《How The Princess Rewrote Her Tragic Ending》


 Chapter 1 - Kick-Off

    "Reynardˇ­.What. The. Frick."


    "Relax, Your Highness." He smiled, tightening his grasp on my shoulder. "It''s not like I''m taking you to your grave."


    "BUT THAT''S EXACTLY WHAT YOU''RE TRYING TO DO!"


    He gave an overly exaggerated gasp. "Am I?"


    This is crazy. "I am absolutely not going to jump off. This is a tower, you hear me? A TOWER! I can''t even see how deep down it goes."


    "But you have to."


    "Reynard, there''s no way."


    "There is."


    "Are you telling me to die?"


    He pretended to be hurt. "I would never."


    We''re both gonna die.


    Well, I had a pretty questionable first life and a half-okay second one. But was I prepared to...fall?


    "Trust me. Now on the count of three. One..."


    "Reynard."


    "...Two..."


    "Reynard, stop."


    "Three!"


    Crap.


    [End of Preview]

 Chapter 2 - An Ephemeral Existence

    [Chapter 1]


    ''In one word, how would you sum up your life?'' someone asked me once.


    The answer: Bizarre.


    [6/08/20XX]


    I heard muffled voices.


    Oh, it must be Jieum talking to the nurse.....Or was it?


    I was in 4th period, if I remember correctly, when I suddenly had a strong headache take over. It hurt so much that the student beside me (I don''t remember her name, I think it was Miyoung or something) noticed the visible sweat on my forehead.


    "You okay?" she had asked worriedly.


    I remember saying something against it. I wasn''t so sure now.


    My head felt as if it was splitting. The pain took over me and at one point I forgot to breath. I gasped and clutched the arm of the girl beside me. She didn''t seem to know how to react and wasn''t the kind to interrupt the class, but thankfully she did signal the other students to alert Jieum.


    At that moment, my best friend of 5 years, Jieum Choi came striding to my table from across the class, mid-lesson and inquired about my health gravely. The teacher didn''t notice this act of indiscipline as he was facing towards the blackboard.


    I was in too much pain to reply to her so I had just squeezed her wrist real tight. It seemed like she got the message.


    "Sir?" Jieum spoke out loud, to our teacher''s surprise. "Seonhee isn''t feeling too well. May I take her to the infirmary?"


    I guess he gave her the permission due to the noticeable urgency in her voice, because the next thing I knew, I was being dragged along the school corridor by my shoulder and was being asked all sorts of questions which I couldn''t hear at the moment due to a loud ringing in my ears..


    "Seon, what is it? Where does it hurt?" she asked urgently. "You need to tell me something. What will I tell the nurse?"


    I started massaging my temples due to the intense, unbearable pain, and it must have given Jieum an idea of what was wrong with me because the next second I was being laid down on the infirmary bed and was forcefully being made to swallow some sort of bitter medicine.


    "Now all you need is rest, kiddo and you''ll be alright again." I suppose it was the nurse who said that, but again, I wasn''t so certain because I was blacking out by now. And the last thing I remember seeing was Jieum pull up a chair next to my bed and seating herself right next to my face.


    ?


    Muffled voices.


    I stirred on my bed because my back felt really sore. It seemed that my moving caused someone a huge surprise because I heard a loud yelp following my movement. Again, more muffled voices and then some footsteps.


    "Is it true?" I could hear a bit more clearly now. "Is the princess finally awake?"


    That was a male voice.


    "Oh my goodness, oh lord, ohˇ­.finally." Someone was sobbing. A female. It definitely wasn''t Jieum. Jieum was too hardcore to cry.


    I noticed that my headache was completely gone now. My heavy eyelids finally fluttered open, and what I saw was a very odd, unfamiliar scene.


    "Your Highness, Your Highness!"


    There were people all around me, and not to mention each and everyone of them was oddly dressed. In fact, I was in a totally different environment. I vividly remember being at school. What had happened? Did some kids take me to the theater? Or was someone playing a prank on me? I''m sure Jieum wasn''t the kind of person to mess around but this? This was weird.


    "Is this some kind of joke?" I addressed no one in particular, wondering if they even spoke the same language as me. But to my surprise the words I spoke came out in a language I had never ever heard of before, but apparently, I understood it. Shocking discovery, indeed. If I wasn''t so confused I''d even start yelling at people, asking if I''ve been kidnapped. But if I really had been kidnapped, I wouldn''t be lying freely on a grand double bed with a duvet which was soft-as-hell and looked extremely expensive. Oh Lawd, I was even wearing a silk gown. Warcrime.


    "Your Highness, what is the matter?" a girl wearing an old-fashioned maid outfit with an apron and everything, emerged from the crowd and asked me cautiously, speaking the same language. "Are you feeling ill?"


    "Um...no? I feel alright. And also," I began, still confused, "do stop calling me ''Your Highness''."


    "Your Highness?" she spoke distressingly. "I beg your pardon?"


    All of this nonsense was going to bring back my headache. "Why do you keep calling me that? What am I, royalty or something?"


    Everyone around me exchanged puzzling glances. Finally, the maid girl turned to face me again and responded, "How else would I address the Crown princess of Wisteria?"


    I blinked several times, trying to register the girl''s words.


    No way. No freaking way.


    "Your Highness, are you sure that you''re alright?" the maid asked me again.


    "Yeah yea- I mean, yes, certainly." Holy crap. If this is what I think it was, I would totally flip.


    "Um... hey, you," I pointed to the maid who seemed to be the spokesperson of the weirdo crowd, "Bring me a mirror." Will they even listen to me?, I thought. But to my utter surprise, everyone in the room started hustling and bustling, in search of a mirror.


    "Your Highness! I''ve found one!" It was another girl, wearing the same maid costume as the other girl. I noticed that she looked exactly like my mathematics teacher at school, but younger. She brought me a hand held mirror with a fancy golden frame and handle, like those I''ve seen in antique store display windows. As if I cared.


    I grabbed the mirror and peered at my reflection in the pristine glass. What I caught sight of almost made me splutter.


    It was a completely unfamiliar face. Though it was unfamiliar, it was the most stunning face I''ve ever seen. I saw a girl about 17 years of age. This girl had long, silky and glowy lilac colored hair (I couldn''t tell if it was natural or dyed) and a face as that of an angel''s. Her eyelashes were on fleek and under those were jeweled eyes that resembled emeralds. I touched my face with a nicely manicured, thin hand and discovered that my skin felt as soft as a newborn baby''s butt and in the mirror, it seemed as fair as the winter snow.


    "Haha," I laugh-cried silently. "Hahaha." I have been isekai''d. "Ahahaha." Crap. What about me back in my world? What happens to me? "HAHAHAHA." What about Jieum?


    I stopped laughing. Everyone was looking at me like I had gone crazy. "Ahem. Forgive me," I spoke as modestly as I thought possible. So much for keeping my image. I wouldn''t dare wonder what these people would do to me if they come to discover that I''m not their princess at all. Hell, I wonder if I could even keep up with this charade long enough.


    I needed some time to think. In order to do that, I needed all of these people to leave me alone. Around me were at least 15 people, all of them seemed to be a part of the palace staff. I saw maids, guards, nurses and even some cooks. If I was a real, evil princess, I''d have them all executed for disturbing my peace. But since I don''t want to cause any problems and have no idea of the current circumstances of this world, I''ll bear with it.


    "Your Highness, should I alert the Emperor?" said a Knight at the back of the room amidst all the chatter. "He''d be really pleased to know that you''ve woken up."


    I''d rather not risk that right now. The Emperor must be this princess''s father and he would definitely know the behavior of the princess very well. He''d know something''s wrong with his daughter at first glance. Nah...too much of a risk. I''d need to know about the princess''s behavior before I could proceed any further.


    Ah, curse it.


    "You!" I beckoned to an older guy who looked like he could very much be the butler. "Alert the palace.. The princess has awoken."

 Chapter 3 - The Incipient Stage

    A little bit about me.


    Jieum and I weren''t always good friends. 5 years ago, when I moved to Incheon with none but my siblings, I found it especially tough to conflate with the city people. All my life I had lived in a tiny apartment in Daegu with my family of 6 which included my mother, my 3 elder sisters and one little brother called Juwon. As a kid with a fiery personality, I was usually never on good terms with my family, except for my little brother who was my sole reason to keep on living.


    Often on gloomy days, when things weren''t so well in the apartment and everyone was yelling at each other due to constant stress because of unpaid bills piling up, I''d bolt from the apartment with my little brother in tow to avoid getting bashed at. My mother didn''t really care all that much for her kids as she was usually busy worrying about her continuously wrinkling face and bulging figure. "It''s all because of you kids!" she''d say. "I wish I never had the lot of you. I used to look so lovely before I ever met your father. And to believe he did a runner on us, that bastard!"


    None of us ever went to school. Why? Because we couldn''t afford it. Juwon and I studied together at home from books my elder sisters begged off of their fellow friends who were throwing them away. Juwon didn''t care, though. He was a quiet and timid boy from birth and didn''t pay much attention to the battered up books I tried to teach him from. Sometimes I even wondered if he was dyslexic, though I never looked into it much further.


    But then one day, all of our lives were turned upside down when my eldest sister who used to work in a restaurant won the lottery. It was much more of a big deal than we all had expected it to be. It was enough for us to move to a nice house somewhere pleasant and for me and Juwon to go to school for at least one term, though Mom demanded that all the money should be given to her. This ordeal followed with a huge fight where I again had to flee with Juwon to prevent getting caught up in it.


    The following night I eventually went back home hand-in-hand with Juwon who was busy sucking on a lollipop that I had got him with a coin that I found on the pavement in front of our apartment complex. As I approached the door to our apartment, I heard yelling and wailing. I cautiously turned the door handle, gripping Juwon''s hand tighter and what I saw in front of me was a sight I''d never forget.


    "S-sisters...what happened here?"


    Mom was lying, back first on the floor with her eyelids shut tight and face a chalky white. Without even confirming it, I knew she was dead. The atmosphere of the room confirmed my ruling. "How did this happen?"


    "She had a heart attack," said my eldest sister who seemed to be the only one not affected by this situation. The other two were in tears. "And good riddance."


    I didn''t cry, not even at her funeral. Nor did Juwon as he was too young to understand what happened.


    After that day, my siblings and I moved to Incheon using the lottery money in order to live a better life. We got a nice apartment and Juwon and I were enrolled into a nearby school. I felt like my life was finally on par with everyone else''s.


    It was in this school that I met Jieum. At first she was really cautious of me and didn''t stop other girls when they made fun of me being an orphan. But gradually, we became fond of each other due to our shared interests in sports and our similar personalities, and we''ve been like glue ever since.


    .....


    Now back to the present.


    ?


    "Out! Everybody leave," an old lady who stood right in front of the foot of my grand bed, called out. "Her Highness needs her rest." Soon, she had managed to usher out every single person from the room and closed the large. freakin'' door. "Now," she started. "I will attend to your needs. Is there anything you would like for me to get you?"


    This lady, who looked like she was in her late fifties and was wore an outfit and carried the authority that relayed to me that she might be the head maid. And she was asking me if I needed something. Yes. I needed to go back to my world, but I doubted that she''d know how. "Could you get me a glass of water and something to eat?" I was starving.


    The lady nodded and curtseyed, and with that, she disappeared out the door. Finally, I had some time to assemble my thoughts and figure out some sort of plan to get through this.


    Now, all the isekai manhwas that I had read in the course of my first limited lifetime implied that a girl from the modern world gets thrown into the world of a novel that she''s just recently finished. The problem with that was that I''m not really into novels, and there are certainly none that I''ve recently read, except for Moby Dick that we read in English class last term and had to do a report on it.


    Think, Seonhee, think! Was there any novel that I ever saw and thought, "Hey! I wish I lived in that world." Not really. None that came to mindˇ­


    ˇ­..


    Hold up. I remembered something. Oh shit, no.


    There was a novel Jieum always talked about. She raved on and on about it everyday for a short period of time. If my memory serves right, then the novel was called "The Blessing of Wisteria".


    I never really paid that much attention to Jieum when she was in her babbling-mode but I do remember some specific significant details from it. The main female lead was called something like Cindy or Canthia or something and the only thing I remember about her was that she dies at the end. Yeah. She dies.


    Also, I remember her saying how sad she was that the princess is killed even though she benefited all her people. And I responded by saying, "If I was her, I would''ve never benefitted all those greedy fools if I was to be killed at the end."


    And look where it got me.


    Okay so. I didn''t know how much into the novel I was at the moment and how long it would be before my scheduled death was due. If only Jieum was here, she''d know.


    But she wasn''t here. So I needed to think up something myself. I glanced all around the room I was currently in to get some sort of inspiration or a useful weapon for future self-defense.


    The Crown Princess''s square shaped room was quite large. Very large. Just a tad bit smaller than our school auditorium. Against one wall, in the very middle was the bed I was currently sitting on. Besides the bed were two nightstands apparently made with carved gold, similar to the bed. Underneath that, a plush royal purple rug covered the entire floor.


    On the wall directly in front of the bed, was a large mural. A mural of a fairy and the moon. Though it was only a painting, it looked incredibly real. Compliments to the painter. I quickly hopped off of the large queen-sized bed and skittered along the carpet floor to the large balcony on the wall adjacent to the right of the wall with the bed.


    I threw open the large floor-to ceiling glass doors and stepped out on the stone pavement. The wind instantly hit my face and several lilac strands of hair hit my face. "Ugh, ew," I sputtered as I spit the hair out of my mouth. To my surprise the hair tasted very faintly of strawberries. I wonder what shampoo this princess uses.


    "Seonhee, focus!" My brain yelled at me. I quickly re-gathered my thoughts. I didn''t have any time to waste. I set my eyes upon what was beyond the balcony. Upon a close inspection of the view that stood before me, I uncovered several things.


    1. Yes, I was totally isekai''d.


    2. The general architectural design of the Empire was very pleasing to the eye.


    3. I was f****ed.


    I was totally lost. After realizing that, I started panicking. What if I never get back to my world? What''s going to happen to me now? I had no ally in this place. I had no knowledge regarding the customs and traditions of this world. What if everyone in this palace notices that I''m not the princess and then they instantly decide to execute me? Then what???


    Pacing on the balcony wasn''t gonna help. I needed to formulate a solid plan.


    Click. The door opened.


    "Your Highness? What''re you doing outside? Come back in, you just woke up." It was the old, maid-lady again. "You''ll get sick once anew."


    I didn''t want to cause any problems on my first day in this place. Gotta be cautious.


    "I''ll be right over," I answered meekly as I was still getting used to my new language. I closed the glass doors behind me as I stepped back into the purple carpet and walked on over to what the Maid had for me.


    "Hey..." I started as I glanced at the tray of food that the Maid placed gently on my bed. "What am I supposed to call you, again?"


    The maid looked at me as if I was talking about something absolutely queer. At that moment I knew, I messed up. I had to try and not give away my real identity at all costs. Trying to provide an explanation to support my statement, I blurted out, "It''s because I was sick for a bit so my memory is still a bit, uh...fuzzy."


    The maid still looked quite suspicious. "Martha," she sighed eventually. "You may call me Martha."


    Alright so this Martha lady was very frightening and I do not feel bad to admit that I was indeed scared of her. She looked like a modern day school principal, if you get my meaning. Her face was creased with wrinkles but she still seemed as efficient and sharp as a gladiator in killing. Her thin, nimble hands were quick and so were her legs. She wore a uniform which included a black blouse, an apron-cum-long skirt and a frilly white head wrap thingy which went around her tied up brown hair. She was the definition of a strict, Victorian picture book maid.


    Though I wasn''t so sure about her personality.


    "Martha."


    "At your assistance, My Lady," Martha answered almost instantly.


    "Er...no, I was just testing your name." I blushed. Seonhee you fool, just stuff your face.


    Martha had generously piled up the tray with random assortments of food. I picked up what appeared to be a raspberry tart and started nibbling on it. Martha who was now taking out something out of a closet that was located on the wall to the right side of the bed, a few feet besides the grand bedroom door, looked up when she heard a moan escape my lips. I tried to hide my tomato red face behind my hair. Yes, the tart was that good. Martha just went back to doing whatever she was in the closet but as soon as she did so, I accidentally spilled a glob of raspberry cream on the Princess''s pink, silk nightdress.


    I gasped and Martha''s face went back to looking at me suspiciously. "Martha, I''m sorry I-"


    Martha tutted. "Your Highness, you needn''t apologize for such a trivial thing," she sighed and came over to me so she could wipe off the stain with a napkin she produced from the pocket stitched on her apron. "And to a mere maid, nonetheless. I hope you haven''t forgotten your status as the blessed crown princess."


    It was incredibly awkward, staying still as Martha cleaned me up as if I was a kindergartener. On a closer glance, she didn''t seem as strict as I thought her to be. Her expression was soft and her hands touched tender as she wiped me off. "Even your habits can be compared to Madame Irabella," she muttered under her breath. I wonder who that was?


    She stood back and inspected me. "Alright, that''s nicely done," she gave a tight-lipped smile. "After eating, I''d advise you to accompany me to the water closet so we can get you washed up and clean. After all, you''ve been bedridden for the past 4 days."


    Oh, so that''s why everyone was fretting about my state before. The Crown Princess being bedridden for 4 days must have kept the whole empire on its toes. Come to think of it, how did I even get here? I had a strange headache at school, and then I was taken to the infirmary by Jieum and then I ingested some sort of sickly, bitter medicine. Or was it medicine?


    I was in deep thought when Martha interrupted me again. "We don''t know if you''re completely cured yet, so I''ll go call the royal physician. Just in case.." And with that I was once alone left alone in this bedroom.

 Chapter 4 - An Unfortunate Encounter

    Yup, I totally suck at sneaking out.


    "Well, well, well, look who''s finally decided to get up from bed," chuckled a nasal female voice.


    I whisked my head around to discover an absolutely stunning noirette accompanied by a royal guard standing well away from me.


    "Kristopher, could you give us a minute alone?" the woman asked the guard while her exotic red eyes were still transfixed on me. The guard bowed once and went off in the opposite direction from where they had come from.


    Hesitant to conversate in case I mess up, I fumbled with my hands while the woman studied me. "Are you just going to stay quiet? I took my time to come and check up on you since I heard that you recovered and yet you don''t even greet me?" She sighed infuriatingly.


    This woman who seemed to me the exact image of an angel before, didn''t look so anymore. Looking at her suddenly made me remember my mother. Remembering those memories vexed me still.


    I didn''t know how to react so I muttered a greeting. "What''s that? Speak up," she snapped. "I haven''t any time for this."


    "I asked if you''re doing alright," I faltered.


    "Mind your tongue with me, child!" She hissed. From the corner of my eye, I saw a guard doing his rounds and he came close enough that he could hear our rather derogatory conversation. The woman noticed as well and suddenly, her whole tone of speaking changed. "Why yes, Your Highness, I''m doing perfectly fine, though I should be more worried about your health than you should be of mine," she empathized through her teeth with an obvious fake smile on her pretty face. When the guard had walked past us and off into the distance, her face went back to a grim and horrendous expression.


    "Did you have fun?" She smiled a vicious smile of a snake.


    "Pardon?" I asked.


    "Don''t pretend to feign ignorance now, you scheming brat," she hissed. "I know all about your dirty ploys."


    Okay, hol'' up. I was seriously so confused. A random lady walked up to the Crown Princess and started insulting her. I don''t know how the original princess would''ve reacted hence the reason I stayed silent but this was crossing the line. But then again, I''m the princess. What''s the worst she could do, slap me? I''m pretty much used to those by now.


    "I have no idea what you''re talking about," I denied. Now I didn''t feel as small as I had before. In a world without Juwon and Jieum, I had no reason to keep on living, so bring it on.


    The woman snorted. "Pretending to be sick for four days so that you could attract the Emperor''s attention away from me, is what I''m talking about," she spitted. "Have you any idea how furious I was when I heard the royal physician announce that you were ill? How could you even wrap the palace staff around your tiny fingers? Haven''t you any shame?"


    This lady is delusional, I thought. How could she keep on attacking the princess with such nonsensical abuse? For some reason, anger spread through me and bubbled over as I tried to maintain my expression and composure. "Who are you to throw such blames at me?"


    The woman''s lips twitched. Her entire face twisted into a snake''s. I thought for a second that I ever saw her fags, dying to pierce through me. "You bitch," she seethed. "I am the cynosure of His Majesty, his most treasured mistress, Elora Obsilia. I am most definitely his future empress and you are not to tell me otherwise!"


    "Wh-" I started but she cut in again.


    "I really hope you could live long enough to see me take the throne, though I highly doubt it," she sneered.


    I was very much aware that I would have to die soon, but prized mistress or not, this woman was seriously rubbing it in. "Why would I not live long enough?" I asked her so I could get some information out of her as to why and how was I to be killed


    "Oops," she laughed. "Just forget I ever said something like that."


    What was this lady''s deal? I was seriously considering kicking her shin right about now and making a run for it.


    "You know...I could have you punished for such insolence," I fumed. "Father won''t stand this." I was totally uncertain about that.


    "Oh and how are you so sure, little miss princess?" she said, full of pride and mockery. "Do you really think the Emperor will believe a little kid like you over someone like me?" She cackled. "I''d like to see you try!"


    The painful thing was that it was the truth. A painful truth. Even though I didn''t own this body, such verbal abuse made me remember my past and triggered memories that I''d rather keep locked away at the back of my head. In short, it hurt.


    Cackling, Elora Obsilia walked away after giving me one last menacing glare that relayed ''Idiot'' to me. Still fuming, I went back into my bedroom, planning on how to get back at her.


    ?


    "Your Highness, you seem pale," Martha said as she soaped my hair. I finally got a chance to relax in a large marble bathtub in a bathroom that seemed just as grand. I was only starting to loosen up when Martha decided to ask me about the conversation I had with ''Madame Elora''.


    "I was standing right by your door waiting for you to finish talking to the Madame but you didn''t seem to notice me. I don''t mean to pry but did she say something to anger you?" Martha''s soothing voice was making me feel drowsy.


    "No, it''s fine," I slurred. Martha didn''t scrutinize any further as if getting the hint that I didn''t want to talk about it.


    It felt as if I spent hours in the bathtub but I soon found myself being taken back to the bedroom and letting the royal physician- who was a nice old guy- poke me all over. He then declared that I had definitely recovered 100% from whatever had gotten me sick before.


    After that, the maids fitted me into a large, poofy gown. The maid from whose name was apparently Hetty and another maid called Marilynne were also present in my bedroom and helped Martha put me in my dress.


    I glanced at myself in the gold-rimmed full length mirror that stood before me as Hetty tightened a white laced corset around my already small waist.


    "Hetty, lightly please," I winced silently because she had just pulled the ribbon too tight. Though it hurt, I didn''t know what others would say if I decided to forgo these kinds of garments, so I just let them do it.


    "Forgive me, Your Highness," Hetty said in a quiet voice.


    "May I?" Marilynne asked as she grabbed the hair brush off of a dressing table besides the mirror. I nodded to her and let her tame my now lilac locks. I looked in the mirror once again, and saw the same 17 year old girl I had seen in the mirror before. Lilac, shining hair fell down my shoulders but under Marilynne''s shadow they seemed a gorgeous purple. Many strands covered my face and dropped over my eyelids, under which were exhausted green eyes.


    Jieum Choi what have you done?


    Due to my sighing, all three of the maids perked up but upon receiving no further orders from me, went back to busying themselves with grooming me. Martha had informed me a little beforehand that the Emperor had summoned me for some afternoon tea in the palace garden. What a nice man. What a considerate father to have his daughter come to him when she had just recovered from sickness. Seriously, we needed more agreeable, caring men like him in our world. As if.


    I never had a father myself, so it was hard for me to imagine this Emperor''s personality based off of only what I had heard. Still, I crossed my fingers and hoped for the best.


    "Alright, Your Highness, now that''s done," Martha said. "Hetty, Marilynne, go grab a royal guard to accompany her Highness to the gardens. Go on, quick, girls!" Hetty and Marilynne curtseyed and left obediently. Martha examined me up and down and smiled. "Nobody would be able to tell that you were ever sick. You look absolutely radiant, Your Highness!"


    I didn''t. I definitely didn''t. I was too tired and sleepy to have any tea at all but I didn''t say so out loud as the maids had worked really hard to make me look presentable. To match the gown, Martha had pinned a rose pin on my hair that perfectly complemented the tiny red ruby heels on my petite feet.. I thanked Martha and went on my way as Hetty brought to the door with her a royal guard.

 Chapter 5 - Meeting With The Emperor

    "My darling! How have you been?" said the fat, old man. "Lovely day, isn''t it? Have a seat."


    I seated myself on the seat across from him in front of the lovely circular table. A maid came and poured me some tea and then retired into the background.


    "You gave me quite the fright with that illness of yours," he laughed. "But it certainly is better to see you up and well."


    I smiled sweetly, because I didn''t want to give off the impression that I was either too confident or too demure due to the fact that I knew nothing of the princess''s actual personality. "Of course, Father."


    The tea was too bitter for my taste, so I chose to drink in little sips to avoid any suspicion.


    "So," the Emperor began, "I''d like to introduce you to someone new." He gestured to a line of guards behind him and amongst them, a guard wearing a slightly different uniform from the rest came forward and bowed to us. "He is Simon Gradral. I appointed him as my personal guard and commander to one of the most high-ranking squadrons of knights three days back, but of course you wouldn''t know since you were sick. You may address him as ''Sir'' Gradral. He is also to accompany you if you are in need to get out of the palace, understood?"


    Though this did curb my freedom I still nodded like the nice daughter I was playing.


    The Guard withdrew after bowing once more and the Emperor went back to chatting with me over tea. "When do you plan to return to your classes, Cynthia?"


    Oh, so it wasn''t Cindy or Canthia. Cynthia must be the princess''s name. "Whenever you please, Father." I didn''t know if this was a smart move, but I still went along with this response.


    "Try to get back to them as soon as possible so you could prepare for the ceremony," he said while chewing on a pastry. "How shameful that the preparations were hindered due to your illness. Do try to resume the arrangements promptly."


    "What ceremony, Father?" I inquired, genuinely curious.


    He seemed stricken by my words. "Why, your ''Coming of Age'' ceremony, of course. Don''t tell me all those days of suffering from ailment made you forget such an important event?"


    I laughed pleasantly, or at least I hoped that it was pleasant. It''s been a while and I''ve been out of practice lately. "Forgive me, Father, it was just momentary forgetfulness," I reassured. "I would never deliberately overlook such a significant event."


    The Emperor scratched his beard in deep thought. "On second thoughts, I''ll take care of the major preparations. You need more rest so you are healthy and fit on the big day. I don''t want you to relapse into the sickness and faint again in front of all those people."


    "As you please, Father."


    Maybe, I thought, maybe the Emperor wasn''t that bad of a guy as I thought he would be.


    "I heard Elora came to visit you," he beckoned a maid to refill his cup. "How''d it go?"


    This was the one topic I was hoping to avoid. In truth, Elora had been an absolutely despicable woman, an absolute spectacle to behold, but as she was the Emperor''s ''prized'' mistress, it would be better not to mention it.


    "Oh, she was most comforting..." I tried to put up the act, lying through my teeth. "...wonderful, even."


    The Emperor looked pleased and proceeded to grab a chocolate ¨¦clair from the tray set in front of us. I too, tempted by the oozing chocolate, grabbed one daintily and set it on my plate. "Father," I said, careful not to spill anything on this even ridiculously extravagant dress, "I didn''t see Mother around. Where is she?" I instantly regretted my words.


    The Emperor spluttered mid-sip and spilled the hot cup of tea on his expensive looking, but strange garments. Some maids rushed to help him while others stood still, muttering to each other furtively. Sir Gradral came forward, "Your Majesty, are you all right?"


    The Emperor gestured everyone to leave and then sat straighter while he fixed his gaze on me. "My daughter," he said. "Did we or did we not agree to never discuss this subject again?"


    Ahaha...I''d gone and done the one thing I had tried to avoid all day long. Draw unnecessary attention. "Yes, forgive me, Father," I mumbled. "I''ll never mention it again."


    But the Emperor''s reaction did make me curious as to what happened to this princess''s Mother. One thing I was sure of was that she was definitely dead because of the fact that the Emperor was keeping a mistress close to him and because of what Elora said.


    "You," the Emperor pointed to a servant, "Bring me fresh clothes. Gradral," he signaled to Sir Gradral, "you follow me." The Emperor stormed off and the rest of the guards and servants bowed to me and then scurried off themselves. Just like that, I was left alone in the palace garden with only Martha to attend to me.


    ?


    By the time I was back in the bedroom, I was utterly exhausted. "Martha could you get me another comfortable dress? My back''s killing me."


    Surprised but not displeased, Martha curtseyed and left to get me something roomy. I plopped down on the large plush mattress and sighed. My first day here had been a disaster. I hoped no one was suspicious of my behavior in any way. But I wouldn''t be shocked if someone figured it out.


    Soon after worrying about it, before I even knew it, I was fast asleep.


    ?


    A baby wailed.


    "N-no, please...please don''t hurt us..." a woman begged as she clutched a bundle of clothes to her chest. "Don''t hurt my children, p-please."


    "Barion, what is the meaning of this?" said a man that looked exactly identical to the Emperor. "Put the sword down and let''s talk."


    It was raining and a sudden loud thunder made the bundle in the woman''s arm wail louder. There was also a kid about 5 years old clenching on to his mother''s arm, seeming just as frightened. "U-uncle..." he cried as tears dribbled down his face.


    Barion, whose face was shadowed by darkness, and the who seemed to be the one feared, let out a large roar. "Years, Haleth, years I waited for this opportunity," he growled. "I was about to be the Emperor too, when you swooped in and ruined everything." Barion gripped the sword tighter while Haleth guarded his family, standing over them while they crouched in fear. "And to make things worse, you got blessed with a girl, Haleth. It should''ve been me! It should''ve been me who fulfilled the prophecy, not you..." he cried angrily. "Hand over the girl peacefully, Haleth, and I''ll at least spare your son''s life," he demanded while raising the sword and taking his stance.


    "GUARDS!" yelled Haleth. "Damn it, where are they?"


    "Dead," chuckled Barion. "Well, as far as I''m aware."


    Without any notice, he swung the sword. The woman screamed which made the baby howl further and the boy covered his face instinctively. Haleth pulled himself upon his family in order to protect them and his back got severely slashed. "ARGH!"


    He slumped down, as quiet as the dead. The woman screamed and fumbled with the bundle in her arms, clutching it tighter and away from the sword''s reach. "Barion, I beg you!" she cried. "Spare my children, please!"


    Barion roared with laughter. He didn''t want to kill the kids either, as they could be of good use later on, but he''d certainly do so if he had no choice. "I''ll consider it if you hand over the girl."


    Reluctantly, the woman handed him the bundle but was not expecting to be slashed by the sword''s blade as soon as the exchange was made. Her dying screeches finally willed the young boy to move and he ran for his life, away from the corpses of his parents, and away from his baby sister.


    "You little-" Barion was not expecting this. He set the baby down and ran after the kid, sword raised in the air.


    "You can''t get away from me, child!" he shouted in the dark as he chased the boy through the palace corridor, the baby''s cries echoing in the background, "You can never escape!"


    Barion, who was also a fat man, breathed heavily as he pursued the boy.. "Now I''ve got you," he struck his sword into the darkness.

 Chapter 6 - "Let Me In!"

    Huff...huff...huffˇ­


    I sat up, my body drenched in sweat.


    Anxiously, I looked around for Juwon or anybody I knew, but dismayed, I realized that they weren''t here. I had just had a terrible dream.


    The little boy I saw reminded me of Juwon and it made me wonder how he would be doing back in my world. Would he look for me when he realizes that I''m not home? Would he be sad to know that I was gone? There was also a slight chance that my previous body was living my life as usual and in that case, would Juwon realize that something''s different?


    I switched my attention to the dream I had. It was very strange. First of all, I didn''t recognize anybody in it, except for the Emperor who looked very much the same. But the woman and the boy were definitely unfamiliar. I grasped that the woman must be the Empress. Was she really the princess''s mother? And if so and this is really how she died, then what about the Emperor? According to the dream, shouldn''t he also be dead? What prophecy was the man with the concealed face talking about? Why was he so eager to take the princess? Also, that boy...was he perhaps Cynthia''s brother? If that was the case, where was he now, not dead, was he?


    I was pondering over a million questions when I suddenly heard a clink. Instantly, my eyes shifted to the huge glass doors and froze when they caught sight of a dark figure perched up on the balcony.


    My first thought was that it must be an assassin. Why else would someone enter the Princess''s room furtively from the balcony and not come through the front door like a civil human? I opened my mouth to call the guard outside my door but the figure put up his hands as if to surrender and said "Shh, your Majesty. I come in peace."


    No way was I falling for this. Immediately, I turned to look for some sort of weapon, but the only thing I found was an umbrella (and a very strange one at that).


    "Stay where you are. If you try to hurt me, I''ll call the guards, I swear. No, better is that I''ll kill you myself," I warned quietly. "What business do you have here?" I lit a candle so I could see his face better.


    It was a man about 20 years of age. If he lived in my world, he''d definitely be a model. His tan skin looked absolutely majestic paired with the green-blue eyes he possessed. I couldn''t see his hair because he was wearing a cloak. "My princess," he said through the glass door, his voice low and husky. "I know it would lead to big trouble if anyone noticed both of us in your bedroom, but I''m afraid I''ll be caught by a guard if I stay out here."


    I gripped the umbrella''s handle tighter and prepared my stance. "So...what do you want me to do? Let you in?" I narrowed my eyes. "I don''t think so."


    "Princess..." The man scratched his hair helplessly. "I won''t be able to help you if you don''t let me in."


    I narrowed my eyes further, scrutinizing the moonlit figure that stood not to far, barred from me by a glittering panel of glass. "Oh yeah? Help me how?"


    Silence. I had expected him to answer immediately, seeing as he was so eager to get in to ''help'' me, but surprisingly, it appeared that he was hesitating.


    "I..." I could see the wheels in his head turn as he thought over his words. "I bear important information."


    I waited for him to carry on.


    "But for me to tell you all about it, you''ll have to let me in. Don''t worry," he said. ''''I''ll be sure to stay at a safe distance from you. Look, you can even check my pockets," he said, flustered as he emptied out his pockets before me. "I am unarmed."


    "How can I trust you?"


    He thought for a while. "It''s true, you can''t. But if you think even for a second that I''m making a move on you, you can always call that guard by your door."


    "How''d you know about the guard?" I narrowed my eyes again. "You''re very suspicious. Tell me, what kind of information do you carry?"


    He sighed with frustration, and cried out, raising his voice in the spur of the moment. "Just let me in! I already made it clear that I''m not here to hurt you, so I don''t get what''s the problem! Goddammit..."


    Some movement could be heard outside my door. "Your Highness! Is everything alright? I hear noises in there. Are you perhaps in need of assistance?" The guard suddenly called out from outside my door, startling me and the man both. The man suddenly made himself disappear from sight by flattening himself behind the wall that connected the glass doors to my room.


    I knew how dangerous it would be for me as well as the man if the guard discovered him on my balcony. "No, it''s alright," I cried out. "I was just-erm...brushing my hair... No need to worry."


    The guard mumbled a faint reply and apparently went back to his post.


    "Princess..." The man in the cloak said rather sadly. "I should perhaps leave now..."


    "No! Wait," I stopped him. Crap. My curiosity was getting the better of me. "I''m going to let you in, okay? Though stay well far away from me."


    Cautiously, I unlocked the balcony door and hopped quickly over to the other side of the bed, near the door so that I could make a clean exit in case of any complication. "Now, what is it that you were so eager to tell me that you had to risk your life to sneak in here?"


    The man took off his cloak to reveal a head of majestic black hair. He held up his hands in the air where I could see them properly. I noticed that they were sweaty.


    "Before you start, tell me your name," I said as I lowered the umbrella a little bit.


