Archive of Our Own

It started as an obvious dig. 

Apo was well aware of her tendency to snap at the slightest grievance, and even more aware of the fact that her fellow kingdom members knew that too. In Soluna, at the very least, the knights with whom she was closest had the basic decency not to prod at certain topics. The Red Kingdom didn’t have such boundaries between its ranks. 

“So, you and Princess Cherri, huh?”

Sausage was not, in all honesty, the most tolerable conversationalist. He was brash, crude, and sometimes altogether mean. But he could not be avoided. Cam was often asleep these days, and while Apo could repair tools easily, enchanting them was not within her wheelhouse. They were a fool, really, for allowing their pickaxe to shatter in the first place. The whole matter could have been avoided had she simply paid more attention to the health of her tools. 

They didn’t know where this particular line of questioning was going to go. Sausage was a wild card in every sense. Spear by their side, Apo waited to hear any verbal offenses towards their charge. “What about the princess and me?”

“Oh, nothing, nothing,” Sausage sighed, in that tone of his that implied there certainly was something. Silence settled for exactly one second, and then he piped up again. “It’s just that… Y’know, you’re awfully calm about the types of people your princess is associating with…”

“The… types of people?” Apo raised a brow. Slowly, she untensed, solidly confused. “I don’t see why the princess’ companions are of any concern to me. Unless… you know of a plot to harm her?”

The knight ran through a list of names in their head, counting off every face she’d seen enter Cherri’s vicinity in the whole of the time they’d been there. None seemed like the type to try to go after a princess of Soluna, but how much could she really account for? They’d been acquainted for only a couple of weeks. There was still time to discover one was a spy for their enemy. 

“Harm her? No, no, no,” the mage tutted. “It’s not that. People like the princess too much to want to hurt them. Loosen up.”

Apo breathed a subtle sigh of relief. Just another irritating conversation starter from Sausage, then. An attempt to get a rise out of the knight. He was very good at that. Even right then, Sausage was flipping far too slowly through the enchanted pages of the book on the table before him — wasting valuable minutes was another thing he knew bothered Apo, and he was not afraid to employ it. 

“Although, that’s where the real problem comes in,” Sausage continued. “People like her too much.”

Apo scoffed, “Oh really? And why’s that an issue?”

“Hey, it’s none of my business,” the mage declared, before leaning in and lowering his voice. When next he spoke, it was in a whisper, so no outside ears could hear. “Is that really appropriate for royalty?”

The knight froze. She opened her mouth, closed it, and opened it again. “I don’t… see why it wouldn’t be. And I also don’t know why that would be any of my concern. I am Cherri’s protector, not her keeper.”

Sausage snorted. “Well, if you want to keep her, then you better start having some foresight.”

The word play was lost on Apo, who had only grown more confused.

“Look,” Sausage sighed, clearly disappointed. “You’re her protector, right? Doesn’t that include — I don’t know — her honor, her dignity, and her image?”

“It does.”

“And yet you aren’t at all worried about the possibility of your princess catching the eye of a great many suitors while you’re here? She is quite the sight.”

Apo’s world came to a screeching halt. 

Their expression darkened, and their blade was aimed at the mage’s neck before Sausage even had a chance to draw another breath. He raised his arms placatingly, a nervous tilt to his smile. “Not me! Not me! I am not interested!” 

“What nonsense are you spouting?” Apo’s jaw was clenched, hands itching to slice. “Gossip about royalty is highly treasonous.”

“I’m not gossiping, as much as I would rather be doing that,” Sausage insisted. He folded his hands in front of himself, begging. “Spare me! I was only warning you. You ought to be careful!”

“Thanks, but it isn’t necessary. That’s not a concern with Cherri,” the knight replied. “The princess of Soluna wouldn’t accept attempts at courtship from anyone below her station. Royalty has very strict rules.”

Sausage’s face was wiped clean of its nerves, replaced with a judgemental blankness. He sighed again, long and wavering. Apo startled when the man suddenly disappeared in a poof of purple particles. On high alert, she whirled around, intent on scouring the rest of the room. Thankfully, she didn’t have to. The mage had teleported a few feet behind her to rest in a tall armchair. 

“That may be so,” Sausage hummed. “But we’re not in Soluna, are we?”

Apo sneered. “Doesn’t matter.”

“Doesn’t it?” 

Sausage pointed to a nearby window, and the curtains were yanked apart by an unseen force. Early morning sunlight flooded the building, revealing the kingdom’s square in its full glory. Cherri was chatting on a bench with Katie and Nom. Despite the tensions between their two opposing sides, none seemed to care. They pulled out dice and began to farkle.

Soluna was good to its princess, but back home, the fraternization of knights and royalty had far more limitations. This interaction would never have happened. Cherri knew the boundaries just as well, if not more so than Apo herself. Yet, the princess had slipped into casual friendship as if they had never existed. 

Apo… could not. No matter how hard she attempted to keep her blood pressure low and her thoughts mundane, the mere idea of being casual around her ward was unnerving. It went against everything she believed in, everything she’d been raised believing, everything she’d been trained to protect for years. Soluna’s rules practically ran through her blood.

But it was as Sausage said. This wasn’t Soluna. Obviously, the princess had no trouble adjusting to the change in scenery. A mere guard should be better at adjusting. For the sake of it, they tried it again now. With a deep breath in, they let their imagination conjure up a scene in which they joined the three on the bench — their shoulders pressing into Cherri’s like familiar touch didn’t concern them, smiling and laughing like they weren’t meant to be alert at all times. 

Her cheeks flushed, and she pulled her gaze from the window. “What’s your point, mage?”

“You’re clueless.” Sausage stated bluntly. “Soluna’s standards for royalty hold no weight here. But even if they did, and Cherri was only allowed to bat her eyelashes at fellow royalty, I should remind you that anyone can be a monarch here. That just depends on the will of the spirits.”

Apo felt the space behind her ribs twist. An unidentifiable emotion filtered in. It wasn’t quite fear, but it felt similar enough. 

They could deduce its cause, if nothing else — King Ren. 

Should the princess be put in an undesirable situation that Apo could have prevented, the king would have her head. And while he loved his daughter dearly, perhaps more than he loved his kingdom, exceptions were difficult to make when it came to the rules. At the very least, as the only heir to the throne, Cherri wouldn’t be allowed to fall for a person who was not loyal to Soluna, royalty or not.

“If you don’t do something soon,” Sausage taunted. “A real knight in shining armor will come by to sweep her off her feet.”

Apo took another glance out the window. She saw Katie leaning closer to the princess, and Nom grabbing the dice out of her hands without waiting for her to pass them along. Regular, familiar closeness between all of them. They were only friends, as far as Apo was aware, but how easily could that change? 

Hell, hadn’t Nom bragged about winning Cherri’s hand in farkle just the other day? He didn’t mean in a marriage sense then, but who was to say another person wouldn’t take a page out of his book? What would Apo do to fix that? What would Apo be able to do without hurting Cherri in turn?

Prevention — that was the only tactic. Sausage was right for once in his life. She had to have more foresight for issues like these. Should Cherri get involved with someone else romantically, it’d be too late for Apo to do anything.

There was just one problem left.

“How exactly does one prevent potential suitors?”

Sausage’s eyes lit up, like he’d been waiting all his life to hear that question. 

“Without killing every single person Cherri speaks to,” Apo clarified. “Obviously.”

He lost some of that spark. “Right, right, you’re incapable of doing anything fun. That’s fine. I still have an idea.”

“What kind of idea?”

The mage jumped out of his armchair to take Apo’s hands. She leaned back, though it hardly dissuaded Sausage from pushing closer. Mischief and excitement practically bled from every part of him. Suddenly, voicing any of her thoughts felt like a horrible mistake. King Ren’s wrath looked like a far better alternative to whatever this guy had going on.

“Think about it,” Sausage prompted. “What is the number one reason why you wouldn’t pursue someone?”

“Uh,” Apo thought about it. “Because it would distract me from my mission of protecting the princess?”

“Oh.” The mage’s smile became strained. Gently, he patted the back of Apo’s hand, as if soothing someone after a great loss. “I was hoping you would say, ‘because they’re already taken,’ but everybody’s different.” 

