Princess Margaret was sent off to Terrawyn in a massive procession, and she did not even bother to say goodbye to my brother. Although I am certain that Gilbert must be heartbroken, it is probably for the best that he remains silent. Queen Jane seems to be pleased by Princess Margaret's engagement, as it would strengthen the relations between the two kingdoms, thus making things easier for her unborn child in the future.

The paranoid Queen Jane had initially forced me to test each and every dish served on her table, but Edmund soon got word of this, and he sent over a food-tester, along with the message, 'If you want Lady Winterbourne to take responsibility if any harm were to befall on the prince, then you must also pay the price if my betrothed were to be harmed.'

I witnessed Queen Jane's alabaster skin swiftly turn into a cherry red hue as she barked at the messenger to leave. Throughout the day, she seemed as if she was ready to strangle me and cut off my head, but thankfully she was blissfully silent. Only two days ago she had called Edmund the son of a bastard prince and a common harlot, but today, after being reprimanded by him, she had not voiced a single complaint.

It was only after several days that I finally understood. Word had spread that Edmund of Cindertrappe will soon be appointed as the commander of Phoenicia's army against Lecarre, and Queen Jane's own father, the Marquis of Lansbury had to serve under him, and their family's soldiers were reduced significantly.

My own uncle had retired, and my cousin Benedict was a hopeless man who spent his life squandering around with women and alcohol. It seemed that House of Moreau's days of glory were soon coming to an end, and while it barely affected my family's prosperity, I could not completely turn a blind eye to it, as my mother was born a Moreau, and any humiliation they suffered would also splash onto me. My brother Gilbert was adamant in his decision to participate in the invasion despite my father's reprimand. Gilbert was determined to bring glory to the House of Winterbourne, and he wanted to receive a rank of his own, rather than just inheriting my father's. Lisbeth's husband, the young Count whose father just died, was a scholarly man and had no experience on the battlefield or handling a sword, and thus he will not participate.

"Once Princess Margaret is wedded to Henri du Terre, the forces of Terrawyn and Phoenicia will unite against Lecarre, Annie. This invasion will be highly profitable, but it is far from moral," Edmund whispered to me that night as we stood by the open balcony, allowing the warm spring air to envelop us.

"Then why do you insist to go, Edmund?" I asked him.

"I must win more support, Annie. If this invasion succeeds, the people will stand by my side, rather than that of a prince that hasn't even been born yet, or a king who does nothing for his kingdom other than waging pointless wars," Edmund explained. "The more they love me, the more they will hate him."

I let out a sigh and gazed into his pale green eyes. "But you do know that being more powerful than the king is dangerous, don't you? Your late brother-in-law was a good enough example, Edmund. And how can you stomach fighting alongside the very troops who mutilated him?"

Edmund bent his knees so that he could stand on my eye level, smiling bitterly. "I cannot, Annie. They disgust me. But what can I do now, when I am a mere duke? Once the crown is on my head, Annie, I will invade Terrawyn exactly how they plan to invade Lecarre, and I will put that corrupt King Antonin in his place."

"But he is ailing now, isn't he? By the time we do invade them, wouldn't it be Margaret's husband who sits on the throne?"

He grinned. "Even better, Annie. That fool would be so much easier to deal with than his crook of a father."

Princess Margaret was wedded to Henri du Terre the very day she arrived in Terrawyn, and not even a month had passed before the two kingdoms started to prepare for an invasion. Despite being of noble birth, I rarely ventured out of Phoenicia, and the time I snuck into the back of Edmund's carriage was the first time I went to Terrawyn. I have very little knowledge of what Lecarre is like, and how the Lecarrians live, but it would be certainly awful to be in their shoes.
Two of the realm's largest kingdoms had teamed up to invade them and exploit their riches, and they have no means of fighting back. At this point, surrendering probably promises the best outcome, although I doubt our soldiers would show mercy towards them. Their military was small and undertrained, and they were governed by a child king, Hadrian II of Lecarre, who was merely six years old. His mother had died in childbirth, while his father, the previous king, had died of a broken heart.

