catch hints of her Samhain spell: cinnamon, apples, honey and cloves. She wondered if she would taste all those things in his kiss. She wondered too if she should tell him how she felt the same. How the king's laws, though unjust to many, herself included, made her ache most of all for Cedric. How she gritted her teeth each time she heard Humbert contradict him to her father. How each touch of Liam's hand left her with a gnawing emptiness instead of filled with joy as she'd been told it should. How every glance of the Cedric's carefully polite face had made the empty piece inside her throb with a raw, jagged edge.

She grasped at any convenient question to keep her thoughts from drowning in the sweet pool of possibilities his confession unearthed. "What about you, then? Would you have just let me marry Liam, knowing how you felt about me?"

"Possibly. I don't really know, except that I am happier than I should be not to have to find out."

He finally looked at her, an open beseeching in his gaze. She realized at that moment how close together they were, how she'd been drawn towards him like a moth to a mesmerizing flame, at once beautiful and dangerous.

His lips moved, as if against his will, murmuring as they drifted closer. "Your father's priests would damn me for the temptation I feel when I'm around you."

She moved towards him, drawn by a force greater than reason. "They would damn you anyway. They would see us both burn for crimes committed only in their small minds."

Unwilling to profane the sweet, waiting stillness, he spoke no louder than a whisper, "You already make me burn."

They came together, and with the first caress of his lips, Sofia knew that he was wrong: she was the one to burn. His lips were just as warm and soft as she remembered, though made infinitely sweeter this time by their yielding. The unnatural heat of his skin radiated, creating a wicked craving in her belly, like wanting to gobble up melting chocolate chip cookies straight from the oven. She wanted to devour Cedric, to draw him into her kiss and keep him there always. She said she didn't need him, but she wanted him so very badly.

Though only a chaste brush of lips, she still felt the danger in it, like a chasm opened beneath her feet. She pulled back gently, searching his gaze with her own. "I've only just found you again. I couldn't stand to lose you twice."

The backs of his fingers brushed her cheek in a warm caress that left trails of heat in their wake. His damp gloves had been removed hours before. "I won't push you away this time. I'll only go if you tell me to."

Despite his reassurances, she didn't wish to go too far too fast and risk frightening him away. He exercised a similar caution, exhibiting an exquisite patience in the slow, lingering brush of his lips along her own. The teasing torment of it, coupled with the delicious thrill of anticipation birthed a desire in her that Liam had never hoped to inspire with all his tepid hand holding and chaste pecks upon her cheek. Sofia couldn't help shuffling closer across the makeshift rug, and threading her fingers through the silk of his cravat until it came undone. Later she would be unable to recall who broke first: who swept their tongue along the crease of the other's mouth, begging entrance; who opened to that soft entreaty; only that their kisses deepened— lengthened— multiplied— leaving her spiraling into a dark void of desire.

It did not matter who pulled who to the floor, though she was the one to find herself on her back, loose curls spilling across the velvet of his robes. Nor did it matter who took that first sinful step, loosening ribbons, untying tapes, and parting buttons from fabric to seek out hot, bare skin beneath. Sofia curse her stays to the deepest pits of the Demon's hell as Cedric's kisses across the top of her breasts left her desperate for more. Soon damp bits of clothing littered the cabin and she found herself warm and naked beneath Cedric's lean body. He burned everywhere, like a furnace, and she couldn't get enough of running her hands across his skin. His hips could nestle between her hips, but he hesitated from taking that last inevitable step.

"Have you—" he paused to swallow, his mouth dry and breath short from all they'd done thus far. "Have you ever done this before?"

"Yes," she breathed, "a few times, but never with Liam."

It occurred belatedly that her lack of virginity might give him pause. Liam, she realized in a flash of clarity, would have been appalled by her explorations. Always innocent and joyful, but without any deeper attachment, she knew that the priests would call her wicked and wanton; demand that she confess to sin and repent. She saw nothing wrong with sharing physical pleasure with another. Apparently, neither did Cedric, as her confession appeared to give him nothing but relief.

"Good," he breathed, kissing her neck. His hips rocked back and he reached between them to position himself at her entrance. They shared a gasp at the burgeoning union as he pushed slowly forward, savoring the feeling of joining with her. Her body blossomed beneath his, offering easy passage.

"My beautiful little witch," he groaned as if not entirely aware he'd spoken aloud.