“Well, yeah, of course,” Apo scoffed, yanking away. “A person that already has a partner couldn’t even be considered as a possible—”

She went still.

“No,” she whispered. “No, there’s no way you’re suggesting that.”

“Ah, except I am,” Sausage cackled. “What’s the matter? It’s just another knightly duty isn’t it? Just another way for you to protect her? Are you saying there’s lengths you wouldn’t go for the sake of your princess?”

Apo sputtered, “I didn’t say—!”

A laugh caught her attention. It was muffled by the window, but clear as day to Apo. She followed the sound to see Cherri still hanging out with her two friends. Only… they weren’t playing farkle anymore. Their game had changed. Katie was bowing before her, a flower in her extended hand. Cherri’s smile was wide, eyes practically sparkling. 

A wave of dizziness suddenly struck the knight. Their heart pounded in their throat, threatening to break free. Cherri accepted the flower, tucking it behind her ear, and Apo had to plant her feet to keep from running out the door. 

Sausage hooked an arm over their shoulder. “It would be so easy to stop this if the others thought you two were a pair.”

What a method. It was something straight out of a storybook — pretending to be the princess’ partner to ensure she never married someone else. Easily, as Sausage had said, that could be achieved with minimal effort. The two kingdoms loved gossip. A simple comment dropped in front of Scott, and a good chunk of people would know before the hour was up.

They would know that Cherri and Apo were courting. They would know that every time they caught the knight fondly gazing upon the princess, it was done for far more reasons than just duty. They would know that every time the knight lingered for a split second too long after kissing the princess’ hand, it was an admission. They would know everything that Apo had done their best to repress for ages.

And none of it would be real.

“I couldn’t,” Apo whispered. “I don’t deserve… No one would believe us.”

Sausage raised a brow. Out of her peripherals, Apo watched him look her up and down, before scoffing, “Trust me, you play the part of a yearning lover perfectly.”

Apo swallowed and forced herself to glance away. It took several seconds for their heart to cease its ache. When it did, they stepped back over to the enchantment table with a glare. “Finish the job already. I have places to be.”

Sausage shrugged. He joined her by the table, glancing halfheartedly at the book. The current page seemed to be good enough in his eyes, because he lifted the pickaxe, and uttered words in a language Apo didn’t speak. It flashed with purple light, and when it faded, a glittery shine had overtaken it. 

The knight left the second it was handed over, storming out the door and into the kingdom center. Sausage tried to call after them, but they would not listen to him any longer. The only thing that stopped Apo’s hasty retreat was the sight of the other three. 

Cherri, Nom, and Katie hadn’t noticed Apo quite yet, but their amusement had evolved. The redheaded knight was twirling the princess around, belting some song that didn’t exist in Soluna. Nom had started another farkle game with a townsperson, but watched them in between his turns with a wide smile. 

Apo observed from afar, conflicted. It wasn’t until Katie’s improvised song reached its crescendo and she began to dip Cherri that something possessed the onlooker to approach. Perhaps a bit too loudly, she called, “Excuse me?”

Katie shrieked, nearly dropping the princess. Luckily, Cherri’s arms were wrapped around the back of her neck, which kept them from falling. The two hastily straightened, brushing themselves off. They looked guilty, like they’d been caught in the middle of getting into trouble — the princess less so. Nom was, understandably, indifferent to Apo’s presence. 

Apo paused in front of her charge, scanning both her and Katie closely. Their cheeks were flushed from exertion, eyes alight, and smiles secretive. The sensation that drove Apo to step closer to Cherri and grab her hand was rooted in envy. It twisted and expanded as she brought the princess’ knuckles to her lips for the briefest of kisses.

“Apologies for interrupting your fun,” Apo said, using all her training to keep her expression calm and pleasant. Evidently, her lack of a negative reaction surprised Cherri. The princess stared at them, mouth open like she’d been about to speak. 

“No, no, it’s…” Cherri trailed off, a little quieter than was natural for her. “It’s fine. We were only messing around.”

Apo chanced a look at the other two present. Nom and Katie had identical raised brows, and both were watching the interaction closely. It was obvious they’d picked up on the abnormalities in the way Apo was behaving. Their curiosity would leave them susceptible to quick conclusions. 

What the hell, a little voice in the knight’s head chimed, sounding suspiciously like a certain mage. It’s now or never!

“I’m glad you were enjoying yourself.” Apo lowered Cherri’s hand as she spoke, but pointedly did not release it. “I was just going to go mining. Would you want to accompany me, by chance?”

Cherri blinked down at their hands, and sucked in a sharp breath. “Yeah, yes, sure, sounds great. I should, uh… go grab my pickaxe from the house. I’ll be right back.”

Without giving a chance for anyone to interject, the princess took off in the direction of their shared home. Apo was left alone with the other two knights, both of whom were already watching her. 

“Katie.”

Katie sucked in a sharp breath. “Yes, Apo?”

“If ever you almost drop my princess again,” Apo hummed, remaining pleasantly neutral. “I’ll cut off one of your fingers and mail it back to Soluna as penance.”

Katie shuddered, clutching her hands together like Apo was already looming over her with the knife. She took a step back at the same time as Nom moved forward. 

“Threatening your own kingdom members,” he tutted. “Does Soluna encourage that kind of relationship between their knights?”

He had a gleam in his eye that he got quite frequently around Katie — protective and itching for a fight. Apo eyed him as he approached, posture straight and lax. Not primed for a fight, but not exactly without hostility.

“Other Moon Knights understand the importance of protecting their charges,” Apo replied easily. “Making threats for the sake of my princess’ safety is always the exception.”

“Your princess,” Nom scoffed. “Why do you keep calling them your princess?”

There it was — Apo’s opportunity.

She tilted her head, allowing a small smile to tip her lips upward. “Because she is,” Apo said, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. “She’s mine.”

 Nom and Katie both straightened, expressions dropping into matching looks of dawning realization. They could have been twins with how similar their reactions were. Katie lifted a hand to cover her mouth, and Nom placed his palm over his forehead. All the while, neither of them offered the least bit of verbal feedback. 

Apo’s chest swelled with pride. It hadn’t been a horrible thing to say, and in a way, it wasn’t a lie either. Cherri was hers, in the same way she was Cherri’s — a knight to her princess. It could, however, be easily misinterpreted. Exactly as Apo had hoped, Nom and Katie took the bait. Stunned to silence, their arrogance quelled, it seemed like these two would not pose a threat to Cherri’s wellbeing romantically ever again. Whether they had intentions or not to begin with, now they’d never be allowed to fester in the slightest. 

“Apokuna!”

Cherri waved from a few paces down the path. Apo did not hesitate to join them, basking in the warmth of their return. “Got your pickaxe?”

“Mhm, I’m ready,” Cherri confirmed. She glanced at her friends, probably planning to bid them farewell, and hesitated. Nom and Katie had not ceased their bafflement. It was the longest, quite frankly, Apo had ever seen either of them manage to stand still. “Uh, what’s wrong with those guys?”

“Don’t know. They’re always a bit strange, in my opinion,” Apo mused. Cherri’s frown did not lessen at the joke. Sighing, the knight took their princess’ hand, gently tugging her in the direction of the caves. “Come on. If we stay here for too long, we won’t be back in time for dinner.”

For reasons the knight didn’t entirely understand, the second they touched her, Cherri’s attention honed in on that connection. It was as if her mind was wiped clean. They nodded dazedly and followed. 

It was only when they’d made it to a worthwhile cave entrance that Apo released Cherri’s hand to descend first. A couple zombies waited at the bottom, which they quickly dispatched. 

Although, looking back, Apo must have been too eager to take care of something as trivial as a physical threat, because Cherri asked, “Is something wrong, Apo?”

Apo stiffened. Slowly, she did her best to turn a smile in her princess’ direction. “Of course! Why do you ask?”

“I don’t know…” Cherri trailed off, leaning against one of the cave walls. Absently, they touched the hand that Apo had grabbed earlier. “You’re acting weird today.”

“Acting weird?”

Apo hadn’t thought they were behaving all that differently. Sure, she’d played into her plan, but the majority of the oddities were done while Cherri wasn’t around. The rest of her actions were fairly commonplace for their relationship. Granted, kissing the princess’ hand in greeting was more formal than was required, but it was far from the first time. 

