It had been twelve years since Rakta had first shown up at the gates of Diamond Castle. Twelve years spent training in the deadly, lovely art of war.

Rakta was nineteen, the princess a year younger. And he was now old enough to know just how far away she truly was from him. He understood Masuta's warning now, rank an unshakeable, invisible line between himself and Avinos.

The years before he had come to the castle seemed hardly worth remembering.

Rakta had loved the Princess for as long as he could, or cared, to remember. So he had always loved her, watching as she learned to write and dance and whatever else it was princesses were supposed to learn.

It had gotten him in trouble with his own teachers when he'd paid more attention to Avinos than to his own lessons of fighting and shooting and whatever else it was Aces were supposed to learn.

He wasn't supposed to love her.

Not like this.

"Ace!" Masuta's harsh voice snapped Rakta's attention back to his teacher. He turned, trying to pretend like he hadn't really been watching Avinos read in the sunlight, a summer breeze playing gaily with her bright hair.

He met Masuta's unamused gaze steadily, wiping his face clean of any emotion that might betray him.

Masuta sighed and shook his head, his red hair now shot through with white. Rakta waited until his teacher looked up at the sun and asked, "Have you eaten today?"

Rakta, startled by the concerned question, shook his head. "I haven't had time."

Masuta eyed Rakta's lean, strong frame. "Well then, on with you, lad. How are you supposed to fight anything looking so much like an underfed broom?" Rakta opened his mouth, trying to protest, but Masuta waved a hand. "I'll be by the east wall in two hours," he warned. "If you know what's good for you, so will you."

He turned away as Rakta saluted, his eyes already wandering back to Avinos, a violent argument beginning to take place in his mind. He stood there for a full three minutes before he shook his head and turned sharply on his heel, intending to go directly to the kitchens.

But he hadn't been fast enough. Or fate was just tempting him instead of the other way around.

"Rakta!" Avinos' voice rang across the garden, and his steps automatically slowed, drawn to her the way a magnet was attracted to its opposite.

The princess set her book down and hurried across the smooth, green lawn where Rakta had spent the past three hours in physical training with Masuta, pushing his body into demanding, unforgiving positions that ensured not only strength but flexibility as well. Rakta looked around in vain for his shirt, then remembered that he hadn't bothered to bring one.

His cheeks grew warm as the princess approached, a small smile playing around her mouth as she eyed him, taking in his state of partial undress. Rakta looked down, embarrassed and pleased.

Then he shook his head. She was a princess. She could look at whomever she wanted, whenever she wanted. Rakta was not granted that same freedom and he shouldn't be pleased by her attention either. Merely tolerant of it.

He started when something was tossed at him and caught it, his reflexes not abandoning him even as his common sense tried to. Rakta looked in puzzlement down at the white cloth in his hands, then unfolded it to find a shirt. Quickly, he put it on, his heart starting to slow as he felt he was finally able to meet the princess's gaze.

She smiled brightly. "Now you can come with me," she said.

Avinos grabbed his hand and pulled him along, Rakta still unable to resist the strange, wonderful creature even to this day. But he was able to ask, "Where are we going?"

She threw a mysterious smile over her shoulder, leading him into the castle. "It's a surprise."

"Av—Princess, please. It's better if I know." Rakta grimaced as he had to remember not to call her by her first name. It was a bad habit he had picked up as a child.

No one had minded when they where ten years old and playing hide-and-seek in the castle, but eventually, he had started to see the dirty looks and mutters among the others.

Avinos rolled her eyes. "Better or no, I'm still not telling you, Rakta."

He slowed his steps and she tugged hard on his hand, pulling him forward, into her. His eyes went wide as their bodies collided and he jumped backwards, then had to scramble to catch a decorative vase sitting on a small and, Rakta thought, rather useless table. He snagged the vase with little more than the tips of his fingers, balanced precariously on one foot, his body twisted sideways as he struggled to make sure he wasn't responsible for something that must be horrifically expensive or historically important. 

Rakta inhaled deeply, methodically tensing some muscles and relaxing others to make balancing easier until he felt confident in his ability to return the vase safely to its perch. After that, he let out a small, relieved breath and turned back to the princess who made a point to applaud his efforts.

She smiled and grabbed his hand once more. Batting her eyelashes, she asked, "Don't you trust me?"

He swallowed nervously, coming to the conclusion that the princess simply did not play fair. So he nodded, because there was nothing else to do.

Avinos laughed and began to run. The scene was so reminiscent of when he had first come to the castle that Rakta couldn't help but laugh as well. The only difference now was that Rakta was paying more attention to the princess than to tapestries and paintings of old Queens and Kings.

He was careful not to outpace the princess, but they were still going too fast. Rakta saw with horror the catastrophe that was about to take place as two servants carrying a table laden with crystal glasses and porcelain plates stepped out into the hall.

Like most others did when something unexpected happened, the servants froze in the middle of the corridor, barring their path. But it was too late and they couldn't possibly slow down now.

