The Price of Ransom

"This is where I come when I need to get away," Beoulve said. He had brought Cecilia here to show her where he came. He wanted to let her in, but didn't want to throw it all on her. He wanted to be open with her. He smiled as he took her hand and lead her in.

"It was a sort of shrine built by my ancestors for worship to the old gods. Now I use it as an escape when I need to think," Beoulve said. He sat down on the lounge facing the window. It was thickly padded, and amazingly comfortable.

He smiled and pulled Cecilia down with him. He pulled her against him, then faced the sun, letting them watch the sun set together. He wanted to keep this moment forever, but he couldn't. So instead, he wanted them to both have this memory.

Cecilia's heart was touched that the man she loved trusted her enough to open up and show her his secret place. She knew her feelings for him grew every day, but that moment would be branded on her heart as the moment when she realized she would die for him in need be.

Cecilia cuddled up to her Prince, holding his hand and playing with it as they both watched the sun set in silence. Once it was almost fully dark, Cecilia held Beoulve even more, tightening her grip on him, her head still resting on his strong shoulder. She looked up, towards him, and pressed her lips to his.

Her full lips kissed his, sending a warm shiver through her body. She did not know how or why, but she felt that if she had Beoulve's kiss, she could do without everything else in the world. While she was in Beoulve's arms, the World could crumble and fall apart and she wouldn't care. She showed him her need through her kiss, she assured him she wanted and accepted him as a whole.

"Beoulve," She finally whispered, "Please do not think me too forward, do not think me indecorous for kissing you instead of waiting to be kissed like a lady should. If I am forward, if I cross lines, if I ruin conventions of propriety, it is because your kiss makes me feel like anything is possible, because your nearness fills my heart."

Beoulve smiled as Cecilia played with his hands. He held her closer as the sun set. The temperature slowly dropped, and he didn't want Cecilia getting cold. He pulled her tighter, wanting her to be as close as possible.

When Cecilia kissed him, his whole body felt like it had been lit on fire. He felt like the passion and love he had had just exploded with that kiss. He wasn't just kissing her anymore, he was feeling what she felt finally. He understood her feelings now.

Beoulve kissed Cecilia back, wanting to never let her go. Her full lips felt amazing on his. He wrapped his arms around her, wanting the kiss to go on. When it broke, he felt sad, but waited. As Cecilia started to talk, he just held a finger to her lips gently.

"Shhh, love. You didn't ruin anything, nor was it indecorous. It showed me exactly how you feel about me. I need to show you something," Beoulve said, kissing Cecilia softly. He pulled the letter from her parents to him from his pocket. He handed her the letter, letting her read what he asked them.

He didn't want to seem forward, but he had to know what she thought. He had to know if there was going to be a future with Cecilia.

Cecilia's heart skipped a beat when Beoulve called her "love". She had longed to hear that word from his lips for what had seemed like an eternity. Cecilia got up, feeling her body cool from being far from Beoulve's embrace and her soul cooler still.

She searched for an oil lamp and lit it, bringing it closer to them so that she could read what Beoulve was handing her. She nestled against his chest again, the distance unbearable. She was surprised to see her Father's own signature at the bottom of the page, as well as her Mother's. The mention of Lady Cordelia's name meant that her friend had written her parents and Cecilia made a mental note to ask her what she had said.

Cecilia read the letter several times before the meaning of the words sunk in. Was this Beoulve's way of letting her know marriage was on his mind? Cecilia sighed, there were easier ways of letting her know about his feelings.

"I love you, Beoulve." Was all Cecilia could say for a moment. Could she commit? What if they did not go well together as a couple? Would it really be a good union for both her and her Kingdom?

Cecilia decided that yes, she could commit, this wasn't a fleeting passion; Cecilia recalled that they had shared the same space for a month when she had been brought to the Palace; Cecilia read again her parents' wishes of uniting both realms. She straightened up on her seating and turned towards the Prince. She held his face in her hands, her thumb gently caressing his cheek. She wanted him to feel cherished, wanted. Letting out a tear of happiness, she smiled at the man before her, forgetting for a moment he was a Prince and she was a Princess - they were just Beoulve and Cecilia, man and maiden. Cecilia gently kissed the start of Beoulve's scar, right below his left eye. It was a sign of her acceptance, of her love for the man, the warrior, the Prince, all that he was.

