You wiped your brow as you looked up at the sun. It was a hot day and you still had to milk the cows. With a sigh, you stood, taking the basket of veggies with you into the little cottage house sitting on the top of the hill. You looked at the goods in the pantry and winced. You will need to go into town, the one think you despised doing the most, besides cleaning out the chicken coop. The people there never really accepted you after your foster parent had died five years ago. Now it was just you, the cottage, and the small farm.

Your milk cow, Tracy, mooed in the distance and the chickens clucked, reminding you of the chores you still needed to do.

"Just a moment Tracy. I need to make a list of things to get in town."

And you did just that.

Bread

Sugar

Salt

Flour

Potatoes

Thread

Then at the very bottom;

Family

You may have what was necessary to live but having a family was the one thing you most desperately wanted. Tracy mooed again and you hurried and pocketed your list before running off to milk the sweet cow. Then off to the town where you had to somehow get what you needed with what little money you had.

~

Peter missed being able to walk among a crowd and not be singled out as the High King. When Edmond had become too sick to check on the outlying towns around Cair Paravale, Peter jumped at the chance. Being a king lost its excitement and charm after six years and he was yearning for the chance to do something more than go to meetings or read mounds of legal papers. Thankfully, being an outlying town, they didn't know what he looked like yet, but his civilian clothes helped him seem like a passing local.

He smiled as he passed people, taking in the sights and sounds. A row of fruit venders caught his eye.

"Why hello! You are an unfamiliar face."

Peter smiled as he walked up to the apple vender who called out to him. "Yes, I'm just passing through."

"Well, perfect! You will find no better apples in town or anywhere else. That is, unless you go to Cair Paravale and eat among the Kings and Queens."

Peter hid a smirk. He had just paid for a delicious apple when he heard raised voices just a bit down the row of venders. A young woman dressed like a milk maid was being yelled at by a woman who was selling threads. It looked like the young woman was used to the onslaught of words but kindly tried to get her thread.

"Oh, dear. It's her again."

Peter turned to the apple vender. "Excuse me but what's the matter?"

The apple vender gave him a pitying look though he had a feeling it wasn't for him. "Oh that's (Y/n). She thinks herself high and mighty. Tries to take our goods for such thieving prices she does." The other fruit venders nodded in agreement. "She's a hermit of sorts. Never leaves her home. But when she's here she's all smiles and throwing herself at men right and left. Paa! I say good riddance to her family."

Peter was shocked how harshly they spoke of her and was about to ask why when a burly man came of the neighboring spices shop. He brandished a broom and raised it as if the strike the milk maid. But she stood her ground. Peter surged forward and guarded the woman, raising an arm, taking the brunt of the hit. Her hand reached out and took his arm that held her back and he glanced at her. Fear filled her (e/c) eyes and he was filled with an overpowering need to protect her.

"No!" She tried to pull Peter away but he didn't want to leave without an explanation.

No one should go around striking people just because of some rumors. Especially women. Peter made sure to keep you behind him as he took another hit. The people turned to watch as Peter defended the lowly milk maid though the words coming from her mouth didn't sound at all like a weak woman.

"For shame! The lot of you! I rarely come here and you shoo me away like a mangy rat! I have done nothing wrong and you know it!"

The man with the broom tried to swipe again but Peter staid his hand, wincing at the pain in his hand. The young woman kept ahold of his arm, her touch giving him strength. This was no passing traveler unless he was a worrier at one point. The muscle that moved under his sleeve told you as much

"I would put that down if I were you." Peter said with as much authority as he could muster without sounding like a self-righteous ass.

"Then I suggest you get your mangy chit out of here. Maybe teach her how to respect an honest man's price."

Peter gave the man a humorless smile. "You have a lot of nerve to be so ready to hit a woman."

The man scoffed. "She is a nuisance. And what is she to you? You can't do nothin' about it pretty boy." He raised the broom again. But this time Peter was better prepared.

He gently pushed her aside as he reached his hand out upside-down and took old of the broom handle, turning his body with it in his grip. He reached behind him and took hold with his other hand, the broom securely in his grasp behind his back. With a swift motion he jabbed the man, momentarily stunning him but just long enough for Peter to swing it around with his first hand. He grasped it with both hands now, like a sword, bringing it down on the man's shoulder with a solid crack.

~

The man winced in pain as he fell down to one of his knees. He looked up at Peter with seething anger but it quickly turned into surprise as he came face to face with the handle of the broom mere inches from his face. Your guardian didn't look like he just took down a man half his size and that gave you a feeling that there was more to this man than he was letting on.

"This pretty boy will do something about it. Especially since-" your savior faltered but you only noticed because you were paying so close attention to him, "I am a gentleman who seems to have more dignity and respect for woman than half the men here."

Your heart warmed toward this stranger. But your fear and anger from being attacked and denied your goods soon came roaring back. Tears threatened to spill as you pressed the back of your hand to your mouth. Five years of this treatment and now you are about to crack? And in front of a handsome gentleman too. You turned to leave but a hand gingerly took your arm, making you turn.

"Are you alright?"

You collected yourself before you met his eyes. They took your breath away how startling blue they were. But they complemented his hair perfectly, making him look almost like royalty. Now that's an idea; the High King coming to your rescue. But you only felt humiliation at the notion.

"Yes. All thanks to you I can now live another day." You have him a tight smile.

"I suppose that doesn't cause for complaint. But I would feel better knowing they would no longer treat you that way." His smile didn't reach his eyes and that gave you reason to pause.

"I fear that is how it has been for five years and I don't think you stepping in- OH!" You noticed his other arm that he was trying to hide behind his back. Blood was dripping to the floor behind him and he didn't seem to know until you called out. You reached forward and gently took it so you could see it properly. "You must come with me. They may think me useless but I am good with healing."

