Chapter 3 –The Heart's Desire

Standing between two large stone planters on the balcony overlooking the Everyday Gardens, Carol watched as the group below broke up by twos and entered the maze. Abe had confirmed that the prince was indeed at Hearts Aflame, having taken up residence at the guest house with his party. Carol was thrilled to see that despite their attempts at deception, Michonne and Rick were still drawn to each other. She was also happily surprised by Abe's apparent interest in Lady Sasha. It was high time he'd fallen in love and settled down to start his own family.

Once she could no longer see any of them, she went inside for her meeting with the queen. When Carol entered the study, she paused when she saw Amara had a visitor. Carol smiled when she realized the queen was meeting with the kingdom's best tracker.

"Did you find anything new?" Queen Amara asked the young man standing before her. She narrowed her eyes but successfully kept from frowning at his appearance. He was grubby and disheveled, his leather coverings muddy and his brown hair hanging in his face. He must have come to her directly upon his arrival, not taking the time to tidy up beforehand.

"No ma'am," he answered. "Lady Rosario's trail ended at The Sanctuary; at the gorge leading up to the walls there."

"Any indication she taken by force into their kingdom?"

"I didn't find any. You want me to go inside, look around?"

Amara deliberated the potential outcome of such action. To provoke the attentions of a potentially hostile monarchy would not be judicious, especially with no evidence of any offense.

"No, not at this time. We did not anticipate that she went north. This is reassuring news although it is hard to believe that Rosario would go there without word to any of us, especially Benito or Rosita, but if she has emigrated of her own free will, it is not enough to warrant trespassing. I will talk to them to about this new information."

He nodded and continued to stare at the floor.

"Thank you Daryl. You may leave."

He turned around and came face to face with Carol. Carol beamed at her ward and reached out to touch his shoulder. Soon after her arrival at Atlantica, he'd come to them as an orphan, a boy found living in the woods outside the castle walls. No one had known how long he'd been out there and a search throughout the kingdom yielded no results on any residents missing a child. He didn't talk about the days before he came to them and he refused to take up permanent residence in the main keep, although he had a small chamber of his own. Daryl preferred to remain in the out of doors. She remembered the days she would give the girls their lessons in the gardens or fields and he would join them, sitting several yards away so he could still listen while pretending to ignore them. When the weather permitted, she had given lessons as often as she could in the open air.

"Daryl," she greeted.

He gave her a tight smile and a nod, his eyes sad. She wondered what new horrors he might have seen on his journey and what old horrors he would never be free of.

"My lady." He never addressed her by name, a habit she found peculiar at the start but to hear him call her anything else now would be unsettling.

"Before you go, please bathe and see Cook for something to eat."

He nodded again, but she knew he would likely only do one of her suggestions and if so, it would not be the former. After he departed, Carol gave a curtsy to Amara, and then sat in the chair next to hers.

"If only we could get Daryl to stay in the keep between his missions, get adequate rest, be part of the life here. I have requested, threatened, cajoled and bribed but to no avail."

"As have I."

"I have been equally unsuccessful in getting him to bathe regularly."

"Yes, that too."

"I worry that he does not assimilate. How many years since he came to us?"

"Half score at least. He will be okay; we will keep working on him."

"How does it go with Michonne and the prince?"

"Excellent. They are spending time together now, going through the maze."

"It is what I had hoped. I've decided that I will meet with them this evening. I look forward to meeting Eloise's youngest son. She wrote of him so fondly, I can tell he is her favorite although she would never admit so. It's been a great many years since I've seen her. Long before either of us were married. Or monarchs. Or mothers." Amara chuckled.

Carol's eyes widened and she thought on her words before speaking. "Perchance on the morrow? We did agree to give them some time without any interference. The prince and his party arrived just this day."

Amara considered. "I am hoping we can accelerate their courtship. To secure her safety and to guarantee her as the next successor."

"But she is already your heir apparent."

"Yes, but unmarried, she is still vulnerable. There may be those who seek to undermine our kingdom by taking her hand through subterfuge. We need the full protection that will come with matrimonial alliance to Alexandria."

"It sounds as if we are preparing for conflict."

"There is no harm in preparation. It is how Atlantica has remained prosperous and undefeated for so many years. There is something amiss within our borders and combined with the unpredictability of The Sanctuary, I am not willing to take any chances."

"Surely a standard treaty would have been sufficient." Carol asked.

"No, not for this. We need to have the Kingdom of Alexandria cemented as our ally as quickly as possible."

Carol thought of their connection to The Kingdom. "What about King Ezekiel?"

"I should have her marry him?" Amara asked, intentionally misunderstanding Carol's statement.

Carol blushed and looked at her lap. "That is not what I meant."

"I know. Forgive my teasing. He has shown interest in you, Carol. Why else would he visit so often? I do not mind but would prefer he left Shiva behind some of the time, especially when she is shedding. And the balls of hair she retches." Amara shuddered. "Our dear Ezekiel is eccentric but sincere. He is a good man. What are your misgivings?"

Carol shook her head, unable to put to words why she felt undeserving of love, even after all she had lost. How much was at risk to place herself at the mercy of a man once again; of any person who could mistreat her, raise their hand to her or try to control her.

"He is not him." Amara said softly, reading her accurately.

"I know. But sometimes the fear, the instinct to survive it is not forgiving; it does not release me. Even now, I sometimes wake at night, in a sweat, afraid he is coming for me when he has been dead all these years."

Amara grasped Carol's hand. She had never been victim to such abuse and when Lady Carol had arrived from Alexandria with correspondence penned personally from Eloise, Amara had not hesitated to find a place for her. Over time, Carol had thrived. "You will always have a home and protection here. You do not have to do anything not of your heart's desire," Amara assured her.

Before Carol could respond, there was a double knock at the door and the steward's assistant entered.

"We have not been able to locate him, Your Majesty."

"That won't do," Amara replied. The servant looked uncomfortable under her stare. "I asked you to get my husband, Horvath. Why are you back here without him or knowledge of his whereabouts?" Concern made her tone sharp and she felt the need to explain to Carol.

"Andreas has not arrived for our afternoon tea."

Carol nodded. The king never missed tea with his wife.