"If you love me in the same way that I love you, my beloved Prince, then know I will stand by your side until my dying day. If you are sure of your feelings as I am sure of mine, my love, then know the future will only bring us closer and closer. I am yours, and will forever be, as long as you want me. Do you really want me? Do you really mean it, Beoulve? Will you not regret it? I will never break your heart if you trust it to me, please do not break mine as I am trusting it to you."

Beoulve watched as Cecilia read the letter. He watched the different reactions spread across her face, from surprise to curiosity. He looked at her after reading and smiled slightly. "Is everything okay?" he asked.

When she said she loved him, she caught him completely by surprise. He looked down at her and hugged her close. "I love you too, Cecilia," he whispered, then stopped, letting her go on. He could tell she had more to say.

He felt her kissing his scar and shivered. No one had ever done that. He couldn't begin to tell her how much it meant to him. His scars had always set him apart, and she was embracing that part of him. It showed just how much she thought of him.

As he listened to Cecilia, he smiled. "I will never hurt you. I do love you the same way you love me. Let's take this slowly though. We have a public appearance as royals, but also to just enjoy the time we have with each other," he said, thinking about how much he wanted to enjoy that time. He knew that once they were married, things could get a slight bit more hectic for a little while, and wanted to be able to have as much time with her as she could.

"Now that I am in your embrace, everything else can wait. Besides, announcing our betrothal now would steal attention away from Lady Cordelia's wedding and I wish no such thing. She is to be wed in two months time, anyway." Cecilia agreed.

She unclasped her cloak and let it fall, the proceeded to unclasp his. Cecilia cuddled up to Beoulve, both their bodies close and warm beneath only one cloak. They whispered words of affection and of comfort, watching the horizon go darker and darker. Cecilia felt so safe with her face pressed to Beoulve's broad, strong chest that she didn't even think how they were going to get back to the Palace in the dark.

Cecilia was warm, safe and content in her beloved's arms and fell asleep. There was nowhere else in the world that she would rather be. She woke up just before dawn, when it was the darkest, with the beginning of a thunderstorm. She was lying down on the lounge they were sitting at when they professed their love for one another. She looked around in the dark, trying to see or sense Beoulve but she didn't find him. Cecilia called his name, but did not hear an answer.

Beoulve smiled at Cecilia's words. It was true that he didn't want to detract from Cordelia's wedding. He was also not ready to propose to her. He had asked her parents, and they had told him to wait for a reply. So he would wait.

He snuggled close to Cecilia as she wrapped his cloak around them. He tried to hold her as close as he could, and keep her warm. The cloak helped keep them warm, and Beoulve felt as Cecilia fell asleep on him. He smiled that she felt so safe with him.

When the thunderstorm started, Beoulve gently slipped out from under Cecilia, not wanting to leave her. He went to close the windows in the little cottage, making sure the rain didn't get in, nor the wind howl too loud. He heard Cecilia calling for him in the dark, and immediately rushed towards her.

"I'm right here, love," Beoulve said, sliding behind her as she sat up, gently holding her.

"Oh, Beoulve, for a moment I thought... I thought you had left. I was so scared!" Cecilia said, glad and relieved that her beloved way by her side once again.

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Dawn came and Lady Cordelia rose from her bed. With the help of her maid, she dressed and covered her head to go to Mass. She knocked on Lady Cecilia's door as she often did, so that they could go to the Palace's chapel together. Lady Cecilia's maid answered the door, nervous and confused, saying her Ladyship hadn't slept in her bed and that her riding boots were gone. Cordelia rushed to her brother's traing quarters, the one place Beoulve could be found in the early hours. Cecilia could have left, though highly unlikely, or she could have been taken. The causes for the attack she almost had suffered still unknown. His personal servant told her his Lordship had been away for the night, his saddle gone as well. Cordelia sighed, relieved, understanding that they had been together all night. Lady Cordelia walked calmy to Mass, though she was late. Not even the Bishop would dare start Mass without her presence and a Lady never ran. Ever.

-----

"Do you think we were missed?" Cecilia asked carelessly as she and her Prince rode back to the Palace. Cecilia missed Mass and they had broken their fast with fruit from the orchard. They rode slowly, trying to postpone their daily lives. Once they reached the stables, they saw Lady Cordelia waiting for them, a bright, happy smile on her young, beautiful face. Cecilia squeezed Beoulve's hand as a promise that they would be together again soon.