    "I go by Reynard, Your Highness."


    "Alright. Now Reynard, what is it that you have come to tell me?"


    Before he spoke, Reynard looked around my bedroom in awe, briefly stopping his eyes to carefully observe every single piece of furniture and decoration. "Princess, are you perhaps aware of the prophecy?"


    Nope, I wasn''t. "What prophecy?"


    "It''s a prophecy that''s been passed down among the members of the Royal family since 500 years. Pretty much every sane adult in Wisteria is aware of it...but it''s a strongly enforced law among the Wisterians that the Princess herself must never come to know of it." He chuckled then. "I hope that you''re aware that I''m literally risking my life to inform you of this long kept secret from you."


    I still didn''t completely trust the guy. How bad did this prophecy have to be that it was a freaking law to keep it hidden from me. "Tell me."


    Reynard bit his lips as he eyed the purple carpet down below."Well...it may come as a horrible shock to you, but you aren''t what we call a ''normal'' human being. You were born to serve a purpose nobody else could."


    I had no idea where this was going. "Pardon?"


    "You see...the day you will turn 17- which is of course, coming very soon- you will discover all sorts of changes in your body. You''ll start to feel a tingling sensation in yo-"


    "Hold it!" I hissed as I suddenly raised the umbrella in alarm. "Are you here to give me a lesson about puberty? I''m sorry but you should know your place."


    "No, Princess! I-" he blushed a deep red, "It''s not that."


    My untrusting glare finally gave him the will to keep going. "On the 17th year of your birth, you''ll be gifted with certain divine powers."


    "Huh?" I still didn''t understand where this was going.


    "Divine powers like-"


    Thud, thud, thud.


    I whipped my face around as someone banged on my door loudly. "Princess? Are you alright? I heard another voice in there," the guard shouted. Jeez, he was going to attract every single person in the palace. "I''m entering, Your Highness."


    The door handle turned. "Wait! I''m changing!"


    "What?" the guard opened the door an inch.


    "Get out!" I yelled. "I''m changing, for goodness'' sake!"


    Why wasn''t there a godd*mn lock on this freaking door?


    I forcefully shut the door and looked around for Reynard. I was surprised when I saw that he was already perched up on the balcony''s railing.


    "Princess! Are you sure you''re alone?" the guard called. He was seriously getting on my nerves. Was this idiot ever gonna stop?


    "Yes, of course I am! Now stop disturbing me or I''ll have you punished," I warned. "Reynard," I whispered desperately, turning my head back once again, "when can I meet you again?"


    Reynard turned to face me and smirked as he pulled his cloak over his head, shadowing his face till only his lips were visible under the late moon''s light. "Soon." And with that he jumped off of the balcony.


    "HEY!" I shrieked as I swiftly ran over to the balcony and looked down, but was only met by darkness. Who was this guy? How did he manage to get all the way here from the palace walls without a single guard noticing him? The only logical excuse I could come up with was that he lived somewhere inside the palace walls. But I knew that was impossible because the only people who inhabited the palace were the Emperor, the princess, the mistresses, the palace staff who lived in their quarters and the knights back in their barracks.


    The door to my room flew open and a couple of guards flooded in my room. "Your Highness! Are you okay? We heard a male voice in here."


    I turned to them, slowly.


    "Well, I''m just fabulous."

 Chapter 7 - The Escape

    I had a hard time sleeping in the Princess''s bed that night.


    There was a good chance that the prophecy Reynard mentioned was the same as the one that was spoken briefly of in my dream. I was certain that the information Reynard would provide me would be connected to my yet-to-occur death and help me know how and why the Crown Princess was to be killed. And if possible, I could figure out how to escape it as well.


    ˇ­..


    "Now, Your Highness. You must twirl! Twirl like a graceful swan, not like an ugly duckling," the dance instructor sighed peevishly.


    How the hell did I end up here? The Emperor did tell me to resume my lessons as soon as possible but how would I have known that this would include dancing lessons!?


    "Okay, now lift one arm up and the other should hover before your waist," the instructor ordered.


    It wasn''t even 8 in the morning. I''d still be in bed if I was back in my world, but here I was, practicing how to execute a graceful spin.


    The dance instructor tutted at my clumsy moves and sighed loudly. "Your Highness, how could you get so bad at this in such a short period of time? Getting ill shouldn''t have taken away your dancing abilities, unless your legs were damaged in the process."


    Ah, this obnoxious, blunt man was begging to hear my vast vocabulary. "Now follow my lead! One, two, three! One, two, three," he chanted as he dragged me along with his dance. "Princess, don''t look so glum. Go with the flow..."


    Nope, I never signed up for this. I can''t do this. Even back then, I was never too good on my legs. "Sir Andre, I''m really tired," I groaned. "If possible, I''d like to take a break."


    "Oh, but Princess, we''ve only just started yet!" Sir Andre nagged unbelievably. "Surely, you''re not really weak on your legs after the sickness?"


    I wanted to say ''yes'' but if I did, I''d have to spend a lot of time with the physician again. "I can assure you that I''m not," I put him at ease. "But I believe some rest would help my condition."


    Defeated, Sir Andre gave in and seated down himself as he chugged a glass of water. I too, was provided with a glass of water by a servant standing by.


    "Thanks," I said as I took the glass. "What''s your name, by the way?"


    I didn''t remember seeing her in my room on the day I came here, nor did I ever notice her when I went to the garden. Honestly, it was weird because she had such extraordinary silver hair, it''d be hard not to notice her.


    She blushed after hearing the question and almost dropped the jug of water she was holding. "It''s Emery," she said, trying very hard not to appear flustered, "uh...Your Highness."


    I laughed at how cute she was, as I told her not to panic. She finally seemed to relax as her shoulder slumped down slightly and she laughed along with me. "Hey, can you help me with something?" I asked her as she set down the jug of water on a small table arranged against one wall of the dance studio.


    "Always, Your Highness."


    "Could you maybe sneak me out of here?" I whispered. Surprised by my request, Emery thought it over and whispered enthusiastically, "It''s not something I can''t do."


    We observed that there were, at the moment, four people in the room. Sir Andre, a guard by the door, Emery and me.


    "My good sir," Emery smiled innocently as she approached the guard. "Could you perhaps notify the Miss Martha per Her highness''s request, that she''d like to eat the cook''s special choux pastry after her lessons are over with?"


    "Certainly, miss." And right before my eyes, the guard disappeared from the room.


    I gave her a thumbs up. "Good work, Emery."


    Next, she went over to Sir Andre and engaged him in a conversation regarding the types of slippers suitable for ballet. Sir Andre was wiggling his hands about so comically that I almost didn''t want to leave, but I saw this as an opportunity to make my escape as he was very much distracted. I gave Emery a wink before I made a run for it.


    I liked her. I knew she''d be a fun one from the get go.


    Now, I wondered as I walked through the palace corridor freely, nodding at every guard that bowed to me. Where shall I go?


    I couldn''t possibly go to my bedroom, because that''s the first place the guards would check upon realizing that I had disappeared. I could go to the palace library, but all the books they had there were either about monarch history or about royal behavior and stuff. Instead I decided to go and check out the gardens.


    I was about to reach for the door when I heard someone cough behind me. I turned around, hoping that it wasn''t a guard who was here to take me back to my lessons. I was surprised to see Sir Gradral standing there.


    "Your Highness, what brings you here?"


    "Oh...just," I tried to appear as nonchalant as possible, "I was just about to take a walk in the gardens."


    He raised one eyebrow. "Unguarded?"


    I laughed softly, hoping that he''d just leave me alone. "Care to join me?"


    ?


    "So," I said, trying to strike a conversation because the awkwardness between us was killing me, "Sir Gradral, don''t mind me asking, but where are you from?"


    "From Eyress, Your Highness." I noticed that this guy had a superb poker face.


    "Ah, I see," I said, even though I had no idea where Eyress was. "How did you end up working for my father?"


    Sir Gradral didn''t answer for a long while. I peeked behind my shoulder to see if he was left far behind, but saw him walking in tow behind me. "Sir Gradral?"


    "I never enlisted for the guards on my own free will," he said. "It was all my son''s idea."


    "Your son?"


    Sir Gradral gave a smile whose emotion I was unable to detect. "Yes, Your Highness. My son."


    "How old is he?" I asked, observing the flowers that grew along the palace wall. Sir Gradral didn''t seem so old. He looked as if he was in his mid 30s or something, so I guessed that his son might be 10 or 11.


    "He just turned 21." Oof, I was way off.


    After a pause, so that I don''t seem too nosy by asking so many questions about his personal life, I asked, "How many kids do you have, Sir Gradral?"


    I noticed how his face lit up when I mentioned his children, though it was a very slight change. "I have two children, my son and a daughter."


    "How lovely," I said, really meaning it.


    The rest of the morning went really well. Sir Gradral and I strolled in the garden for another half an hour, discussing whether having siblings was good or not, when Martha came running to me and started nagging me about missing my lessons. "Sir Andre has been so stressed. He said he didn''t know how you slipped away in front of his sharp sight."


    "My, such a sharp sight he has," I joked as Martha dragged me to my room.


    "Really, Your Highness. You must know better yourself," Martha said. "Take off your shoes outside your door. All the mud caked up on them will surely ruin the carpet." She sighed.


    "Martha, you know, I really don''t think I should take those dancing lessons," I complained. "Sir Andre is such a nuisance."


    "That he is," Martha mumbled. "But you do know that these classes are an essential part of who you are. The ceremony in two weeks and you''ll have to dance in front of a large crowd of nobles. You wouldn''t want to embarrass yourself, would you? It''s going to be one of the largest events in all time to come. Several royal families from foreign kingdoms will also be present and so will the Emperor himself."


    I had no idea this ''Ceremony'' was such a big deal to everyone. I''ve been taking this matter too lightly. Now that I know that I had to perform in front of a large crowd, my anxiety started to take over. "Martha," I whined, "is there any way to forgo the ceremony?"


    "Definitely not!" she snapped sternly.


    I sat, pouting at all these arising complications. It wasn''t fair. Why did I even get transmigrated into another world? Why me? The novel wasn''t even mine to read, it was Jieum''s. It would''ve made so much sense if Jieum really did transmigrate here instead of me.


    If I really had to die, why didn''t God let me die in peace?

 Chapter 8 - Breakfast With The Family

    After another night of tossing and turning, I woke up to Martha parting the curtains of the balcony, letting in bright sunlight which shined straight into my eyes.


    "Martha, whatˇ­?"


    "Hurry it up, Your Highness," Martha urged. "His Majesty has requested a breakfast at the grand dining table."


    Well, this was sudden. "Is someone else going to be there?" I yawned, putting my feet in my slippers.


    "All the royal madams will be attending as well," Martha said. "Which dress would you like to wear, Your Highness?" she said, gesturing to the rack of dresses hanging in my closet.


    "Wait, but wasn''t Elora the only mistress?" I asked, confused.


    "Of course not?" Her response was more like a question than a statement. "You didn''t lose your memory because of the illness, yes?"


    "Hahaha, no," I laughed, lightheartedly. If someone found out about my real identity, I would be done for. I had been pretending for a solid two days now. It felt like an eternity, though. I had to deal with so much drama on my very first day here. First, I had to deal with the palace staff overreacting because of my recovery. Then, Martha. After that, I had to handle Elora''s insults which were totally uncalled for. Then the Emperor called me for some tea in the garden and stormed off afterwards. The very night, I had an absolute horrible nightmare and then Reynard came through my balcony. The dance lesson didn''t go exactly well eitherˇ­


    Ah, why did I have to attract so much drama?


    I pointed out an orange dress to Martha which hung at the very front of the closet, got dressed with Marilynne and Hetty''s assistance and went off to find the dining room, accompanied by a random guard.


    ?


    Okay, so from what Martha had told me, there were exactly six women who I needed to look out for and who would also be present at breakfast along with me and the Emperor. By names and personalities, they were:


    1. Elora Obsilia, the spoiled one.


    2. Yesenia Chamillet, the mature one.


    3. Christabel Virak, the talkative one.


    4. Odette Atraxil, the studious one.


    5. Lorelei Rovan, the artsy one.


    6. Enya Neredras, the quiet one.


    The guard stopped at a large door, so I did too. He let the other guard, who was guarding the door to the dining room, know that the Emperor had invited me and I was let in.


    Before me, a long rectangular dining table sat in the middle of the large, well-lit room which was covered in cream colored wallpaper. I took a few steps and almost slipped because of the red carpet that covered the entire floor.


    "Your Majesty, look who''s here."


    The Emperor sat at the very head of the table and was too immersed in a pile of documents along with his meal to have noticed me enter, but looked up when one of the six ladies that sat on either side of him spoke up. "Ah, my daughter," he said with a mouthful of food. "Take a seat."


    I didn''t know where to sit, but there seemed to be a seat right besides the Emperor which had been kept deliberately open. I sat myself down, right across from Elora.


    Great.


    A servant moved forward to pour me a cup of tea and served me a plate of food. "Thank you..." I said shyly.


    "So, princess," said the woman besides me. I whipped my head to my right and was almost taken back by the face that was only an inch away from me. "How are you?"


    This woman seemed to be in her mid 20s. I didn''t know what her name was, but judging by the fact that she engaged me in a conversation first, she could be Christabel, but definitely not Enya. Martha hadn''t specified on their hair colors of special features so I didn''t know how to identify these six women, but guessing them might work.


    She had cotton candy pink hair and absolutely beautiful blue eyes. So I don''t think it would be Yesenia. She could be Lorelei, but I wasn''t so sure. "I''m doing really well, thank you," I sipped some tea, hoping that she''d just focus on the food on her plate and not me, but then she spoke up again. "I really like your dress today, did you pick it or was it that maid of yours, Martha was it?"


    "I did." I tried to smile, but my nerves refused to let my muscles do so. Instead my lips formed a one sided smirk, which was definitely not my intention. "You look lovely as well." She did. She wore a gorgeous blue dress with satin ribbons on the bodice which really complemented her eye color.


    "I appreciate it, though I can''t definitely surpass your beauty," she sighed. "Oh, how I''m envious of your flawless skin. Do you see these bumps on my face," she held her cheeks up close for me to inspect, "these little guys have been troubling me a lot recently. But look at you! Your face is still as smooth as when you must''ve been a wee baby."


    For some reason, the Emperor started coughing which quickly made the pink haired woman shut up.


    "Christa, pass me the bread," another mistress who sat across from the pink haired girl, said. She, I noticed, had a strong ''Everybody, stfu'' aura around her. Christabel silently passed over the basket of bread, while munching on a baby carrot.


    Christabel scooted her seat over to me and mumbled, "Did you see the glare she gave me right now?"


    "Ahaha...erm, who...?"


    "Why, Yesenia''s of course! She''s always glaring at me, actually. But I have to stop talking when she tells me to," she sighed, biting another carrot. "She''s the eldest, after all, so she must know better. And you know how my tongue gets out of hand sometimes."


    Ah, so the woman who had asked Christabel for the bread was Yesenia. See? I was getting the hang of it. "Say, Christabel," I said, "how long have you been here for?" I know I should''ve called her ''Miss Christabel'' or something but my slip of tongue didn''t seem to bother her, so I didn''t say anything either.


    "Hmm," said Christabel thoughtfully. "Now that I think about it, I''ve been here for the shortest period." Christabel counted on her fingers as she recited, "Yesenia has definitely been here the longest, maybe 8 or 9 years. Odette came after her, so I''d say she''s been here for 7 years. Enya and Lorelei came here the same year right after Odette. Elora came here 3 years ago and me, 2."


    "But what about the Empress?" I whispered.


    "Oh, hush, Your Highness!" Christabel hissed, glancing at the Emperor. "You are very well aware that this is a prohibited topic within the palace walls. The Emperor disliked talking about his deceased wife."


    "How come?"


    "Hey, Christabel, dear?"


    Christabel and I, who had been furtively whispering to each other, both swiveled our heads around in Elora''s direction. "What are you two talking about? If it''s really that entertaining, why don''t you share it with the rest of us?"


    The Emperor perked up mid-meal as well. "Yes, my darling. Is there something you''d like to mention?"


    I noticed that Christabel had gone really pale. "No, Your Majesty" she muttered. "The princess and I were just discussing the upcoming ceremony. She was telling me how nervous she is about the first dance. There''ll be a lot of nobles watching, after all."


    The Emperor gave a hearty laugh. "Oh, no need to fret so, my child. It isn''t such a big of a deal as you make it out to be. Just remember to take care of your health."


    Christabel and I, both sighed huge sighs of relief. "Erm...Thank you for your concern, Father."


    "It''s in two weeks, no?" a woman down the table spoke up.


    "Yes, it is," Christabel chirped. "Hey, Princess! What dress are you going to wear for it? I bet it''s going to be really pretty! If I were you, I''d get it made from Fleur''s. She''s a miracle worker when it comes to dresses. I''d be willing to go with you if you want!"


    "Christa," Yesenia coughed. "The bread, please."


    "What''s with her and her godd*mn bread?"


    "Christa I''d like the bread too!" spoke the woman who had previously asked about the ceremony. "And pass the butter here as well."


    "Lorel, can''t you see I''m discussing the ceremony with Her Highness?"


    "Women, do calm down," the Emperor sighed.


    "But Your Majesty, why won''t Christabel just pass on the bread to me? It''s right in front of her."


    Yesenia put the bread from her plate in Lorelei''s. "Just take mine."


    Ah, this was such a new feeling to me, sitting with other people, having a nice meal. I never got a chance to have such an experience even after me and my sibling moved over to Incheon. Many people would assume that after moving, we''d all have pleasant meals as a family...but the hostile atmosphere didn''t dissolve even after our living conditions improved.


    My eldest two sisters became the bread-winners of the family, and were always out working. My other elder sister was often out partying with her friends. Me and Juwon were left at home alone most of the time. On the rare occasion that everyone was present at home, we''d just shut ourselves in our rooms and tried to keep out of each other''s way.


    "Cynthia," the Emperor interrupted my thoughts. "About the dress Christabel was talking about, why don''t you go to town with Gradral to get it made in the coming day or two? After that, everyone will just get too busy with the preparations, so you might not get the privilege to leave the palace. What do you say?"


    What did I say? It was a first for me so I was too hesitant to speak up immediately, but after thinking it over, I thought it might be fun.


    "Alright, Father."

 Chapter 9 - Emerys Proposal

    "Your Majesty," said Sir Gradral. "It''s a letter from Clatoise."


    The Emperor briskly wiped his palms with a napkin and grabbed the letter from his hands, peering at it. "What do those rascals want now?"


    All the women and I watched as the Emperor tore open the envelope, grunting as he read through the contents. "Damn it, Irvin," he muttered under his breath.


    "Is something the matter, Your Majesty?" Elora asked, concerned.


    The Emperor looked at his mistress''s distressed expression and smiled to ease her worry. "Rest assured, darling, it''s nothing to bother about." But we could all see how the Emperor''s eyebrows had furrowed as he had gone over the letter.


    I shifted in my seat as I whispered to Christabel, "Is my father on bad terms with this ''Irvin'' he speaks of?" My conclusion was that Irvin was a very important person to have riled up the Emperor like that.


    Christabel shrugged. "I''m not really sure. The Emperor never really talks about diplomatic relations with the rest of us. He usually keeps it to himself," she sighed. "Though if my memory serves right, I do believe that he once mentioned an argument with King Irvin of Clatoise."


    "What did they quarrel about?" I was indeed very curious.


    "Not sureˇ­ Probably about some trade agreement or something."


    I noticed that Christabel didn''t enjoy talking about state affairs, so I took the hint and stopped prodding at it. It seemed that the other mistresses were quite worried as well and had put their cutlery down. I, myself, didn''t find my own plate appetizing as well.


    "Then, Your Majesty, we''ll take our leave," Yesenia spoke amidst the tense silence. "I have good reason to believe that you may have some business to attend to, so we shouldn''t keep you waiting. Come on, girls," Yesenia gestured to the other mistresses to stand up. The guards who had been lining the walls of the dining room moved forward to gently pull back the chairs on which we were seated on.


    I felt as my chair scraped back from the table which provided me with a lot of space to get up. Everyone stood up and curtseyed to the Emperor who was busy discussing something with Sir Gradral and just waved for everyone to leave him alone. I followed the mistresses as they shuffled out of the dining room. The door shut behind us and for a moment, we all stood silently in the palace hall.


    "Well, that didn''t last long," Lorelei said. "What do you think the letter conveyed?"


    "I''m curious as well," a woman who wore a gold-rimmed monocle said. "His Majesty seemed quite perturbed."


    "Oh, Odette," Elora said in her high pitched, nasally voice. "Be a dear and shut up, will you? The Emperor said not to bother, so we all should take his advice and leave the matter alone. After all, he is capable enough to take care of it himself."


    "In this case, I''ll have to agree with Elora," Yesenia said. "It''s not our place to mind about such matters. We should be content enough by serving the Emperor."


    "Save your words, Yesenia," Christabel glared. "If you think we''re all happy enough by serving the Emperor every day for the rest of our lives, then I''d advise that you speak for yourself."


    "How dare you speak to me like that?" Yesenia turned red.


    "Hey, hey, hey," Lorelei broke up the hostile atmosphere. "Let''s all just be on our ways. Christa, you''re with me." She tried to laugh it off while pulling Christabel to the end of the hall, away from the others. I, too, had nothing to do except for attending another lesson which was due any minute now, so I followed Christabel and Lorelei as well.


    "Christa, what gives?" Lorelei asked, agitated. "What if Yesenia reports your words to the Emperor?"


    "She won''t."


    Lorelei looked at Christabel worriedly and muttered something under her breath. Then shifted her attention to me. "Your Highness, what is the matter? Did you perhaps forget something?"


    "Nothing, really." I played with the ruffles on my dress. "I was wondering if any one of you could keep me company? I have some paltry tasks today so maybe if you..."


    Lorelei and Christabel exchanged meaningful glances and Lorelei turned to me to say, "I apologize Princess, but there is something we''ve got to get done at the moment. Another time, maybe?"


    Christa gave me a sympathetic smile and waved me goodbye as she and Lorelei disappeared further into the palace.


    Great. I was left standing alone amidst the large palace hall. Now I had nothing to do but attend Sir Andre''s class. But I could also just go and hide somewhere till noon, maybe Martha won''t come to find me and perhaps I won''t have to attend the dreadful lesson.


    I ambled along the walls of the palace hall, stopping briefly to inspect the hung paintings and portraits on the wall. It was weird. I''ve been here for three days and not even once when I roamed the palace did I spot any pictures of the Empress. It made me wonder what really happened to her and did the Emperor possess no more affection for his dead wife? Is that why he kept so many mistresses around?


    It was all very strange.


    "Your Highness, what are you still doing here?"


    Oh, it was Sir Gradral again.


    "Don''t you have your lessons at this time of the day?"


    "Wait, how do you know?" I asked, shocked.


    He chuckled. "Miss Martha informed me. She said I should see over you after breakfast to make sure that you do indeed attend your lessons because you have a tendency to ''sneak out''."


    I gave him an awful stare.


    "Her words, not mine." He smiled ever so slightly. "Come on, Sir Andre must be worried sick."


    I pouted as I was reluctantly led away by Sir Gradral into the torture room. "Ah, one more thing," Sir Gradral said. "I''ve commanded the guards to keep a special eye on this door, in case you decide to ''sneak out'' again. Alright, see you later, Your Highness!" Even though Sir Gradral bowed very low, I could still tell that he was trying very hard to stifle a laugh. What a ruthless guy.


    ?


    "Like a swan, Princess! LIKE A SWAN, FOR GOODNESS'' SAKE!" Sir Andre cried as he demonstrated the dance while I tried to follow it. "Oh Lord, someone fetch me a glass of water. It feels as if I''m about to faint."


    I fell on the floor. Yep, dancing definitely wasn''t for me. "Sir Andre, believe me, I''m trying my best," I wheezed.


    "It isn''t good enough, Your Highness," he sighed dramatically. "You''ve got less than two weeks to improve yourself. All I can do is teach you, not make you do it. You have to put in much more effort if you don''t want to embarrass yourself on the big day. And there''s no way you can decline the dance too, as it''s Wisterian tradition to perform it."


    Two weeks. Now that I think about it, that isn''t a lot of time. It''s impossible for me to acquire acceptable skills in such an art in such a short period of time. What if I can''t do it? What if I really do demean myself in front of such high-class nobles. I felt tears gather in my eyes. I hid my face behind my hair, trying not to show my weak side to anyone else.


    "Sir Andre," Emery spoke up. "I think the princess deserves a break. She''s worked really hard today after all."


    I peeked at Sir Andre and noticed that he was about to tell her off for speaking up, but then he shut his mouth and looked at me as if really considering her words. "Oh, alright," he sighed. "But I need you to promise me to give it your best shot at tomorrow''s lesson. I want to see a major improvement from you, Your Highness." Then, Sir Andre moved closer to me so that he could tell me privately, "I know you have so much more potential."


    Dazed, I was led outside by Emery as it was obvious that my legs had gone all weak.


    Emery shut the door. "Princess," she said when we were outside, "do you want me to help you?"


    I squinted, not quite getting the meaning of her words. "Help me?"


    Emery twirled, and when I say she twirled exactly like a swan, I mean it. She gave the most graceful twirl I had ever seen and it certainly did leave me stunned.


    "I," she smiled, "can help you master the dance before the ceremony commences."

 Chapter 10 - Emerys Story [I]

    My name is Emery Tudnor and this is my story.


    I never really knew my real parents. The moment I was given birth to, I was sold off.


    I always wondered, why didn''t my parents need me? Was I ugly? Did they just take a look at me and decide "Nay, we mustn''t keep this unsightly, little child. Let us proffer it to someone else."


    No, I amn''t that ugly. My silver hair is rather eccentric, lovely for some, awful for others.


    So why was I given up? Just why? Was I the cause of my own mother''s death? Hopefully not...but even if I was, had I done it by intention? Never. So was I a product of the ignorant mistakes of one man and a woman? Most probably.


    If I was a child birthed due to a mistake, did I even deserve to live? I found myself thinking about this many instances in my life. Should I just kill myself? What is the purpose of me being here, with no one to depend on and on whom no one could depend? It never felt that I had a purpose in this life, only to be sold off to others so they could do whatever they want with me.


    Now then. For the first time, I was sold off to a broker named West Hughes when I was only 3 days old. I only know of his name because my mother had tucked a note into my small under-shirt, explaining the circumstances she was in. The note itself, I had lost from an early time on in my life and I barely remember it''s contents, but the name West Hughes stuck with me forever.


    As far as I remember being told, West Hughes kept me at his private nursing house for almost a year and a half, so he could restore my puny, premature body. There were apparently many more with me, suffering the same pains as me.


    The moment I looked like I could attract some attention, I was put up for sail. Again, for the second time in my life when I was only 1 year old. My unique, silver hair is what put me apart from the rest of the babies, so I was bought rather quickly and at a very favorable rate for Hughes.


    This time, I was bought by a performance group called ''The Gladiators''. These people believed that if they brought me up successfully and grew up pretty with such unusual hair, I would get their business a lot of fame and money. So I was brought up and trained by a woman who was also a part of the Gladiators. To me, she was like a mother, even though she kept refusing to be a replacement for my own. She fed me everyday, cleaned me up after and even taught me how to dance. Me, a total nobody.


    When I was finally 10 years old, and my hair was down to my knees, the Gladiators introduced me as an official part of their performances. I was to be called, ''Magic Girl''. My hair attracted a lot of attention and soon we were performing for the crowd. I remember it being very tiresome, dancing for total strangers...perverted men, insulting womenˇ­ The whole lot. It wasn''t as if I wanted to do it. I was a slave to the circus. A nobody. If it weren''t for my hair, I''d probably have ended up with some old geezer.


    For 4 years I performed along with the Gladiators.


    Then came another stage of my life.


    When I turned 14, I suddenly broke my leg in a live performance. After that I wasn''t able to perform with the Gladiators. It wasn''t that I was let off because of my injury. It was because too many eyes had seen me break a bone that nobody took the risk to make me perform again, or else the Gladiators might get reported. Again, I was sold off. I wasn''t even curious as to whom it was this time. I just wanted to hurry it up before I could be sold off again. But surprisingly, this time it wasn''t some performance group or a broker...it was a couple. A normal, middle-aged couple.


    "Why did we buy you?" the woman asked me when I moved in with them in their tiny house. "Baldwin, why did we buy this little girl?"


    Her husband turned to her and smiled. "Because we lost our daughter, my love. We were lonely and miserable, and so was she. But not to worry...we will raise this poor lass as our own."


    The woman looked at me and observed me for a long time. To me, it felt like an eternity. "Love, what''s your name?"


    With lifeless eyes, I looked up at her. "My name?" I mumbled. "Magic Girl."


    "No, honey," the man said. "That may have been what those clowns called you, but it isn''t your name. Emilda...would you like to choose a name for her?"


    Emilda looked at me once again. She looked at my face, my hair, my arms, my casted leg...


    "Emery," she said decisively. "That is your name."


    And from that point, my new life as Emery began.

 Chapter 11 - Emerys Story [II]

    I quickly learnt how to call Emilda and Baldwin, ''Mother'' and ''Father''.


    "My daughter," Emilda said. "I am aware of the problems you''ve faced in life, they may have been even harsher than ours. We just lost a daughter, but you...You lost your whole life, your whole identity. You had to go through such pain...I can''t even begin to imagine all that. I am so glad we got you."


    And I...I was also thankful.


    Mother and Father both were extremely kind and caring towards me. They got me properly treated for my arm and other small bruises I''d gotten from dancing. I got my shaggy silver hair cut into a neat, styled bob. Mother got me lovely, new dresses and Father bought me toys and books to use. I got my own bedroom as well, designed to my needs. It was a life only I could''ve dreamt of before.


    With this new life came new questions.


    I often found myself wondering, "Do I even deserve such unconditional love?" or "Am I even worth the price they paid for me?" or rather, "They aren''t even my real parents. Why do I have to follow their rules?" or "If I start acting up or against their preferences, will I be sold off once again?


    All of these thoughts scared me. Everyday I felt anxious while hanging around with Mother and Father, the thought of abandonment consistently lingering in my mind.. I tried to be on my best behavior, and my looks were what I started to care for for the first time ever. "If I become ugly again, will Mother and Father leave me?" I thought.


    No, I can''t let that happen.


    I decided to be a perfect daughter, the best anyone could ever ask for.


    I made sure to always be there when Mother was in the kitchen. I helped her put the laundry out. Sometimes, when Mother was tired, I''d dust the house down for her so that she wouldn''t have to. I even started to cook meals for them. When mother realized I was there to do all the work, she gradually got indolent and refused to do any housework.


    Before I knew it, I had practically become a maid to them.


    "Emery, clean this spill."


    "Emery, steam my clothes."


    "Emery, do the dishes."


    "Emery, cook dinner."


    It was always Emery this or Emery that. I was quickly getting quite sick of it.


    ?


    "Alright Emery, your Father and I will come back home soon. Before we do, I want the house spotless, you hear me?"


    "Yes, Mother," I mumbled.


    "Good. Come on, Baldwin."


    Thud.


    And they were gone.


    I walked around the house, noting if anything needed cleaning. The living room? Quite clean. My room? Fine. Mother and Father''s room? Spotless. Ohhh, the kitchen. That wasn''t fine at all.


    I rolled up my sleeves and approached the sink to start cleaning all the dishes. Mother and Father had had a few guests over a while ago, so there were more dishes than usual. I blankly reached for the soapy rag but when my hand touched a dry one, I looked over and realized that we had run out of soap.


    I sighed. Whatever shall I do now?


    I rolled down my sleeves and went over to Mother''s room. I checked under her pillow and found a few coins. Enough to buy a bar of dish soap. I sat down by the door as I put on my shoes. These were black, heavy walking boots Father had bought me a few months ago. "Last a long time," he had said.


    With the coins clinking inside my coat pocket, I too left the house for the local store. Who knew this small trip would bring a new hope to my life?


    ?


    "Hey, Mister? What''s everybody lookin'' at?"


    The man turned around and looked down at my small body and smiled.


    "What''s everybody cheerin'' at?" I asked.


    "Don''t you know, girl?" The man said. "It''s Priscilla. Everybody here knows her."


    "Who''s that?"


    "Look here." The man suddenly picked me up by the waist.


    Startled, I started to protest but then the sight I saw from where I was raised up in the air shut me up real quick. It was a prepossessing sight.


    The whole crowd had gathered around a girl in her early twenties. To me, she was the most fetching girl I had ever seen. A goddess. And she was dancing in the most enchanted way. My eyes filled her as she twirled and she jumped. Her graceful moves made my whole body twitch.


    This wasn''t the kind of dance I had been taught when I was one of the Gladiators. When I was there, I did all sorts of bold, funny moves. But this...this was like magic. This woman was an actual magic girl.


    "Mister," I whispered. "Mister, how does she do that?"


    "I don''t know, kid. But a true fancy, that one is."


    I looked again, my eyes glowing with awe and wonder. I wonder if Mother would allow me to do that. Would she allow me to dance so gracefully?


    "Absolutely not!" she shouted upon hearing my request. "I won''t let you dance like those vile prostitutes just so that men could ogle you."


    "But, Mother-"


    "No ''buts'' young lady. All you need to do right now, at this age, is to go clean all those dishes you left in the sink. That''s what you''ve got to do, not go learn how to do that disgusting twirling and hopping. Now go, before I get any angrier."


    I glanced at Mother''s face, disheartened, and ambled over to the kitchen to resume with my chores.


    Seriously! How could Mother just do that? I was greatly offended that she had referred to Priscilla as a ''prostitute'' when she really wasn''t one. All she did was dance and let everyone in town admire her talent. I didn''t see what was so wrong with doing so myself. If one possessed such talent, why not show it off to the world?


    That night I secretly tried to imitate Priscilla''s movements by my bed. To my utter dismay, I found that it was much harder than I had expected. Looking in the mirror, I discovered that my arms weren''t how they were supposed to look like and at times, my back didn''t bend all the way. It was very tiresome.


    I plopped on my bed, frustrated with my inability to imitate Priscilla''s graceful steps. It didn''t look so hard when I was watching upon her from the crowd. Or maybe was it because she made it look so effortless? Was that just the dancer''s illusion? If so, Iˇ­


    Day and night, when Mother wasn''t around, I''d go to my room and practice dancing. Yet I had no idea what this dance was called, but to me it was that of a goddess''.


    "Whatever have you been doing these days, locked up in your room? " Mother demanded one day. "You know I won''t tolerate any funny business, Emery. I''ve already got so much on my hands with your Father''s troubling debts recently, so I wish you not to bring up any more inconveniences."


    "Yes, Mother. I''ll make sure of it," I smiled, feigning innocence, "though I''ve only been reading."


    "As you should. But I need you around the house as well, so make sure to attend to me every now and then." I sighed with relief as Mother went away, asking no more questions.


    5 years of my life went away just like that.


    Then one day, when I was about to secretly go watch a dance performance nearby, my Mother came home calling for me excitedly.


    "Emery, my darling," she sang. "You won''t believe what I received just now!"


    "What might it be, Mother?" I asked, expeditiously taking off my coat in the other room.


    Mother laughed joyfully. "Will you believe it if I say that it''s a letter from the palace?"


    "From the palace?" I asked unbelievably. "Why ever would they send us a letter?"


    My mother glanced at me sneakily. "A month or so ago, the palace put up a note on the public bulletin board that they were looking for more maids and servants. I thought it would be a good opportunity for you to work at the palace, so I had your name written in the list. And guess what," she squealed, "they wrote back to us. And it says that you were hired! Oh joy, Emery. From next week onwards, you''ll be working at the palace."


    My hopes, my dreams...all came crashing down in front of my very eyes. My heart sank as I realized what Mother had done.


    "B-but Mother..." My voice trailed off. "I-"


    "Enough of that, my daughter," she stopped me. "I say you will work there and my word is final, got that?"


