"The real question is, do you trust him?"

Ovelia glanced over at the young man, caught off guard by his question even as she had pondered it herself many times before. "I...I honestly don't know," she admitted to him, quickly averting her gaze. "I want to because of what he's done for me, but somehow..." She shook her head. "I don't know. Sometimes he acts like he really wants to help me, but then he says he's only out for himself."

"I don't know much about him myself," Rad admitted. "Only what Ramza told us. But then, Ramza doesn't really know him anymore, either."

The Princess nodded. "I can't imagine anyone being that way all their life."

Rad hummed thoughtfully to himself. Ramza had asked for him to stay behind in Zeltennia and take care of Ovelia, but the job was proving to be more difficult than he'd imagined; romantic advice wasn't something he was used to giving, being a bounty hunter by trade. He wasn't happy about leaving Ramza's party now that things were becoming more complicated, but he'd given his word to watch the princess. Not to mention he'd sworn to Agrias, and her temper was the last thing he wanted against him. "Well, this isn't exactly my field, you know," he answered at last. "I'm more of a bounty hunter."

"Yes, I know." Ovelia forced a smile for his sake. "Thanks for your help, Rad. I'm glad I have someone to talk to."

"It's no problem. Listen, I should go." He collected the pieces of armor he'd shed earlier. "I have guard duty. If I'm late, I'll have extra chores."

"Of course."

Rad patted her on the head like a little kid, somewhat enjoying the adopted position of elder brother. "Take care, and try not to worry about it too much. You'll just make yourself crazy. But if you need to talk some more, come find me again."

"Thank you."

Once Rad had left, Ovelia felt more alone and confused than ever. Even though Rad's advice had done her well, out of his presence all the old insecurities came rushing back. The more she considered her situation the more she realized that none of her questions had answers, increasing the discontent in her heart. She wanted to find truth; she had a sickening feeling that it didn't exist.

When Ovelia had first come to Zeltennia, she had been alone and afraid. More and more she felt like someone's toy, to be manipulated and taken advantage of. She'd wanted nothing more than to escape her title as Princess, forsaking any birthright she had to a corrupted and tattered thrown. And though at first she'd found some comfort with the knight who'd rescued her in the first place, now she could only wonder constantly at his intentions.

There was a knock on the door, and before she could reply it opened. She caught her breath when she saw who it was: the very man in question. His dark eyes locked immediately on hers the way they always did; she often imagined that those orbs, so deep, could read her very soul. He was pulling out her memories and her emotions through his gaze, and it frightened her. "Ovelia."

"Thank you for knocking," Ovelia said, trying to raise her tone to something that resembled confidence, "but you really should wait for permission before entering."

Delita Hyrule stared at her a moment more, sending chills up her spine, before answering. "I'll remember that next time." His face showed little--if any--remorse at his rudeness.

"Thank you." Ovelia turned away from him. "Now, what is it you want?"

"You were talking to that boy." He advanced further into the room, standing just beside the chair she was seated at. "What did you tell him?"

"Why do you ask? He's my friend, and merely a guard."

"I know that Ramza sent him to keep track of you," he said quietly, startling her. "I was impressed by his being drafted into the palace guards so quickly. He's determined. He must have gotten that from Ramza."

Ovelia forced herself to meet his gaze defiantly. "So? Knowing that, what will you do?"

Delita's expression--or rather, lack of expression--didn't change. "Nothing, for now. I have no reason to do anything, do I?"

"No. So leave him alone. And leave me alone," she added, choking slightly on the words.

He paused for a moment before speaking again. "I see." He watched her just as long, piercing her with his intense, dark eyes. Then, without a word, he turned and left the room, closing the door behind him.

Ovelia turned to watch the door as he left, now even more confused and distraught than ever.

For the past several weeks Ovelia had forced herself to be very conscious of her surroundings, and the situations she found herself in: she didn't want to find herself being used again. Now, something was changing. She could see it in Delita's dark eyes every time he looked at her. She wasn't quite sure what it was: lust, love, or simply an opportunity. But the more she caught his gaze on her the more she found herself looking back. She often stared at his face when he was unaware, watching his sharp features, firm jaw and dark, slicked back brown hair. She thought that the gold armor he wore was impressive, but she liked it more when he dressed in simpler clothes, giving her a better idea of the shape of his body. These things embarrassed her, and she often escaped his presence to avoid being caught in her own emotions. She didn't want him to know that his control over her was working.

