Timothée lifted Dahlia up and on the horse. The group of men were approaching but had not spotted them yet. Timothée hopped up behind her and reached around to grasp the reins.

"What if they spot us?" Dahlia questions and they start to ride off.

"They won't," Timothée responded, pushing the horse to go faster.

"What if they find your camp?" She was very nervous about the threat of her father and his men. He seemed to hesitate for a moment, like the words she said hit him.

"They won't." His blunt words echoed in her brain the rest of the way to camp. They made it back safely, but Dahlia felt a sense of uncertainty. It wrapped around her mind and took hold for the remainder of the day, echoing as she slept.

___________

A week passed of routine. Dahlia would wake up, eat, read, and walk around the main part of the camp. She had the pleasure of talking to many people. Though they were part of the revolution and held anger towards her father, they quickly came to adore her. She even got along with Adrian, the blonde boy who dragged her out from the carriage. After lunch, Dahlia would give Nicholas reading lessons. The day would then change into night and Dahlia would have dinner with Timothée. Their conversations consisted of anything under the sun. They never got into heated arguments or hosted dark topics. It was as if the world outside their tent did not exist. This night, however, Dahlia had a request in mind. So while they sat at the wooden table eating their stew, she decided to open up about it.

"I want to see Henry." Dahlia knew they held him somewhere in the camp, but she was never able to find him. Henry is her most trusted guard and childhood friend. He was willing to lay down his life for her that day. She just wanted to see if he is alright. At the mention of his name, Timothee dropped his spoon into his bowl. His gaze lifted to hers.

"Why would you want to see him?" Timothée's voice was guarded and he sat up straighter, letting out a throaty cough. 

"He's my closest friend. I want to know how he's doing." Dahlia adjusted her position, showing that she wasn't going to take no for an answer.

"I cannot deny you that privilege," Timothée started, though he was acting strange, "However, I want you to know he is a war prisoner. My men have... done things to find details about your father's army." Dahlia understood what he was talking about. Torture to make someone reveal secrets was not new to her, but she still cringed at the thought of it happening to Henry. 

"Then take me to him." She spoke with unwavering authority.

"Dahlia, get some rest and we can pick this up in the morning." He tried to brush her off, but she was not going to let this go.

"No." She spoke through gritted teeth. He sighed in annoyance, knowing her stubbornness personality was not going to give up, but rather persist. That's how he found himself outside the prisoner's tent many minutes later, Dahlia standing right beside him. Before she could walk in, he held his arm in front of her. 

"Please, do not hate me for this. I was only doing my duty." He looked in her eyes, trying to show her his emotions. Timothée was never good at telling others about his emotions, but he was good at showing. 

"War is war." Is the simple reply she gave him before sauntering into the tent. He followed after. When Dahlia saw Henry tied to the post in the centre of the room, slouched over and unconscious, bleeding from multiple wounds, her heart stopped. The little boy she ran through the gardens with was now a man. A man so badly injured because of his loyalty to her. She got down to her knees, not caring if the dirty ground stained her dress. Her hand lifted and her nimble fingers brushed against his jawline.

"Henry." Her voice was just above a whisper. He seemed to shake awake and Dahlia backed up slightly in momentary shock. His eyes were wide and alert, full of terror. He then spotted Dahlia and he calmed down. His body slouched more.

"My princess." Henry's voice was rough and scratchy and he coughed after talking. Dahlia let out a melancholy sigh. This was her friend and he was beaten because of her. Timothée watched from behind. His fists clenched at Henry's words. 

"I'm so sorry." She tried to hold back sobs as her eyes took in his bloody and bruised face. The metal armour he once wore was gone and he had a thin white shirt and deerskin pants. The shirt was so stained that only a few patches of white were seen. His pants were torn along with his top. 

"Don't be sorry, princess. I'm okay." Dahlia wanted to scream at him for saying that. He was not fine. A tear escaped her eye and she sucked in a breath, trying to hold in her sobs.

"You've always been so kind." She choked out before letting out a strangled sob.

"You're still so beautiful when you cry." To Dahlia, what Henry said was just a friendly compliment. Timothée however, did not like his comment and stepped forward, getting the attention of Henry.

"Has he hurt you?" Henry directed his comment to Dahlia but kept his gaze on the young rebellion leader.

"Timothée's been nothing but kind to me." Dahlia tried to defend him.

"He is but a lowly peasant hoping to change what can't be changed." Henry spat out. Dahlia stood up and backed up. She was shocked at his words. Timothée stepped forward, his hand gripping the hilt of the sword that was strapped to his waist.

"Scare Dahlia like that again and I won't back down." Timothée threatens. It was the first time Dahlia saw him in a threatening light.

"You don't even have enough respect to address your Highness correctly." Henry pulled at the ropes tied around his waist and holding his hands behind him.

