Summary: he was a thief. she was a princess. they shouldn't have anything in common, and yet they did.

Every night, the townsfolk liked to gather at the inn, downing mugs full of ale and swapping stories and rumours.

And every night, when pockets were emptied and tongues had grown loose, people would tell tales about a legendary master thief who prowled the night with a wicked smile adorning his lips – a gentleman thief who picked the pockets of the rich and gave to the poor.

There was a marvellous bounty on his head. The amount of gold promised for his capture, sponsored by the wealthy elite, was of the likes they'd never seen before – but he was light-footed and cunning, and no one had even the slightest idea what he looked like.

Well, there were rumours. Some said he had hair the colour of a raven's wing, that he could slip into someone's shadow and follow them all the way home without them ever realising. While others claimed that he had hair as bright as the sun, that he might well be one of the nobles himself, hiding in plain sight and cavorting with the devil when the sun went down.

But what was truth and what was a lie, no one knew. Some even said that he didn't exist; that the phantom thief was the result of some drunkard's dream fever, a fantastical story but nothing more than that. Though of course, most people didn't believe this possibility.

Why would anyone want to be realistic when the alternatives were so much more interesting?

The only thing anyone could be sure of was that he called himself Kagamine Len. Even this was a point of contention – once, the master thief left a note at the scene of crime, taunting the authorities with clues and riddles that supposedly revealed his true identity. But no one was able to solve the puzzle, and eventually, people started saying that the note couldn't be real, that someone else must have planted the evidence to distract from the crime.

It was almost disappointing. He'd hoped that at least one of those buffoons who worked for the sheriff would be able to piece together something, but it appeared that he thought too highly of them. It could get lonely sometimes, plotting and stealing without repercussion.

"Really?" he now asked, leaning against the parapet. "You wouldn't give them to me even if I asked nicely?" He smiled at her, wondering if it would work – this was the same smile that had swayed so many noble ladies in the past, allowing him to take whatever he wanted from their expensive households while they showed him the way around their mansions.

"No. And you know I won't," she answered, amusement ringing clear in her voice. He let out a sigh. It had been a month so far – every night without fail he visited her, but she still had yet to change her mind. He was fascinated by how she was able to resist his charms – it was the first time his pretty smile didn't work on someone. He'd charmed even a good few men with his looks.

"You hurt my poor heart, Your Highness." He studied her face, hoping she might feel pity for his sorry condition. But she looked unmoved.

"That is unfortunate. Perhaps it's a sign for you to give up. There are many other treasures out there for you to steal – you need not fixate so terribly on mine."

"You're not wrong. But none of those treasures is owned by someone as lovely as you." He meant every word he uttered. The princess who watched over the Five Rings of Izar was the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen. She simply smiled back at him.

The rings were the prized possession of Driyle, worth more than anything the kingdom had to offer. Each of the five rings was supposedly set with an enchanted stone that would grant its owner control over unique magic – it was said that wearing the rings together would ensure their owner's good fortune, and possibly even grant their wishes.

He thought there might be some truth to the rumour. After all, Driyle was indeed a wealthy and prosperous kingdom – there was little crime, the streets were safe to walk at night and the people adored their princess. In two years, she would ascend the throne, ruling in place of her deceased parents, but for now, she listened to the advice of her ministers.

One of her royal duties included protecting the rings, which complicated his plans to steal them. He wanted her treasures, not so much because he craved their power but rather to prove that he could get his hands on anything he wanted, so long as he put his mind to it. Len had an entire list of royal collectables he wanted to seize and the rings happened to be the very last item on that list. Once the princess was willing to give in to his demands…

But she seemed determined to prevent him from getting any further. Not that he minded. He wasn't one to admit defeat so easily, and this challenge provided a nice change of pace.

Still. The more time he spent here, trying to persuade the beautiful girl to surrender the royal heirlooms, the more he wondered what was his real purpose for coming to the palace.

