Mina laid restless in her cot for the remainder of the night. She was supposed to be gone by now. That was the plan. Yet here she was, having made no personal progress or gain after all that trouble. The dawn came sooner than she wanted, and it took all her willpower to force herself to get up again. She was too tired to even respond to Sophie's teasing and quizzical comments about her haggard appearance and unpleasant smell.

Back in Magnus's room, he offered to let her take a hot bath in his tub. She hesitated at first since there was only a simple curtain blocking the entrance of his bathroom, but she already knew that she had nothing to be worried about. He wouldn't try anything, and if he did, she'd make sure to make him regret it. Besides, when else would she have the opportunity to experience this?

She took her time there, scrubbing every inch of herself, thoroughly washing her hair for the first time in months, and even picking the dirt out from under her fingernails. Eventually, the water grew cold, but she didn't mind since that was the kind of bath water she was used to anyway. When she was finally satisfied, she pulled the drain and stepped out to dry off.

The mirrors were covered again, something she noticed he always did whenever he took a bath. It was hard for her to fathom how anyone could hate their own body that much, but she figured that whatever the king had done to his own son was bad enough to warrant that. Part of her wondered if he'd ever tell her or show her, but she knew better than to ask. It was already a struggle for him to be seen without his precious gloves, but she noticed he seemed to wear them less and less around her. Maybe he would let her see one day, when he was ready. She shook her head. That day would likely never come.

Taking down one of the sheets, she examined her own reflection in the mirror. It was by no means an appealing sight. The arrow scar at her shoulder remained as prominent as ever, and the left side of her torso boasted burn marks from when an especially vile patron had splashed hot tea on her as if she wasn't humiliated enough. The rest of her body was littered with fading lines of cuts and scrapes from all the fights she had gotten into. Her hair was uneven from her anxious pulling, and her hands were rough and calloused from years of carpentry and hardship. She had long given up hope that anyone would look at her and still find her attractive, but she didn't need that. If anything, she figured it was better if no man ever wanted her at all. Plus, physical scars aside, someone as broken as her would just be a burden anyway. She couldn't imagine anyone wanting a girl who never smiled and who responded with crassness instead of tenderness like a proper lady should.

A knock just outside the entrance caused her to freeze in place, and she hastily wrapped the towel around herself.

"Hey, Mina?" Magnus called. "I got you some clean clothes, and I'm going to leave it just outside for you, alright?"

She relaxed. "That's fine, thank you."

Magnus backed away and a few moments later, he saw her hand poke out and scoop up the clothing before disappearing behind the curtain again. Smiling a little to himself, he settled back at his desk and returned to his sketch.

He never really let anyone call him by his name besides Sylvan. Hell, he'd never been outside the castle walls since he was young, never fought someone outside of sparring, and never disobeyed his father so openly and gotten away with it. And because of what? Because of her. She was a whirlwind in his life, picking him up and whisking him away from his stagnant, comfortable norm and pushing him to do and be something more.

He sighed, looking down at his drawing of her. His pencil traced the curve of her lips, forming her trademark frown. Did she know what she was doing to him?

He turned at the sound of the curtain being pulled aside, and he smiled when her eyes met his. "Good?"

She nodded, running a hand through her wet hair. "Thank you."

"Of course." He slipped the sketch of her into one of his desk drawers, planning to show her once he finished. "Did you sleep well?"
She shrugged, settling down on one of his couches. "Not really. You?"

"Probably got at least 3 hours," he replied, propping his head up with his hand. "But it was worth it. Thank you again."

She traced a finger idly against the velvet cushions. "See? I have good ideas. You should listen to me more."

"I know. You're the best thing that's happened to me in a while, Mina."

She felt the heat rise to her face against her will. "I wouldn't say that."

"I would if it's true," he tilted his head. "Although it seems that nothing I say will ever really convince you that you matter to me."

Her breath hitched in her throat. "It just seems so impossible."

"Why?"

"Well, consider this," she described, holding her hands far apart. "Here on one end of the 'comfortable life scale' we have me, a peasant woman. And here on the other side, we have you, a royal man. We couldn't be more different."