The two Princesses walked away, Cecilia eager to tell her friend what had happened and ask Cordelia the contents of her letter to King Rengor and Queen Eleanor.

Beoulve smiled and watched as Cordelia and Cecilia went to talk. He knew that things could get a bit more hectic, but wasn't overly concerned. He was happy, and honestly, nothing could really bother him.

He Saw Carock watching the two women, and then looked at him. "Well, it appears I'm not the only one to be courting a princess," he said, smiling.

Beoulve shook his head and then smiled. "I love her," he said, looking at Carock.

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Cordelia could see the glow coming from her friend's face. When Cecilia asked about the letter she had sent, she smiled.

"I just told them what I had observed of you and my brother. I know him better than anyone, and the way you two interacted, I thought I should tell your parents. They seemed both thrilled and anxious at the news. They have heard of my brother's reputation with the sword and pen, and hoped his heart would be higher than those. I also wanted to prepare them for your letter, and his letter. It seemed to work," Cordelia said, smiling.

She took Cecilia's hand and they went to her room. They spent the rest of the afternoon talking, until Cordelia looked at Cecilia with a gleam in her eye.

"I want to do something for my brother and you both. Would you allow me this courtesy?" she asked as she moved behind Cecilia and started braiding her hair with the ribbon she had received from her brother. Cecilia would end up recognizing it as the same braid Beoulve wore, down to where the ribbon was placed.

"How could I deny you something, my dearest friend?" Cecilia answered, curious. She felt Cordelia braiding her hair and shift slightly so that she could see herself. Cecilia's hair was long and strong, with soft, gentle waves, so it took Cordelia a little while to braid it all. Meanwhile, Cecilia planned what she would write to her parents.

"Dear Mother, Dear Father,

Firstly I thank you for sending me my Bible along with some of my other possessions. Thank you for seeing to my comfort and happiness even when we must be apart. I think of you every day, I think of our Castle, of our lands, of our Country I love so much.

Prince Beoulve has shown me your letter to him and asked to court me. I have accepted. I wanted nothing more than to be a part of his life. Prince Beoulve has taken my heart, has conquered my love and earned my devotion. I feel happy, cherished and safe with him, he is my safe harbor, he is the reason for my smile. I pray that God will let me spend my life with him in a blessed union.

I thank you, Mother and Father, for letting me choose the man to share a life with, and I choose Beoulve. I have never wanted anything or anyone like I want him; the love I feel for him surpasses what I ever thought possible.

I trust that you have received and accepted the invitation to Lady Cordelia's wedding in two months. I look forward to seeing you, I miss you dearly.

Your only daughter,

Cecilia of Rengor."

Beoulve tried to keep himself busy while Cordelia and Cecilia were occupied. It just didn't happen as easily as Beoulve would have liked. Finally, he went to train. He knew it would take his mind off of things, letting him relax from not being in control as much. The one way he was still in control was of his bodily facilities, which he tried to hone with weapons and weights. It also let Beoulve have a valve to let off some of the excess energy from spending so much time with Cecilia.

She recharged him, so it would seem, and he couldn't get enough of her presence. He wondered what her mother and father would say at his sisters wedding. He knew that they would have their ransom by then, and dreaded the thought of losing Cecilia.

Beoulve finally bathed and then made his way back to his office. He realized that Cecilia had been at his palace for close to 4 months. Time had flown since she had arrived, but after that first month, things between Cecilia and Beoulve went much more smoothly. They had finally opened up, and they were now falling for each other. It made Beoulve smile. He was lucky to have such an amazing woman steal his heart. He knew without a doubt that he would do everything within his power to keep her safe.

Beoulve was drawn from his reverie by a knock on his study door. He looked outside and was surprised by the time. He smiled and then called, "Enter."

Cecilia thanked Cordelia for having braided her hair just a Beoulve's and then left the bride to be to her plans. Cecilia went back to her room, armed with parchment and black ink to write the letter to her parents in her beautiful, richly flourished and embellished handwriting.