    I sighed. "Yes."


    And that''s how I ended up at the palace.

 Chapter 12 - Priestess Grishas Prophecy

    For the next few days, my dance lessons with Emery continued in private. In the afternoon, she would come to my room with one excuse or another. I would send Martha away for the time being for an errand or something, which would give us at max half an hour to practice.


    The thing is, Emery, a mere maid possessed such beautiful dancing skills that it made me wonder why she came to the palace in the first place instead of pursuing a career in the art.


    "I wasn''t allowed to," she sighed, giving a wistful smile. "My Mother and Father believe that dancing is the work of the devil."


    "How come?" I asked. "You''re so light on your feet; you''re gifted at this, Emery, really!"


    "I appreciate it but there''s nothing I could''ve done about my parents'' preference. It is them that make the rules for me and how I must live, for I am of the opinion that my existence is just a burden."


    "Emery..." I knew exactly what this felt like. My mother used to choose my life for me as well. There were so many limitations to my viability before she passed away.


    I always wanted to become an athlete of some sort. Everyday in the park, watching teenagers bike around, women playing tennis and men picking up dumbbells instilled in me the need to try it all out myself.


    "Mom? Mom, can you please buy me a bicycle?" I''d ask pleadingly, my hopes way up with the clouds.


    "Get the f**k away from me," she''d swat me away with her hand. "Do you think I''m made of money or something? Always asking me for this or that. Go get it with your own savings, I''ve got bills to pay, you ungrateful brat."


    "B-but Mom," I mumbled, "I don''t have any savings."


    She''d glare at me. "Not my problem. Go clean the dishes, that''s what you ought to do."


    "Emery," I said. "What would you do if you ever get a chance to live a rich life?"


    She hadn''t anticipated such a question, apparently. "There''s a low chance of that happening, but if it does...then I suppose I''ll live my dreams."


    I tilted my head. "Your dreams?"


    "Yes. I''ll attend a high-class dancing school. Dance in theaters, if possible. I''ll show off my talent to the world," she said, dreamingly. "I''ll do what makes me happy."


    How nice it must feel to have a dream. My dream of being an athlete vanished long ago with my mother''s passing away. After that, I just learnt to live with what I''ve got, not to expect for more. Except for Jieum, no one knew that I wanted to do sports. But I never pursued that path because there wasn''t much money to spare on my ''extra'' needs.


    But now that I think about it, I''m rich now, aren''t I? I''m the Crown Princess of a whole damn Empire, I could do whatever I want now. But how would everyone react when the cute, gentle princess starts to suddenly show interest in sports. Yeah, no, I can''t risk it.


    "Your Highness," Emery said. "I think we''re done with the lesson for today. I''ll come back tomorrow, same time." She opened the door but stopped before passing the threshold. "Good luck, Your Highness."


    ...


    She left.


    I plopped down on my bed, exhausted. "Reynard," I said. "You can come out now."


    After a few moments of complete silence, the closet of my room burst open, and I heard a large thud.


    "Are you alright?" I asked emotionlessly, without looking over at the closet.


    "Yeah, no my cloak fell down."


    "But what about that noise?"


    "I was in my cloak," he groaned.


    "Really, Reynard?" I scoffed, rolling over to face him.


    "Do you know how suffocating it was to be locked up with so many poofy  dresses for half an hour!? I was dying in there. I think my lungs might have taken a toll on me."


    "Right, right...whatever," I said. "Who told you to turn up here again without any notice? You should''ve known that I might have company. And with the ceremony so close, people have been coming and going, preparing me for all sorts of activities."


    Reynard coughed while he seated himself against the mural wall on the plush, purple carpet. "Ah, the ceremony. It''s a popular topic of conversation among all the people in the Empire. All the nobles are receiving invitations for attending it, inland and out. The dress-makers are in full action, overflowing with orders. Everyone''s really excited to see the Princess, too."


    Ah, all of this just added to my anxiety. "How do you know all this, Reynard? Are you perhaps of noble-class as well?"


    "No, no," Reynard said, embarrassed. "I just have my way of knowing things."


    I stared at Reynard suspiciously. How was I to know if his words were to be believed or not? I knew nothing about him except for his name. He refuses to talk about his life and background, not letting anything get past me.


    "We haven''t any time to bicker about such unimportant topics," I said, standing up. Martha could be back any minute now. I had sent her on an errand to get me some new gloves for the ceremony, rather than going personally. Of course she had suggested that it was better if I go in person so I could get my preferences sorted out, but to me this was laborious work and I also needed to attend Emery''s private lessons. So I told her about my preferred style so she could get it for me and advised her to ''take her time''. A tough one she was, Martha.


    "Help me move this nightstand, will you?"


    Obediently, Reynard stood up rather roughly and picked up the whole, heavy nightstand as if it weighed nothing and moved it to my desired spot: in front of the door. "Alright, this will help us stall some time if someone tries to barge in uninvited again," I said. "You might need to go back in the closet if such an event arises."


    "As you please, Princess," Reynard sighed as he sat back down. "Now, let''s continue from where we left off last time, shall we?" I nodded, sitting down comfortably on the bed.


    "I was talking about the prophecy. I am aware that you have no idea what that is."


    "No."


    "Then...how about I tell you a story."


    He probably perceived my silence as a sign to go on.


    Reynard cleared his throat before beginning,


    "Long ago, there was a priestess called Priestess Grisha. She was widely followed and sought after, because she claimed that she was the vessel of god himself. In her lifetime, she introduced many revelations that the people gladly followed, as they were slaves to this so-called god.


    "Priestess Grisha lived for a good 100 years, much to everyone''s surprise. On her deathbed, she was surrounded by people including palace officials, locals, priests and whatnot. Everyone was marking time to hear her last words. On the very day of her death, she announced a prophecy that had just come to her, a prophecy that was directly received from ''God''.


    "In 500 years time, Wisteria will be blessed with a princess...the first princess to ever be born to the Empire. This Princess, she will be a godly beauty to behold, a beauty that will bloom even further on her coming of age. On that day, the Princess will be blessed with divine powers, powers that even the priestess knew not of. With these powers, the Princess will benefit her people, gain the favor of the Empire, be loved by everyone. But of course, there''s a dark side to this prophecy as well.


    "Upon turning eighteen, the Princess will be sacrificed to this ''God''. She will be drowned in the Pond Of Divinity, a fairly popular tourist sight of Wisteria. The Princess must be sacrificed or else the Empire will decline into an age of darkness and ruination. But if the Princess is sacrificed on her eighteenth birthday, her soul will forever protect the Empire, watching over it with her divine powers. Her essential sacrifice will bring forward the golden period of Wisteria, a true blessing from ''God''.


    "The only condition everyone needed to take care of, was that the Princess herself must never know of this prophecy in her limited lifetime, or else the proceedings will be void and of no avail."


    I stared blankly at Reynard, as he paused his story. "How is that connected to me?" I asked, puzzled.


    "Princess, do you not get it?" Reynard asked incredulously.


    I continued to stare blankly at his face. To me, the story that I just heard seemed like a mere fairytale. No way could I actually be the Princess mentioned in this priestess''s prophecy.


    "Your Highness," he cried, "you are that princess."

 Chapter 13 - Advice

    [The Emperor''s Study]


    "Your Majesty, Count Atraxil requests a private audience."


    "Ah..." Emperor Haleth looked up at the door and nodded, "...Butler. Let him in."


    The door shut and then soon, it was opened again.


    "Your Majesty," Count Atraxil''s voice bounced off the study walls. "I thank you for granting my plea. I come bearing urgent news."


    At this, the Emperor closed his book and folded his arms above his desk. "Pray tell."


    "It is regarding the agreement with Clatoise," Count Atraxil looked nervously at the Emperor.


    "You may carry on."


    Count Atraxil fumbled with his hands as he tripped over his words. "I''m quite certain you are aware that in the present circumstances, my son is overseas, residing in Clatoise as a merchant." Count Atraxil lifted his gaze for a brief moment to peek at the Emperor''s expression. "He...he sent me a strange note yesterday, concerning the fast-spreading rumors among the locals there. He paused as the Emperor cleared his throat.


    "Zyair." Emperor Haleth smiled. "Do take a seat. Hadley," he gestured to his maid. "Bring us both a lovely cup of tea. Check with the cook if we still have those saffron biscuits." When Hadley had gone to attend to his orders, Emperor Haleth turned to Count Atraxil once again. "Now, before you continue telling me about this ''rumor'' you know of, why don''t you ask after your daughter?"


    "O-Oh..." Count Atraxil sweated. "Yes, how is Odette faring at the palace? No inconveniences from her, I hope?"


    "Not a single one," the Emperor chuckled. "My, what a lovely creature she is, always thinking well of the others. I''d even say she''s a treat at nighttime as well. I commend you on raising her well."


    Blushing with embarrassment and masked fury, Count Atraxil laughed off the Emperor''s words. "You embarrass me, Your Majesty. Now about the Clatoise situation..."


    "Haha, what''s the hurry, my good sir?" The Emperor nodded as Hadley brought in the tea tray. "Have a cup of tea before we get into the serious talk. Now, would you prefer it rose or green?"


    "Rose, if you please." Count Atraxil took a cup of Rose tea from Hadley.


    "Now, you shall begin whatever it is that you wish to relay to me. The Emperor took a loud sip.


    "Ah, so the thing is..." Count Atraxil began, wringing his hands. "It has come to my knowledge that King Irvin is planning to take his next mistress from our whereabouts...but he''s also decided to send one of his own prized women to you as a ''peace'' treaty, as they say."


    Emperor Haleth smiled secretively. "And who is this rumored woman that has struck his fantasy, pray would you tell, Zyair?"


    "It is Rosa Gradral of Eyress. She''s a very renowned personality amongst the artisans of the very area."


    This came as a surprise to the Emperor. "How interesting," he mumbled. "And are you also aware of the woman he has planned to send to me?"


    "No, Your Majesty."


    Ah, well, the Emperor thought, the bastard Irvin is desperate to settle this matter. But how insulting does he have to be to think that such a feud could be resolved only by the off-putting exchange of mere women?


    But Emperor Haleth was aware that Irvin would do whatever he could possibly do to get a woman he fancies, after all, he is a lecherous, old clod.


    "Zyair," the Emperor said. "Your son, what was his name, Marcelo, he...is he perhaps well acquainted with Irvin?"


    "Uh...I''d say that he is certainly wary of a Wisterian like him."


    "Then..." the Emperor said, "send him a letter back with a royal stamp on it and tell him to make sure to relay it to Irvin carefully."


    Confused, Count Atraxil asked, "But Your Majesty, is something the matter with your official messenger?"


    "Not quite," Emperor Haleth tutted. "I''m afraid that my letters to Irvin are being intercepted, seeing that I haven''t gotten a reply back to a few of them. And very important ones at that. Anyhow, your son is to personally make sure that my letter to him is safely received, understood?"


    Count Atraxil nodded, solemn in his manners. "I''ll make sure of it, Your Majesty."


    "Now, now!" The Emperor said loudly and lightheartedly. "I''ve been meaning to discuss the matter with the gold mines with you."


    ?


    [Meanwhile, In Cynthia''s Chambers]


    "Your Highness," Reynard begged, "you''ve got to believe me!"


    "No, certainly not. You aren''t actually implying that I am this unfortunate princess you speak of? No, it can''t be." I paced the room, distressed. "If you''ve got to joke about something so serious as my life, I advise you to take it to the theaters."


    Distressed himself, Reynard scratched his scalp aggressively. "Your Highness, now why would I joke about such a topic when I''ve got nothing to gain from it? I told you before and I''ll say it once again, I''m literally risking my life to let you know of this."


    How could I so easily believe him? After all, I knew nothing about this guy. His first name didn''t give away anything of much importance to me. I openly glared at him, letting him know of my feelings.


    "All I wanted to do was to help you escape this future tragedy of yours," he said sincerely.


    "There''s one thing I have yet to understand," I said, thinking over my words. "Why did you have to go through such extents to help me escape my fate? My fate, not yours. Do you not want the Empire to flourish?"


    "It isn''t exactly so..." he said. "There are some clauses to this prophecy that aren''t exactly well known."


    "And how do you know of them?"


    "I-I have my ways!" Reynard said, defensively. "Believe me, princess, when the right time comes, I will certainly let you know of them. But what I want of you, at the moment, is to build up your will to survive. If you don''t possess the drive to escape your pre-decided fate yourself, then even I won''t be able to help you."


    Such deep words from an extremely suspicious man. Very suspicious.


    "Let''s say I believe you," I said. "Then what? What is it that you''ll do?"


    "Then I''ll do all that is in my power to ensure your life beyond 18."


    Hm...it was a tempting idea, indeed. Of course I''d love to live a long, luxurious life, not to say that I was having the time of my life here, eating all this good food. But how would this one man help me if the whole Empire was fixed on having me sacrificed for their own flourishment and well-being? Even if I was to run away, my well known face and such glistening signature hair would get me caught in no time.


    "But of course, I''ll demand something in exchange for my deeds, Your Highness."


    I sighed as I looked upon this beautiful man with curiosity. "What is it that you wish for? Is it money?" A personal favorite. "Power?" Famous among greedy men. "Or fame?" Ah, for the lovely attention-seekers.


    Reynard chuckled. "How very tempting, but unfortunately, none of it is what I desire."


    "Then? You can''t possibly need my hand in marriage, I hope?"


    He burst out laughing. "I wouldn''t dream of it, Your Highness."


    "Oh, just spit it out then!" I cried impatiently, looking at him with disdain. "Stop beating around the bush, will you?"


    Gathering himself, Reynard spoke as he stood up, checking his cloak in my full-length mirror, "I want you to stay away from the Emperor."


    I was taken aback, not expecting such a request. Why would a man ask a girl to be wary of her own father? I repeat, he was very suspicious.


    "You may be wondering why I''m asking you to stay away from your own father." Spot on. "Well, I can''t tell you why, unfortunately." Dang. "But all I can do for now, is advise you."


    I grumbled at this weird request. There was so much Reynard was hiding from me, so much that I was yet to know. So much about this mysterious world that was still beyond my understanding. But there must''ve been a reason he asked me to do something so strange. The Emperor did seem like a fishy man, but not so fishy that I had to be cautious of him. But of course, I knew very little of him.


    "My father isn''t aˇ­" I paused, "he won''t beat me, would he?"


    Reynard raised an eyebrow but smiled reassuringly. "I''m sure he won''t. Though I have my reasons to advise you to be cautious around him. I won''t force you to do anything, so it''s up to you if you want to take my advice or not."


    Reynard moved towards the balcony but I quickly stopped him. "Wait," I held out my hand. "There''s one more thing I''d like to know."


    Reynard stopped in his tracks and turned to face me. "Pray ask, my Princess."


    I blushed, but it didn''t stop me from asking what I wanted. "Everyone''s been acting funny when I ask about my motherˇ­ Is there something perhaps you could tell me about her?" I looked up at him hopefully.


    "All I can disclose at the moment," he reached for the glass doors, "is that she was involved in foul play."


    "How so?" I asked, curious.


    Reynard chuckled. "All in good time, Your Highness. I''ll tell you soon only if you take my advice."


    I sighed. "You drive a hard bargain, sir," I smiled as my eyes followed him out the balcony.. "But I accept."

 Chapter 14 - Morning Flames

    Elora''s distant screams are what aroused me from my slumber next morning.


    "Martha, whatˇ­?" I asked, still half asleep.


    Martha was rummaging in my closet. "Quick, Your Highness, we have no time to waste," she urged as she took out a white, fluffy robe. She brought it over to my bed and laid it on the duvet.


    "What''s happened?" .


    She sighed. "The palace kitchen has caught on fire," she said as she helped me in the robe. "We aren''t sure how it happened but what we do know is that the fire has spread to the palace corridors."


    "The kitchen in the west wing, you mean? But it''s quite close to the Women''s Room," I mumbled as I slipped on my slippers. "Has it burned down?"


    "I am not sure. Nobody got close enough to confirm, but from the outside it is quite visible that the whole kitchen and the corridor outside has been reduced to ashes. Oh, hurry it up, Your Highness," Martha said impatiently as she knelt down to help my feet into the slippers. "Follow me, now. Make sure you keep a napkin over your nose to avoid any harmful inbreathing of smoke. The corridors are reeking with it." She took a rag out of her pocket and covered her own nose.


    I followed Martha as she opened the door. "Stick close to me, Your Highness." And off we went.


    The palace was swarming with palace staff running in different directions. I almost got knocked down by a servant in tears, running away from the direction of the fire. Guards were running either with or without buckets of water in their clasps towards the dense clouds of smoke. Maids were running with their valuables clutched to their chests and some were even barefoot. Martha led the way for me amidst all this chaos, occasionally checking up on me behind her back.


    "Are we to go to the palace gardens?" I asked, my voice barely audible because of the napkin on my face. I wasn''t sure if Martha heard so I removed the napkin and repeated it but the smoke made me cough so the question came out in a series of splutters and gasps.


    "Your Highness, are you alright? I told you not to remove the cloth," she said worriedly, but kept moving. "We''re almost outside." Oh. So we really were going out in the gardens. I wonder if everyone else would be there, safe and sound. Hopefully, nobody was caught by the fire.


    I took a huge gulp of fresh air as I stepped out into the gardens. Humans really do take good oxygen for granted, I realized. It felt heavenly to breathe in and not be met by a black cloud of bitter smoke.


    I looked around for the others and spotted the royal crowd. Amongst the crowds of people, I must have caught the Emperor''s eye because he came running towards me, his arms outstretched. "Cynthia, my daughter!" he cried as he swooped me in his arms. "Are you alright? I was afraid you might sleep through this whole situation if no one came to pick you up, so I sent your maid and some guards to get you out of there. How are you feeling?"


    I registered his words and smiled as I gently pulled out of his tight grasp. "I''m doing fine, Father. Martha came to get me at just the right moment." From the sides of my eyes, I saw Elora who, despite all the earlier screaming, seemed in perfect condition, if a bit unkempt. Her hair was poking out in different directions in a frenzy. Every few seconds, she would hand-brush her hair, and asked her maid to make sure if she looked presentable. As the Emperor burst out laughing with relief after making sure that I was alright, Elora''s eyes fixed on mine as she looked upon me with contempt.


    "Your Majesty!" She approached us with long, striding steps. "Your Majesty, would you please look here," she tugged the Emperor''s rob, trying to gain his attention. "Look, I got hurt while running from the fire. It pains me so much!" She tried to show her barely scratched arm to the Emperor but his attention was elsewhere. "Forgive me, my darling, I''m a bit busy at the moment, he said, distracted as he looked around for someone. "Wick!" he called to a nearby guard. "Where''s Gradral? Did you see him leave the barracks?"


    "No, Your Majesty!" he called back.


    The Emperor went off to talk to another nearby guard, leaving me and Elora all alone.


    "Another one of your tricks, I suppose?"


    I whipped my head around to see Elora''s face right up close to mine. Oof, not another tiff with this despicable woman. "Pardon? Are you addressing me?"


    Annoyed, Elora pulled her face back and examined me. "No, I''m talking to the ducks in the pond over there. Of course I''m talking to you," she said. "Do you have any idea how worried he was because you didn''t make it out even after 20 minutes of sending the little rescue group to you? You could''ve saved him so much hassle if you had made it out yourself."


    "So..." I said, thinking over what she had just said. "Am I supposed to, like, apologize?"


    Even more annoyed, Elora once again raked her hair with her hands. "Shouldn''t you? To the Emperor?"


    "I don''t suppose so," I said, getting tired of standing there. "He''s my father. It''s his duty to ensure my safety."


    Elora scoffed. "Whatever," she retorted. "But remember that he bears more affection for me than he does for you, you get that?" And with those words, she went striding off to the other women, not even sparing me a glance back.


    "Oˇ­.kay....?" I said, confused. I had learnt to not pay much heed to Elora''s insignificant bickering. She was always trying to prove the Emperor''s love for her, every single time I''ve had a chance to conversate with her. It was as if she believed that a father should love his mistress more than his daughter. What a load of hogwash.


    "Lorelei!" I called as I spotted a head of blonde hair.


    "Your Highness!" Lorelei turned around at my call. "What a relief. We all thought you won''t be able to get out in time. Christa even threw up at the thought."


    "No I did NOT!" Christabel defended herself, her cheeks flushed. "It was the smoke, I swear upon it. Your Highness," Christabel turned to face me, "I would never do anything of the sort. After all, I''m a lady."


    Lorelei snickered at which Christabel turned to her and pounced at her. "How dare you, you insolent woman!"


    "CHRISTA! AREN''T YOU A LADY!?" Lorelei shrieked. "Your Highness, save meˇ­.!"


    After sometime, we were all laughing, sitting on the dewy, morning grass.


    "A pity, isn''t it?" Lorelei sighed. "Half of the west wing has been burnt down, according to Odette''s analytics. Even the Women''s room wasn''t left unscorched. To think that all of my art supplies were stored there."


    All of us observed the palace exterior while similar thoughts ran through our minds. I eyed the window frames along the walls, counting how many windows there were. My eyes moved to the front door of the west wing of the palace, where maids and guards were still running around, in and out.


    "There are only 4 days left until the ceremony, too. It''s quite unusual how the fire struck out at such a time...we''ve all lived here long enough to know that the kitchen staff are extremely skilled, the best of the best, personally selected by His Majesty," Christabel said, addressing nobody in general. "Never has such an event occurred."


    Now that she mentioned it, I found it quite strange as well. This wasn''t some small, typical kitchen fire. There must''ve been enough guards around to diffuse it, if that actually was the case.


    No, this wasn''t a small thing, it was a big fire. If we perceive this logically, we could maybe find the answer. Breakfast preparations don''t start before 7 am. Martha had woken me up at exactly 7:03, so it was impossible to imagine that the fire had been started because of the cooks. No, the fire started before the breakfast preparations; before the staff entered the kitchen. Such a fire...there was only one possible answer.


    We all turned to look at each other at the same time.


    "Oh Lord, it cannot be," I whispered.


    Lorelei gulped. "It has to be."


    "What? What is it?" Christabel sweated profusely. "I don''t get it."


    Lorelei and I turned in unison to stare at Christabel.


    "Arson."

 Chapter 15 - Im Not Alone

    Everyone muttered to each other furtively as they waited for the meeting to begin. The Emperor had ordered for all the palace staff to gather in the main palace hall because he had something important to relay.


    "I''m sure it''s about that fire yesterday," Christabel muttered beside me. "What do you reckon, Your Highness?" She turned to me, waiting for my response.


    "You may be right."


    The fire at the palace yesterday had been quite a big deal. It was obvious that most of the west wing had been burnt down when the fire was finally diffused. The kitchen where once most of our meals were prepared, was completely destroyed. Even the Women''s room and Lorelei''s art supplies were beyond saving.


    But unfortunately, it wasn''t just property that had been damaged. We had also lost three lives. These belonged to the guard stationed by the kitchen, the old cleaning man who used to clean up the whole kitchen till it was spotless before the morning breakfast preparation hours, and a brave maid who sacrificed herself to save a fellow worker who got caught up by the fire.


    Thinking about all of these deaths made me feel very nauseous. Being burned to death. What a painful experience it must be.


    "Your Highness," Lorelei shook me. "Are you alright? You look quite pale. Perhaps you are feeling sick?"


    I blinked, shaking myself from my daze. "I''m sure it''s nothing," I laughed uncertainly. Actually, I really did feel sick. This feeling had appeared a few minutes after Lorelei and I had come to the conclusion that the fire had been caused by arson.


    "Oh, please," Christabel had said. "Why would you think it was arson? Can''t the cooks just have caused an accident?"


    "Christa think about it," Lorelei urged. "The fire must''ve started way before the staff even got to the kitchen. I was notified of the event somewhere around 6:55. The staff aren''t allowed to enter the kitchen before 7 am, the guard isn''t allowed to let them in."


    "Butˇ­but that''s just absurd!"


    "I am aware." Lorelei turned to me, then. "What about you, Your Highness? What do you think of this matter?"


    I thought all of the details over once more in my head as I picked on the grass beside me. But unfortunately, my conclusion stayed the same. "I''m certain there was foul play involved," I said slowly. "But why would someone do such a thing?"


    "That, we''ll have to figure out."


    "Attention!" bellowed a guard. "His Royal Majesty, Emperor Haleth Klaern II is about to enter!"


    Everyone fell silent as the Emperor''s footsteps echoed through the whole room, and he finally appeared (accompanied by Sir Gradral just in tow) on the platform above us.


    "My dear subjects," he said loudly for each and everyone one to hear. "My loyal workers. I have gathered you all here today to discuss the unfortunate event that arose yesterday. I''m sure most of you are aware of what happened in the west wing palace." He paused and whispered something to Sir Gradral, who then disappeared out of our line of sight. "It''s truly a saddening event," he continued. "I''m certain it has caused us all immense grief, more so to the families of the hapless victims that were caught by the flames."


    "What was the name of that one maid?" Christabel asked, who stood on the other side of Lorelei.


    "Which maid?" Lorelei whispered back.


    "You know..." Christabel hesitated. "The victim."


    Sudden realization crossed Lorelei''s face. "Ah. My maid informed me of her. I''m sure her name was along the lines of Emily or Emiry."


    "You don''t mean Emery, do you?" I intercepted, uncertain.


    "Yes," Lorelei said, surprised. "I think that''s it. But princess...are you alright?"


    It felt as if my whole body had been paralyzed. I stared into the distance, focusing on no specific object, unblinking. At that moment, in the midst of the crowd, I was aware of my own heartbeat as it suddenly sped up. It was as if I was seeing myself in third person. My hand slowly went over my mouth, my fingers twitching. My eyes widened as I realized the weight of Lorelei''s words, to the point where my eyeballs started hurting.


    Emery... young, sweet Emeryˇ­. The girl who helped me sneak out of my lesson. The girl who volunteered to teach me how to dance when she had nothing to gain from it. The girl who had a dream...a dream to show off her talent to the world. The girl who was burnt alive. Burnt alive because she was too distracted helping another maid survive.


    My eyes welled up with tears while the Emperor was still speaking.


    "I want all of you to make sure that the word of the recent accident does not spread out among the Wisterians. It is for the sole purpose that the people do not start worrying about it, with the Princess''s coming of age so close. Whoever goes against my order will be severely punished. That is all. Oh and I forgot to mention that I will personally make sure to amend the families of the victims, hence there is no need to worry."


    "Your Highness, why are you crying? What is the matter?" Lorelei asked, worriedly.


    "I''m so sorry," I sobbed. "I need to go..." I turned around to leave, looking for the exit.


    "That concludes our meeting," The Emperor said.


    I was surprised at myself. Never had I cried ever in my life. I didn''t cry when I broke my leg in kindergarten. I didn''t cry when my Mom slapped me because of it. I didn''t cry when Juwon got dangerously sick. I didn''t cry when my Mom didn''t buy me a bicycle. I didn''t cry when my Mom died. I didn''t cry when Juwon and I had nothing to eat for a whole day. I never cried when I was bullied at my new school.


    But I cried when I realized that Emery had been burnt alive. The poor soul didn''t deserve it.


    "Your Highness, wait up!" Christabel called after me as I ran out of the room.


    I ran and I ran and I ran. Ran to my room. I locked it by placing a chair under the door handle so that even Martha couldn''t enter. I locked the balcony door and threw open the curtains so that Reynard couldn''t enter as well. I threw myself down on my bed, face-first and quietly sobbed into the pillows.


    "Your Highness! Your Highness would you please open the door!" It was Christabel. Had she really ran after me all the way here? "Your Highness, what''s the matter?" Then she lowered her voice to speak to someone else. "Lorel, what happened?"


    "I do not know," Lorelei''s distant, muffled voice responded. "Your Highness! We do not want to alert the guards and make them break open the door. So please let us in yourself."


    Without any other choice to rely on, I teetered to the door and slowly unlocked it. The instant the two women outside heard the metal lock click open, they pushed against the door and before I knew it, they were alright inside.


    "Ahhh," Christabel cried as she saw my red-rimmed eyes. "Princess...no..."


    My body froze as both of them hugged me at the same time and we all fell in a heap on the carpet below.


    "Is this about that maid?" Lorelei asked softly. "Did she mean something to you?"


    I nodded my head as new tears started to gather.


    "Ah don''t be like that," Christabel said in my ear as she petted my lilac hair which had been tied back for the occasion. "She was a very good girl...I knew her not so well, but she always seemed so kind to me and everyone else."


    "But she did end up dying a hero," Lorelei smiled. "Do you know the maid whom she saved? That maid was pregnant. Which means Emery ended up saving two people''s lives. We all should be thankful that such a kind-hearted, selfless girl blessed us with her presence in our lifetimes."


    For some reason, this made me feel so much better. Emery had served her purpose in this world, and I was very thankful to that.


    "Now let''s get you all cleaned up," Lorelei smiled. "I''ll go get your maid."


    After a while, it was just me and Christabel on the floor, our backs against the bed.


    "Cheer up, Princess," Christabel tried to lighten my mood. "I''m sure you will come by many other people like that maid in your life. It''s best to keep the sweet memories you have of her locked up in your mind and let them not hinder with the ceremony. The whole Empire wants to see you on your big day, so let''s not spill water all over their hopes, shall we?"


    I nodded and tried to form my lips into a smile.


    "You know, Christabel, I realized something today."


    "And that is?" She looked at me.


    I looked at her back. "That I''m not alone in this world. There are many who genuinely care about me."


    Christabel laughed sweetly. "Of course you aren''t alone. You''ve got me, your father, Lorel and all the palace staff are on your side too. We all love you dearly."


    "I see." I smiled to myself.


    "And also," she said abruptly. "Can you not call me by my full name? I would love if you call me Christa."


    I smiled once again at her strange little request.


    "Of course, Christa."

 Chapter 16 - Going Out?

    Only 3 days left until the ceremony.


    Today was totally bizarre. I had absolutely no more privacy anymore. Servants were coming in and out of my new room without even asking for my permission. It seemed everyone was in quite a hurry to finish the remaining preparations for the ceremony.


    Yes, I got assigned a new room. This is how the conversation went:


    "So...I can''t go into my room for a while?"


    "Yes, Your Highness," Martha said.


    I pouted. "But why? My room wasn''t burned as well, was it? So why can''t I go in there?"


    "Your Highness, it was definitely polluted by the smoke. We can''t let you in under such circumstances. You''ll have to make do with another bedroom temporarily."


    So the new bedroom I received was quite similar to the one before. But the only thing that bothered me about it was that I hadn''t a balcony anymore. I was worried that Reynard would eventually stop coming over because the balcony was apparently his only entrance. If he really did put an end to our occasional meetings, then my chances of survival would deteriorate.


    I had to do something about it. Soon.


    "Your Highness," Martha opened the door to my room. "I''m coming in." And she was in. "We need your presence in the ballroom at the moment. The Butler has brought in quality wallpaper samples from town and it is your duty to choose one for the ceremony according to your own preferences."


    "What is it that I have to do?"


    Martha put her hands on her hips, appearing impatient. "You''ll need to pick and choose the right color and design for the wallpaper you need to have up on the day of the ceremony. Make sure that it''s event appropriate as well."


    I got off of my new armchair where I sat reading a book. Looking in the mirror, I arranged my hair that was in a braid today (compliments to Marilynne) and straightened the back of my dress. It was green satin, so the wrinkles came out quite effortlessly.


    "Lead the way," I said, placing the book back in the bookshelf.


    "So," the butler held up a square piece of paper, "here we''ve got a nice beige, with a beautiful warm undertone and here," he switched the paper with another, "we''ve got a nice, light blue. This will surely bring out a cool, breezy atmosphere at the ceremony. Which one do you like, Your Highness?"


    "None," I said. This was boring me out of my skull. Did I really have nothing better to do than select wallpapers with this old guy? "Martha what time is it?"


    "Almost noon, Your Highness."


    "Say, when is my trip to the dressmaker scheduled?"


    A few days ago, I had taken up on the Emperor''s offer to go visit the VIP dressing stores to get my dress for the ceremony. I hadn''t really planned on going into town, but the opportunity arose by itself. It was a swell opportunity too. Now I could have an excuse to see how Wisteria really operates and what the people think of their Princess. They surely wouldn''t be eager to have me sacrificed, would they?


    "We can go whenever you want. Do you want the dressmaker to come visit you in the comfort of your bedroom or would you like to go drop by personally?" Martha asked.


    I glanced back at her. "I''d rather go by myself."


    After giving me a long, slightly disapproving stare, she finally spoke. "Alright, I''ll send someone to go notify Sir Gradral."


    "Your Highness," the poor butler spoke up himself. "Do select a design so we could have it up by today."


    I turned my attention back to the wallpaper samples the Butler held in his hands. "Show me something else. I need something more, something better. Wow me."


    Nervously, the Butler crouched down and shuffled through the box of samples until he found something he deemed was worth showing. "This," he smiled, "this is a very lovely choice, if I do say so myself, Your Highness. Very feminine and exactly what the people picture when they think of Your Highness."


    "Its ''meh''. Next." I dismissed the square of pink that was brought before me. I peeked in the box myself, hoping to see an actually pretty wallpaper. "Ah," I yelped. "Take that one out." I pointed vaguely at the box''s contents. The Butler tried to figure out which way my finger was pointing but instead of choosing the wrong design, he timidly asked me to specify.


    "The green one," I said impatiently.


    The butler took out my desired design and I gently took it from his hands to take a closer look. What I had chosen was a rather pretty shade of green, very easy on the eyes. It was very light; you could even say it was minty. It reminded me of the forest. As if I was actually living in the forest, residing in a small cabin within. Birds flew past me and deers stopped by occasionally. The wind was pleasant and clear as it twirled upon my face. My ears could catch the rustling of the forest trees which sent to me an aroma of fresh, dewy leaves.


    "Yes, this one," I said to the Butler. "Have this one put up for the ceremony. That is final."


    "Certainly, Your Highness. Oi, Jon! C''mere, will ya?" And the Butler got busy with the preparations. From far away, I heard him ask, "What does ''meh'' mean?"


    I stood idle in the ballroom, looking around at the beautifully carved sculptures along the ceilings. I noticed many angels with their wings spread open, slightly tilted towards myself, as if all of them were joined in protecting me.


    "Your Highness," I heard a voice call behind me. I stirred my head around and saw Sir Gradral, his head bowing down to me. Then he stood up straight as I beckoned him to. "Are you ready to leave?"


    "Um," I hesitated, "let me just get some suitable footwear from my bedroom. Don''t mind waiting a moment."


    I heard Sir Gradral assent to my statement as I fast-walked to my room. I looked around the unfamiliar palace corridor, trying to find my way back.


    Oh, dammit.


    I had been assigned a totally new bedroom which I had quite forgotten the way to. I had no idea how to get there as I hadn''t made many trips to and from it in these two short days. I was still unfamiliar with this wing of the palace, it appeared. I approached a random guard nearby, hoping to get some information out of him. "Could you perhaps direct me to my bedroom, sir?" Ew, Seonhee. Why did you sound so mousy? Toughen up, you!


    "Your Highness," the guard bowed in acknowledgement. "Would you like me to accompany you?"


    "No," I said, more firmly this time. "Just tell me where it is. You see, I am still unfamiliar with this area."


    The guard fought a smile as he pointed out to me my directions. "From here on, you''ll need to take that next left and take the second right after that. Your bedroom should be beyond the fourth door."


    I quickly thanked the guard and ran off to find my bedroom, hoping that Sir Gradral won''t have to wait for long. I was already inconveniencing him by taking him on such a trip with me which was bound to be very tiresome. Making him wait for it would certainly add to the bother.


    I threw open the door to my room and almost fell down on my face when I saw Reynard sitting comfortably on my armchair, my book spread open on his lap.


