Author's Chapter Notes:
Will be continued soon.
She breathed in deeply and stretched her hands, taking in her surroundings. Small room, only window blocked with wooden paneling. Bare stone walls. Floor covered with worn but soft rugs. A large fireplace dominated one corner. There was a chair in front of it. A sturdy-looking bed stood in one corner, and in front of it laid large wooden trunk. Everything looked old and worn, but clean and tidy.
“I didn’t even know you have your own room.”
“I do. I just don’t spend that much time in here. This is… we are on the roof of the main building. Nobody except me comes here. Ever. Make yourself comfortable. I’ll go to the crypt and visit your father…” Logan was walking towards the door.
“Logan?”
“Yes?” He stopped.
“Do you… Do you really love me?”

He had hoped she wouldn’t remember. Wouldn’t remember the words he had whispered when he had thought that they wouldn’t matter anymore.
“Logan, please… Answer to my question.” His hands curled to tight fists. He shook his head slowly. Tried to form the only suitable answer, only appropriate answer to her question. And couldn’t say it out loud. Couldn’t lie to her anymore.
“Yes. I love you.”

He left the room before she got her mouth in working order, but he thought he had heard her answering through the door he locked. He didn’t want to dwell too long on the fact that she was most likely as much in love with him as he was with her. That wouldn’t be their future. She was still from royal lineage. He was still just a guard. And he already had an inkling of what Xavier wanted to discuss of.

He stomped around in the crypt, leaving his footprints, dragging the roll of heavy rug and blanket around until he reached his destination. A stone casket made for her. Made for Rogue. He opened it carefully and threw in the rug and the blanket, then closed the lid and sealed it with a substance that would in time melt stone and mend the lid and the casket seamlessly together. In a fit of anger he unsheathed his claws and scraped them over the casket, decorating it with three distinctive gauges and splintering his claws in process.

While Logan was away Marie was making herself comfortable. In her case it meant trying to find out more about the man she had lived her whole life with. Trunk wasn’t locked. It was filled to the brim with clothes, paddings and different pieces of armor. And from the bottom of the trunk she found a package. Carefully wrapped to several layers of thick wool. A simple dress made out of finest silk she had ever seen. Beautiful, modest, light piece of fabric. Almost snow white, little yellowed from age. There were brownish speckles on it. It took her a while to realize what it was.

She folded it neatly and wrapped it carefully back inside of wool. Logan’s wife had been wearing that dress. Brownish speckles were her blood. Logan wouldn’t want anybody to lay their hands on it. She closed the trunk and sat on it, letting her gaze roam over the room. Logan had been telling the truth. Place looked almost like nobody even lived in there.

She tried not to do that, but her mind kept drifting back to Logan’s confession. The way his whole body had tensed. The way he had practically spat the words out from his mouth like they were poison before marching out. He knew she loved him. And that she had hoped him to return her feelings some day. Why did it felt… Less than disappointing now that the truth was out? How had he managed to make it sound so wrong and dirty all of a sudden? And why? She was no princess anymore. She was just a girl. Just Marie. Just as she had often imagined in her dreams, just an ordinary girl, free to love anybody who she wanted. Unless of course… Unless Logan thought her now to be repulsive. Disgusting and soiled because of what had happened. And there was her brand new skin. The skin that could not be touched. He wouldn’t want a nuisance like her in his life.

She stood by the window, trying to pry open the wooden paneling when door opened and Logan stepped in. He looked tired. Tired but excited. And nervous.
“What happened? What did my father wanted to talk to you about?”
“He has made so arrangements. There’s a small estate at the countryside. Few days’ ride from here. He has arranged my retirement there. You’ll be leaving tonight. Your father has arranged you an escort.”
“What are we going to do once we get there?”
“Your father is going to pay you an yearly allowance. I don’t know how he plans to hide it from Scott, but I’m sure he has something figured out already. You stay there, keep quiet and present no claims over the throne when time comes and everybody’s happy.”
“Should we pack? You’re going to bring your belongings, aren’t you? Yes. We should pack. Why didn’t you bring any trunks with… You… You bastard! You’re not coming, are you?”
“Marie…”
“Fine. When do I leave?” She asked, forcing a cold edge to her voice.
“As soon as the sun sets. Somebody’s going to come and take you there. I have some business to take care of in the town, so…”

He shuffled his feet, his eyes darting between the toes of his boots and the door. Marie was angry. She was hurting. Disappointed. But it was better this way. It was the right thing to do. And when she made no move, didn’t even bother to say goodbye he turned on his heels and walked out, closing the door behind him.

Xavier had known all along. He had understood Marie’s mutation. But he couldn’t reveal it when there were so many people in the room. To the kingdom Marie had been as good as useless. That had been the reason he had sought out Logan later. To thank him for what he had done.

When Logan had walked in to his room, Xavier had been sitting by the window, his shoulders hunched and head bent, tears streaming down his cheeks.
“I have no choice but to abandon her. There’s too much at stake, and as long as she stays free woman, Scott has no right to seek union. There’s a small estate… Her mother was born there. I have arranged everything. Rogue… She must move there. Tonight. I think Scott is already suspecting something. And you, Wolverine… Prepare yourself. Robert used his right to choose a fighter for himself. I was hoping he wouldn’t have remembered that old law, but…”
“Fine. Do you know who he’s going to call?”
“One of his droids. If I were you, I’d consider my next move very carefully.”

The blacksmith was still at work. The man only nodded and retrieved the lump of metal from its hiding place when Logan walked in.
“I need you to take care of the bellows. Hot coals aren’t enough. They have to be blazing like the pits of hell,” the blacksmith said. Logan nodded.
“Once we start this there’s no going back. It has to be done right away. Once the metal cools down, it’ll come indestructible and it can’t be melted again.” Again Logan nodded.
“I can’t give you any guarantees. It’ll hurt. You may die.”
“I can take the pain. And dying won’t be an option.”
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