Cende sits in a couch, her feet tucked under her, as she is curled up around a book, tea sitting and steaming by her elbow. She looks up as the lock turns, her eyes wary, then her face lights up in quiet pleasure as Theowyn steps in.

It is much later in the evening then one would consider appropriate for visits. Theowyn warns with a firm knock on the door before he steps within the room. Much like before he wears the same disguise of a commoner cloak over some average looking clothes. His features are more anguished then pleasured, and as he leans against the door, he doesn't exactly look to Cende but instead finds a comfortable place on the floor to look too. For once, he says nothing.

Setting aside her book, Cende stands and quietly moves to the man who has come in. Her low voice drifts to him "Theo, love. Here.." she reaches for his cloak "Come in, it's cold. There's tea. Sit, love, tell me what's wrong." A gentle tone, offering comfort and shelter.

Theowyn has his back pressed against the door still, and is rather reluctant in his motion away from it to allow Cende to take his cloak. He does comply, though there is still a vagueness in his eyes. Again, there's a bit of silence, but he makes his way to the table.

Settling back into the couch, Cende watches Theo carefully as she pours a cup of tea for him and simply waits for him to speak. Her eyes remain on his face, watching his movements and his expressions, content to simply be in his presence once again.

Theowyn adjusts the belt of his sword, finally deciding to make himself more comfortable. Those cool blue eyes finally find the courage to seek her out, though even in this motion there is some avoidance. "What am I to do with you?" he finally asks, though there is an 'I give up' sort of humor in his voice.

A lightning flash of smile, and a soft laugh "Anything you want to?" A light note of teasing is in Cende's voice, but questions are in her eyes, and her hand reaches out to brush Theo's lightly before pulling back.

"Cende..." Theowyn begins, showing hiints of his frustrations as he settles forward in the chair to lean his elbows on the table. "Things have changed. And I am having trouble dealing with the change, and the past, and it all coming together." Again, his eyes drift away, uncertainty showing. Not a common trait on the prince, that's to be sure.

"Things have changed, yes." Cende's voice is still quiet, but the tone has changed to seriousness now, tinged with a faint hint of sadness. "Temporarily, I thought to make the situation easier for you, but you forbade that. Theo." Her voice holds an unconcious note of command that had never been there before, and her eyes are steady on his lowered face "We have both changed, and I.. I see things and I interpert them now in ways I do not like. My past is what it is, and even though it haunts my present, I had thought that you were my future." She pauses, uncertain quite how to go on.

The emotional tides of the letters are having their affects, much like the beating sea against the rocky coastal line. Theowyn's eyes brush up once more, past her figure and to her eyes. That 'Gaidin' appearance is anything but that, and even his usual royal smugness is somewhat of a passing fad at the size of his turmoil. "I'm sorry..." he begins with words that are barely whispered out. "What I did is horrid. Each letter reminds me of my faults. I'm sorry for allowing my heart to open to another..." Again, his voice trails, shifting to the table. "I morned for you, Cende. By the end of my time in Cairhien, I thought you were gone. When I returned to the palace to realize that indeed there was no word from you, I thought that was it. I should have known better, I know that now."

Softly, her voice barely reaching to Theo's ears, Cende admits "I was beginning to think that perhaps you had.. been untruthful with me. That you had only seen me as a means to warm your bed, someone different than those you are surrounded by. It would explain your decision to replace me, so quickly in Cairhien." Her chin lifts in quiet pride "I thought you were my future, Theo, but I have doubted recently that I had ever been yours."

"Cairhien was a means of escape," Theowyn's words come with gasping dramatics that resonates with his emotional anguish. "There was no replacement of you. I hardly saw the Cairhienin Princess, but for the times she wished to look for her little Andoran play-thing. And none of the playing involved the bedroom with that one, though she certainly did try." Theowyn stops there, finding some comfort in moving the subject in another direction. "In truth, I waited. Waited for word. I was in Cairhien for a full year, not having anyone asking me about what happened with that pretty commoner woman named Cende I was to marry. Cairhien was a learning experience. A passing. And closure." Theowyn blinks a few times, his hand moving out to reach for Cende's. "I did not think I would have the opportunity to have you as my wife. Then I believed it. Finally, I dealt with it. Not sure what that means, my love. I don't. But it is not easy."

Quietly standing, Cende crosses the room. Picking up a wooden box, she looks at it for a long moment, then turns and returns to the table. "I couldn't risk it. I thought I couldn't risk them knowing how I felt, that I still felt. That you were still a target for them." She opens the box and upends it. A small flurry of paper falls out - letters, similar to those that have been coming to the Palace, the same strong hand, and the same paper. Nearly two years worth, some long missives telling of times, some simply short notes of love.

The simple words Cende speaks after that are almost inaudible "I promised."

The chair shifts against the floor as Theowyn stands. "I'm sorry..." he manages, but it barely emerges past the tears that threaten to take form on his eyes. "I'm a fool. I'm honestly a fool that has already betrayed you. And betrayed the princess that I love. Perhaps you are right, leaving for the Blight would be best. At least there I will come to a justice I would be worthy of."

Tilting her head to look up to the man, one of the so very few that are taller than she, Cende frowns and shakes her head quickly "You can't leave, Theo, you are needed here. There is no justice in the Blight, only understanding or death. And understanding can be gotten in other ways." She turns, and carefully puts the letters back in the box, her movements smooth. Clasping it, she says with a quiet sigh "They are ment for you. Take them, if you want them." Turning, the light material of her night dress swirls around her legs, and she moves close to the distraught man, reaching to place gentle fingertips on his chin "Theo. My love. What do you want now? For yourself?" Her voice is quiet, still laced with the pain she feels, but attempting to be warm, comforting, even so.