    "Your Highness!" he beamed as he stood up. "You''re finally back. I-"


    "Wait!" I held my hand up, carefully closing the door behind me. "Reynard...how did you-"


    "Ah, you mean to ask how I got here?" he cut off my words. "Well it was nothing really. All I had to do was keep an eye on those maids of yours. But don''t take offence to such words of mine. I mean no harm, of course."


    "Of course," I mumbled, annoyed. "What happened now? Why did you come here? And why would you so recklessly sit in my room like that- so plainly visible- when anyone could''ve come in, uncalled for. What if it was someone else who came in here and caught you, not me? You''d be punished for such an offence. You know, breaking and entering?"


    "Oh, there''s no chance of that happening," he smiled slyly. "I know what I''m doing."


    Yeah, right. Tough guy, this one was.


    "Fine, whatever," I said, picking up my shoes by the closet. "I don''t have time to stay and talk today, so I recommend you make yourself scarce."


    "What? Why?"


    "I''m going out," I said, thrusting my feet into the shoes.


    Reynard circled around me, agitated. "Out? As in, down into town? But where would you possibly need to go?"


    "Some dressmaker''s."


    Realization spread on his face. "But I came all the way here to discuss some important things with you, and you''re just going to, what, bail on me? You do know how difficult it is to break past those vigilant guards of yours, Your Highness."


    I adjusted my shoes by somewhat kicking my feet against the large, wooden closet and checked myself in the mirror one last time. "Yes I am aware. But it isn''t any business of mine." I glanced at him. "It wasn''t me who called you here, as far as I remember. You came here upon your own will and freedom. So it''s quite logical, don''t you think, that I might be doing something of my own in that while?"


    Ashamed, Reynard broke my stare and turned away from me. "So when will you be back?"


    Opening the door, I stopped to answer him. "Hmm," I said, thoughtfully. "Might take a few hours. In the meantime it''s best you either hide yourself or come back later. What is it going to be?" I waited patiently by the door to hear his response.


    Without answering me or even sparing a glance back at me, Reynard jumped through the window and disappeared. Down. What a reckless guy he was. My room was on the second floor yet he didn''t even care if he broke a leg or two.


    Sighing, I too disappeared through the door to attend to my own affairs.

 Chapter 17 - To Fleurs

    "Careful, Your Highness," Sir Gradral tightened his grip on my hand. "Mind your feet."


    Ugh. Carriages.


    Who thought it''d be so hard to ascend them? This specific one, was called a ''Four-Wheeled Landau''. And indeed quite a beautiful one it was, finessed from the inside with fine, black leather.


    My feet struggled to balance upon the raised carriage step as it was smooth and my shoes had thin soles. I grabbed onto Sir Gradral''s hand for dear life, embarrassed at my lack of ability in boarding a simple carriage.


    "Your Highness, would you like further assistance?"


    "Ahaha, no..." I laughed awkwardly, grabbing with my free hand on to the side of the leather door. "J-just give me a moment."


    With all the force my small body could exert, I heaved myself onto the carriage but almost fell back down on the pavement as the carriage gave a sudden, violent shake. I gave a sharp yelp of alarm as my knees met the floor.


    "No need to worry, Your Highness," Sir Gradral said assuringly, glancing at the front of the carriage. "It''s just the horses. They seem very disconcerted today. But pay no mind, for we are to leave promptly." He said something imperceptible by my ear to the coach up front and hopped into the carriage, seating himself right across from me.


    In a minute, the carriage started to quiver ever so slightly, and then it sprung into full action. It seemed that we were on our way.


    "Your feet are fine, I hope?"


    I looked up at Sir Gradral''s face nervously, didn''t quite catching what he said. "Pardon?"


    "Your feet," he repeated, glancing down at my feet which I''m sure he couldn''t see because they were hidden underneath a mass of fabric and tulle. "They didn''t get hurt, hopefully?"


    "Ah..." I blushed, for some reason. "They''re perfectly fine, thank you." Seonhee, you huge fool.


    After that, we rode in silence. The quietude was killing me, so I pretended to be interested in something outside the carriage window.


    "Lovely weather, isn''t it?" I asked, trying to diffuse the tension. Well I had no certain idea that the atmosphere was tense from Sir Gradral''s perspective. He seemed extremely tranquil, looking out the other window as well. He seemed to be focusing his gaze on something outside, hence it appeared that I had gone by unheard.


    "Sir Gradral!" I called again, this time a little louder.


    "Hm?" He suddenly jerked awake from his daze. "Yes, Your Highness?"


    I thought about asking him about the weather again, but I decided that it would be too lame. So instead I resolved to ask him about what he was looking out for so earnestly. "What is it that makes you look out so longingly?"


    "Ah." A small smile appeared on his face. "It was my home. I was looking to see if either my wife or my daughter were visible from the windows."


    "Your house? It is here?"


    "Yes, Your Highness. It is quite close to the palace."


    I suddenly remembered that Sir Gradral had said that he was from Eyress. So this district must be it. His hometown.


    "Your wife and daughter... I hope it wouldn''t offend you if I ask their names?" Ever since I came here, I had noticed that all these people had really strange names. Even the Princess herself. Back in my country, it was always something like Kim or Hwang or Cho. Not Cynthia, Haleth or even Elora. Quite strange, if I do say so myself.


    "Not at all," Sir Gradral said. "My wife''s name is Amice and my daughter''s is Rosa."


    "Rosa...that''s a very unique name," I said, thoughtfully. "What does it mean?"


    "Rose."


    "Ahaha...I knew that!" Oh Lord, let me just shrivel up and die. Let me disappear from this world. Please, just reduce me to nothingness.


    Sir Gradral went back to looking outside while I sat there, drenched in my own embarrassment. It seemed that I had nothing else to do, so I played with the ribbons on my bodice and looked at the houses we passed by. I wasn''t able to look at anything properly because the houses went past us in a blur. But suddenly, a sharp ray of light blinded my sight. "Agh!" I rubbed my eyes frantically.


    When I regained my vision, I saw Sir Gradral looking at me uneasily. "Are you alright, Your Highness?"


    "Yeah..." To be honest, my eyes still stung. "What did we just pass by?"


    "Pardon?"


    "What was that mighty ray of light?"


    For a second, Sir Gradral looked at me, puzzled by my inquiry. But then his brows eased up as he realized what I had been talking about. "You must mean the Priestess''s monument."


    "The what?" Had he just said the Priestess''s monument?


    "Great Priestess Grisha''s monument. The mirror she holds must''ve caught your eye."


    "Ah, okay." Holy crap. Was this monument he talked of of the same priestess who revealed the prophecy about me being sacrificed on my eighteenth birthday? I noted down a mental reminder in my head to go and break that shi*ty monument down some day. IF I only managed to survive long enough.


    The carriage suddenly halted to a stop, making me almost fall face-first on sir Gradral''s chest. "Easy," he said, cautiously, supporting me with his arms. "It appears that we are already here, Your Highness. Now do place your steps mindfully." Sir Gradral exited the carriage before me and waited by the step, his hand raised. He must mean for me to take it.


    I chuckled to myself as I stood up, half crouched and took a few small steps towards the door.


    "Take my hand, Your Highness," Sir Gradral said.


    His hand felt tough and calloused beneath my grip. I stepped down from the carriage, this time with much more ease. "Thank you." I let go off his hand and looked around at where we had stopped.


    I looked up and saw a large sign indicating the store we were at.


    ''Fleur''s Garments''. (Written in silver italics.)


    Oh. This was the place Christabel had previously mentioned. Had she said that they had the best dresses? Anyways, looking at the exterior, I have to say...I was stunned.


    This looked like one of those vintage shops people see in movies...the ones which look like only rich people could afford them. That if you go inside, the shopkeepers won''t let you get out without purchasing anything. Heck, they''d even grab onto your hair if you try to leave after trying on all their supposed in-fashion collection. Where the attendants go "Yes honey, you''re doing great!" or "Love, that dress looks so GORG on you! You should totally buy it." I hoped I didn''t look nervous while observing the beautiful dress display at the front and eyeing over the excessive flower arrangements at the entrance.


    "Ready?" I heard Sir Gradral ask from behind me.


    I let in a sharp inhale. "As ready as I''ll ever be."


    Sir Gradral moved ahead to open the door for me and we were both blinded by what was held for us beyond the entrance.


    ?


    Jewels. No, dresses. No, Jewels ON dresses. There was so much to take in.


    "Welcome, Your Highness!" said a disembodied voice which penetrated through the store. "We have been expecting you."


    I squinted toward the direction of the voice but saw nobody.


    "It is such an honor to meet you."


    Again, I turned my face in the direction of the voice which had now come from a different direction altogether. "Where are you?" I asked. "Sir Gradral where is this woman?"


    Sir Gradral seemed just as confused, looking around himself. "I-I am not sure."


    "I am here..." she spoke again. "I am everywhere...for it is my shop you have come to..." For some reason the atmosphere felt very eerie. I''m sure Sir Gradral felt it too because I felt him shiver beside me.


    I sighed. "We haven''t any time to waste. Sir Gradral, let us just visit another store if this woman is unwilling to show herself." Just when I turned around to leave, I heard a loud clatter behind me, as if someone had just shattered a few heavy pots.


    "Egad! Forgive me! O'' Your Highness, forgive me..." The woman jumped up from behind a counter by the far left wall. "Ahaha. Haha, I am sorry!" She cried out to me. "Come back...please..."


    What a strange person.


    She approached me, her hands brushing through her dark, brown hair which had been decorated with a large ornament-like accessory shaped like a peacock. Right in the middle. "I didn''t mean to offend you. Yes, yes. How may I assist you?"


    "... I need a dress," I said, studying this woman, who seemed to be the owner of this store. I can''t deny that I had expected someone a bit more...polished up. She was unique, I''d give her that. Her short-cut brown hair certainly did compliment her moustache hairs. Um...and her lipstick was - just radiant. Absolutely ablaze. And ooh, her eyes- justˇ­so bold! Lovely finish on the glittering eye shadow. Not to say, her dress was also very-um- flowery? Something my grandma would''ve absolutely loved!


    "You have come to the right place!" She laughed, her perfume getting to my brain. "My pleasure to be of your assistance. My name is Fleur Gratiana." She gave a rather unrefined half curtsy/half bow. Not that it mattered to me.


    "Show me some of your best dresses," I said, lifting my attention to the lovely displays of jeweled dresses that surrounded us. Most of them were like the usual dresses I wore at the palace, colorful and ruffly. Nothing that caught my eye, though. "I need something unique. I need people at the ceremony to look at me and instantly think ''Oh, that must be the princess!'' You know?"


    Fleur was nodding along my every word. "Yes...yes...I have just the dress for you. Follow me, if you please."


    Giving Sir Gradral an uncertain look, I followed Fleur all the way to the back of the store, followed closely by Sir Gradral.


    "No men, please," Fleur tried to sound polite but I could hear the scorn in her voice. "Surely you wouldn''t want to see this young woman dress up in front of you, would you?"


    "I prefer not," Sir Gradral stopped in his tracks and turned away. "I will be seated by the door, Your Highness, if you need me for anything."


    "Alright." Sir Gradral left me and Fleur alone in a moment.


    "Now!" Fleur clapped her hands. The sudden loud sound made me jump. "Let us try on some dresses! The dressing room is right by here." She pointed towards a wooden door. "You may go in and undress. I''ll go bring out the dresses. If you need me to assist you, just call out my name, okay?"


    Before I could even answer, Fleur steered me inside the dressing room and closed the door.


    Guess I had to take all of this off myself.

 Chapter 18 - A Spectacle, Indeed

    I didn''t feel so good.


    My arms were aching because of the constant struggle to take off my dress. The hook at the back wouldn''t budge a single inch no matter how hard I tried. If that wasn''t enough, I had somehow managed to get my braid stuck in them and I couldn''t even move my head. Everything hurt like hell. To think that women in the Victorian and medieval eras used to do this all the time.


    "F-Fleur!" I called, helpless. I was so done with the dresses here. Everyday, Martha helped dress me up, knowing that I can''t do it myself. And she''s damn right! I can''t. Each dress consists of a lot of layers. In the right order, we''ve got an undershirt, some white knickers, a corset which usually takes the life out of me, a busk, a corset cover, a petticoat, a bustle, another petticoat (this time with excessive ruffles), a blouse, something called a garniture a.k.a elaborately decorated skirt, and to top it all of...some heavy accessories.


    All of this usually takes a long time to put on and take off everyday. And it''s very much impossible to do it all on my own. So right now, I was attempting the impossible.


    "Ehegassa na Mortia! Your Highness!" Fleur appeared outside the door. "What''s happened?" I noticed that her voice had a very deep foreign accent. Meaning that she didn''t sound like she was around here. Most people at the palace had a very modulated and silvery accent. Though she was speaking the same language, she spoke in a very deep, singsong voice.


    "Help me take this off?" It was as if I had asked a question. I wasn''t even sure if she could do it because I had gotten my hair so badly tangled.


    "Egad! Princess..." Fleur opened the door without a single trace of hesitation and gasped when she saw me. "O'' Great Priestess, help us!" she cried, attempting to detangle my hair from the hooks. "CrasiSio! This is bad." Tell me about it.


    Fleur attempted to pull the hair out but her constant pulls made my scalp feel like a lawnmower. Electric pains shot up in my head.


    "Enough," I said, rubbing my scalp. "Just cut it."


    Fleur gasped so loud I wondered if Sir Gradral might come to check on us. Tears appeared in her eyes as she fell down, sprawled on the floor in a very brazen manner.


    "What will the people say!?" she sobbed dramatically. "That the notorious Fleur Gratiana cut the Crown Princess''s hair? Her rare, lilac hair!? Fa Muska! Nay, I cannot risk that. There has to be another way!"


    Still in pain, I weakly rolled my eyes at her.


    "I''m gonna cut it myself, then," I said, stepping carefully out of the dressing room and searching for something sharp. A scissor might help.


    "Ah NO, Your Highness!" She grabbed onto my ankle, startling me and almost toppling me over. "You mustn''t." She was still sobbing on the floor. If this was the right time, I would''ve certainly recommended her to join the theaters.


    "Let go of me," I said, trying to free my ankle. My eyes, though, were still searching around for a blade. "Fleur Gratiana, this is an ORDER!"


    "Noo...not an order..." She gradually let go of my ankle. I looked down at her, worried at the state of her sudden, unmoving body.


    "Hey," I said, uncertainly nudging her waist with my feet. "Hey, get up."


    At first there was no movement. Then her eyes flickered for a moment and her lips moved slowly, trying to form a word. "I can''t..." She croaked, her voice hoarse. "Tell my parents I loved them." Then suddenly she jerked awake, her eyes elsewhere, as if she was thinking about something. "But my Papa...I HAVEN''T A PAPA!" She cried out loud. So loud that I heard Sir Gradral''s feet thud across the floor as he approached us. With all the noise Fleur was making, I wouldn''t be surprised if the whole neighborhood came to check up on us as well.


    "MY PAPA! MY PAPA HAS GONE! GONE AHEAD AND LEFT ME BEHIND!" she wailed loudly, beating her hand on the dressing room door. "SO WHO WILL COME TO MY FUNERAL THEN? Mama is back in our country, SO WHAT ABOUT ME!? Princess..." She looked at me, water flowing out from her eyes and her nostrils. "Will you attend my funeral if I die today? Will you?"


    "G-Get up first," I said, looking up to see if Sir Gradral could help me sort this out. Whatever this was. But what do you know, he wasn''t going anywhere near Fleur. Instead he stood by the far wall looking upon this scene, flabbergasted. Honestly, I understood him. I wouldn''t come near someone else if they were in this state as well.


    So it meant I had to sort this mess out myself. I was really regretting not taking Christabel up on her offer for accompanying me.


    "Fleur," I said gently, squatting down. The movement pulled on my hair and a sudden surge of pain shot through my head. Bad, but not unbearable. "Fleur, of course I''ll come to your funeral. If you die, that is. But I''m sure you won''t die. Not today."


    Fleur looked up at my face and sniffed loudly, the noise of her snot wriggling up echoing through the store. "Really?" She wiped her tears in one swift motion of hand. "Am I really not going to die? Then what about the people who will come after me for harming your hair?"


    "There will be no such thing." I chuckled. "I''ll have you cut it ever so skillfully, so that no one notices." The truth was, I didn''t really care about my hair. When I had first come here, I was very shocked when I discovered the actual length of this Princess''s hair. It was very long, long enough to reach down to my knees. That kind of hair was a big no-no for me. Back in my world I always made sure to keep short, ruffly hair. Short like a badly cut bob. Smaller, even. I kept that length because it was just more convenient for me.


    When I moved to Incheon, I started to take up PE at school. What those short, half-an-hour lessons taught me was nothing compared to what I learned by observing the regular athletic people at the park back in Daegu. But still, I got to do some bicycling and track. In all of these activities, many realized that hair proved to be a great hindrance for them. But me and my short hair cruised through the lessons without meeting at the mouth even once. Perks of having short hair. I don''t know why boys got to keep all the best bits for themselves. If they can have short hair, why can''t I? So I didn''t understand when the other girls made fun of my hair. I mean, does hair have a gender? Not when I last checked, it didn''t.


    Anyways.


    Fleur got up after I assured her a couple more times that nothing bad would happen. Then she went back behind the counter up front and rummaged under it a long time. Meanwhile, I waited by the dressing room, leaning against the wall. Sir Gradral, after making sure there could be no other complication, went back to seat himself on the bench by the door.


    "Aha!" Fleur cried distantly. "Found it."


    Then she came back to the dressing room, a dagger in her hand.


    "Hey, hey, hey! Careful with that." I backed up, not trusting Fleur with a weapon. "H-hand it over..."


    "Nay, I always wanted to do this." She smiled. "Come here, Your Highness. Come and give me your hair..."


    I backed up till I was all the way inside the dressing room and my back hit the wall. Crap. I had nowhere else to go. "Fleur, hand me the knife. I''ll do it myself."


    "Nay..."


    "FLEUR! It''s an order!"


    "Aw nooo! Not again." And she reluctantly handed over the dagger.


    Sighing, I focused in the mirror, holding the braid in my hand in rather a very awkward manner. One, it''s because it was stuck and two, it hurt. I looked carefully at end of my braid, gritting my teeth as I bore through the pain, and I slashed off the hair in one swift blow.


    Fleur screamed.


    "What now?" I asked sharply, turning around.


    Tears appeared in her eyes once again as her hands went up to her mouth. "Y-you cut so much..." She sobbed. "Your hair...your lovely hair..."


    "I didn''t cut that much," I retorted, checking the damage. Yes, I actually had cut more than I had intended to. I didn''t even once think about how others would feel if their Princess suddenly cut her hair, but now that I let the facts sink in...maybe people will be very surprised. And not in a positive way, that is.


    I felt for my braid which had now almost opened up because the hair tie had cut up along with the hair. I brought the braid round to my front and brushed off all the access hair left. Hmm. I was inexperienced so the cut was quite choppy but i was used to it. Maybe I should get it properly cut after I get done with the dress. The ceremony wasn''t too far away after all.


    I checked in the mirror once more just to see the length of the hair now and if people at the palace will notice it. Yikes, the length had shortened up to my upper-thigh. Not such a big difference to me but for the others...wellˇ­


    "Fleur," I turned around suddenly, startling her. "It''s getting late. Just hurry up and show me the dress so I can approve it and leave."


    "B-but the fitting, Your Highness."


    "I''ll send over another dress from the palace when I get home so that you can change the fittings accordingly," I said as I tied my hair in an easy, messy updo so that it would catch nobody''s eyes and then I stepped out of the dressing room so I could give the blade back to its owner. Yeah, this route would be easy. I''ve got loads of dresses that fit me just well.


    "No, Your Highness, that won''t work," Fleur massaged her temples. "If you need to look good in the dress on the big day, you''ve got to try it on for me."


    For a few minutes both of us just stood there, staring at each other. It was as if whoever looks away first would have to give in to the other''s request. I stared hard into her eyes, trying my best not to blink. But Fleur stood there, calmly taking the dirt out from under her nails as her eyes looked into mine, unblinking. Deep...Into my soul.


    "Fine," I said, looking away. Can''t believe I gave up so soon. Maybe all the tears in Fleur''s eyes didn''t let her eyes dry out. What a crazy woman.


    Well. What''s done was done, no need to cry over spilled juice. Or milk...or whatever. I put my hands on my hips and stood in a wide stance. "So? Where''s my dress?"


    Fleur smirked, her mustache hair flawless. "Oh you wait, Babita.. I''ll show you."

 Chapter 19 - [Dress Successfully Acquired]

    I stormed out of the dressing room, humiliated.


    "Bravo!" Fleur clapped her hands, sitting down on a sofa she had specially asked Sir Gradral to move in front of the dressing room because apparently, he was ''a grand hunk of a man''. "Bravo! It is wonderful."


    "Fleur, please. I look awful."


    She nodded. "The dress is wonderful," she said, gesturing towards the skirt. "But not on you. Babita, it is not for you. Try on the other one."


    Sighing, I went back to the dressing room and slipped off the bodice after I had cautiously closed the door. This dress had actually been quite to my liking. It was yellow and had white and orange gems embedded on the front in a symmetrical pattern. The skirt was plain but layered with tulle and white, detailed lace. The dress itself was gorgeous but Fleur was right, it wasn''t for me. My purple hair didn''t go well along with the warm undertones of the dress and altogether, it was just a disaster.


    I hung the dress on the hook embedded to the white wall and took off another dress from the next hook. This one was even more stunning than the one before. It was blue, this time, giving away big ocean energy. Made with extreme care, the flowy net sleeves showed my bare, milky skin, giving my arms a lovely blue tint.


    I slipped on the light blue skirt which had been absolutely showered with rhinestones of various sizes, arranged exquisitely, like an abstract painting. The top was just as beautiful, with rhinestones on the chest and along the collar bone. Overall, the dress was absolutely breath-taking.


    I quickly got dressed, trying to avoid letting my escaping hair get caught up in the rhinestones. Even though I had tied my hair up, some sneaky strands weren''t afraid to escape the rest of the bunch.


    "I''m coming out!" I called to Fleur outside the door.


    Trying not to trip over my skirt, I opened the door and exhibited the dress for Fleur to see and judge in all its glory.


    "Good heavens, Your Highness!" Fleur gasped. "Might I say, you look ravishing. O'' Great Priestess, give me strength for my eyes can not bear much longer in the presence of such a lovely being." Fleur paused to give me another glance. "But it is much too lustrous, don''t you agree?"


    "Hmm..." I lifted the skirt with my hand, but the prickly rhinestones prevented me from doing it so with ease. "I suppose you''re right. But surely it is an eye-catcher, don''t you reckon? I''m really loving these sleeves as well. This style helps get much more air inside compared to the previous one. The yellow dress was quite stuffy."


    "Also, doesn''t it feel rather heavy?" Fleur asked, studying the dress. "Won''t it limit your movements while you''re dancing?"


    How very thoughtful of her. I hadn''t planned so far ahead, yet Fleur was four parallel universes ahead of me. Haha.


    "Fleur..." I said, trying to attempt a twirl. "Maybe we shouldn''t opt for this one as well, for you are correct. Comfort was always and will always be my top priority. What else do you have in store for me?"


    Fleur got up from the sofa, her thoughts elsewhere. "Maybe that one will be good..." She mumbled to herself. "Yes...that one..."


    She left me for a while, still mumbling to herself and came back carrying a large dress over her shoulder.


    "This one," she wheezed, "will be the winner." She handed it to me and then steered me inside the dressing room. "If you *wheeze* need any help *wheeze* do call me..."


    Confused, I closed the door. I hung the dress on the hook and stepped back to take a better look. My, this was a beauty.


    The dress Fleur had deemed a winner, was tinged a soft pink. The bodice was white and it was the skirt that was colored, yet the whole dress looked as if it had been suffused with a soft pink. Where the light hit the dress, the skirt shone like a rainbow. It was like those holographic sneakers I had seen often on my way to school in the display of the expensive shoe stores. I was so entranced with the shifting colors that I would move my head back and forth just to see the yellows change to greens. It was as if the shoes had no fixed color. I was surprised to see this same concept in such an old era.


    The bodice was mainly empty, but on the sides where one places their arms, was a pattern made from pink rhinestones that sort of spread out to the front. Above that, on the collar bone, was a lace covered in flowers. I touched to see if these were real flowers but was disappointed that these were just made from fabric.


    The flowers carried on towards the sleeves of the dress where they withered and were continued by soft pink fabric. I put on the dress, trying to figure out how the sleeves worked. Oh! These weren''t sleeves. It was just flowy fabric that would cover my arms, like a cape.


    I turned to look at myself in the wall mirror and was stunned to see the princess''s reflection looking ever so stunning. It was an absolute winner, just like Fleur had said. I looked so lovely, my hair complimenting the soft pink tones of the dress and the flowers on my collar bones making me look elegant and graceful. Exactly the definition of a princess.


    I jerked conscious, as if waking up from a sweet dream as Fleur''s high voice caught my ears. "Your Highness, come out now!" She laughed heartily. "I am so excited to see you all dressed up in my most fabulous creation."


    The door creaked open as it was pushed by me and I locked eyes with Fleur, who''s gaze widened by the minute,


    "O-Oh wow..." She muttered, looking me over, up and down. "This turned out much better than I expected. I thought your hair wouldn''t go well with the pink but my word, I am amazed." She jumped up from the sofa and approached me, her eyes moving speedily from the skirt to the top and back down again in a quest to find problems with the dress. "But there is still much we have to do. Oh yesˇ­" She was talking to herself again.


    "I think it looks fine like this. Can''t I just pay for it and leave?"


    Fleur looked up at my face as if I had gone crazy. "Of course not. The dress wasn''t made to fit your body, and it looks exactly so. The waist and chest needs to be tightened...so does the collar. Oh and the skirt would flow much better if it was shortened a few inches, don''t you agree? And these flowy things," she said, lifting the cape-like tulle. "It is far too long. Let us chop it as well. Oh, oh, oh, there''s so much to do!"


    I sighed which made Fleur look up at me once more, surprised. "What are you doing, Your Highness? Go change, hurry." And once again, I was pushed into the dressing room.


    ?


    "Ready to leave, Your Highness?" Sir Gradral asked, waiting for me by the door.


    "Just a second," I said. Fleur had assured me that as a special-grade dressmaker, she would definitely bring no harm to my dress. But all the same, I was a bit anxious. "Don''t cut it all up, you hear me?" I said to her as she rummaged behind the counter.


    "Yes, yes," she smiled, getting up and handing me a slip of paper. "Here, take this. I''ve written down all the details of the dress and of your visit today. Of course, I have a copy. If you need to get anything changed last minute, you can send an urgent messenger down to this address." She pointed to some writing on the paper in my hand. "Got that?"


    "Yeah..." I nodded. I turned to leave but then remembered something. "Hey, what about the cost?" Crap. I didn''t bring any money with me. Did princesses even carry money?


    "Oh, now why would you go and worry about that, Your Highness?" Fleur laughed as she picked up some boxes from the counter and put them on the floor. "It''s a delivery to the palace. It''s not like I can ask the Royal Family for payment directly. I''ll receive it by the end of the ceremony if all goes well, so you need not worry."


    Still skeptical, I looked over at Sir Gradral for confirmation and his reassuring nod finally made me surrender. "Alright. I''m really leaving now," I said, turning to the door. "Hopefully," I said as I looked back once more to look at Fleur, who was now busy rummaging through the boxes she had placed on the counter. "I''ll receive the dress soon?"


    "Oh, yes..." She glimpsed at me, not lifting her focus from the contents of the boxes.. "Let us all hope so."

 Chapter 20 - Good Luck

    Getting out of the boutique was a bit of a struggle of its own.


    "Sir Gradral, why won''t you open the door?" I asked, looking up at him. "What are we waiting for?"


    His hand which was still on the door handle, didn''t budge. "There seems to be...a complication."


    I furrowed my eyebrows, confused. "What''s happened now?"


    "It seems that the carriage from the palace has attracted quite a crowd outside. Many people are excited to see the princess so close to her -um-coming of age," he said. I noticed that Sir Gradral was clearly tense, a nerve on his forehead popping out.


    "It''s fine. I''ll just wait by the door. It''d be best if you go out alone and diffuse the crowd." I said, shoo''ing him out.


    My eyes still on him, I plopped myself down on the wooden bench. Sir Gradral sighed and pushed the door back slowly which let out a loud creak. In came a large gust of wind and dust which ruffled my hair. Along with the sound of wind came in a distant sound of cheering probably from the large crowd outside. The cheers soon died out and gradually transmuted to groans of explicit disappointment. The people must have been waiting for me, but after realizing that Sir Gradral was unaccompanied they must surely be disgruntled. I mean, I understood that. If I lived as a subject to such a bewitching princess who rarely seemed to exit the palace, I''d be lining up to take a look at her as well.


    Though I wasn''t sure if these people wanted to check out my beauty or notice any changes in me as I was so close to the Big Day. The Big Day, huh? Reynard''s words came to mind. Gosh, I haven''t thought about him for days, as if he completely escaped my mind for that period. If memory serves right, he told me that once I turn 17, I''ll receive some sort of divine powers that no one knows of. Meaning that I''ll be the first to uncover them. Of course, pondering upon this did make me giddy with excitement. Were these divine powers sort of like super powers, like in those modern time action movies? What kind of powers might they be? Because I''m totally up for it if it''s something like flying or the gift of invisibility. I''d totally love that.


    On the other hand, he said that I''ll be killed upon turning 18. Hell, if that''s how my end is going to be, I don''t want this divine power. O'' Great Priestess -or whatever- grant me the humble offering of a long, luxurious life. I was too unfortunate to have died previously as Seonhee Lim at such an early age. Come to think of it, how did I die? I realized that I hadn''t paid much mind to the matter but now that I had a chance to properly think about it, what happened back then? That headache wasn''t definitely enough to have me transmigrated to a whole different world. Was it something in the medicine the nurse gave me? It was the last thing I ever tasted from my world and I remember it tasting very bitter with a subtle hint of sourness. But what kind of god did that nurse have to be to come up with a medicine that could transmigrate a normal human like me to a freaking fictional world? Like... hello?


    Sighing, I crossed my leg over the other and fanned out my dress to avoid any creasing.


    "Where''s that man, Your Highness?" Fleur called out from behind the counter which startled me. She hadn''t spoken for so long that I hadn''t even noticed her disappearance. "It seems that I need a hand with something."


    "In need of some muscle?" I asked, half joking.


    "Well, yes," Fleur rose up, looking at me, her face colored with surprise. "Why has he gone and left you? Not that I mind your presence one bit."


    "Oh just..." I featured towards the door. "He went out to make way for me. Too many people outside."


    Realization appeared on her white, powdered face. "Ah, now I see." Aaand she went back down behind the counter. I was bored so I stood up and approached the said counter, my feet not making a sound as they hit against the blue-tiled floor.


    "What is it that you are doing?" I asked, leaning over the counter.


    Fleur who was in a crouched position and who had been rummaging through a box looked up at me, her moustache hair twitching. She was clearly startled. Before I could get a good look inside the box, she shut it close with both hands with commendable efficiency and wheezed as she stood up. "Yes?" She asked as she composed herself and brushed through her hair. I noticed that the large peacock ornament on her head was tilted ever so slightly. Oh, how I longed to touch it. "What is the matter?"


    "Mind showing me what''s in that box?" Clearly, I didn''t care for others'' boundaries. Seon, you fool.


    "Ah..." Fleur faltered as she looked down at the mentioned box and then back up at me again. "It''s nothing. Nothing to worry about, Babita. Would you mind trying this bracelet on for me?" She was definitely changing the subject. Guess I shouldn''t pry about it much further.


    "Sure."


    She handed me an absolutely beautiful chain bracelet. It seemed to have been linked at equal intervals with some sort of green stones cut in circular perfection. It reminded me of the wallpaper I had picked this morning; lovely and pleasing to the eye. If my guess was correct, these stones were either emerald or jade.


    "Jades, these are," Fleur sighed as she helped click the bracelet around my wrist. "And very precious these are, too. This bracelet alone could pay for one family''s expenses for couple years or more."


    "Then why give it to me?" I asked, closely inspecting the glossy gems.


    "Just because." She sighed again. I noticed that she sighed a lot. I wonder why? "They match the color of your eyes, so I thought it''ll suit you more than me. My boring ol'' brown eyes won''t bring out it''s proper beauty. And who knows," she paused to smile, "this might perhaps bring you good luck in your coming future."


    Luck, huh? I learned back in high school that Jade stones were often associated with good luck and happiness. Both of which I so desperately needed. I thanked Fleur for the generous gift. After that we both just awkwardly stood around, not having any other topic to speak of. I hoped that Sir Gradral would come back quickly.


    "So, um...Fleur," I began. "Why is your store so empty today? Didn''t you say you were a special-grade dressmaker?" The boutique should have been swarming with customers this close to the ceremony.


    "Oh," she said, looking rather dazed. "Of course I closed it down for your arrival. I made sure to get every customer out so that you could browse through the garments in peace. I''m sure that''s just customary behavior for the members of the Royal Family."


    "So you''re saying that someone else from the palace has also visited before me?" I hadn''t thought that this location would be a hotspot for the Royals.


    "Oh yes, certainly," she said, thinking. "Lady Virak came to get dresses for herself in person quite a lot of times. So did Lady Naradras."


    Who was that? I knew that Lady Virak was actually referring to Christabel, but who was this Lady Neredras she spoke of? It seemed that I couldn''t pin-point it.


    Fleur continued. "Lady Virak is a regular customer. In fact she got her dress for the ceremony from here a week or two ago."


    "Yeah?" I said, distracted by the large peacock up above her. Upon closer inspection, it appeared to be made of some sort of stone and fabric. The spreaded feathers of the peacock were embedded with visible, semi precious stones of colors varying from blue to green. Though it was too large to balance on one''s head, it looked very lovely. "What kind of dress did she choose for such a salient upcoming occasion?" According to my thinking, it''d probably be some cute, bubbly attire, with a lot of pink and blue. Like cotton candy.


    "I think it was a white dress," she said. "A very unusual choice indeed. But might I say, it looked superb on her. Absolutely enchanting."


    A white dress? It really was a strange choice.


    I looked around the boutique, hoping to see quite a large collection of white dresses but astonishingly, none but two or three caught my eye. Ah, so people here preferred multicolored, flamboyant garments. Interesting. That''s right, I hadn''t seen even a single, proper white dress since the day I arrived.


    "Your Highness!" Sir Gradral crashed open the door. Both-Fleur and I snapped our necks around to the door, startled to see Sir Gradral huffing and puffing, sweating profusely. "It''s clear now. Let us get going."


    "Sure..." What had happened out there? Sir Gradral looked so ragged, nothing like his usual, composed self.


    Anyways, I waved goodbye to Fleur and trailed off along with Sir Gradral into the bright, afternoon sun.

 Chapter 21 - A Boulder?

    According to my intuition, dress shopping wasn''t the only thing we had gone out for.


    "Where to next?" I asked Sir Gradral once we were safely seated inside the carriage again.


    "Miss Martha listed out a few other things we needed to get finalized for the ceremony. She even wrote me a list," he said, brandishing a piece of paper from his pocket and opening it up. "According to this," he said as he skimmed over the rather short list, "we still need to get you a pair of shoes fit for ball-dancing and some pieces of jewelry, if you like. Maybe a new necklace or some earrings or-"


    "Nah," I said, fanning my face with my hands as I looked outside the little window. This dress was killing me. "Let''s just go back. I''ll ask Martha to get me a pair before the ceremony, so you need not worry. And I''ve got enough jewelry back at the palace." Most of it I never wore anyway, so it was safe to say that the jewels were pretty much brand new. Martha had tried to cajole me into wearing at least a pair of studs on a daily basis, but this kind of stuff wasn''t for me. It made me feel like my ear lobes were stretching out like those monks who enlarge their ear lobes on purpose. I never understood why they did it, though.