While she wrote the letter, a task that took quite a while, she couldn't stop thinking about her Prince. His eyes, his arms, his warmth... the memory of his kisses made her blush and the way he looked at her made her heart skip a beat every time he appeared on her daydreams.

It was right before dinner when Lady Cecilia finished her letter and she decided to show it to Beoulve. They were together now, and secrets did not have a place between them. She wanted to be open about everything, she wanted to hide nothing. She went to his study and knocked on the door, the sound of his voice always bringing sheer joy to her being.

"My love, do I interrupt?" She looked at Beoulve's smile and deduced that if she was interrupting, she was a welcomed distraction. Cecilia walked to her Prince and sat on his lap. Perhaps a bold move for her, but his love made her more sure of herself, his attention made her more comfortable with being who she wanted to be.

Cecilia placed the letter open in front of Beoulve, giving him time to read it. When he finished, Lady Cecilia folded the letter in three and took the red sealing wax that was on Beoulve's desk, along with the lit candle to melt the sealing wax. She deposited two little pools of wax next to one another and retrieved her metal stamp that carried her monogram which her parents had sent her. Cecilia quickly pressed her seal on one of the red wax pools. She waited to see if Beoulve would take his own stamp and press it to the second pool of wax, as a sign of agreement to her decision and her words. She hoped that he would, but if he wouldn't, the letter would be sent to her parents anyway. She loved him and wanted him forever and her parents should know.

Beoulve smiled as he saw his love walk into the room. When she sat down on his lap, he just wrapped an arm around her casually. Now that they were officially courting, he didn't have to worry about rumors. They would be started anyways, and he just got to relax. Also, due to his incumbency for the throne, the rumors would die down quickly. As royals, both were expected to uphold a public image, but no image was better than two people who were truly falling deeper in love. Beoulve smiled, knowing that he was just that, falling deeper in love with Cecilia.

"My darling, the letter is perfect. If it wasn't over presumptuous, I would have you sign my name there as well, but I think that would cross a line," he jokingly said. He held Cecilia to him more tightly. Now that he had her, he didn't want to let his love go. She was more calming than he remembered, settling his nerves and his energy.

Beoulve smiled and pressed his personal seal into the second blot of wax, effectively readying the letter. He called for a servant, sending the letter off. He looked at Cecilia, saw her blushing, and smiled. Right as she seemed about to speak, he leaned in and kissed her passionately before pulling back and looking into her eyes. His eyes smoldered softly as he whispered, "I love you."

Cecilia wanted to burst with happiness with Beoulve's words and approval, but, instead, blushed crimson when a servant entered the room to fetch the letter.

Beoulve's lips were on hers, in a very passionate kiss. She hadn't kissed Beoulve in a few hours and the longing in her heart was already to big to bear. She kissed back, pouring her heart and all her feelings into that kiss - love, passion, understanding, friendship and, yes, even desire.

"I love you, too, my Prince." There was so much Cecilia wanted to tell him, so much she wanted to ask and share. They would have a lifetime together, but the urgency of their youth made everything seem a pressing matter. "My parents will likely only give you their answer when they come for Cordelia's wedding, but rest assured that since I told them I love you, they will give us their blessing."

Cecilia stood, sorry to have to leave Beoulve's lap, and took his hand, gently pulling him to get up. It was time for supper and she wanted to make sure her beloved was well fed.

Beoulve smiled and let Cecilia pull him along after her. He had her hand throughout, so he was happy. He knew she was taking him to supper, and was happy to finally share an actual meal with her, instead of hiding in a large chair. He found a servan along the way to tell them what was for supper. Apparently it was a large roast with the trimmings, fruit, and a spring salad. He smiled, as it was one of his favorite meals.

He looked at Cecilia, then stopped her. He knew there would be servants in the dining room, as well as Cordelia and Carock. He hadn't eaten with them to give them privacy, but now he was happy to join them. He looked at Cecilia then smiled at her. "Will you let me feed you?" He asked, a reason edge in his voice. He knew it would make her laugh and relax, which was what he wanted.

"My love, I would let you do anything." Cecilia said, blushing scarlet as soon as she realized that that sentence could be taken the wrong way. "I mean... you know..." She mumbled.

They entered the dining hall together, hand in hand and exchanged looks with the other couple. Two young, very happy couples who were very much in love in one single room seemed to gather all the joy in the world. The room reverberated with laughter and conversation.