Theowyn looks to the box, then turns away to lean against the table. "That box will likely bring me as much wealth in truth as it wlil in pain, my love." He hesitates, having been faced with her last question a few times in hinted form, this time it is out there in the open. Theowyn's eyes cloud over with a vague pain that is every bit a part of him now as it was before, though now he faces it directly. "Your letters, they tug at my heart. Each word, I read over and over. Sometimes I'd read them at night, then still find them in my hand in the morning when I woke-up. Faced with the memory, faced with the love that could so easily weave into you... to sink into the pleasures of the heart and body with you. To make you my wife...." a longing sets in his voice, as a fist tightens. "And to lose her. I can't."

Cende responds softly "You must lose one of us, Theo. I cannot live a half life of being your mistress, able to see you only when you can get away, when you may spare a moment and can be assured of no scandal. I doubt that her pride would allow her to tolerate such, either. And your own heart would continue to rip into two. I never intended to force you to make a choice, I thought you had already chosen." She shys away from that, and is quiet again for a long moment, before gently saying "You will have to choose. I had thought to take that choice from you, but you will not accept that."

"As much as I want us, Cende, I can't," Theowyn's bluntness sets him sinking against the table. "I want you here, I want to be near you, to have you as a friend when times are troubling. But, I can't. I'm not the same man as before. As much as you know me, as much as sometimes I know you can hear my thoughts, I'm still not who I was. Too much has changed, too much has happened. Too much has already been lost."

Cende nods, and turns away. Her motions are graceful, but nonetheless effecient as she takes her packs, and slowly begins to fill them, rolling clothing and weapons both. She pauses as she reaches a pair of golden, shell-shaped combs, gifts from long ago, then quietly places them on the box of letters, the meaning fairly plain as she slowly begins to strip the room of the little that made it hers.

Theowyn does not release the breath he was holding for some time, but when he does he pushes away from the table and turn to Cende. There is little pause in his motions, as he begins to move toward Cende's locaiton. "And that's it, you will leave?" he challenges with no challenge in his voice, that dagger in his heart twisting deeper and deeper.

Cende finishes buckling the pack shut, and carefully places it to one side before turning. "No, it's not it. I have to introduce the Duchess and her husband to the guards I found for them, and give those men their instructions on keeping her safe. Then yes, I will leave. You have made your choice, Theowyn, and while I could only wish it were different, it is not, and I think I knew even the first night I returned and I learned of her that it would not be." The fact that her heart is breaking is plain in her eyes and the shaking of her voice, but she attempts to retain her pride "I have a place I can be, where instead of causing pain, maybe I can make a difference in stopping it. And R.." A pause "The lord of the scouts told me I was welcome back if I needed a place."

"Of course," Theowyn mumbles quietly. The Prince does not stop watching her, his eyes roaming across her as she begins to pack. Doubt will set in over his choice, of course, as wil many questions of 'what-if' that will never be answered. And with his love to Elyse, there is always the chance of taint, of unfounded blame for losing Cende to her even though it was of Theowyn's choosing. The emotions continue to mix, and indeed Theowyn does find the wall near the door the lean against. That confidence that carries in each of his moves is shattering, at least on this. All the words that nearly reach his lips never come out, each time being held back.

Finishing the last pack, Cende carefully lays out clothes for the next day.. almost a uniform but not quite, except that the borderland coat has a patch depicting a coat of arms on it. With the clothing is the inevitable weaponry, and finally she is done. It is now her turn to not look at the man holding up her wall, "I can't.. I won't write, Theowyn. When you leave, that will be the end of it. For ever." Her voice breaks on the last, her head lowers.

Theowyn's hand reaches into the pocket of his shirt, retrieving the pendant that Cende has worn for over two years until recently. It lightly flickers in the light, as he holds it in his fist. "This is still yours..." Those words are vague on emotion, his eyes searching for her. "I ..." Closing his eyes, he drops the fist that holds the pendant.

Cende turns, wiping the tears coating her cheeks with the back of her hand. Shaking her head, she whispers "No.. I am no longer yours. I cannot wear that which made me yours. And I don't.. don't want to be reminded of promises that are dust."

Theowyn's hand reaches for the door. "Peace favor, my love. Your journey will fill the hearts of those you touch with warmth, the safety of those you swear to protect, and offer the strength of those that wish to fight along your side. If a time ever should come that you could serve under the Queen, a position of exceptional honor will be offered." Finally, a whisper. "I only wish to battle at your side once more.. there being nothing we could not over-come. But the Wheel Weaves as it Wills." The door opens then, Theowyn moving out of the room, the cloak she had taken from him forgotten.

Waiting until the door shuts behind Theo, Cende finally sinks into a chair, giving into muffled sobs as her heart breaks.

Theowyn escapes into the hallway of the Inn, and slips through the back stairs that lead him to the cool breeze of the autumn air. He moves with purpose, shifting through the back gardens in the stealth of a Warder, moving to the front of the Inn once more. Theowyn enters the stables after some haist, taken a lantern for light. The stableboy directs him to Cende's horse, making no recognition of Theowyn, though certainly gleaming at the coin he received. The Prince approaches the horse with care, but makes no attempt to come within reach. Not initially, but soon he finds the stables a refreshing escape. He does his own weeping there for part of the night... until his strength gathers, so that he could return to the palace.