They began to move together in an inexorable dance older than time. Being with him was not like any of her other lovers. There were feelings between them, deeper, older, and fraught with infinite meaning. Now that they had come together, this joining felt as inevitable as the tide. She only wished they could have been outside, looking up into the star dappled skies. But the will of the Gods knew no limitations, and she felt a deep welling inside her like the soft burn of magic through her veins.

She pushed at his shoulders and Cedric rolled onto his back, offering no protest as she rose above him. His hands clung to her hips as she rode his length, pleasure-filled sounds falling freely from her lips. All the powers of heaven and earth seemed to surge throughout her, like being kissed by a bolt of raw lightening. This was the Great Rites as they were meant to be: She was the Goddess, and he her consort, the wild God. She moaned unabashedly as he surged up against her, driving deep into her welcoming depths. There was pleasure, yes, but beyond that there was power.

His hand sought out one of hers, raising it to his lips to kiss the tender inside of her palm.

"Sofia," he murmured, part benediction, prayer, and plea.

"Come here," she beckoned on a smoky sigh. With her hair streaming unbound over her bared breasts, she more resembled a fey temptress than a princess. He rose up, clasping her in his arms.

The fire crackled merrily. Rain continued to patter against the warped pane of the single window. Somewhere far above the sun and moon followed each other across the sky in an endless chase. And inside this long forgotten hut, Sofia found a belonging unlike any other in Cedric's arms. For a few fleeting moments she forgot everything except the perfection of his kiss on her lips and untamed beating of his heart against her own.

She woke, stiff and aching all over from sleeping on the floor. The orange glow of rising sunlight slanted across the uneven boards, barely reaching them from the small window. Behind her Cedric groaned, pushing his face between her shoulders, his arm wrapped tightly over her waist. The whole of his naked body curled against her own, chasing away the damp morning chill. The fire had finally banked when he slept. She rolled over, rubbing a curious thumb across the soft new growth of whiskers on his cheek. He could be very handsome with a beard, she decided.

He yawned widely, before giving a slightly sheepish smile. "Good morning."

"Morning." She smiled back.

After the first hurried time, they had made love again, just before dawn, memorizing each other's bodies at an unhurried pace. Her teeth clamped her bottom lip at the memory. It made her boldly arch up to claim a kiss. He responded at once, his hands moving to caress her naked belly and up over her ribs. She wiggled closer beneath him, but a sudden, stout pounding on the slat-wood door made her jump, twisting towards the sound.

"Open up," an authoritative voice called, "by order of the king's guard."

"Just a minute," Sofia called, hastening to collect her dress and scattered under things. Cedric had an easier time, slipping into his breeches and shirt.

When they were presentable— there was nothing to be done about her unbound hair, but she had whispered a spell to smooth the wrinkles from her skirt— she opened the door to find a surprised young guard on the other side.

"Princess Sofia," he stuttered, dipping into a hasty bow. A confused quirk of his eyes took in the ramshackle hut, the little room inside, and, finally, Cedric at her elbow. He cleared his throat. "We, ah, had been sent out to search for you, M'lady."

Refusing to allow a blush to rise in her cheeks, she straightened her back, donning the invisible mantle of royalty. "Naturally," she said, as if she'd known all along. "I expect my family is awaiting my return at the castle."

"Yes, Princess." His eyes darted uncertainly to Cedric again. He lowered his voice. "Are you … all right, M'lady?"

"Of course," she tossed over her shoulder as she descended the single plank step and began picking a trail through the wood. Cedric followed, saying nothing, but acting for all the world as if discovering the princess and the royal sorcerer ensconced in a wood cutter's hut was a common occurrence. The guard trailed sheepishly behind.

She procured them a horse. They rode double, Cedric seated behind her, as he'd never been much for riding. Though her cloak was mostly dry, he still wrapped his robe about her shoulders. The squad of guards that had greeted them at the top of Carver's Hill had all responded in a manner of similar bewilderment and unease at their princess's aplomb. They had clearly expected to come to her rescue, finding her in some distress. Instead she sweetly requested a horse and escort back to the castle.

They did not speak, though Sofia lamented to have dragged Cedric into the trouble she had surely stirred up last night. To her dismay, but not her surprise, Liam was beside the king and Father Humbert when they rode up the crushed stone drive.

The captain dismounted, executing a stiff, efficient bow. "Your highness, we found Princess Sofia, whole and sound."

"Very good, thank you Captain." Roland dismissed the man with a flick of his fingers. "Round up your men and make sure they all get a hot meal in the kitchens before turning in."

