The eaves of the castle were not a good place for Princess Rue to be, but the realization had come belatedly. Her regret was not for the chance of someone looking up and wondering at the strange behavior of the princess; she did not suppose there was much risk of that, because it wasn't as though she had picked a spot on the roof bordering the gardens. Unless the nobles had developed a new liking for wandering outside the seamless grandeur of palace marble, people were not likely to come below her, and that suited her well enough.  The point of her venture had been solitude, and if she was a fool, it was not because she didn't know how how to find what she wanted. The gaze of others had never frightened her, anyhow.

No, on the eaves of the castle, it was the wind that made Rue cringe, turned from a calm breeze at the ground to what could have been the beginnings of  a gale at the height of the castle. The wind was purely benign despite its chill as it toyed with the silk of her dress. She was certain it could not mean harm. But the shifting of light fabric was not so different from that of black feathers against her in the wind she was familiar with, the wind from her that lying Raven's wings. It still snatched her breath from her and did not seem willing to part as it rushed past her, but since it could not knock her aside, it swept through her. She couldn't resist that, and so she flickered higher and harsher in the wind, her blood scorching within her. Or maybe it wasn't <i>her</i> blood.

Anyone else would never have even thought to come up here, never put a step out of place, never falter in a decision that needed making, as if the decision had already been made and they only had to proclaim it. She, however, was free to move as she wished, and so she would. Perhaps she would find herself turning everything to ash as she flared and faded with uneven heat, ruining her prince's perfection by her tempestuous tendencies.  Because she would not be held back, even if she should have been, even if someone could have restrained the power she radiated.

Still, none of that fire was in her eyes as she looked out over the kingdom with only a slight sourness apparent in her frown. She sat down, her dress forming graceful folds around her as she settled in a motion to fluid to be called collapsing. It would have been better to climb down, away from the tossing winds, but she felt as though she would have been set off by the slightest irritation. The sense of that grew as she remained utterly still on the rooftop, as if to deliberately defy herself. It might have simply been better to remain alone, if she had the choice, but a voice made it clear that she did not.

“Rue?” That voice made her name something beautiful, giving it the sound of something to be loved, and drew her back to her feet so suddenly that almost anyone else would have fallen. Except, perhaps, the white-haired gentleman approaching her with concern pooling in his deeply golden eyes. It was worrying to see her there; he had to fear what it might mean that she secluded herself above the world, in the high place like where a different princess had often vainly tried to solace. He was reassured, though, when she turned to him at the sound of her true name. “I was looking for you...”

It wasn't an accusation, only a reminder of the fact that she had someone who would look for her now. Yet even with that, she said, “I'm sorry, my prince...”

Siegfried shook his head, his steps so sure that he seemed to notice neither the height nor the wind that blustered around them both. When he was near enough, he offered her a hand, and when she accepted it, he pulled her close without pausing to see if she might close the distance between them on her own.

“I only wanted to be with you,” he told her plainly, as both his arms flowed around the princess to support her against him. His heartbeat splashed against her like a steady tide, inviting her to sink against him, and she did absently rest her head on his chest. In truth, she was surprised that he had found her. Her prince was the greatest of the perfection in this kingdom, and she could hardly understand why he had come so far from his normal course when he belonged on his throne. To be with her? That had to have been the reason, and she wanted to love it. But all her thoughts were singed now, dark and foul.

“I'm sure you have more important matters to attend to.” She sighed into him.

“And what could be more important to me than my princess?” It seemed to be a genuine inquiry, his eyebrows lifting with elegant curiosity as he tried unsuccessfully to fathom what she might be referring to. He did not care for any alternatives, however, even if she might have suggested one, and Siegfried continued as though musing, “No. No, there is nothing...”

“You have your kingdom. I cannot be much compared to that...” She spoke in a whisper, hoping to conceal her misery in the low volume, but he was not deceived. She was aware of his quiet gaze washing over her for a lengthy moment, his presence alone filling her lungs and making it difficult to breath. His fingers rippled over her spine to soothe her as he considered what to say. She was, indeed, more important than anything, and unlike anyone he had ever known, stirring feelings that had been unrealized even before his heart was shattered. The young prince tended to find himself at something of a loss, but she needed him now, and silence would not do.

“Rue...” He murmured her name this time, and somehow, it lingered, as if it shared the protection of from the wind that his body provided her. “I love you.”

The words streamed gently around her, and though they could have had the power of a rushing torrent to douse her completely and leave her sodden, his gentleness lent them a lighter strength. She swallowed, though she had not actually be close to tears, and lifted her finely clad arms to return his embrace. She could have argued more, but was not what she wanted, and for the moment, she thought it would be well enough for her to take what she did want. “I love you, as well, my prince.”

The wind was cruel. It had nothing to support her; it only stung wounds and fanned flames. But her prince allowed her to float freely, cooling any aches that came to her heart. She <i>could</i> have cried then; it was more than she deserved, but he gave it so willingly, and he would have hated to watch her cry. Instead, when Siegfried shifted and Rue's familiarity with his movements made it clear what he intended, she allowed him to take her arm and escort her back to where she was meant to be with him.