Amara stood and smoothed the skirts of her gown. "I will find him myself. Horvath, let's go." She turned to her ladies and advised them she would be back shortly, indicating they were not to accompany her.

Horvath followed behind his queen, gnawing on his lip in worry that his position might be in jeopardy. His employment at Hearts Aflame had recently commenced after he was dismissed from his last employ when they decided that his age had become a hindrance to him successfully completing his duties. It had been a blow to his dignity as he was still fit and of sound mind. It was a despicable but common practice, releasing the aged before they became too infirm to continue their position and the castle would be responsible for their welfare in their final years. Amara had interviewed him and after ten minutes, hired him straightaway; declaring he would be a welcome and useful addition to their administration staff.

"My queen, we've checked the throne room, solarium, library, chapel and his study but with no success. We are confident that he has not left the castle," Horvath informed her.

"The stables?"

"Yes ma'am. And the fields."

"Then he is here in the keep. What about the council room?"

"There is no council assembly today, ma'am. The room has been closed all day."

"It has not been checked?"

"No ma'am."

"Then off we go. And Horvath?"

"Yes ma'am?"

"You do not have to wear a hat inside the keep. We do not require it here."

"Yes ma'am."

They arrived at the double doors to the council room and Amara rested her hand on the cool oak, apprehensive about what she would find on the other side. She turned to Horvath. "Stay with me, do not leave until I dismiss you," she said.

Amara eased open one of the doors and peered into the dimly lit room. The great council met once every sennight and the past days of dormancy were evident. The room appeared empty at first and she waited until her eyes adjusted to the low light. She spotted her husband at the other end of the room, sitting at the large oval table; his head slumped to his chest. She kept her face free of alarm when she spotted who was with him. The problematic Sir Philip sat next to her husband, whispering in Andreas' ear. She detested the man. She had immediately been suspicious of him when he had arrived, injured and seeking refuge until he could move on. He'd never allowed the physician to see to his injuries; telling them all he had enough knowledge to heal himself, just needed rest and shelter. He'd been in good health for weeks, yet still wore a scrap of cloth around one eye, explaining the eye had been wounded beyond healing. Amara had sent word to his home kingdom after reading his dubious letter of recommendation, but she had not heard back. Andreas had told her many times that she was being paranoid, especially since she usually welcomed those ill-treated and in need.

The scene before her now was eerie and reinforced her belief that something was disturbing about Philip.

"My king, the council does not assemble until the morrow." She spoke in a normal and measured tone. Horvath was so close he almost bumped against her, but she welcomed his presence at her side.

"Ah, the lovely Queen Amara," Philip said, easing away from Andreas and sitting upright.

"Open the curtains, Horvath," Amara directed.

Bright sunlight lit up the room as the drapes were drawn back and secured. Amara continued to stare at her husband while she waited. The brown of his skin was like teak wood and usually shone with vitality and health. Now it appeared ashen and dull and the dark circles under his eyes had not been there that morning.

With a start, as if he had forgotten, Philip stood and bowed to her. She knew he disliked showing her deference, under some misguided delusion that he was her equal. Every time, she refused to acknowledge him until he had done so. She finally turned her eyes to him.

"Sir Philip. Leave us," she said, watching as Philip gathered his documents and left. Amara took his vacated seat next to Andreas, willing her husband to acknowledge her presence. She held his hand and pressed a kiss to his cheek. After a long moment, Andreas sighed and raised his head. He noticed her with a start, as if she'd just appeared and had not already been sitting with him. His eyes worked to focus on her face.

"My dear heart," he said with difficulty, his words slurred, his lids heavy.

Amara stroked his hand and arm. "I love you," she said and waited. Before long the haze in eyes cleared and he truly saw her.

"Amara," he whispered. His eyes darted around the room. "Something is not right."

"I know. I am going to help you."

"We are in peril."

"From what Andreas?"

He didn't answer, glancing again around the room. "Where is Michonne?"

"Spending time with Prince Richard of Alexandria. She is to marry him, do you remember?"

Andreas nodded. "I do. She is well?"

"Yes, yes, of course. Headstrong as usual."

A sennight ago, he would have grinned proudly at Amara's exasperation that their daughter took so much after her mother in behavior and temperament. Instead, he looked up her in panic, reaching out to cup her cheek.

"Please help me, my love" he said. The haze in his eyes returned and he was lost to her once again, his head dipping until his chin rested on his chest and his breathing slowed. He appeared to be asleep, but his eyes remained open. Amara felt numb, her heart breaking.

She looked over to Horvath. "Call the guard to escort the king to our chambers. Afterwards, bring the physician to me."

He nodded and headed toward the doors, pausing when she called out to him again.

"Horvath. You have a new undertaking. You will accompany King Andreas at all times. Do not, for any reason, leave him alone if I am not there."

Amara didn't know how she knew it, but she did. She was running out of time.

Everyday Gardens

Among the twelve foot high hedges of the maze, Rick and Michonne walked their selected path, the silence strained as they moved along the bends and turns. Each wrestled over what to say, wanting to engage the other but cautious as to not say too much. As they walked, Rick selected leaves, picking the longest loose at their stems. Michonne stole furtive glances at her companion, his handsomeness was near crushing. She admired his physique, the way he walked, his overall confidence and ease. Like her being a princess didn't intimidate him. She realized ruefully that he didn't know she was a princess.

Rick noticed her frown. "Of what are you thinking?" he asked

"I was surprised to see you again," she blurted, the thought at the forefront of her mind. Being this close to him was making her harebrained.

"I was delighted." Rick met her eyes. He didn't look away.

"Yes, I was that too," she admitted, staring back at him. The intensity of his blue gaze produced heat that rose through her chest and warmed her heart.

They came upon one of the stone benches placed throughout the maze. Rick waited for her to sit and joined her after she had settled herself. He sat so close, Michonne wondered if she should move over to give him more room, but she suspected he would just follow her all the way across the bench. He motioned for her to cup her hands together and then gave her the leaves he'd gathered. One by one, he selected them, folding them into triangles and weaving them together. He seemed to prefer the leaves at the bottom of the tiny collection she held, his fingers rubbing her palms every time he chose one. Michonne's breath hitched as she watched his nimble fingers work.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"You'll see."

