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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/campfires/item_id/1072240-Lost-Lover
Rated: 18+ · Campfire Creative · Fiction · Romance/Love · #1072240
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[Introduction]
Krista was a late bloomer, and when it came time for her parents to marry her off, her plain looks kept most suitors away. Wanting to be rid of thier "plain" daughter, the king and queen of Durbeck have her maidservant stand in when meeting potential suitors. One day, Krista finds out about thier treachery, and runs away. She'd rather live the life of a puaper and find real love and friendship then be a "burden" to her parents.
The sun beat against Krista's skin as she worked over the herb garden. Lucianna had an excellent garden, which she kept immaculate through hard work and alot of patience. There were all kinds of herbs, and if mixed correctly could heal many ailments. Marx weed ground with a pinch of Rosemary could fight infection on cuts, Cinna leaves boiled with honey and eggplant blooms could cure terrible stomach pains.
Krista had never planned to end up like this, by now she should be married and carried off to a distant kingdom. Just six months ago, she was Princess of the King and Queen of Durbeck. Once she reached marrying age, she was suprised when there weren't that may suitors. Nautally, in her girlish fantasies, there would be bundles of men fighting for the chance to swoon her into thier arm. That girlish fantasy was crushed when one day she came into the throne room to find her parent entertaining the suitor with her maidservant standing in as the princess!
Apparently, she was too "plain" and her uncharming looks would scare away suitors. Unable to cope, she packed a few provisions and fled.
Now here she was, dressed as a commoner, working with her hands. She had never been happier.
"Come along, girl! We must head o'er to the Baily home to check on William," Lucianna called as she came out of the cottage.
Krista smiled as she studied the old woman. She had intended on running as far away from her parents as she could, and on the first night she stayed here with Lucianna.
Lucianna had convinced her to stay, on the border or her parents land, and took her in as an apprentice.
"I'll saddle up the horse," Krista replied as Lucianna began to put jars of dried and fresh herbs into a sack.

King Marc Buzek stood on the high hill, survaying the land of Durbeck below him. A mocking smile came to his lips as his general came up behind him.
"When shall we mobilize the troops, sir?"
"Have a small team move ahead unnoticed to survay their malitia. The rest of us depart tomarrow morning before dawn," Marc replied.
"Yes sir."
Marc's eyes settled on the castle in the distance. Soon, all of this land, and that castle, would be his.
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"Brother, are you sure you want to do this?"

"You know my reasons, Duncan. It is not a matter of want," the king, Marc, said.

Prince Duncan sighed. "Yes, I know. But we have both heard stories, Brother: Durbeck's knights are unchivalrous in war and sport; they won't fight fair."

"The scouts have reported Durbeck's strength at half of ours, if that." Duncan said nothing. "You needn't fight," Marc added.

Gravely, Duncan replied, "I will fight for my king, but-"

At that moment, the general approached. "Your Highness, the men grow restless."

Marc nodded. "It is time."


News traveled quickly to Lucianna's cottage of the attack on Durbeck. Krista was not shocked as the rest of the people her parents ruled over seemed to be. But the fighting was far away, and her own lifestyle even more remote from that of a princess, war was easily put from her mind. Sometimes she wondered what happened, if her disappearance had set off some nobleman's temper, but that seemed unlikely. No sane man would start a war over a woman; that was the stuff of myth. Besides, she wasn't even pretty, nor had there been an impending marriage.
The war had gone on longer then Marc intended. True, his men outnumbered Durkbeck's by nearly half, but Durbeck's men were fighing on their land. They knew this land and used it to thier advantage. Not to mention how unfairly the Durbeck soldiers fought, they showed no mercy and used any unruley tactic they could.
But there were signs of them weakening. His men were able to push into the lavish lands belonging exclusively to the king. Most of the villages were under his control, but not some of the ones along the border. Their great distance kept them safe from his attacks, but they could be key to a swift victory.
Dressed in the standard issue uniforms of his men, Marc treded the dense land riddled with dense forest on the edge of a small villiage. He traveled alone along the south border while other scouts searched other borderlines, hoping to find a way to launch a supprise attack from behind. He padded carefully, using the forest as a camoflauge.
Suddenly, there was a quick zing and his shoulder was peirced by an arrow. Not heeding his wound, he grabbed his sword, looking for his attacker. All around him he heard footsteps, but was unable to see his attackers. Blurred figures jumped in and out of the bushes, stinging his body over and over. He fell to his knees, his body wet from the blood pumping from is wounds. With a final look heavenwords, Marc's eyes rolled back and he fell.

