“Well, Mr. Constantine…” Alarice smiled, “You’re quite poetic.” Then again, the sword was its own kind of poetry – though it was a rare thing to find someone gifted in both. And while it was evident that the green-haired third realmer did not recognize her, she found something of herself in him and that was comforting. If she had been accused of it, the brunette would have denied it, but now he had to wonder if her motives for pushing Licia School to accept third realm students hadn’t been at least a little bit self serving. From whom else could she hope to hear news of home? Her heart ached at the thought: after all these years…Licia still wasn’t her home, would likely never feel like it was. Was that the fate slated for the boy beside her?
“Life often does that. But, given your skill with the sword I have no doubt you will find some way to maneuver the uncertainty you must be feeling.” She’d been coy long enough, felt guilty for it too. His face was as familiar to her as her own; was among the many others that had been drilled into her head, some in childhood and some only days before. All in the name of making her seem the cultivated Lician-raised lady she was supposed to be. But she wasn’t that. As the crown drew nearer Alarice feared it never would be. It was time he knew who she was.
“Mr. Constantine I have something to confess,” The royal sighed, searching out his eyes in the darkness. “I…”
“Alarice!” Irritated, his eyes in narrow slits as they stared down at her, Herbert gave her away before she could do it of herself. “Princess.” He amended, realizing she wasn’t alone and ducking in a semblance of a bow to keep up appearances. “Your absence has been noted. It’s best you come before the rest of your guard starts leading a search through this charming forest.” He held out his hand with an expectant look – not even sparing Zeke the courtesy of a nod. But she owed him better than that. “Of course, Herbert. But do please allow me to say goodbye to Mr. Constantine, his company was…thoroughly enjoyable.” A dozen changes came over her, the slight raise of her chin, the neat clasp of her hands, the gentler timbre of her voice not least among them. Alarice was Princess Alarice once more, the girl he’d stumbled into in the forest disappeared into the dark. “I meant to ask before I left, how is your stomach? I trust our spar did not result in any lasting injury?”