Jill points, and I straighten from where I was leaning against Jack.

The people whisper.

“Is that him? Can’t see beneath the hood.”

“Don’t look like much, does he?”

Hey, that hurt! But… don’t I like to be underestimated?

I hesitantly push back my dark brown cloak (no, I’m not idiotic enough to wear my red cloak out), and people’s eyes widen.

“That’s him, a’right. Struck my son’s shield ‘fore he went on to win the first round.”

People exchange glances, and Jill gives me a placid smile. I… I don’t know what I’m gonna do, but it sure as heck will have something to do with Jill and killing.

They stare at me, as if waiting for words of amazing and bountiful wisdom to spring from my lips.

“Erm—” my mind draws a blank.

“Great people of Risia, you all know how… shy my brother can be.” That actually drew laughter, which grows as I duck with a blush on my cheeks. Gooseberry pimples, what is wrong with people? But the crowd relaxes, the feeling in the air turning from murderous intent to contemplative silence.

“But what you don’t know is his true story,” Jill begins, and I can’t help but glare, hoping against hope she’ll stop before this gets worse. “When I was little, our father died. My mother barely had enough food to scrimp and scrape to put on our tables, and my brother gave up an offer to become an Honour Knight.”

Murmurs arise, people glancing between Jill and I. And I just want to wring her pretty little neck.

“S-He knew it would take him from us. He had to choose, us or the accumulation of his hopes and dreams?” She pauses, looking down. “Then I became sick. No one would help poor commoners, not even the castle healers. No one would even glance at me. My brother worked tooth and nail to find someone who would help, keeping us alive until brighter days came. But instead of allowing the mistreatment and downright criminal behavior of the nobles to make him angry or trying to get back at those who wouldn’t help us, he decided to help those very people who wronged us—” oh, heck no, anything but that! “—by competing in the prince protector tournament.”

I breathe a sigh of relief, shoulders slumping. Thank goodness it wasn't my Guardian secret. My clothes are sticking to my sweat-drenched skin—not comfortable, mind you, but more comfortable than the prickling at the back of my neck from so many eyes. At least she knows better than to spout my most devious secret. No, this isn’t death by a merciful knife to the heart. This is death by a thousand, pestering little needles. I didn’t realize my sister had such a downright nasty streak—nor such an eloquent tongue.

The people around look down at me, and I grimace. “Is it true?” the woman asks, her dark brown eyes boring into me.

I shrug, grimacing, not able to meet anyone’s eyes. How I wish for my red cloak to hide behind. “Yeah.” Papa tried. He would’ve made me an Honour Knight, had he lived. Heck, they even offered it to me after he went missing and presumed dead, but my family needed me more. The funds may have provided for better healers… but we had already used Father’s fortune seeking healers in the city and around the world. Money—besides enough to live on—was not the entire issue. And now I know why. Jill couldn’t be diagnosed because it wasn’t a disease. No amount of healers would’ve helped.

“You gave up an Honour Knight squireship? You must’ve been but a child!”

“I’m older than you think,” I say, a scowl crossing my lips as I puff out my chest and hope my voice is deep enough.

“Don’t you see? This is not the way. Turning on each other like wild animals, you should be ashamed of yourselves.”

The crowd turns their eyes back to Jill, whose regal bearing, petite features, and elegant azure dress makes her appear like some fae of old.

The people back away from the store, a few even coming forward to help the man to his feet. They won’t meet his eyes.

Jill nods, coming over to me, Becca wide eyed right behind her.

“Y-y-y-you’re th-th-the—”

“Not here,” Jill hisses from the side of her mouth at her friend.

I throw a shoulder around my sister, grinning for the crowd as they part before us, allowing us to leave. A few follow, but most glance between our retreating backs and the store.

“Didn’t I do good?” Jill asks, beaming from ear to ear. “I’ve always wanted to be an actor.” She releases a love-sick sigh, batting her eyes at the sky.