"'Tis a terrible thing, this war," Lucainna mumbled as Krista led the horse Lucainna rode toward the watering hole.
"I'm suprised that we haven't seen more of it," Krista replied lightly as the horse leaned down and began to drink greedily.
"Men of our village have mobilised thier own malitia to protect us."
"But why? I'd figured mother and father would've called for all able men to fight."
"You know the people here don't heed the word of the king. Besides, they must protect thier healers, in times of war, healers are high commodeties," Lucianna replied as she handed Krista an empty jar.
"There is some wild Keepa plant growing on the other side if the pond, go grab some."
"Yes ma'm," Krista replied with a smile.
Walking over there, Krista paused, thinking she heard a small moan. Ignoring it, she leaned down and began to pull the plant, doing her best to preserve the roots. One was snagged into the heavy brush just above her, and she stood up to tug harder. Suddenly, with a loud crash the brush gave away and a man rolled to her feet.
Krista jumped back with a startled cry, too frightened to move.
"Krista, get back here this instant!" Lucianna yelled.
Hearing the man issue a small moan, Krista leaned down to give a closer inspection. The man's body was slashed open with many deep cuts, the worst resembling a spear that was plunged into his stomach. She hesistantly lifted a hand and ran it over his chest, feeling a slight rise as he took a painfull breath.
"Lucianna! He's alive!" She called over her shoulder, pulling at his armor and tearing away his clothes. Tearing at her own dress, she began to tightly wrap his wounds.
"Get away from him! Are you foolish?" Lucianna said harshly as she came up behind Krista.
"Lucianna, we have to help him!"
"He is one of the invadors, whats to stop him from having his men come here to rape and pillage?"
"Please, he needs our help. You said that the cruelest thing for a healer to do is to refuse treatment when we are able to save a life," Krista pleaded desperately.
Lucianna paused, and after taking a fearfull breath, she replied "all right, we will help him."

Marc fought his way from the dark swamp of nothing, reaching toward the light, toward the softest touch...
With a moan of pain, he opened his eyes to slits, finding the most beautiful wman he'd ever seen leaning over his body. She quitely hummed a soothing tune as she rubbed ointment over his wounds.
He must have died. The pleasure of her fingers were wasting away his pain. He'd give anything to have that feeling last forever.
Clearatly finally hit through his groggieness and he slowly took a peek around his surroundings. He was in a tiny cottage, filled with drying herbs and the fresh smell of earth. There were no chains holding him down, and there seemed to be no soliders looming about.
With all the strength he could gather, he reached out and caught the woman's hands, growling "Where the hell am I?"
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Krista yelped and pulled her hand away from the wounded man. Though his hold was weak, his action - and words - startled her. She could almost see Lucianna shaking her head behind her.

"You are in a healer's cottage, Sir."

Marc bit back a groan. He was not in the mood for witticism. "Yes, I imagined that. I suppose it is too much to hope that I am out of Durbeck?"

The woman held a cup of water to his lips and replied, "Correct."

A short, round table, Marc noticed, was set up next to him, topped with a wooden tray. His angel ladled some steaming broth onto a spoon and indicated that he should drink. He swallowed it, then said, "What motivation have you for helping me? I could bring destruction to your village."

An older woman's voice sounded from a darkened corner. "That's what I told her."

Krista ignored her, and said, "Most healers only ask for small boons and pittances for payment. Now that you are consious, you should know that I plan to make your convalescence miserable unless you grant me one favor."