Beoulve and Cecilia broke protocol. Now that he was courting her, they should not sit very close to one another, least there would be a cause for gossip. However, they pushed their chairs as close as they could, and sat legs touching and arms brushing every time they moved.

Beoulve smiled and then dropped the bomb. "Cecilia. There is no protocol for courtship in this country. Cordelia explained it to your parents when she sent a letter. I know because all letters went through my office. She had me read it first, and I agreed with it. I wanted your parents to know what courting meant in our country, so that they would feel like you were still safe. There won't be any rumors from how we act. As long as we love each other and intend to marry, no one will say anything," Beoulve said, smiling at her.

Cordelia nodded her agreement, then added, "I'm sorry I didn't tell you, dear friend, but Beoulve asked for that courtesy. He had Carock and I act like courtship in your country to put you at ease while being a chaperone. Now that you know, please don't be afraid to break protocols for your country here."

Beoulve smiled and openly took Cecilia's hand, in front of Cordelia and Carock, as well as the staff. Nothing was said, and it wasn't made a big deal of. Most importantly, Beoulve was at ease holding her hand, and it showed. The tension relaxed in his shoulders, and it seemed as if his problems were just melting away. No longer was he worried about how she would react. She knew his country's guidelines on courtship now, and he was hoping that she would approve of them. This did not mean a couple could be indiscreet, but as long as discretion was used, the country trusted those in courtship to do the right thing.

Lady Cecilia was taken by surprise at the announcement. She looked from Beoulve to Cordelia, to Beoulve again and the to Lady Cordelia and General Carock. "I should resent that.... But I don't. I thank you for trying your best to make me at ease, it really shows this family cares about me and I am touched." She said. Cecilia felt loved among them and, though once a prisoner, she felt more and more like one of them. It would still take her a little while to be comfortable with the way things were here in Cragmore but if this meant she could be closer to Beoulve, then she was all for it.

The two couples dined and chatted until it was very late. The two Princesses said goodnight and went to their rooms. They needed to sleep, they would be going through a lot of the wedding details the next day.

Lady Cecilia went to her bed, still filled with love and warmth for having spent so many hours near her beloved and drift of to sleep. A couple of hours later, Cecilia woke up screaming and shaking, having had the most terrible dream she ever remembered. Quickly and without thinking, she took her shawl and ran through the castle, barefoot, going through the wings of the silent, cold, lonely Palace until she reached Beoulve's quarters. She knocked, she needed to see him, she needed to touch him. In her dream, Beoulve was dead and she was lost and abandoned without his love. She needed to make sure he was alive and well, she could not bear the thought of losing him and was too scared to think clearly that it had only been a bad dream.

Beoulve was awakened by a loud knocking noise in the middle of the night. He flew to the door, thinking an emergency had happened. He opened it to see a terrified Cecilia in her shawl standing before him. She was shaking and it was easy to see that she had just run across the palace. He ushered her into his room, quickly listening to the servant that was following right behind her. He had guessed it was a nightmare, but his suspicions were confirmed when the servant said of Cecilia screaming out that Beoulve couldn't die, and then waking up and quickly running to his room.

Beoulve nodded and then closed the door. He made his way to Cecilia, pulling her down into the bed with him. He just held her, gently stroking her hair and rubbing her back. He could feel her arms holding him tightly, making sure this was real. He just held her, wanting her to know that he was there for her, and would never leave her. It would take more than death to stop him, and he didn't plan on dying until he had at least seen his great-grandchildren. He pulled the covers up over them, gently rocking Cecilia to sleep as he hummed softly. He didn't know when they fell asleep, but he knew that Cecilia must have felt more relaxed listening to his heartbeat.

Everything was in a haze except Beoulve's presence. Cecilia had a vague memory of running, hearing footsteps behind her and her name being called. She remembered voices talking but the only clear memory was of Beoulve's presence and his embrace. Cecilia felt him lead her to bed and holding her while he stroked her hair. She held on to him, perhaps with too much strength and even hurting him, but was not very strong and no physical ache she could cause him could compare to the extreme pain she felt in her soul every time she recalled the horrid dream.

Beoulve's embrace, his body, his scent, his closeness, his beating heart had calmed her and lulled her to sleep. There was no better feeling than to be in her beloved's arms and there was no place she would rather be. He had not abandoned her after all.