    Sir Gradral sighed and slumped down on the leather seat. The carriage ride continued in silence. All was going well when suddenly we heard a loud crash and the carriage started wobbling, tilting suddenly to its side. Along with the creaking of the carriage, several distant cries of the horses were to be heard. The whole while, Sir Gradral and I looked at each other in other confusion as we held onto our seats, wondering what had happened now. A bit later, everything stopped altogether.


    "What was that?" I whispered hoarsely. "Oh God, don''t tell me we have an apocalypse on our hands..."


    "Your Highness," Sir Gradral chuckled. "As long as I''m here, you need not worry about such trivial matters. Do keep yourself seated, alright? I''ll go and check with the coachman." Even though his words did reassure me, I could still see that his expression was worried.


    Thudding his heavy feat along the carriage floor, he went ahead and opened the carriage door with one, swift movement but instead of the door swinging back, it stopped mid-way as if something or rather ''someone'' was blocking it. Then a loud ''thud'' and a sudden yelp. "Ow! Bloody he- Ah, Sire, it is I...Gomes."


    "Gomes," Sir Gradral said as he stood back. "Why did you stop the carriage? I hope everything is alright."


    From my seat (and my tilted vision), I saw that Gomes was sweating, his hands clasped around each other. "Oh Sire, where do I start?" Gomes sighed, looking to the left at something by the front of the carriage. "The front wheel hit a large boulder and has apparently broken down. Completely reduced to splinters." Well, I''m sure he was exaggerating.


    "A boulder, you say?" Sir Gradral asked, rubbing his stubble in puzzlement. "In the middle of the road? How very unusual. Do you have any idea how long it has been there?" He was getting out of the carriage now, probably to inspect the damage.


    Gomes stepped back to let Sir Gradral jump out. "No, Sire, for I do not pass by here very often."


    The whole time while Sir Gradral, my personal escort and Gomes, the coachman were discussing their further action, I felt very much excluded from the conversation as I knew from little to nothing about top-tier fancy carriages like these.


    Then it hit me. An idea.


    "Sir Gradral," I piped up. Both him and the coachmen turned to look at me. It seemed that they had been in the middle of an extremely hot-headed conversation and I had interrupted it. "May I propose a solution to this problem?"


    Sir Gradral looked- what?- surprised? Maybe because he didn''t expect the itty-bitty princess to deal with this boss-level situation befitting none but a man''s help. WELL, THE BLOODY NERVE! I was pretty mettlesome myself, good sir.


    Anyways, I continued before he could name his choice. "How about the coachman and I stay at the nearest inn for a while, y''know, because I''m not going to tolerate sitting sideways like this for long." Because my head was hurting. "And you could go and get a new wheel in the meantime. Get the carriage fixed for the journey back. How''s that sound?"


    As expected, Sir Gradral gave no immediate response whatsoever. Maybe he was so amazed by my idea that he was lost for words.


    "Your Highness," he said slowly, looking straight into my eyes. "You haven''t forgotten who you are, did you? You''re the princess. You cannot just walk into some public institution and expect not to get swarmed with crowds of hopeful civilians exactly like the one outside that boutique. You might get hurt!" Aw shucks, he was right.


    "Then what about I wear a cloak? Maybe a disguise?"


    "Your Highness-"


    "Come on. I''ll make sure no one notices my hair. And after all, nobody would be expecting to come across a princess in a small, local inn, would they? I''ll be fine." Jeez. This guy was hard to persuade.


    "There''s no way I can allow this," Sir Gradral muttered. "Your Highness, your arrival is the talk of town at the moment. Everybody''s buzzing to catch a glimpse of you. You have no idea what kind of people there are out there." I had to disagree with him there.


    I''m pretty sure I had a better idea about ''those'' types of people than he did. I''m from the modern world, after all. Violent drunkards and wretched rogues used to roam around the alleys all the time near our old apartment building. That area was especially notorious because of the amount of crimes happening near there. I remember how my two eldest sisters often used to mither about ''how unsafe their residence was'' or ''how hard it is to avoid the perverted drunk men on the way back from work each day.'' My mother, on the other hand, didn''t care.


    "You ungrateful brats!" she''d yell. "Can''t you see how hard I''m working to support all of your lazy, useless butts? What do you want me to do about all this?"


    "The hell? It was always me who won the bread for this family, not you," Sister 1 responded. "You haven''t worked a single day in your life, have you? You always leeched off of disgusting guys like dad and look where it has left us. To hell with you! The absolute nerve..." This was usually followed by a heated slapping session where most of the time I would get up and leave the apartment with Juwon by my side. Most of my life, I had to deal with all the abuse and drama followed by a lot of lies and bashing, to the point where it toughened up my heart.


    This same heart was then placed under Jieum''s wing where it learned to grow softer and acquired the need to store love and care for others and receive it back, likewise. A wild journey my life had definitely been.


    "Sir Gradral," I said, softly but firmly. "I am aware that you feel the need to protect me because the Emperor has entrusted you with such an important responsibility. But in your need to attend to your duty, do not forget that the princess that stands before you isn''t just a craven and weak-hearted bairn. Letting me have my way doesn''t mean you are abdicating this huge responsibility that you have at hand. I am not stupid enough to have proposed an idea that will be of inconvenience to everybody. This is the only fastest way to get back to the palace, whether you want to believe me or not. Think about it yourself."


    Stunned, Sir Gradral took in a minute or two to absorb my words. "U-Understood, Your Highness," he said eventually. "Though I wouldn''t feel comfortable with letting Gomes stay with you for he is inexperienced in the skill of protecting you."


    "Hey, you!" Gomes broke in but was quickly shushed by Sir Gradral.


    "I would only allow you out in public only if I''m there by your side, understood? Gomes can deal with the broken wheel. He knows more about wheels than I do, anyway."


    "That''s right," Gomes said. "I''ll lend you my cape, Your Highness. I bring one with me at all times for when the sun is ablaze." I thanked him and slumped back in my seat watching Gomes as he walked away, followed closely by Sir Gradral.


    My real purpose of wanting to go out in public wasn''t because I was tired of sitting that way or I was hot in my dress. Well, it was because I wanted to see how the Empire''s community functioned. I wanted to know what the people really ruminate about their ''beloved'' Princess? Was it really like how Reynard said, that these people were set on having me sacrificed after I reach adulthood? Or were there any locals who disbelieved in the prophecy? Could I perhaps find some allies among the Wisterians besides Reynard who could be willing to help me survive?


    Well, we''ll have to see about that, won''t we?

 Chapter 22 - The Longing Table

    The inn Sir Gradral chose for us to rest at was called ''The Longing Table''.


    Apparently, The Longing Table was a very cozy, well-known rest house-plus-bar among the locals of Eyress. "Very good duck they serve, Your Highness," was Sir Gradral''s explanation. I cared not for the duck. Actually, I haven''t ever tried duck, ever. And it''s not like I want to.


    Wrapped up in a cloak, I stepped out of the carriage and flinched when the sudden sun hit my face. I had walked none but two steps when I felt a gentle tap on my shoulder. "Now, don''t stray away from me, Your Highness," Sir Gradral said, fixing his own cape around his head like a cloak. "It''s very easy to get lost in the busy streets of Eyress after all. More so, for it is ''Market Day'' today; people would be bustling to get their goods at a cheaper rate."


    Market Day? That''s the first I ever heard of it after arriving here.


    "Grab onto my arm," he said, his eyes wearily raking through the crowds of people ahead. "And grab onto your hood as well." I placed one hand around Sir Gradral''s arm and the other one under my chin, clasping the loose cloak around my face. "Let''s go."


    And we were off.


    Sir Gradral kept glancing down at me, making sure I was safe and sound, as we swiftly walked forward. I bumped into strangers several times for I could not see them as my head was lowered down. Some of these people did apologize but most of them were very rude about it. "Watch where you''re goin'', you stinkin'' brat," they''d say, or "Ignorant kids, don''t have any respect for their elders." Many times I wished to raise my head and give them a taste of my amazing vocal skills but every time, Sir Gradral put a hand on my head as if to tell me to keep my head lowered. Then he''d ''excuse me, excuse me,'' his way out of the trouble, not changing his pace in the slightest.


    "How much further?" I asked him.


    "Just two more streets. It''s the closest inn we could''ve chosen, so bear with me, Your Highness."


    Gosh were my feet hurting. We walked for another three minutes when Sir Gradral stopped. I looked up to see that we''d arrived at a door. Looking further up, I saw the sign which relayed to me that we were at the inn. ''The Longing Table''. Strange name, but I hoped that their services were as commendable as Sir Gradral had made them out to be.


    "Let''s go in," Sir Gradral said, pushing open the door.


    Instantly, I was met by a waft of heat and an aroma of meat and wine.


    "Simon! Everybody, it''s Simon!" someone called cheerfully followed by lots of golly cheers.


    "Trayvil, old fellow! How are you doing? And the lot of you," Sir Gradral let go of the arm that I had been holding on to all this time and went ahead to greet his friends. "Rousskin, good to see you again! And you, Brecht. How''s your son?"


    It seemed that Sir Gradral was very popular.


    Not knowing what to do, I hung around the door not daring to make my presence acknowledged. These people would definitely want to know who I was and why I was with their friend. I can''t risk being caught now.


    "Simon, who''d ya bring with you today?" I perked up when I heard one of his friends ask. "Surely, that''s not Rosa in there, right? Or is it?"


    "Old man, your vision needs fixing. Of course that''s Rosa," said a younger man, laughing along with the others. "Simon wouldn''t bring any strange girl with him; he''s just not that type of guy." More laughter.


    "My vision''s just fine, you pea-brained twit," responded the old man sourly, smacking playfully on the younger man''s head. Then he turned to me again. "Rosa dear, why aren''t you coming forth? Is something the matter? You didn''t leave something outside, did ya?"


    I shuffled my feet, not knowing what to do. Right on cue, as if he understood my worry, Sir Gradral moved in front of me, covering my body with his. "Rosa''s a bit tired, fellows. I came here to book her a room," he said kindly, moving me along with his hands on my shoulders to guide me. "She''s actually a bit sick."


    "Whad''ya mean, sick?" called out someone from the group seated at the bar table.


    "Oh you know..." Sir Gradral looked for some words to get us out of this tricky situation, then he looked down at me, catching my eye. "She just caught the flu. You all are aware how Amice is already in a very bad, so catching the flu from Rosa would be really bad for her health.  I''ll just go get her rested."


    Most of his friends ''oh''d'' and ''ah''d'' as they gulped down Sir Gradral''s made up excuses. "Rosa, you should probably go take a doze. But you, Simon," said one of his friends, downing a beer in one before saying, "we aren''t letting you go back sober tonight."


    "Yeah," joined another man. "We rarely see you after you got that guard job up at the palace. Didn''t we all tell you not to apply? We knew it''d get too hectic for you."


    "Rest assured, gentlemen," Sir Gradral said as he smiled and walked by his companions, guiding me along. "It is far from easy, I do agree. But it''s good money and you know Amice needs it." All of their talk died down as they seemed to realize something. I wonder what Sir Gradral''s wife could be dealing with? Well, it shouldn''t concern me for it was not my place to prod about his personal life, but it did bother me so.


    "Sure thing, Simon. We get it," they said. "Anyways, you go get Rosa to bed; she needs the rest."


    Relieved, Sir Gradral and I moved along the wooden floor and through another door. Soon the buoyant chatters of the lively men were left far behind us.


    "This way, Your Highness," Sir Gradral said just loud enough for me to hear. We were now in a different hall. At the end of the room was what appeared to be a counter and a single old man sat behind it, smoking.


    "Simon," he said, perking up to see Sir Gradral approach him. "How long has it been? You rarely come here anymore. Well, how are you? How''re your kids?"


    "Grand, grand," Sir Gradral said, hinting that he wanted to dismiss this conversation. "Anyways Franke, old friendˇ­I would like to book a room."


    "Ah..." Franke exhaled a cloud of smoke. I tightened the cloak around my face because I hated the smell. This wasn''t the type of cigarettes people smoked back in my world. This one just smelled straight up disgusting. "Pains me to say, Simon, but we''re all booked for the night."


    "What?"


    "You heard me."


    Well, it didn''t sound that bad to me. I didn''t actually think we might have to stay here more than an hour or so. I mean, how long would it take to fix a wheel? But clearly, Sir Gradral wasn''t ready to let me sit down in public surrounded by other potentially-dangerous people.


    "Can''t you spare us a room? Not even a small one?"


    Another puff of smoke. "You heard what I said, big guy."


    Frustrated, Sir Gradral paced the floor. And I? I just stood there, by the counter like a helpless little girl who''d just had her plan backfired.


    "Sir Grad- uh- Father," I chirped up, keeping my voice low and my face still hidden. "I''ll be fine waiting here if you want to go check out another place." Lie. Of course I wasn''t fine. What if this old, smoke sucking dude comes up and tries to conversate with me? Besides, we weren''t alone in this room. There were almost 7 more people besides us. It looked to me like a living room and people were just sitting and drinking tea and having fun talking to each other. Some of them had even begun to notice us.


    "Your High- Rosa," Sir Gradral said, sighing. "How could you be so rash again? You know how stressed I am already, taking you out like this? Now you plan to stay behind, alone? No absolute way."


    I tried to say something again but shut up. I knew he was right, of course I did. It was just that I was so used to being left alone and doing reckless things that I didn''t understand how it would affect people in a completely different environment.


    Surrendering, I flopped down onto an upholstered sofa beside the wall, near the counter. I watched Sir Gradral as he paced the floor, stressing over the situation. Undeniably, I didn''t get what he was fretting over so much. I mean, can''t I wait here for a few minutes and then we could get going back? No?


    "Simon, who''s that?" Franke asked suddenly. Sir Gradral stopped in his tracks and I tightened the black cloak around me.


    "Why, that''s Rosa of course," Sir Gradral said nonchalantly. "Who else could it possibly be?" Sir Gradral was moving towards me now, his eyes transfixed on the old man.


    "Simon, you imprudent fool," sighed the old man, leaving behind a puff of smoke. "That''s the Princess, isn''t she? Since when did Rosa have lilac hair? I''m pretty sure it has always been black since her birth. Oh, I remember how cute of a baby she was, with her tiny tuft of black hair on the front, very adorable. And how she always called me ''dada''. Well, whatever that means. Hope she''s doing well now, bless her little soul," he muttered. "Anyways, Your Highness, what brings you here?"


    For a second, Sir Gradral and I were left frozen. Our bodies frozen in position yet our thoughts racing, thinking about our next move.


    "Listen to me, Franke," Sir Gradral said cautiously, in a low voice as he approached the old man''s desk. "I don''t know how you found out who she was, but if you dare raise your voice and let everyone know of Her Highness''s presence...I''ll have to use this sword on you, you see that?" He lifted his cape to unveil a long, covered sword tied to his waist.


    Franke was left stunned. Even I was shocked by this side of Sir Gradral. I didn''t know he had it in him. Then after a moment of silence, the old man burst out laughing.


    "Look at you," he said, laughing as he wiped off a tear. "The nerve. How dare you threaten me like that? Me, your old man?" Again, this was said playfully. "How lowly must you think of me to have threatened me into keeping my mouth shut? I''m really disappointed in you, Simon."


    "I-"


    "Naw!" he stopped him. "You know I wouldn''t disclose Her Highness''s location, I would never! I know how seriously you take this job of yours, Simon. And besides, what would I have to gain by letting people know of this? It would just be a disaster. Sudden stampedes of dirty shoes and people coming in uninvited, not even paying a single coin for their stay. I prefer it quiet here, mind you." He let out a long exhale. "You know how much it takes to keep this place running. Once, people actually cared about my inn, but it''s all about the friggin'' duck now."


    Sir Gradral stood there like a powerless child, taking in all of Franke''s words.. And I just sat there listening, not realizing that I wasn''t holding on to my hood anymore.

 Chapter 23 - In The Streets

    "Alright, in here," Franke said. "This is the best empty room I''ve got right now and it''s mine." He laughed, his voice hoarse and his teeth yellow under the dim light.


    "You won''t mind if Her Highness stays here for a while, would you? Could be possibly two hours."


    "Naw," Franke said. "Just don''t touch any of the drawers. And the closet, too. Wouldn''t want the daughter of our Emperor seeing my dirty laundry, heh heh."


    "Thanks, Franke. You can leave now."


    Glancing at the both of us one last time, Franke the innkeeper stepped out of his room and closed the door.


    "Haa..." I sighed, slumping down onto the wide bed. It creaked beneath my weight which made me instantly jump off it.


    "Don''t worry," Sir Gradral said, his eyes on me as he sat down on an armchair by the closet. "I''m sure it won''t break."


    "How''d you know?"


    He shrugged. "I''ve been here before. All the beds at Franke''s inn groan like an old hag. This one here is actually in a good condition, I must say. Typical of him to keep the best room for himself, ol'' Franke."


    Taking Sir Gradral for his word, I carefully sat down on the edge of Franke''s bed and bent down to take off my shoes.


    "Your Highness, let me-"


    "Stop," I interrupted him. "I can at least take off my shoes myself." Defeated, Sir Gradral slumped back down in the armchair.


    Millions of questions were running through my mind. I had so much I wanted to ask Sir Gradral about his life and his wife and his kids for I was naturally a curious person. Every single day I learnt something new about this man''s life. I had first thought that he''d just be a well-off family man with enough money to run the house, but then he''d go and say something totally unexpected which always surprised me and left me with a lot of questions. But I maintained my control and focused all my thoughts of untying these pesky walking shoes. "Sir Gradral," I said, when I had finally taken them off and now sat cross legged on the bed. "Can I ask you something?"


    "Of course."


    The one most important thing I wanted to know about him was his age. Some days he looked like a young, twenty-year old man and then on some days when he seemed tired, he''d look near thirty or even forty. The suspense was killing me but I didn''t know how to ask him this question without appearing weird or rather rude.


    "You seem to have a nice family, yes?" I cringed at my own question. Seon, wtf were you doing? Sighing, I looked over at the armchair and was surprised to see Sir Gradral smiling at himself, genuinely.


    "Yes, Your Highness. And I''m very proud of the fact," he said, looking out the window beside Franke''s bed.


    "Ahaha... good for you..." I just wanted to jump out of the same window Sir Gradral was looking out of. But I knew that before I could even get it opened, Sir Gradral would be by my side to stop me.


    Bored, I looked out of the window myself, observing the small, colorful dots of people walking by. One black-headed dot caught my eye. Hey...was that Reynard? The dot moved here and there for a while, and then turned up to look at me for a moment before continuing on to a nearby stall. Hey! It really was Reynard! I could''ve picked him out of an identity parade any day of the week. But what was he doing outside the inn?


    I jumped off the bed, by bare feet thudding on the ply-wooden floor. I pulled my hood back up and started to put my feet into my walking shoes again as swiftly as possible.


    "Your Highness, what happened?" Sir Gradral stood up, startling me. "Where are you going?"


    My neck sweating under the hood and my hair matted up to my skin, I huffed and puffed as I tried to get my feet in. I didn''t answer him. Well, not immediately anyway.


    "Your Highness," he called me, his expression worried. "Stop this. What are you doing?"


    Ah, thank God. My feet were finally in. I fixed my cloak around my shoulders and shifted towards the door, glancing out the window one last time to make sure that Reynard was still there. Yup, there it was, the tiny, black dot.


    "Sir Gradral," I said, opening the door. "I''ll be right back."


    I heard Sir Gradral call after me as I ran down the stairs, my tiny body providing me with agility and speed. I was halfway down when I started to hear Sir Reynard''s heavy footsteps thudding on the floor above me. Crap, I had to hurry. Thankfully, my years of experience on running away came very useful at times like this.


    I was out through the door in 2 minutes. I even made sure to clasp the hood around me so I wouldn''t make the same mistake as with Franke again. Sir Reynard''s distant cries were to be heard as I bolted out the main door, my eyes darting from face to face in search of Reynard''s.


    And there it was. A handsome, tan face among other white-washed ones.


    Of course he hadn''t spotted me yet. I wasn''t even sure if he knew I was here, a tiny cloaked figure amongst the crowds of Eyress on Market Day. I walked into the middle of the street, glancing back once to see if Sir Gradral was at me or not, but it seemed that I had been swayed along by the large crowd. Sir Gradral wouldn''t be finding me anytime soon. Then, I held my ground and focused back at Reynard. He had moved a few steps ahead, apparently, and was now checking out a pair of apples from the nearby stall, engaged in a very animated conversation with the stall keeper.


    Like a cat about to pounce on its prey, I approached Reynard who stood with his back turned to me. Just when I was about to poke him in the arms, he turned around suddenly, causing me to stumble backwards.


    "Ah! Hey... sorry. Are you alright," he said kindly, supporting me by the elbows. Hesitantly, I looked up at him with wide, green eyes which widened even more upon realizing that Reynard was looking down at them with his deep, see blue ones.


    "You-" he was about to shout, causing me to wince. But then he suddenly stopped while turning his head in both directions to see if anyone had noticed.


    "Hey!" I yelped as he pulled my hood down over my face to my chin and then pulled me along as he speed-walked through the crowd. I had a hard time keeping up with his pace and my wrist had started to hurt too. We walked till we reached a hidden alleyway where Reynard pulled me in. "Ha...really..." he sighed, letting go of my arm and leaning against the red-brick wall. I glanced up at him, rubbing my wrist to ease the pain.


    "What. Are. You. Doing?" He hissed through his teeth, his face up close to mine. "Why are you here?"


    "Why can''t I be?" I asked quietly, adjusting my cloak.


    Reynard paused to look at me and then scoffed incredulously, not leaning against the wall anymore. "You''re really beyond belief, you know that?" He sighed and turned to scan the area beyond the partially dark alley.


    I looked too but unable to see anything exceptional, I spoke, "I was wondering if-"


    He stopped me with a gesture of his hand. "Hey, are you here alone? Aren''t you supposed to come to town accompanied by a guard? I can''t see one nearby. Or is he perhaps hiding?" He chuckled.


    "That isn''t important," I said huffily. "I was wondering if...you know..."


    He tilted his head. "I know?"


    Annoyed, I looked for words to ask what I wanted. "I was wondering if you could show me this ''Pond of Divinity'' you mentioned once before." Reynard looked very surprised at this request.


    "That pond? Why would you like to go there?"


    "You told me that the next year, these people will sacrifice me there so-"


    "Your ''Father''," he corrected.


    "Ah, well, so it is. So I wanted to see what kind of place it is. I mean, isn''t it pretty understandable that I''d wanna see the place of my *ahem* demise? What kind of special pond must it be to have been featured in a prophecy 500 years ago? And I wanted to see if I felt any connection with that place."


    Reynard looked at me, puzzled. "But haven''t you ever been there before? It''s a pretty popular tourist spot of Eyress. I figured you''d probably have visited it once."


    Ahˇ­ I had no doubt, actually, that the previous Princess had actually visited the Pond before. But unfortunately, along with her body, I hadn''t gotten her memories as well. Well, tough luck.


    "I''ve forgotten," I put it out to him bluntly. "So take me there."


    After a while of looking at me with slight abhorrence, Reynard raked his hand through his hair (which I noticed were styled much neatly today, rather than the usual, messy look they have to them when he comes to visit me.) "Alright, fine," he said finally, breaking eye contact. "But only for a little while. Because unlike you, I am an adult and I''ve got a lot of duties on hand right now."


    "Of course, Mister Big Guy," I said, rolling my eyes.. "Now lead the way."

 Chapter 24 - The Pond

    The Pond of Divinity.


    What a strange name for a mere pond, don''t you think? I thought so, too.


    "This...this is the pond?" I asked incredulously.


    With hands over his hips as he gazed with awe at the pond, Reynard said, "Yup!"


    "It''s more like a lake! Why isn''t it called a lake?"


    "''Lake of Divinity'' doesn''t have that enchanted sound to it, don''t you agree? But yes, I don''t know why it''s called a pond either. Maybe God prefers ponds."


    As Reynard continued to rant on about the pond and it''s supposedly ''significant'' history, I continued to gaze upon this wonder. In modern days, we''d probably call it a small lake. It was a man-made lake filled with glittering water underneath the afternoon sun. The waist-high concrete border around it was covered over by white, marble slabs that gave the whole place almost a regal look. It was a place crowded by many others. Some people were accompanied by their children, sitting on the concrete boundary of the pond and splashing water on their faces.


    "People believe that this divine water, if used to clean yourself, would purify you of all that is unclean. I''ve been here several times and more often than never, I''ve seen many who think not of their dignity and take a straight dive in," I heard Reynard tell me.


    "Wait, hold up," I said. "How often is this pond drained out and refilled?"


    Reynard had a little think. "I''ve never seen it get cleaned, honestly. But you see those workers over there?" He pointed over to a couple of men in strange blue attire. "They occasionally sweep up the area around the spot. Tourists tend to throw away their rubbish right by the boundary or the walls. One time I even..." And he continued to rant on.


    So he meant to say that the water has never been changed? Since back from 500 years ago? What???


    "Reynard...do these people want me- their princess- to die in a dirty pond?"


    "What was that?" he asked, pausing mid-rant.


    "UnBELIEVABLE." Reynard looked at me, puzzled and then shrugged before resuming his history lesson. I swerved my eyes towards the pond again. Something weird caught my eye.


    "Hey, what''s that thing?" I asked Reynard, not taking my eyes off it. Once again, Reynard stopped whatever he was saying and turned to where I was pointing.


    "Ah...that." He seemed uncomfortable. "That''s just a stone slab, why bother about it?"


    "No, but why is it in the middle of the pond?" There was a large stone slab about the size of a very large bed in the very middle of the circular pond. It was a rather strange position for a stone platform, of course. It was as if it was deliberately put right there.


    "Not many people are aware," Reynard sighed, "but I guess you could call it an altarˇ­?"


    An altar?


    I snapped my head around to look at Reynard who was already looking at me. I pointed at myself, not expecting anything but was mortified when Reynard nodded in confirmation.


    "WHAT?" I yelled loudly.


    "H-Hey, shut up!" Reynard roughly pulled my hood down to my chin, and looked around at people who were staring at us and mumbled awkward apologies. "Hey, what gives? Stop yelling if you don''t want to get caught by these people."


    "B-But," I lifted my hood a little, "that''s an altar for me!?"


    He furrowed his eyebrows as he sat himself on the marble boundary. "Princess," he said, leaning back towards the water. "What did you expect? A little castle for you? That''s how good it''s gonna get, Your Highness. Not every rich person dies a glamorous death."


    I went over and sat beside Reynard, letting my hand lightly graze over the pond water. It was cold. But it wasn''t nothing I couldn''t handle. Back in our old apartment, we were lucky if we even got to shower once a week. And even if we got that opportunity, we were never able to afford hot water.


    "So," I said, looking at my reflection in the water, "this is the place, huh?"


    "Yup," Reynard said, turning to peer at his own reflection.


    "Can you believe it?" I laughed sadly. "If you hadn''t come into my life, I''d be getting drowned here this time around next year. God really does work in mysterious ways, huh."


    Reynard smiled sadly, looking into the water. "He sure does."


    "Anyways!" I said, perking up. "What was that important thing you wanted to tell me back at the palace before I left?"


    "Oh! That," he looked at me. "I figured out a plan to help you get out of this mess."


    "Do tell."


    "It''s in 3 days, right? The ceremony?"


    "Yes."


    "If I''m right, then you''ll awaken your powers around nighttime, say 8 or 9."


    Puzzled, I looked at him doubtfully. "How are you so sure about that?"


    "I just am, okay?" he said as he crossed his arms. "So hear me out. At night, when people will be crowded around you to see your powers blossom, whatever they may be, you''ll escape, you get that?"


    "I''ll escape? What do you mean by that? You know I can''t," I blurted. "I''m not a risky fool like you. What if the guards catch me?"


    "R-Risky what?"


    "And anyways," I continued, "the dress I got today could never be utilized for running. It''s this large, poofy thing. Definitely not a runner''s dress. And besides, where will I go? The gardens? Guards stand watch there 24/7."


    "Your Highness, listen to me-"


    "YOU-DAUGHTER!" We both heard a distant shout.


    "Who''s thatˇ­?" Reynard whispered as he narrowed his eyes to see into the distance. "Is that-"


    "D-Daughter...!" The man finally came nearer enough for us to see him properly. "Finally *huff* caught you." The man kneeled over in an attempt to catch his breath. Reynard and I jumped off of the marble boundary and exchanged uncertain glances. "Caught you," the man wheezed again and suddenly grabbed onto my cloak, startling me.


    "Hey!" Reynard jumped in and tried to separate the stranger''s hand. "Get your hands off her, you old geezer!"


    That was when this ''Old Geezer'' lifted his face, which startled both of us even more so.


    "Your Highness," Sir Gradral muttered out, attempting to stand in an upright position. "Why would you run off like that? Do you know how worried I-" He paused his heartfelt reunion speech when he caught sight of Reynard. "This..."


    "FATHER!?" Reynard yelped. "Father, what are you doing here?"


    "He''s your father?" I asked, shocked.


    "Ahh *wheeze* get outta the way, you freaking kid," Sir Gradral said as he flailed his arms around and went on over to the pond to rinse his face. "Do you know..." he said finally, his face dripping with water, "what a wild goose chase you''ve led me on?"


    I mumbled an apology.


    "Anyways," Sir Gradral sighed. "Reyn, son, what are ya doing out here? And with the princess, no less. Do you two know each other?"


    "Ah-" Reynard looked at me. "Your Highness, how do we know each other?"


    "I have no idea, Reynard. How DO we know each other?"


    "Kids..." Sir Gradral narrowed his eyes on us. "Well, Your Highness, don''t you ever attempt anything as such ever again. What if you got caught? What if you got lost, even? Who would''ve come to your aid then? I hope the Emperor never receives a word of this or else I''ll get sacked and you," he looked at me, "will perhaps get grounded."


    "But Father," Reynard broke in, "how did you know the princess was here?"


    "Well I looked for her, of course," he scoffed and then slapped Reynard on the head. "The same way you should do for your brain. Why''d you run away with the princess? Do you know how much trouble you''d be in if someone recognized her?"


    Amidst all this father-son interaction, I stood there like an outcast. As a kid who''d never had a father (the Emperor doesn''t count), I was fascinated by this scene. Even though Sir Gradral had hit him, Reynard seemed fine and was actually laughing lightheartedly at his father''s supposedly useless need to worry.


    What was this feeling? Was this... jealousy? Is that it? Was I jealous of Reynard? Perhaps or maybe not. I didn''t know anymore.


    "Sir Gradral," I asked him in a monotone. "Has Gomes fixed the carriage wheel?"


    "Wha- oh..." he replied, processing my question. "I met him on the way by the wheel maker. Said he''s almost wrapped up. Should be done by now. Are you set to leave?"


    "Yeah..." I clinched the hood around my head. "Let''s get out of here."


    "Ho-okay." Sir Gradral stood up to accompany me but turned around once more to his son and lowered his voice to say, "Get your a** home, you hear me? I''ll deal with you tonight, you undisciplined brat."


    Reynard laughed. "Of course, Father. Take good care of the princess and oh- Your Highness?" he said to me. "We''ll surely talk later. Have a safe trip!" With that, he turned around on his heels and left the same way we had come. Like a hero turning away after dealing with the criminal at the scene of crime. Or something.


    "Let us leave as well," Sir Gradral said with a sweep of his cape.

 Chapter 25 - A New Arrival

    [Ladies Sunroom]


    "Haven''t you all noticed?"


    Everyone turned their heads around to the person who had spoken up amidst the serene quietude, which was apparently Lorelei.


    "Noticed what?" Yesenia asked, who was laying on a velvet chaise lounge near the sunlit windows.


    "The Princess''s drastic changes in her recent behavior. It''s all so strange," Lorelei continued as she browsed through a book. "Do you all remember how she used to be a month or so ago?"


    "Oh right, I remember," chirped Christabel, removing her teacup from her lips. She beckoned a maid to come forward and refill it for her. "Didn''t she used to be rather..."


    "Reticent? I thought so too," Lorelei said. "She never used to come up to us or start a conversation with us until very recently. She always kept to herself."


    "Right. And whenever we attempted to strike up a light conversation with us, she''d just politely edge away from us," said Christabel, sipping onto her tea and then smacking her lips together with displeasure. "Janice, mix a cube of sugar in here, will you?" she whispered to the maid, handing her the teacup and turning back to address Lorelei. "And I''ve noticed how strange it is too. You have no idea how pleasantly surprised I was when she talked back at breakfast the other day. I wanted to grin till my cheeks fell off. And then the other day I requested her to call me Christa and she simply agreed."


    "Rightˇ­? And when she followed us even after breakfast..."


    "Haha, it was so cute."


    "Girls, quit yapping," Yesenia snapped. "I''m trying to take a little doze here."


    For a moment, both Christabel and Lorelei glared furtively at Yesenia in union.


    "Why won''t she nap in her own room? We come here to chat like civil people, and she won''t even let us do that," hissed Christabel to Lorelei. "We have things to discuss, for God''s sake."


    "Oh, right," Lorelei suddenly remembered something. "Did you wrap ''it'' up?"


    Christabel looked blankly at Lorelei for a while before jerking straight up as if understanding what she meant. "Oh, that. Yeah...I''m done with that. What about you?"


    "Done."


    "Good."


    "...."


    "Hey, have you seen Elora?"


    "Now that you mention it..." Lorelei looked around the sunroom. Apart from a dozing Yesenia and Enya who was in the corner by the window, pretty drowsy herself, they were the only ones there. "I haven''t seen her all day. Is she sick, perhaps?"


    Christabel chuckled. "I''d be glad if she was. She''s such a pain in the neck, after all. Do you remember how she spoke to Odette that day? Left me absolutely appalled."


    "Also me," Lorelei sighed and shut her book. "Speaking of her, why do you reckon His Majesty summoned Odette earlier today? He never really pays much attention to her."


    "I know, right? I''ve never seen His Majesty approach her chambers ever."


    "Well, it isn''t something we should bother about much, anyways. Odette''s smart enough to deal with her own circumstances. Even the Emperor once commended her on her wits."


    "Mmm." Christabel gulped down the last remaining sip of tea. "Well, I''ll be off, then."


    "What for?" Lorelei''s gaze followed Christabel as she shifted towards the door, a guard already waiting to accompany her.


    "Haven''t you heard?" Christabel asked as she took her shawl from the guard and wrapped it around her shoulders. "We''ve got a new mistress coming in soon today."


    ?


    "Her Highness," Sir Gradral softly touched my arm. "We''re here."


    I rubbed my eyes. I must''ve fallen asleep on the ride back home. I raked  through my hair self consciously before cautiously stepping out of the imperial carriage. Ha! It seemed that I had gotten better at this whole ''carriage'' thing.


    Making sure not to wake myself up fully, I drowsily followed Sir Gradral back into the palace. I was hoping that I could just run back to my room and fall asleep on my grand, plush bed. But it seemed that I had other matters to attend to for Martha was waiting for me by the East wing entrance.


    "Your Highness," she said and then dropped down into a curtsy. "Welcome back."


    "Erm...rise. Yes, thank you," I said awkwardly. "Martha, could you prepare my bed? I really need a na-"


    "Your Highness," she said as she nodded to Sir Gradral so he could leave. "There''s so much to do before bedtime."


    "Martha, it''s literally dusk. Look, you can''t even see the sun. Please, I can''t work anymore because I am very tired. Emphasis on the ''very''."


    The whole episode at Eyress had left me absolutely begging for rest. I hadn''t run so much in my life. Well, first life, to be specific.


    "No excuses, Your Highness," Martha said sternly. "I get my orders from much higher ups. Because you went to town this afternoon, you sadly missed your scheduled class with Sir Andre. So I was thinking you could catch up on that. But apparently, His Majesty has suddenly summoned you."


    "What is it now?" I asked wearily.


    Martha shook her head. "I wasn''t told. Now do come on, Your Highness, follow me if you please."