Krista would never actually carry out her threat, but she hoped the knight would not call her bluff. He seemed to consider her for a moment, then said, "And what is it you would ask of me?"

"I assume you are a knight, and as such have access to your king." Marc nodded; he had been knighted, and he certainly had more access to "the king" than anyone else in his kingdom. She continued, "Then I would have you ask your king to stop this war. I'll give you some time to consider."

She turned and let herself out of the cottage door, the old woman following. Distantly, he could hear her laugh and say, "Well played m'dear."
It had been nearly an hour since the women left; and Marc was no closer to making a decision. He'd tried to move and see how severe his wounds were, and it seemed that he was in no shape to do anything. If this woman witheld teatment, he could still die from infection and bloodloss. Yet, he could not, would not stop this war. Durbeck owed him a debt, and he intended to see it repaid. Perhaps he could resaon with her. From his observations, most villages fought his men to prevent rape and pillageing, but once they realised that all his men wanted was occupation, many willingly and happily surrenered power to him. They held no loyalty to Durbeck, they just happened to live on this land.
The dressings on his wounds began to itch. If the woman didn't change them soon, they would get infected. He'd have to keep his wits about him if he were to reason, and his key was the woman.
"Healer!" He called, craning his neck so he could see the door.
Krista stood just behind the door, and nearly ran inside, relieved that he'd called to her. If he had waited any longer, she would have gone in to fix his dressings without his agreement to stop the war. She had feared that he would call her bluff, and came very close to doing so. His dressings needed to be changed to prevent infection.
She let out a slow breath and composed herself before stepping in.
"Have your reached a decsion, my lord?" She asked, hoping she didn't sound shaky.
"What loyalty do you have to Durbeck?" He asked.
Krista's mouth dropped, but she quickly recovered as she walked over to the table and buisied herself with crushing herbs in a bowl.
"Why do you ask?"
"In all of the Dubeck villages I've seen, none of the residents hold any loyalty to thier king. You and your friend are far enough away to have no worry of attack. Why ask such a request?" He replied shrewdly.
"Obviously we are not so immune, hence your presence here," she replied.
Smart girl, Marc thought to himself. He offhandedly wondered if she were married.
"I hold no loyalty to Durbeck, my lord. My fears are in preserving the peace amung Durbeck's people," Krista continued.
Krista quitly scolded herself, that definately made her sound regal. The last thing she needed was for this soldier to find out she was Durbeck's missing princess.
"I can offer no guarentees, my lady," he replied quitely, playing his last card. The itching in the dressings was unbearable.
"I belive you are lying, my lord," Krista replied as she turned and seated herself next to his bed. In her hand was a bowl of a creamy mix of herbs. She set that on the table and folded her hands on her lap.
Damn the woman, she was stubborn, Marc thought as he looked whistfully at her hands. He would give anything to have them softly moving over his body again.
"I know the king's reasons for attacking Durbeck, and he will not relent. They owe him a high debt."
"Then settle the debt without any more bloodshed," Krista replied tightly as she began to change the dressings. She could see the man's discomfort and could no longer withold treatment.
Marc nearly groaned in pleasure to have her hands on his skin again.
Marc reached up and covered her hands with his own, "I give you my word that I will try to prevent more blooshed."
"Please have mercy on Durbeck," Krista asked.
"I will do the best I can, that is all I can offer."
Krista nodded, and returned to her work. Marc watched her face, she definately had the face of an angel, his angel.
"What's your name?" he asked.
Krista was starteld by his offhand question, and quitly replied, "Krista" avoiding his eyes
"Krista," he murmered to himself before he lost conciousness again.
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"What news of the war?" Marc asked Krista a few days after she had issued her ultimatum.

"Buzek's king is missing, and is presumed dead. His heir has commanded the armies to retreat-"

Marc cursed silently - his fool of a brother would loose the war for him!

"-but the conquered villages have not removed the Buzek standard. It is supposed that armies regroup; rumor has it the prince-heir is angered beyond measure," Krista continued, unaware of her charge's wavering concentration.

"Have you heard anything else of Prince Duncan?" Marc asked, somewhat relieved that his brother might not be such a fool after all.

