A soft breeze settles on me while I’m strolling through the Green Walk with Princess Laura at my side.

“So, you come from an unknown Human Republic?”

“Kind of,” I say.

She looks into the distance with her eyebrows furrowed, trying to conjure names of possible places I could be from. The fact that my birthplace is still a mystery doesn’t play well when you potentially have to marry into the Elven kingdom.

“Why can’t you tell me where this place is? My family will need to know, Joey.”

“You don’t know it. Your family won’t either. I can’t really do anything about it,” I say as I look at a huge windmill covered in weird plants.

Princess Laura shoves me, making me stumble and almost hit a horse trotting on the side.

“What’s the matter with you?!”

She only chuckles in response.

“There are only a few Republics that I know. Even fewer are governed by Humans. And many [Diplomats] coming from those places don’t like the idea of royalty.”

The only royalty I know is the old Queen of England. And I don’t think Americans usually care about that. It’s more like an afterthought. Maybe some very red-blooded ones might still hold a grudge against the English royalty, but I really don’t think that’s common.

“I have nothing against royalty,” I say, trying to think if I have any problems with them. Nothing comes to mind, though.

“That would be one requisite when asking to marry a [Princess],” she snorts.

“I like how open you are about it.”

“What should I do? Feign that all that has happened recently does not exist? My mother lost the throne because of me,” she says, suddenly darker.

“Your mother lost the throne because she taught you that all Humans are pieces of crap.”

She opens her mouth to say something, but then her lips twist and kill whatever was going to come out. I’m under the impression that she had something mean in the bullet chamber but that she just shot the ground instead.

“I am not sure you will ever realize how absurd this is,” she says, rotating a finger between us. “How do you just go around saying ‘yeah, I’m going to fight a war if you marry me,’ and mean it? My Ancestor said he checked your words—multiple times. You are not lying. And you don’t just believe it. Reality itself seems to believe it.”

She’s talking about the difference between common truth stones and superior truth-checking spells.

“I want to do magic. I’m very good at it. That’s pretty much it. If I become strong enough to prevent uncountable deaths and enforce peace, why not? It’s not like it would diverge much from the path. If I learn magic and become powerful enough, I will be roped into politics one way or another. But if I take action myself, at least it’s my choice.”

She grounds her feet down and starts laughing. Internally, I can’t help but admire her. Her spontaneous laugh is so unbridled she can barely check herself.

“Can I ask a question that might get me stabbed?”

“Sure,” she nods, still reeling in laughter.

“How can a person go from Human-killer madwoman to a reasonable and responsible [Princess]? When we met for the first time, you seemed as crazy as they make them.”

"I spent a lot of my childhood alone, and a lot of that time wondering about what I did wrong. I began doing it on a daily basis. And it makes you question everything you do to the point where you question your actions even if you act like a jerk. Only difference is that I usually second-guess after the fact rather than before."

…

I watch while Princess Laura talks to a little girl. I’m not sure what happened there, but we found her crying in the middle of the Green Walk and Her Highness seemed receptive to it. Sure, I would have done the same, but I let Laura have this one.

There’s a sneaking feeling in my gut. Like a literal snake made of loving feelings that’s slowly crawling under my skin and toward my heart. That’s what it feels like to spend time with her. Whatever she says, it’s not flamboyant love that I feel but a warm feeling that her side is where I’m meant to be.

“Joey, she got lost when she was running around here with her brothers,” Princess Laura says, looking at me. The kid doesn’t look older than six or seven.

I go up to the small Elf and smile.

“Hello, there, little girl,” I say.

Is ‘little girl’ creepy?

“I’m not a little girl!” she spits while screaming at me. “My brothers left me here!”

I look at Laura, hopeful she has a better explanation.

“Her brothers left her here.”

Thanks, Sherlock.

“Ok, what do you say we bring you to the Watch, and they help you get back to your family—”

“WEEEEH,” she starts crying. More screaming than crying, but you get the gist of it.

“Oh, shoot. Laura, do you know that wolves come here to eat children who cry aloud?” I gasp to add emphasis.

All of a sudden, the child goes silent and pale – the poor thing is now scared to death. Good. I’m not that good with children. They are like cats. Obnoxiously entertaining, but still obnoxious.

“Let’s help her find her family,” I say.

We start moving back toward the city, leaving the great sights of the Green Walk behind us. However, what really stuck with me from this stupid afternoon was one thing. The Green Walk is not just a park. It’s a massive clump of incredible architecture, a veritable Mount Rushmore if that thing actually looked good. And bigger. Much bigger. But what really got to me was not the incredible sights. Or, to be more precise, not the incredible sight of the buildings.

No.

It was Princess Laura talking like someone who knew themselves. Because it’s easy to act out, to be yourself. You know how people just say, ‘Yeah, dude, just be yourself.’ What a load of crap. If you are just yourself, you are most likely an asshole. People are not wired to be good. Being good takes effort. Hell, being decent takes effort. Being good, more precisely, is a titanic endeavor. It’s not a case that Prometheus had to be a Titan to bring fire to humanity, and even he suffered unspeakable torture for one simple act of kindness.

And so, I’m terrified.

I’m scared shitless – pardon my French.

While Laura holds the little girl’s hand, whose name I didn’t even register, I realize I’m scared. I’m scared of this woman. She’s good. She’s too good. With Lucinda, I still believed she could betray me, stab me in the back. With Laura, I have to force the idea on me. Otherwise, my gut is telling me that this is it. This woman might be the perfect match for me.

But can it be that simple?

Can love really be that simple?

I look at her massive buns, sticking out even from the loose [Mage] robe, and I nod to myself.

It can.