The poor boy was alone in this battle, surrounded by his out-of-touch ministers who only cared about expanding wealth, and distant relatives who only came to him when they wanted favours. This made me think about what would have happened if Edmund's father had not been declared illegitimate, and he could have inherited the throne rather than his uncle. At four years old, he was far from ready to be a king, rightful or not. Millions of lives would have been rested in the hands of a mere child who was sheltered and never had to work for a day in his life. Would he know about the child who was the same age as he, who starved to death? What about the child who was forced to beg on the streets just for a morsel of food? And even if he knew, would he care?

Edmund visited the palace increasingly often, and I would sneak out of my chambers at midnight to meet him. Tonight, his brows were set in a deep frown and his eyes full of discontent.

"Is something wrong?" I asked him, and he let out a sigh while covering his face with his hands.

"The king is too much, Annie," he murmured. "He ordered me to kill off the young king, Hadrian. How rotten can one be to order for the death of an innocent child?"

Edmund rested his back against the stone wall and slowly slid down. "He wants me to bring back the child's head on a spike, Annie. How would he feel if someone did that to any of his children?"

I sat down next to his tensing body, and I could see his reluctance to do the dirty deed. "Two of them already died by my hands, Edmund. Oh, if only he knew," I chuckled while staring at my fair, unblemished hands. These hands were stained with so much blood, but to the naked eye, they were pure and pristine.

"Prince George's death was unintended, Annie. You mustn't blame yourself," Edmund said softly. The balcony was awfully cold that night, so I subconsciously scooted closer to him for warmth. He chuckled and lifted his long cloak and draped it over me, and I felt like a chick hiding under a mother hen's wing.

"When are you leaving for Lecarre?" I asked him.

"Very soon, Annie. Probably this week or the next. And I will be gone for quite some time, six months at least," he answered. I nodded grimly, stunned by the realisation that this is truly happening.

"Promise me that you'll look after Gilbert for me," I exclaimed. Besides my father and I, no one really cares for Gilbert's wellbeing. He had very few friends, and the girl he loves even blatantly ignored him. At the very least, I hoped that Edmund would watch out for him and keep him safe.

"Of course, Annie. He will be my brother-in-law in two year's time," Edmund chuckled. Two years. I would be seventeen, and Edmund would be twenty-two. In two years I would be the Duchess of Cindertrappe, but in our uncertain circumstances, doubt had begun to plant its seeds in my heart.

"What if the conflicts are still not over by then, Edmund? What if Lecarre does fight back and declare war on us?" I questioned boldly, but Edmund shook his head and smiled warmly.

"It would not turn out that way. And even if it does, I will still return for you, Annie. But Annie..." he sighed heavily, and his grim expression returned. "This might be the last time we'll meet before I leave. Tomorrow, I must go to the barracks for the final preparations."

"Will I hear from you?"

"It will be hard to write home, with the ongoing battles and all, but I shall try Annie. You will not lose me, so you won't have to worry," he laughed.

I knew that he was afraid and unsure, yet he still smiled for my sake. It was a small, simple gesture, but it made me feel pleased somehow. I then unwrapped the cashmere scarf around my neck and placed it onto his lap. He looked at me in confusion, but I only smiled in return.

" A token of favour, remember?" I said. "I don't have a hair ribbon this time, so this scarf will have to do."

He lifted the periwinkle coloured scarf with floral motifs and wrapped it around his neck. "Do I look pretty, Annie?" he chuckled.

"Very pretty," I laughed softly while the smoothing out the creases on the scarf.

Edmund then drew closer towards me, driving my back to the wall, and he whispered in my ear, "If possible, can I ask for something else as well?"

I was confused by his question, but then I felt his rough fingers stroking my chin, and his eyes were hooded and had darkened considerably. His lips were already so close to my face, and he said, "May I, Annie?"

My heart was beating erratically at the moment, and it never beat so fast before. Before this, my heart only quickened when I felt fear or intense anger, but this new feeling, this new emotion was so foreign to me. The roughness of the tips of his fingers against my skin sent shivers down my spine, and blood swiftly rose up to my cheeks.

"You may," I whispered, and I felt his lips brush against mine slowly. My heart was about to leap out of my chest, and our extremely close proximity made me want to scream, so I closed my eyes shut. Still, I could barely understand how such a mindless action, the simple contact between lips to lips could make me feel such insurmountable feelings. I could not explain it, but that short, fleeting moment made me crave for a lifetime of this, to be showered in his love and care.