The scorned princess

He kissed her one last time. He had to go. His injuries were no excuse for staying anymore. It was time to go back to the war, the very same one that brought him there to begin with. A war that had already been raging for more than a year and to which no clear ending was in sight. They wouldn't meet again for some time, maybe weeks, maybe months, and if the gods truly were against them, maybe it would be years. But the man didn't seem anxious about it. He had a plan. Whenever he would be able, he'd come to get her, to sweep her off of her feet, to marry her. She had already agreed to it. If he had to wait a dozen years to make her his bride, he felt like he could do just that. He could go through all the horrors awaiting him if she was to be his afterward. "I'll come back. No matter what, I'll come back to you." Maggy tried to hold back her tears. In the few weeks he'd been there, he became her whole world. He gave her back a part of herself she thought had died years ago. "I'll wait for you, even if it's a thousand years. When you come for me, I'll be there," she said, her voice cracking. Tears welled in her eyes and her lower lip was quivering, yet, she tried to hold it all. She would not send him away like that. Mustering her strength, she finally stepped back, looking up at him. Her watery eyes met his and she smiled. A crooked smile, one that was full of sorrow, but smiled. If fate never pulled them back together, she wanted his last memory of her to be smiling. He brought to her world so much happiness, so much light. That ... was two years ago. He still wasn't there and news of the empire's victory had already echoed through every village, no matter how far from the capital they were. But her soldier never came back for her. Every day, Maggy woke up and wished he would appear at the door of the clinic. Every day, she went to bed, telling herself it would be the next. It was never-ending. "Maggy, dear, could you go to the inn, their daughter fell ill again. Nothing serious, but it's quite far and ..." "And your old bones won't make it?" she answered, teasing her old mentor as she always did. Since she was exiled from her home, Maggy lived in the clinic with the old doctor. He took pity on her, five years ago, when she was starving. He offered her a job as his assistant and, since then, she never left. He took care of her and the young lady would also do the same in return. It was a peaceful life, something she came to enjoy. Something that started killing her when her soldier didn't come back. She took the medicine he was holding out and put it in her basket. She would stop by the market on the way back, she decided. That day, she was in a good mood and felt like cooking a feast. She has always been a busy bee, keeping her hand and her mind occupied. And it helped not to think about how she ended like that, how the soldier never came back, how her own family turned their backs on her. So she did everything she could to never stop moving. Including cooking and cleaning, even though she wasn't good at either of them. Her errands went smoothly. The innkeeper's daughter, Annah, was a regular patient of theirs with her weak health. Since Maggy had started working at the clinic, they had to be together way too often. Being the same age, they ended up getting quite close. So the girl kept Annah company for a while before deciding to head back. When she left, the sky was coloring itself with tones of yellow and pink. The young lady hurried along the path back to the village, not wanting to be out at night. It always scared her a bit. One never really knows what hides in the shadow after all. She still made a quick stop at the market, selecting a few nice-looking vegetables and fresh bread. When she arrived close to the clinic, she immediately noticed something was wrong. An elegant carriage was parked in front of her home. As dark as the night sky with extravagant gold ornaments. This could only mean one thing. Maggy anxiously licked her lips. What was it this time? What had she done again? Then a thought crossed her mind. She never told Leon, her mentor, her almost adoptive father, where she came from. Colors left her face as she dropped the basket. Hurrying to the door, they could hear the words of a man she didn't quite know : "Princess Margaret is to come back to the imperial palace at once, by order of his majesty." The voice was stern and didn't leave any place for any arguments, but the old Leon still answered : "I knew she was not anybody, but a princess ... Not quite what I expected." his tone was pensive, but not really surprised. He added, on a lighter note, almost as if he was making fun of the stranger: "Anyway ... she's not here. Come back tomorrow." "That will not do. I shall wait here for her." "and leave in the middle of the night? What's the hurry?" this time, he had a little snark in his voice. "yes." The two men stared at each other in silence, as Maggy, right on the other side of the door, couldn't find it in herself to move. Her head was full of questions. But the most important one: why was she summoned back?