The captain bowed again, sparing only an enigmatic glance in Sofia's direction before leading his men away.

Sofia eyed the assembled group left. Her father looked displeased, Liam appeared on the verge of apoplectics, glaring openly at Cedric's hand at her waist, and Father Humbert couldn't quite hide the covetous gleam in his eyes as he examined her rumpled gown and flowing, tangled hair, noting each damning detail. She stayed atop the horse, preferring the small advantage of looking down on them from a height. The mare shifted from foot to foot as if sensing the tension.

"Sofia," her father began, his tone stiffened with repressed anger, "where have you been? I've had men searching all night."

"Why?" She stared down coldly, discovering a surprising depth of anger inside herself to meet her father's. "Have you issued a warrant for my arrest?"

"Do not be ridiculous."

"I broke the law. I was out after curfew. Do you not intend to enforce your new law? Or are you afraid your guards will not do it for you? They did not seem very eager to harass innocent villagers for simply stepping outside their homes after dark last night."

Roland's scowl deepened, but he did not quibble the point. She could tell that he already knew about the unease of his men. He changed the subject smoothly. "Cedric, I sent Bailywick to rouse you to help in the search but you were nowhere to be found."

"He was with me," she said.

Roland ignored her interruption, glaring hard at the sorcerer. Cedric managed to keep a smooth expression on his face, though Sofia could feel the tension in his fingers.

"Two guards reported a fire atop Carver's Hill," the king went on. "One that could not be extinguished by normal means. Am I to assume that was your work?"

"No need to assume, I confess plainly that it was," Cedric shifted minutely behind her, but his voice did not waver. Pride flared warmly in her chest.

The king did not seem to know what to make of this mutiny. "And when exactly did you find the princess, and why did you not bring her back to the castle immediately?"

"Sofia found me on the hill top shortly after night fall. I did not bring her back to the castle because, for one, she is not a child to be ordered about by the likes of me nor any man, and second, she made it plain that she had no wish to return."

As if on cue Roland seemed to realize what Father Humbert had assumed immediately, that the two of them had spent the night, not merely missing from the castle individually, but together. A veil of understanding shadowed his eyes as he took in took in Sofia's rumpled skirts, Cedric's robe about her shoulders, and the familiar attitude of their bodies to each other. Though his lips compressed into a bloodless line, a furtive glance towards his compatriots suggested that he thought better of prying into the matter any further before their current audience. Liam, on the other hand, had no such tact.

"Sofia, do you understand what this means to your reputation?" the prince implored, a look of simple, incredulous bewilderment on his handsome face. "You have been out all night with a man not your husband. You will be disgraced."

Liam took a tentative step forward, Father Humbert crowding at his back as if offering some show of support. The priest's eyes gleamed. Liam's voice wavered delicately when he asked with pitying earnestness, "Sofia, dearest, did he bewitch you?"

Cedric made some sort of unintelligible growl of anger, but Sofia had already slipped effortlessly off the horse's back and on to her feet. In two steps she was before Liam, her hand stinging where it had slapped him soundly across the cheek.

"How dare you!" Her scandalized shout keenly cut through any illusion of chivalrous concern. She looked about, sparing neither king nor priest in her lashing. "How dare all of you. Standing here casting aspersions as if I were some wayward sheep in need of being brought back into your fold. And you," she snapped at Liam, making him jump, "I believe I made myself quite clear last night. We are not engaged. We will never be engaged, nor married, so my reputation is no concern of yours."

Liam blinked, rubbing the red handprint blooming on his cheek. "So, you've thrown me over for this … this … devil!"

"That devil, as you call him, has a name. He is Cedric the Great, royal sorcerer of Enchancia, a kingdom that respects magic and its ways, or used to anyway. I denied your suit, Liam, of my own free will. But as you've seen fit to broach the subject, at least Cedric accepts me as I am. As I truly am."

"As a princess whose crown he can covet," Liam hissed venomously.

"As a witch, powerful in my own right, and with a mind capable of more than blindly following my husband to mass each week to be told how wicked I am for simply existing!" Sofia shouted.

The others had been left to watch the lightening quick exchange, Roland and Humbert's heads wagging back and forth as if watching a racket match. Meanwhile, Cedric had dismounted, crossing his arms across his chest with a slight smirk, watching Sofia tear the arrogant prince to pieces.