With his head bent she stared at the thick waves of his hair. Her fingers ached to discover if his curls were as soft as they looked. She remembered him playing with her own hair in the stables and thought it would only be fair. She was working up the nerve to do just that when he twisted in the last leaf and formed a small circle. He didn't look at her as he trailed his hand from her elbow to her wrist, and encircled it with his fingers. They both stared at the beautiful contrast of the darkness of her skin with the fairness of his. The sensation from their contact pulsed through her. She noted a slight reddening of his neck and ears and felt relieved that she wasn't the only one affected. He slipped the bracelet he'd made over her hand and let her go.

"Thank you," she said, admiring her gift. She twirled the small band on her wrist. "Is this recompense for my bead?" she teased.

"What bead?" Rick asked, pleased that she had realized.

Her laughter washed over him and he smiled at her happiness.

"You know what bead."

"Finders keepers. I have something of yours and you now have something of mine."

"This is lovely." She held up her arm again.

Rick grinned; delighted she would enjoy such a simple item. He thought of the real jewels he could gift her. Of all the things he could give her: horses, musical instruments, books, manor houses, servants, the life of a princess. Anything her heart desired.

"If we are to keep exchanging gifts," Michonne said, "I wonder what else of mine I can give you."

Rick's neck and ears reddened further at the vivid thoughts of what exactly she could give him; that he would beg for. That he wanted her to give to no other, ever. Her kisses, her touches, herself.

"What? What are you thinking?"

He shook his head and blew out a hard breath. He was losing himself, in over his head. His attraction to her was intense and unrivaled. As unique and extraordinary as she was.

"Thank you again," she said. "It's been years since I indulged in such childhood delights. Our governess taught us to make these in the schoolroom. How did you learn to make these?"

"One of my governesses when I was younger. She showed us."

"As a messenger, you had a governess?

"As a child of the castle, I was included in the royal studies."

Michonne considered this. It wasn't an unusual practice in many castles. At Hearts Aflame, servant children were sometimes included in her studies. She watched small birds flitting overhead, calling to each other from hedge to hedge. The blue sky stretched for miles around and matched the brilliance of her companion's eyes.

"We do that here, twice monthly. Otherwise the children of the servants have their own instructor until they are of age to apprentice. Do you enjoy being a messenger?"

"I have so far."

"You did not want to become a knight?"

Rick answered with his true feeling on the matter. "I think it's noble to be a knight and I respect them; they keep their kingdoms safe and protected. If treated well and with respect, they will serve loyally and selflessly give the ultimate sacrifice. But given my family connection to the castle, a different path is expected of me."

"What path is that?"

"Not to join the knighthood."

When she looked back to him, he was noticeably closer.

"May I kiss you?" He asked.

"You are bold. I do not even know your name."

He was very close, his eyes focused on her lips. She licked her bottom lip and inhaled deeply when his eyes widened. The knowledge that she affected him as much as he affected her comforted her; she wasn't alone in this whirlwind of emotions.

Distracted, he answered without thought. "It's Rick."

"Like the prince?" For a moment, one weighty instant, Michonne's heart expanded with hope.

Rick admonished himself for his gaffe, but realized he wanted to hear his name on her lips. That if she thought of him when he was not around, she was not assigning another's name to his face.

"Like Richard, my father's youngest brother," he answered honestly. "It's a common enough name in Alexandria."

"Oh."

"And your name?"

Michonne was prepared to answer, pondering this the very moment they had stepped into the maze. She didn't want him calling her Maggie, but she couldn't give him her real name. He would know immediately who she was.

"It's Em."

"For Emma? Imogen?"

"Emme." It had been her childhood nickname, one she had not been called in years.

"Emme," he repeated. "I like it. It's beautiful. So are you."

If it was possible, he scooted even closer, until his thigh was pressing against hers. "May I call you Emme?"

"Yes." Her voice was low. "And I can call you Rick?"

He nodded. "Emme. . .about that kiss."

Michonne laughed. "You're a rascal. Let's continue on shall we?" She stood and reached out for his hand. He obliged her, his hand warm and secure in hers. He laced their fingers and tingles raced to her shoulder. They stood staring at each other.

"It's not fair, don't you think?" Rick said, trying not to look at the bodice of her dress.

"What's that?" she asked, smirking.

Rick caught her tone and realized he had failed and was staring at her mounds. He blushed.

"I like you too," she whispered with a smile.

"It can't be helped. Do you know how exquisite you are?" he whispered back.

"Thank you." As they resumed walking, she remembered his statement. "What's not fair?"

"That you and your countrymen already know the way. Could lead to an unfair advantage."

"And there's at least one of us paired with one of you. It only matters if we want to win. Do you want to win?"

"Who's to say I'm not winning now?"

His words put a smile on her face and she broke his gaze as she looked ahead. She was elated but conflicted; as if she was winning and losing at the most significant test of her life. It was a waste of energy to do so, but she wished Rick was the prince, that he was the one to whom she was betrothed. For a time, she could pretend. Maggie had agreed to two days, for the remainder of today and all of the morrow, she could live in the fantasy that she was getting to know her the man that would have her hand and her heart.

"Tell me about you," she requested.

"I have a brother."

"Is he older? Younger?"

"He is older. And you?"

"I am an only child."

"Were you lonely?" Rick tried to imagine her as a child. He wondered if even then she was poised and composed, not a hair out of place or if she ran around underfoot, her hair loose, causing mischief, enjoying the outdoors at every moment like he and his brother. He remembered first seeing her this morning and suspected it was the latter.

"No, I have a cousin and two close friends that are like sisters."

"The princess being one?"

Michonne nodded. There was an awkward pause as each wondered what to say next.

"Tell me about your princess." Rick felt obligated to ask.

Michonne considered her words. "She is a good person. She'll be a great leader for this kingdom one day."

"I heard that she was obstinate, willful."

Michonne shrugged, not confirming or denying the charge. She couldn't tell if he appreciated or loathed those traits. "Aren't we all? Is this what you want to do, talk about the princess?" Her exasperation with being jealous of herself came through in her tone. She thought herself ridiculous but couldn't help it.

He shook his head. "I'd like to know more about you."

"I am one and twenty and much like the princess, I am determined. I love my family and my kingdom fiercely. I am very close to both my parents. I believe family is everything; whether by blood or just love. I would do anything for the people here, to keep them safe and help them succeed."

