___________
“I most certainly will,” Caitlin smiled back. “May I ask how you and your husband know Christia-uh, Jamie?”

Carlota smiled. “Me hubby and his grandaddeh’ been friends since they were the size of an apple stem; both his grandaddeh’ and his dad helped us with buildin’ this here in which we now stand, and sometimes we looked after the youngster when his papa and ma' were both workin’. His pa’ was a knight and his mah’ helped his grandparents with the business.”

“What was he like in his younger years?” Caitlin asked.

Mrs. O'Doerery's smile grew even larger. “A kinder lad never did exist in all the lands, I promise ya' that. Even as a youngster, sweet as chocolate cake. A little shy, 'specially when it comes to talkin' to pretty girls, but a sweetheart when he opens up to ya’,” She declared. “His parents, too; better, more handsomer' folk never walked our world,” Carlota added with a sigh. “Whole place’s a bit bleeker with em’ not around.”

“May I inquire as to what happened to them?”

Mrs. O'Doerery let out a resigned sigh. "They both passed on when he was young. Jamie don’t like to talk about it cuz he blames himself for not being able to protect them.”

“Why would he blame himself?” Caitlin asked.

She shrugged. “I don’t think I’ll ever know; he was just a boy, and there was nothin’ he could do for either of em’. Wouldn’t mention it, though, still a real sore subject."

Before she could make any further inquiries, Carlot returned. “Jamie's waitin’ for ya' in your room, Miss Faraday.”

Caitlin said her thanks and went up the stairs into the hall, pausing outside the door to the bedroom to reconsider her companion. He was still a pest, there was no denying that, but the revelation about his parents cast his annoying nature into harsh illumination. His overprotectiveness likely stemmed from the feelings of rage and impotence he experienced during the tender years of his youth. Knights, regardless of age, were bound by the most sacred order to protect the people of Amorado, even at the cost of their own life.

 “You know, Christiansen,” Caitlin said as she opened the door. “Perhaps you’re not as useless as I first thought-"

As she stepped in, something cut her off. Silencing Caitlin Faraday was no easy feat, but the horror inside was enough to render her mute, eyes wide and mouth agape.

“What?” Christiansen asked. “Is everything alright?”

“Buh...” She made an attempt at a coherent response. “I-juh...you.”

“Caitlin, what’s wrong?”

    Rage got the better of her; the teasing was simply too much. “You...you don’t have a shirt on! Why don’t you have a shirt on?” She struggled to keep the volume down, her eyes fixated on his bare stomach.

    Christiansen’s stupid face once again lit up like a comet. He dodged her gaze. “I-I'm sorry, Caitlin, I was getting out of my armor, and I thought-”

    Rather than allowing the dunce to continually fluster her, Caitlin slammed the door shut. Out of sight, the image of a shirtless Christiansen was still seared into her mind's eye. Obviously, knighthood involved a lot of physical activity, lifting heavy equipment and such, but the knowledge Chrsitiansen possessed a body like that was unsettling. The thought hadn’t even occurred to her that he might be so very lean and tight beneath the armor. She couldn’t stop thinking about his arms and the way his stomach angeled into a clean V-

Caitlin bit her bottom lip to prevent her making a frustrated gnash. There was no time to admire his physicality like some stupid, giggling girl with a crush. He just engineered a scheme to try and woo her, to undermine her resolve. Perhaps taking his clothes off worked on lesser women, but the Princess would have none of such foolishness.

    Still, she remained outside the room, arms crossed. Didn’t want to risk encountering further beguiling sorcery.

    A minute later, the door opened, and a fully clothed Christiansen stood before her.

    “I’m sorry, Caitlin. I promise I didn't  mean to make you uncomfortable, but in my defense, you didn’t knock-”

    Caitlin barged past him, forcing him back after their shoulders collided. Once her dominance was reasserted, she turned back, sticking an index finger in his face. “Try anything like that again, and I fill you with arrows.”

    She turned back to assess their domicile. The room was small, relative to those of the castle, but serviceable. There was a small fireplace giving off a pleasant warmth and a window giving a view of the valley beyond, the sun setting between two trees. Much like the rest of the O’Doerery home, it was snug and cozy.

    The feeling of contentment vanished as soon as she saw there was only one bed.

    “I didn’t try anything, and I’ll...what’s the problem now?” Jamie asked.

    “There’s only one bed. Will you next inquire as to the color of the sky, or can you circumnavigate that intellectual quagmire yourself?” Caitlin asked in kind.

“There’s more than enough space for two, although we can use my sword as a buttress if you want. I offer to sleep on the floor, if it really bothers you.”

It was difficult to tell if Christiansen was being sarcastic, so just in case, Caitlin gripped the lone pillow, slammed it down on her side, and greedily wrapped herself in the quilt, leaving none for him. Facing away from the knight, she said: “Don’t even think about coming over to my side.”

“How am I supposed to know what is or isn't your side?”

“You’ll figure it out.”