Father Humbert decided to intervene, a sanctimonious little smile on his face. "Child, you must be confused. If you claim this warlock has not bewitched you then, I am sorry," he addressed the king briefly before turning hard, greedy eyes back to Sofia, "you are blatantly confessing to being a common harlot."

"You sanctimonious bastard," Cedric growled, taking a menacing step. Magic crackled the air with the metallic scent of ozone. Sofia retreated to his side, her hand on his wrist the only thing keeping him from making good on yesterday's promise to turn the odious man into a toad. Or something worse.

She lifted her chin regally. "That is the problem with your god, Sir. A woman is either bewitched or she is a whore. There is no room to simply be human, nor, your heaven forbid, to find the divine in sharing love with another."

"Where ever there are godly men and women on this earth, there are devils to tempt them. The Demon king of the Underworld is clever; he knows what tempts wayward souls. Never forget, child, lest you be drawn into his snare." His piggish eyes flickered to Cedric and back again. "If you have not already."

She spared the priest not a glance, raising her nose as if he were beneath her consideration. "What about you, Dad? Do you think me wicked?"

Roland could not meet her steady gaze. "Wayward, perhaps, Sofia, but it is not the same thing."

"Is it not," she challenged, "in the eyes of you Lord?"

The king turned his gaze away, but a flash of uncertainty lingered there.

"Sire," Father Humbert stepped in, "God does not distinguish between those who claim to practice the Demon's magic. Whatever her carnal crimes may or may not be, the Princess has shockingly claimed to be a witch."

"I practice white magic," Sofia insisted. "Dad, surely you must know that."

Humbert's smile was baneful at best. "The One God does not distinguish between good magic and bad, all is evil in his sight, as are its practitioners."

"Spoken to your God yourself, have you?" Cedric sneered.

"His scriptures are clear."

"Yes," the sorcerer drawled dryly, "as clear as crystal that's been buried for several hundred years, dug up, chipped away at, buried again, and finally mended to fit the personal whim and will of each person who chooses to wield its words as weapons."

"You do not know the Holy scripture," Humbert raged, his temper rising to a passion, "so do not purport to tell me, a scholar of God, what it says."

"Judge not lest ye be judged," Cedric snapped through gritted teeth.

"Thou shall not suffer a witch to live!" the priest stormed back.

Thunder rumbled in distant clouds, lightening forking the sky. The ground trembled minutely beneath their feet. Sofia took Cedric's hand in hers, knowing that he'd more than likely regrets smiting Humbert with a bolt of lightening if it came to it. Probably. The fine hairs along her arm rose at the current flowing through him.

"I am not one of your flock, Father," Sofia said evenly, sparing her father's pained glance no pity or mercy, "and you cannot threaten me with the words of your narrow-minded sermons,"

Blood colored the priest's face until he appeared in danger of swooning. "Narrow-minded!" he sputtered. He stepped forward, stabbing a finger in the air as if he expected the almighty to come down an imbue him with His wrath. "These good, and godly men would be better off with you and your kind," he spit the word as if it left a bitter taste in his mouth, "and your wicked ways."

"Perhaps that would be best," she answered succinctly, though only Cedric felt how her hand spasmed in his.

"What?" Roland gasped, the color draining from his stricken face.

"Perhaps he's right," she repeated. "Enchancia feels less and less like my home each passing year. I have tried to live in your world, Dad. I have been a dutiful daughter to you for fifteen years. I will never be a convert to your religion, though I do not begrudge you your faith, only your determination to bend everyone else to its will. If you cannot accept me as I am, accept my ways and the ways of your people, then perhaps I should just leave and go some place where I can truly be myself."

"And I with her," Cedric said, making Sofia turn to offer him a tremulous smile. His brave declaration filled her eyes with tears as even the thought of leaving her homeland had not. He gazed resolutely back and she knew that last night was only the beginning of something much bigger for the both of them. Something made to last.

Father Humbert drew himself up, his face flustered and red as he thundered, "Then the noble kingdom of Enchancia would be better off—"

"Enough!" Roland's commanding shout cut the priest off so succinctly that the pious man's teeth closed on an audible snap. "Last I checked, Father, you are one of my advisers and certainly not permitted to dismiss any of my staff, let alone my daughter. You have had your say, now I would suggest practicing some of that wisdom and patience you preach and listen."

The king turned to the prince. "Liam, am I to understand that Sofia has denied your appeal for her hand?"

Liam sputtered. "Well, she said— That is, I believe she is confused by recent events."

