"What time is is?"  Damion asked for the third time in two hours.

"Still six o'clock," Manny said cheerfully, sitting cross-legged on an upholstered chair in the corner of Damion's hotel room. "Are you going to wear a tie?"

"No.  Too formal.  I'm tired of being formal.  I want to feel myself."  He wasn't really sure what that meant.  It was impossible to detach himself from what he was, and it was growing worse all the time.  He couldn't imagine what it would be like knowing he had a kingship to look forward to, but the way things were in Taravren now, the presidency was nearly the same thing.  It would take a little time for the traditions to catch up with modern times.  He was just tired of having to portray the proper image 24-7.

Manny shrugged, looking him up and down.  "Dress shirt and slacks is still formal."

"Not like lapels and embroidery," Damion said wryly.  "And it's still my first day here.  I ought to be dressed up all the time.  I'm cutting corners as it is."

Manny grinned.  "What about tomorrow?"

"If all goes well, we can be casual tomorrow, blend and take a tour of the city," Damion said. "Just don't tell my father."

"Sounds fun.  You should buy a gift for your mother," Manny said thoughtfully.

"Oh, God, your right.  What would I do without you?"

"I'm your best friend, body guard, manservant and caretaker all wrapped in one, my Lord," Manny said with another mischievous grin.

"Spare me, Manny," Damion said playfully.  "What time is it?"

He laughed.  "6:05.  Calm down.  Why are you so nervous?  You wowed everybody with your confidence this morning."

"I don't feel exceedingly princely anymore," he muttered.  "Not now that I'm not wearing a fortune and I'm going to be alone with a very famous and beautiful woman.  And I don't have a whole lot else to think about."

"Consider yourself on vacation and relax."

"That would be nice," he assented.  He wished he had something to drink, though.  "What time is it?"

Manny sighed.  "Why don't you just go?  I'll walk around the city for a bit on my own."

Damion smiled gratefully and left without even a coat.  The night was pleasant.

Relena checked herself in her pocket mirror a block before the restaurant.  It was a warm night so she opted to wear a sleeveless sun dress in a brown and black pattern with heeled wooden shoes for street shopping.  She left her hair down, with only the front pieces pulled out of her face and clipped behind.  Her only jewelry was a pearl necklace and matching bracelet, which was elegant but not gaudy.  Taking a deep breath, she checked her make-up--not overdone--and walked the last block to the sea-side restaurant Damion had chosen.

He was waiting for her outside on the steps, leaning against a black polished rail and looking...entirely different than when she'd seen him this morning.

The pride and confidence were still visible, but so subdued she hardly noticed, and there was more of a young man's awkwardness about him now, full of self-consciousness with the desire to please a pretty girl.   She was instantly attracted, genuinely attracted, especially when he smiled and came to meet her when he saw her.

"We're both early," she commented.

He laughed.  "It's all right," he said, escorting her in by putting his hand behind her back without actually touching her.  She was used to that all her life.  "They kept trying to seat me when I was waiting just now, as if I wouldn't wait for you."

"It's a lovely night," she said.

"We can sit outside on the waterfront if you'd like," he suggested.  She nodded and he spoke to the hostess at the front desk.  She smiled and led the way back with their menus and seated them at one of the cute tables on the back patio, decorated with soft glowing lanterns.  The sea breeze was sultry and thick, but it felt wonderful, and the air was clean and crisp.  The sky was open and glittered with a million stars, each twinkling in its own space, faded only a little by the city lights.

"I take it back. It's a gorgeous night," Relena murmured in awe.  "I should take more nights off.  I haven't been out in forever."

Damion was watching her with an intense, thoughtful statement.  "You really do work hard, don't you?  Even in your own city where the people love you and would do anything for you.  Don't you have anybody who could take you out once and awhile?  Friends, family?"

