Unsettled

Emelia trudged back to the camp, unsure and fearful. Her feet felt heavy, and her heart thumped in her chest as she passed by her fellow soldiers who stood silently in their ranks, their faces a mixture of anxiety, exhaustion, and suspicion. All Emelia wanted was to go home, be held close by her parents, and ask all the questions weighing her mind. But she knew her place was with Leon, standing firm with their regiment as they prepared for whatever was to come.

She sat in the silence of her tent; her gaze transfixed on the tiara that her mother had given her. Red rubies sparkled against the golden metal, and she traced the name “Sarah” etched in the interior. She had only worn it once before, but it felt as if it were an heirloom that could pass through generations. As she admired its beauty, the door flap to her tent rustled, interrupting her thoughts, “Come in,” she called out.

Leon pushed aside the canvas flap and stepped into the warm interior, “How are you?” he asked.

Emelia’s eyes were heavy, her shoulders slumped, and her face was drawn. “I’ve been better,” she said wearily.

Leon exhaled slowly, “It’s understandable. You just got your memories back....” He swallowed hard and let the words linger in the air.

Her piercing gaze softened, and she tilted her head, “Are you trying to decide rather to call me Emelia or Sarah?”

He scratched at the beginnings of his stubble and frowned in concentration, the faint shadow of a beard giving him a rugged appeal. His gaze darted around the room, searching for an answer before finally settling back on her. After a few tense seconds of silence, he cleared his throat and asked, “What name would you like to be called?”

The question caught her off guard as no one had ever asked her that before. She felt like a completely different person from years ago when she was Princess Sarah, and a familiarity of those memories tugged at her heart. At that moment, she felt torn between two identities. She looked into his inquisitive eyes as she responded softly. “I’m not sure,” she sighed, her body aching with the weight of her memories. “I feel like two different people. I have all these memories as Princess Sarah, but I’ve also grown to like who I’ve become, Lady Emelia, soldier, friend….” She reached out and cupped his face tenderly, her voice filled with love. “Fiancé of Leon the Great.”

He took her hand in his, his thumb gently tracing circles on the back of it as he looked into her eyes. “No matter what name you choose for yourself, nothing can keep me from marrying you. It can be Sarah or Emelia or whatever you want it to be,” he paused to brush a feather-light kiss over her knuckles before continuing to look at her.

Her eyes darted around the room as she searched for the words that lay somewhere deep in her heart. She paused momentarily, feeling the weight of her decision, and then exhaled slowly. “I think I want to remain as Emelia,” she said, her voice quiet but determined. “It’s the only name I’ve known for the past six years.” She nodded decisively, making up her mind.

“Whew,” he said, wiping imaginary sweat from his brow. “I think the royals would have a field day if I didn’t know my fiancé’s name,” he winked devilishly, teasingly adding, “I was prepared to call you good-looking.”

Emelia stepped closer and wrapped her arms around his neck, “You were not,” she said brightly, her eyes crinkling as her smile spread wide.

He carefully placed his hands around her waist as if trying to preserve her. “I was,” He said with a smile. “Your new name was going to be GL - good looking.” She couldn’t help but chuckle, the sound of joy ringing through the air. The heaviness that had been weighing down on her chest suddenly seemed lighter. He pressed his forehead to hers tenderly, and even though they were only inches apart, she could feel the warmth of his breath on her face. “Your laugh is beautiful,” he said softly. “I could listen to it all day.”

A small, satisfied grin tugged at her lips. Her eyes sparkled in response to his comment, and she uttered an affectionate, “I love you.”

His voice was a gentle rumble as he spoke her name, “Emelia.” She raised her head, her eyes shining with love and admiration. He felt a swell of emotion, knowing that every sacrifice had been worth it to make this one moment possible. He stepped forward, reaching out to caress her cheek with the back of his hand. “You need to know that you are never alone. I will always be right here, and you are mine.”

“And you are mine,” she whispered. A thrill ran through his veins as the words left her lips. His mouth descended on hers like a gentle yet electric storm. His hands explored her body possessively, kneading and caressing her curves. Every nerve in her body came alive as their lips moved in perfect synchronization. She felt as if he were claiming every part of her with this kiss.

“Alright, lovebirds,” Lieutenant Lassiter’s gruff voice outside the tent cut through their embrace. “King Edward wants to see us in his tent...now,” he said, his silhouette illuminated in the tent opening.

Emelia and Leon followed Lassiter silently out of the tent. Emelia was painfully aware of the contemptuous looks her fellow soldiers were sending her as they walked through camp. She tightened her grip on Leon’s hand, and he squeezed it protectively. She could feel the rage radiating off of him. His eyes blazed, but not with anger towards her. He was angry that they were daring to disrespect her. “Out with it!” He bellowed to the camp with a commanding and protective voice. “You all obviously have something to say, so let’s hear it.”

Lassiter stepped forward, and his expression was unreadable. He shifted his feet, and when he spoke, the solemn tone of his voice carried the weight of a hundred battles. “The war,” he began, “we fought this war over a missing princess, and it turns out she was here all along.” He looked to Emelia, searching her face for some sign of regret. “You could have saved many lives if you just came forward.”

Leon’s eyebrows furrowed, “You’re saying this is all her fault?” His voice was low and menacing.

A soldier stepped forward, his voice harsh and determined. “Yes. She’s the princess. If Alana wants her back, then give her back.”

King Edward stepped out of his tent, his heavily-embroidered robes billowing in the air as he looked towards the commotion. “Emelia couldn’t remember her previous life when I first discovered her, not knowing her own name or what kingdom she belonged to.”

Leon’s face was full of anger and frustration. “And do you honestly think she would’ve let this war go on if she could stop it!” he hissed through gritted teeth. “She risked her life for us to advance, and only people who love their Kingdom would do that.” The conviction in his voice was undeniable.

Edward glanced around the circle of men, some young, some old, all hardened by life on the battlefield. “I agree,” he declared firmly, his voice carrying through the air. “Don’t be a bunch of foolish men. We owe her our lives and this war.” He then gently placed his hand beneath her elbow and guided her away from the cluster of weary warriors towards the flap of his tent.

Lassiter cleared his throat and spoke up, his voice a mix of surprise and regret. “Obviously, we didn’t know she lost her memories.”

Leon’s eyes narrowed, and he paused for a moment before speaking. “Next time,” he said slowly, “don’t make assumptions. Have a little respect and give your fellow soldier the benefit of the doubt.”

Lassiter bent at the waist, his back straight and arm extended in a formal military bow. “Yes, your majesty,” he said, then stood and spun on his heels to face the men before him. His voice boomed as he issued orders to get them moving.

Emelia ducked her head as she stepped into Edward’s tent. He stepped into the center of the room, hands clasped behind his back, face pale and serious. “Kingdom Alana wants to meet and sign a treaty,” he said.

Leon entered, letting in a gust of cold air. He caught the end of Edward’s statement and smiled, “That sounds like great news.”

Edward scratched his chin, and his brow furrowed as he contemplated. “It could be. It depends on the terms they present.” He handed the letter to Emelia, and she could feel the weight of the words pressing down on her. “He wants you there during the talks,” he added, his voice heavy with meaning.

Emelia scanned the letter, her gaze dancing along the words as she read over the invitation to the Alana castle. A wave of nostalgia overcame her as she wondered how her hometown had changed since she left. Resolve set in, and she muttered, “I’ll go.”

Edward nodded, his eyes twinkling. “Very well,” he said, his voice soft and authoritative. “I’ll have a messenger sent to announce our arrival tomorrow.”