The knight stared at their princess, trying to connect the dots. Cherri continued to rub circles over her palm. The tips of her ears were red, and her gaze avoided Apo. Begrudgingly, the princess offered slightly more, “You don’t usually… grab my hand when I’m not in active danger.”

Apo blinked. They opened their mouth, closed it, opened it again. Heat rose to her cheeks.

She collapsed to the ground in a kneel, head bowed as deeply as she could physically allow. 

“I-I apologize, Your Highness,” Apo stammered. “I was disrespectful. I know better.”

Casually touching a member of the royal family could be, under certain circumstances, a serious offense. Soluna’s knights were trained in proper etiquette. These practices had been shoved down her throat since she was young. Exceptions were solely to be made at the invitation of the royal, during greetings, or when facing danger. 

But what they’d done earlier fell into none of those categories. Grabbing Cherri’s hand just to lead her to a cave — what had she been thinking? Hadn’t Apo just scolded herself inwardly when imagining this scenario beside Sausage? Wasn’t it only minutes ago that they’d concluded it was best not to fall into bad habits?

“Apo, no, I wasn’t–! Get up!” Cherri groaned, cutting herself off. Apo felt a hand on the back of her collar, tugging at her. Hesitantly, Apo did as they were told. They kept their eyes down, though this seemed to irritate Cherri further. “Look at me.”

The knight struggled a bit more to follow this order. Her face was still hot, almost to the point of being unbearable. More devastatingly, however, was the fact that Cherri didn’t seem upset with them. Annoyed, maybe, but the majority of the princess’ expression was filled with worry. 

“I didn’t mean it was a bad thing,” Cherri said, softer now that Apo was meeting her eyes. “You can, like, grab my hand or whatever. It really isn’t a big deal.”

The knight frowned. “You don’t… mind?”

“No, not at all,” the princess insisted. She swayed forward into Apo’s personal space, the latter nearly jumping as their fingers intertwined. Cherri’s hand was so warm. “If anything, I like it. I like—”

Cherri stopped rather abruptly. They squeezed their eyes shut, seeming to deliberate a bit. When she met Apo’s gaze again, something sheepish had taken over her smile. 

“I like… being friendly with you,” they said finally. “I know this isn’t how things are done in Soluna, but y’know, we’re not in Soluna. Why don’t we just relax for a while?”

“You,” Apo struggled. “You want to do this more?”

“Yeah.” Cherri squeezed their hand. “If that’s alright with you.”

Apo stared down at her princess. Behind her ribs, a fire burned, steady and true. It’d been there for longer than the knight could remember, even before they’d left Soluna together. Every time their eyes met, their hands brushed, their conversations overlapped, it grew brighter. And Cherri, for all her attempts at harnessing her magic, had no idea the power she already held over Apo.  

“It is,” Apo replied. “More than alright.”

Cherri smiled. “Cool.”

“Cool.” The knight stared for probably a beat too long, before returning to her right mind and clearing her throat. “Shall we get to mining?”

When Cherri said Apo was allowed to initiate casual touch with her, the princess definitely hadn’t intended for it to be used as part of a scheme. 

In her defense, neither had Apo. It was just a rather unfortunate coincidence that the most certain way to enforce the idea of Cherri being unavailable was through subtle touch. Apo found herself taking their princess by the hand more often, letting their fingers brush when passing items along, or slinging an arm over their shoulder whenever they told a particularly good joke. 

And it worked, for the most part! Katie and Nom tended to leave room for Apo by Cherri’s side, and the others in Red had been shooting knowing looks their way since the knight had begun this venture. Sausage had given her an impressed thumbs up once, though she didn’t count that towards her victories. 

If she were being entirely honest, Apo felt weird. It was an adjustment on its own to allow herself to be casual around the princess, but now she was also grappling with the fact that their peers viewed them as being romantically involved. They gazed at Apo and Cherri and genuinely reached the conclusion that the two were a match. 

The mere idea made the knight’s gut twist and heat rise in her cheeks.

Although, this fake change in their relationship hadn’t actually changed very much at all. No one teased Apo more than usual, or made inappropriate comments about the nature of their alleged feelings. Everyone steered carefully around the topic, as if it were fragile. 

Frogue had tried on one occasion. The Red Kingdom had been gathered in the mage’s guild around a table, discussing new blueprints made by Sausage. Building projects had gone relatively smoothly lately, so he was stepping it up a level with his detailing. A meeting with everyone present wasn’t necessary, but it had its benefits. 

Apo wasn’t entirely present during the discussion. Besides the building of her temporary home for herself and her princess, construction had little to do with her. Cherri was paying attention, though. They were watching Sausage closely, taking notes of the different materials needed for a new section of the wall. 

The mage noticed her concentration as well, and when it came time to designate tasks, he gave Cherri more than what he gave the others. Apo hadn’t been surprised. The princess could complete things quickly, and someone eager to help would make the construction process more bearable. 

However, the princess obviously hadn’t been anticipating so much responsibility coming her way. Cherri controlled her expression, didn’t let their anxiety show on their face, but their finger had begun to tap against the table. Aside from Apo, no one else seemed to notice. 

Trying not to bring any attention towards it, the knight quietly took Cherri’s hand and simply held it. The princess shot her a grateful look. It was simple, innocent, just a gesture of comfort. Apo hadn’t thought such a little action would draw more eyes than the anxious tapping had.

Frogue, who had been silent since long before the meeting started, suddenly croaked, “Well, look at you little lovebirds. When did this start?” 

Apo tensed.

The meeting paused, everyone at the table hearing that. One by one, Apo saw their gazes dart to the pair’s intertwined hands. Then, like clockwork, every single person took to glaring at Frogue, including — to the immediate surprise of Apo — Cherri. 

“Woah.” His eyes went wide, and he leaned back in his chair far enough that it was at risk of tipping. “Something on my face?”

The room remained silent for several seconds, only Apo and Frogue left to look around in confusion. Cherri gripped the former’s hand like she was worried her knight would let go. 

She wasn’t necessarily wrong. It took everything in Apo not to yank away at that moment. Being so blatantly referred to as ‘lovebirds’ in front of the princess ran the risk of jeopardizing their whole plan. There wasn’t a single chance Cherri would approve of Apo warding off suitors this way, so her catching wind of certain rumors would spell the end.

God, Apo was stupid. This was her own fault. Frogue hadn’t been someone she’d paid much attention to when it came to privately convincing folks. Especially since there wasn’t any danger of Cherri falling for his peculiar charms. The knight had expected that he’d hear about it eventually through the others, but neglected to take into account how little time he truly spent in the kingdom. 

A disaster of her own making. She hadn’t even been attempting to further the misconception this time! It’d been a simple act of good will, done to support her charge while she was feeling overwhelmed. Now, Cherri looked off-put, and the entire meeting had been disrupted.

Thankfully, Apo did not have to deal with the pressure for very long. Ser Bek pushed back her chair, and with a steely coldness usually reserved for political encounters with the Blue Kingdom, she insisted Frogue have a word with her out in the hall. 

Instantly — almost too quickly — the mood shifted back to normal, like nothing had happened. Sausage returned to yapping, Kitty batted at the feather on his hat, Katie hummed a song under her breath, Cam wiped at a smudge on his glasses, and while Cherri did not release Apo’s hand, she did relax slightly. 

Only Apo remained tense. She kept waiting for the casual air to drop, for Cherri to realize what was going on, for her princess to despise her for spreading such vulgar rumors about them. After all, she was the Princess of Soluna, the sole heir, the ruler of day and night, the sun herself.

And in comparison, who was Apo? A knight with a questionable background. A knight that didn’t know her place. A knight that kept crossing boundaries. A knight that was deceiving her charge every second of every day. 

At the very most, she was Cherri’s protector, her unconditional ally, her friend, but she wasn’t anything more. The princess would never see her as anything more. It wasn’t even worth hoping for anything more. 

This ruse was as close as Apo could get. Maybe that was why she feared its end so immensely. Maybe that was why she spent the rest of the meeting tense, even though Ser Bek and Frogue never came back. Maybe that was why she couldn’t tear her eyes away from Cherri’s hand in hers. Apo savored the sensation, waiting for it to leave them for good.