Rick watched her closely, at the motions her hands made as she talked. He wondered if she knew how expressive she was when she spoke of what moved her. He felt connected to her. "I too am much the same," he said. "Except I have twenty-six years."

"Oh, you are an old man," she teased. "How is it you are not married yet?"

"Mayhap I had to meet you."

Michonne sobered, looking down at her feet. "That would never be possible."

"How do you know," Rick asked.

"My position here. It will not allow me to consider the match of someone not of royal blood."

"By whose authority?'

"My parents."

"Do you always do what your parents say?"

Michonne considered for a moment. For all her stubbornness and independence, ultimately she was obedient. Except for now. Spending time with this man, she being defiant.

Michonne nodded. "For all my attempts at rebelliousness, I will always do what is best for Alexandria."

"Maybe I could win your heart and that would be enough to win your hand."

Michonne smiled. She was sure Rick had already won her heart, but knew from experience, it would not be enough for her hand.

"One out of two is all there can be. And even with that, I would be selfish and want yours too."

"Then we should follow our hearts," Rick concluded. In that moment he knew he would never marry Atlantica's princess, nor would he marry Lady Jessica. His heart belonged, for now and always, to the woman with him now. He would not recite vows with another with his heart linked with hers.

Throne Room

"Do you have an update for me?" Amara inquired of the physician and his apprentice. She sat on her throne as they met, swallowing her impatience. "You've examined him multiple times now and I've yet to receive a treatment plan."

Sir Harlan was at a loss, confounded as the symptoms the queen described had not been evident when he observed King Andreas. "Your Majesty, we are still compiling the findings and researching the physician's tome of maladies. Additional consultations are needed; however, His Majesty is not willing to continue with our examinations.

"Based on what you have gathered thus far, what is wrong with him?"

Harlan shuffled through his papers. "It seems to be an underlying infection of a complex nature. Or conceivably the early stages of mind forgetfulness. I'll need more time to review all the data we have collected."

"That is what you were already tasked with. Something is wrong. He has lost weight and often of late, he is lethargic and confused, distracted. The essence of whom he has altered; he is slowly becoming less the Andreas I know."

"He was alert and aware during our examinations. I could not find any change."

"I have been married to this man for twenty-six years and we are rarely apart. I know of which I speak."

"I beg your pardon, Your Majesty." Harlan bowed low.

Amara gritted her teeth, frustrated. She wondered what more she could do to help Andreas.

The physician's assistant opened her mouth to speak but then closed it when Harlan glared at her.

"Lady Denise, do you have something to add?" Amara asked her.

"There is another possibility." Her voice was hesitant and she fidgeted under the queen's intense stare. She worried of the consequences her words could bring.

"Speak up."

Denise took a deep breath. "There might be another possibility. His Majesty could be under a spell; entranced." She sighed heavily with the relief of finally sharing what had been her growing concern.

Amara's heart pounded in her chest. "That is not possible. Magic is forbidden among the kingdoms. What would cause you to say such a thing?"

"I have no other explanation for his ailment, my queen. The changes in his mood and his personality, which occur randomly and with no biological basis. At least, none that Sir Jeffrey and I have been able to find. He is fighting a battle within himself; trying to retain ownership of his soul."

"If that is the case, how do we free him?" Amara asked.

"What do we have here?" King Andreas' deep baritone rang out and the trio looked over as he entered the room. Harlan bowed and Denise curtsied. Amara was relieved to see her husband was his usual self and in good mood as he walked toward her, holding her gaze. She smiled as if they were the only two in the room; the love she held for this man still amazed her. He was tall and self-assured, his color returned and his teeth gleaming as he gave her his best smile. Several years ago, he had begun losing his hair and at the time had his valet shave him bald and continued to do so. She had thought she would miss the hair but she adored his smooth head and full beard. She looked past him and spied Horvath near the entrance.

"I am meeting with the physicians about your well-being," Amara answered. "If you recall, you and I discussed needing to find out more about your recent health concerns."

"I am fine. Nothing more is needed," Andreas insisted, stopping at the steps to the throne platform and turning to the medics. "My wife worries overmuch. I am absolutely fine and refuse to sit for any more of your assessments. You are both dismissed."

Harlan and Denise exited the room. Andreas ascended the platform steps to where the thrones were positioned sat down at Amara's feet. He rested his head on her thigh. The remaining servants in the room lowered their eyes respectfully.

"How was your slumber?" Amara asked him, placing a hand on his jaw.

"Revitalizing. I am feeling well rested." He reached under the hem of her gown to close his hand around her ankle. "You will be consumed with all your worry. All is okay," he told her.

"Andreas, do you remember this afternoon?"

"Do you long to make me feel contrite about my blunder this afternoon? Indeed, I am remorseful about missing our time together."

"No, my love. All is forgiven. Do you remember why you missed it? When you were in the council room with Sir Philip?"

"There was no need to be there today. I do not know why I would meet there alone with Sir Philip."

"I do not know either. I was hoping you could answer that for me. It was very unusual. I wonder about his motives here."

"He is not malicious as you make him out to be. In truth, he is becoming a close confidant. Philip has submitted to be a permanent resident of Atlantica. He would like to join the great council, but he cannot be voted in if he is not a resident. He believes in our kingdom and desires to see it grow and prosper. For our army to be strong and undefeated."

"He has told you these things?" Amara asked.

"Yes. I would like for you to get to know him as I have."

"There are many things I would like to know about him. I will have an audience with him; we should conduct his admittance interview ourselves, perchance with one or two others present."

Andreas grunted in agreement. His fingers danced around her calf. "I still feel regretful about our tea."

"It was not your fault."

"Be that as it may, I yearn to make it up to you." He sat up and twined their fingers. "Let's take dinner in our chamber this night."

Amara smiled in anticipation of what his suggestion meant. "What about our guests?"

"I think they can eat without their monarchs for one eve."

Everyday Gardens

Rick and Michonne strolled through the maze, conversing non-stop, the topics ranging childhood memories to current interests, each able to be truthful without revealing their identity. Michonne realized they would soon come upon the center of the maze. There was a chance they would not be the first there and her time with Rick would come to an end. When they arrived at the last fork, Michonne indicated they should go left and she lagged several steps behind Rick. He stopped abruptly when he came to a wall of shrubbery, a dead-end.