    I trailed off after Martha, the folds of my dress clenched in my hands. I wonder what the Emperor had summoned me for. Was it something important? It couldn''t be. The last time he did so, it was for breakfast. Ah, the thought of breakfast reminded me that I hadn''t eaten anything since this morning. Now my stomach was all grumbling.


    "Martha," I pulled at Martha''s skirt peevishly. "Could I get a bite before turning up to my Father? I''m starving."


    "When was the last time you ate, Your Highness?"


    "Breakfast."


    Martha sighed very heavily before changing her route. "Stay right there. I''ll get you something to eat from the kitchen. Then we can proceed to the Emperor together. Alright?"


    I nodded and then hung around the hall in wait for Martha to return with the goods. Since I still had no idea where my chambers were, I couldn''t possibly bail on her and go to sleep. So it was the best option to lay in wait.


    At long last, Martha arrived with a tray of food.


    "Eat quickly, for we are already late," she urged as I sat myself on an upholstered sofa nearby.


    I glanced at my food like a predator does to its prey. A chunk of roasted meat, two slices of freshly baked focaccia, cheese and one large choux pastry puff. With a glass of some freshly squeezed orange juice along the side, it was a pretty decent meal.


    Finally satisfied, I set down my tray and followed Martha to the throne hall. The throne hall was probably my most favorite room in the whole palace. With three thrones (two large ones for the Emperor and the Empress, and a smaller one for the Princess besides) and excessive decorations of gold and silk, the room was easily the most expensive one.


    "You may proceed further alone," Martha whispered to me by the entrance. "I''ll wait for your return nearby. Good luck."


    With that I was let into the throne hall, the sudden glints of gold and the grand chandelier above causing me to narrow my eyes. I curtseyed before the Emperor blindly. When my sight finally adjusted to the well-lit room, I was surprised to see that the Emperor and I weren''t unaccompanied.


    "My daughter!" the Emperor''s loud voice echoed through the room. "Do come a bit forward. Your little trip went well, I hope?"


    "Yes, Father," I said nervously, wringing my hands behind my back. I never knew what this old man would bring up next. Judging by his appearance and his recent behavior, he was a rather jolly guy. But still, Reynard''s comment lingered at the back of my brain. "Stay away from the Emperor," he had said. I knew he had meant well but I just couldn''t avoid his existence every day, now could I?


    "My daughter, you are well, yes?" the Emperor said, leaning back on his throne, looking upon my tiny figure with a smile. A smile which I knew not the meaning of.


    I replied monotonously, "Yes, Father."


    "Grand," he laughed. "Now do raise your gaze and take a look at this magnificent person I want you to meet."


    Hesitantly, I looked up. I was confused because I couldn''t see anybody at first except for Christabel and Odette standing by the wall and a dozen guards lined perfectly along both sides. Then from the corner of my eye I saw a face. It was a woman. A very, very beautiful woman who looked not much older than me. The reason I hadn''t spotted her at first was because her fiery red hair had conflated along with the tapestry at the back. Her eyes were like ice, a sharp blue to balance out the flames in her hair.


    "My darling," the Emperor spoke to her, his voice dripping honey. "Introduce yourself."


    Just then, the woman''s expressionless face molded into the most heavenly smile, the type of smile that could kill someone.


    "Your Highness, so very pleasant to finally meet you" she said with a voice as that of an angel and bobbed into a graceful curtsy. "I am Yvonne Sumner of New Avia, Clatoise and newly appointed mistress to His Majesty. I hope I get along well with you for we are to reside in the same palace from here on forth."


    What? What, why?


    I turned my head towards the Emperor in hopes of an explanation but I was surprised to see him smiling at her. It''s not like I really cared who she was or what she was doing here. As long as she doesn''t hinder my plans to escape death, I was okay with her. But I was uneasy with the way she had smiled through her lips while her eyes gave a totally different expression. It was all very fishy. Why had the Emperor chosen another Mistress so close to the Ceremony? But wait, she had said that she was from Clatoise. Was this anything to do with the mysterious trade agreement that Christabel had once mentioned?


    Anyways, I bent down in a slight curtsy and rose to needlessly introduce myself as well. "Princess Cynthia..." I paused and winced. I didn''t know what this princess''s full name was! "...of Wisteria."


    I looked up to note everyone''s reaction. It seemed that Christabel and Odette weren''t letting anything show through with their commendable poker faces. Yvonne just kept smiling.


    "Very good." The Emperor seemed satisfied. "Now, these wonderful women will show you to your chambers. Ask them for help if you get lost inside the palace," he said, addressing Yvonne as he pointed towards Christabel and Odette who were apparently the ''wonderful women''. "You may leave now." He slumped down on the throne and whispered something to a guard by the throne.


    Not laboring in this situation and also because I was exhausted, I went straight back to my room without waiting to catch up with anyone and had a good night''s rest.


    Further formalities could wait.

 Chapter 26 - Under The Mask

    I had another nightmare that night.


    I dreamt that I was all alone in this strange world, with no one to accompany me. I walked around like a lost little child, the darkness slowing me down. It was as if someone had applied a vignette filter on a picture, and I was the sole cynosure. I staggered around in the dimly-lit palace corridors till I reached the two large wooden doors. In a state of desperation, I pushed them open, only to be received by more darkness and eerie stillness. No wind, no rustling of leaves, no clouds in the sky. Just...darkness.


    With my chest tightened and my breath clenched, I ran outside, yelling into the distance, hoping someone would hear my cries. But of course, how would that be possible if I was all alone? I took several steps before something banged against my feet. I hobbled around, my hands around my toes to ease the pain. I looked down at what had collided against me and was puzzled to see a stone slab. Shockingly, this stone slab was just the size of a large bed. I stepped on it for I had no other option because the darkness had started to gather around my feet. Like slow-spreading fog.


    All of a sudden, as if triggered by my weight, the stone slab started to sway. Sway like a raft on a vast pool of water. Then as if on cue, the ground around the stone slab started to become more malleable. It melted and bubbled till it looked like still, greying water.


    The darkness started to close in. Panicked, I crawled to the edge of the stone slab and touched once what was ground only to be met by Adam''s ale. I cried into the distance once more, the echoes of my voice not slowing me down. Then suddenly, the stone slab toppled over and I plunged into the deep pool of water. Seized by a strong will to survive, I gasped and spluttered as my hands tried to reach for the stone slab but to no avail. Water invaded my lungs, until finally I couldn''t remain conscious and I let myself fall into the darkness. Deeper...deeperˇ­.


    And once again, I jerked awake.


    I was sweating profusely, my silk nightgown matted to my back. Carefully, I stepped out of my bed and paced the floor as I flapped my nightgown up and down to dry it out a bit.


    "I''ve a thing for nightmares, don''t I?" I muttered sourly as I looked out of the large, glass window. The moon shone down on me with arrant brightness, the light causing a window-like pattern on the red-carpet floor. In a haze, I thought, ''I miss my purple carpetˇ­''


    After a few more minutes of walking around, I jumped back into the bed when I had made sure that I''d finally calmed down.


    My body was resting yet my thoughts were racing.


    The Ceremony was in two days. Two days. In two days I''ll be dancing in front of a large crowd of clueless nobles who''d have no idea I wasn''t who I appeared to be. I''d wear the wonderful dress Fleur made. I''d wear the lovely shoes that Martha would''ve chosen for me. I''d get all made-up by Hetty and Marilynne who were miracle-workers in the field. I''d appear in the most dramatic of entrances in the ballroom I helped prepare. Then I''d have the first dance with...whoever. Then...then what?


    Would I finally get these divine powers Reynard''s been warning me about? He said the awakening would probably happen at nighttime. Around 8 or 9, he had said. But then again I wasn''t so sure about believing him. But then again, I had no other option.


    Reynard said that I would run away before my powers blossomed. How stupid was he? Had he no idea that running away was much harder a task when you are a princess in itty-bitty heels surrounded by lots of people. Perhaps even trained chasers. Well, I''m just saying.


    Running away. It was a day-to-day task for me while back in Daegu. But back then, I wasn''t always wearing a long dress and fancy heels. Come to think of it, it couldn''t be that hard of a task to slip away amidst the crowds of fancy dresses. But dresses weren''t the only thing I''d got going on for me. My hair was a problem too. I had come to discover that my hair glowed under bright lights, like Rapunzel''s. And the ballroom would most definitely be dazzling on the big day, lit by dozens of chandeliers and bright table-top candles. If that was the case, then all eyes would be on me. Escaping then would be a trickier task.


    I was immersed in my own thoughts when I heard a light tap on my door.


    "Yes?" I said, thinking my guard must want something.


    "Your Highness," said a soft, female voice. "Permission to come in?"


    I sat up straight in my bed, alert. This was definitely not my guard. So who was it so late at night? Aren''t the princess''s chambers off-limit when she was supposedly fast asleep? Who was this person, bold enough to ignore palace rules?


    "Name yourself," I said, my voice breaking in the middle. Maybe because it was nighttime but the atmosphere had become rather tense.


    After a long pause, the person outside the door finally spoke once more. "It is I, Yvonne Sumner," she said with a soft exhale. "Permission to enter?"


    A side of me was telling me to say no, that it''d be dangerous to let this strange woman who I''d met only once today enter my room. But the other side of me was telling me to let her in, that maybe it''s something important she''s come to relay.


    "Fine, come on in." I sighed, the latter side finally overpowering the other.


    The door creaked feebly as it was pushed to the side, and lo and behold, Yvonne stood in the doorway, her hair imitating flames as they were lit from the back. Her face wasn''t quite visible but under my limited vision due to the darkness of the night, I could see that she was still fully clothed in the dress she had worn earlier with the Emperor. Had she not resolved to take a nap yet? What was she doing here?


    "What is the matter?" I asked her cautiously as I stepped into my slippers, looking past the door to see if my guard was still there. He wasn''t.


    "I have come to discuss something very important with you," she said calmly and slightly breathily. "Will you spare some of your precious time for me?"


    Again, one side of me was telling me to refuse and just go back to sleep but the way she talked was so utterly tranquilizing and pleasant that I couldn''t help giving in. In a state as that of a person hypnotized, I nodded my head and Yvonne smiled. She gracefully stepped into my room and closed the door behind, turning to face me.


    "Take a seat," I said as I gestured to my bed. Why, why, why was I doing this?


    Gratefully, she walked over to my bed and with a soft turn of her leg, she sat down. Not once did her gaze leave mine. I ,too, sat down on my bed, inching as far away from her as I could.


    "Your Highness," she said again, her blue eyes frozen to mine. "You are aware that I''m from Clatoise, yes?"


    "Yes..." I responded, my voice strangely low and drawly.


    "And you are aware why I''m here?"


    "Yes..." I answered affirmatively again. But, hold on. Did I really know the purpose of her arrival? I think not. "No..." I changed my response.


    "Hmm..." She leaned back on my bed as she hummed to herself and smiled, looking like a goddess as the moon''s light struck her porcelain-like face.


    Once, I had thought that Elora was the most beautiful girl I had ever come across. But this woman who sat before me was a totally different type of beautiful. If Elora was a fairy then Yvonne was the goddess. Yvonne noticed me staring at her and let out a lovely chuckle.


    "Am I that fascinating to look at?" she asked as she tucked a stray strand of red hair behind her ear.


    I nodded by no means of my own control.


    "Well, funny that," she said as she smiled at me again, causing my heart to skip a beat.


    For a minute the both of us sat on my bed in the breathless silence before Yvonne gave a sharp inhale.


    "Right! I forgot what I was here for," she muttered to herself before she turned back to me. "Your Highness, are you perhaps aware of the prophecy?"


    This caused me to jerk out of my daze-like state. I looked at her speculatively before I concluded that she hadn''t any ill intentions. "...Yesˇ­?" I answered hesitantly.


    Her eyes widened with disbelief. "Really?"


    "Erm...sure."


    "How very strange," she muttered mostly to herself and let out an airy laugh. "So strange indeed. Well, it''s good, isn''t it? I won''t have to go through it, then."


    I looked on as she muttered to herself for a few more minutes before she snapped her neck back up to face me, which startled me so.


    "Right. So what do you know?" she asked, the airiness of her voice decreasing greatly. "What do you know of this prophecy?"


    As if I had no control over my speech, I told her every single thing Reynard had been so generous to tell me about. When I was finished, she sat back in amazement, staring off into the dark distance.


    "How very peculiar," she muttered, a hint of humor in her voice. She raked a gentle hand through her hair and then focused her eyes back on mine again. "Who told you of this?" she asked.


    "Rey-" I stopped myself from saying his name right on time. "Just...a little bird told me."


    Not satisfied by my answer, she narrowed her eyes at me, her beautiful eyelashes fluttering in disbelief. "Right..." she said under her breath. "Right!" she said much louder this time, clapping her hands. "Right. It''s fine. Everything''s fine. Your Highness." She brought her face up close to mine, only leaving an inch or two to spare. My eyes widened as I got an up close view of her eyes. My, they were absolutely gorgeous. "Your Highness, you know, don''t you?"


    I furrowed my eyebrows, suddenly uncomfortable in her presence.


    "You know, right?" she repeated, holding my gaze. "You are aware of the tragedy that is yet to befall you, aren''t you? In a year''s time, you''ll be dead. You''ll die, do you get that? You''ll be sacrificed to your ancestor''s so-called ''God''."


    I opened my mouth to speak but no words came out. I tried to turn my face elsewhere, to break off whatever kind of hypnosis this woman was using on me, but to no avail. I''m sure it wasn''t hypnosis at all. It was just the aura she possessed that held me in my place. In that moment, she looked so very intimidating, much more so than whatever Elora had been.


    "I''ll tell you why I''ve come here," she said, the breathiness back in her voice. "Just ask me."


    As if on cue, my mouth opened and before I knew it, I asked her, "Why''ve you come here?"


    She smiled and sat back, finally pulling her face away from mine.. "Because I am to make sure that you survive."

 Chapter 27 - Mister Sly Crow

    After that night, Yvonne and I had little contact.


    We only saw each other during breakfast, in the gardens, or came across each other in the corridors. Other than that, both of us were busy in our own preparations for the ceremony.


    Because she had arrived here so close to the Ceremony, Yvonne had a lot to catch up on. So we had no choice but to stay out of each other''s ways.


    That night after she had confessed that she wanted to ensure my survival, she''d told me all about her plan.


    "What if we send in a decoy?" she had said, her eyes glittering with excitement. "What if you don''t ever show up at the ceremony, and in your stead we send in a decoy? Someone who could easily pass off as you if not looked at too closely."


    "B-but," I said, "won''t the attendees notice the difference?"


    "Oh, they would never," she laughed lightheartedly. "After all, they''re always far more interested in themselves. Most of them suffer from a strong case of what we call, ''self-obsessiveness''."


    Reynard''s plan had been for me to escape. That was hard and all, considering that I''d be in a room full of people and will be the cynosure of all eyes. But what if...I don''t show up at all? What if I don''t have to be involved in the ceremony to begin with? Of course, Yvonne''s plan was better than Reynard''s risky one.


    Then I asked her the big question. "But who''ll be the decoy?"


    Yvonne stopped laughing and her eyebrows came together as she thought of the possibilities. "You didn''t expect me to propose a plan without any thought, did you?" she smiled. "We''ll use a loyal acquaintance of mine."


    "Who might that be?"


    She held up two fingers. "You''ll see in two days time."


    "Okay..." I answered, still uncertain. "Then what? What am I supposed to do in the meantime?"


    "Escape," she smiled slyly. "Run away from the palace. Run away from all these beasts that wish to kill you. It''s late, we''ll discuss more later. Good night, now."


    With that, our conversation had ended and Yvonne had gone back just as easily as she had come in. Like a ghost.


    ?


    "Now, Your Highness, snap out of it!" Sir Andre snapped his fingers in front of my face. "This is your last dance lesson before the ceremony. Pay some attention, if you please."


    I sighed as I stood up in position and followed Sir Andre''s lead.


    I had gotten much better at dancing in a week''s time. I learnt most of the basics from Emery and the rest was for Sir Andre to handle.


    "And a one and a two!" Sir Andre demonstrated a graceful jump, his long, shoulder-length hair in the air like a modern-day model. I tried to imitate the jump, but ended up twisting my ankle.


    It wasn''t such a serious case as all the present maids and Sir Andre made it out to be.


    "Great heavens!" Sir Andre gasped and came running towards me. He crouched, worriedly looking at my reddening ankle. "How did this happen?"


    I laughed lightheartedly before pulling my feet under the cover of my dress.


    "It''s alright," I said, getting up. "I''m certain I can carry on."


    "No, you won''t," said Sir Andre as he steered me by the shoulders to a chair which had magically appeared behind me. "You will sit here silently while this servant here," he turned his head and pointed to Emery''s substitute who was a nice girl named Zoie. "She will apply some ointment to your injured ankle. Now get going, you. Ask Miss Martha for the right ointment needed for reducing pain and swelling." He gestured to her to go get the medication and obediently, Zoie went off running with tears in her eyes.


    "But Sir Andre, I do believe I''m quite alright," I said hastily, showing him by twisting and turning my supposedly injured ankle. "If you-"


    Sir Andre shushed me with a finger to his lips. "Enuf!" he said loudly, his accent slipping through. "I will not forsee any injuries occurring during my lesson. That is final. Now if you excuse me." He walked on over to the table of refreshments while I sat idly on a chair in the middle of the room. It was indeed very frustrating that Sir Andre wasn''t prepared to listen to me at all, but on the bright side, it did make me a little happy to see that he cared about his student''s well being. I had always thought he''d be a narcissist.


    Zoie came back fairly quickly with a jar of salve in her hands and it was applied to BOTH my ankles even though only one had been twisted. "Better safe than sorry," Zoie whispered as she rubbed the ointment on my second foot.


    After that, our lesson was cut short and a random guard was told to carry me to my room even though I could walk perfectly well. Martha was waiting for me by the door, her arms crossed.


    "I can''t believe this," she sighed as she thanked the guard and told him to lay me on my bed. "How could you be so careless, Your Highness?"


    "I wasn''t!" Okay, maybe a little. "And I''m perfectly fine," I sighed. "I told him too but he wouldn''t listen."


    "It''s because he''s worried," she rolled her eyes, her wrinkles stretching.


    "He is, isn''t he?" I smiled.


    "Not about you!" Martha said. "He''s worried that he''d be chewed up by His Majesty if you got seriously injured when the ceremony is two days away. He only cares about himself after all."


    My head drooped down "Oh..." I knew he was a narcissist.


    Martha left me to rest while she went to get some bandages. I laid my head down on my soft, silk pillow, letting my legs dangle down freely so as not to ruin the duvet.


    Now I could think a bit more about Yvonne and her proposed plan.


    A decoy, huh? She said she had someone already in mind. But was her plan so fool-proof as she made it out to be? Won''t the Emperor notice? Won''t anyone notice?


    I sat up a little when I heard the door creak. Martha was to be expected to come bustling in but after waiting a minute or two, I decided that it must have misheard. I sighed and moved to lay my head back down but something happened that made my body completely freeze up.


    Something was grabbing onto my ankle. The one with the ointment.


    I dared not make a sound. I just kept in that awkward position for a few seconds before giving my leg a little tug. And it was free. At the speed of light, I pulled my legs up onto the bed, for once not caring about dirtying the clean duvet.


    "Eww," came a voice from under the bed, followed by several loud sniffs. "What is this, slime?"


    My tense shoulders sagged as I realized who this voice belonged to.


    "Haven''t you learned your lesson once?" I sighed. "Why do you keep doing this? What if Martha decided to suddenly sweep under the bed?"


    "But why would she decide to do so," Reynard said with a hint of humor in his voice as he crawled out from under there, "when it is already spotless? Believe me, I know."


    "I don''t doubt you do," I muttered. "Well, how long have you been waiting?"


    "Just got here half an hour ago," he answered, cleaning his hand with a pocket-napkin. "Or was it one?"


    With a large ''plop'', he threw himself on my bed face first and melted into the softness. "Princess, it isn''t fair how you get to keep all the good stuff. I mean, do you feel this bed? I can''t believe you get to sleep here every night."


    I hardly poked the side of his waist with my feet. "Aren''t you getting a little too comfortable around me? Get out of my bed. And anyways, Martha could be coming back any minute now."


    "That maid of yours sure is something, y''know?" he said thoughtfully, imprinting circles on the white sheet with his fingers. "She started going crazy when that little girl came to ask for the salve jar. At one point I even thought she was about to cry. Were you hurt that badly?"


    "No," I said thoughtfully, my toes automatically wiggling.


    I knew Martha cared about me from the very start. She may seem stern and harsh at times but at the end of the day, she was just like a grandma taking good care of her little grandchild whom she just cannot come to hate.


    "Anyways, go on," I poked him again, urgently this time. "Get out. Hide or something. I can practically hear her footsteps now. She''s coming back. Go!"


    "I can''t leave yet, though," he grunted as he got up. "I need you to hear out my plan. After all, we don''t have much time left."


    "Grand, grand, whatever," I said dismissively, giving him a little push. "Now go!"


    He looked at me funny because of my tone. "Okay. I''ll be around."


    With a single glance back, Reynard went into hiding again, this time out through the window. And on the side, in came Martha with a tray of all sorts of medical equipment in her hands, just in time to catch a glimpse of Reynard''s cloak as he left.


    "Was that a crow?" she asked, concerned.


    "Haha...I dunno," I laughed awkwardly, fingering the bandages nervously.


    Martha walked over to the window and peered outside before shutting the window and locking the latch.


    "Crows don''t fly here at this time of the year. I don''t think," she muttered to herself. "Anyways, it''s better to lock it....just in case."


    "Right," I said.. "Better do that."

 Chapter 28 - The Ceremony [I]: To Be A Princess

    It''s today. The ''Big Day''.


    I spent the last day taking language and mannerism lessons. I was to take them side by side to the dance lessons but because I was lacking more in the dance field, the Emperor said to prioritize them more.


    "After all," he had said, "royal behavior and the official tongue must come naturally to you."


    On top of all that, Martha suddenly asked me about my progress with the speech.


    "I have to deliver a speech!?" I asked, appalled.


    "Customarily."


    Since then I''ve been extremely stressed.


    "Your Highness," Martha sighed. "Do stop pacing the floor and come sit down. Have a little bite before resuming the preparations."


    "Martha." I turned to her, stopping briefly in my tracks. "If I eat anything right now, I''m afraid I''ll throw it all up later today. Don''t want to ruin the dress, right?"


    Martha''s eyebrows furrowed as if she was about to argue my point but then eased back as she realized that I was right.


    "At least drink some water," she said.


    Popping with nerves, I extended a hand to her and she handed me a goblet of water which I downed in a second.


    Today, I was too nervous to be calm. I wringed my hands and kept looking at the window, perplexed. It was already the afternoon and Reynard was nowhere to be seen. So wasn''t Yvonne.


    "Martha," I said, "has Yvonne come to visit today?"


    She looked confused at my mention of her. "No, Your Highness."


    I sighed loudly and plopped on the bed.


    "Has the dress arrived?"


    "Yes, Your Highness. The butler brought it in this morning. We''ve had it all set in the special dressing room."


    "And my shoes? The accessories?"


    "All set."


    The fact that everything was already prepared was making me even more anxious. I was hoping that something could be amiss and the ceremony would get postponed but I guess everybody was just too efficient today.


    "Has the ballroom been set up?" I asked, hoping to get a negative response.


    "Your Highness, you mustn''t bother about such matters," Martha said, trying to be assuring. "Everything is all in place. We''ll get you ready right in time and the guests will start showing up by 7 pm. You need not worry."


    7 pm. That was in five hours.


    I had five hours to meet up with either one of my mastermind-planners-strategists-partners in crime and brief over the final course of action. None of them had made an appearance yet and I had started to worry that maybe they''d bailed on me.


    Just then, a knock came at the door. Martha went over to open it and immediately fell down in a curtsy. I walked to the door to see who it was and was relieved to see Yvonne standing there in all her glory.


    "Your Highness," she smiled and curtsied, one leg behind the other. "I''ve come."


    I nodded. "Martha, could you give us a minute?" I asked quietly.


    When she finally left, I shut the door and quickly turned to Yvonne.


    "So," I began, "did you..."


    She anticipated my words. "The decoy is ready."


    I sighed, relieved. But then tensed up again as I thought of something.


    "Okay, listen here," I said. "This decoy- will she pass off as me? Does she look even remotely similar to me?"


    Yvonne thought. "Well, the only thing she''s got going for her," she said, "is the eyes. She''s got pretty sea-green eyes. Not as green as yours, though. But green enough, I''d say."


    "Andˇ­?" I prompted. "How old is she?"


    "Older than you," was Yvonne''s answer. "23?"


    I started sweating.


    "And...hair? What about the hair?"


    "Brown."


    I slumped down on my bed.


    "Yvonne, I thought you said your plan was foolproof! What are we to do? The decoy will never pass off as me."


    Yvonne- with a hint of humor in her voice- said, "I never said my plan was foolproof. Besides, no plan''s ever foolproof. But we can make this work."


    I looked up. "How?"


    "Listen carefully," she said. "And make note of the important points."


    I sat up, my dress clenched in my hands.


    "Your maids- Hetty and Marilynne- I heard that these two are to prepare you and Miss Martha is to see over all processions."


    I nodded.


    "Hetty and Marilynne," she said, deep in thought, "are these two well aware of your face? The particular features?"


    I nodded again.


    "Okay, so this is what we''re going to do," Yvonne said, clapping her hands. "Say you get ready for your grand entrance at 6 pm, yes? You''ll make sure that your maids get to see a lot of you and you convince them that it''ll be you who''s going to be at the ceremony. No one else, but you."


    I nodded, making a mental note.


    "Then right before your entrance, you''ll change attire with the decoy, alright? She''ll be the one to enter, not you. Meanwhile you and I will quietly slip out of the palace."


    "But," I spoke up, "won''t the guests at the ceremony be quick to notice the difference? The hair-"


    "I''ve a wig," Yvonne said firmly. "I''ll ask your maid what hairstyle you will be going with for the night and I''ll prepare the wig accordingly in advance. You''ve nothing to worry about."


    That''s well and all...


    "But," I said again, "what about the first dance?"


    Yvonne looked confused. "What dance?"


    "I''ve to dance. With a partner. Guy. Close contact. Exposed." I was throwing out words at this point for Yvonne to understand.


    Yvonne remained silent for a while but I could see the wheels turning in her head as she thought about a solution. Then suddenly she clicked her fingers as if to say ''Eureka!''.


    "There isn''t any way to avoid the dance," she nodded. "So you''ll just have to go along with it, won''t you?"


    I groaned and she smiled.


    "We can get you changed after the first dance and you can quietly slip away while the guests are busy," she said, laughing at my misery. "Remember, Your Highness. There''s always a way."


    I laid my head down and thought over the plan.


    "What''s going to happen to me then?" I asked quietly. "Why am I even escaping in the first place?"


    Yvonne sat down next to me.


    "Because you''ll be killed next year, otherwise."


    "But why do we have to leave today?" I asked, not understanding. "They''re not going to kill me today. Even if they do get to see my powers, they''ll not instantly harm me, would they? So can''t we leave a few days later when things aren''t so hectic?"


    "Your Highness," Yvonne started, "have you forgotten? After the ceremony, you''re not going to get a day of rest in your life. Ever."


    I furrowed my eyebrows, confused.


    Yvonne continued to explain. "The prophecy stated that you''ll work hard for one whole year before your ''sacrifice'' to gain the favor of you people. It''s an important clause for the absolute success of the ritual and to avail eternal blessings."


    I didn''t say anything.


    "Ok, whatever!" I spoke after a long time. "Who''s this girl that''ll be taking my place? Is it someone I know?"


    Yvonne looked surprised. "Hmm? Yes. I''m sure you''ve met her. She works at the palace."


    ?


    "Zoie?" I asked incredulously. "Zoie!?"


    Yvonne looked amused. "Zoie is a good friend of mine. She was actually an employee back at King Irvin''s castle. I''d say she''s a pretty good build to be mistaken for you at first glance, don''t you reckon?"


    Zoie stood there nervously as she fidgeted with her apron and looked from my face to Yvonne''s and back.


    Yvonne and Zoie seemed to be pretty well acquainted with each other, as if they''d lived together for a while.


    Yvonne saw me wondering so she spoke, "She used to attend to me back in Clatoise. I had her apply for the job when I heard there was a sudden opening."


    It pained me to think about how this opening had happened and I longed to say something about it but decided to keep my mouth shut. I couldn''t risk getting on Yvonne''s bad side when she was going the extra mile while trying to assure my survival.


    "Right, Zoie," I said, turning to her, and was surprised to see her suddenly curtsy once again.


    She said with her tiny but strong voice, "Yes, Your Highness!"


    "I need you by my door after the first dance today, alright? Make sure you keep check when it ends. I definitely can''t tolerate any late-comings today. It''s an important event and I can''t miss this opportunity."


    She nodded along with every word. "Of course, Your Highness. I will make sure not to inconvenience you in any way."


    "Good," I said as I turned on my heel.


    Let the show begin.

 Chapter 29 - *The Ceremony [II]: A Princesss Duty

    "Her Royal Highness, Crown Princess of the blessed Empire of Wisteria, Princess Cynthia Amaryll De Klaern is about to make her entrance!"


    I hesitantly glanced back at Martha when the M.C. called my name, or rather the princess''s name. Martha made a V shape with her thumb and index finger, telling me to arrange my pink stained lips in a charming smile.


    Turning back to the door, I arranged the neckline of my dress and fanned the skirt out to tame any potential wrinkles. The diamond embedded tiara on my head felt heavy as I fixed it into position. Then my hands overlapped on my skirt and I smiled without showing my teeth, hoping it didn''t look forced.


    I could already hear the excited chatter of all the guests and the light instrumental music played by the large commission of talented musicians appointed specially for this event. These people were separated from me by this one wall which I was about to pass through at any moment.


    The guards on either side of the large double-doors nodded at each other and bowed before thrusting at the door. The blare of music suddenly hit my ears, much louder now. I was blinded by the sudden beam of golden light before my eyes adjusted to the refulgent glow of a totally different level of magnificence. *ILLUSTRATION


    The ballroom was absolutely dazzling.


    The green wallpaper didn''t look so green under the glare of the several glass chandeliers beneath which stood a horde of on-looking guests, their necks craned up in anticipation at the high indoor balcony.


    Beads of sweat ran down my temples. As if with a will of their own, my feet moved forward, horrifyingly carrying me with them. The guests quietened down and the music came to a stop altogether as I approached the balustrade. In the midst of the sudden silence, I think I heard a few clinking of champagne glasses and a flutter of gowns as the crowd before me fell into deep curtsies and bows.


    I swallowed. "Rise," I said meekly and smiled.


    I was all alone on the platform. (Except for the M.C. who preferred to conflate with the door in the background.)


    With a clearing of my throat, words escaped my mouth before I even knew it.


    "Loyal subjects, ladies and gentlemen..." I recited, praying that my voice wouldn''t break. I hadn''t prepared for a speech at all, but thankfully, my school assignments came to mind.


    "...it is on this very day that we have all gathered here to celebrate such a wonderful occasion. As most of you may already know, it is the 17th anniversary of my birth."


    Mumbles of congratulations.


    "It truly is an honor to be in the presence of such wondrous personalities..." I wasn''t ashamed to lie through my teeth. Several mumbles of ''likewise'' were audible.


    "...and I hope that we could all make equally wondrous memories on this day that might as well go down in history."


    Many guests, I noticed, exchanged confused glances and some even went as far as whispering when my speech was still in play. But with a shake of my head, I dismissed these actions of supposed impertinence and continued:


    "These past seventeen years have been an absolutely amazing journey for me. I got to experience so much love and care which I couldn''t have ever dreamed of before."


    Another exchange of puzzled glances. I could almost feel the worry of the M.C. behind me.


    "I hope I could continue living," I emphasized on ''living; the several pairs of furrowed eyebrows in the audience brought me much satisfaction, "a long life surrounded by the people I deeply and truly care for. I hope I could be a good princess to you all and that this Empire could flourish under my family''s reign. My father-" I paused, not knowing how to continue this topic I had unconsciously brought up.


    "My father, the Emperor, is a wonderful man. He has brought me great joy all my life and I wish he could continue to do so, whether it be tomorrow or 30 years from now. I hope I haven''t taken much of the night. I''ll finish this oration here by saying: enjoy the night! Now, if you may excuse me," I finished and excused myself away from the balustrade and backed up, turning to the M.C. The chatters of the guests had already resumed.


    "Your Highness," he said and bowed low, though the several running beads of sweat did not go unnoticed by me. "You may walk down these stairs now and onto the dance floor." He gestured to the flight of red-carpeted curved stairs.


    Nodding, I gracefully walked down the stairs with the fold of my dress clenched in my hand to avoid me from tripping and my other hand gliding smoothly across the ceramic railing.


    I had noticed that the Emperor himself was nowhere to be seen and I had been under the impression that he''d be attending his daughter''s important ceremony. Guess I was wrong. But now, only one, horrifying thought was going through my mind now: the dance, the dance, the danceˇ­


    "Right," I muttered under my breath as I stepped down from the last step. "Let''s see who''ll propose to me for the first dance."


    I made my way to the middle of the dance floor as the guests started to scamper out of my way. In a haze, I somehow remembered to keep my back straight, chin high and the bust out.


    I stepped into the middle of the grand circular mosaic pattern on the floor and exhaled. My eyes looked from face to face as I tried to distinguish these guests, hoping no one would approach me. Martha had previously given me a list of the guests who''d be attending the ceremony to study and memorize for the event. Honestly, I had procrastinated until the last day and had cast it aside at the end. I can''t say I didn''t regret it now.


    Then, all of a sudden, 6 males approached me from all directions, all of them perhaps a bit older age wise. Internally, I was panicking. It meant I had to choose who I''d dance with. Martha had said to dance with the guy who looked the most distinguished and honestly, all of them looked like high-class nobles.


    The men approached me and offered their gloved hands, saying in unison, "Your Highness, may I have this dance?"


    It was most cringy.


    Honestly, I was disheartened as I had expected for Reynard to show up as well. It seemed as if he had better stuff to do.


    I shivered as I looked from one expensive looking face to the other, wondering if all these guys used some sort of miracle skin cream. My right hand hovered in the air for a moment before I decided to place it under the care of a well-dressed, blonde guy who was much taller than me. Korean Seonhee could never.


    The music resumed as everyone around me chose partners and started to dance.


    The blonde guy put a hand around my waist, startling me, and swooped me along with his tall legs as he twirled in the orderly fashion.


    "Your Highness, allow me to introduce myself. My name is Parr Huxley, oldest son to Duke Huxley of Notdale. It''s a pleasure to make your acquaintance," he said with a low, gentle voice.


    I smiled. "I need not introduce myself, I hope?"


    It seemed that Sir Andre''s lessons had been somewhat beneficial. I was doing quite well by far, and I hadn''t once twisted my ankle or stepped onto my partner''s shoe.


    "Of course not," he said as we parted hands for a moment only to be united once again as loud, lovely music enveloped us all. The flow of the song wasn''t very fast paced so I had no fear of losing my breath.


    "Marquess Huxley, is it?" I asked. "What a pleasure. Pray tell how you''re finding the ceremony so far."


    He grinned. "Most wonderful. I must say, everything is put together very well."


    Another twirl, another parting. I was painfully aware of all the eyes etching into my back, peering upon us with awe or envy as we led the dance. I so wished this would end soon.


    It looked as if the song was about to come to a close. Parr Huxley was still going strong, his coattails moving in rhythm with his moves. The dance came to an end and all partners bowed or curtsied as a sign of thanks and moved onto the second dance.


    "Care to join me, Your Highness?" he asked, offering me his hand once again. "Or would you prefer another partner?"


    I edged away awkwardly, looking for the exit. "Thank you," I said, "but I''d like to rest for a bit. Please excuse me."


    He bowed as I left.