The princess, Hatsune Miku, was undeniably lovely. Men all across the land sought her hand, but she never paid her suitors any heed – instead, she devoted her time to learning the ways and secrets of the royal family. Her citizens guessed she might marry in the future, but there was no indication of her being interested in romance at present.

Before he met her, he'd dismissed all the tales about her legendary beauty, thinking that her citizens were bound to exaggerate when it came to their beloved princess. But when he saw her up close for the first time, waiting for him outside the palace treasury, he had to take back everything he assumed about her. She was the most breath-taking person he'd ever seen.

She told him without preamble that the Five Rings of Izar were locked in an enchanted box in her bed-chamber, and she was the only one who could unlock said box – in other words, even if he managed to take the box out of the palace, it would be useless to him. She even passed him the box and invited him to pry it open with brute force, and he had failed miserably.

Supposedly, no other magic-user would be able to unlock the box either, and though he was tempted to just run away with it to test her claim, she warned him she would know the instant it left her bed-chamber and he wouldn't get far before he was caught by the palace guards.

Not that he thought the guards were intelligent enough to outsmart him. But since she was kind enough to give him all this information, he thought that being upfront was the least he could do. Anyway, if he could somehow convince her to hand it over of her own accord, then he would truly be a skilled master thief, wouldn't he? And so here they were.

But so far she had stubbornly refused all his attempts at persuasion. At times he wondered why she had yet to call the guards on him – she knew he was a thief, and that his intentions were far from pure, but still she allowed him to visit her every night, entertaining his magic tricks and small talk, sharing stories about his travels around the world.

She was wise beyond her years, and he was fascinated by her. Once in a while, he'd see her meditating in her room, sitting cross-legged on top of her bed with her eyes closed, palms pressed together in front of her chest. He would try to surprise her then, but somehow she always knew when he was approaching, as though she was able to hear even his footsteps. And in a battle of wits, she was more than his equal – he held a grudging sort of respect for her, and judging by the knowing gleam in her eyes, she was aware of that too.

"Did I ever tell you before? I can see into the future." They were both standing at the balcony, the night breeze fresh and cool against their faces. The intoxicating scent of roses wafted up from the gardens. "It's an ability that only awakens within a select few from my bloodline. Once every few centuries, a child will be born with the gift of clairvoyance."

"No, you've never mentioned this. So you can see people's futures?" he asked. She nodded, and he thought about how her petite frame belied the power that simmered within her. The Driyle royalty was long renowned for being remarkably skilful with magic, and it appeared that she was no exception. "Have you looked into my future then?"

She frowned. "I have," she answered. "But I cannot tell you what I saw. It's a tradition, you see – people will try to change their fates, and that often results in terrible outcomes. But what I can tell you is that with caution, you can change your path. My visions reveal nothing more than possibilities, the future that is most likely to occur given your current situation."

"The fact that you're telling me all this makes it sound like I'll have a terrible future." He wasn't too sure how to feel – he'd never been the kind to believe in reading the future, but she was not some dubious fortune teller offering the secrets to wealth. This was the princess of Driyle, a maiden known for her powerful magic. Not listening to her might be a grave mistake.

She just smiled; it was a gentle smile that made something in his heart flutter before she looked up at the moon and sighed. He took that as an indication of her tiredness – she rarely stayed out here for long. "Before you return," he said, causing her to look back down from the night sky, "take this." He held out a rose, and her eyes widened. "I'll see you tomorrow, perhaps?"

Hesitantly, she reached towards the flower. Its fragrance was sweet but not too overpowering, the bloom drooping slightly, dark red in the moonlight. "When did you get this…?" she tried to ask, aware that he had been emptyhanded when he first came to see her – but before she could continue, a gust of wind blew past her and when she looked up, the thief was gone.

Miku was lonely. It wasn't something she liked to admit, being the princess of Driyle – as their ruler she was supposed to be sure of herself. She was never meant to give in to her emotions.

