Disclaimer: I do not own Caster Chronicles. So, second one-shot. I hope people enjoy it. Wow, haven't updated in forever. I'm really sorry, but I had so many other stuff, I just totally forgot about this. But it's here! Please forgive me!

Summary: Lena wants a bedtime story to help her fall asleep. So her uncle tells her the story of the broken Duke Macon and how his niece, Princess Lena, saved him.

Macon tucked Lena in bed and kissed her forehead. He prepared to get up when Lena's arms tightened around him.

"Story?" His nine-year-old niece asked. Macon sighed, and nodded. He sat down on the bed, and gently pried her little hands away from his neck.

"If you want a story, you must lie still," he told her. Lena nodded, pulled the quilt up to her chin, and waited expectantly. Macon racked his brains for a story. He very well couldn't tell her the ones Silas had occasionally told him when he was feeling generous. Those had all been the same: "Casters are evil, Incubuses must eradicate them, no, I don't care what you think, or what you feel, or that you have feelings in general. In fact, I hate you, and I will mentally scar you for years, simply because I am racist and abusive, and you don't want to follow my twisted logic." He didn't actually say that, but Macon caught the undertone. Suddenly, Macon had an idea. Lena had shown how much she cared about Macon. It was time for him to repay the favor.

"All right," he said. "Once upon a time, in a faraway land, there was a Duke. His name was Duke Macon. Now, Duke Macon's family was very rich and powerful. But when Duke Macon fell in love with a commoner, the family disowned him. So Duke Macon was living alone in his castle, without anyone who loved him."

"I thought only royalty had castles," Lena interrupted.

"Duke Macon was very rich, almost like royalty," Macon explained. "Now, one day, Duke Macon learned that his sister, Queen Izabel, was going to have a child. Duke Macon knew that everyone in his family hated him. They looked at him with disgust whenever they saw him, so Duke Macon rarely showed his face."

"That must be so sad," Lena said softly. Macon nodded.

"It was," he murmured. "It really was. For nine months, everyone in Duke Macon's family blathered on about the royal birth. Duke Macon made sure to stay away. He didn't want to be near this child, who would soon be corrupted with thoughts on how horrible her uncle was. Until the day she was born. The family called a truce, and technically, forced Duke Macon to visit his newborn niece, the Princess Lena. Duke Macon didn't want to go, but, by royal decree, he had to. So he made his way to the Duchannes Palace. He could feel everyone's disgusted eyes on him as he walked into the Princess's room. Princess Lena was fussing, and no one could calm her down. So Queen Izabel handed her to Duke Macon. Instantly, the Princess stopped crying. She stared at her uncle in undiluted love and adoration. Duke Macon didn't want his heart to soften. He had suffered too much in his life, had been hurt too much. But when he saw that tiny, fragile, perfect little life in his hands, he softened. The girl had a hold on his heart that would never let go. The Duke," Macon took a deep breath, hoping his voice wouldn't crack, "Instantly loved his little niece. So when her parents died, he helped raise the Princess."

"But why?" Lena asked softly. "If the family hated him so much?" Macon took another shuddering breath.

"Because the Princess didn't," he explained. "She loved him unconditionally, and he loved her the same way. The end." Macon made to get up, but Lena clung to his hand.

"The Princess loved him a lot, you know," she said solemly. "She always did, from the moment she saw him." Macon smiled at his niece, his own little princess.

"I know."