"And yet, you're one of the only people who I feel really knows and understands me."

She shook her head. "Seems easy enough. You're Prince Magnus Arcturus Jove Dufort of Cordia, heir to the throne. You like to paint and draw and read. You like hearty soups and chocolate. You know how to fight, and you're well versed in the kingdom's history. You're not allowed out of the castle walls, so you trust a troublemaker maid to help you."

He laughed a little. "No one else knows that last part, but yes. You already know about my family situation and my mother, and hardly anyone knows that. And I've let you see parts of me that I keep hidden from most." He looked down at his hands. "But you don't flinch when you see me."

She kept her gaze fixed on him. "You shouldn't feel ashamed of that, you know. I don't think anything I can say will be able to convince you otherwise, but maybe...maybe if I repeat it enough times, you'll start to realize it's true."

He looked back up at her, an appreciative smile on his face. "There. Exactly why I say you're the best thing to have happened to me in a while. Maybe if I repeat that enough, you'll believe me one day too."

She twisted a strand of hair around her finger. "Maybe..."

"Maybe that'll also be the day I'll finally get you to smile."

She scoffed a little. "Is that a goal of yours?"
He shrugged sheepishly. "Somewhat."

"Well...you've come close," she admitted, still picking at her hair.

"Really?"
She shot him a look. "But don't get cocky now. It's no easy task."

"Challenge accepted, then."

She rolled her eyes, but she could already feel her guard slipping and she knew he noticed.

"If I may ask, why don't you smile?" A heavy silence filled the room as soon as the words left his mouth, and he immediately noticed how her posture stiffened as her eyes directed away to the window. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to," he added.

"But you want to know."

"It doesn't matter what I want. It matters what you're comfortable with sharing."

She glanced back at him, feeling strands of hair come loose in her hand. It was because of Kirian, but she couldn't tell him that. Or could she, continuing with the half truths and incomplete stories she had been sharing with him so far?

"I...lost my best friend years ago," she finally admitted. "He was murdered."

Magnus's face fell. "I'm so sorry."

She pulled more strands of hair out, but she continued. "After that, it felt like all the joy was sucked out of my life and I became just a shell of a person, existing and going through the motions but not really living. And I've been like that ever since."

"What was his name?" Magnus asked softly.

She hesitated. Would he remember? "Kirian," she managed to croak out.

"Kirian." he repeated, almost reverently. She searched his expression for any sign of recognition, and she thought she caught a flicker in his gaze, but it could have just been her mind playing tricks on her.

She shook her head, standing up and straightening out her dress. "There you go. Now you also know things about me that most don't. Congratulations."

He frowned, noticing how she tried to downplay her pain again. He would continue to leave the door open if she ever wanted to share more, but he would never reach in and take anything she didn't offer him.

"But there's more to you than what's happened to you," he murmured, his eyes following her as she moved to stand next to the window. "You care deeply about the people around you, and that's why it hurts so bad when you lose them. You're strong and brave and resilient, and you've survived through more than most people will ever experience."

She didn't say anything, but his words made her feel warm inside, like she was truly seen for the first time.

Magnus rose to his feet and headed to one of his wardrobes to grab a coat. "Come, let's take a walk. Have you explored the castle gardens yet?"

She glanced over her shoulder at him and shook her head.

He offered her a slight smile. "I'll show you, then. Come with me." 

*~*~*~*

A thin layer of frost had settled on most of the plants and many of the towering trees had already shed their leaves, but the gardens were no less impressive than Mina had imagined. From the perfectly trimmed archways to the flowers of every imaginable color, it seemed like they had escaped to a different world, somewhere far from Cordia and all its troubles despite being right at the heart of it. The best part for Mina was the peacefulness, such a stark contrast from the busy city streets or the crowded maids' quarters. It was just the two of them, and it felt safe, comfortable, and even serene.

"My mother used to spend much of her time out here," Magnus explained quietly, tucking his hands into his coat pockets.