But she was horribly, terribly lonely.

When the thief began to visit her, she was glad to have his company. She couldn't remember if she had regular human interaction before his nightly escapades – once it became clear that she had the gift, her parents immediately made her next-in-line for the throne, bypassing her older siblings who were undoubtedly more suitable for such responsibilities.

She never wanted to rule. All her life she had been surrounded by sycophants who grovelled to her because of her gift. She was the princess who could see into the future, and that made her wonder how many of her so-called friends genuinely cared about her rather than her clairvoyance. Her siblings tired of the attention she received, and in the end, her parents had them sent away so that they would not attempt to sabotage her ascension to the throne.

One day they returned to the kingdom to start a rebellion, and their armies fought a bloody war that lasted a year – however, her family all passed away during the uprising, leaving her as the sole survivor. Her soldiers won, but at what price?

She knew that her parents would not live through this battle. She was the one who had told them beforehand, who had pleaded with them to just give the throne to her elder siblings – but her parents paid her no heed, deciding that they would rather lose their lives than lose their control over the kingdom. To prepare for their deaths, they assembled a cabinet that comprised their most trusted ministers to help her govern until she turned of age.

No matter which future she looked into, there were none where they fought their children and survived. She tried so hard to change their minds. But in the end, here she was. Alone.

She tipped her head back to look at the night sky. It was lovely, the stars twinkling cold and bright, scattered across the vast indigo expanse above. But the full moon reminded her of the day her siblings returned to make known their unhappiness, and she shut her eyes, not wanting to recall the images of violence and bloodshed. How she hated this curse she had been born with. But it wasn't something she could suppress and escape from – it was a part of her the same way her magic was, and it resided in her blood and her bones.

The only way she could free herself from the future was if she died. And she would – she'd like to step down and walk into the ocean, feeling the icy water flood her lungs, carving out a direct path to her family – but her people, her kingdom, they needed her.

Her thoughts drifted to the thief. What a strange man. She found him quite entertaining, the way he seemed so persistent about getting his hands on the Five Rings of Izar. She doubted that he was a truly bad person, but she couldn't for the life of her understand why he would want the rings so desperately. The rings wouldn't be of any use to someone outside of her royal bloodline. What could he be trying to prove?

He had to understand that the greatest treasures in the world were not necessarily material. Until then, she would continue to refuse him and his advances.

The rose he gave her bloomed beautifully in its glass vase, and she walked towards it, a hand reaching out to touch its scarlet petals. She pressed her fingertip against its sharp thorns, a tiny drop of blood beading on her skin. The rose was such a delicate, misunderstood thing, unintentionally injuring those who weren't careful with it. They reminded her of the person who had given her this flower – a thief whose name she didn't know. But he was clearly hurting on the inside.

He tried to hide his inner conflict behind casual smiles and genteel laughter, but he couldn't fool her. She wondered what secrets he might be keeping to make him feel this way. Then she wondered if she truly wanted to find out.

He sat cross-legged on the parapet, and the princess let out a sigh. "You'll fall off if you do that," she said, not even bothering to chase him away this time.

He only ever came to her at night, when the number of guards on patrol had lessened and it was easier to slip into the palace. The ministers were so protective of her that if anyone found out about their nightly rendezvous, things might become…problematic.

"Not if you're me," he answered, but he got off the railing anyway. "Well, Your Highness, you already know what I want – I suppose you won't be giving them to me today either, will you?"

He had spent three months in Driyle so far, visiting the princess every night, and every night she would give him the same answer. She shook her head, and he exhaled. "It was nice to hope for a little bit. I might have been disappointed if you said yes for a change."

"And why is that?" Her green eyes were tranquil like the night sky. Driyle had dazzling stars, bright and clear – the townsfolk had an unparalleled view of the heavens, and he found it almost enviable.