She shrugged and blushed.  "There's a lot of work to be done.  Friends...  My friends are the people I work with, and my family too.  Milliardo is in Space with Noin, working on my project, and he's the only real family I have left.  My foster mother visits me occasionally, but she is not an active woman, and prefers talks over tea indoors."  Relena shivered.  "I think I would much rather be out in the open myself.  I'm indoors all the time."  She smiled at him.  "What about you?  I did not actually grow up in the Cinq Kingdom, so I don't really know what it is like to be a princess."

"You grew up with a friend of your father's, though, right?"

"Yes," she said, a touch sadly.  "I considered him my real father.  I didn't find out the truth until he was killed"

Damion looked abashed.  "I'm sorry.  That wasn't very tactful of me.  I only brought it up because your upbringing was actually very similar to mine.  I didn't grow up with my real family either."

Relena was puzzled.  "What do you mean?  You didn't know you were a prince?"

He shook his head.  "No, it's nothing like that.  I lived with my real parents until I was about twelve and then I was shipped off to live with another family for five years."

Relena stared.  "Why?"

He shaded his eyes and peeked at her from under his hand, smiling.  "You're really not familiar with this?"  He grinned, seemingly embarrassed.  "It's common.  Almost everybody does it.  Ask Dorothy if you like.  I'm sure she was moved around too.  When you're born to power and privilege it's easy to become spoiled, especially in your youth when you don't understand the real world and see yourself at the center of it.  As a young child it's not so bad, but when you get older it's common practice for royal families to...exchange their children in order to mature them.  In another court, I am still a prince, but not the favored son, and there are others more important than I in another country.  So I learned discipline and humility and was trained so I could return home as a real prince and not just a boy with fancy bloodlines.  My family would visit me or I them on holidays, but that's all.  And it's difficult to make real friends when you carry a title.  My only constant companion was Manny."

"Oh right," Relena said, still bewildered.  "I think I saw him with you earlier today.  He's your friend?"

"Yes," Damion replied.  "And a good one.  I trust him with everything I have."

"That's wonderful," Relena said sincerely.  "I didn't have a lot of friends growing up.  It would have been nice to have someone like that I could depend on.  Most of my friendships were shams.  They were nice girls, and genuinely kind to me, but we didn't share anything beneath a superficial level.  I have not kept in contact with any of them."

Damion nodded with a certain sense of familiarity.  "Yeah, me too, only most of my peers were either in competition with me, or scheming for my favor.  It's a constant headache."

"But I thought you said Manny was a friend you could trust?  Surely there are others?"

Damion chuckled.  "Manny's my friend, but he also calls me 'Master.' "

Relena blinked, not comprehending what he meant.

"He's my servant,"  Damion clarified.

"Oh," Relena said, not sure what else to say.

"It's not so bad as it sounds.  We've been together since we were small.  His family has always served mine and we grew up together, depended on each other.  When I was younger we used to pull pranks together and take field trips.  We even used to steal clothes and dress him up as another Lord's son so he could accompany me to places he usually wasn't allowed.  But, of course, we were always discovered and he was reprimanded and so was I.  When I went away, he came with me and as I was trained to be a prince, he was trained to be a prince's body servant.  Now that I've taken on some of the responsibilities of my inheritance, there is more of a division between us."

"There didn't used to be?"

"There always was some difference.  When we were children I would throw around "Remember, I'm the prince!" but he wouldn't always let me get away with it."  Relena laughed at the mock ferocity on his face as he recounted fond memories. "And he's knocked me down twice in the past, and we've been in more fights."

Relena laughed out loud.  "He knocked you down?"

"Manny's a boxer.  We got in a fight once--I can't remember what it was about; something dumb--and he knocked me down.  I was the one who got in trouble for it too, but I think it might have been my fault.  He did it again two years later, but that time he got in trouble.  We've both sort of grown out of that now, but I will always appreciate those memories.  Manny has always been true to me above anybody else, even my father.  I appreciate that more than I can say."

At that moment, their waiter came to take their orders.  Knowing Damion was wealthy and probably used to exquisite food, Relena had no reservations about ordering whatever she really wanted.  He did the same and as soon as the waiter left they both laughed.