Jamie assumed it to be a eighty-twenty division in Caitlin’s favor, so he laid his body down as close to the edge as possible. It would’ve been nice to have at least a bit of the pillow and quilt, and there was a serious possibility the Princess might murder him at any moment, but tolerating hostile sleeping conditions was a skill learned early in his training.

“Hey.” A whisper he opted to ignore.

“Hey!” A finger tapping him several times on the shoulder followed. “I know you can hear me!”

Unable to ignore to Caitlin, he slowly turned over. “Yes?”

“It’s bloody freezing in here.”

He gave her a confused look “How is that possible? You took the entire quilt and there’s the fire, how can you be cold?”

“I don’t know,” She hit back. “That’s just the way things are.”

“What would you have me do?”

Caitlin looked as if she were about to have her teeth removed during the most horrible busking competition ever performed without the benefit of anesthetic. “I suppose it wouldn’t be so awful if we huddled up. For warmth. And absolutely nothing else.”

Jamie was certain he misheard. Did she want him to...?

“Y-you want to cuddle?”

She let out an annoyed grunt. “No, there will be no cuddling, I just think it would benefit both of us if we huddled up because it’s cold in here.”

He closed his eyes for just a moment, if only to make sure to make sure this wasn’t some nightmare or a hallucination. If it were, he’d open his eyes and Caitlin would be gone.

No, she was still there, looking increasingly frustrated.

“Okay,” Jamie said, his voice not nearly as steady as he hoped. “We can cu-huddle up for warmth.”

After unraveling herself from the quilt, Caitlin scooched over and brought herself closer to him, along with the pillow.

“We can share the pillow, if you like.”

Instead, Jamie’s body reflexively tensed as Caitlin rested her head near his shoulder, draping her arms over him. He had little time to be terrified as he felt a surge of freezing cold between his calves, causing him to let out a very unmanly yelp.

“What? What’s wrong?” Caitlin asked.

“Nothing,” Jamie said. “It’s just your...feet.”

“My feet?”

“They’re very cold. I’m sorry, it just surprised me.”

Instead of yet another derogatory comment about his being a total wimp, the Princess retracted her feet and gave him a half-smirk, like she was trying to spare him further humiliation.

“You can put them back.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

They returned to their positions. When their bodies were fully entangled, Caitlin let out a small burst of nervous laugh.

“Is everything okay?”hit

“Your hairy legs.”

Caitlin Faraday, warrior princess, was ticklish.

On the one hand, that was adorable, but there was a serious possibility he might accidentally tickle her again. Jamie felt awkward with his hands at his sides, but there was no way he was actually going to touch the Princess, right?

As difficult as she was to deal with at times, Jamie knew she wasn’t capable of that kind of cruelty. At least, he hoped that was the case. He carefully moved his arms out from under her and delicately placed them on her shoulder blades.

“What are you doing?”

Jamie’s heart came to a violent stop. “Huh?”

Caitlin rolled her eyes. “I give you permission to actually hold me, not what you’re doing now, whatever it is.”

Swallowing the apprehension in his throat, he did as commanded: with infinite care, he pulled her closer. Given the size difference, she fit comfortably up against him. It was an extremely inappropriate thought, but Jamie couldn't stop himself from feeling Caitlin’s muscles, particularly noticeable in her back and arms. She wasn’t any more muscular than the typical female knight, but it was enough to impress him.

Another thing Jamie only noticed now was that Caitlin had a curiously earthy smell to her. Like fresh mountain air or lilacs. Something intoxicating, something Jamie wanted in his life. He could only silently pray she couldn’t feel his erratic heartbeat. In another context, this would’ve been an exciting development; the most beautiful woman ever to walk the planet being even more attractive should've been welcome knowledge, but the revelation only fueled his anxiety.

They lay there in silence for a minute before she broke it. “I can feel you’re very tense.”

Jamie almost swore out loud. “I’m sorry, Caitlin. It’s nothing you did, it’s just that I-” He paused. Have never done this before? Have had a massive crush on you for the past ten years? “I don’t mean to be so-”

“It’s okay,” She said, shifting herself to place her head near his shoulder. “I apologize if you feel I’ve been somewhat hostile, but you didn’t make it easy to trust you.”

“That’s understandable.”

“So, you’re agreeing with me?” Caitlin eyed him skeptically.

“On what?”

“That I’ve been hostile.”

Terror returned as quickly as it dissipated. “Uh, I didn’t say that. I didn’t say you were hostile.”

“But you didn’t disagree with me.”

Another silence followed, during which Jamie prepared himself for a violent death.

Instead, Caitlin snickered. “I’m only teasing, Christiansen. I promise I’m not looking for a reason to kill you.”

Too mortified to enjoy the relief, he shut his eyes and rested his head on the pillow.

Another minute passed before he dared to break new ground. “If you don’t mind my asking, Princess,” Jamie said. “Did you change your hair?”