Lady Cecilia woke up in the morning, the warm and bright early Fall sun warming her body through the window. She was glad to see Beoulve by her side. It was only then that she realized that she had shared a bed with a man while she was still unmarried. There might not be a rigid courting protocol of courtship in this country, but surely a maiden's honor, or, at least, the presumption of her virginity, must still hold some value. Cecilia, lost in her thoughts, looked around. Beoulve's room was very big, decorated with right, dark velvet. A fireplace with a big, warm, roaring fire was to their right, as opposed to the huge window, to their left. The rest of the room was simple, something so uncharacteristic of a Prince's chambers in one's imaginary.

To her right, Beoulve still slept, his face relaxed and an air of peace about him. In his sleep, Beoulve seemed younger, he still seemed every inch the Prince, with his handsome features and chiseled jaw, but he did not seem tired and worried about the duties that a future King has. And yet, Cecilia knew it was late and that Beoulve must want to go about his day, his meditation, his training. Cecilia gently kissed Beoulve's cheek and then his lips, trying her best to wake him up slowly and delicately. It was the least she could do for him after last night's drama.

Beoulve slowly came awake feeling lips on his. They were soft, warm, and very caressing. He slowly opened his eyes, seeing Cecilia's face, her eyes closed, her lips pressed to his. Beoulve gently wrapped his arms around her and kissed her back, keeping it gentle, loving. He finally broke the kiss and looked at her. "Are you feeling better after last night? Your servant followed you and explained everything, but I want to make sure myself," Beoulve said.

He looked around, then down. He blushed a deep scarlet realizing he was sleeping in a light pair of pants. He stood up quickly and walked towards his closet, trying to find a shirt. He forgot about the scars on his back until it was too late. The young Prince had been captured by an enemy state and whipped for being part of the Cragmore royal family. The scars were still visible, even in the low light.

Beoulve quickly pulled a light jerkin on and looked at Cecilia, trying to gauge her reaction. She had seen the worst of it all now, and he wasn't sure how she'd react to seeing the scars his life had brought him. He steeled himself and then approached, before sitting next to her. "Well?" he asked softly, wanting to know her thoughts.

It took Cecilia a moment to understand why Beoulve had gotten up from her side. He was bare chested, but it did not bother her. As she looked to where he was going after he spoke, she saw his scars. She saw them and they broke her heart in a million pieces. They did not look like scars from a battle, but from torture. They were deep and, though they did not look recent, they must still hurt. If not in his flesh, then in his pride. Who would do such a thing to such a good man? Cecilia had never wished anyone dead, but she wished dead who ever had made Beoulve suffer like that.

Cecilia centered herself before Beoulve turned around and looked at the window. It was best to pretend she hadn't seen them for now. One day, though, possibly after they were married, Cecilia would caress Beoulve's back and kiss each one of those scars like she had began to kiss the scars on his face. She would make sure he understood she loved him, scars and all. He was a handsome man, but even if he were not, she would still love him because as much as she loved to look at him, she loved the man inside more, so much more.

Cecilia opened her arms when she saw he had turned around. She wanted to hug as he sat by her side. Not a selfish hug this time, not a hug because she needed him like she needed air, but a hug to ease the pain his soul must carry. He just did not have to know about that. "I don't remember, I only remember I dreamt that you were dead. And I was scared, scared that it was true. So I had to come and see you. I'm so sorry I woke you up in the middle of the night, you must think me childish and selfish, but I wouldn't rest until I saw with my own eyes it had indeed been just a bad dream." She said, the side of her face pressed lightly against his chest. She looked up and smiled, "But I will go now, my love." She said, getting up slowly and reaching for her shawl to cover up what her almost sheer nightgown let guess.

Beoulve smiled as Cecilia wrapped her arms around him. He let her hold him, not just because she needed it, but because he needed her arms around him. He knew she had seen scars. The pain was still there, locked away. The men who had given him those scars had died slowly. He had made sure they felt his pain, before finally ending their lives. It hadn't brought peace to his heart, but it had brought a sense of closure, and knowing slavers would never mark another human as such.

