***

 

It was only later that night when I went to the roof in an effort to clear my persistent headache with the crisp night air that I found out how Andric really felt about everything.

“You should be asleep,” he said when I opened the door and found him staring out at the dark mountains.

“So should you,” I reminded him, surprised by his guarded tone.

“I wasn't the one who almost got killed.”

I frowned and crossed the remaining few feet between us. “Why the sudden hostility? I thought you were worried about me.”

In one smooth motion, Andric turned and grabbed my arms firmly. “Hostility? You laugh about the fact that you almost died and you think I'm hostile?”

At the pain in his eyes, I stuttered, “I'm sorry-”

He cut me off, his dark eyes passionate. “Do you understand how precarious your position is here? How much you've done since you arrived? You've touched my people more than I ever could.”

I shook my head, surprised. “That's not true. They love you; they-“

He frowned. “It's not a bad thing, and I'm not upset. I'm just. . .” He threw up his arms in frustration. “I don't know what I am anymore. You confuse me more than anyone else I know.”

Tears pricked at my eyes and I fought to keep them from breaking free. “I think I should go now.”

I turned to leave, but he caught my hand. I refused to look at him. “Kit, I'm sorry.” When I couldn't find the words to respond, he sighed. “I don't know why I'm upset. Well, I do; I just don't know what to do about it.”

I forced the question past the knot in my throat. “Do about what?”

He pulled gently at my hand again and I turned slowly, afraid of what I would see. At the look on my face, he simply stared at me, his eyes wide. “Look what I'm putting you through,” he said quietly, more to himself than to me.

The sorrow and regret in his voice broke my heart. “I'm fine,” I lied.

He shook his head. “No, you're not. You've been through a lot in the past few days and I'm making it worse.” He turned his head away. “I don't even deserve you as a friend, Kit.”

The tears broke free, spilling down my cheeks. I stepped forward and hid my face against his chest.

Surprised, he froze, then put his arms around me gingerly as if he thought I would break. A finger of cold twisted about my legs and I shivered. He pulled me tighter. “I'm so sorry,” he whispered.

“You have nothing to be sorry about,” I said, my voice catching. “I'm just a little emotionally unstable right now and I'm blaming it on the bump on my head.”

“Convenient,” he replied into my hair. “But what excuse do I have?”

I hugged him tighter. “You have a whole country on your shoulders, and are doing a much better job than anyone I know has done at twice your age, but you give yourself no credit for it.” My heart constricted. “You don't see the impact you have on your people. They love you more than you realize.”

He was quiet for a long time. I listened to the rhythmic pounding of his heart. My own slowed. When he finally spoke, his voice was soft. “I care about you, Kit. I care about you more than I've ever cared about anyone or anything.”

My heart skipped several beats; I stepped back to look at his face. He stared down at me, his eyes unfathomable. He reached out and wiped the tears from my cheeks with a gentle hand that shook slightly. “I didn't plan for this to happen.”

“Me neither,” I said softly.

His eyes clouded and he looked past me. “I never realized how much I didn't feel until I met you and saw how you brightened everything you came in contact with.” He looked back at me and gave a half smile. “Even me.” He pushed a wayward strand of hair behind my ear. “I didn't know how closed off I'd become. I guess. . .” he sighed and closed his eyes. “I guess I was as lost as Father the day Mother died; I just never knew it.”

“You're not lost anymore?” I asked softly.

He shook his head, hesitated, then shrugged with a wry smile. “Let's just say not as lost,” he concluded with a laugh. Then he fell quiet and I watched as the lightheartedness faded from his eyes and the laughter from his face. It made my heart ache to see him close off again. “But you're a Crown,” he finally whispered.

Everything crashed down around me at that simple truth. “And you rule your kingdom,” I replied, trying to keep the heartache out of my voice and failing entirely.

He opened his arms and I stepped into them. This time, the tears didn't fall. There was no reason for them, and we both knew it. We had a duty to our countries, and neither could leave our people without a ruler. We held each other for a long time, safe but heartbroken within our little bubble that would burst the second we let go. It was never to be, and the hardest part was accepting it.

I shivered in the cold night air and it seemed to bring Andric back to himself. “You really do need to sleep,” he whispered. It sounded like goodbye.

“You, too,” I said into his chest. “You work so hard.”

“You make it worthwhile,” he replied with a hint of a smile in his sad voice.

I hugged him tightly for a second, then stepped back. “I-I. . . .” Words eluded me as I looked at him, the starlight in his gaze, his dark hair unruly. He still had circles under his eyes and shadows beneath his cheekbones. There was no one to take care of him, and he always put himself last below everything else. I wouldn't be able to take care of him. My eyes stung. Without a word, I turned and fled the roof and the Prince who watched silently after me.