"He has issued a statement that he will not be crowned for one year or until his brother's body has been found."

Marc smiled weakly. Duncan was ever practical. His thoughts turned to Krista, who was bandaging him for the umpteenth time. She didn't look like she belonged to the common class, but his mind had turned this thought over many times, and he finally decided her family must be impoverished nobles. He wanted to keep her talking. She was his link to the outside world, his window to a world of lovliness, and his medicine for lonliness, but more importantly, she was fast becoming his first choice for a queen.

"Is it true that Durbeck lost its princess?"

Krista looked up quickly, then cast her eyes back down to her work. "I am sure they are only rumors, Sir knight. Can you truly imagine Durbeck's king allowing anything in his possession to slip away from him?"

Marc did not particularly care if the princess was in Durbeck or half-way across the world. No, his current priority was winning Krista's heart and and taking her back to his country.
"You're healing nicely, my lord," Krista said as she lifted a bandage to find a nearly healed-over wound.
"Marc," he corrected.
"Oh...we'll after a day or so your wounds will be healed enough you'll be able to move around without fear of re-opening them."
Marc's eyes narrowed, that means in possibly five days or less he would be strong enough to leave. Not without Krista.
Marc leaned up, bringing his face close to her's, whispering, "I might re-open them just so I can feel your hands over me again."
His lips brushed hers, but at the sound of the cottage door slamming, Krista jumped back, her face red as she looked from Marc to Lucianna.
"The gardening needs tending to," Lucianna said tightly, her eyes not leaving Marc.
"Yes ma'm," Krista replied, and left.
Lucianna continued to stare at Marc, her stance that of a protective bear.
"I see the way you look at her," she finally said.
Marc's head fell into the soft pillow as he forced his tense body to relax.
"And?" He replied, allowing his usual authoritative attitude to seep through.
"And that makes you no different from any other man who has been healed by a woman. By the second day they are filled with infatuation, planning on sweeping the woman away with ideals of love and bliss. It won't last. You will heal and forget her. I will not allow her to be hurt like that."
"I intend to take her and treat her like a queen."
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Krista knelt in the garden ripping out weeds, furious with herself. She would have let herself go, let him kiss her and who knew what else if her mentor hadn't come in. Hadn't Lucianna stressed keeping an emotional distance from all her patients? It was practical advise, though she had initially believed it was for cases where the injured party could not be saved. More the fool she!

Lucianna wandered into the garden. "Krista-"

"Lucianna, I'm so sorry-"

"Shhh, it's alright. I know it's hard; the same thing happened to me when I was but a year into my apprenticeship. He convinced me of his love, even wanted me to run away with him. He promised me the world, and after I gave myself to him, he left me. I won't have you make the same mistakes I did, Krista. Men's words are hollow in a situation like this."