Rakta knew he had to act fast, his eyes cataloging everything in the hall. Another of those ridiculously small tables caught his attention, as did a small settee on the other side of the servants and their table.

Avinos let out a small shriek when Rakta sped up, pulling her almost roughly into his arms as he scooped her up. She clung to his neck as he held her to him tightly, now pushing harder, faster.

Adrenaline poured through him as he leapt up, using the small table as a spring board to hurl them over the top of the table. The screams of the servants were dull in his ears as he rolled in midair, flipping over as he wrapped his arms even more securely around Avinos.

The small couch was springier than Rakta had anticipated. The breath was knocked from him as his back hit the cushions, only to be sucked back in with his surprise when he found them flying back in to the air. Rakta tucked his chin into his chest to protect his head, already understanding how much this was going to hurt.

But he was determined that the only one to be hurt was himself. That was his job after all.

The impact was brutal as he smacked into the punishing marble, his ribcage and shoulder blades screaming in protest as they hit with enough force for the sound to echo down the length of the hallway. Rakta's arms loosened of their own accord, all of his nerves dead, his lungs paralyzed from the shock of the impact. 

His eyes wandered down to the princess who was still curled up on his chest, her hands gripping his shirt, eyes squeezed shut, lips white. Slowly, her eyes fluttered open and Rakta lay his head down, struggling desperately now to convince his lungs that they were, in fact, still responsible for pulling air into his body. 

"Rakta?" the princess whispered.

He nodded weakly, finally able to suck in a much-needed breath as the knot of muscle just under his ribcage let go. His eyes closed just to fly back open as the princess was torn from him. He sat up and tried to get to his feet, ready to fight whatever had taken Avinos before he could make sure that she was all right.

When he realized it was just the servants fussing over their mistress, apologizing and trying to make sure she was unhurt, he allowed himself to relax. Rakta managed to get to his knees before he slumped sideways into the traitorous settee, his body refusing to follow what it now deemed insane orders from its master.

He was pretty sure he'd cracked a rib. It felt like it had the last time he'd broken a rib, falling off of one of the garden walls as Masuta taught him to balance in the most precarious of situations.

At least this time it wasn't raining on him too.

He looked up to find Avinos staring at him and tried to raise a hand to let her know he was sorry for what had happened. Pain stabbed viciously at him and he gasped, doubling over.

"Enough!" Avinos snapped, making him look up in astonishment. The servants gave their princess a similar wide-eyed expression.

Avinos never snapped. Never.

She pressed her still-white lips together and pointed at the table. "Just take that wherever it was going in the first place. I am fine, all I wish is to be left in peace!"

The servants looked at each other, then at Rakta, who knew better than to shrug, before they picked up the table and continued on their way after one more apology.

Avinos waited, her foot tapping against the marble until the servants were gone before she rushed over to Rakta, her hands fluttering nervously around him. Finally, she settled on placing a hand on his shoulder. "Rakta, are you okay? Are you hurt?"

"I'm all right," he said through gritted teeth.

Then he tried to push himself to his feet again, only managing to flop sideways onto the couch, a small cry escaping when he landed on his injured side.

Avinos put her hands on her hips, glaring down at him. "You are not all right!"

She sighed and bent over, helping him sit up before joining him, her warm body pressing into his. Avinos sighed again. "That was reckless of you, Rakta."

He blanched as she blamed him for what had just happened, sick to his core as he thought of what could have happened to the princess if he had mis-stepped but once through that entire escapade.

Ignoring completely his own injuries, he stood up and bowed, pain knifing him again as he apologized profusely. "I'm sorry, Princess. Truly I am. I should have been paying attention. It's unacceptable that I put you in such danger. I will take whatever punishment you deem appropriate gladly. My only concern is that you are not hurt, Your Highness?"

He heard her mutter something but didn't look up, even as his vision started to spot, multiple bruises making themselves known along with the rib. He saw the edge of her skirt, then her hands were on the sides of his face.

"Look at me, Rakta," she ordered. He did unwillingly, eyes searching for any sign of injury to the princess. She smacked her hand against his shoulder and said, "You foolish man! I'm not hurt because you were there! I'm perfectly fine because you protected me."

Rakta looked at the ground again, remorse and pride making strange companions in his chest.

Avinos held his face, her fingers cool on his skin as she looked up into his eyes. Softly, she said, "I merely meant that it was reckless of you to endanger yourself. I don't like it when you are hurt, Rakta, and you are hurt far too often for my liking."

A million memories rushed through his mind of Avinos visiting him in the hospital wing of the castle every time he had been badly hurt, which was often thanks to the grueling training becoming an Ace required. Eventually, Rakta was pulled back to the present, and he realized how very close he was standing to the princess. He smiled and removed her hands gently before taking a step back, trying to keep his feelings from showing.

Something he had become very good at over the course of the years.