But it didn’t. Cherri didn’t call them out, didn’t pull them aside, not even once the meeting was over. The day had gone on as if Frogue’s comment was never made. And since then, no one from their kingdom had dared bring up their relationship so explicitly. 

Once or twice, Apo thought she saw a couple members of the Blue Kingdom — 4C and Mae specifically — snickering when her hand found Cherri’s during a walk, but a single look from the princess had quieted them. She could be fearsome when she wanted to be.

Either way, after the incident with Frogue, Apo could not ignore the Blue rogues’ reactions. If they saw Cherri and Apo’s casual closeness as a spectacle, they might draw negative attention towards Apo’s ruse. She decided it’d be best to be a little more deliberate about the spreading of information. Nom obviously hadn’t gossiped the way she’d hoped, which meant there was still room for suitors to come for Cherri from that kingdom. 

Luckily, since it was Blue and not people the princess hung out with regularly, Apo could afford to be a bit more forward with the communication of her point. She singled out two fellow knights, Owain and Graecie, as the first recipients of her secretive information. They were people that she could easily catch alone without raising suspicion.

Neither of them were massively a concern to Apo, all things considered. Graecie and Shan were connected at the hip and Owain was… Owain… so they doubted either of them would go for the princess. However, given their roles in the kingdom, both were prone to different forms of gossiping. Graecie could be predicted to share everything with Shan, who spoke to each member of Blue frequently, and Owain was loyal enough to his crown to see knowledge of the enemy’s interpersonal relationships as valuable information to share with his allies. 

In lieu of blindsiding the two with any sudden reveals, Apo opted to plant seeds of curiosity in her two targets for a few days beforehand. Anytime they were out with Cherri and either Owain or Graecie were in the vicinity, Apo would find a reason to intertwine their fingers, or pick fallen leaves from Cherri’s hair. 

During moments such as those, the princess seemed to pause. It was evident that neither she nor her knight were quite used to being casually close to one another yet. The setback with Frogue was sure to have elevated both of their awareness. The knight, at least, was far too cognizant of her princess. Apo had to be careful not to lose herself in the midst of it all, lest her eyes linger upon the princess’ lips for a second too long. 

For the most part, she managed just fine. However, once she found herself becoming comfortable in her ability to act, she accidentally lost a bit of that necessary caution. It took another slip-up for Apo to remember that her mind was capable of betraying her.

The day had been relatively uneventful up until that point. Apo was promenading with their princess through the kingdom’s gate and towards the trader’s boat. Catching the gleam of armor against the sun, the knight spotted Owain on the other side of the river, also seemingly heading towards the boat. No one else was around.

Eager to capitalize on such a perfect opportunity, Apo had concocted a last-minute plan. 

As they arrived on the bank of the river, the knight tugged at Cherri’s hand. Gently, they pulled them away from the lily pads. The princess turned to face her, brow raised in confusion, but Apo was already moving. Her hand came up to cup at Cherri’s cheek, thumb brushing at the spot beneath her eye. With a slight tipping of her head, the knight brought herself mere inches from her princess’ lips. 

It was a bold move, to be sure, but convincing Owain was a difficult matter, and would require a rather heavy-handed approach. Physical nearness and unmistakably romantic behavior were the two factors most likely to work. The biggest risk rested in Cherri’s perception of this action. Apo believed herself capable of talking her way out of suspicion, and failed to predict any other potential mishaps.

Leaning in long enough to be seen by Owain — that was all Apo had meant to do. 

Unfortunately, the second the knight pulled Cherri close, something within their psyche cracked. One visible, blue eye gazed up at them, irises interwoven with the purest silver. Sunlight warmed her complexion, reddening her cheeks and the tips of her ears. Pink lips parted around a sharp intake of breath.

Apo couldn’t help but think about how easy it would be to dip down and steal the air right from her lungs. 

Cherri had gone still. Her chest, pressed against Apo’s own, rose and fell rapidly. Their hand squeezed the knight’s ever so slightly. Apo watched, enrapt, as Cherri’s gaze trailed down and back up. A quiet prayer followed, nearly inaudible through the pounding of their hearts, as the princess whispered, “Please, Apo.”

Reality struck at the sound of her voice. 

Apo realized their proximity, realized their daydreaming, realized how close they’d been to crossing that treacherous line. She swallowed back any unseemly urges and forced herself to pull away. 

Despite the warmth of the day, a chill rushed in to fill the space in Apo’s orbit that Cherri had once occupied. They paid it no mind, clearing their throat. “Apologies,” she croaked. “You had an eyelash, so I, uh… removed it.”

Cherri stared, unmoving. She blinked once, twice, a third time, and a shaky laugh tumbled out of her. The princess took a step back. “Right,” they said. “Right, I understand. Thank you, Apokuna.”

Then, without another word, Cherri turned and started towards home again, the boat forgotten. Apo opened her mouth to call out, but wasn’t entirely sure why. It felt a little like she’d done something wrong. 

Which was to be expected, of course, wasn’t it? She was abusing the princess’ good will for the benefit of her scheme. Apo had lingered too close for too long, and their excuse hadn’t been good enough. 

The knight sighed, checking over her shoulder for Owain. To her dismay, he was nowhere to be seen. Either he’d gotten what he wanted and left, or he’d not been heading towards the boat at all. There was no way to tell if her disastrous plan worked. 

When she returned home to her princess later, Cherri had resumed their normal countenance — no sign of the earlier upset. They were as friendly and polite as ever.

Either way, it was clear to Apo from that point onwards that they needed to be a little more careful with their actions. None of this could be considered a selfless deed to protect their princess if they strayed too close to their own desires. That would only hurt the both of them.

Apo did not give up on her plan to spread the roots of her scheme into Blue. She found that it was easier to plant the seed with Graecie than it was with Owain. As opposed to the masked knight, the elf was an expressive person, whose interest visibly piqued anytime Apo inserted herself into Cherri’s personal space. 

It really wasn’t hard to get Graecie’s attention. While the knight did her best not to cross any lines with her charge, nothing stopped her from setting up her farkle tables right next to Cherri’s when they played, or paying her tab at the Rue Bar before the princess could. Graecie was always aware of her surroundings, and thus, always aware of every little thing Apo did. The knight could always feel eyes on the back of their head when she was around — a fact that had once unnerved them, but now served to work in their favor.

When the day finally arrived in which only Owain, Apo, and Graecie were awake and moving around, the Red knight was completely confident. 

The three were brought together via an innocent suggestion from Apo that they do a few matches in the arena. It was something the knights from both kingdoms all did regularly if no one was busy. Throwing out the invitation wasn’t even the slightest bit abnormal. 

Owain and Graecie both accepted, and joined Apo by the arena within the hour. Almost immediately, it became obvious that Graecie was just as excited to catch Apo alone as the schemer herself happened to be. She practically buzzed with an energy that betrayed her underlying curiosity. Apo was sure the elf would be making it her mission that day to weasel some information out of them. She had no idea how willing they were to give it to her.

The arena started out easy. Working their way up through the difficulties was their usual pattern, stopping only once a mage was required at the highest level. 

Apo couldn’t say she’d had many expectations for the form in which Graecie’s questions would come. However, once they were tumbling out of the elf’s mouth, far sooner than anyone might have anticipated, Apo realized she’d imagined the other having a lot more tact. Maybe a subtle suggestion between rounds, or the sharing of an anecdote that might lead towards the knights opening up about romance. 

They got none of that. 

While both she and Graecie were striking at the side of a bear, Owain tanking blows at the front, the Blue knight had simply looked at her and blurted, “So, are you and the princess… y’know?”

Thoroughly surprised by the suddenness, Apo missed a crucial blow, allowing the beast to gain more traction. Owain grunted as his shield was hit a little harder as a result. “Get your head out of the clouds,” he shouted at them. “Talk later!”

“We can multi-task,” Graecie shouted back. Out of the corner of Apo’s eye, they felt the elf staring, awaiting their response. The fact that the three were in the middle of quite a heated battle seemed of no concern to her. She still struck out and landed significant hits, but it was done with a sort of unconscious ease that must have come with hundreds of years of practice. The whole of her focus was on this topic.

