Tamina found herself stepping onto the balcony for what must've been the thousandth time that week. It overlooked her beautiful city – a city she helped rule with her husband, who was loved by all. He often mingled with the commoners in the streets, played with the children. Tamina had never heard of royalty doing such a thing, but strangely enough it didn't bother her. Two months ago, before their rushed marriage, she would've scorned anyone who associated with commoners. But something about Dastan had changed her. He was royal, not by blood, but by the goodness of his heart, a concept that many would ridicule. He was a good man, one that truly cared about his people, even though many amongst them were thieves and cutthroats. He too had been a street rat in his youth. Tamina still saw a bit of that side in him occasionally – like when he scaled high walls for fun, or stole her jewelry (just to drive her crazy). And boy, did he drive her crazy. Tamina had never been a patient, kind-hearted person, but sometimes…oh, sometimes Dastan made her want to stomp her foot and scream.

But he protected her.

Even though many other men lusted after her for her beauty, she knew nothing would come of it because her prince always had a protective arm around her, daring anyone to come closer. And although she did not always want to admit it, she felt afraid when he wasn't there to protect her. She had grown used to the feel of his well-built arm around her waist, guiding her gently through groups of ogling men, nodding his head politely yet warningly at them in turn.

And as she stood on the balcony, feeling the cool night air tickle her face, she knew that she loved Dastan. They had only been married for two short months, but somehow…it felt so much longer. The prince sometimes looked at her with familiarity in his eyes, like he shared her secrets. He respected her and didn't force her to do anything she didn't want to do. He was the ideal husband for any woman, Tamina knew that. But why was she so unsure about her feelings? What made her doubt her affections?

A few days earlier she had overheard a heated argument between Dastan and his father. His father was demanding why they had not yet consummated their marriage, to which Dastan replied that Tamina wasn't ready. The King, flabbergasted at this break in tradition, was very upset with his adopted son for the rest of the evening, and Tamina felt bad that she couldn't let on that she knew what was troubling her husband. She felt guilty that she put him in this situation, but what he had said was true – she wasn't ready. Would she ever be? She knew it was expected of princesses to have children within a year of their marriages; how cruel it was to feel pressured into having a child.

Oh, how she wanted one. She wasn't exactly the kind of person to gush about her love for children, but she had a maternal instinct within her that longed for one of her own. Tamina knew Dastan would make a fantastic father, but she had doubts about herself being a mother. Was she really willing to get fat and endure huge amounts of pain just for a baby? Dastan's baby?

Now that changed things. She smiled to herself, running a hand along the cool sandstone of the balcony. Motherhood was what she wanted. She could feel it in her bones.

But she wanted her husband to come home. He had run off with his brothers to fight – where, or for what, they hadn't given specifics. But she needed him home. She had had trouble sleeping the past few nights because she couldn't hear him snoring. Waking up was depressing because she wasn't curled against him. Breakfast was lonely because no one spat pomegranate seeds at her when she wasn't looking.

She wanted Dastan to come home.