Krista nodded and kept silent. The old woman's tale certainly gave her much to think about, and first on the list was to leave any feelings for her charge at the door.
Marc was growing frustereated. For the next few days Krista was distant and Lucianna was always hovering nearby, not allowing him any privacy. He sat up in his bed, flexing the muscles in his torso. His body was still sore, but he was alive. And it was all thanks to his angel. True, he had heard of soldiers falling in love with the women who healed him, but he refused to belive that he was that weak-minded. Krista deserved to be pampered and loved, not work under the hot sun or tend to sick men. Marc gave a low growl, the thought of her hands running over another man's skin, even in the act of healing made his stomach churn. He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and shakily stood up. True, he was no were near full strength, but his wounds had healed nicely. Today he would be able to leave.
He reached for his clothes and weapons, noting that they had been washed and all holes were stitched. Just as he finished dressing Lucianna walked in with a sack.
"Here is food for your travels, Sir Knight. One of the villiage boys found your horse, it is waitinig outside. Marc ignored the sack she offered and asked, "where is Krista?"
"Do not bother, you'll never see her again."
"Can I not even thank the woman who save my life?"
"I will convey your message to her," Lucianna replied as she shoved the sack to his chest and walked out.
A few minutes later Marc mounted his steed and made way down the road. He had no intention of leaving without Krista. Once he was out of sight, he tethered his horse and began searching for any clues that would lead him to Krista. Soon enough, he found her footprints and followed them to a valley where she was picking wild flowers.
Krista sat amung the beautiful flowers as her thoughts traveled to the soldier. Lucianna had ordered her to this field so that Marc would not see her when he left. She knew Lucianna was trying to protect her, and did not blame her. For the last few days, her fear of her growing attachment to him led to days of tight or no conversation.
Krista had resolved to never see him again. It would be for the best. After all, for all she knew he already had a wife in his own land.
Krista looked up at the sound of a twig snapping to find Marc slipping out of the brush and walking toward her.
"My Lord...what are you doing here?" Krista asked fearfully as she stood up.
"I want you to come with me," he replied once he reached her.
"What?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Come with me, I'll take you to my kingdom and give you life fitting of a queen."
Lucianna's story flashed through Krista's head.
Krista took a hesitant step back, before replying, "I cannot go with you."
His face deepened into a scowl, "why not?" he growled.
"You are my patient, nothing more, please understand."
Instead of replying, he took a threatening step towards her.
"Please, my lord, just leave, your fellow soldiers must be worried about you."
Marc didn't reply, instead he reached out and grabbed her forearm. Krista gave a small cry of fear, "I will scream, Marc. The men in the villiage will hear and come for me. I won't be there to heal you next time."
Marc slowly released her and stepped away.
"Mark my words: I will be back for you," he growled before he dissapeared into the forest.
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Marc strode into the palace of the king of Dubeck as though it were his, with Duncan at his back and several more of his men following. It had been a fortnight since he had left Krista, though she had not left his mind. After confiding in his brother, they had come up with a plan to stop both the war and win the young healer's hand in marriage.

"You must leave your weapons at the door," a guard said outside the room where Dubeck's king held court.

"Do I look fool enough to be here unarmed?" Marc snapped, and the guard, trembling, allowed the party to pass.

They walked into the room. Marc stopped right in front of where the king, Jonathon, sat, and without any courtly etiquette, said, "Have you learned anything yet, Jonathon?"

He scowled back at Mark. "Oh, this was a lesson, was it?"

"No, it was pre-emptive warfare."

"Surely you don't believe that I would start a war with Buzek?"

"I caught several of your spies in my lands. Besides, you mobilized your army too quickly to not have been planning something. What I ought to do is end any and all threat right now."

"But you won't?" Jonathon was visibly shaken, his voice laced with fear.

"I would have you consider my offer for a truce before I challenge you." Marc paused. "First, I keep the villages and towns that have surrendered."

The other king sputtered. "That is nearly two-thirds of all Durbeck!"

Marc let his hand stray to the hilt of his sword. Around the room, men loyal to both kings were drawing their weapons. Jonathon at last held up his hand, for he knew his foe would easily slaughter him. "What is your second demand?" he asked weakly.

"I will wed a daughter of Durbeck." Marc purposely kept his choice of woman ambiguous, but Jonathon did not hear it in that manner. "You would marry Princess Krista?"

Marc fought to keep the grin off his face. Perhaps this plan would work out even better than he anticipated.
"But...Princess Krista isn't here," Jonathon stammered.
"And why not?" Marc demanded, the peices falling into place.
"She is missing, perhaps you were the one who took her!" Jonathon accused.
Marc did his best to hide a smile. Had Krista not threatened to scream, Jonathon's accusation would be correct.
"My terms stand, Jonathon. Will you accept them or shall we go to war?"
Jonathon couldn't belive what he was hearing! Buzek knew his daughter was missing and still choose to marry her. Perhaps the high king hadn't seen how ugly his daughter was, but it didn't matter. At least this way he could wash his hands of Krista completely.
Jonathon stood up, replying "it is agreed."
Marc ignored Jonathon's outstretched hand and turned to leave. He'd been away from Krista far too long.
"Stay here and negotiate the rest of the terms," he instructed Duncan, "Keep a majority of the men here, I will take a small party with me."
"But, where are you going?"
"To fetch my bride."