The topic that Apo, unfortunately, needed zero distractions to be able to address. She waited for the precise moment, right as the beast was gnashing at Owain’s shield, and stabbed her weapon through its soft spot. The bear roared as its heart was pierced. The ground shook with the force of it furiously stomping backwards, before it collapsed under its own weight, dead. 

Apo panted, and yanked her spear free. This enemy vanquished, the three should have immediately charged after the remaining vindicators on the far side of the arena. Instead, however, Graecie leaned against her spear and leveled Apo with a look that seemed to scream, ‘Tell me.’

The Red knight, despite intentionally setting this discussion up, flushed a bit. The whole situation felt a little like a parent trying to interrogate their kid about some girl they liked at school. 

“Really?” Owain glanced between them — expression impossible to see and yet oh-so clearly filled with baffled confusion. He was half turned away, likely having expected them to continue on to the next enemy as they normally did. “We’re stopping in the middle of a fight to chit-chat?”

“Yes, we are,” Graecie decided. Her hand shot out quickly, faster than anyone could react, and latched onto his armored wrist. Owain was kept in place, forced to witness the answer to the other’s question, whether he wanted to or not. He let out a loud guffaw, but was ignored. “Anyway, Apo… you and the princess? Mind indulging me a little more about that?”

Willing her flushed cheeks to lessen, Apo pretended not to be affected by the elf’s curiosity. It might have been the most upfront way she’d been asked about the nature of their relationship before, but these things were not supposed to phase her. Too many blushes and choppy sentences could cause harm to her ruse. Were they truly romantically entangled, there would be absolutely no shame in admitting as much out loud, so the knight could not waver here.

Taking a deep breath, they donned their best imitation of a level-headed person. 

“Hm? There isn’t a whole lot to say,” they replied. While the three stood around, she took the opportunity to wipe some blood from her spear tip. “Only that it is exactly as you are implying.”

Graecie’s eyes lit up. It looked like a fire had been ignited under her, given how she jumped to shriek her congratulations. “Oh, I’m so happy to hear that!”

Her hands landed upon Owain’s shoulders, and he had to plant his feet so as not to topple over as she leapt up and down. The lion grumbled, “What is all this fuss about? What could possibly be pressing enough to interrupt our victory?”

Graecie ceased her celebrations immediately. Apo thought they saw the elf’s eye twitch. Still, ever positive, Graecie cleared her throat and tried to explain, “Apo and her princess are… you know…”

“I’m afraid I do not.” Owain crossed his arms over his chest. “Please speak in full sentences. I am not in the business of entertaining subtext.”

Graecie glanced at Apo for help, but the Red knight simply gestured for her to go on. Partially because this was amusing, and partially because she wasn’t certain she could manage to choose the right words without stammering heavily. To her credit, the elf did not give up. 

“They’re… involved with one another,” Graecie said, as bluntly as she could manage. “Courting, even.”

Owain tipped his chin upwards, growing quiet. He seemed to ponder this, glancing between Graecie and Apo several times. After a minute, he drew in a deep breath, and the elf leaned forward, desperation and hope blooming in her eyes.

“I hardly see what the happenings of the Solunian courts have to do with our arena match.”

Graecie slumped. All the energy drained from her. 

“Come on,” Owain called as he broke away from them to head towards the fight once more. “Let’s finish this nonsense.”

The two watched him saunter off, evidently none-the-wiser to Apo and Cherri’s alleged courtship. 

“Goodness gracious… He’s maddening,” Graecie sighed, exasperated. She placed a reassuring hand on the Red knight’s shoulder, though it felt almost like she just needed a crutch to lean on. “Try not to take it to heart. At the very least, I’m rooting for you guys. I know it’s been a long time coming now.”

Apo paused, hooked on those words.

A long time coming? As in, Graecie had anticipated receiving such news for a while? As in, Graecie had seen the signs of a couple forming for a good bit now? Before the Red knight’s explicit plan had been enacted? When not even Apo herself had dared dream of it outside some rough planning?

Apo wanted to inquire what Graecie meant by her comment, but the elf was already jogging to catch up with her fellow knight. Owain was unlikely to allow the group to dawdle any longer, so it seemed they would not get an answer yet.

With nothing else to do, Apo forced the issue to the back of her mind and moved on.

Though, it continued to haunt her, resurfacing when she least expected it. Specifically, it came to her at points in which it was only her and Cherri present, meaning she was not putting up an act. Caving, building, relaxing in their home. Apo was able, mostly, to keep their inner turmoil off their face, but it blindsided them on occasion.

A quiet evening with Cherri made for the perfect stage. 

Their Solunian embassy had finally been fully built, and was furnished in all the rooms that mattered. After a long day of dealing with the Blue Kingdom and attempting to draw forth any amount of magic, neither of them were especially talkative. While Apo made them dinner, Cherri sat on the countertop, simply watching. 

The only sound in the room was the bubbling of boiling water, the crackle of the fire, and two sets of breathing. These were always rare, lovely moments, spent in silence that didn’t need to be filled. Apo relished in them, even though they adored conversing with their princess just as much.

Realizing she was missing a spice she needed, the knight hummed, lifting a hand to point to where it sat on the other side of Cherri. They passed it to her, unbothered as their fingers brushed. When Apo finished adding it to the pot, she gave it back, and once again, their fingers brushed. Cherri set it aside, returning to silent observation. 

Their kitchen wasn’t huge, and there were few spots on the countertop that were empty of things, so Cherri was closer to Apo than she really needed to be. The princess kicked her feet absently, and if the knight swayed too far to the right, their hip would bump against Cherri’s knee. 

It happened on occasion, those little accidental touches, as Apo stirred and Cherri daydreamed. Neither of them yanked back, or seemed to really acknowledge the subtle contact. It was just there. Familiar, unremarkable, warm — only a touch they shared in a moment that was solely theirs, and it didn’t have to be anything more.

That casual comfortability had been what rocketed Graecie’s earlier comment into Apo’s mind.

“I know it’s been a long time coming now.”

A long time coming. 

A tangible evolution of their situation that another person had expected, anticipated, been excited to learn about. 

It meant there were signs. Real, actual signs that any stranger could pick up on, indicating this direction for the two of them. Maybe they were stolen glances, bouts of shared laughter, touches that could be played off as friendly. Or maybe their signs looked different to other people — specific only to them, but visible anyway. Their roles as a princess and her knight put them in a unique position, after all. 

Which left Apo to grapple with the idea of someone looking upon them, taking in the nature of their relationship, and viewing them as more. 

The knight glanced up, meeting the gaze of their princess. Cherri was slumped lazily against the cabinets behind them, a soft expression of mild interest resting on their face. The yellow light of the kitchen’s lantern danced through her eyes. Apo swayed, allowing her hip to nudge against the other’s knee. With both of their heads turned inward, there was very little space left between them. Peace continued to stretch through the stillness of the night. 

She studied her companion, beautiful and strong and compassionate beyond words. Cherri was the brightest star in the night sky, the burning sun itself. There existed no mortal being in the world that deserved to shine by their side. All others would look dull in comparison. 

Apo basked in the gentle glow of her attention, like rays of morning light upon her face. 

She dwelled on Graecie’s words, and imagined what one might see if they looked through the kitchen window now. Would they see the princess and their knight, or would they see two regular people, whose fondness for each other went beyond what anyone else might consider friendly?

And Apo found that she wanted that.

Dangerous as it was, Apo wanted more than just a friendship with Cherri. They wanted sparks, warmth, a rising fire. They wanted soft lips and pretty eyes and braided hair. They wanted charged looks and endless closeness and intertwined fingers. 

Apo wanted the exact misconception she’d been spreading. She wanted romance. She wanted flirtation. She wanted to truly call Cherri hers, without any lies or sneaking around or worrying over other possible suitors.

Apo wanted to be able to lean in and kiss Cherri as casually as she could take her hand. Apo wanted intimacy to be regular between them. Apo wanted to push their beds together, to cook dinner by their side, to build and mine and fight and live with Cherri for as long as they would have her. 

Lost in the princess’ unwavering gaze, Apo didn’t notice her hand losing its grip on the stirring spoon, until it accidentally touched the metal side of the pot and a spike of pain bit her skin. They gasped, jumping backwards with a string of curses. The noise instantly shattered their peaceful moment. 