Avinos bit her lip. "I think we should get you to the doctor. Though that does rather ruin my plans."

She said the last bit lightly, letting him know that she didn't really think anything was ruined. Rakta shook his head, forcing himself to stand up straight. "I really am fine, Avi," he said with a more genuine smile. "You think a little hit like that can really hurt an Ace?"

She brightened as he used the childhood nickname he had given her days after they met, but then bit her lip, hesitant. Rakta took her hand again and nodded his head. "Come on. I would much rather spend an hour with you even when you won't tell me what we're doing than going to see Hakimi."

Avinos giggled, knowing Rakta's intense dislike of the castle's doctor and his many salves, all of which seemed to smell like feet or fish. Still a little unsure, she said, "Okay, but let's not run."

Rakta sighed internally in relief before letting her pull him along, leading him through the castle into the kitchens. Just as he had twelve years ago, he watched in amusement as Avinos walked away with an entire pie before leading him to that very same garden.

"What is all of this, Avinos?" He took the fork she offered.

Around a bite of pie, in a most unladylike way, Avinos said, "Haven't you guessed yet, Rakta? Don't you know what today is?"

Rakta shook his head in bemusement, stabbing his fork into the pie. "No."

Avinos stopped, her fork halfway to her mouth, staring at him. Rakta shifted a little and his rib hissed at him, forcing him to be still under the princess's scrutiny.

She waved her fork around. "It's our anniversary, Rakta!"

He choked on a berry and coughed, his bones on fire inside of him as he looked up at the princess, eyes tearing up a little. She frowned at him, but didn't press, knowing it would be useless and said, "Twelve years ago, you and I met on this very day. Don't you remember?"

"I could hardly forget," he returned, then blushed, taking another bite.

Avinos laughed. "You told me that boys don't care about pretty things and that you liked me."

He risked looking up at her, only to become entranced by the soft, far away smile on her face. Her eyes found his. "Do you still like me, Rakta?"

Rakta couldn't answer at first, the truth warring with his responsibilities. Finally, he was able to settle on a compromise. "Of course, Princess. Only a fool wouldn't like such a kind, gracious princess." He shoved a bite of pie into his mouth to prevent it running away from him.

He looked up just in time to catch what might have disappointment flicker across her face. But all she did was smile politely. "Thank you, Rakta."

They finished the pie, and Rakta looked up to find he was very close to missing Masuta's deadline. He sprang to his feet, just to groan and clutch at his side. Avinos stood, concern showing in full force as he stepped away from her.

"Rakta..." she began, but he just pulled farther away.

He gave her a half bow, all he could manage. "Thank you for this, Princess. But I must beg your leave."

He then turned and began making his way quickly but painfully across the castle grounds, finding it harder to breathe with each step. Rakta slowed only when he got to the east wall to find Masuta with crossed arms, glaring at him.

He waited nervously. Then Masuta pointed to the top of the wall. "There's something up there for you."

Rakta looked at the daunting wall, its smooth face mocking him. Usually, this would hardly be a challenge. Today it would be all but impossible. The look on Masuta's face led him to believe that his teacher had heard about what had happened in the hall and this was his punishment for endangering the princess.

He approached the wall cautiously, like it might bite him, and ran his hands over the smooth stone, sensitive fingers picking out the miniscule cracks that had served as handholds many times before.

Rakta inhaled shallowly, sure he was going to be killed.

The first time he had to reach above his head was agony. Rakta tried not to think, pain scalding him as he made his slow way up the wall.

After much too long, he braved looking up to find himself barely a foot from the top and wanted to sigh, but couldn't, his left side now roughly the temperature and consistency of molten lava. Rakta couldn't stop the cry of pain that left his lips as he hauled himself to the top and turned so that he was sitting, his breath wanting to heave in and out. He couldn't indulge that need as the pain from his rib started to radiate through his body, making him nauseous.

Rakta looked to his right slowly, white starbursts starting to blind him, then looked to his left. Sitting there on the stone wall was a broken wine glass.

Rakta stared at it uncomprehendingly before looking down when Masuta shouted, "That little stunt in the hall would have been perfect, but your boot clipped the glass. Be more careful next time."

The Ace sagged a little as his suspicions were confirmed. 

"Now come down here, lad," Masuta called. "I've something for you."

Rakta looked down and frowned before sighing. Either way this was going to hurt. But he knew one way that would hurt for a shorter period of time.

He stood, then stepped lightly off the top of the thirty-foot wall. The balls of his feet hit the grass seconds later with an uncomfortable impact before he curled in on himself, softening the landing by letting his momentum carry and dissipate into a neat roll instead of trying to stop himself dead.

Red burst across his vision, and he was slow to get up.

Masuta was standing in front of him. He nodded approvingly, then opened his mouth, but Rakta couldn't hear him over the buzzing in his ears.

The red changed to black and Rakta thought he must have hit the ground again.

He wasn't sure though, unconsciousness stealing him away.