The sun rose the next day on an outwardly-changed Warin. Bathed and dressed in the finest clothes, his hair loose on his shoulders, he stood in the windows of his father's old chambers, now his own. "I shouldn't have left, Teacher," he said to the dark figure beside him, "but I do wonder why I've returned."

"You had to. You know this," said the Teacher gently. "You could not leave this kingdom to your brother any more than you could have left the Princess with him."

"I came back for her, and only her, truly."

"Then it is a good thing for us all that you found love in the forest, your majesty, for Hildin's regency was indifferent at best and cruel at worst. If he had succeeded in his plans to kill you and inherit the magic--your father's, and control over mine--it would have been an evil, evil thing for the people of this land."

Warin looked out onto the pleasure gardens below his window, then started and stared. Walking hesitantly in the gardens among the flowers was an unfamiliar figure--a young woman dressed richly but all in black, her hair and face covered. She looked up at the castle and Warin realized with a shock it was the princess. "Emmae," he whispered.

The Teacher put a hand on Warin's shoulder. "Don't. Let her be."

"I can't let her be, don't you have any feeling inside you at all?" snapped the new king. He ran to the doors opening out onto the terrace above the garden, and took the steps two at a time. She stopped in her aimless ramble, and looked for a moment as if she might bolt. He checked his stride, and she reluctantly resumed walking.

He fell into step beside her at a respectful distance, but didn't try to take her hand as he would have before. "My lady, you are in mourning."

"My husband is dead, it's only right that I dress in black, your majesty," she replied softly, not meeting his eyes.

"Did you care for him that much, then?"

She looked up at him, eyes hard even through the black veil. "I despised him," she said coldly. She looked down again. "Nevertheless. If I am dowager queen, I cannot completely ignore protocol. I shall wear mourning for him. For one day and one day only." She quirked a corner of her mouth at him and his heart lifted.

"I shall be glad to see you in bright colors again," he said. "I am glad to see you at all, to be truthful."

"I missed you too." They walked on in silence, stopping whenever the princess found a flower too tempting to leave on its stem.

"I'm sorry," Warin finally said.

"For what?"

"I'm sorry I couldn't get here sooner. I'm sorry I just assumed you'd still want to marry me." He chanced a glance at her; she was resolutely not looking at him but focused instead on the forest beyond the gardens. He followed her eyes. The rest of the Travelers had caught up and made camp at the edge of the woods, their caravans bright against the cool green, and he winced. "And most of all, I'm sorry I didn't tell you who I was, or what had happened to you."

"You should be. You should be very sorry." Her voice quavered with suppressed anger. "When did you discover my enchantment?"

"That first night, after--I knew there was something wrong once you'd fallen asleep, and I cast a discovery charm of my own. But I swear I didn't know who you were."

She stopped abruptly, staring at him. "So. The whole time."

"I couldn't lift the spell, its nature was beyond anything I could do, but I couldn't leave you alone and unable to care for yourself in the dead of winter to find the Traveler Queen--nor could I bring you with me. Only think what could have happened if I'd taken you out of the forest!" he pleaded. "I left you alone to come to me of your own free will after that night. I waited, and you came to me. I wanted to win you fairly, and I thought I had, but--I want to win you again. I will do anything you want, anything to earn your forgiveness and for you to love me again!" Warin started to reach for her, but stopped himself. "What must I do?" he whispered.

"I don't know," she said. "I want to be left alone now." She dropped the flowers she'd gathered and ran as fast as she could back to the castle, her long mourning veil tangling in the rose thorns so badly that she left it behind. Warin watched her go. After a moment, he bent down and picked up the discarded blossoms. He patiently detached the veil from the thorns and slowly retraced his steps to his apartments, his expression as black as the cloth in his hands.

"Don't," he said to the Teacher as he came back into the room. "Just, don't."

"I would never reproach you, Warin" came the quiet reply. "You know how to woo a woman, but this one is wounded. Give her time. Be steadfast and patient, and woo her properly. She will be open to your suit in time."

That night, the princess would not come to the great hall for dinner. But when her tray was brought to her in her rooms, she found the flowers she had dropped, arranged in a little nosegay tied up in simple ribbons with a little note:

For a moment, the maidservant thought the princess would throw the flowers across the room, but then her face softened and tears formed in her eyes. She set the little posey back on the tray and said, to the maidservant's relief, "Please find a vase for them."

Even so, she didn't leave her rooms the next day, or the day after that, or indeed, for a whole week. Finally, her father came to her rooms and demanded admittance. "When d'you think you'll be done with this sulk, young lady?" Fredrik said sternly as he swept into the room, though he pulled up short when he saw her bloodshot eyes and pale face.

"Sulk?! Papa, how dare you say such a thing to me!" answered the princess, a little of her old fire returning. "I have spent the last six months a captive, and you dare to call it a sulk when I choose not to sit with one of my captors at dinner!"

"Surely you're not accusing King Warin of holding you captive!" said Fredrik, shocked.

"I don't know," said the miserable princess. "But he knew, Papa, he knew what had happened to me and took advantage, and now I don't know how I feel."

Fredrik patted her hand. "Well, my dear, I suggest you sort out how you feel soon. He has asked for your hand and I have given it--now, don't look at me like that! He has also said that he will only marry you when you agree to it and not a minute before. But I have business of my own to attend to back in Leutefloss. I can't stay here for months and months while you make up your mind. And you are my only heir, barring a miracle from my latest mistress--" here she glared at him-- "Ehm. Well. The fact of the matter, my dear, is that you must marry someone, and soon. You have a month to decide whether that man is to be King Warin. After that, we shall return to Leutefloss, and I will be entertaining suitors for your hand, for the good of the kingdom."

He braced himself, waiting for one of her usual tantrums. Instead she nodded and looked away, shoulders shaking, and his heart broke for her. He gathered her into his arms. "Oh, Papa!" she sobbed as he rocked her in his arms as he hadn't done since her mother died.

The princess continued to eat all of her meals in her apartments looking out over the King's Woods, not far from the room where she'd been held captive. But on every tray, she found some small gift from the new king. One time, it was a little wooden rabbit like the one on her broomhandle, obviously carved by Warin's own hands. Another morning, instead of her usual dainty breakfast, Warin sent her a good thick porridge, and she laughed for the first time since the spell had been broken. The next day, there were three daffodils on her tray; she never learned how far he'd had to send to find daffodils still in bloom. He sent her a little pillow made of rabbit fur and stuffed with lavender, her unfinished embroidery from the cottage--anything he could think of to remind her of the happy days they had had. Finally one morning, he sent her the ring he'd traded his furs for in the village, a simple golden band.

That night, she came down to dinner for the first time since her enchantment ended. She sat on the other side of her father, who sat next to Warin. "My lady, are you well?" the new king asked.

The princess blushed and refused to meet his eyes, but said "Tolerably well, your majesty, thank you." Throughout the dinner, she shyly answered his attempts at conversation, if briefly, and he was overjoyed to see that, just as she had said she would, she had put aside her widow's weeds for a blue dress the color of her eyes.

But, he noted sadly, the ring was not around her right ring finger. He wondered if it ever would be, but he remembered what the Teacher had told him: Be steadfast and patient.