1712, Lorewell

    Lorewell. Julian did not know whether he hated it or loved it. There, he had made some of the loveliest memories, but also some of the ugliest. Since he left for Amaris, there was no news from Lorewell, and he knew nothing about how she was faring.

According to plan, the troops were supposed to head back to the capital through the western route, marching through the regions of Riviera, Esterdel and Charon. However, Julian had made a change of plans, and the soldiers were to make a detour and follow the eastern route, thus crossing the region of Lorewell. There was a nagging feeling, an undiminishable desire to go and see her, but a part of Julian was also afraid of what he would hear.

But when he passed by the stretch of road that would lead directly to de Fontaine manor, Julian could hold back no longer. He brought his stallion to a halt, and the soldiers behind him abruptly paused in their tracks too.

    "Your Highness?" he heard one of the soldiers say in concern. "Are you alright? Do you feel fatigued?"

Julian shook his head. "No, not at all. I simply have somewhere to go. Continue on without me."

    "Do you need any of us to come with you? It is wise to bring some men with you," the soldier insisted.

    "No need for all that, gentlemen," Julian replied, his lips curved in a soft smile. "I am simply here to see my love. When the time is right, I shall return to the capital."

The soldiers guffawed, their faces lighting up with joy and excitement. "Go ahead, Your Highness! We are looking forward to seeing our loved ones too!" one of them said.

    "Now, you take care, Your Highness. And do not forget to bring our new Princess Consort with you when you return!" said another.

As they marched on, laughing and singing victoriously, Julian's smile faded. He turned around and stared at the long, winding stretch of road. He knew exactly where it would lead, but he had no idea if the person he so desperately wanted to see was still in this world, still living, still breathing.

    Julian's heart clenched painfully. A part of him refused to know of Catarina's fate, but the other half of him was desperate to know, aching to hold her in his arms. What if he knocked on that door, only to see her maidservant all garbed in black, delivering the news that he dreaded most?

He tightened his hold on the reins of the stallion, and at that moment, he made up his mind. Julian urged the horse to move forward, and as it did, the cold, wild winds struck him in the face, raking through his golden brown hair.

    Then, when the vast mansion came into view, Julian tugged onto the horse's reins, halting it once more. He inhaled sharply and stepped down to the ground. The de Fontaine manor looked the same as it always did. It was far too large for three people to live in, let alone two now, to the point where it seemed lifeless.

The roses and tulips that grew in the courtyard were lively and well-tended as they always have been, and in the corners of his eyes, he could see the servants chatting and laughing at the outdoor kitchen, their faces devoid of any gloom or sadness. Despite there being nothing wrong, nothing out of place, Julian's heart still trembled with unease. Until he saw her standing before him, alive and breathing, the unease would not subside.

He took a deep breath as he walked up to the door, and knocked. For a brief moment, there was no answer, only the whistling wind, so he leaned forward to knock again. But before he could do so, the door swung open, revealing the flushed faces of Rosie and Marie, Catarina's two maidservants. Their attires were the same as they had always been, and not a single article of black clothing could be seen.

    "Your Highness!" Rosie exclaimed, her face twisted with both shock and worry. Julian did not like that of

    "Is Catarina here?" he abruptly questioned, though he could barely hear his own voice over the sound of his heart beating in his ears.

    "She's gone!" Marie suddenly cried out, although her expression suggested anxiety rather than sorrow. Nevertheless, that single two-word sentence was enough to turn Julian's world upside down.

He stiffened, his face as pale and white as a corpse. He felt sick, as if he had been brutally punched in the gut. His worst fear had come true. Then, the tears that he had tried so hard to repress eventually returned.

    "Oh no, Your Highness!" Rosie's voice rang. "I assure you that my mistress is very alive and well. It is just that she left the manor without telling anyone this afternoon, though I did hear her mentioning about the sunflower field. That is what Marie was trying to say, so please, do not cry Your Highness!"

Julian looked up, glowering at Marie's poor choice of wording. Then, he noticed in the distance, a few yards away from the manor, thousands of sunflowers had sprouted, creating a massive blanket of gold. Knowing Catarina, Julian wondered if she had gotten lost once again.

    "Wait for me," he muttered under his breath. "I will come to you."