Rick spun around to face her, the look on his face relaying his confusion.

"Have you forgotten the way?"

She walked until she was right in front of him, her front almost pressed against him. Rick's hands automatically found her waist. He couldn't stop the slight tremors at what he anticipated.

"About that kiss—"

Before she could finish her sentence, Rick pulled her closer and bent his head to capture her lips. She raised her hands to his neck as his grip on her hips tightened. In the mild afternoon air, amid bright sunshine and random calls of birds overhead, among the familiar aroma of earth and plants, Michonne experienced her first real kiss. The moment imprinted into her memory; the heat of his full lips on hers, the unique and pleasant smell of him, the softness of his beard, the curls of his hair in her hands. She closed her eyes and everything was magnified. This, she thought, this.

Rick knew he would never get enough of her. He relished her warm body against his; firm and supple at once, her taste that kept him wanting more; her scent mixed with the flowers and sunshine and he wanted more. He wanted all of her. Rick gave her several more pecks before sucking on her bottom lip. She gasped and he gave her his tongue. The kiss went deeper and Michonne shivered. Emboldened, she met his tongue with hers and with his moan, knew that he liked it. She tangled her tongue with his again, eliciting another moan from him. She kept at it until she was out of air. Rick pulled her even closer. The kiss continued, unhurried and thorough, each learning what they and their partner liked most.

"Meet me here at the midnight hour," Rick rasped. His words were muffled because he didn't take his lips from hers but she understood his words. She pulled away, her eyes dazed and her chest heaving.

"Here?" She asked, confused.

"Yes, here." He bent his head back toward hers, but her hand on his chest stopped him.

"I can't come out here at that time."

"Find a way," he repeated, insistent. His long lashes brushed his cheeks as he closed his eyes again and leaned in for another kiss.

"Is that all what you want? A good-time girl?"

Lost in the cloud of desire, Rick knew the mood had changed and he struggled to determine where he had blundered.

"No, no, not for that. I want to spend more time with you. Just you and me. I enjoy your company, talking to you. We won't do anything you don't want. This time, here with you, has been the most enjoyable I've had in ages."

Michonne felt the same. "I think we should get to the center," she suggested.

They reached the clearing in the middle of the maze. Like all the gardens in Atlantica, it was well manicured and maintained. Topiaries, plants and trees were positioned around a three-tiered fountain, the flowing water providing a musical background to the otherwise quiet space. They were the only occupants.

"Looks like we win," Michonne announced. "We get to decide the activity for tomorrow. Any ideas?"

"We can go for a ride," he suggested, remembering the horse she groomed in the stables.

"Oh, that sounds splendid. We can also enjoy a luncheon in the open air."

Rick nodded, looking forward to spending more time with her and wondering how he would be able to get her alone on a ride and picnic with others in attendance. He walked toward one of the trees bearing fruit, selecting one.

"You mentioned the peaches here." He handed it to her.

"Wait until you try one. They are incredibly delicious."

"We don't have a lot of peaches in Alexandria. One of our main fruit crop is apples. And grapes."

"I like apples."

"It's my favorite fruit. I can get. . the prince to send some over."

"He would do that?"

"Yes."

"Maybe it will be my favorite fruit too," she said.

Michonne sat on the concrete edge of the fountain and rinsed the peach in the swirling water. It was large and golden; its softness indicating it was at prime ripeness. When Rick sat next to her, she gave him the peach but he brought it to her mouth for her to take a bite.

Meeting his eyes, she held his hand as she took a full bite. As she had thought, it was incredibly juicy and a droplet traveled down to her chin. Rick reached out a finger to catch it and automatically licked his finger.

"You're right. It's incredibly delicious," he rasped out.

Michonne blushed, feeling overheated and as if she was falling.

They shared the remainder of the peach, using the fountain water to cleanse their sticky fingers when they were finished. Rick tossed the pit into the bushes and moved closer to Michonne. Heat radiated from where his leg was pressed against hers and she marveled that the man hardly ever gave her any space.

"Stop crowding me."

He didn't respond but he didn't move away either and she had her answer. Michonne laughed for no reason other than the joy of falling in love; being smitten with Rick and reveling in his company. She reached out to touch his beard, mesmerized by the color and softness, tracing her thumb along his jaw. Rick grabbed her hand and nuzzled at her neck. He dared to press his lips on her soft skin. When she didn't push him away, but instead angled her head so he could get closer, he obliged, sprinkling more kisses across her skin and breathing in her scent. He was intoxicated on her; infatuated and fast falling deeper in love. Happily and contentedly caught in a web she didn't know she had cast.

Michonne's eyes closed as his kisses produced tingles that raced down her arm and up to her ear. She was buzzing. His beard tickled and soothed as he kissed up her neck and along her jaw. He felt too good. A whimper escaped her lips when she felt his tongue trace the kisses he'd left and she wondered at the pull and power he had over her. She struggled for air and freed her hand to grip him on his shoulder.

"Wait, wait," she panted, the sensations overwhelming. She needed him to slow down.

Rick, too, was caught up in their passion, more powerful and devastating than he had ever experienced. His rested his head on her shoulder, breathing heavily.

"Well, this is interesting," Sasha said, her hard voice crashing over them. Rick raised his head and looked at Sasha. She wore a smile but he could tell by the glint in her eyes that she was not pleased. The rest of the group had arrived and stood stunned at the scene before them. Abe frowned. Maggie placed a hand over her mouth. Glen stared at the ground. Andrea's mouth hung open. Rosita watched them with wide eyes. There was a long moment of awkward silence as Rick and Michonne separated and got to their feet, standing several feet away from each other.

"I think everyone's had enough fun for the day. I'll escort the princess and her ladies back to the keep." Abe's deep voice broke the silence.

The group departed the clearing in silence, Abe leading the way. The path out of the maze was direct and upon exiting, they separated into two groups, one heading to the keep and the other to the guest house.

Rick wondered at the man who was always where Emme was, interrupting his time with her. "Why is he always here?" Rick grumbled as he, Sasha and Glenn walked.

Sasha knew he was referring to Sir Abraham. "He's the head of the princess guard."

Rick scowled. "You'd think he was guarding Emme," he muttered.