"Did you have to order the most expensive thing on the menu?"  Damion asked jokingly.

"I might not get another chance!"  Relena shot back.  "Goodness knows you can probably afford it!"

"So I can," he said, leaning back in his chair.  "I'm not complaining about my lot in life, but I'll bet you have enough resources to order the best of everything yourself."

She smiled sheepishly.  "I do have assets," she admitted.  "And I make good use of them, but I don't spend them on myself a lot."  She blushed.  "Sometimes I do.  I just don't go out a lot."

He sat up. "You're too hard on yourself," he said,  "but wonderfully honest.  I don't think I've met a girl of your station as honest as you."

"You haven't?"

"No.  I told you; most of my peers are in competition against me or seeking my favor and they fake and lie through their teeth to get ahead.  I have to be careful."

"I'm sorry," she said sincerely.  "That must be hard."

"I'm used to it.  Most of them are not generally bad people; they've just been train to scheme and wheedle to succeed.  We all have are faults.  Most people hate me simply for being who I am and acting as I do, whether it's honest or not.  Generally, the Machiavellian prince rules better and with more respect than the generous, genuine type, but it's a sacrifice of yourself to learn to be that way, and I'm not sure I have it in me and not to care what regular folk think."

"The world is changing,"  Relena said quietly.  "Democracy is changing it.  Surely it is no longer necessary to rule cruelly in order to rule efficiently?"

"I know," he said,  "and I'm glad, but there are still expectations for families such as mine.  I will never be a true ruler anyway, for which I am both thankful and apprehensive.  It leaves me in a hollow place where my upbringing is more to my disadvantage and I shall never achieve what I was promised, but it is good for Taravren and good for the world, and I shall lose none of my current privileges, so I consider it a welcome turn of events in the long run."

"That is my decree you speak of.  There can be no kings without kingdoms, and I eliminated them."

Damion looked at her, the light of the stars reflecting in eyes the color of rain.  "The Romafeller Foundation and royal families have been in opposition for countless years.  The Foundation is made up of lesser aristocracy than royalty, people who would like to see us brought down and themselves raised up.  Your entrance to the scene was a stunning change because you were royalty, supporting the Foundation and discarding your self interest in hopes of making a better world.  The Foundation is a united body whereas the royal families are divided and at war with one another, so your forming alliance with them was more to your advantage than reaching out to the real leaders of nations.   My father applauded your move and stepped down from his throne.  The world has changed so much, kings and rulers are not what they used to be, and the position was merely ceremonial.  He is now President, and in possession of all the same powers he once had expect that he is subordinate to the World Nation.  Don't ever think you have done any of us a disfavor; the world will be better for it, and that should be the goal of ruling authorities anyway."

Relena was both moved and speechless.  "I was forced into taking that position," she said quietly.  "Duke Durmail manipulated me into becoming Queen of the World."

Damion closed his eyes and nodded.  "That does not surprise me.  Farnworth, Taravren's Security General, hypothesized as much at the time.  But obviously the Duke could not control you, because he would have put himself in your place if he could, but you won over the people, and the Foundation, and the World.  You brought peace.  Anyone who doesn't respect you for that is an idiot who does not comprehend the situation and politics involved.  And you are not an idiot, Relena." He paused.  "May I address you by your first name?"

She nodded.  "Damion," she began, and he nodded.  She continued,  "Thank you."

"For what?" he asked.

"For believing in me."

He smiled.  "You're welcome.  And thank you," he said.  "For being so honest, and such pleasant company."

When dinner came, their conversation turned more light-hearted.  Damion had a politcally-aware mind and shared her opinions on more matters than she expected.  She supposed it was natural that he would be well versed in the matters of the world, but he approached it in such a light-hearted manner she found herself laughing over matters she used to talk about with utmost seriousness.  Even so, he kept turning the conversation from what he called "work" and asked her about her family and her interests and dreams for the future.  Whenever she stumbled over something "work-related" he steered her away toward more personal desires.