Truthfully, he enjoyed this place. It was sometimes too boring, sometimes too safe, but he'd rather have that than constant excitement. He valued his peace.

"If you handed them over, then I wouldn't have an excuse to come here anymore." He looked straight at her, and she blinked, her eyes widening. "Driyle has some truly amazing views," he said. "I wouldn't mind living here. But being a thief makes it difficult to settle anywhere for long. I end up getting too restless." He grinned. "This is the longest I've ever stayed in one place."

"Because of me?" She took a step towards him, meeting his gaze. He didn't answer, nor did he look away. "You've never given me your name, great master thief. I know of your exploits." She smiled. "The saviour of the common folk, he who pilfers from the rich and gives only to the poor. But why? What made you abandon your past and everything you know?"

He stiffened. "What do you know about me?" he asked. She didn't say anything – she just stared at him, patiently awaiting an answer. Finally, he sighed, raking a hand through his golden hair. The climb up to the balcony had left his hair somewhat dishevelled. "You want my name, princess? You might have heard the rumours…my name is Kagamine Len."

She blinked in recognition. "The same name as the missing youngest prince of Fayle?"

He nodded, and for a moment she didn't know what to say. Was he …? "Fayle is rich with resources and magic. If you are their prince, then you must have had everything you ever wanted. Why would you give all that up just to become a thief?"

He seemed to find it difficult to look her in the eye. She could hardly believe it – the rumours about the master thief had started six years ago. Now that she gave it a second thought, that was the same year the youngest prince of Fayle went missing. "We are renowned for magical warfare. For aggressive spells and curses. And in the same vein, Fayle is a kingdom of warlike people who pride themselves on their strength and bloodlust. But I disagreed with how we did things. And my abilities seemed better suited for other types of magic." His expression twisted. "Branches of magic that my family deemed inferior, even if they never said so aloud."

She knew how it felt to be considered different from the rest of her family. Though she was never once seen as weak, she understood how alienating it was to be treated unlike the rest. "And you ran away because of that?" she asked.

More than once she had considered escaping from her role. And in a way, she had. She avoided the nobles who tried to obtain her favour and declined invitations to balls and social gatherings. That way, she could protect herself from the superficial aristocrats who simply wanted to use her as a stepping stone. None of those people cared about how she felt, the only person in an empty palace when once the hallways were filled with warmth and laughter.

"Sort of. I ran because I saw how corrupted our advisors were. Since there was no chance I'd ever be king, the nobles tended to be less careful around me." He shrugged. "They took and took from the poor just to feed their overinflated coffers. Our people suffered, but my family did nothing, blind as they were to the faults of our ministers. And they did not believe what I had to say. In the end, I decided that I had no choice but to take matters into my own hands."

She couldn't help but feel sympathetic towards his situation. It made her wonder what she'd have done if she was in his situation – would she dare to take the same leap of faith? Len was presumed dead by now, after going missing for so long – she suddenly recalled seeing him once before when she was a child, at a diplomatic party meant for all the magical kingdoms. Her parents made her go, and she vaguely remembered seeing a blond boy with blue eyes making faces at her from across the long table.

"I saw you before. During the Titania gathering," she said. He cocked his head, and a sudden flash of recognition went through his eyes. "You asked if I was going to eat my slice of cake since I didn't touch it, and you were still hungry," she added, smiling at the memory.

He laughed. "Oh! I remember that now. It was so long ago…like another lifetime, almost." He shook his head. "You were such a shy child back then. I can't believe I forgot completely about that. Yes – you were so nervous that you spent most of your time hiding behind your older sister."

"My sister is dead." A pang of grief shot through her – though her siblings both coveted the throne and despised the fact that she, the youngest child, would become the queen, in the end, they were still her brother and sister, and she loved them. When they were children, her siblings had protected her from their parents' wrath whenever she got into trouble; it was only when they grew older that they slowly began to withdraw from her.