"Who?" Sasha asked.

"Her name is Emme," Rick responded and stalked ahead, not waiting for them.

When they arrived at Mystic Wonder, Sasha followed Rick into the parlor. "What are you doing?" she asked him as soon as they entered.

"Not now, cousin." Rick pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Do you know who she is?"

"I know enough."

"Does she know who you are?" Sasha persisted.

"She knows my name is Rick."

"What game are you playing?"

"It's not a game, I've fallen in love."

"You were just enamored with Jessie," Sasha scoffed. She should be elated that Michonne and Rick were clearly infatuated with each other but she worried that if they didn't confess, they would both be heart sore and bitter at the deception of the other.

"This . . . this is different," Rick said softly.

They stared at each other.

"With Jessie, have you ever . . . ?" Sasha's voice trailed off. She looked down, embarrassed that she had asked, but curious how he knew his feelings were reliable.

Rick shook his head. He and his cousin were close and talked of all manners of topics, and the thought of doing with Jessie what he only now wanted to do with Emme made him realize the depth of his attachment to Emme. And what he was willing to risk to be with her. "No. There was no need to rush. I had been waiting for our wedding night. If my parents had ever approved our engagement for us to wed." He didn't admit that Jessie had tried.

"Well, I'm sure part of you always knew that your parents were never going to consent to a match between you and Jessie. You better come clean Rick; you don't seem to be able to keep your head straight around this . . . Emme. This could end badly all around."

Main Keep

After separating from their Alexandria visitors, the walk to the main keep was strained with all the words not said. Michonne attempted small chatter but when no one engaged, she too fell silent. She supposed Abe wanted to lecture her but refrained as her ladies were present. Abe escorted them to the front of the keep and told Michonne he had an appointment to attend. He warned her not to leave the keep before he returned. He waited until they were all inside before he headed to meet Carol to apprise her of the latest.

Sir Benito met them as soon as they entered the keep, searching for his daughter.

"Queen Amara wishes an audience with the two of us," he informed Rosita. Rosita looked at Michonne and shrugged, unsure of what the queen would want with her and her father.

"Maybe it's about your mom," Michonne said quietly as Rosita passed, reaching out to squeeze her hand.

Rosita smiled and nodded, clasping back at Michonne's hand. She remained quiet as she and her father made their way to the throne room. He didn't initiate conversation and nor did she expect him to. Ever since her mother's disappearance he had changed, becoming more stern and hard-hearted as he fell further and further in sorrow. Rosita had tried unsuccessfully to bridge the divide between them but it only grew wider with their shared grief over her mother's disappearance.

Ignoring Maggie's glare, Michonne told her and Andrea she wanted time alone and she walked down to the lower solar. She wanted to ponder on her time with Rick in the maze and the conundrum she was in. She felt no desire to become familiar with or marry the prince. Her heart now belonged to another; to the messenger from Alexandria. This was not going to end well. She would have to defy her parents or end up heartbroken and neither option was encouraging. Even if the messenger held a favored position at Rising Moon; even if he was knighted, that would not change her parents' decision on who would be her husband. Lost in her thoughts, she was distracted as she walked the corridor and didn't realize she was being followed until he was upon her.

"My dear princess Michonne," Sir Philip greeted her.

Michonne froze and peered down both ends of the passageway, her heart sinking when she realized they were completely alone. The lower solar was indeed just that, on a lower level, directly beneath the main solarium; used only by the monarchy and a few select others. It wasn't frequented by those who did not have express permission to do so. Michonne reasoned that Philip must use the room with approval from her father. Without Abe or her sword, she was vulnerable. She didn't show her alarm at this realization, instead recalling the steps of various defense maneuvers that Abe had taught her.

"Sir Philip," she responded.

Philip bowed but somehow managed to maintain an air of mockery in the act. Michonne thought again of how much she did not like this man. When he straightened, he took a step closer and she backed up until she was against the wall. He followed until there were mere inches between them.

"It is always so nice to see you; I savor any opportunity to know you better but I rarely get the occasion."

"It is busy work being a princess," she offered. Her avoidance of him was intentional. "Perchance we can have tea one afternoon, with my parents."

"Perchance," he murmured. His uncovered eye traveled down to her lips and lower, pausing at her bosom before meeting her eyes again. Her skin crawled.

He leaned closer. "I find you intriguing," he whispered near her ear, his breath fusty and unwelcome on her neck, where just moments ago, the attentions of another man in such a way had left her craving more. Michonne kept her head to the side and prepared to hike up her knee if he dared to actually touch her.

"If you could," she ground out, motioning with her hands for him to give her space.

Philip obliged and stepped back.

"I have petitioned your father to court you," he told her.

"I am already betrothed to be married."

"But there have yet to be vows exchanged. Where is your new beau? I would like to meet him; the younger prince and second son from Alexandria. I would have thought a princess who is sole heir to such a jewel of a kingdom as Atlantica would be matched with a firstborn."

"A first born prince is heir to his kingdom and his wife would rule by his side, there. My betrothed will rule here in Atlantica, with me."

"We will see. Mayhap I will court the willing Lady Andrea instead."

"If she will have you."

"She will have me," he said smugly. They both knew his words were true.

He leaned in again and Michonne tensed, prepared for more suggestive and unwelcome comments but Philip spoke too rapidly for her to understand what he was saying, the words disappearing as soon as she heard them. Philip straightened and watched her expectantly.

Michonne frowned and felt there was something he wanted her to do. Or not do. She glanced to her right, where the doors to the lower solar remained closed. She tried to remember if the doors had been open before but realized she didn't care. She didn't want to visit the room after all. In fact, she never wanted to go inside the room again. She looked back to Philip, puzzled at the bizarre grin on his face; a smile that really wasn't one at all. She dismissed her thoughts and started to walk to the solar but hesitated when a wave of nausea flowed over her.

"As you were saying, Princess?"

"I am late to rejoin my ladies," she said and returned the way she had come. With each step away, she felt less and less ill. She was back on the main level when she bumped into Maggie.

"I've been looking all over for you," Maggie puffed, out of breath. "I was on my way to find Abe."

"I was going to the lower solar. I told you that just minutes ago."

"Michonne, it's been at least a half hour since I saw you last."