1712, De Fontaine Manor, Lorewell

    Catarina could not believe her luck. Not good luck, but rather, the lack of it. This was her first time venturing outside side she awoke from her deep slumber, and only God knows the measures she had to take in order to evade Rosie and Marie. From the very moment she opened her eyes, every single food and drink that she consumed was tested for poison, and even her entire wardrobe had been turned upside down.

Catarina understood that her father had become overprotective of her due to what had occurred, so she silently tolerated his over-the-top measures. It was only when news of Marguerite le Prince's death reached Lorewell did he relax the precautions, although only by a tiny bit. Nevertheless, this little gap was all that Catarina needed in order to escape.

She had been staring at the vast sunflower field behind the manor through her bedroom window on a daily basis, although she knew that Rosie would never allow her to go there. Too muddy, Rosie would say. In truth, Catarina was not entirely too fond of the muddy terrain either, but in this field of sunflowers, she could pretend as if her mother was there with her. She would silently stand there in the middle of the field, the top of her head barely visible amongst the golden sunflowers, and then she would shut her eyes. The vivid memories of the indigo skies, the sand crunching underneath the soles of her feet, the crashing waves... And her mother, her dear mother, was standing in the centre of it all.

    As evening steadily approached, Catarina turned around to return to the manor, and that was when she realized that the path she took led to a dead end. The sunflowers were in full bloom, so they were quite tall and towered over her. Although they were not as tall as the hedges back at the palace, this wall of sunflowers was enough to obscure her view. The stalks were dense and close together, making it impossible to pass through without trampling them. That, was the very last thing that Catarina would want to do. These sunflowers reminded her of the only memory she had of her mother, whether it was real or only an illusion. She cherished them, and she could not bring herself to destroy them.

So she paced around, aimlessly and lightheartedly at first, but soon she was overtaken by anxiety and desperation. If the situation could not become any more worse, she soon felt droplets of water splattering on top of her head. It was raining.

    "Just my luck," Catarina grunted as she gathered up her skirts, the mud squelching underneath her feet. "It is always the rain, always the-"

    "Catarina!"

She abruptly paused in her tracks, and she wondered if she was hearing things. Perhaps she had gone delirious. Shaking her head, she trudged forward, ankle-deep in mud.

    "Catarina, where are you?"

This time, the voice sounded so much closer, so much more desperate. And she recognized that voice, although she could not exactly pinpoint who it belonged to. Knowing that she was not hearing things, and that this was likely her only hope to be saved, Catarina loudly yelled, "Here!"

She heard a loud rustling from all around her, and then, there he emerged, his face flushed and slick with sweat. His eyes raked his surroundings in bewilderment, and when they finally rested on her, he stiffened, as if he had just seen a ghost. Catarina did not blame him though, since she quite literally had been inches away from death just a few days ago.

    "You!" she exclaimed, flabbergasted. "What are you doing here?"

Here was the Prince, mud-stained and soaked with rain. It was a peculiar sight, to say the least.

    "I came here to find you," he retorted exasperatedly as he quickly unclasped his velvet cloak and draped it over Catarina's head, shielding her from the rain. Shivering, she did not refuse.

    "You did?" she murmured softly, her dark orbs staring up at him, clashing with his deep amber ones.

    "Why else would I be here?" Julian chuckled softly as he bent down to her eye level. "I came here to see you, dear Catarina."

For a moment, his hand hovered above her cheek, as if he wanted to touch her, but hesitated. In any other setting, their actions would be considered preposterous, scandalous even. But they were in the middle of a sunflower field, without another human being in sight, and this time, Catarina could not care less about propriety. She reached out her hand and gently held onto his, then rested his palm against her cheek.

    "And I have been waiting," she whispered. "As I always have."

    "But you shall not need to wait another moment," he replied. "I have come for you, and as I have promised before, I shall make you mine."

There was no one there, and only the skies and the wind stood witness to their proclamation of love. In truth, it was much better this way. A man and a woman, both madly in love, and there was nothing that could tear them apart. Julian bent down on one knee, and there, in his palm was a golden ring with an emerald in the centre, which was customarily worn by all Princess Consorts prior to becoming queen.

    "Catarina de Fontaine, will you marry me?"

Her answer was forever unchanging. With a jubilant smile on her face, she beamed, "Yes!"