Even here, in the midst of the beautiful tended gardens of the capital of Aclea, the scent of the sea called to her. The princess turned her face towards the breeze and took in a deep breath. Unbidden, her mind raced backwards. Jumping and dancing over the years to the memory of the gentle face she’d taken such care to carve from her aching heart. A flash of a teasing smile. Gentle eyes the color of crashing waves. Warm hands. Soft lips... “My dearest Arya, are you even listening? I am being quite charming, if I do say so myself, and you are simply missing all of it.” A voice cut through the trail of Arya’s thoughts. She shook her head gently and returned her attentions to the Prince strolling beside her. Of course. She was here for a reason, and a good one. An important one even. She must marry. She must make a proper alliance with a strong nation. The King of Aclea was certainly the best choice, but Aulus had become quite a good friend. A decent second choice if there ever was one. “Of course, Your Highness...” She teased back in return, squeezing the forearm she held gently with one hand and adjusting her parasol to cover them both. “You almost certainly were regaling me with a story of the latest courtier you managed to offend simply by speaking truths they did not wish to hear, am I incorrect?” It was a pleasure to watch the bristling of the Prince beside her. He reminded her so much of a preening peacock for how much he disliked being noted while so sharply noting the weaknesses of others. “Truly, my dear Aulus, you are going to get yourself in quite some trouble if you do not learn to temper that tongue of yours.” “Why should I? As you have said, I am simply speaking the truth. If it offends, that is of no fault of mine. Perhaps the listener should spend some more time thickening their skin. You certainly have.” A laugh bubbled up over Arya’s lips at what, for Aulus at least, constituted a compliment and rolled her eyes. The pair were beginning to reach the crest of Willow Hill, hidden within the garden maze, that constituted the goal of their journey. Aulus for all his faults, was a good friend who had been shrewd enough to note her longing for a glimpse of the sea. And even if he did not know exactly the true reason for it, he had been swift to suggest the jaunt. “That is only because I am immensely clever, you see, and I discovered right away...” Her sentence trailed off, for the young woman’s heart began pounding in her chest as soon as they reached their destination and she looked out over the harbor. Sails. Foreign sails the like of which she had not seen in ten long years. Achingly familiar and yet there they were, sitting upon a ship in the harbour. Is it him? Is he here? He is alive? Did he look for me? What am I to do? “P-Pardon me, I... I had not seen the sea for some time, and I...” A nervous laugh, a smile she hoped would mask her anxiousness. “In any case, I was saying that I was simply clever enough to realize that befriending you was much more preferable to fending off your barbs alone.” Arya turned away from the prince in the hopes that she could contain herself before Jahnara arrived with their picnic. She would know exactly what the sails meant and would note her princess’ mood in but a second, which meant that her father would certainly be contacted and all would be lost. Foolish of you to even think he would be here. How can you even be certain it’s his ship? It could be anyone’s! Besides, he never returned. Certainly that is proof enough of how steadfast his affections truly were. It was a silly dream. You knew it then and you know it now. Remember your duty. Remember your people. They count on you for their safety and happiness. You cannot abandon them for a folly. And yet, as the pair rounded the eponymous willow tree for which the garden had been centered upon, a sharp pain like a hot lance pierced through the woman’s heart. She’d know that face anywhere. “Owen...?”