"I should like to go riding more often," she admitted. "I used to ride a lot when I was in school and I haven't in a long time."

"Then let's go tomorrow," he said.  "There are a lot of green hills and fields in this area.  Surely you have stables?"

She nodded.

"Would you like to go?"

She nodded again, feeling girlish and almost out of her mind.  Horseback riding?  She had to work! "Can we go after lunch so I can get something done in the morning?"

"If you insist," he said, "but the morning is the best time to go."

She considered and finally ducked her head, hiding her smile and her flush. "Okay, we'll go tomorrow."

"Yeah? Can I pick you up at 6:00?"

"You really want to go in the morning."

"We can catch the sunrise."

"All right.  6:00 am, but don't expect me to be awake."

"Excellent.  Then I had better get you home so you can get some sleep.  You're probably exhausted from the day."

She was.  And they were both finished eating.  Damion stood and walked around the table to her chair, helping her stand.  She shook out her skirt and took his arm when he offered it.  Damion paid at the hostess desk with a credit card and then led her out onto the streets.   It was starting to get a little chill and Relena shivered.

"Now I wish I had brought my coat," he said,  "for you, not for me."

"I'm fine," she said.

He led her to the castle and she suggested they use the back entrance as it was smaller and more personal.  He led her around the back and up to the door without complaint.

"Goodnight," she said, standing one step above them.  She suddenly realized it would be appropriate to thank him with a goodnight kiss but wasn't sure how to go about it. What is he thought her indecent? And was she supposed to wait for him or make the first move, or was it okay to not kiss him and just see him tomorrow, or what?  "I had a great time."

"So did I," he said. He paused, seemed to search her face and then took a deep breath.  He jumped up to the next step and drew close.  "Can I kiss you?"

She nodded and closed her eyes.

As he leaned into kiss her, his warm breath mingling with hers, she had a sudden flashback of a different kiss, unlooked for and never explained.  But Damion was not Heero Yuy, and she knew that when his lips met hers and she tasted him.  He was confident, but not over aggressive, and though her heartbeat quickened, she didn't feel completely washed away.  It was a chaste kiss and he pulled lightly away, looking into her eyes to read what she thought.  Heero hadn't done that; he had vanished.  She smiled, thanked him, flushed, opened the door, whispered another goodnight, and shut the door softly.

Only when she was safely inside, leaning against the door, did she allow herself to breath regularly again.   The only word she could think of to describe what she was feeling was "odd," and even that didn't sum it up quite right.  So when she put on her pajamas and climbed into bed, she stared up at the ceiling and tried in vain to sort out her emotions.

Heero sat in the dark and watched Relena and Damion on their date.  He heard little of what they said, but he saw them laughing and smiling at each other and saw their eyes meet without awkwardness and he felt sicker and sicker and sicker.

He didn't know what he was doing here.  It was entirely inappropriate, but something strong and untamable moved deep within him as he watched the scene unfold and he wasn't sure if he felt more like crying or fighting.

And he definitely knew it was obsessive and sick to follow them home, but he had to know, and when Damion leaned in to kiss Relena he closed his eyes and refused to watch.  But what he imagined was worse than what actually happened and even when he opened his eyes to see the truth, he was uncomforted.

She liked him.  And he liked her.  And they had the world in common and he was wealthy and attractive and a prince.  And she was Vice Foreign Minister and beloved by the people.  And all Heero wanted to do was hold her and touch her skin and look into her eyes and kiss her lips, and the more he thought about it the more carried away he got.  And he hated Damion.  He was jealous of Relena and envious of Damion's place with her and he hated him irrationally and unforgivably.

So he sat in the dark with his head in his hands and tried to stop thinking about touching Relena's shoulders and neck and face and hips and tried to stop thinking of killing Damion or beating him, but he tried in vain and all the time he knew he was sick in the head and sicker at heart.