The young man smiled at you gratefully. "I would appreciate it. Thank you." He took his arm and held it against his chest as he offered you his other arm.

"I'm Peter."

You smiled. "Thank you for saving me, Peter. I'm (Y/n)."

You took it and directed him to your small cottage, the both of you comfortably falling into conversation.

~

Peter watched with adoration as you fussed around your small cottage. It was quaint but comfortable. You had all the necessities but he could tell you were in need of many things. Including thread. He saw your mound of clothes that needed mending but he said nothing. Instead he sent you a smile when you sat down, a few medical supplies in your hands.

You sent him a sweet smile back then took his arm. "Now I can't promise it won't be painless. You have quite a few splinters." You gave him a worried glance and he couldn't help but feel touched at your concern. "You don't have anywhere pressing you need to be do you?"

Peter shook his head and relaxed in his chair. "None that would pull me away from a pretty woman from mending my arm."

He smiled when you blushed but you cleared your throat and scooted closer, getting a better look at his arm. He too looked at it and his eyes widened at the damaged those two hits took. His hand was even a bit red in spots where splinters angered his skin. He watched as you grabbed some small metal pliers and gingerly press around the biggest of the splinters.

You looked up at him and he found he really liked your eyes and how you looked at him. Like he was important. "So. Tell me. What is your family like? Do they miss you while you are visiting our little town?"

Peter smiled and looked around you, trying to think the best way to go around telling you truths without the whole High King part. You worked quickly and gently as you could as he spoke. He liked making you smile and laugh with his stories. He liked being around you. But what he saw in the town bothered him. Greatly.

"(Y/n)? Can you please tell me why they treat you like that? You are clearly not who they say you are."

You sighed then started on his hand, his arm now free of wood shards, slathered with ointment, and bandaged. "I may have imagined it but I remember living in a big house with grand gardens and large amounts of land. My parents would take me here in the summer time, away from all the noise of the rich." You shrugged. "But then they died. Carriage accident on the way here after I came early five years ago. I went to town here for the first time after being told my parents were gone and I tried to look for help but everyone shunned me, saying I was there to watch how the lowly folk lived." You shook your head and sent him a sad smile. "But like I said. I think I may have imagined it all up just to feel better about myself while I'm stuck here."

There was a moo in the distance and you smiled. "Well. I'm not completely alone. I have Tracy."

Peter chuckled. "She seems a faithful companion."

You smiled but fell silent as you finished up on his hand, his arm tingling at your soft touch. That gave peter time to think. He had heard of many carriage accidents. But he was sure he could find record of it if you were right in being rich once before. He hoped to restore you back to your former glory though it didn't take a fine gown and pearls to make you look absolutely beautiful, like a Queen.

But it was in the middle of dinner and one of his stories about Edmond falling off his horse for the tenth time (though you knew not that it was his war horse and during sword practice) that one of Peter's scouts came bounding into the open front door of your home.

"Sire! Excuse my interruption, I have come to collect you. King Edmond has sent word."

Peter glanced at you. A spoon, heavy laden with your delicious soup, was stopped on its way to your mouth. It would have been funny to Peter had he not watched your eyes changing from confusion to realization to.... hurt. You dropped your spoon carefully and stood, bowing to Peter.

"Forgive me, your Highness, for my untoward behavior and for my humble home."

Peter stood too but you had turned to leave, heading in the direction of Tracy and her gentle mooing. Peter let out a breath and followed the scout, thoroughly kicking himself for holding back on his true identity.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Three days should be long enough to get over a liar and a king, but thoughts of Peter filled your mind. You weren't one to believe in love at first sight but his kindness and easy manner made it hard for you to keep your heart sealed.

A knock came at your door and you hurried to open it. Sure enough, there stood Peter, High King Peter. He held out a basket and you took it mutely.

"Here. I thought you might want to have your goods you wanted on your list."

There on the top of the basket was a crumbled but legible piece of paper. Your list. A blush surfaced when you saw the last thing on your list was circled. You looked up at him, question evident in your eyes.

Peter rubbed the back of his neck and you couldn't help but drop a bit of your anger toward him. He was still the same Peter you had talked all day with. Who had saved you from a severe beating?

"I found it after you had tended to my wounds. I thought you might still need what you wanted on that list. All of it."

You placed the goods down and just looked at him.

"I'm sorry my lord, but I don't think I can have everything. I'm sorry you felt you had to do that."

Peter took a step forward and gingerly grasped your upper arms. Fire and another emotion raged through you at his touch.

"(Y/n). I am so sorry from keeping my title from you. But I couldn't help but enjoy my time with you, without having to worry about you shutting me out." He reached up and stroked your cheek. "A shopping list is made in the intentions of having all the things on it, correct."

You nodded.

"Then let me help you get everything."

"Everything?" Your voice was small but he smiled.

"Yes. Everything my sweet (Y/n). I sent a message to my brother and I had him look into the death of your parents. As it turns out you didn't imagine lavish balls and a big house."

Tears rolled down your cheeks and Peter took you into his arms. He stroked your hair as you held onto him, your body fit perfectly with his. You grasped onto him as he told you about your parents and the past life you lived and the title you had forever owned.

"Duchess (Y/n), would you please forgive me and allow me to properly court the woman whom I have thought of at every waking moment the past three days?"

You laughed at that because it was the same for you about him. You pulled away and reached up to stroke his cheek.

"No more secrets?"

Peter shook his head before resting his forehead against yours.

"No more secrets," he whispered.

You smiled and Peter leaned forward capturing your lips gently with his. You lost yourself him his arms and soft kisses of hope and a new beginning.