“I’m going to kill you,” I reply, still grinning for the crowd.

~~~

“She did what?” Silver glances at me, something like surprise lifting the mask from his face for a bare moment.

He came as soon as I let Hans know about the note. And I told him what happened in the market. He had a loud laugh at my expense.

The flowers and grasses sway, and the old grey barn where Ran has so far made her home is at our backs.

“I shoulda killed her when we got home, but, ya know, kids will be kids.”

I pluck a purple lilac that was growing in the yard, and the silence makes me self-conscious. I glance up to find him watching me with the weirdest look of self-satisfaction. “What?” I ask, defensive.

He shakes his head, a smile teasing at his lips. “You called this place home.”

I shove my short hair from my eyes, a small smile turning my lips. It’s bittersweet, really. I haven’t gotten up the courage up to return to my old home… but now, this place, with it’s creaking boards and soft mattresses and rustic fashion, has begun to feel like home. Partially because of who is here and that makes it special. “I did, eh? And where do you call home?”

A guarded expression overcomes his face, erasing the smirk. “Many places I’ve lived, many places I’ve known, but few have been home.”

I strip the lilac of it’s lower leaves, peeking up at him, only to find him watching the house, his face impassive to most. But I’m beginning to know this facet of him, and I can see the clench of his strong jaw and the pain he tries to hide in his eyes. I scootch over, barely touching his arm with mine, trying to offer what little comfort I can.

He glances down, one eyebrow raised, but then he softens and lifts his arm. I duck under it, and he squeezes my shoulder. I lean into him, feeling safe in the curve of his arm even with the knife hilts uncomfortably poking my ribs.

Pine and knife oil surround me, and I squeak when he kisses the top of my head, a blush deepening my cheeks.

A deep chuckle rumbles in his chest. “Relax, Mea Tigris. I don’t bite.”

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” I say softly, trying to hide the way his keeping his identity secret hurts. And somehow I feel like I know—and that he knows I know—which makes this somehow worse. "I promised before I wouldn't pry... but that doesn't mean I'm not curious."

He sighs, and I feel his body stiffen slightly before he relaxes. “When the time is right, you’ll know. But my life is… complicated. What I have here and now, with you, is special. I don’t wish it to change.”

“What about this is different?” I ask, trying to conscientiously force my muscles to unclench. Being this close to him is like dancing with fire: you either get warm or you get burned. Possibly both.

He rubs circles on my upper arm with his thumb. At first I stiffen, but then the tingles of his touch works it’s magic and I melt, my muscles relaxing of their own accord. This man should be a banned substance. He’s worse than any narcotic.

“You see me, Aria. You see the person beneath the mask, beneath the wealth or abilities. You care not that I can wield power easier than most, nor that I can kill or wield politics as a sword. You care because you see past the masks people rise, and you aren’t afraid to be yourself in a world of caricature.”

I duck my head. “Yeah, sure. The girl who wields alternate-identities as if they were mullein leaves is herself. Today, I was Sir Ri and Aria. Tonight I’ll be the Guardian. Tomorrow I may be the prince’s protector.” Yes, that was sarcastic. “I’ve begun to wonder who in all that I actually am.”

He pauses rubbing his thumb on my arm and uses his other hand to tip my head up to meet his eyes. “You are them all, Aria Rosen, Dragonheart, Guardian, and Protector. But what I see is not the masks, but the heart behind them. With each mask, you change not your heart and mind as the rest of us do, putting on personalities with the change of seasons, but you use the masks as a way to protect your heart.”

My face scrunches in confusion. His lips purse for a moment as he thinks, and it’s adorable how his eyebrows make a little furrow between them. I wanna poke it, but that’s be against my ‘keep him at arms distance’ policy that is slowly being disbanded by my discombobulated mind.

Ran snorts, but I push her sarcastic self away.

“Your masks don’t change who you are but are mere elements of the beautiful soul that is changing this world one heart at a time. You remain true to your values and who you are regardless of what mask you don.” I duck my head, my blush deepening. “And that is what—”

“Aria Rose! So help me you better be out here or I’m calling Hans to track you down. Or I'll find that wolf and have her sniff you out, we both know she'll do it and slobber you into next week!”

I jerk back from Silver as if scalded as Momma walks around the pathway from the house to the stable. She gasps, her hand touching her lips.

But then… then her eyes sparkle with a humor I find dreadfully terrifying. “Aria, dear, have you found a friend?”

Silver, the booger, merely leans back on his hands and smiles at my mother. “It’s a pleasure to see you again, Madame Dragonheart,” he says, standing to bow.