His face fell. "But it's all right," she reassured him, "I've accepted her death and the deaths of my family members as well. I'm sure they're still watching over me." She glanced at the sky, at the twinkling stars above them – there was a folktale about how stars were the glowing lights of deceased souls, and now she wondered which stars belonged to her family. "I just want to know though – I understand taking from the rich to give to the poor, but why do you want the Rings of Izar? They would not be of any use to you. Monetarily, they are not worth much either."

"Why? I don't know." He shrugged again. "To prove a point, I suppose. I want to show that I can sneak past even the tightest fortresses and steal the most heavily-guarded artefacts in the world. Nothing can stop me, not guards nor swords nor magic itself." He raised an eyebrow. "But it appears I have hit a stumbling block, for the princess of Driyle insists on resisting my advances."

Unbidden, her lips twitched. "You're not wrong," she acknowledged. He sighed and hopped gracefully up onto the parapet, spreading his arms and tilting his face towards the moon. She watched, concerned that he would fall off into the gardens below. "You don't need to resort to stealing things just to prove that you have worth," she murmured. She knew he could hear her, even if he didn't respond. "There are greater things in the world than material gains."

"Such as?" He looked down at her. "True love? Don't jest, princess – I didn't think you would be so sentimental." With a grin, he reached out to pat her head, and she stiffened, startled by the casual gesture. "You're so cute. I might end up falling for you if I'm not careful."

She felt heat rush to her cheeks. "I'm not interested in love or anything of that sort right now."

He laughed. "You're blushing! Don't tell me you want me to fall for you," he teased. Then his eyes softened. "You need not expect me tomorrow night, but in exchange, I placed a rose in your vase earlier. A white one this time. I trust you understand the language of flowers?"

And with that, he snapped his fingers and vanished into thin air. She blinked, surprised by his sudden disappearance, but she didn't try to look around for him – instead, she left the balcony, heading towards her glass vase. Just as he said, there was a delicate ivory bloom next to her scarlet one, their lovely scents filling up her entire bed-chamber. She reached for the soft petals of the new flower, trying to remember what a white rose signified.

White roses represented new beginnings and farewells. And the red rose symbolised eternal love and romance. She bit her lip – did he truly mean it? Or was she just overthinking things?

He surveyed his old home, the grand palace of Fayle standing tall on the cliff that overlooked the kingdom. His cloak rustled in the wind, and the night chill seeped into his bones.

Fayle was further north than Driyle, and the kingdom itself was enveloped by an eternal winter. In the summer, there was hardly any green to be seen on the steep slopes, but in the dead of winter, the trees were covered in frost and a layer of pure white muffled everything. The whole place of quiet, the kind of quiet that could drive one mad if they weren't careful.

The people were cold and distant. The only time their blood boiled was when they were at war, and war was something they engaged in often. Among themselves, with other nations, between families and friends. He hated how their actions were so often driven by anger and aggression. He hated how people whispered about him being weak just because he didn't want to use his magic to hurt others. And he hated being compared to his siblings.

Everyone treated him like the baby of the family, which was embarrassing and infuriating in equal measure. He was no longer a child, but his parents still coddled him, never once viewing him as an adult.

With a heavy sigh, he crouched and scooped up some of the powdery snow that fell around him, dissolving into his cloak. The snow was almost foreign to him now. He'd spent most of his time in the warmer nations down south, and the cold beauty of snow was something he had almost forgotten. There was a tranquillity about the village tonight, an air of serenity that seemed very out-of-place for battle-hungry Fayle. Maybe because he was still thinking about his conversation with the princess? He hadn't thought about his past in a while.

He never had to, after all. He was a thief and most people were grateful that he was handing out money to those who needed it most. They didn't question who he was or where he came from – in fact, most of the time he didn't even appear to his beneficiaries, instead choosing to leave his presents outside their doors. The fewer people there were who knew his identity, the better. He was tired of being surrounded by people he couldn't trust.

