Will You Be My Princess?

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"You can't say you've just started getting along with me because we've rarely spoken before the party. We haven't just started getting along because we neither got along nor haven't gotten along before," she explained as she gently pet the horse's mane and back. "Good girl Midnight," She whispered soothingly to the black animal as she kissed her nose.
 
"Just started talking to, then." He sighed. He was probably going to hate himself for saying this, but he worked up the nerve to make his peace offering. "I'll give you two questions to ask me, and I'll answer 'em."
 
"Alright," she said as she grew silent and thought carefully about what she was to ask. "What exactly did the letter say in its entirety?" She asked as she stopped petting Midnight briefly and looked at him.
 
"It was from my cousin. My uncle just passed away and she was panicking about his gambling debts and running the family forge. She couldn't make a sword for her life. She couldn't find a job elsewhere, so she turned to me." Aryn answered flatly. He waited for her next question in complete silence.
 
She opened her mouth to speak but soon closed it. She had heard the flatness in his voice and crossed her arms. "I would have expected a bit more emotion of I just found out one of my relatives died and another one is in need of help," she said as she mounted Midnight. "I had another question but seeing as how you act and don't trust me, I'll leave you alone. I'll stay out of your hair from now on," she said before turning the horse and riding off. Once she got back to the stables, she unsaddled the horse and went inside, immediately getting a shower. She had completely forgotten about the party tonight until she had gotten back so she was in a rush. She made sure the paint was off before drying off and curling her hair lightly. She dressed in a beautiful purple gown and pinned her hair up before doing her makeup and slipping in her black heels, ready to be presented.
 
Aryn watched as the princess rode off. How could he show emotion over the death of that monster? And why did he actually believe that the princess would understand?
He got up on his horse and rode back to the castle. He assigned two other guards to watch over the princess tonight, as he doubted she would like to see him. He sat with his horse in the stables, his gaze thoughtfully fixed on the ground. He ran a tired hand through his hair, revealing a long jagged scar on his head that was usually hidden by his hair. This was one fine mess, he thought bitterly. "What do you think about all this?" He asked his horse, who snorted in responce. Smart horse. He stood up and made his way to the training hall, where he could take out some of his frustration.
 
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America sighed and silently walked into the ball room and sat silently on her throne. She noticed the two guards and got the attention of the nearest one, requesting Sir Aryn instead. Whether or not he wanted to be around her, he still owed her one more question and maybe she could use the opportunity to set things straight.
 
The guard nodded and hurried off to find Aryn. The head guard entered the ball room with a small frown, his expression unreadable. He dismissed the remaining guard and stood next to the princess, waiting for what she would say.
 
America remained silent until the room was filled with partying people. She waited a few more minutes before standing and walking over to him. "One dance," she said simply as she looked at him. "You still owe me a question."
 
Aryn held her gaze and silently offered his hand for the dance. He wore a small frown on his face as he waited for her question.
 
America danced with him as she thought for a moment. "What did he do to make you not show any sympathy when he died?" She asked as she looked at him.
 
"He was an abusive drunk douchebag who only targeted me." Aryn explained in a quiet voice, his gaze shifting around to make sure that no one was eavesdropping. He felt utterly exposed talking about the troubles of his childhood, and fell into an awkward silence afterwards.
 
"I'm sorry...I didn't know," she said softly as she gripped his hand a bit tighter and noticed Giles staring once again. She ignored it and looked down as she thought carefully. "I'm sorry I stormed off like that...I was just always taught to show sympathy when someone dies and I just wasn't used to it."
 
Aryn nodded softly with her apology. "I'm afraid I won't be making the best of company tonight." He spoke quietly, a small, weak smile appearing on his face as the song came to an end. He let the princess go and headed back to his spot by the throne.
 
She walked over after him and looked at him with confusion. "Why do you say that?" She asked curiously as she absentmindedly smoothed out the dress-probably her favorite one.
 
Aryn furrowed his brows at her question and thought about answering it. But an odd figure walking up behind the princess caught his attention and set off warning bells in the back of his mind. Something wasn't right with this picture. He stepped forward, hand on the hilt of his sword as he noticed a glint of metal up the man's sleeve. "Sir, I'm afraid the princess isn't speaking to anyone at this time." His voice contained an authoritative note to it, while still keeping a simple politeness.
The man, however, wasn't even close to being polite as he drew his blade and took a swing at Aryn. The guard grabbed the man's wrist and twisted until he dropped the knife. The man had turned around to try and get away, so Aryn gave a strong kick to the back of his leg and the man crumpled to the ground with a yelp, drawing the attention of the ballroom crowd. The two guards positioned outside the ballroom hustled in to assist the captain.
 
America jumped back nervously as the man walked up behind her. She moved away just as she saw the blade and inhaled sharply to scream, but no sound came out. She noticed a guard came to her side and she gripped his sleeve unknowingly as she watched in nervousness
 
Aryn kept the man pinned on the ground until another guard came with a pair of cuffs. The captain stood up and brushed himself off, fixing a cold gaze on the man as he was led out of the room. "The King of Stein sends his regards, princess!" The man yelled over his shoulder as he was shoved out of the room.
Aryn frowned softly and put two fingers to his cheek, and sure enough, the bastard had just nicked him with the blade. He shifted his attention back to the princess. "Are you alright?" He asked worriedly.
 
America stared after the man before turning her attention to Aryn. She reached up with a trembling hand and just grazed the cut, her fingers coming back to her with blood on them. Ignoring his question, she simply moved a bit closer and glanced around. "I can tend to your wound," she said simply, not caring about anyone watching then.
 
Aryn gave the princess a good natured smile. "I'd hardly call it a wound. Let's get you back to your room." His tones were warm and comforting as he attempted to ease the princess' nerves.
 
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