Momma purses her lips. “Manners, this one. But do you have what it takes to tame my daughter?”

He glances up from his bow, jaw tightening even as a practiced smile lightens his lips. “Aria doesn’t need to be tamed, Madame. In fact, quite the opposite.”

“Oh? Will you let my daughter continue to run wild, then? Chasing ghosts and nearly killing herself at every turn?”

A muscle in his jaw pops as his brow lowers. I gulp at the dark promise in his eyes, but Momma meets that gaze head on. “Aria is a capable and remarkable warrior. She loves this city and will defend it with her life. A quality I find lacking in many, including some of the men-at-arms.”

“And what about children, hmm?”

“Momma!” I hiss, trying to find a pot to hide beneath and die.

Silver gives an easy smile and leans against the side of the graying barn, but the lines of his muscles are taught and his eyes sparkle, not with mischief, but with an intelligent cunning that nearly makes me pee my pants. I need out of this situation. Now.

“Children are the King’s blessing when the time is right, but your daughter deserves to be cherished, not for her child-rearing capabilities—which are daunting and treasured enough on their own, I assure you—but for her ability to look death in the eye and overcome it. To face monsters and not freeze in fear. To see the good in life and be a light when darkness festers.” He glances over at me, his eyes darkening to an almost blue hue that watch me with an intensity I am unsure I can bear but I sure as heck can’t look away from. “I tried, once, to prevent her from being the beautiful soul she is. I endeavor never to do it again. She deserves freedom and all it entails, even should it not be what we desire. There is a time for all things, Madame, but the time for taming a free and beautiful spirit will not come while I am here.”

I think I left my jaw hanging back with the dahlias. His eyes promise me that he is doing all that is in his power not to repeat the mistakes of the past… and that, more than anything, melts my heart and I feel like butter left a little too long in front of the fire. I just got burned, but somehow… I don’t care a single wit as warmth flows through my veins and a giddy sense of joy bubbles in my soul.

And more than anything else… I see how he has changed. It’s not just his words, but the actions which follow. He shows by his actions, by his support, and by holding me when I cannot continue… he shows that he will be there, not to prevent my actions, but to support me through them.

And that, more than anything else, even beyond his handsome jawline and eyes that melt my insides like flame and the toupee that makes my Bond laugh, is what makes me love him all the more.

And I am finally coming to realize that yes, I do love him. The way his eyebrow quirks and his lips purse when I say I’m fine. The way he always finds me when I’m in need and somehow manages to make life a little brighter with his dry and somewhat bland humor. The way his eyes soften and lips tip up in a smile when he holds me. And how he lets me see through the mask he places for others to the man beneath. The man who cares deeply for a this city and her people, nearly too much to the point it drives him insane, bearing responsibilities beyond his age.

He understands. I’ve seen the pain in his eyes for this city and her people. It’s the same thing I feel: the brokenness, the sorrow, and the all-encompassing hope for something, someday, to be better.

And in his eyes, I fall into a bottomless hole where our souls intertwine, and for the first time, I feel past the walls he always erects to his soul.

And what I see there is both surprising and confirming of who he is.

And it makes me love him all the more.

The bastard.

His lips twitch as if he heard the thought, and then his eyes finally release me and I can breathe again.

Momma’s posture softens. She walks up to Silver, and because he is a tall bastard, she comes nearly to his chin while I only come to his chest. Her gaze darts back and forth between his eyes, searching for something. He meets her gaze calmly, his passive mask back in place but something in his eyes I can’t define. Almost… fear? Terror? Frantic almost hope?

Momma lifts up a hand, gently patting his cheek, and he flinches. Her face warms, and she gives him a gentle smile. “You’ve been through as much as my little girl, haven’t you?” she asks softly, almost to herself. She whispers something too low for me to hear, turns to wink at me, then walks back through the overgrown hedges.

I stare after her, a bit shocked. What was that?

She’s a momma bear. She’d do anything to protect you, including running off perspective mates if they didn’t match her vision for you, Ran says.

I turn to Silver, eyes narrowing when I see an almost dopey smile on his face. I have never before seen such an expression and I doubt I ever will again. “What did she say to you?” I ask suspiciously, the warmth in my veins slowly replaced by cold. What in the worlds just happened?

“Nothing to be concerned about, Mau Tigris. I’ll see you tonight.”

“Don't you dare—and… he’s gone. Of all the… gah!”