“Apo! Are you okay?” Cherri leapt off the counter, taking Apo’s burnt hand. They checked it over, though there wasn’t much of a visible injury. The spot that had touched the pot was red and aching, but it wasn’t bad enough to blister. “Geez… Why would you go and touch hot metal, idiot?”

The princess glanced around for anything that might help, but they didn’t have much in the way of medical supplies in their home. She echoed some of Apo’s earlier curses, and looked up at the knight apprehensively. 

“It’s not a big deal,” Apo said. Her focus drifted to the worried crease between Cherri’s brows. The knight was, secretly, flattered by her level of concern — so much distress over such a tiny injury. “It’ll go away in a few minutes.”

The princess didn’t seem to like that comment. She glared up at Apo, mouth opening with some kind of retort. Although, it never emerged. There was no denying how minor this particular burn was. No one was bleeding or blistering or crying in pain. The skin was bound to be discolored and sore for a day or two, but it was an inconvenience at most. Even going to the trouble of bandaging it would be too much.

“I overreacted,” Apo assured her. “I apologize.”

As expected, Cherri had a hard time remaining frustrated in the face of their knight’s apology. Begrudgingly, they softened and sighed, “Promise?”

“Double promise.”

That was enough to tide the princess over. Her shoulders slumped and the crease in her brow dissipated. “Fine. Then, I guess we’ll just have to stick to the basic remedies.”

Apo raised a brow. “Like I said, that really won’t be necessar—”

The knight stopped dead as Cherri lifted their hand to her mouth and pressed a soft, fleeting kiss upon the burn. 

“There,” she said, breath fanning out over Apo’s knuckles. “Should do the trick.”

Cherri straightened and stepped back, turning towards their boiling pot. She hummed while she checked on their dinner. 

Apo didn’t move. Apo couldn’t move, because the princess had just kissed her hand.

The effect was instantaneous. All the heat from the lingering burn jumped to the knight’s face instead, becoming so hot that Apo feared her cheeks would begin to blister. 

“Hm, we used the last of our supply for our food, but I can go get more water from the well,” Cherri said. “We can at least pour that over your hand. Stay here.”

The princess ducked around the corner, and Apo listened as they ran out the door. She stumbled, back hitting the wall. Before she could stop herself, her legs gave out, and she slid down to the floor. Her hand remained outstretched, the phantom feeling of Cherri’s lips keeping it frozen in place. 

Apo took deep, measured breaths. Their pulse punched against their ribs. Their skin buzzed. Their mind raced. She had a limited time until Cherri was back, until reality had to return, until she needed to bury this again. 

And yet, Apo couldn’t stand, couldn’t straighten, couldn’t fix her appearance, couldn’t hide herself. All Apo could do was stare at her hand, and wish with all her heart that she had the strength to end this ruse.

Her eyes fell shut. 

An idea came to her. A horribly stupid idea. 

With any luck, it’d be stupid enough to get her out of the hole she’d already dug.

Apo braced herself for the backlash, and stood.

“What is wrong with you?”

The morning mist left a slight chill to the air, combatting the sweat that beaded at Apo’s brow. Light blue coated the sky, the moment right before a sunrise was due to spill from the horizon. It should have been peaceful, calming, perfect for clearing one’s head. 

Apo scoffed, pausing her training to whirl on Katie. “Excuse me?”

The other knight wasn’t dressed in her typical armor. She matched Apo in her lightweight tanktop and flowy pants, a wooden sword in hand. It made her cocked hip and crossed arms that much more evident. No amount of metal plating kept her from expressing her displeasure with her whole form.

Likely, she’d been on her way to train as well — that much wasn’t surprising. Very few people were up in the early dawn, save for the knights. If they saw anyone else at such an hour, it was the rogues, stumbling through the gates after a full night of mischief to fall into their beds. 

“You are not excused,” Katie replied. “Why have you been acting weird?”

Apo winced. She turned back to the training dummy in front of her, raising her wooden sword. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Three days ago,” the other instantly countered. “In the throne room.”

The scene flashed through Apo’s mind: Standing beside Cherri, stony faced, only speaking when spoken to, and referring to her solely as, ‘my lady.’ Not reacting, even as that visibly caused her princess concern. Playing the part of the perfect, stoic guard, and nothing more. 

“Doesn’t ring a bell,” Apo lied. She carried through a flawless, practiced strike. The dummy thunked against her blade. 

“Then, two days ago,” Katie said. “The meeting on the bridge with Blue.”

A civilized meeting turned sour, both kingdoms growing aggravated, Apo by Cherri’s side. Except, as Cherri moved to take her knight’s hand, the latter subtly shuffled out of her reach. 

“It was a chaotic encounter,” Apo lied again. “I can’t say anything’s coming to me.”

Katie stomped her foot, face flushed with outrage. “And what about during our farkle tournament last night?”

The courtyard had been brimming with people, everyone chattering, sharing in joy, cackling over games. Apo set up her match as far away from Cherri as she could get, and pretended not to notice their forlorn glances all evening. 

Apo pulled the towel off her shoulders to wipe away her perspiration. “What about it?”

“That’s what I’m wondering!” Katie threw her arms up, voice raising until it bounced off the walls around them. “What happened between you and Cherri?”

“Nothing happened,” they replied, the first truthful statement to leave them all morning. Apo brandished her sword again. “This is how a princess and her knight are supposed to act.”

“Yeah, but you’re not–! You aren’t just–!” Katie stopped and started, clearly unsure of the exact wording she needed. “Cherri told me you’re only acting like this in public. They said you’re completely normal when it’s only the two of you.”

Apo did not react, nor did she deny it. The dummy endured several more quick blows. 

It was true that this stoicism was put on solely when others were around. Cherri could lean against her while they lounged on their couch at home, or grab her hand to pull her away from a pit of lava as they mined. However, the second another soul stepped into view, Apo had made it a priority to shove everything down.

There was nothing normal about her behavior, to be clear. She knew she was being stupid, knew this was bound to backfire and hurt the person she cared about, but she couldn’t think of another way out. 

Previously, she’d taken liberties with Cherri in front of others to further her scheme. Almost every time Apo had grabbed their hand or swayed too close or dropped stray comments that could easily be misconstrued, it’d been done with ulterior motives. Only when they were in private was Apo able to do all those same things without pretenses. 

She needed to tell Cherri. She needed to come clean about her ruse, her misdeeds, her subtle betrayal — because Sausage had put the idea in her head, but she’d been the fool that’d followed through. In order to do so, though, they had to repent. They had to make an effort to show that, while her affections continued privately, she was no longer seeking public approval.

“I don’t know if you’ve ever had a social interaction before,” Katie spat, “But where I come from, that’s considered weird, Apo.”

“We’re fine, Katie,” Apo sighed. “It’s none of your business anyway.”

They saw the other knight recoil from their peripherals. “Except, it is my business. Cherri’s sad, you know that right? You’ve hurt their feelings.”

Apo squeezed her eyes shut and missed their next strike. They tried so hard not to envision Cherri’s scrunched up expression and confused frown. Apo’s heart gave a weak thump in its cage. They just needed the rumors to die down, and then they could go to their princess and explain everything. Just until then.

“Ugh, I shouldn’t even be speaking to you about this,” Katie grumbled. “Cherri will have my head if she hears.”

That got Apo’s attention. She froze mid-swing and looked at Katie. The other knight was muttering under her breath, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Why would… Cherri have your head?” 

Katie jumped. A dawning realization crossed her expression, and she covered her mouth with her hand. “Nothing. No reason.”

Apo gave up on their peaceful training session and threw their sword aside. It took two large strides for the distance between them to close, and then Katie was cowering beneath Apo’s imposing shadow. Her eyes were wide with terror and a telling guilt. She knew something Apo didn’t. 

“Katie,” Apo started, low and ominously calm. “Why are you keeping this a secret from me?”

Katie stared up at her, blinking faster and faster. It looked like the truth was welling up inside her, threatening to burst. Apo leaned just the slightest bit closer, took her wrist, and pulled her hand away from her mouth.