    I knew there was no chance that I could leave unnoticed as everyone''s eyes were still on me as I walked briskly along the dance floor, my heeled feet tapping along the white tiles and my dress flowing in rhythm with my walk, the pink glinting under the light.


    From the corner of my eye, I could see several men walking towards me, their hands outstretched as if hoping to ask me for the dance. Desperately, I fast-walked to the door by the end of the hall, only to be met by a couple of guards blocking my way.


    They bowed as I approached.


    "Rise, gentlemen. I''d appreciate it if you could just move to the side," I said as I inched towards the doors.


    "Forgive us, Your Highness," said Guard 1 in the most robotic tone. "Nobody''s allowed to leave till 9 unless it''s an emergency."


    I thought for a moment, my mind racing. I was possessed by an urgent need to get out of here. "I''d like to go to the washroom, please."


    "Lavatories are along the fifth door on the far wall." Guard two pointed by the staircases.


    "Then let me go to the gardens. It''s rather stifling in here."


    The guards didn''t budge. "The conservatory could be visited by the archway on the dextral wall. A table of refreshments could be found by each end of the ballroom, if needed."


    Guard 2 muttered to Guard 1, "I''m sure Carsten had one placed in the conservatory as well." Carsten was the butler.


    "Right, gentlemen," I said, turning on my heel in a huff, "I''ll be seeing you later.." Or not, if all goes well.

 Chapter 30 - *The Ceremony [III]: Caught Before The Act

    I had almost reached the staircases when a hand grabbed onto the tulle of my dress and pulled me aside in one, swift motion.


    "Hey!" I was about to yell when a gruff hand covered my mouth. I was under the stairwell and it was dark so I couldn''t see who it was. "Mmm!!"


    "Shush, Your Highness," said the dark, husky voice. "It''s only me, so do not fret so."


    The hand on my mouth slid away and slowly, as I calmed down, I was able to recognize who this was.


    Reynard.


    Dressed in a very smart white dress coat and his usually black, unruly hair swept back, he looked quite ready for the event. This was the first time I was seeing him in palace-appropriate attire and I dare say, I was dead chuffed.


    "Good god..." I said quietly, my eyes sweeping over him. "Couldn''t find your cloak today?"


    He rolled his eyes and crouched lower as he began to speak, "All jokes aside, Your Highness, we have to get you out of here. Like, now."


    I sat up.


    "What time is it?"


    "Almost 7:45."


    *Sharp inhale* "Are we running late?"


    "Very much."


    "How did you even manage to come here? You said once before that you aren''t of noble birth, so how did you break through the especially vigilant guards today?"


    He contemplated a while as to how to answer my question. "I''m just that amazing."


    "Amazing enough to be a master criminal, no less."


    He said, shocked, "You know I''d never-"


    "Yes, yes, now listen to what I''ve to say before someone notices that the princess has disappeared."


    "I''m all ears."


    Quickly, I informed him about ''Plan: Decoy'' but was careful enough to leave Yvonne out of it so as not to taint her name. I told him about Zoie and the wig and the exchange of garments while he nodded and when I finished, he sat back in amazement.


    "I didn''t expect you to come up with such an idea, or was it really you?" he asked.


    I laughed awkwardly, gathering the hems of my special dress. "Of course it was me. Now let''s get moving."


    I got out from the shelter of the curving stairs first, making sure no one noticed and proceeded to tap my feet up all the way to the top.


    "Erm..." I said uncertainly as I approached the M.C.


    Alarmed, he bowed deep low and then stood up when I told him to. "Stanton Morley at your service, Your Highness."


    "Right," I said, relieved and then gestured towards the large double-doors. "Could you perhaps let me through?"


    "Forgive me, Your Highness, but it is not permissible to leave before 9-"


    "-Unless it''s an emergency?" I completed. "Though it is, Mr. Morley. I''d like to go grab something from my room, you see, it is quite valuable. My good friend Marquess Huxley has proposed a deep interest in the article, so I''d like to give him a little look at it."


    "Of course, Your Highness," Morley said quickly. "Though it would be better if you could ask a guard to fetch it for you, if you don''t mind me saying, as it isn''t quite the emergency."


    "I understand, Mr. Morley," I said as I tried to keep the desperation out of my voice, "but I don''t want a guard going through my private belongings. If you don''t let me through now, I''ll inform my Father of this insolence and dare I say, he won''t be very nice about it."


    Finally intimidated, Morley moved aside and bowed once again before opening the door for me. "Sir Elton will gladly accompany you," were his last, parting words.


    With my feet thudding against the carpet as I ran through the corridor which led to my room. The folds of my dress clenched in sweaty palms, I looked around, half expecting to see Reynard right behind me. But sadly, it was only the guard who was doing a great job at matching my pace.


    In 5 minutes I was standing outside the door of my room. "Sir Elton," I said, addressing the guard. "You may wait for me 10 yards away from this door. Don''t ask any questions as to why."


    When he had gone, I pushed open the large, delicately engraved door and was astonished to see the sight before me. It was good of me to have sent the guard away or else he''d already be raising his sword.


    On my bed, enjoying a hot cup of tea, sat Yvonne in all of her glory. Though the atmosphere was tense, she looked especially tranquil, the expression on her face lighting up slightly at the sight of me. Zoie stood in the corner with a pot of tea in her hand, the cover of her black skirt not able to hide the fact that her legs were shaking. ILLUSTRATION:


    What seemed to be the most appalling of this scene, was that Reynard sat directly across from Yvonne on my bed with a similarly poured cup of tea in his hands. I could already see the sweat on his face as he tried to keep his expression composed.


    This would''ve looked like a lovely tea party aside from the fact that it was with the totally wrong attenders.


    Awkwardly, I stepped through the door frame before slamming shut the door behind me. I wasn''t ashamed to admit that I was afraid. I couldn''t fathom the fact that Reynard had been caught by none other than Yvonne, when he had always succeeded in sneaking in and out.


    I looked from face to face, not certain how to address this situation.


    Finally, Yvonne placed her cup of tea down and smiled.


    "Your Highness," she said calmly. "Zoie and I had been waiting in your room when this little bird decided to take a dive in through your bedroom window. He claims to be an acquaintance of yours, pray tell, is he lying?"


    I hesitated. Answering this question could go either way. "I''ll have to agree with the gentleman," I said finally.


    Yvonne took a long sip. "Though however close of an acquaintance he may be, does it or does it not feel unnatural of him to visit the princess''s private chambers through the means of none other than a window when she is well away? And on the 1st floor, nonetheless."


    "You''re right, it is extremely unnatural," I said, smiling sweetly at Reynard who seemed to be sweating much more now. "But I''ll forsee it just this once," I said firmly, hoping Yvonne would follow my lead, "as I dare not lose this acquaintance."


    After a long moment that was spent in silence, Yvonne decided to speak up once more. "Your Highness," she said, her blue eyes glittering with mischief, "is this the same little bird who informed you of the prophecy?"

 Chapter 31 - Flying The Coop

    I choked up. No, we can''t get caught like this.


    "What are you talking about?" I uttered out as I worriedly glanced at Reynard who wouldn''t meet my eye.


    "You know very well, Your Highness," she said and turned to a startled Reynard. "My good sir, it is a pleasure to meet you. I''m sure you already know but I am Lady Yvonne Sumner from Clatoise. Pleasure to make your acquaintance. Now," she said as she stood up, "let us skip further formalities for I am certain that we are all on the same side. My good sir, aren''t you also of the same belief that the princess deserves a chance at life?"


    Reynard remained tight-lipped but nodded.


    "Good," Yvonne said. "Now that each one of us in this room is a criminal supporting the same cause, we have nothing to hide. Let''s move on."


    I looked from face to face, stunned. Yvonne had brushed off our wrong-doing so effortlessly, I wondered if what we were doing was even illegal. Reynard looked as if he was finally at ease with the situation at hand and flashed me a nervous smile as I stood by the door, worried if the guard was wondering why it was taking me so long. It wouldn''t be long before he''d come to check up on me.


    Then I remembered.


    "Reynard, out," I said urgently.


    "What, why?"


    Yvonne responded on behalf of me. "She needs to change..." She was smiling but her eyes held a glint of suspicion. "...my good sir."


    ?


    "Your Highness," Zoie squeaked out as she pulled at the heavy dress. "No offence meant, but this is quite stifling. How do you manage in this?"


    "Likewise," I said, irritated. "Your maid outfit is so scratchy. How can one even work in this all day?"


    She smiled wistfully. "I''ve gotten accustomed to it."


    "So," I sighed, "have I."


    "Enough chit-chat!" Yvonne butt in. "Your guard is going to knock on the door any minute now. Zoie, you''ll go in the princess''s stead, just like we planned."


    Zoie pursed her lips but nodded.


    "And you, Your Highness," Yvonne said as she turned to me with gleaming blue eyes, "will follow this gentleman outside."


    The gentleman in question was actually Reynard who didn''t look much like a gentleman now that he was wearing his cloak which he''d hidden somewhere in the gardens. Yvonne had been quite impressed by his parkour skills when he had jumped out to retrieve it. Zoie had almost fainted at the sight.


    I followed Reynard towards the window and spared a glance back at dear Zoie who looked very regal in Fleur''s design but the fake, highly-saturated purple wig was a huge turn-off. Yvonne had tried her very best to prepare Zoie physically and mentally for this huge responsibility. But all the same, she appeared to be trembling.


    I felt bad that such a huge responsibility which was originally mine, had been cast off to her when she had noting at all to do with it. How absolutely miserable.


    "Don''t worry," Yvonne said to her softly, her back to me. "No one will question you. All you have to do is stay by the sidelines. Don''t let anyone acknowledge your presence and don''t let anyone take a proper look at your face. Understood?"


    Zoie bobbed her head in a weak nod.


    "Your Highness, let''s get moving," Reynard said, interrupting my train of thought.


    "Yeah, give me a second," I whispered and turned to Yvonne. "What''s going to happen to her?"


    Yvonne looked at me, confused. "To Zoie, do you mean? What do you mean ''what''s going to happen to her''?"


    I looked at the door desperately before speaking.  "When everyone eventually notices that she''s not me, what will happen to her? Won''t she be punished for imitating me?" A shiver ran down my spine as I imagined Zoie being thrown into the bitter, cold-floored dungeons.


    She thought long and hard before answering, unaware of Zoie gulping.


    "Zoie will never get caught," she said confidently and firmly. "You can mark my words. Now go, go, and stop fretting over this subject. You''ve your own matters to attend to. Mister Gradral, take her away."


    Reynard must''ve been surprised to have been addressed like that for the first time because he didn''t reach for me promptly. But after a moment or two, he poked my shoulder.


    "Grab onto me."


    Now what I hadn''t known, ever, was how Reynard travelled after he had jumped off the balcony or the window. But never did I expect this.


    We were soaring.


    Just like I had been instructed, I had grabbed onto Reynard''s shoulders tightly before he proceeded to jump. The moment his feet left the window''s ledge, we were pulled by the god forsaken gravity. I felt the pressure of the air as it knocked against my ears and my tightly shut eyelids, my hair flailing all over the place. I felt stupid for not tying them in a ponytail.


    As we hurled downwards toward the damp earth below, I knew that only a miracle in the next moment or so was the only thing that would save us from disaster. I felt my lips tremble as prayers escaped them. Oh why God, why had I gone along with this stupid plan? Why had I been a fool to have trusted this risky man with my life?


    Just when I thought we were done for, Reynard''s assuring words caught my ears.


    "Hold on!"


    And we landed with a soft thump onto the grass below.


    Dazed, I unwrapped the arms that had been practically strangling Reynard by the neck and swayed from side to side as the thought of what I had done started to sink in. I looked up towards my bedroom window, surprised to see Yvonne peering downwards and flashing a thumbs up before disappearing back.


    Like I had said, my bedroom was on the second floor, but the height of one single story of the palace wasn''t even remotely similar to the cranky apartments back in Incheon or Daegu. The ceilings were so high up in every other room that a single floor seemed like a couple.


    "Right, that''s done," I heard Reynard mutter beside me. He was checking his shoes for damage but when he found none, he turned to me. "Ready to proceed?"


    "Wait..." I said faintly. "Normally, you would''ve broken at least a bone or two if someone fell from that height. How are you still alright? Are you sure nothing hurts?"


    "Princess," Reynard chuckled, "when did I ever say I was normal?"


    Moments later, I was running in tow to Reynard in Zoie''s maid flats through the neatly trimmed grass.


    "Remember to stay out of the light," Reynard said without looking back, scouting for any guards.


    The tense atmosphere had succeeded in enveloping us both. My heart was thumping in my chest and the blood was pounding in my ears. Being an athlete and all seems like a cool idea but all the work it requires is definitely tiring. As I scanned the perimeter, I was severely hoping that the sound of the crinkling grass wouldn''t alert any unnecessary attention.


    "R-Reynard-" I stopped to catch my breath. Keeping up with his pace was a huge task.


    He stopped too and turned around to jog towards me.


    "What''s happened?" he asked worriedly. I noticed that he wasn''t even sweating while I was glistening with it, my back drenched.


    "W-wait a moment," I said, as I crouched down. "You''re going too fast."


    Reynard pulled at my arms urgently. "I can''t help it. If we go with your pace, someone is sure to notice us out in the open. I don''t even go through the gardens usually, I just skip over the walls."


    "Of course you do," I said, rolling my eyes and standing up.


    As soon as I was on my feet, we were moving again.


    "Where to?" I asked, running beside him, thankful that he''d slowed down a bit.


    "West-wing tower."


    My eyes widened. "What?" I hissed. "We can''t go there, nobody can. It''s in ruins!"


    Reynard glanced at me meaningfully. "Not the tower, it''s not."


    "But why the tower?" I huffed.


    "It''s the closest location that''s connected directly to the outer palace boundary. And according to my calculations, the guards won''t be much too concentrated near that wall. After all, who''d expect anyone to escape the palace through an evacuated building which is publicly off-limits? And in the middle of the awakening, no less."


    I looked at him, puzzled. "Awakening? Of what?"


    "Of you."


    Oh crap, I had forgotten about the whole ''divine powers'' shindig.

 Chapter 32 - West-wing Tower

    Zoie''s shoes stepped onto the carpet that had once been a regal red. Now it had been greyed down and ruined.


    I coughed as I inhaled the smell of ashes. "Do you know the location of the tower?"


    Reynard was just a few steps ahead of me. He was carefully stepping over where the carpet was gathered in folds while his eyes swerved from wall to wall for something best known to himself, but when I called out to him, he looked back.


    "What was that?" he asked, pausing in the middle of the corridor, illuminated from above by a broken skylight. I daresay, he looked extremely mysterious. Eerie, even.


    I shivered. "The tower," I repeated after a while. "Do you know the way to get there?"


    Reynard''s eye brows eased back. "''Course I do. Just follow my lead."


    Still uncertain, I picked my way through the obstacles of dropped buckets, several single shoes and even some guard jackets. It seemed as if the site hadn''t been cleaned after the sad event. The whole time, I was painfully aware that this was the place where the grim reaper had given Emery a visit.


    The west wing looked like it had almost a week ago, the red curtains still draped in front of the tall with their golden tassels dangling , glass windows, the chandeliers still hanging in place, the number of expensive framed paintings still displayed neatly on the wall, but everything had a most contrary feel to it.


    It was like I was visiting a murder scene after the crime had already taken place. Everything still looked the same, but there were various subtle hints which pointed out that something was very wrong. Even if everything seemed unchanged, one couldn''t continue to live in that place without bearing the constant weight of the previous occurrence in the mind.


    That is how I felt.


    "Reynard," I heard a whisper escape my still-pink-stained lips. "Doesn''t it feel painful to remember what happened here?"


    Reynard didn''t slow his pace. It was getting darker as we proceeded towards the heart of the building and Reynard''s black cloak was proving it difficult to instantly spot him, but the constant assuring sounds of him clumsily clinking and thumping over stuff proved that he was still near me. A relief not taken for granted.


    "I never got to know what happened, but I''ve roughly gotten the gist of it," he answered quietly after what seemed like years. "Was it an accidental fire?"


    My mouth twitched and my feet stopped moving as Lorelei''s words came to mind. ''Arson'' she had said with unmoving lips and wide eyes as I remembered them so clearly.


    "I''m not sure," I replied grimly. "Nobody looked into it much further and Father ordered us all to keep our mouths shut. It''s probably become a taboo topic amongst the residents of the palace."


    "Right," Reynard grumbled. "But do you have your suspicions?"


    I did not enjoy this topic. "Let''s just say it was an accidental fire."


    He glanced back, surprised, but didn''t pry further.


    After a while of walking and stopping at the wrong doors we finally made it.


    "Well, here we are, this''s the door to the tower."


    The whole while I had been walking with my gaze lowered so as not to trip and fall over something. When I finally lifted my eyes towards where I believed Reynard''s silhouette was supposed to be, I saw a faint shape of a door.


    "Thisˇ­?" I treaded softly over the floor towards the said door.


    It wasn''t the usual, gorgeously carved wooden doors that most rooms in the palace seemed to have. This was a more worn down, more untouched sort of door, with no intricate carvings but two parallel metal planks horizontally embedded into the wooden planks, holding them together.


    "Ah..." I muttered as I fingered the door handle. My fingers trailed downwards towards a large, square shaped piece of metal and with a loud clunk, it was announced that the door was locked. "It''s locked," I said almost to myself.


    Reynard was shifting through something in his pocket beside me. "It''s rusted and quite decrepit so I bet I can pick this open," he grunted and yanked out something that glinted under the faint moon light. I''m sure it was a piece of wire.


    He then proceeded to crouch and took an attempt at opening the lock, trying not to make any loud sounds. What he was doing reminded me of those cringey 5-minute diy videos online that everyone used to watch whenever there was nothing else to watch or they just needed to make new slippers out of water bottles. I had once caught Jieum looking distressingly at one of their videos and believe it or not, it guided watchers about how to cheat in tests without getting caught. I''d picked up a thing or two from them myself, admittedly.


    After a few more clinks followed by a loud sigh, I realized that he hadn''t been able to hack it open.


    "No luck?" I asked, desperate.


    "None."


    "Just knock it down, then."


    I received an alarmed stare.


    "Knock it down?" he hissed.


    "Yeah, with your shoulder, you know..." I demonstrated to him how things were done but I didn''t ram my shoulder into the door as I was aware from past experiences that it hurt like hell. But if it was Reynard we were talking about, I bet his shoulder muscles could handle it.


    He stood up, still giving me a strange look. I''m sure I knew what he was thinking: ''Privileged princess knows how to break down doors? Shocker!''


    "I didn''t want to succumb to this route on purpose," he sighed. "It''ll make a lot of noise. Don''t want anyone catching us so far in."


    I knew he was right but I still gave him a disapproving look. "I''ll be on the lookout, you do whatever it takes to get the door open, alright? I''ll notify you if I hear a guard."


    Nodding, he walked a few paces away from the door and looked at me uncertainly before ramming his body with full force into the heart of the door. This produced a loud thud equal to the sound of a gunshot that could''ve brought every single person in the building to the source, unless the wing had previously been evacuated.


    Worried and alarmed, I looked around for guards and ran to the nearest window to peer out at the gardens and check if anyone was approaching. The coast was clear but the door hadn''t been broken down yet.


    "Again," I heard a disheveled Reynard grunt before going at it again, this time with more force. The door did budge a little and with a few more blows to it, it finally gave way.


    Reynard collapsed in front of the open door with his hands frantically rubbing his victimized shoulder while I remained by the window, keeping my guard up.


    When I had made sure no one was going to come for us, I turned back on my heel and walked the few feet that it took to get to Reynard.


    "Let''s not waste any time," I eagerly advised his crouched figure and took a step through the doorway over his thigh. "But before we proceed, pray tell me about the time."


    "It''s almost 15 past 8 now," he said as he stood up. "We''ve got to get you out before the awakening. What time did the guards back at the ballroom tell you when you are allowed to leave?"


    "A bit after 9."


    My words sank in the both of us. "Right, then. We have till 9 to leave. Let''s go."


    The door we had just succeeded in opening led to an extremely dark, circular room. I couldn''t see what was in front of me, but judging by the fact that we were to proceed up to the tower, there must be stairs here.


    Reynard asked me for my hand which I gladly took, not flustered at all by this amount of skin-ship. But I was still a bit surprised to feel that his hands were very rough and calloused.


    Without another word exchanged between us, we started going up the steps, proceeding with caution as the steps were old and creaky.


    "Stay with me," Reynard whispered, yet his voice still echoed against the close walls of the tower. "And mind your steps."


    It seemed when we were a quarter of a way up when I seemed to relax, thinking we were safe. But then suddenly we heard a loud, clinking below us which bounced off the walls.


    Reynard and I froze in our tracks.


    "Why''s this openˇ­?" someone faintly muttered.


    "Don''t. Make. Another. Sound," Reynard hissed quieter than a whisper as he brought me close to him and we flattened ourselves against the wall.


    I gathered the hem of my skirt, hoping it won''t flutter or anything and pulled my hair back from anyone''s line of sight. The fear hadn''t gotten to me yet, the fear of doing something wrong. I just hadn''t been able to fathom the fact that we were involved in something illegal and I''d been under the impression that I''d be able to escape easily with Reynard''s help. But it now seemed as if things had gone wrong.


    "Hello?" the guard shouted up. "Anybody in here?"


    I held my breath as trickles of sweat ran down my forehead. Reynard beside me had seemed to stop breathing as well because I wasn''t able to feel his chest lift again.


    The guard called out again. "Hello?"


    It was pitch black where we were, but down the stairs we could see a faint, orange glow, indicating that the guard was holding a lantern or a candle to enlighten his way under the dark of the night.


    I had my fingers crossed, hoping desperately that he''d just walk away and a minute or two later, my wish was granted.


    "Guess it just fell open," the guard muttered to himself. "Damn rust." And with that he pulled shut the old door which did so with a loud groan that travelled all the way up the tower. Only after we heard footsteps of him walking away did we remember to breathe.


    Reynard gulped in the old, musty air of the tower and so did I, hoping that this ordeal would end soon.


    "Come on," Reynard said.

 Chapter 33 - The Kick-Off: Freedom

    "Reynardˇ­.What. The. Frick."


    We had both succeeded in reaching the top of the tower after a long trek estimating over 20 minutes of pain and suffering. Zoie''s shoes had started to wear out and the soles of my feet were poking through, making it unbearable to stand on the cold, hard concrete.


    On top of the tower, there was a large, glassless window, with nothing but a few metal bars to protect one from the outside world. But this purpose had been eliminated as the bars had been pulled apart to make an opening for a larger than average human-being by none other than the very Reynard.


    My feet had been hurting so much that I had unsuspectedly went and sat on the concrete ledge of the window as other than that, the tiny room on top of the tower was bare, except for a few threatening hooks on the ceiling.


    The stairs had been damp and pitch black all the way up but now that we were near the window, cool air was coming through along with moonlight.


    I had just started to relax a bit when Reynard had proposed the idea that we jump. Off the tower. Which was god-knows how tall.


    Of course, I had called out how outrageous his plan was. He did nothing about it, but just came and sat beside me on the ledge, a gentle hand on my shoulder.


    "Relax, Your Highness." He smiled, tightening his grasp on my shoulder. "It''s not like I''m taking you to your grave."


    My eyes widened and my mouth twitched. Before I knew it, I was yelling right in his face, "BUT THAT''S EXACTLY WHAT YOU''RE TRYING TO DO!"


    Sure, he was taken aback by the outburst but that didn''t stop him and his histrionic efforts.


    Reynard gave an overly exaggerated gasp. "Am I?"


    This is crazy.


    "I am absolutely not going to jump off. This is a tower, you hear me? A TOWER! I can''t even see how deep down it goes."


    Uncertainly, I looked behind me, hoping to see the ground just a few feet below us, but in truth it was so dark that I wouldn''t have been able to see so far in depth even with those 21st century night goggles kids always used to gush about.


    "But you have to."


    "I don''t."


    "You do," was the firm answer that was followed by a tightening of grip over Zoie''s apron straps.


    I shook my shoulder in an attempt to free myself. "Reynard, there''s no way."


    "There is."


    "Are you telling me to die?"


    He pretended to be hurt by putting a trembling hand over his gaping mouth. "I would never."


    We''re both gonna die.


    Well, I had a pretty questionable first life and a half-okay second one. But was I prepared to... fall?


    "Trust me," he said as he jumped up and abruptly gathered me in his arms. If I was some girly-girl I would''ve been blushing like hell and saying, ''S-stop!'' as I enjoyed the feel of the handsome man''s chest, but no, I was not a girly-girl and the only thing I cared about right now was my life.


    "Reynard, put me the f**k down," I growled.


    He chose to ignore my statement. "Now on the count of three. One..."


    "Reynard."


    "...Twoˇ­"


    I was desperate now, pushing on his biceps in an attempt to get away but he didn''t budge an inch.


    "Reynard, stop."


    "Three!"


    Crap.


    ********


    Isn''t life so weird?


    One moment you could be at school surrounded by your classmates, unsuspecting of any bizarre happenings and the very next moment you could wake up in a totally different world surrounded by people wearing suits and aprons and real, princess dresses with the most ridiculously poofy skirts. Then the next moment you could be falling down from someone''s bedroom window dressed in a maid''s gear. How would''ve one known?


    Two weeks or so ago, I''d been living a pretty normal life. If someone had asked me with which one word I''d sum up my whole life, I''d say: ''Meh''


    I''ve a totally different answer in mind now.


    As we plummeted down from the tower, I felt a familiar feeling similar to the one which I had experienced when we fell down from my bedroom window. My heart rate had increased and I held my breath as I clutched Reynard by the neck, afraid to look down.


    I had no doubt left anymore that Reynard was sure to break a leg or two and pull me along with him as well.


    But just like before, we landed on the earth with a soft thud of feet, as if guided by air, and Reynard untangled away from my grasp. I sat there on the soil, not even the least aware that Zoie''s skirt was getting dirty. All I cared about was that I was safely down without any injuries.


    "You''re a monster," I stuttered out to Reynard who was checking his shoes again.


    He looked up, surprised and smiled sweetly.


    "And you, Your Highness, aren''t much less," he said. "As you can see, we have successfully escaped the premises of the palace." I looked around to see the outer boundary of the wall which stretched away beyond our gaze. It was true, we were out.


    "Come one," Reynard laughed as he flicked the bonnet on top of my head. "Let''s get you somewhere safe before your powers awaken. I don''t want you to fall sick on me. You''re heavy as heck."


    I punched him in the shin before standing up and brushing off the skirt.


    "Shut up."


    Reynard and I had dropped straight outside the large forest that surrounded the outer perimeter of the palace. Which meant, in order to escape without being caught, we had to go through the thick jungle of trees.


    As expected, Reynard was a pro at this as he took the lead and walked expertly over the marshy land, guiding me as well. Soon, covered with leaves and bugs sucking off our blood, we finally left the trees behind.


    "Feast your eyes," Reynard chuckled airily, "upon this!"


    Tired and sweaty, I walked to the end of the cliff, barely keeping upright, but what I saw took my breath away.


    It was the view of Eyress. The cityscape was a constellation of lights, as if each one was a star of Earth. I was in awe of the scene held before me and I felt all my pain and tension ease away as I continued to gaze at the city of lights. It was so absolutely beautiful. You''d have expected me to not be surprised at this kind of thing anymore after experiencing life at the palace, but in truth, this was a totally different kind of magnificence.


    "Nice, ain''t it?" Reynard sighed beside me. "The city looks exceptional in the day but it''s really something else at night."


    "Yeah..." I whispered, my eyes not budging an inch away from the lovely scenic view.


    21st century cities were all so smoky and the skyscrapers were all jam-packed together that one would never be able to enjoy the beauty that is the architecture. But Eyress was so... planned. Every building was placed intentionally in its spot and nothing seemed to be a turn-off. It was something so different from what I usually saw in Daegu and Incheon; absolutely breathtaking with the addition of the golden lights.


    "C''mon, we gotta get moving. It''s almost 9," Reynard said urgently, proceeding to walk towards the right, his cloak all folded up in his arms. I hadn''t seen him take it off, but now he was back to looking like a gentleman but with more scruffier hair.


    Gladly, I walked alongside him as the thought finally started to sink in:


    So this is Freedom.

 Chapter 34 - Lennards

    Thank you all so much for 50 Power Stones! As promised, here''s a Mass Release of two chapters: 34 and 35.


    Enjoy reading and don''t forget to support for further chapters!


    Mass Release 2: 100 Power Stones


    ___________________________


    "Where to?"


    Reynard had a little think before he pulled out a scrunched up piece of paper from his pant''s pocket.


    "I prepared some locations, just in case," he said, holding the paper up for me to see and giving me a smirk. "Not that I thought we''d get this far."


    I grabbed the paper from his hand and against his several protests, started to read it.


    "Wait..." I said slowly, peering at the first option. "I''ve been to this place before. Isn''t that the inn the guy who smokes the smelly stuff runs?"


    Reynard looked at me wide-eyed. "You know Uncle Franke? When did you meet him?"


    "That day at the pond," I said smugly. "So he''s your uncle?"


    "Not my biological uncle, he''s not," Reynard responded nonchalantly as he folded his arms behind his head. "He''s just an old friend of my Father''s. Apparently, Uncle Franke used to babysit him or something."


    "Woah," I laughed, reading off the rest of the locations on the list, none of which I recognized and then folded the paper. "So you think your Uncle Franke won''t object to me staying?"


    He looked at me incredulously. "Of course he will. He''s a chill uncle but he''s not game when it comes to going against the law. He''d rather give up selling ducks at his inn than doing what the imperial law forbids."


    I scowled and grimly handed him back the paper. "So how do we get a room?"


    Reynard took it from me and put it in his pocket. "Let''s start off by changing your hair."


    I unconsciously touched my head. "My hair?"


    "Yeah..." he mumbled, observing it. "Even in the dark it looks so... purple!"


    "Lilac, you dummy!"


    He laughed. "But before we can do anything about that, we need to get you some shelter. Your powers are about to bloom."


    "Reynard, now that we are on the topic of powers," I said as I pulled my hair away from my neck, "I''m starting to feel sick."


    It was true. Since the tower, I had been silently aware of the sudden churning in my head and abdomen. I hadn''t said anything about it as of yet, dismissing it as signs of period sickness or just normal indications of extreme nervousness. But now that we were well away and my mind had started to clear up a bit, the pain had started to sink in.


    "Sick? As in, you''re hurting somewhere?" he asked.


    I nodded, staggering under the weight of the ascending pain.


    "Where does it hurt?" Reynard asked worriedly, stopping in his tracks and turning around. "Hey, tell me, what''s hurting?"


    I groaned as I held my head.


    "You need to tell me something or else I won''t be able to help you."


    This weirdly felt like deja vu, as if someone had asked me that before. But who was that someone, I couldn''t point my finger on itˇ­.


    "Your Highness, talk to me!" Reynard cried desperately as I slumped down on the pavement.


    If I had any strength to speak, I would have. I would''ve told him that my whole body hurt like crazy, that I felt miserable. I would''ve told him that it felt as if I was dying.


    As my consciousness started to fade, I only caught a few snippets of Reynard''s speech as he yelled at me to wake up, constantly patting my sweaty face.


    "I guess it''s time," was one of the last things I heard him mumble before I drifted into a vast void of dark nothingness.


    ?


    When my eyelids finally opened again, which seemed like a long, long time after I had fainted, I was greeted by a soft, golden glow of light.


    "You''re up!"


    I tilted my head slightly and squinted to see who said that. All I saw were a pair of knees.


    It seemed as if I was lying down on a bed. This mattress didn''t feel as soft and plushy as the one I had been accustomed to lately. But a mattress at all was better than none.


    I looked around the room. It appeared as if Reynard had brought me to a cabin of some sort, with wooden planks covering every inch of the small, equal-sided room.


    Reynard bent down in a fashion so that I could see more than his knees. His face bore down over me, blocking all light and for a moment I thought he was mad. Or maybe it was just because his face had been shadowed over. Then he broke out in a smile.


    "Doing good, Your Highness?" he asked as his hand reached down to my forehead.


    "Good, I''d say," I replied, taking in the coolness of his palm. "Care to tell me where we are?"


    He removed his hand and turned away "We''re at Lennard''s."


    I sat up on the support of my elbow which dug into the flimsy white sheet underneath.


    "Who''s Lennard?" I asked.


    Reynard looked up from whatever he was doing by a small table on the far end of the wall, his back to me.


    "He''s one of my buds whom I went to academy with several years ago. Nice guy," he said as he turned around and brought a small finger-sized bottle over to me. "Here, drink this."


    I took the bottle from his hand and gulped down a bitter fluid and shook my head right after. That had certainly woken me up. "What even was that?"


    He took the empty bottle from me. "Lennard''s mum got you some herbal medicine. Good for fevers, she said. I hope it wasn''t too bitter, though."


    I dismissed his concern by a subtle shake of my head.


    My eyes followed Reynard as he walked over to the door and disposed of the bottle in a small basket set right by. "So this Lennard guy, how did he let us in so easily? Why would he do that?"


    He looked up with humor in his eyes but a grim line of a mouth. "I told him you were my girlfriend."


    "WHAT!?" I shook the sheets off, flailing my arms and legs in the air and sat up properly, wincing from the pain it caused. "You told him what?"


    "Oh c''mon," Reynard smirked, "what else could I have said? That you were my sister? My friend? Lennard would''ve never believed that. And the major reason they let us in was because you were a fainted piece of flesh in my arms and I was looking like a worried mother. So deal with it."


    He opened the door and shut it behind him with a satisfying thud. That foolish guy.


    "Stupid..." I muttered at the innocent door.


    Sighing, I tried to regather my scrabbled thoughts. Finally, I was alone so I could look around the room all I wanted. It was a square-shaped room like I said before, with each inch of the walls covered with wooden planks, except for the little rectangle of a window on one wall. I''d call it a pretty bare room as there was none but the bed, a table paired with a chair and the basket by the door. No picture frames, no carpet, nothing else.


    This reminded me of my room back home, though I never even had a proper bed.


    On the far table I could see a tray of food, and I was starving so I tried to stand up but my legs started wobbling not much to my own control and I fell back down on the bed with a thump. I looked down and saw that I was still in Zoie''s uniform and honestly, it had started to irritate my skin very much.


    My hair had been tied up in a bun and had been hidden under the bonnet, making it impossible for an outsider to determine whether I was the princess or not. Good work on Reynard''s side. I waited for him to come back and when he did, he was carrying a glass of water.


    He took the plate of food from the table and brought both things over to me.


    "Here, eat something," he said soberly. "When was the last time you ate?"


    I tried to remember as I picked up a tearable bun from the plate and started nibbling on it. "Breakfast, probably. I was bursting with nerves so I forwent lunch. Martha told me to eat several times but I refused as I was afraid that I''d throw it up or something."


    Reynard watched me dip my bun in the gravy on the plate and chew on it hungrily, with both hands on his hips.


    When he had made sure that I''d gobbled up every morsel of food served to me, he picked the plate and the empty glass of water up and went straight back outside the door. From outside I heard several clinking of plates and distant chatter which I wasn''t able to hear very well.


    When I thought everything was tranquil and my eyelids had started to flutter again, Reynard burst through the door with his palms massaging his temples.


    "They want to meet you," he stressed every word. "Lennard just went out to get some foodstuffs so his mum thinks it''s the best time she could talk to you. She asks if she can come in, since you aren''t in great condition to get up. Should Iˇ­."


    "I''ll be fine," I said reassuringly. "Just give me an alias to go by. And a backstory that we could both match. Like how we met."


    "Right..." he mumbled as he raked a hand through his hair. "Okay so your name''s Sarah, yeah that works."


    I gave him the most disgusted expression ever.


    "What?" he said defensively. "You come up with something better. Come on, do it."


    There had been one name I really liked in Korea which one of my foreign classmates had.


    "Can I go by Ashley?" I asked slowly, thinking over my choice.