"Let us clear the matter up then," Roland fairly growled. "Sofia do you wish to marry Prince Liam."

"Absolutely not," she declared firmly refusing to feel even a stab of pity at the prince's bewildered face.

"I see no confusion," the king said, rolling his shoulders back with the authority of his position. "Sofia has always been free to make her own choice on the matter. And with that I believe your presence if no longer required. Please send my regards to the king and queen of Anglia and may God bless and keep you all."

Effectively dismissed, Liam huffed a few wordless pants. A footman, most likely prepped by Baileywick, brought out the Prince's horse, holding the reins in an expectant manner. Liam snatched them, livid. Mounting his horse, he wheeled around to give Sofia one last furious glance. She felt Cedric squeeze her hand, his grip reassuring instead of possessive. Liam sneered at the both of them before taking off at a gallop as if he could not get away fast enough from this cursed land.

"Father Humbert," Roland turned to the man, a look of polite but firm resolve on his face, "I believe you have All Saint's mass to preside over for those who wish to attend."

The priest blinked, mouth gaping before he remembered to close it. "Aren't you coming, your highness?"

"No today," Roland said. "I have more important matters to attend to."

"More important than the Almighty?"

"Yes, my family. And as it is a family matter, I have no need of your assistance."

"But, Sire, I really feel that I ought to—"

"You are dismissed," the king commanded firmly.

Like Liam, Humbert flashed Sofia an angry look before flouncing away, his austere black robes swinging about his furious strides.

When they stood alone on the front drive, Roland finally turned his tired, sad eyes to her. "Sofia, sweetheart, I fear I have indeed lost my way. I only wanted what was best, and in my misguided attempt I fear I may have lost something more precious than salvation."

"Which is?" she asked cautiously.

"Your respect, and your love."

Sofia stepped forward, hugging her father tightly. Cedric let her go, but she knew he would not leave and she was glad for his quiet, steady presence. "Oh Dad, I could never stop loving you. I was afraid if I was honest with you that you could not love me."

"Never," he promised gruffly as he gripped her so tight, she almost couldn't breathe.

They broke apart and she realized that Cedric was still standing silently, withholding judgement but eyeing Roland suspiciously. "Um, Dad," she gestured to the sorcerer at her back, "I suppose we should explain—"

"Honey," Roland interrupted, holding up a hand to stay her words, "Let's just take it one thing at a time. Let me live in my ignorance just a little while longer until I get used to the idea, but I think I can fill in the blanks myself."

"And, that's okay?" she asked, unwilling to let the subject drop so easily.

"If it wasn't," he asked her seriously, "I can guess that you'd both be back on that horse and bound for some other land before I could finish any denial."

She took Cedric's hand in hers, bringing their joined hands to her heart. If Cedric was willing to stand with her, then she was surely going to let him know that such devotion went both ways. "Yes, we would."

Roland shook his weary head, a helpless chuckle quirking his lips. "Well, your mother will be thrilled. She always hated Liam anyway. Let's get some breakfast. I haven't eaten since yesterday morning and I'm starving."

Sofia glanced over at Cedric. He shrugged his shoulders as if to say, Why not? I'm used to the unexpected with you by now. She kept her fingers laced tightly between his own, and together they followed the king into the castle.

Author's Note: Two things – while I would desperately love to put that Complete tag onto this fic, there is an epilogue. The good news is that since I originally wrote it as part of this chapter, it is already finished. It will be out soon. Second, Metamorphosis, the next update is coming. I'll be honest, I was never crazy about Into the Darkness. It didn't grab me the way some of my fics have, begging to be finished. Metamorphosis has grabbed me and therefore will be finished. Have no fear. Be patient with me as I am now unexpectedly working two jobs. (One is temporary until they find my replacement.) About two weeks ago I was offered a job with my local library, which I jumped at, but it did require a massive shift in my regular routine and I'm still adjusting. Not to mention holiday season and whatnot!

Side note: I named Father Humbert after Humbert Humbert from the novel Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov. Not to say he's a pedophile exactly, just to make him that much more opposed to Cedric's character, who, I hope I framed as definitely NOT interested in Sofia as a child, and only when she became a mature woman.

Side-side note: In my opening author's note I mentioned a you tuber by the name of Dominic Noble. The reference is that he calls his viewers his "beautiful watchers". His channel is largely dedicated to comparing books to their film adaptation. He's witty, charming, British, and in love with his cats. I highly recommend you check out his channel if you have the time.