Rivalen rose again at the princess’s command, but kept his gaze fixed on the floor. After his last blunder, he wanted nothing more than to leave Roxanne’s chambers and hide away in his own room until the tension dissipated. He wondered what was wrong with him. Normally he had no problem keeping his emotions in check in order to deceive someone. He had done so on many different occasions with the knights in Oldpine, putting on a confident face so they wouldn’t see his fear, or feigning innocence when caught in the act of using magic. He had even lied right to the king’s face! But somehow when he tried to look Roxanne in the eyes, his mind went blank and he could no longer think straight. For a moment, he wondered if he had been enchanted, but he quickly discarded the thought. The princess might have had an enchanting beauty about her, but she was no witch. Whatever it was that was causing his wits to fail, it wasn’t sorcery.

Rivalen lifted his gaze from the floor as Roxanne offered him the scroll upon which she had written her schedule. He looked from the small paper in her hand to her olive green eyes, only to see his own anxiousness reflected in them. Knowing that the princess was just as nervous as he was, the warlock felt a strange mixture of relief and concern. He was relieved that he wasn’t alone in his discomfort, but he was also worried about why she was uncomfortable. He doubted Roxanne was anxious for the same reason that he was. After all, she was royalty; she probably thought of him as nothing more than a commoner who only gained a position in the castle by the grace of her father. There was no reason for her to feel the same nervous excitement that he did at the thought of being alone together in her room... [i]Oh, God.[/i]

Quickly banishing the unseemly idea, Rivalen attempted to distract himself by holding out his hand to take the princess’s scroll. He hoped that perhaps once the exchange was made, Roxanne would tell him that his work was finished and he could retire to his own chambers until he was needed later. Unfortunately, however, it wasn’t that simple.

When Roxanne placed the paper in his waiting hand, Rivalen felt her linger for a moment longer than she needed to before she let go of it and pulled away. He hesitated, his eyes moving from the princess’s face to the paper she had left in his grasp, before he took the scroll and busied himself by looking over its contents, wearing a focused expression so the princess might not notice his perpetual discomfort—though maybe it was too late for that. He couldn’t help but wonder if she had been toying with him by letting her hand brush against his for that extra moment; if she had already realized how completely foreign this situation was to him and was using his fluster against him… But, then again, that didn’t explain the color in her own cheeks and the anxious way she avoided his gaze. Just what [i]was[/i] going through her head?

Exhaling in quiet frustration, Rivalen skimmed over the list Roxanne had given to him, though he found himself admiring her handwriting rather than memorizing her schedule. The words were artistically crafted compared to the messy scrawl of the peasants—or at least of those peasants who could read and write to begin with—and they flowed with a certain elegance that naturally drew his eye. He wondered absently if she was taught to write in such a manner or if she had developed the calligraphy on her own. Either way, the scroll looked more like a work of art to him than a mere to-do list.

Rivalen lifted his gaze from the paper when he noticed Roxanne get up from her seat at the desk and walk over to the platter of food on her bed. Unsure of whether or not she wanted him to follow her, he remained standing where he was until the princess told him to pull up a stool. He felt another brief flutter of anxiety in the pit of his stomach as he did what she asked, picking up one of the stools by the foot of her bed and setting it down near the side upon which she was sitting, and had to remind himself [i]yet again[/i]—he was beginning to marvel at his own forgetfulness—of his original purpose in the castle. Being alone with the princess was only a side effect of that mission; he couldn’t let it overshadow his father’s plans. So, when Roxanne started bombarding him with questions, he had regained his bearings enough to think his answers through.

“I found my room perfectly fine, and I assure you, I’m not that mysterious, My Lady,” Rivalen said with a shrug, slipping the scroll into his pocket and sitting down on the stool. “My life before I came here isn’t very interesting, either.” He thought for a moment, sorting through his memories as he tried to determine what he could tell the princess without raising any red flags. He didn’t want to resort to inventing a new childhood for himself, but being a warlock, much of his true past was filled with magic. Most of his adolescent years were centered around running from the knights with other sorcerers, watching them get caught and executed one by one… and dreading when his own time would come. He shuddered as he recalled when his mother became one of the captured and his father took him into hiding… But, of course, he could tell none of this to Roxanne.

“I’ve helped my father work in the fields since I was just a child,” Rivalen lied, forcing himself to hold Roxanne’s gaze so she wouldn’t suspect that he wasn’t being honest with her, although he couldn’t help but cross his arms as he went on. “Life in a small village like Oldpine is hard. Everyone has to put in their fair share of effort, from the youngest boy to the oldest man, or there aren’t enough workers to pay off His Highness’s taxes.” He looked away from the princess, wincing as if he recalled a painful memory. “My father has been in poor health since my mother’s passing, so he is finding it more and more difficult to tend to his fields as of late. These past three years, I’ve almost completely taken over his responsibilities.” He looked up at Roxanne again. “But that’s why I came here. I hope you’re not offended, My Lady, but I didn’t just take this position for your sake. I am proud to be able to serve you, but I’m also here because my father needs the extra money to pay His Highness’s taxes. If I can send home a few silver coins, it should be enough for him to get by on his own.” He held a finger to his lips, which curved upward in a secretive smile, “Please, would you keep this just between us? Your father believes I am only here to protect you and I fear that if he discovers my ulterior motive, he may send me home and my own father won’t be able to pay his taxes.”