Beoulve shook when Cecilia said she would leave. He didn't want her to go, but knew it was best if she got dressed. He had no clothes for her, and knew that if anyone from court saw her like this, rumors about her maiden virtues would spread. He didn't want her to feel uncomfortable, so called for her servant to bring clothes. When she arrived, Beoulve turned to Cecilia. "My private bath is just beyond that door. It would be very easy to say that you had stopped by for business, and to tell me that something was wrong with your bathing chambers. Use mine and get dressed. That way you won't have to worry," Beoulve said, his tone carrying with it a sense of finality.

Beoulve smiled as he grabbed his padded jerkin and pulled it on. He kissed Cecilia softly and lovingly before heading to train, and leaving her in privacy. No one would ask why Cecilia was in Beoulve's private quarters, seeing as he had told her to find him if there was any need. She hadn't learned the layout of the castle just yet, so didn't know where he trained. His room was the most logical place to go. He whistled as he walked down the secret flight of stairs he had, arriving in his training room and beginning his day with a smile.

"Yes, Sir." Cecilia said, as Beoulve ordered her to use his bathing chambers. She said it with a smile, it had been years since someone had ordered her anything. She knew he was protecting her, even if it was just from gossip and did as she was told.

Leaving Beoulve's room and entering into the main corridor, Cecilia bumped into Lady Cordelia, who raised an eyebrow at her, seeing her coming from Beoulve's wing of the Palace in the morning, having missed Mass and breakfast the second day in a a row and her hair all disheveled.

Cecilia took Cordelia's hand and pulled her towards Cordelia's sitting room saying "Come. I need to talk, it's important.". They needed privacy, it was an important conversation.

"My dear Cordelia, this is not what you think it is. I went to your brother's room because... well... I.... " Cecilia might as well tell Cordelia the truth. If she could not trust her best friend, then who should she trust? Cecilia told her about her dream, the way Beoulve had cared for her and kept her safe right down to helping to avoid gossip. Cecilia also asked about Beoulve's scars and cried as Cordelia told her the story of how those scars came to be. In that moment, Cecilia found out that there is no greater pain than to know the person one loves has been hurt.

"My brother was captured when he was 14. The band that captured him had a slaver with them. They knew he was a royal from his pendant. When it was revealed Beoulve was of House Cragmore, they whipped him mercilessly, covering his back in the scars you saw. From the reports that came from the other prisoners, he did not so much as utter a word. He just stared resolutely ahead. That night, through crippling pain, he killed the slaver and the other members of the band. He was able to free the slaves before collapsing. Unfortunately, their healers weren't skilled enough to remove the scars. Beoulve is very conscious of them, so please be cognizant of that. It's why I gave him that braid. It allows him to hide most of the scar on his face. You have seen it, and embrace him, so maybe you can help him overcome the wounds his spirit suffer from still," Cordelia said. She knew her brother, sometimes better than he did. He also knew that Cecilia was the first woman Beoulve ever fell for. Cordelia could see it plainly, and knew that Cecilia might be the girl to make Beoulve whole. Not just by himself, but together. She smiled at the thought.

The women proceeded to head down to the great hall to break fast with a light lunch.

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Beoulve tore through his training, breaking his practice weapons for the first time in two years. He was angry for revealing his weakness. He knew Cecilia loved him, and probably would even after seeing his damning scars. They showed that he was still weak, even as a Prince. He couldn't even protect himself at the time. He punched a bag, tearing a seam, watching the sand pour out of it.

Beoulve finally steadied himself, then sat in the middle of the room. He focused on his breathing and cleared his thoughts. He needed to make peace with these inner demons, but didn't know how he would be able to. He calmed his breathing, steadying his heartbeat. He was finally back under control, in balance. He stood up slowly, exhaling. He smiled and then toweled down. He started walking towards the dining hall.

He was aware of the stares, and several gasps from behind him. It started chipping away at his insides, and he sped up. He had to try something to fight these demons. He finally reached the feast hall. He entered, and the pain showed through to Cecilia and Cordelia before his stoic mask appeared. He wiped himself down once more and then slipped his jerkin on.

As he sat down, Beoulve realized his hands were shaking. He took a deep breath and slowly reached for Cecilia's hand, the tremors evident. Once he had her hand, he was finally able to relax, his tremors stopping completely. A genuinely happy smile split his face as he took a deep breath and quietly whispered, "Better now" under his breath.