Word of the cession of war reached Lucianna's small cottage. Her soldier had held up his end of the bargain. Despite her happyness, Marc's parting words echoed in her mind. Would he follow through with that threat and return to forceibly take her?
Krista dug into the soil, venting all of her frustration. Every time she went into the village she would find herself looking over her shoulder. Damn that man for taking away her peace! She was tired of being afraid.
Lucianna knelt down next to Krista.
"You'll kill the roots if you dig any harder," she whispered.
"oh, sorry Lucianna."
"I know its frusterating, dearie. This part of being a healer is always the hardest."
"Do you really think he'll come back?" Krista asked, looking into the old woman's kind eyes.
"Do not think too much of it. He is back with his bretheren, I'm sure within a few days they will be leaving to return home."
Just as Lucianna finished, both heard the sound of approaching horses.
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"In the house, quickly!" Lucianna commanded.

It rather sounded like an entire army was heading their way, and she wasn't going to take any chances. They scrambled inside and barred the door, then hid in the darkest corner of the hut. Moments later, there was pounding on the door. When neither woman answered, whomever was there tried to open it. "Krista! Mistress Lucianna! I know one of you is in there!"

Marc growled. During his entire stay, the door had been left unlocked so that anyone who needed assistance could enter freely. There was no way to lock the cottage from the outside, so someone had to be in there.


Krista trembled and looked at her mentor. "Why would he be back?" she hissed.

Lucianna said nothing. It was possible she had been wrong, that soldiers were not all alike, but she had not been willing to take that risk then, and she was not going to now. "Hush, dear!"

But they looked at each other, wide-eyed, when he finally shouted, "Krista, Princess of Durbeck, as part of the peace treaty you have been commanded to wed King Marc of Buzek!"
"How does he know?" Krista asked shakily. Tears were beginning to pool in her eyes.
"Shh!" Lucianna whispered as she dabbed a tear that escaped down Krista's cheek.
Lucianna wrapped and arm around Krista and held on tightly, embracing her as if she were her mother. She needed to think, there must be some way she could protect Krista.
"He doesn't know you are here," Lucianna whispered, before standing up.
"Lucianna, no-"
Lucianna quickly turned and shushed her.
"Stay there and be quiet, no matter what," she ordered.
Krista nodded and shrunk back into the shadows.
Lucianna took a steadying breath and composed herself before she calmy opened the door.
Marc stood there in his kingly garb, looking the part of incenced royalty.
"Where is she?" He asked, his voice low and cold.
"She isn't here, sir," Lucianna replied.
Without invitation, Marc barged passed Lucianna and stalked inside.
"Then where is she?"
Lucianna kept quiet.
With a grunt of annoyance, Marc began to search in the cottage.
"No!" Lucianna called when the came across Krista's hiding place.
"Take her out of here," he ordered as he crouched down near Krista.
"Lucianna!" Krista called as she bolted up to aid her mentor. Marc easily grabbed her and she found herself pressed firmly against his body.
"Sssh, angel, you're safe," he whispered against her temple as she began to cease her struggles.
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"They won't hurt her, will they?" Krista asked as she stared helplessly after Lucianna, who was being escorted from the cottage by several large men.

"Never," Marc assured her.

"Why did you come back? You should have forgotten about me by now."

"Is that what the old woman told you?"

Krista shrugged. "It is the truth."

He turned her around to face him. "Believe me when I say I shall do anything for you, but I shall not loose you. I love you." Without waiting for her to reply, he kissed her. At first he was gentle, coaxing her into responding, but his hunger quickly drove him to deepen the kiss. Krista was lost in a rush of feeling, so she almost did not hear young William Baily enter.

"Miss Krista!" She whirled out of Marc's arms to face the boy, striving to keep embarassement from her face. "Miss Krista! My brother was helping Stanly Rogers build his new house, and he fell from the rafters! Father and Stanly are bringing him now!"