"Are you sure? I was just here with you, Andrea and Rosita. Did you not recall that I was going below stairs?"

Maggie frowned over Michonne's lost time. "It must have slipped my mind."

"Isn't that peculiar?"

Maggie shrugged. They walked toward Michonne's residence.

"When's the last time we've been to the lower solar?" Michonne asked Maggie.

Maggie considered. "I can't recall."

"Now that is peculiar. We used to meet there quite frequently. I was on my way there but then he showed and suddenly I didn't want to anymore."

"Who?"

"Sir Philip."

"Do you want to go down there and look around?"

"No," Michonne decided. "He's down there now, guarding the room. The less I see of him, the better. I'll talk with my parents about it. Why were you looking for me?"

"It's about Rosita. She received news about her mom."

Michonne smiled widely and rushed off to Rosita's chambers, followed closely by Maggie. When she arrived, she stood in the doorway, taking in the scene. She watched in shock as Rosita placed various garments on her bed and her maid packed them into a large satchel. Andrea was sitting in a wingback chair and stood when Michonne entered, her eyes sad.

"What are you doing?" Michonne asked unnecessarily.

"The meeting with the queen; you were right, it was about my mother. Daryl found a trail; we know where she is. Or where she was last. We kept looking west because my mom was traveling to Lonestar Kingdom to visit relatives, but he found her north. She's at The Sanctuary Kingdom. My father and I are going there."

"Right now?"

"On the morrow, at dawn. Oh, Michonne, Andrea, Maggie. I can't tell you how hopeful this makes me. This is so much more than I've had in so long."

Michonne was elated for her. "Wait a moment," she said before rushing off to her chamber. Once there, she opened a hidden panel that held bank notes and jewels. Reaching underneath a heart-shaped amethyst, she grabbed a handful of loose gemstones and returned to Rosita.

"Here, take these. Just in case." She gave the stones to Rosita.

"Michonne, I won't need these. I'll be with my father."

"Then you probably won't need them. But just in case. My mother says a lady should always have her own resources, no matter what her situation."

"Thank you," Rosita said gratefully. She placed gems in a small velvet pouch.

"Is there any other way I can help?"

"Maybe I can also take Abe?" Rosita proposed, half-joking.

"You know that's not possible."

"Do you think he'll wait for me?

Michonne opened her mouth to respond but didn't know how to tell her cousin she wasn't sure Abe returned her affections. "I don't know."

Rosita nodded and handed the pouch to her maid to be put away for safekeeping.

Michonne was elated too. "I wish I could go with you."

Rosita's eyes twinkled. "You have a wedding to prepare for. Although I wonder who the groom will be."

"I've been wondering the same," Andrea said.

"You make too much of a simple kiss," Michonne defended.

"What was going on in the maze, it was much more than some kiss," Maggie stated. "I mean, there are kisses and then there was you and that messenger at that fountain."

Michonne sighed. "I don't want to talk about it now. We're here for Rosita."

Rosita and Andrea looked at each other and shared a smile. Rosita dismissed her maid.

"Maybe we should confess," Maggie said. "I don't know if I can be you any longer."

"Why not?"

"The prince. He is charming, very persuasive." Maggie's eyes wandered about the room.

"Is that so?"

"And, I think . . .," Maggie cleared her throat and looked back to Michonne. "I think he is falling in love with me."

"And you with him?" Michonne kept the hope out of her voice. Surely her mother could only be so enraged if the prince fell in love with Maggie instead. Maggie was like her sister.

"You have to set this right, Michonne. The prince's heart is good and earnest."

"You promised me two days. Please give me that." Michonne pushed away the panic rising at the thought of not spending any additional time with Rick.

Maggie set her jaw. "Fine. I'll keep my word. But it's not kind to trifle with matters of the heart."

After parting from her ladies, Michonne went to find her mother.

"She's leaving," she announced, walking into her parents' residence. Her mother was in her boudoir, reading at the window seat.

Amara closed her book. "My daughter. Good eve."

"Hello Momma." Michonne dipped quickly. "She's leaving. What are we going to do about it?" She joined her mother at the seat and slipped under the quilt with her.

"It's as I expected. She needs to find Rosario. We don't have cause to storm into The Sanctuary when there is no evidence Rosario is there against her will."

"Lord Benito is going too."

"Yes."

"Who will be in control of the guard while he is away?"

Amara sighed. "They will report to Benito's second, Lord Theodore, for now. It has been submitted that Philip step in while Benito is away."

Michonne frowned. "Is he even qualified?"

"Your father believes that he is. You will learn, Michonne, that you must pick and choose the struggles with your husband. You will see. Philip has yet to be appointed as a member of the great council and until then, overseeing the guard would be theoretical only. The fight worth fighting is keeping him off the council."

Michonne nodded, trusting that her mother was aware of all that was happening.

"Why is Sir Philip still even here? There is something off about him."

Amara hummed in agreement. "We are in an unfortunate situation where he has become a confidant of your father's."

"Can't you just have him removed?"

"It is not that simple, Michonne. He is a special guest of your father's. Unless I have tangible evidence that he has acted untoward or in a treasonous manner, I can't just cast him out. Has something transpired with him that makes you feel this way?"

Michonne tilted her head to the side as she thought. She remembered seeing Philip on her way to the lower solar but not the specifics of the encounter that upset her. Michonne shook her head.

Amara nodded. "How fare things with the prince?"

Michonne picked at the wool blanket. "He is nice enough." She longed to tell her mother about him, the one that had captured her heart. "He seems a little taken with Maggie."

Amara stared hard at her daughter. "That won't do Michonne. The prince is for you. I won't accept anything else."

Michonne sighed and rested her head on the window.

King Andreas entered the room and smiled at his wife and daughter.

"My lovely ladies," he said. Michonne got up to greet her father with a kiss on the cheek. He seemed to be his usual self when lately he was often lethargic and forgetful. She watched as her parents hugged each other.

"If we didn't already have plans, I swear I'd come in here anyway to escape him," Andreas complained.

"Escape who?" Amara asked, already knowing the answer.

"The under-steward. Horvath. Every time I turn around, he is there."

Amara nodded sympathetically. She turned to her daughter. "Michonne, your father and I will not be attending dinner. I have decided that you will host the prince and his guests. I've already had Carol pen an invitation on your behalf to be sent over."