"I can see why," Mina murmured, leaning in to smell a nearby rose. "Everything seems so perfect here."

"Kind of makes you forget about everything else."

As they walked along, Magnus pointed out and named each plant, especially the regional varieties that Mina had never seen before. Nivet roots could be ground up to make ink. Plathca bushes had silvery leaves with black veins and induced hallucinations when burned. Kissmires were dainty pink flowers that smelled like cake frosting.

Mina knew some plants by names different from the ones Magnus had learned from his textbooks. Stardrops, as she called them, could be brewed into tea to help with insomnia. He knew them as Axters.

"What's that one?" she asked, pointing to a caged vine with iridescent leaves that was tucked away in a corner.

To her surprise, Magnus caught her hand, keeping her from touching it. "Virethorn. It's poisonous."

Her eyes widened. "Why do you keep it in the castle gardens, then?"

Magnus frowned. "It's a weapon in its own right, so this gives us easy access to it. It's a... 'cleaner' way of getting rid of people."

Mina bit her lip. Poison was cleaner than a blade. "Does it kill instantly?"

He shook his head. "No, it takes a while, but it puts the person in excruciating pain for hours, even days, according to the records."

"If it's that dangerous, why just have it growing freely here?"

Magnus clicked his tongue. "That's because the antidote is not too far." He gestured to the roots. "The curse and cure are part of the same plant."

She stared, half in amazement, half in horror. "Has it been used recently?"

Magnus hesitated. "I wouldn't be surprised. But I've never been around to see it."

It was obvious that he didn't want to talk about it more, but Mina lingered for a moment more before following after him, her steps slow and uneven. Who would the king need to poison for? Maybe it was used as just another way to torture his victims. Mina frowned. As beautiful as the gardens were, the Virethorn served as a clear reminder of what this place really was.

Mina and Magnus paused at a large marble fountain. The water has frozen into little icicles hanging off the edge that broke off when Mina ran her finger through them. Magnus climbed up on the rim and began to balance on it.

"Careful, it's slippery," Mina cautioned.

He smiled. "Better be ready to catch me if I fall then."

She shook her head in disbelief and opted to just watch him, seeing a youthful and unburdened expression cross his face. He wasn't wearing his crown for once and he was dressed simply, just in an unembellished coat over a plain white shirt, brown trousers, and his usual tall black boots. Looking at him like this, she wondered how things might have been if they met under different circumstances. If he was just another village boy, would she have seen him differently? Looked at him without any preconceptions or prejudice? Or maybe she didn't have to wonder and muse. Maybe she could do that now.

Magnus's bright and lively eyes met hers, and for once, she didn't look away. Gracefully, he stepped off the ledge and made his way over to her, his footsteps so light it was almost as if he was floating.

"You're staring," he teased, but she kept her eyes fixed on his, her gaze softer than he'd ever seen it. Her lips parted slightly, but even she didn't know what to say or if she should say anything at all.

"Mina?" he asked tentatively. He didn't seem worried or concerned but rather puzzled and curious.

"Magnus..." she breathed, her voice coming out almost softer than a whisper. His name on her lips felt so new and yet so familiar and so right.

He smiled at the sound of his name. He raised his hand, wanting to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear, but he hesitated, knowing how she felt about being touched. To his surprise, she nodded to him, even stepping closer and raising her own hand to his face. Her fingers just barely touched the curve of his jaw. "Magnus, I..."

"Your Highness!"

She pulled away, backing off and letting her hair cover more of her face as an attendant approached.

Magnus turned to the approaching attendant, trying to stifle his disappointment and the way his heart raced from that simple moment. "Yes, Evander?"

"You're expected at a meeting with the treasury council."

Magnus's face flushed in embarrassment. "Right." He glanced at Mina who still hadn't raised her eyes to him. "I'll see you back in the room tonight?"

She nodded. "Yes, Your Highness."

Of course. He was, and he would always be the prince. Still, he thought, as he walked away and pulled on his gloves, she had never looked at him like that before, like he was something more.