She pushed away all feelings toward Marc. This, she thought, was where she belonged. She couldn't go back to court life. Besides, Lucianna needed her. The woman was too old to take care of an injured man by herself.
She attempted to move away, but Marc's arms tightened around her.
"Let me go! They need my help," Krista ordered. Marc held her against him a little longer before relecutantly releasing her.
"How far away are they?" Krista asked as she began to follow the boy out the door with Marc trailing close behind her.
"Not too far," he boy replied.
"Let go of me you barbarians!" Lucianna called as she struggled in the arms of a soldier.
Krista turned to Marc, and with a sigh he nodded toward the soldier who immediatly released her.
"I'll get the bed ready and start smashing herbs," Krista began, turning back towards the house.

Once the boy was brought in, chaos broke loose as Krista and Lucianna began to work on the boy. Marc leaned against the wall, his eyes narrowed into slits as he watched Krista's magical hands work the wounds on the boy. This was a boy not age of sixteen and injured, yet Marc was sitting there fuming with jealousy. Lucianna had ordered everyone out of the cabin, but Marc steadfastly refused to leave.
After a few hours of working on the boy, he was soon strong enough to be transported home. The father ran home and came back with a hay bail for the boy to ride home in. Lucianna would check on him tomarrow.
As they rode off into the distance, Marc came up behind Krista and began to rub the tention out of her shoulders.
"It's time, angel. Go pack your things."
Krista moved away from his touch, "I'm not going with you," she said as she turned to face him.
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"Your father-"

"If I cared about what my father wanted, I would still be at the palace!" Krista snapped.

"I don't think you understand, love. Your father has consented to our marriage," Marc said calmly, though inside he was confused. She had responded to his kiss, and he was sure she had feelings for him. So why was she so against leaving with him?

Krista looked to Lucianna for help, but the older woman only shook her head sadly. "If it is the king's command-"

"Two kings," Marc ammended.

"If it is commanded by a king, there is nothing I can do."

"I understand." Krista sighed; even she couldn't refuse a royal command. Worse, she wasn't entirely confident that she wanted to stay. "It is too late in the day to leave, regardless," she said to Marc. "Perhaps you should tell me what happened."
Marc smiled, and choosing to ignore that subject for now turned to one of his men.
"Set up camp, we'll be staying here for the night."
Lucianna captured Krista's hand and tugged her away from Marc.
"We best cook something for them."
Marc didn't rease his hold on Krista. He pulled her back into the circle of his arms and lightly kissed her forhead.
"I cannot cook for an army by myself, sir," Lucianna cut in.
Marc's arms tightened around Krista before slowly releasing her.
"I have to go check on my men and make sure everything is ready for our depature tomarrow."
Krista's cheeks grew red as she quickly walked away and followed Lucianna into the cabin.
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The road was uneven, though the horse Krista shared with Marc seemed to have little trouble navigating it. She still wasn't sure just how he managed to get her out of Lucianna's cottage and heading back toward her father's palace. Krista sighed. It took less than a day to reach it on foot; riding would get them there twice as fast.

She hadn't deigned to speak to Marc since he had apparently abducted her; reluctantly, she did so now. "You haven't told me what all this is about." She gestured toward the men accompanying them.

Marc knew he would have to answer eventually. "I made you two promises, love. The first was that I would end the war, and the second that I would return for you. The latter happens to achieve the former, which, I might add, you specifically requested."

That was not strictly true, but he was determined to have Krista however he could get her.
Krista's mind turned over what Mark had told her.
"But how did you know I was the princess? My father couldn't have offered me because he didn't know where I was," she asked.
Clever girl, Marc thought to himself.
"I did not specifically request marriage to the princess in order to cease the war. While negotaiting with your father and hearing rumors about the missing princess I merely came to the conclusion that you and the princess are one and the same, and you are the only thing Durbeck has to offer me that I want."
Leaning her head back into his shoulder, Krista fell silent, the position giving Marc a delicious view of her exposed neck and ample bosom. He supressed a small groan, knowing that by nightfall he would be able to sample her charms.

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