"Yes ma'am," Michonne said dutifully. "We can use the private dining room. In the great hall, we'll be the center of attention in a most distracting way."

"I agree. The dining room will be perfect. Why are they residing at Mystic Wonder? There are rooms here."

"Momma, you said I could get to know him on my terms, without interference. I decided we could each have our own space and privacy if they were at the guest house. At least until his parents arrive."

"I remember what I said, Michonne." Amara narrowed her eyes. "I don't want any mischief."

"No ma'am."

There was a lull in the conversation and Amara and Andreas waited for Michonne to take her leave.

"Run along Michonne," Andreas said when she lingered.

"Now?" she asked, looking between her parents as they watched her. Understanding struck as to why they were hurrying her out of the room. "Oh. Ew."

Mystic Wonder

Rick paced around his chamber, mulling over his situation, thinking of her. Emme. He admitted to himself that he was in love with her, deep and everlasting and yet he was betrothed to her princess. He would do anything to be with her, but short of an elopement, he saw no way it would be possible. It could end with them both being disowned. Emme loved her family; he didn't want to cut her off from her family. And he couldn't imagine the rest of his life not talking and spending time with his family. He didn't want to choose.

There was a knock and he opened the door to find Sasha on the other side, holding up a square of vellum.

"We've been invited to dine privately with the princess and her ladies this evening," she said.

"Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"No, Rick, it's not a good idea, but we're not in a position to decline."

"What if you took ill? Have some lady sickness or another. Like my mom."

Sasha threw him an exasperated look. "Your mother has a very particular malady and all of you would have my head if I were suffering from that condition."

Rick looked confused, distracted from their current dilemma by her comment.

"What do you mean? What's happening with my mother?"

"Nothing unfamiliar that she won't withstand. I'm sure Eloise will share when you see her next. In the meantime, we need to prepare for dinner."

Rick took the invitation and skimmed it. The scent on the card wafted to him and reminded him immediately of Emme. He remembered his time with her in the maze.

"I'll meet you downstairs in a quarter hour," Rick told Sasha before calling for his valet.

A half hour later, Rick, Sasha and Glen were walking to the main keep.

Rick remembered the plans he had made with Emme. "We are riding with the princess and her ladies in the morning. You'll have to seat Nebraska," he said to Glenn.

"Let's take a walk instead," Glenn offered.

"We walked today, in the maze. Emme and I decided that a ride would be in order. I've already told her that Nebraska is one of the prince's steeds, so you'll have to ride him."

"One of them, meaning the prince has others. You can ride him and I'll ride Onyx."

"I think you should be on the bigger horse. It's something a prince would do."

"If you are there Nebraska won't cooperate," Glenn said. "You know that he prefers you."

They arrived at the keep and were welcomed by a porter who escorted them to a private dining room.

Rick entered first, noticing the princess, Andrea and Rosita within, chatting around the fireplace. He greeted the ladies and stood near the door, waiting for Emme to arrive.

"Rick, we must talk." Glenn said, appearing next to him.

"Now?" Rick asked. He didn't want to leave. "We're about to sit for dinner."

"Yes, now," Glen insisted.

Rick stepped out into the passageway and got the attention of a passing servant.

"Is there a place where we can converse privately?" Rick asked him.

Horvath gave a nod. "Yes, your highness," he said, addressing Glenn. "Please follow me."

Michonne hurried through the corridors toward the dining room. She was late; having changed her mind three times before finally deciding on a gown. Indecision was an unusual trait for her and she was sure her maids had been baffled as they dressed and redressed her. She had chosen a lavender velvet dress with bell sleeves and a lace front bodice; the underdress a shimmery gray. It was a first for her, to consider what a man would think of how she looked. A bashful smile crossed her face as she thought about Rick and hoped he thought her good-looking tonight.

Her smile faded when she turned the corner and spotted Sir Philip at the other end. She halted outside the doors to the library. After weeks of avoidance, she was now seeing him too much for her liking. Philip was standing over a young servant, holding out his foot while his shoe was polished. She would have to pass by him to get to the dining room but she didn't want to interact with him. As if sensing her presence, he began to turn his head her way and she quickly slipped inside the library, hoping he hadn't seen her.

Two stories high with large windows, the library was filled with the aroma of leather, parchment and ink. Escritoires, upholstered benches and oversized reclining chairs were spread throughout, inviting visitors to stay a spell. It was unoccupied; dust motes welcoming Michonne as she rushed to hide behind one of the stacks. Several moments later, the door opened again and she held still, dismayed that Philip had followed her. When the footsteps didn't move beyond the entrance, she peeked between the shelves toward the front but couldn't see anything.

"So, let's talk."

She immediately recognized his voice. Rick.

"We have to end this."

Rick was with the prince. Michonne wondered what they were discussing and what they had to end. She quietly moved toward the doors to try to see them while she eavesdropped.

"You promised me two days. It's only been one."

"The princess . . . she is dazzling. She looks at me as if she truly sees into the heart of me. Her beauty leaves me speechless. I don't know how I have been able to converse with her when I feel I can barely form sentences. I like her; I have become so fond of her I fear too much time in her presence will make me weak."

"Glenn, you are a man with a sturdy character. Surely you can resist."

"I assure you. She is spectacular. We shared a kiss. In the maze."

Michonne's eyes widened and her mouth fell open. Maggie had neglected to share that bit of information.

She didn't hear what Rick said next. She eased closer.

"I cannot dishonor our king by falling in love with your intended."

Michonne was confused. Why would Maggie, who they believed to be the princess, be the one Rick was to marry?

"I will speak to him. We will find a way."

"That is not going to be possible. You have to reveal yourself. You have to tell them you are the prince."

A/N: Hey lovelies! I hope you all enjoyed this chapter and where the story is going. Forgive any typos, if I read through this chapter one more time, my eyeballs will fall out. I appreciate all the reads, reviews and follows; all of them. I'm tickled that so many of you are enjoying this story. So, this update took longer than I planned, but not as long as between the first two chapters, so I'm claiming it's a positive trend. I'm a slow writer and with editing, real life responsibilities and a propensity toward procrastination and distraction, I'm doing the best I can. Let's not talk about the one-shots in between ;)