Should he visit his parents? He glanced at the palace with its tall, spiralling towers and its graceful arches, opening up into the heavens to welcome the snow, the pride and joy of their kingdom. After thinking it over, he decided he wasn't ready to face his parents and instead, he pulled up his fur-lined hood, concealing his face. It was time to return to warmer lands.

The roses never withered. He never came back after he left either. She wondered where he had gone – did he finally decide to return to Fayle? It was good if he did; the prodigal son going home at long last. But she doubted that his problems were that easy to solve.

Nevertheless, the possibility made her smile. At least he was no longer asking her for the rings all the time, though she admitted she missed him a little – it was almost strange to be alone again, even if she knew the rings were safe now.

The rings' protection was the most important thing, no matter what she felt. After all, it was her duty to keep them safe from harm.

She looked at the two roses in their glass vase. The flowers surely must have been enchanted to survive this long without withering. She wrapped her fingers around their petals, the silken softness of them caressing her skin. What was Len doing now? She briefly considered looking into his future, then dropped the thought – that'd be intrusive. The previous vision she had of him had come without warning; she wasn't the kind to try and peek at someone's fate.

That time, in his future, she had seen nothing but a lifetime of loneliness. Someone who traversed the world without family or friends. She'd seen herself within him, the young prince who was both like and unlike her – both of them outcasts in their families, her for being too powerful, him for just being different. Both of them loved but never fully accepted. And she thought that if he appeared before her again, she might find herself confiding in him.

For too long she had yearned for an outlet for all her fears, her sadness, her desires. She yearned for someone who would understand the resentment that simmered behind her placid smile. And she knew he wouldn't be frightened of her thoughts and emotions.

The first night he came to her, she was shocked that he could get past the palace guards and their defences, but at the same time she was delighted to be able to talk to someone – he did not nag at her as her ministers did, nor did he grovel like her servants and guards. He spoke to her as though she was a normal person, and she found his easy charm and manner to be particularly fascinating. Even his daily request for the rings entertained her.

"Where are you, Kagamine Len?" she whispered, lifting her gaze to the stars. The moon was bright and graceful, surrounded by all those twinkling dots, but at the same time, it looked so…alone. Out of all the celestial objects in the night sky, she identified with the moon the most – surrounded by others yet never quite fitting in.

But he wasn't that different from her, was he? She didn't truly dare to hope, but even so, unfamiliar warmth blossomed in her chest.

"Hey." She heard a familiar voice from behind her and she turned, meeting the thief's gaze – he smiled at her, looking as roguishly charming as ever. It had been a month since she last saw him; a month where she had gone out to the balcony every night, waiting for him.

And tonight was the night he had finally come back.

"Where did you go?" She kept her tone light, gentle – she didn't want to demand an answer. He exhaled, sitting haphazardly on the parapet, and she held back the instinctive warning that bubbled up to her throat. She'd told him off plenty of times before, and he hardly ever listened. Besides, she was quite sure he'd be fine even if he fell off. "You left without any warning."

"Why, were you worried about me?" His smile widened into a catlike grin, and she frowned at him. "I went back to Fayle. I wanted to see if anything had changed in the six years I was away," he admitted. "I didn't intend to contact my family at first, but when I was about to leave…well, I changed my mind. My parents had always loved me, and it wasn't entirely their fault that they were surrounded by corrupt advisors. I didn't want them to believe I was dead."

"You stayed there for a month?" she asked. He nodded, and she let out a sigh of relief. "It's good to see that you've reconciled with them. You should never turn your back on family."

There was a dreamy look in her green eyes; he remembered that her entire family was dead and immediately, he felt sorry for her, but he supposed she wouldn't want to be reminded of such things. "My family was overjoyed. I stayed a few weeks since my mother refused to let me out of her sight." He rolled his eyes. "But…in the end, nothing much has changed. They are still listening to the advice of the ministers, and without evidence, I cannot do anything." He paused. "I left again because I couldn't stand all the secrecy and the lies. Does that make me a coward?"

