HANDKERCHIEF

"Yes, I do," I said fiercely, meeting his gaze so he could see how much I meant it. "I trust you with my everything, Luca. And don't ever invalidate yourself or your life. You matter, Luca. You matter to me."

Shut up, Lena. I quickly looked away.

'You matter to me.'

Oh, no. Why did I say that? It's so embarrassing! But wait… why am I getting embarrassed? It's normal for me to say that, right? I mean, it was normal two years ago… two years ago when I didn't have those weird feelings for him. Oh, heavens! What if he thinks I'm weird now?

My face was burning up as I raised my eyes to take a peek at him, afraid to see how he reacted.

Luca was smiling at me.

I wish he hadn't done that. Because my stomach would go into a confusing, excited flurry every time he did that.

"Thank you, Lena," he said softly.

I wish he hadn't said it like that. The flurry went crazy at the softness of his tone and the way he said my name.

"I will do my best to protect you. Always."

Oh, heavens. I'm melting inside.

I nodded shyly and bit my lip to stifle a grin. Like an idiot.

"That's enough for today," Luca said. "If we go any longer your body's going to be sore."

"I can still go on," I said stubbornly, ignoring the ache in my muscles. I wanted to spend more time with Luca. I didn't want it to end.

"We'll continue tomorrow, Lena. No point straining yourself on the first day."

Oh, well. At least there's tomorrow to look forward to. And the next day. And the next.

Luca walked me back to the palace before leaving to continue his other captain duties. I had a bath prepared and immersed myself in the bath for a long time. The warm water felt good on my aching limbs.

I met up with Cece in the solar room afterward. She was seated on one of the plush couches by the window, working on an embroidery. An assortment of fabrics, threads, and sewing materials was laid out on the coffee table in front of her.

"Hi, Cece," I said, plopping on the armchair opposite her.

"Lena, look!" Cece held up her embroidery hoop. "What do you think?"

"It's very pretty, Cece!"

She had embroidered her initials, surrounded by a pattern of flowers and vines on the small square of white fabric she was working on. Her needlework was clean and excellent. Something I would never be able to accomplish.

"Join me, Lena." Cece pushed an empty embroidery hoop into my hands. "There are tons of materials for you to work with."

"No, thanks," I replied, returning the hoop to the table. "You know I don't have the skill for it."

"Then develop the skill. There's no harm in trying. And it's really fun, you know."

Fun? I highly doubt it, I thought, repressing my distaste. "I've tried, Cece."

"Then try again. See here. Take your pick from these high-quality but plain handkerchiefs. Once you embroider a cute pattern on one edge, it won't look so plain anymore."

"Why bother?" I complained. "Regardless of any design, a handkerchief still serves the same purpose."

"Doesn't mean it has to look boring, Lena."

"Embroidery is boring."

Cece laughed. Of all the activities she had influenced me on, embroidery was the only thing I hadn't assimilated.

"Fine, but don't you think it's nice to have something personalized, something that's like a token that symbolizes you, in your possession at all times?"

"Huh?"

"Okay, think about it this way," she said. "When you finally meet your future husband… I mean, you're already over Philippe, aren't you?" she added quickly.

"Yes. Do not mention his name, please."

Cece didn't know about the whole story, but I did tell her I didn't want to have anything to do with him ever again. I'd made up some excuses about a fight we had before he had to leave.

"Of course. Let's change the scenario then. By some chance, you suddenly cross paths with a dashing and mysterious man…" she began dreamily. "And this dashing man appears to be wounded and is in dire need to stanch his bleeding… or maybe he could be just sweaty or dirty and needs something to clean himself up."

"What?" I said incredulously. "Sweaty or dirty? What in heavens are you on about?"

"Okay, forget that last part," she said, grinning. "Look, the point is, if you were to suddenly meet this man, and there is nothing you can offer to help him, except for one thing that's always in your possession. Your own token, your personalized handkerchief. You offer it to the man and tie it to his wounds. The handkerchief would get bloody and nasty, but who cares? The man thanks you and goes on his way, keeping your handkerchief with him. He gets home, gets proper medical attention, and when he sees your freshly-washed handkerchief, he sees your initials. He keeps the handkerchief to remember you while he scours the land to search for you. And then he does, and you find out he's a prince, or better yet, a hero from some distant nation, worthy of your status. And then you get married and you live happily ever after!"

I burst out laughing. "Cece, you are so ridiculous."

"Why? It's completely possible," she replied, ignoring my fits of laughter. "And that's why you should start embroidering right now. You never know when this hero will come."

"You've been reading too many books, Cece. That kind of scenario doesn't happen in real life. Plus, that's really creepy too. Meeting a 'mysterious' man out of the blue?" I laughed again.

"Fine. Then, do it for your future husband, then. I'm sure he'd want something of yours. Or, give it to your bodyguard. He'd already pledged his life to yours."

Her last sentence shut me up.

"N–no way," I stammered. "Why would Luca want something that's mine? That's just absurd."

"No, it's perfectly normal for women to give favors to men they trust."

Contrary to my will, Cece's idea began to take a more solid form in my head. I imagined making my own personalized handkerchief and giving it to Luca. Would he keep it? But again, that's just absurd! Giving him a handkerchief for no reason?

Unless…

Trainings tend to get really sweaty, doesn't it? If I were to give it to him after one of our sessions, you know, just casually…

No!

Stop it, Lena.

"Well, if you don't want to, then maybe I should give him mine then," Cece said. "You know what? That's a good idea. I'll make one for Luca. You can never have too many handkerchiefs, can't you?"

"Fine! I'll make one," I muttered, grabbing the hoop from the table.

Cece gave me a self-satisfied laugh.

It was a fact that my needlework sucks, but I'm just going to try a couple of times. If I make an acceptable one, then I might give it to Luca. Might.

I sighed and began fitting a random fabric onto the hoop.

The next day, I woke up with just a slight ache in my arms. Not so much in my legs and back anymore from yesterday, but the aching in my arms remained, probably enhanced by the needlework attempts.

I chose a loose and airy dress in preparation for this afternoon's training. I skipped the heels and wore flat leather shoes. I learned from my mistake. Then I went to my dresser and retrieved a folded white handkerchief on the top, which I carefully placed in my skirt pocket.

It was my 'acceptable' embroidered work. My fingers were throbbing from pricking myself numerous times by the time we finished up last night.

I'm just going to carry it around, I assured myself. It's not because I'm waiting for an opportunity to give it to Luca. No way.

But why shouldn't I give it to him? There's really nothing wrong with it. It's just a small thing and a gesture of goodwill if I did. Plus, what if he doesn't own any handkerchiefs? I'm sure he'd be happy to receive one. Right? I'm sure he wouldn't find it weird. It's just my overthinking brain going nuts.

I decided I would give it to him later.

My confidence died when I saw him that afternoon. My palms were getting clammy at the thought of giving him the handkerchief, afraid of how he'd react.

Luca must've been used to getting gifts from other women in the palace. I've seen the way they looked at him, and I hated it. If I gave the stupid handkerchief to Luca, then that would make me just one of them, right?

So, no. I'm not giving it to him.

The thought riled me up. I scowled at him.

It was his fault for attracting those women's attention.

He raised an eyebrow at me.

"What is it now?" he asked, sounding amused.

"Nothing," I growled.