One night the princess had subjected herself to some particularly disturbing thoughts, and she fled to the ruins of Zeltennia church in order to find her solitude. It was dark and there were none of the birds she normally found among the tumbled-down walls. It was this place in which Delita Hyrule had first sworn his trust to her, among the wildflowers and the weeds. She remembered crying in his arms--crying hard until her eyes ran dry and she had nothing left to give. She wanted to believe in the promises he'd made to her again and again, but still her logic outweighed her heart and would allow no order to be established in her thoughts. She sat down on the soft earth and hugged her knees in close. She was in the very same spot, and just as before, she wept.

"Ovelia."

The Princess started, raising her head almost fearfully to meet Delita's dark stare. "How did you know?" she asked tremulously, failing to hide her anxiety. She reached to wipe her tears away.

Before one finger could be laid upon the salty droplets Delita was there, holding her hands down. She gasped at the suddenness in his approach and averted her eyes to keep the fear from showing. She didn't want to be afraid of him, but she couldn't help it; he was a cold man and his hands were unkind. "Leave me alone," she hissed, choking on an unwanted sob. "You..."

"Why are you crying?" He touched his finger to her face, tracing the moistened path of its falling. "What happened to you?"

Ovelia risked a glance back at him. "Why do you care?" she asked warily.

"Who hurt you?" Delita edged closer, his face solid and serious, but also genuinely concerned. "Did someone hurt you?"

"No...no nothing like that." Ovelia eased his hands away from her face; they were making her nervous. "I'm alone here. What do you want with me?"

"I don't want anything." She was surprised by the softness in his voice and face, as it was something she wasn't accustomed to seeing from him. But when he spoke again his words sent her flesh crawling once more. "I know you're upset. It's me, isn't it?"

"How can you always read my mind?" the princess cried, retreating further. "Delita, what do you want from me? Why have you been trying to manipulate me all this time? It's not fair."

His face twitched, as if some expression had formed beneath the mask of his insensitivity. "It's not magic," he told her in a firm whisper. "There are things that men know."

"What kinds of things?"

"Things." He touched her cheek with rough fingertips, and though at first she pulled away, the slowness in his movements calmed her, and the warmth of his skin was almost comforting. "I know you're frightened of me. I don't want you to be. You know what I want--this kingdom will be yours. I told you that, right here."

She nodded, and swallowed the lump forming in her throat. "I remember," she croaked.

"Then why be afraid?" Delita was closer than he had been a moment before, and she became conscious of everything around her. They were sitting close together, her with her legs pulled to her chest and him beside her so that his ribs pressed against her thigh. One of his hands lay on the ground on her other side. The other hand remained on her face. She could feel his chest expanding against her leg as he breathed. The air from his mouth touched her cheek. These things she was beginning to notice now, and she felt her skin heating with unwanted images.

His hand curled around her chin. Another touched the base of her jaw, urging her forward. He was holding his breath and she hers. His lips touched hers just barely, if only for a moment, and they were dry and hot, unlike what she would have imagined them to be from her dreams. Then he kissed her fully, dragging her into the confusion of that contact. Mists were spread about her mind and the world grew dark and silent. But still she was aware of everything around her: his hands on her face and neck, his hip against hers, but most of all the steadily increasing pulse of her own frail heart.

She didn't know what to do. She began to shake and her eyelids drifted shut. She was afraid and couldn't gather the strength to push him away even as her body yearned for closeness. It was as if she were experiencing the sensations of someone else's body from far away: his hands were on her neck, then her shoulders, gripping them tightly. His lips were harsh and demanding of hers and she responded to them without thinking. He touched her arms, her hands, her back, binding her up in a smothering embrace, like the thick blankets of deep water. She was trapped between his body and his arms, her fear and her desire, until her clarity fell also and there was only a cauldron of insanity and chaos whirling--spinning out of control.

Ovelia pushed against his chest hard, and though at first he would not yield, once she tore her lips away his ferocity halted. Slowly, he released her and leaned away to put distance between them. The absence of him made her body feel cold. "I...I'm sorry," she whispered weakly, pressing her hands against her chest. Oh god, she prayed, calm this foolish, foolish heart. "I think you've made a mistake, Sir Delita." She felt his eyes on her, but she would not bring herself to view his face. Greater than the fear of what had just happened was the fear of what lay ahead.

To Ovelia's dull amazement he said no harsh words. He took her hand in a light grasp and helped her to her feet, and without speaking led her back to the castle and her room. Just before she entered she turned to see what expressions may lie in his hollow eyes, but by then he had turned away and was on his way down the corridor. "Good night, Princess," was all he said.

Ovelia watched his back until he'd disappeared from view before entering her room. She sat down on the bed and called forth the memories of that night. Then she lay down against her pillows and cried herself to sleep.

To Queen's Love

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