"No, it doesn't. It's a tactical retreat," she answered, and he relaxed. "One day you should return to expose the ministers so that your family won't continue to be deceived. It's your duty if you wish the best for them." He didn't nod, instead just studying her face. "Why come here after leaving Fayle, though? Are you still trying to get hold of the rings?"

"Ha. Forget about that." He shook his head. "I'm curious about my future, princess. Could you give me a clue about what is to come? My family told me that Fayle is preparing for war with Balthar." He hesitated, his blue eyes darkening. "Balthar has always been stronger than us, and their weaponry is far more advanced. They've been threatening to cut off our trade routes and impose tariffs, and my father could bear it no longer. We are a proud people. I should help my kingdom, but…I am no good in battle. Tell me, what should I do?"

She was taken aback by the frustration in his voice. It was the first time she'd heard him sounding so…honest. "I cannot look into the future as and when I want. But what I can do is help you with your magic, if you are open to that." He blinked at her, and she exhaled. "In truth, the rings are not Driyle's greatest treasure – it is our magical knowledge that keeps us afloat. As a member of the royal family, I wield the strongest magic and I know the most spells. I can teach you."

He didn't say anything for a while. She wasn't sure if he would want to take up her offer – he had confessed that he didn't enjoy violence, and what she was suggesting would go against his principles. She was about to take back her words, but then his mouth opened.

"Why are you helping me?" he asked. His voice was so small that it was almost inaudible. "Are you not afraid that I would someday return to steal your rings? Or that Fayle might wage war against your kingdom using the very spells you taught me? It's foolish to help someone when you have no formal alliance with them." He met her gaze, and his eyes were unreadable.

"Knowledge might be precious, but knowledge is also meant to be shared." She smiled and placed a hand on his shoulder. His body was stiff. "I don't fear you. You cannot open the box without a specific incantation that of course, I will not teach you. As for your family…right now we are at peace. And I do not intend to take sides, not even in the future. Driyle will not allow ourselves to get sucked into any sort of war between nations. That is not what we stand for."

He still seemed hesitant, but after a moment he nodded. "Thank you for trusting me, then." As he spoke, his gaze drifted towards the glass vase, and he blinked upon seeing the roses. "You didn't throw them away?" he asked, taking a few steps into her bed-chamber. "They're lovely, aren't they?" He reached out to touch the velvet petals.

Even now they were still as fresh as they were the day she received them. "They are," she agreed. Her rose gardens didn't have blooms as beautiful, much to her chagrin.

He turned to face her with a smile on his lips, and another rose materialised from out of nowhere in his hands. "How are you getting all these roses?" she exclaimed, her eyes widening in disbelief. This flower was a pretty blush pink, and unconsciously she reached for it.

"They're from my private garden in Fayle." His eyes twinkled. "I researched and enchanted the roses until finally, I created a breed that could survive even the heart of winter. You can leave these roses out in a blizzard and they wouldn't die." He brushed a finger against the pink petals before giving the bloom to her. "My roses are the only thing I have left that remind me of home."

She gently placed the rose in her vase. "Thank you very much," she said, taking in the sight of the three flowers – they were gorgeous to behold, and she inhaled, enjoying their soft, lovely scent. Then she turned towards him. "If I am to teach you, then I suppose it would be best that you stay in the palace. Before that, however, you must promise not to steal anything from our premises."

He narrowed his eyes, and before she could react he had grabbed her hand, pressing his mouth against her skin. His lips were warm and soft, and a sudden shiver ran through her.

"Princess," he laughed, "your heart is the only thing in this palace that I would like to steal."

A/N: This is pretty much a rewrite of jump ship (so I will delete the relevant chapters from the other series), but I'll include brand-new one-shots eventually! I'm trying to clean up my FFN LenKu stories right now since my writing style has changed from the last time I was active.