"Henry, I gave him permission." The tent grew quiet after Dahlia's words. No one knew what to say. A minute passed before the silence was broken by Henry.

"So you're friends now?" His tone was mocking, "What about your father?"

"You know I love my father and I will always remain loyal to the people of this kingdom." Dahlia tried defending herself but was becoming overwhelmed. Henry never dared to speak to her like this.

"You don't remain loyal to your father.  Am I wrong?" Henry asked.

"I love my father and-"

"Yet you betray him by associating with this boy!" He cut her off. His chest was rising up and down with pure rage. Dahlia backed up into Timothée's chest. He pulled her behind him and stepped forward. He drew his sword and rested it under Henry's chin.

"How dare you talk to her that way?" Timothée spoke up. Dahlia could feel the tension and anger building up and knew she had to stop it soon or Henry would get hurt. 

"Timothée," Dahlia tried to get his attention, but both of them seemed to be preoccupied with glaring at one another, "Timothée. I think its time we leave." She steps forward and puts her hand on his chest, looking between the two of them. He breaks eye contact with Henry and glances at her. He calmed down at her touch and sheathed his sword. Timothée and Dahlia moved to the entrance of the tent. Timothée opened it for her and was holding it open. Dahlia turned to look at Henry. She wanted to say something. Anything. The words got stuck in her throat. She walked out of the tent and just as he was leaving, Henry called out to her. 

"All good things come to an end." 

_________

When the two got back to their tent, Dahlia stormed off to her room. She needed time to cool down. Timothée was sitting on his cot and writing in his book. A few hours passed and a shadow stood on the other side of the curtain blocking his room from the rest of the tent.

"Timothée?" Dahlia whispered.

"Come in," He tells her. She walks in but is staring at the ground. Her hands were clasped behind her back and she looked nervous, "You should be asleep. It's late."

"You're going to kill my father, aren't you?" Her words were abrupt and Timothée closed his book, placing it down on his bedside table. 

"Dahlia, Its-"

"I'm right. You'll execute him." Dahlia looked straight at him. 

"That's what revolutions are about. Ending the royal line and bringing peace to the people." He tried to steer the conversation into a new light, but she was having none of it. 

"So you'll kill me? I am part of the royal line." Dahlia shifted her weight to her right foot and crossed her arms. 

"Dahlia, you know that won't happen." Timothée tried to reassure her. 

"How do you know?" She questioned him. Timothéee didn't respond. He didn't know what to say. She shook her head in disappointment and left. He sat there, his mouth opening and closing. He wondered what the hell just happened and struggled to grasp it as he lay down to go to bed. 

________

When Dahlia walked into the main room to eat breakfast and didn't see Timothée, she was worried that her words disturbed him. She had no idea what overcame her. The meeting with Henry made her think about things in a new light. She sat down and waited for her meal to be brought in. A man just a few years old walked in with a plate of eggs, bacon, and bread. He placed it down in front of her and stood there. 

"Is there something I can help you with?" Dahlia questioned. She was known around camp to help people. She typically repaired clothes or helped watch children. He stepped towards her and handed her a roll of parchment. She took it and saw that the wax seal held the King's crown. It was her father's symbol.  

"The King sends his regards." The man said before leaving. Dahlia wondered how her father found their camp before it all came to her. The group of men Timothée and Dahlia ran from a week ago. She knew they couldn't have gotten away that easily. He was able to send a spy into camp. She opened the scroll and settled in her seat. 

My darling Dahlia,

My men have been searching for you and you've finally been found. Everything is alright. I've arranged for a group to take you back home. They will be waiting just outside of camp and by the treeline after sunrise. Go there and they will take you back home. Prince Charlie and his royal guard are here. When you get settled in, the wedding will commence. 

After your marriage, we will merge our armies. It is then that we will crush the rebels with all we've got. Whatever they have done to you, do not worry. Everything will come to an end when we execute their leader. I hope to see you soon.

King Edward IV.

Dahlia read the letter over and over again. It was her chance to escape. Go home and do her duty. Yet, when she thought about it, she did not want to go. She wouldn't be able to give Nicholas his reading lessons or joke around with Adrian. She wouldn't see Timothée. The more she thought about it, the worse it got. Everyone in this camp would either die in battle or be executed for treason. Even the kids. It made her want to throw up. These people just want freedom and she finally saw that. 

Later that day, Timothée came back from the training ground. They sat across from one another and ate their dinner. It was silent for a while before he brought a cloth up to his mouth and patted away some sauce. 

"How was your day?" He questioned her. Every fibre in Dahlia's body screamed at her to tell him. She slammed her fork on the table and let out a loud sigh. He raised his eyebrows at her. 

"He knows where we are." The words flew from her mouth. 

"What?" Timothée questioned. 

"My father, he knows where we are."