The other knight’s resolve disintegrated, and she blurted, “Cherri made all of us promise not to talk about love with you because she didn’t want to scare you off!”

Apo tensed. 

Katie went beet red, obviously mortified. 

It was Apo’s turn to be at a loss for words. They struggled to make sense of the revelation, sorting through every syllable for a hint of its true meaning. There were just too many aspects that brought further confusion. 

“She didn’t want to… scare me off?” Apo tilted her head, thoroughly perplexed. “With discussions of love? What are you talking about, Katie?”

Katie squirmed under her gaze. “Well, she thought… you were finally starting to come to terms with your feelings, and she didn’t want us teasing you in case it stunted your progress. They talked to everyone in the kingdom — and some people in Blue too — about leaving you alone. At least, when it comes to that topic…”

Apo blinked, frown only deepening. 

Leaving her alone? When it comes to that topic? The topic being love?

But that didn’t make sense. Why would Cherri want everyone in both kingdoms to avoid teasing her about love?

For some reason, Apo’s mind slipped back to that odd day in the mage’s guild. The way everyone, including Cherri, had worn similar looks. Then, she remembered Cherri glaring at the Blue rogues as they laughed. And once again, Graecie’s words floated in, implying a mutual, tangible chemistry between them.

“You can’t exactly blame Cherri,” Katie mumbled. She stepped back and twiddled her thumbs. “She got excited that you were finally outwardly reciprocating. You’ve been so reserved with your emotions until recently.”

“Cherri was… excited,” Apo echoed, though a ringing in their ears nearly drowned out the sound. “She was… excited that I was… reciprocating?”

Her mind was flooded with new memories, both recent and not. 

Cherri’s flushed face, reddened ears, wide eyes, stumbling words. Their constantly close proximity and friendly demeanor, unbothered if others saw them. Cherri’s care for Apo’s wellbeing, her want to drop the formalities, and her odd bouts of frustration when Apo accidentally crossed the line with her ruse.

The long-awaited dawn crested over the mountains. With it came a sudden morning breeze, cold and crisp and clear. She breathed it in, until her lungs burned from the force of it. When she exhaled again, the perpetual fog in front of Apo’s eyes was carried away.

Cherri liked her. 

Really, truly, romantically liked her.

And they’d been waiting all this time for Apo to sort out her own feelings. All this time, and the princess hadn’t complained or tried to rush her or allowed others to prod her in any particular direction. They’d been waiting so patiently.

Apo’s chest ached. 

She had been running around like a fool for weeks in an attempt to scare off potential suitors, and the whole time, Cherri only had eyes for her. 

Apo reached out a hand, clamping down on Katie’s shoulder and slumping before the girl could protest. Their legs trembled, breathing quickened, palms began to sweat. 

They needed to speak to Cherri. Now.

The problem with having earth-shattering realizations first thing in the morning was exactly that — it was first thing in the morning. 

Cherri didn’t usually rise until far later in the day. Sometimes that meant right around nine, and sometimes that meant mid-afternoon. And no matter which one was the case that day, it probably wasn’t wise to blindside the princess with blurted confessions the very moment her head lifted off the pillow either. 

So, Apo had waited. And waited. And waited. 

She paced until a ditch appeared in the training grounds and Ser Bek urged her elsewhere. She tapped her foot in the mage’s guild until Sausage and Cam chased her out. She walked laps outside the kingdom, around and around and around, until Kitty saw her and pushed her down onto a bench. 

The rogue was kind enough to fetch her some water, which was more needed than Apo had realized. It was a wonder they hadn’t passed out with how little they’d been drinking. 

“Kitty,” Apo said when she finally tore the waterskin away from her face. She needed, desperately, for the source of her anxiety to cease. “Can you do me a favor?”

“A favor?” Kitty tilted her head, curiously leaning closer. “Maybe…”

“Can you check in the window of my house and see if Cherri’s still asleep? But could you be sneaky about it, just in case she is? I don’t want to wake her.”

The rogue straightened, a gleam of excitement in their eyes from the proposed challenge. Almost violently, Kitty nodded. “Yes, of course! There is no one quite as sneaky as I! Wait here!”

In the next instant, Kitty was gone, bounding soundlessly towards the kingdom once more. Now, they would just have to wait and see. Apo tipped her head back, watching the leaves of the trees dance overhead. The morning chill had faded into a soft warmth, with only the slightest wind to kick up the spring air. She closed her eyes, letting herself relax for the first time all day.

“Apo!”

Apo jolted, knocking their elbow against the bench and sending pain rocketing up their whole body. When she looked, Kitty was before her, already returned from her mission. The cat seemed frazzled. “What? What is it? Is something wrong?”

“Oh no, I am fine.” Kitty blinked, all urgency draining from them. “Thank you for asking.”

The knight raised a brow. “Uh, good, cool… Did you find Cherri?”

Kitty nodded and pointed, though not in the direction of the Solunians’ home. “Ser Bek said she saw Cherri leave to go chop trees in the mountain fifteen minutes ago! If you hurry, you can still catch up to them!”

Cherri was awake!

Apo jumped to her feet, nearly knocking into Kitty. Luckily, the rogue was faster, dodging as though she’d expected such a reaction. “Go on,” he urged Apo. “Faster!”

The knight listened, hastily starting towards the forest around the back of the kingdom. Fifteen minutes was quite a lot of time for Cherri to have as a headstart. They could’ve wandered in any direction by now. It was possible Apo would have to search for a long while to find her. 

She took off, despite being tired from her constant morning stressing. Apo did not stop or waver for a single second, pushing until their muscles ached and their breaths came quickly. Passing into the forest took the weight of the sun off them, making movement a bit easier. They glanced around, looking for tracks in the dirt, axe marks on stumps, freshly trodden grass, anything that might indicate where Cherri had gone. 

She found none of those things, but her eyes did land upon a patch of pink flowers — pretty and sweet and slightly to the left, exactly the kind of thing that might cause the princess to veer off path. Trusting their gut, Apo swerved in that direction. 

For several minutes, she continued on, growing a little worried that her decision had been incorrect. Until finally, she heard the sound of an axe thumping against wood, and came across a small meadow.

Cherri stood at the far end, her back to Apo. Their hair was pulled out of their face and they’d forgone their usual gown in favor of a looser tunic and trousers. Wildflowers carpeted the ground beneath her feet. Sunlight cascaded down from the sky to rest delicately upon her form, which was anything but delicate at the moment. 

From this angle, Apo was all too aware of how Cherri’s outfit highlighted the muscles of their back as the princess brought the axe down hard, easily splitting a log in half. She swallowed, mouth suddenly dry. The knight used the last of her strength to clear her throat.

Cherri whirled around, axe raised over her head as if she might need to swing it in self-defense. Her lips parted at the sight of her knight. “Apo? What are you doing here?”

“I was just… Well, I wanted to… I was walking by and…” Apo’s brain shut down. Multiple attempts were made to speak, but none were entirely successful. When their lungs grew tight, they realized that they were not breathing. She took a deep breath in, and croaked out, “I came to see you.”

Cherri blinked. “Me?”

The princess tossed their axe aside, an uncertain pull to their lips. They started to cautiously walk closer to Apo, as if they weren’t entirely sure what to expect. Apo was grateful for her approach, however hesitant. Given how shaky her own legs currently were, the knight had a pretty solid chance of falling over at the first available opportunity.

“Did you need something?” Cherri slowed when they were less than a foot away. Unfortunately, the proximity gave them a much better view of Apo’s face, which caused them to frown. “Are you… alright? You’re, like, concerningly red.”

Apo cracked a weak smile. “As opposed to… a normal amount of red?”

“Yes, actually,” Cherri snorted. “Red is your resting state. Now, answer me.” 

“I’m alright.” The knight said, averting her eyes. “Just winded… and nervous.”

That made Cherri perk up. “Nervous?”

Apo gazed down at her, heart overflowing with unrealized potential. It rolled over her with the fresh breeze and the warmth of the sun. 

She wanted a life with this woman now more than ever before. Whether it was in this sad excuse for a kingdom, or by her side in Soluna. Whether they were poor or rich, through hardship and strife. No matter how stubborn and blind Apo was, she could see the possibility of eternity with this singular person, and she wanted it badly. 

