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Kiora felt her cheeks flush, feeling as if she were intruding on some deeply personal moment that he never would have allowed himself to have had he known she were watching, but she couldn’t tear her eyes away. He just stood there, looking weighed down. The posture, although not familiar on him, was familiar to her. Feeling guilty for yelling, she closed her eyes scrunching her face up, dreading the inevitable. She had followed him all the way out here, but an apology was not her original intention. Reluctantly she stood and began walking quietly, closer to the Prince, the sandy shore padding her approaching steps.
    She cleared her throat, “Prince Emane?”
    The prince jumped and pulled his sword as he turned, pointing it right at her throat. Kiora took a step backwards, swallowing hard, looking at the blade.
    “Kiora!” He dropped his sword back to his side. “What are you doing here?” he shouted at her.
    “I’m sorry,” she blurted, her hand brushing over her nearly skewered neck, she glanced back at the blade now hanging at his side.
    “I could have killed you Kiora, I can’t believe...”
    Lowering her hand she repeated slowly, “I’m sorry.” She fixed her green eyes evenly on him.
    He slowed as her words registered with him, “What?”
    “I am sorry, Emane.”
    He sheathed his sword and turned away from her with an irritated hiss. “Sorry for what? Telling me that I can’t run a kingdom or for insinuating that I would rather push you off a cliff than help you?”
    She cringed. “I judged you before I knew you, I still don’t know you. Aleric has insisted, though, that you’re worth knowing,” she said with a half- hearted smile.
    Emane snorted. “And when did he insist that? He has spent years telling me all the things I need to improve on.” He reached down and threw another rock into the river with a grunt.
    “Do you remember when we first met?” she asked, folding her arms in front of her. “You mistook me for a servant, handed me your laundry and then was angry with me for not agreeing to do it anyway.”
    He smothered a smile, “Most girls would have done the laundry.”
    Her mouth twisted ruefully. Shaking her head she said, “I knew that was the problem.”
    “That you wouldn’t do my laundry? Please Kiora, I have more than one...”
    “No, you aren’t used to anyone standing up to you.”
    “That’s ridiculous,” he scoffed.
    “Really? You seem to still have problems with me standing up to you; or at least failing to grovel at your feet.” Like all the other girls , she thought.
    He looked at her for a long while before walking past her to a fallen log by the river’s edge and very un-majestically plopping down on it. He leaned his elbows on his knees and looked back in Kiora’s direction.
    “So, you’re the Solus.”
    She shifted uncomfortably, “That’s what they tell me.”
    “Wonderful,” he said dryly. “How long have you known?”
    “I have lost track of time, the day I came to the castle. A week, maybe two.”
    “A week!”
    “Maybe two!” she said defensively.
    He shook his head, “Look Kiora, I don’t want to fight; a week just doesn’t seem like a lot of time to fulfill your destiny.”
    She dropped down cross-legged in the sand. “I know.”
    His blue eyes narrowed, “What brought on the sudden change of heart?”
    She shrugged. “We might be spending a lot of time together now that you have agreed to be my Protector.”
    “Hmm,” he grunted. “Can you really do magic?” he asked with a strange mix of curiosity and lingering suspicion. “I mean, besides hitting yourself in the head with a rock.”
    Kiora smirked. He asked, what was she suppose to do? Focusing in on a rock near his foot she willed it to move. Lifting off the ground, it hung there for a moment before flipping him in the knee.
    “OW!”
    “Sorry,” she said trying to suppress a giggle. “I’m still learning.”
    He raised one eyebrow, leaning towards her, “I think you