“Yes,” She said with an adorably sleep voice. “You’re very observant.”

He smiled. “May I ask why?”

Caitlin inhaled deeply. “It’s more difficult to grab if it’s short and the darker color helps me blend in at night. I never really liked long hair, I kept it mostly to appease my mother.”

Chopped short to her cheeks and black as raven’s feathers was the superior option when it came to combating the forces of evil, but Jamie was having trouble deciding whether he preferred the current look or her previous styling; the long, flowing, golden-brown one that came down to her shoulders. Both made her look angelic, and she would doubtless look wondrous in any styling. Jamie thought she could be in a full set of chain-mail armor covered in blood and still look fantastic. Telling her she’d look good in armor might earn him a stern look, as it could conceivably be taken as a compliment to her skill as a fighter, but telling a warrior princess she was cute would definitely earn him a dagger to the heart.

“You don’t need my permission to say something,” Caitlin said, clearly on her way to the land of dreams. “And you don’t need to refer to me as Princess.”

“Oh,” Jamie said. “Okay.”

Several minutes of silence passed before he vocalized a curious thought. “I think you look beautiful either way, but I suppose I prefer-”

    A chill worthy of the Old Guardsmen of Winter’s Calling overtook Jamie’s body when he realized what he had just said. His heart ceased to function in preparation for its being carved to pieces.

            “I-I’m sorry, Caitlin,” He pleaded for mercy. “I don’t know why I said that. I mean, not to say you don’t look angeli-uh you could wear your hair any way you want, and my opinion doesn't matter at all, I was just suggesting that you-uh, that you.” When no form of swift vengeance arrived, he shut up. Amazingly, he received no form of response beyond the gentle rhythm of her breathing and the movement of her chest. Jamie closed his eyes, grateful his companion slept through the confession.

Several minutes later, once she was certain he was asleep, Caitlin looked up at him, smiling.






When Caitlin awoke the following morning, she immediately felt something was very, very wrong.

She was warm.

As much grief as her parents gave her, Caitlin was grateful for inheriting a number of positive traits from the king and queen; incredible athleticism, an unflinching will and belief in justice, a brilliant sense of humor, but one thing she cursed was her vulnerability to the cold. Thick pajamas was the bare minimum for a quality night’s rest in mild climates, and she was certain the chill of winter would prove fatal if she wasn’t bundled in the wearable equivalent of Lilith’s wardrobe.

Last night’s fire helped, but being snuggled against Christiansen was heavenly. He generated a frankly ridiculous amount of body heat.

Not to mention how big and muscular he was under all that armor. Being pressed up against his broad chest, her feet between his calves and his hands gently resting on her back was so cozy. Wrapped up in his big, muscular arms made her feel...content. Protected from the cold.

Not that she needed any sort of protection, especially from Christiansen, an oaf incapable of protecting anyone, but it was nice.

The gentle rise and fall of his chest indicated the knight was still asleep, but Caitlin couldn’t help herself from gazing up at him. Even compared to the legion of dukes and princes she encountered throughout the years, he was handsome. In an innocent, boyish sort of way, but extremely handsome nevertheless. Combine dancing blue eyes, a charmingly messy head of hair, a chin like a slab of granite, and a body resembling a statue depicting some mythical hero, she felt comfortable concluding there was a hoard of females willing to fight each other to the death for a chance with him.

Based on his behavior last night, though, he wouldn’t know what to do with the winner. He’d probably ask permission to kiss her hand.

How he was so clearly nervous and tense, the way he held and touched her like she was a glass statue, and the constant tripping over his words, she was surprised at how much she misjudged him. Luckily, she now knew he was vulnerable to cold. There weren’t many scenarios where she could conceive it’d be prudent to use her bare feet instead of a sharp object, but Caitlin felt it was always helpful to know an opponent's weaknesses. A sly smile tugged at her lips at the idea of a big, brave knight like Christiansen being brought down so easily. She almost found that...endearing.

“Oh, God,” Caitlin thought to herself. “I’m starting to sound like Lilith.” Yesterday, she was on a single minded journey to prove herself as a warrior, and now she was in bed, prattling on about the hunky and handsome Christiansen. What was it about knights? Bravery, strength and honor were admirable traits, especially desirable in a partner, but Caitlin was beginning to wonder if every woman in Amorado was born with a bizarre disease that rendered them helpless if a knight of the so much as gave them a passing grin. Not even her own mother was immune! She had to leave, before her thoughts became even more disturbing.

Trouble was, something told her there was nothing waiting for outside of bed besides an icy chill. Abandoning this toasty cocoon they made for each other would earn her nothing more than a date with the Christiansen-less cold. Moving towards the Imanese Mountain meant the temperature would only drop from this point forward. What was so wrong with wanting to stay in bed a little while longer as long as she could control herself?

Caitlin took a deep breath and snuggled against Christiansen’s side. A few more minutes rest couldn’t hurt. Just a little cat nap, and they’d be on their way.