“I lied to you, Cherri.”

Cherri recoiled, brows furrowing. “Excuse me?”

“For the past several weeks… I’ve been going behind your back and spreading rumors,” Apo went on, steeling her heart. “About us.”

“Rumors about us?” The princess was thoroughly puzzled, stuck between looking confused and worried. “What are you—”

“I told everyone that we were together. Romantically.” Apo spoke it quickly, firmly, and exactly. The words felt dangerous and wrong, but they wanted their princess to know everything. So, they continued, “I was scared that someone from Red or Blue might catch your eye and you would begin… courting them.”

Cherri tensed, mouth dropping open. “You–?”

“I told myself it was all an act to keep unworthy suitors away, but I realize now that it was never a selfless deed,” Apo said. She reached out before she could lose her nerve and took Cherri’s hand. “I like you, Cherri. More than a knight probably should.”

A beat of silence passed between them. 

A bird chirped in the distance, the wind rustled through the leaves, and a squirrel chittered from a nearby tree. The world moved on as normal, but in the space that separated Apo and Cherri, time had completely stopped. 

“You,” Cherri started, almost too quiet to hear. “You like me?”

Apo nodded, squeezing her hand. A grin tipped up on her lips. “A lot.”

A terrifying amount. More than Apo could remember liking anyone or anything. She wasn't sure how she’d gone so long without admitting it to herself. The mortification of that would probably stick with her for a while.

They were so caught up in the bliss of finally admitting to their feelings that they forgot to account for one important mistake of theirs.

“Apo,” the princess said. The knight stiffened at the trembling in her tone, smile faltering. One wrong move, and it seemed like Cherri might shatter. “Is that why you’ve been so confusing? Why you’ve been avoiding me?”

She stared down at their intertwined hands, one of her thumbs running over Apo’s knuckles. Apo sucked in a breath. The facts clawed at their throat, rough and raw and not nearly as clean as they might have liked.

“Yes,” they croaked. “I wanted to… reverse the mistakes I made. I went behind your back and took advantage of our closeness for my own benefit. I know it was wrong of me, but I wanted to show you that I wasn’t doing this for everyone else’s approval.”

Apo followed the pain in their chest downward, until they were bent at the waist, Cherri’s hand pressed to their forehead. It was the lowest bow she’d given her princess since the entire ruse had begun. Were she not shaking quite so much, she might have dropped to her knees as well.

“I should have told you ages ago. I don’t deserve your forgiveness,” Apo whispered. “But allow me to work to regain your trust, and I swear I’ll dedicate the rest of my life to that pursuit.”

Another long stretch of silence emerged on the other side of Apo’s promise. Cherri didn’t speak, didn’t beg her knight to rise, didn’t even hum in disapproval or disgust. They were simply still. 

“You’d be willing to do that?” Cherri sounded hoarse when they finally cut through the mounting tension. “You’d be willing to dedicate your entire life to me?”

Apo opened her eyes at the question, but did not look up. Hope blossomed in her lungs. She nodded. “Yes. I’d do anything for you.”

She heard Cherri breathe deeply. “Just because you’re my knight? Or because… you… you…”

“Because I adore you, my lady,” Apo finished for her. They looked up then, intent on showing their earnest affections with their face. Cherri was already staring down at them, cheeks aglow. “Because as long as you’re looking at me like that… I could spend the rest of my life happy.”

She pressed her lips to Cherri’s hand, maintaining eye contact. The princess swallowed.

“Because I like you,” the knight promised. “Because I think — I hope — that you like me as well.”

Apo was so lost by the swirling depths of Cherri’s gaze that she wasn’t expecting the palm that ghosted over her cheek. Slowly, the princess trailed down to her chin, and tipped it up, beckoning her knight to follow. Apo straightened, mesmerized by the slight upturn of those beautiful lips. 

Cherri swayed closer, bringing all the spring’s warmth with them. “I do,” she replied. Her voice was soft, private, only for Apo to hear. “I really, really do.”

Apo’s heart soared from the sound of those words. Cherri liked them. Definitively, Cherri liked them. The knight could not suppress the quiet laugh that slipped from them, too overjoyed to keep quiet. Cherri’s thumb stroked their rosy cheeks, tracing the dimples that had appeared there. 

“Woah,” Cherri said, gaze shining with mirth. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you smile quite this much.”

She’d never had a reason to — though she wouldn’t burden her princess with that reality just yet. Apo was content to be in their presence, to soak in the light and comfort that radiated from their very being. The closer Cherri was, the more right the world seemed to be. 

Suddenly, the slight gap remaining between them was cold. It existed to taunt Apo, urging her to close it, to bring Cherri in, to dip her head down, to let herself consume every last ounce of the sunlight that rested upon the other’s lips.

She could not resist for long. A moment later, Apo disregarded manners, etiquette, and royal standing to loop her free arm around Cherri and yank them the rest of the way. Their torsos bumped together, and the princess sucked in a sharp, surprised breath. Her hand fell away from Apo’s cheek to land upon their shoulder. 

Cherri stared at Apo, as close as they’d been that day by the river, and this time, the knight could read her expression perfectly. Hope accompanied an incomparable yearning, overtaking the princess. Her eyes shifted downward, as if she were unable to hide where those emotions were directed. 

Apo ached with the need to fulfill their princess’ greatest desires. Now more than ever before. 

She tilted her head, bringing them near enough for their breaths to mix. Slowly, deliberately, she whispered, “May I?”

Cherri was able to nod only once before Apo was stealing her lips in a kiss. 

A wave of electricity rocketed between them, quick and sizzling. From the tips of Apo’s fingers, to the balls of her feet, she was overwhelmed by it. They kissed Cherri like the world was ending, like the war was at their doorstep, like they had only each other left in this moment.

Apo had never experienced anything close to this sensation. If a peck upon Cherri’s hand or the intertwining of their fingers had left them feeling flushed, this was the very earth itself crumbling under their feet. She was red, breathless, burning from the inside out, but she couldn’t stop. 

Her heart was pounding in her ears and adrenaline catapulted through her veins. It was the same rush that came from a final blow, a battle won, a triumphant victory. Apo had fought endless wars, weaved through hundreds of enemy soldiers, brushed against death time after time, and yet this was the most alive she had ever felt. 

Cherri released her grip on Apo’s hand to snake her arm around the back of the knight’s neck. Using her newfound leverage, she yanked Apo ever-further. Cherri was a fiery storm, a force that could change night into day, who could command that the heavens fall silent, and their kiss mirrored that part of them in every way.

Apo wondered, a little deliriously, how quickly one could propose after a courtship was established. 

Any thoughts she had were wiped clean as Cherri pulled back, and Apo realized she’d forgotten to breathe during the entire duration of their embrace. A second longer and there would have been difficulties. She quickly gasped against the stinging in her lungs. Cherri breathed in time with her, slightly more elegantly, a smile gracing those kissed-pink lips. She was not expecting to hear a snort come from the princess a second later.

“What?” Her voice was hoarse, and her face heated at the realization. Apo cleared her throat. “What’s, uh… What’s so funny?”

“You,” Cherri hummed. She tucked a strand of hair behind Apo’s ear. “You look like someone just punched you in the face.”

The knight’s jaw dropped. “What?”

“You do!” Cherri broke down into a fit of laughter, swaying further into Apo’s space. “Your eyes are all wide and shocked, and you’ve got a blush the size of my fist on your cheeks.”

“That’s what you’re taking away from this?” Apo’s bafflement was unparalleled. “I just had the best kiss of my entire life, and you’re laughing about it?”

Cherri lifted their hand to push their knuckles against the blush in question, which only elevated their amusement. Apo sputtered and swatted at her hand. The meadow around them was drowned in the echoing laughter of the princess.

Apo tried desperately to appear irritated. None of this was the weepy, romantic nonsense that should have accompanied a confession as sweet as theirs, and yet, here it was. Cherri was teasing her, riling her up, poking and prodding in all the usual places, and Apo couldn’t imagine a scene that was more right. Cherri in her arms, a smile on her face — Apo was content.

She drew forward again and swallowed that beautiful melody in another kiss. Cherri melted into it, though her chest rumbled like she wanted to continue to cackle. Apo loved every second.