    "Ashli?" he pronounced weirdly. "Fine, that''s okay. For your surname, you''ve got to go with Rivers because I told Lennard''s mum that you were Miss Rivers when we arrived."


    My eyebrows snapped together. Though it was uncreative, I didn''t especially dislike the sound of it. "Why that?"


    He was distracted as he peeked out of the door. "First thing that came to mind. Now stop asking questions, Ashli Rivers, Mrs. Dryden is about to step in."


    "But the backstory-"


    "Shh!" he shushed me quickly.


    Sighing, I made sure that not even a single strand of my hair was visible outside the bonnet by quickly doing a double check and beckoned to Reynard to let her in. He nodded and opened the door which creaked slowly till it was sticking against the wall.


    "Aunty, come on in." he invited with a sudden change of tone.. "Ashli is well enough to meet you now."

 Chapter 35 - Faustine Dryden

    I braced myself for the most horridest of women to take a heavy step in through the threshold but was surprised when a tiny, plump woman with curly brown hair hobbled in instead. She had a huge, comforting smile on her wrinkling face and she wiped her hands on the flowery apron she was bearing confidently before sitting down on the chair Reynard offered her.


    "Ashli, is it, love?" she beamed with the voice of a nice, old grandmother. "How''re you feeling, deary?"


    I looked nervously at Reynard who was just standing there, smiling, but his eyes were telling me to answer positively.


    "Very well, madam," I said demurely.


    She laughed heartily before saying, "No need to call me ''Madam'', lovey. That makes me feel old. Just call me Faustine, that''ll suffice."


    I chuckled uncomfortably. "Thank you so much Faustine, for letting us stay a while. Though I have no idea how much we may have inconvenienced you, please excuse us, for Reynard and myself were in a bad spot at the moment."


    "No, no, love," she said, shaking her head. "It''s quite alright. I''ve known this lad since he was a wee child." She pointed towards Reynard who was leaning against the wall. "And to think he''s got himself a sweetheart! My heart cannot be more content. You have no idea how happy we felt for him when he told us about you."


    I spoke through gritted teeth, "And, pray tell, what is it that he may have said about me?"


    She laughed, her cheeks red. "Oh darling, he told us all the good stuff. My son Lennard was bursting with envy by the end of it if I do say so myself. But then again he''s never had his share of luck with love. Anyways, we all knew that sooner or later, Reynard was going to introduce us to his future wife, as after all, he''s very handsome. You''re a lucky girl, dear, I''m sure you know that."


    I looked at Reynard, my eyes flaming. Keeping my expression at this point was proving to be a hard task. "Yes, I am very lucky."


    Faustine suddenly changed her expression as she thought of something. "Ashli, love, is this mischievous boy treating you well? He hasn''t done something to anger you till now, I hope? I would love to apologize on his behalf for we all know how irresponsible he could be sometimes."


    Reynard was practically flashing me alarming signals with his eyes, which of course, I chose to ignore.


    "Yes, you''re absolutely right," I said, sighing dramatically. "Reynard''s such a rash soul. Sometimes I feel like he''s going to do my head in."


    Faustine looked at me sadly, then sighed and sat up properly. "Well, that makes the two of us," she comforted. "Though I''m really sorry, honey. I''ll chastise him about him, so don''t you leave his side, you hear me?"


    I laughed as well, finally at ease. One would''ve thought I really was in love with Reynard, but of course I''d never let that happen. Thank god I didn''t believe in love and the sorts.


    I was about to say something to further tease Reynard when all of us heard a loud clanking and thudding outside the door.


    Faustine began to stand up. "That must be Lennard back from the market," she grunted. "Give us a moment, love. Reynard, sonny, you follow me outside."


    As Faustine and Reynard, who was giving me a sour expression, exited out the door, I lay back on the bed and thought over our conversation. Faustine''s a nice lady, was the conclusion. I was a little shocked when she first addressed me as ''love'' and ''dear'' because nobody had ever called me that and it felt a little weird at first. But then I started to realize that I liked the sound of it. It made me feel loved and cared for.


    Then the door opened again and a haggard man almost Reynard''s age made his entrance. Behind him was Reynard who was pulling him roughly by the collar and muttering something like, ''C''mon, man'' or ''Stoppit, man''.


    But the guy in front seemed to resist his tugs and stayed by the door with a huge grin on his face, studying me. It made my skin crawl.


    "My, what a beauty," he said loudly on purpose. "You scored a good one, my friend," he said, glancing back at Reynard who had begun pulling harder at him and was practically growling now.


    "Lennard. Get. Out," he said angrily.


    "Just a moment, man," Lennard replied gruffly, his hands on the door frame. "So, Ashli Rivers, how''d you decide to go for a guy like him? Was I unavailable or something?"


    "Lennard, this is your last warning," Reynard growled angrily.


    "Givvus a sec, Reyn. So, Ashli, do you actually like him or are you, like, going for none but his looks? Because I can''t imagine someone liking this guy for his personality. He says you''ve known each other for a few months now, so you must know."


    I glanced nervously at Reynard, uncomfortable with Lennard''s questions. Reynard slapped hard on Lennard''s back which made him grunt and turn around.


    "Oi, what gives?" Lennard shouted as he rubbed his back. "I was just talking to her. What''s wrong with talking?"


    "You know what you''re doing, Len. I thought I gave you your warning," he retorted. "Stop disturbing her and get out. Your mom needs you."


    Reluctantly, Lennard shuffled out the room after giving me one suggestive look. Reynard shut the door behind him and leaned against it, exasperated.


    "Sorry for that," he said, raking his hands through his hair. "Lennard''s a bit..."


    I shivered. "Didn''t you say he was a nice guy?"


    "I mean, he usually is..." Reynard was finding it hard to explain. "He just likes to mess around when it involves me. I''m really sorry you had to see him like that but I''m sure he was just giddy upon meeting my first love."


    "Just to be clear," I said, "I am not your first love."


    He looked at me, confused for a moment and then burst out laughing. "I know. You''re much too young to be my first love. I''d say you''re more like a sister to me."


    My tense shoulders finally sagged. "Glad to hear that."


    We had nothing more to talk about so we just remained in silence. Then suddenly, Reynard jerked his head as if he had just remembered something.


    "Powers," he muttered.


    I didn''t quite catch what he said so I asked, "What?"


    He looked up at me, wide-eyed. "Do you feel weird? Any changes in your body? Your divine powers should have awakened by now."


    I opened my mouth to speak but shut it again.


    "Well?" he asked, observing me with his turquoise eyes. "Feel anything? Any surge of power?"


    "Not really..." I shook my head. "I don''t feel any different at all."


    "Really? Nothing out of the ordinary?"


    I shook my head and saw him throw himself on the chair, his head in his hands.


    "This isn''t what''s supposed to happen..." he mumbled into his palms. "You should''ve been able to wield your abilities by now..." He looked at me, locking his gaze with mine. "...whatever they might be..."


    "Oh, come on," I tried to reassure him. "It''s not the end of the world anyways. And besides, isn''t it a good thing? If it appears that I''m not the princess from the prophecy, then there won''t be any need to kill me."


    Reynard didn''t say anything for a long time. He just sat there with his face in his palms.


    I had no idea what he was so worried about. If I hadn''t any powers, then it was a good thing, right? Why then would someone resort to sacrificing me when I wasn''t even the princess from this unreliable 500 year old prophecy?


    Still, I looked at my hands in a new light, as if they could be shooting lasers or fire any moment now. I mean, what else does power mean? Surely, God wouldn''t make me invisible or be able to fly, right? How would that help me benefit the people of Wisteria?


    A few moments later, the door opened and Lennard peeked through, his expression bitter as he scanned the room.


    "Ma says dinner''s ready, so come out and eat," he announced to no one in particular and slammed the door shut.


    Reynard stood up without even so much as giving me a glance and said to the door, "Can you stand up?"


    "Erm..." I said awkwardly. "My legs aren''t quite stable, so I''d say no."


    He sighed and turned on his heel to walk over to me. I lifted my arm so he could pull me up and shoulder-to-shoulder, we walked outside.


    It was the first time I had a chance to step into a normal Wisterian home. I had expected it to be like those old, medieval time houses with cold, hard walls and bare floors but what I saw was much cozier than expected. The house was more like a cabin with plank floors and several decorative tapestries hanging around to give the house a more home-made feel. It was nighttime but the room was lit by lanterns hanging all around the walls, giving the room a golden glow. In the middle of the large floor was an animal fur carpet on which a kid around the age of was sitting and playing with a small wooden-horse toy.


    As expected, there was no TV, no set living room, no bookshelves, though there was a hand-made wooden rack filled with jars and scrolls.


    On the right of the room was a door that probably led to the kitchen as I was able  to smell a lovely aroma of food wafting through there.


    Faustine came through that door with a large tray on top of which was a whole boar''s head which was decorated with delicately cut vegetables and an apple in its mouth. My wide eyes followed her plump figure as she walked swiftly to the table which was set by the far wall and placed the tray smack-dab in the middle.


    Then she proceeded to wipe her hands on her apron and when she looked at me, her face broke out in a huge smile.


    "Ashli, darling," she beamed. "Come take a seat! I made something special since you''re here. Got to leave a good impression on you, no?" She continued to laugh heartily as she lit the candles and set the cutlery.


    I looked nervously up at Reynard who was greedily eyeing the meat. I, too, decided to take a look at it and almost threw up. It still looked so incredibly alive with its eyes and tusks, though a little burnt.


    Reynard walked me over to the table and sat me down on the head seat of the rectangular table. When I protested, Faustine gently calmed me down and told me that she had actually wanted me to sit at the head since it was my first meal with them.


    Everyone started to pull out their seats and sat down, and after a small prayer (which I knew not a word of) everyone started to dig in.


    I was still looking at the boar''s head, equally entranced and disgusted by it, when Faustine, who was sitting right by me, started slicing into the poor boar and placed a large chunk of meat on my plate.


    "Dig in, love."

 Chapter 36 - According To Plan

    So the thing was, I had never tried boar. I hadn''t any idea how it tasted and after looking at the source, I didn''t want to know either.


    "Why aren''t you eating?" Reynard whispered as he cut into his slice of meat. "Is it undercooked?" He inspected his own portion by stabbing it and shrugged when he realized it was fine.


    "It''s not that..." I whispered back, aware of all the eyes on me. When Faustine had finished filling everyone''s plates, she saw me hesitating and furrowed her eyebrows in confusion.


    Faustine smiled. "Everything alright, dear?"


    I smiled back, hoping my expression gave nothing away.


    "Everything''s fine," I said, drawling my words out and reluctantly bit into the food right after. I thought eating a couple bites would be enough to suffice Faustine''s maternal instincts. But when the meat''s spices started to melt onto my tongue, I couldn''t stop myself from taking another bite. It was the most flavorful thing I had ever tasted, so rich in spices and the delicious smoky flavor!


    Faustine was looking at me hopefully and when she saw my eyes roll back with pleasure, she started to laugh.


    "Good?" she asked, finally starting her own meal.


    My mouth was filled to the top with food so I just mumbled a reply which seemed to satisfy her.


    Lennard and Reynard, who both sat side-by-side, were scarfing down every morsel on their plate. Honestly, I couldn''t blame them. I noticed that the little kid who had been playing with his toy earlier didn''t touch his food yet and was staring at me intently.


    "Ma," he whispered loudly to Faustine, his eyes still on me, "is that Reyn''s girlfriend?"


    I almost choked on my food which was followed by a series of coughs and a swift Reynard supplied me with a glass of water.


    "Yes, baby," Faustine answered. "That''s her alright. Ain''t she pretty?"


    The boy didn''t answer. Instead he said, "Why''s she wearing that ugly hat?"


    My mouth stopped chewing. I looked nervously at Reynard who had also paused eating, looking open mouthed at the little boy as meat juice dribbling down the side of his mouth. The kid was treading on very thin ice at the moment which could be dangerous for both Reynard and me.


    With a mouthful of vegetables, Lennard decided to speak up amidst the tense silence, little bits of food flying in every direction. "Ay wash wonjuring je shame shing," he hollered but when he saw all the disgusted faces of the people around him, he swallowed hard and repeated the same sentence. "I was wondering the same thing. I mean, why''s she dressed up in the maid uniform meant for the palace employees? Pretty suspicious if she''s here instead of attending at the princess''s ceremony up at the palace."


    I parted lips to answer, but shut them again. What do I even say? He was right. Reynard was finding it hard to answer as well as he clenched and unclenched his fingers around his cutlery.


    Then Faustine stepped in to save the day as she smacked at her son across the table.


    "Don''t be so rude, Lennard," she said to him and then turned to her other son. "And you too, Cael. That was very mean of you to ask. She can wear anything she wants, whether it be her hat or her maid''s dress."


    Cael buried his face into his chest and didn''t speak for the rest of the meal to the point I started feeling bad for him, though nobody else seemed to care. After clearing away the plates, Faustine came back with a large bowl of something yellow and jiggly.


    "Dessert is served," she said proudly as she set the bowl in the middle of the table. Lennard immediately bounced on it but his hands retreated as Faustine smacked them with a wooden spoon. "Oi," she said sternly, "let Ashli get a taste first. Go on, darling."


    Lennard grumbled as I shuffled forward to get a chunk out of the bowl''s contents and looked at it as a predator does to its prey. I had the good sense to do it quickly.


    When everybody had a chunk of jiggly yellowness on their plate and had seated down, we started eating. I didn''t know how one ate it but I sliced it with my fork and took a bite of it, surprised at how sweet and soft it was. It reminded me of those cup jellies Jieum and I used to buy at the local convenience store after school. Soon enough, my plate had been wiped clean.


    "Aunty," Reynard said as he helped Faustine clean away the plates, "can Ashli stay here for the night?"


    Oh God.


    He had finally put out the dreaded question. I pursed my lips in wait of a reply.


    Faustine looked up alarmed, from Reynard''s face to mine and then back at his again. "Whyˇ­?" she asked slowly. "Won''t Ashli''s mother be worried for her?"


    "It''s alright," I chirped in, a bit disappointed on the inside. "I can-"


    "No, no," Reynard interrupted. "She can''t go home today, Aunty. Her mother is..." I could practically see the wheels in his head turn as he thought of an excuse. "She''s currently at the health center."


    I rolled my eyes but it seemed that Faustine had bought his lie because she stood there with her trembling hands to her mouth.


    "Oh no!" she said worriedly. "What happened to her?"


    "She''s been having this big stomach bug recently. It just got a lot worse today so I had to call Reynard so we could take her to the Center."


    Reynard sighed with relief and continued the fib. "Yes! And because there was no one else at her cottage, I advised her that it''d be best if she stayed with someone I know so she won''t feel lonely, at least."


    The look Faustine gave me almost made me feel bad for lying. But at this point, I''d do anything to ensure my survival.


    Faustine looked confused. "Why didn''t you take her to your house?"


    "Ah..." Reynard was stuck. "We didn''t have any spare rooms, Aunty. And honestly, my family doesn''t know about her...yet. And I would prefer if you keep it that way."


    She gave him a disapproving glare but didn''t question his judgment.


    "What about her father?" Faustine asked, still perturbed as she glanced at me.


    Before Reynard could conjure up another lie, I said, convincingly enough, "He passed away a couple years ago." I held my head for extra effect.


    Faustine came around the table and hugged me tightly.


    "Aw, my love," she said as she parted, "you can stay as long as you want. Reynard, will you be staying with her?"


    He scratched his head, thinking. "I won''t," he said finally. "Mother must be waiting for me to return. And Rosa, too. I can''t leave them alone now since Father''s working up at the palace."


    "Oh yes," she sighed. "Send Amice all my love, that poor soul. And thank Rosa for the lovely pot she sent me last week. I haven''t gotten around to that lately."


    "Sure will," Reynard laughed and came towards me with his arms extended as if to hug me. I inched away, alarmed, but his expression made me give in. It seemed that he wanted to tell me something important.


    "If you feel like your powers are surfacing at any time of the night," he whispered in my ear, "ask Aunty to get me. I''ll come by promptly, alright?"


    "Yeah, okay," I said just as quietly.


    Reynard separated from me and with another hug to Faustine and a back-slap to Lennard who was in the kitchen gobbling up the leftovers, he left.


    Faustine and I were all alone at the table.


    "Let me help you up," she said as she put the rag down with which she had been scrubbing the table with and put her arms under mine, lifting me up. Carefully, we walked over to the same, tiny room where I had woken up and I was sat down on the bed.


    "There!" Faustine said. "If you need anything, don''t feel ashamed to call out to me. I''ll make sure Lennard doesn''t come in here, okay sweetie? So rest assured."


    I thanked her for everything once again and watched her as she walked out before shutting the door behind her. Finally alone, I laid back on the bed with a full stomach, hearing the calm rustling of leaves from outside the window. As my eyes started to close, I thought about how my day had gone.


    I felt a little sad that I didn''t get to see Christabel in her white gown and didn''t get to say goodbye to her or Lorelei. Or even Martha.. But I drifted off to sleep, thinking if it was all for the best.

 Chapter 37 - Late Night Torment

    I woke up in the middle of the night, drenched in sweat.


    I was struggling for breath, my hand tightened around my neck. It was so suffocating in the tiny room. I flailed off the white blanket off of me, my eyes bugging out of their sockets as I walked across the room, trying to pull at the door. It was no use as I hadn''t any strength in me. Walking had been a task of its own.


    I wanted to call out to Faustine. I opened my mouth to yell, but no sound came out. Only quick, heavy exhales managed to escape. I felt like I was on the brink of death.


    I heard somewhere that when a person was about to die, their life''s good memories flashed across their eyes in those last moments. Maybe it was a good sign that I didn''t even see a single flash. All I cared about at the moment, as I laid on the wooden floor, was my life.


    I desperately wanted to live.


    A week or two ago, I was prepared to die in a world where Jieum and Juwon weren''t by my side. But the thought had gradually started to settle in that maybe, just maybe, they were better off without me.


    With my constantly blurring vision, I tried to seek out the window. There, I saw a glint of light. The moon. It was the moon.


    As if hypnotized, my legs moved on their own accord towards the glimmer of light. I crawled over to the window, the escaping hair from my bonnet matted against my forehead and my neck. From the support of the window''s ledge, I hauled myself up, parted the curtains and threw open the glass, taking in a gulp of air. But it was of no use as my throat was clenched.


    I was going through pure pain. My muscles were aching and my mouth was dry. I yearned for water as I stood by the ledge with wobbly legs.


    Then it hit me. Reynard. I needed Reynard. He''d know what to do.


    Again, I crawled over to the door and started to hit it. My hands didn''t wield much strength at the moment but by pure will, I smacked at the door again and again, hoping that someone would hear the weak sounds and come check up on me.


    But after a few moments, it became clear that no one was coming.


    With tears in my eyes, I dropped onto the cold, hard floor and closed my eyes while focusing on my oxygen intake. I tried to control my breathing with a steady hand on my throat but sadly, it wasn''t working.


    The fact that I was alone was making my condition worse. In the dark, only the crickets kept me company.


    Ah, I just wanted to somehow open up my chest and let in some fresh air. I panted for breath as I clenched my chest, wishing that God would help me because this really (really) did feel like the end.


    Suddenly, when I thought I was at my worst, things started to go even more downhill. I started to lose my vision. "N-noˇ­!" I croaked, trying to keep holding onto my consciousness. It felt like there was a thread or a sharp hair stuck in my throat, hurting me more and more, and I desperately tried to gulp it down to keep the pain away.


    Then I justˇ­ gave up. I let go of any hope I had been holding onto by the end of the red string. The red string of fate had started to drift away and just when I thought all was lost, I saw something.


    It was a light.


    Suddenly, I was surrounded by a calming, cold air. My throat started to open up and a gush of oxygen rushed through my lungs. It was as if I had suddenly been thrown into heaven. The aches in my muscles faded away and my mouth started to wet up. I wasn''t hot anymore, there was no sweat on me at all. I finally felt at peace.


    And before I knew it, I passed out.


    ?


    I heard muffled voices as my mind came to consciousness.


    "Why was she on the floor?" someone whispered.


    A woman replied, with a  hint of worry in her voice, "My guess is as good as yours."


    I twisted my head towards the direction of the sounds and upon fluttering open my eyelids, I was instantly met by two worried faces .


    Reynard was standing by the bed, bearing over me as he observed my face. Behind him, Faustine was standing with her hands on her mouth and she cried out as she met my eyes.


    "Ashli, my dear," she said as she came to hug me. She didn''t need to crouch to do so as she was already very short.


    "What happenedˇ­?" I squinted at Reynard, still not fully awake.


    Reynard backed up and stood with his hands on his hips. "You were sprawled all over the floor when I came this morning. I should be the one asking what happened."


    "Ah..." I mumbled as the memories of last night started coming back.


    "I know, I''m so sorry," Faustine cried as she parted from me. "I''m certain it''s all my fault. I should''ve prepared a better bed for her. I know how hard and uncomfortable it is, so much that she had to succumb to sleeping on the floor. I''m so, so sorry, love."


    "No, not at all," I said, alarmed as my hands went up in surrender. "The bed was fine. I think I just must''ve fallen off it in the middle of the night. It''s no fault of yours at all."


    "You fell?" Reynard asked doubtfully.


    I replied firmly, "Yeah."


    He narrowed his eyes, still suspicious. "All the way near the door?"


    "Mm-hmm..." I mumbled as I sat up, my hands instinctively going to my hair, thankful that none of it was exposed. If I remember last night, My hair had been all over the place.


    "Your High- Ashli..." Reynard said, his tone softening. Then he turned to Faustine. "Aunty, could you please give us a moment alone?"


    "Sure, you two lovebirds," Faustine replied as she simultaneously gave us both a suggestive look and hobbled out the door, closing it softly behind her.


    When we were finally alone, Reynard turned to me.


    "So what really happened?


    I couldn''t meet his eyes. "I don''t know what you mean."


    "Your Highness," he said as he crouched down in front of me, forcing me to match his gaze. "You can talk to me, you know."


    I sighed, finally giving in. "I think something happened last night," I said slowly. "At first I thought I was dying, but then- I don''t know how to explain itˇ­.it was quite out of the ordinaryˇ­."


    "So, something unnatural happened to you last night," he said as he thought it over. "Something unnatural...related to your powers, perhaps?"


    Something about my expression must have given it away because his eyes widened as he spoke.


    "So something really did happen," he whispered. "What''s your power then?"


    I stuttered, "I-I don''t knowˇ­ I don''t know what happened last night.... Everything was such a blurˇ­"


    "Explain everything to me in detail," he said as he inched closer. "Tell me everything that happened."


    With an inhale of air, I started to tell him all about the ordeal last night. How I woke up, what went through my mind, how I was unable to breathe, how nobody heard me as I weakly hit the door and how I was about to give in to my fate when suddenly...everything was okay.


    He listened to me very closely and with great interest and when I finally finished, he sat back on the floor, his thoughts elsewhere.


    "Pain...healing..." he was muttering to himself. "It seems as if you''ve got some sort of healing power, if I''m not wrong."


    "Whatˇ­?" I said unbelievably. "That''s not very cool."


    "What were you expecting?" he laughed.


    "I wanted to at least be able to fly," I said into my chest, "like superman or something."


    He tilted his head, confused. "Superman? What''s that?"


    I looked at him as if he had gone crazy and then I realized that Superman hadn''t been created yet. Bummer.


    "So," I said, dismissing his question, "my power allows me to only heal myself? How was I supposed to help others, then? Because the prophecy said-"


    "I am aware," he broke in. "But we haven''t tested the boundaries of your newly-born divine powers yet, so we don''t know how far they can go. But nonetheless, isn''t it exciting?"


    "Ah, I don''t know for sure yet," I said, peering at my hands, who had just last night saved my life. "But I guess it is quite fortunate. Now I can''t get hurt anymore!"


    It was as if I just got the news that I was immortal. It was getting quite giddy.


    "Hold your horses, princess," Reynard grunted as he stood up off the floor. "Don''t go getting yourself into dangerous situations now. We have no idea if that really even was your power or just God''s mercy. So we need to test it first."


    I narrowed my eyes. "How?"


    Just then, right before my eyes, Reynard scraped his fingernail on his forearm, leaving behind a long, bloody cut.


    "Like this."

 Chapter 38 - Keep Your Hair On

    "Are you crazy!?" I shrieked as I leaped forward, getting a hold of his injured arm. "Why the hell would you do that?"


    "To test your abilities," he said as he gave me a sidelong glance. "Don''t worry for I can tolerate this much pain. Now try to heal this."


    "What?" I asked incredulously. "How do you want me to do that? On command?"


    He sighed. "Just focus all your strength towards this one cut. And...release it!"


    I gave him a look that implied he was crazy.


    "Try it!" he urged, thrusting his arm forward.


    "Reynard, you''re giving me a hard time believing that you''re sane," I hissed worriedly as I watched the blood drip down his arm onto my skirt.


    Reynard didn''t reply.


    I knew what he wanted me to do. I knew it very well...but I hadn''t any idea how to do it. Shifting my weight from one leg to another, I cleared my throat and hesitantly focused on the bleeding.


    "I''ll start now," I said quietly, my head dipping lower.


    Reynard remained silent but I could feel his eyes on me.


    I cleared my throat once again and gripped his forearm, my eyes widening as I focused with all my strength toward the heart of the injury. The more I looked, the more I discovered about the cut which had looked like a mere red line from a distance. Against his tan skin, the blood didn''t look much red. It would have looked real bright if I had been the one scraped instead of him. The cut wasn''t too deep as it had been made by his nails. I wanted to move my gaze to his fingers so I could see how long his nails actually were, but I kept staring steadfastly at the blood dripping slash.


    I kept thinking ''Heal! C''mon heal up!'' but nothing happened. I gazed more intently at it, my eyes widening further up to the point it started hurting. I dared not blink, I dared not breathe...I just kept observing it and willing it to heal.


    ''Heal, heal, c''mon...'' I whispered under my breath, gripping at his forearm tighter, not even noticing that he had just winced. I was so immersed, but after a couple moments, it was clear that nothing was going to happen.


    I removed one hand to brush the bonnet''s frills out of my eyes and it just so happened that a piece of my hair dropped onto his arm. Both of us noticed it and I was about to pick it up when suddenly, the hair started to glow white as it came in contact with the cut and before our very eyes, the slash started healing up.


    Little by little, the skin started coming together and the blood started to vanish until his arm was all healed up...giving the impression that nothing ever even happened. As the last thread of skin merged together, the little hair vanished into thin hair.


    It felt like my eyes were going to pop out of their sockets. Stunned, I looked up and saw that Reynard was gaping at his arm as well.


    "What just happenedˇ­?" I asked, dazed.


    Reynard lifted his eyes which came in contact with mine and widened further.


    "You''ve done it, Ashli Rivers," he whispered. "You''ve just gone and done it."


    "B-but how..."


    He shook his head and held his own arm, looking it up and down. "It seems that your hair played the most major role in the healing process. Guess it was special after all."


    My hand instinctively went up to my head, feeling it in a new light. Now that I remember it, last night My hair had also been escaping out of the bonnet''s loose ties. It could have been that my hair had triggered the pain in my chest to ease. The light I saw before I had felt at ease yesterday...was it the light emitted by my stray hair strands?


    "Anyways," Reynard grunted as he stood up off the floor, "keep your hair safe, do you understand?" He smirked as he walked towards the door. "And don''t try to chop it off like you did that one time."


    I sprang off the floor, my face red. "Wait, how do you even know that?"


    He gave me a sidelong glance, standing in the doorway, "When it''s my father you go out with, word gets out." And with that, he vanished beyond the threshold.


    I sprawled my legs on the wooden floor and fanned my face with my hands, the same hands which I thought had magical abilities. The only difference was that it was my hair which possessed the curative powers.


    My eyes moved down Zoie''s brown skirt till they reached the small blood drop which was still there. It was the only proof of the existence of my divine powers and the only way to tell that something extraordinary did happen.


    Suddenly, I noticed Faustine pop her head through the doorway.


    "You alright, love?" she asked, her forehead creasing as she looked at my figure against the bedside.


    "Yes," I answered, smiling, as I stood up and patted my dress. "I''ll be out in a second."


    "Sure, hon, no hurry," she said distractedly as she looked at something in the living room. "Cael, get off the table! That''s where our food goes, not you and your toys. Get off this instant!"


    heard a faint grumble and a scraping of wood against the floor. While that happened, Faustine turned to me.


    "It''s good to see that you''re doing well on your legs now." She smiled heartily. "Eggs for breakfast. I''m about to set the table, so it''d be best if you clean yourself up and come out in a minute or two or else they''ll get cold. Your love''s already seated."


    I tilted my head, confused. "My loveˇ­?"


    "Why, Reynard, of course!" she exclaimed and went away, laughing.


    ***


    Breakfast consisted of a plate topped with two sunny-side-up eggs sprinkled with salt, a large chunk of the leftover meat from last night, some vegetables for the side and a cup of tea. Quite different from what I got used to eating at the palace but delicious nonetheless.


    Afterwards, I helped Faustine clear the table against her many protests and even wiped down the table while Faustine tried to bathe little Cael.


    The only problem was that Lennard was still sitting at the table and was observing me as I cleaned the table with a spare dishcloth.


    "You really are very beautiful," he mumbled under his breath, making sure Reynard didn''t hear him as he stood in the room I slept in, checking the labels on the several bottles of medicine Faustine had brought in earlier today. The door was wide open so Lennard knew he was in Reynard''s line of sight, though he did not care at all.


    "What?" I hissed when I heard his remark.


    He stretched his arms behind his head before settling back in the chair. "What?" He mocked my tone. "Don''t girls like you like it when any other guy compliments you?"


    I looked at him, taken aback. "Where''s all this coming from?" I demanded.


    "Well," he grunted, as he put his arms behind his head, "I find it a bit unfair that Reynard got you when I''m way older than him. How did you even meet a guy like him?"


    I didn''t answer, so he continued talking,


    "And he says it''s been quite a long while you''ve both known each other," he said, scratching his chest. "But I''ve yet to see a genuine connection between you supposed lovebirds. Are you sure you guys are a real item?"


    "None of your business," I said quietly, trying to scrub at the table quicker. "Get up," I told him. "I need to clean that bit of the table where you''re sitting."


    He flattened himself against the back of his chair, hands up. "Here, do it." He smirked.


    I threw the rag against the table and walked away. I''m not going to deal with creeps like him, no way. I''d rather the table clean itself.


    "What''s up?" Reynard said as I approached him.


    "Deal with your ''friend'', man," I sighed, leaning against the wall. "I can''t always be fighting against the urge to punch his teeth in."


    Reynard looked at me wide-eyed, his mouth parting slightly. My hands went up to my mouth as swift as lightning when the words I had just spoken started registering. For a second, I had forgotten I was a princess.


    Chuckling awkwardly, I dismissed my recent comment as focused on something else.


    "Reynard, do something about my hair."


    "Like what?" he asked, his attention back on the medicine.


    I sighed. "I can''t always pull it off by hiding all of it under this flimsy hat," I said. "And I need new clothes as well. I fear that your friend has started suspecting us."


    "Really?" he said, putting the labelled bottles back on the table. "Well, isn''t that interesting?"


    "Right?" I smiled. "I thought he was plain dumb, but looks like he''s got some brains to him."


    We both laughed it out for a second or two, oblivious of Lennard''s suspicious glare all the way from the table.


    "Okay, I''ll see what I can do about your clothes and your hair today," he said after a while. "I need some work to get done so I''ll be leaving now. Make sure to stay well away from Lennard and help Aunty around the house a bit, Your Highness," he said. "Even if you don''t like it. We have to create the impression that you, in fact, really are Ashli Rivers and not the imperial Crown Princess. You got all that?"


    "Yes," I answered like a student does to its teacher.


    "And I bet," he said again, "that Lennard''s got his own matters to attend to, so you need not worry much about running into him. Don''t leave the house and don''t show your hair at any cost. Protect it with your life. Alright, I''m going now, tell Aunty that I left."


    He walked across the living room, said something to Lennard because of which he finally got off the table and both of them left together through the door that led outside.


    After a second or two, Faustine made an appearance.


    "Was that the door I just heard shutting?" she asked, drenched with sweat and water.


    "Yes," I said and smiled as I turned around. "The guys just left. Want me to help you with Cael?"

 Chapter 39 - Trouble With Cael

    Cael was a handful, to be honest.


    "Hey! Get down, get down!" I screamed as a naked and wet Cael charged at me. "Eek! Faustine-"


    "Cael," Faustine said sternly. "How bad can you be? Sit down so Ashli could pour water over you or you''ll get soap in your eyes."


    Cael refused to sit still and ran around the little bathroom with his toy-horse, splashing me and Faustine in the process. At this point I was so drenched already, I started to not care. I let the water splashes hit my face helplessly as Cael laughed and Faustine shrieked.


    "Cael Lionel Dryden," Faustine said as she stood up off the bathroom floor. "Enough is enough. You''ve been giving me so much trouble since yesterday, God knows why. Give me that god-forsaken toy. Now."


    Cael stopped in his tracks. "But why momma?" He pouted. "I''m not gonna give you my horse."


    She gave him the stink-eye which frightened even me. "Cael!"


    Reluctantly, Cael handed her his beloved toy and flopped down on the floor next to me. For a moment, I just sat there, tight-lipped, not knowing what to do, then I realized it''d be best if we could get this all over with quickly so I started pouring the cups of water on Cael''s head, afraid that he''ll object again.


    He didn''t say anything as we got done with his bath and Faustine wrapped him up in a towel.


    "There!" she said, after he had been fully dressed. "Look how quickly the bath got over with once you settled down Here," she thrusted a hand towards him, "you can have your horse back now."


    His face suddenly broke out in a huge grin and he grabbed his toy and went into the living room to play again.


    "He''s a simple kid," I said, chuckling.


    "Isn''t he," Faustine laughed as well but when her eyes turned to me, her little gasp made me look her way. "Love, you''re drenched! And so am I. Do you have any spare clothes?"


    I shook my head.


    "Not to worry," she said reassuringly. "I''ll lend you a dress of mine in the meantime. I''ll ask Reynard to go get your garments from your home once he returns."


    I followed Faustine into her room. It was the first time I was stepping through the little door next to mine. Her room was identical to the one I was assigned, though slightly larger. Against the main wall was a fairly large double bed which was neatly made, along with a bedside table on one side. There was a window similar to mine and a lean wooden cupboard with brass handles. There was a rectangular worn out carpet on the floor and a few scraps of paper with kid''s drawings on it. It felt like a very homely room.


    Faustine walked over the carpet towards the cupboard and opened it with a flourish. Displayed inside were a few dresses, some in good condition and some sad ones with patches and threads coming out. Faustine hummed as she fingered the dresses and picked out a long, puffy sleeved brown dress with a very large waist.


    "This''ll do," she said as she handed me the dress. "Is it long enough?"


    "Um..." It was long enough according to Faustine as she was a bit on the short side, but it only stretched out to the middle of my legs. It was a bit inappropriate for me if we took the standards of this day and age in to account, but it''s no comparison to the flashy attires of the 21st century. Martha would most certainly faint if she saw them. The mere thought made me chuckle.


    "Why are you laughing, love?" Faustine said as she smiled, confused.


    "Oh, no matter," I said, quickly composing myself. "The dress is fine, Faustine, though it''s a tad bit on the shorter side."


    Her expression became worried.


    "Though that won''t be much of a problem!" I said quickly. "Do you have any long pants?"


    She tilted her head in confusion. "Are you proposing that you wear gents'' pants?"


    "Can I not?"


    She glanced at me worriedly. "That isn''t exceptional behavior from a lovely lady like yourself..."


    "Never said I was a lady," I pointed out, smiling.


    She gave me a disapproving look but then started laughing. "Sure, I like that. Let''s get you fitted in a pair of Lennard''s old pants, because that''s all we can manage right now."


    I cringed but nonetheless I still waited for her to fetch them from where they were stored. Soon she hobbled back in with a pair of folded grey pants with checkered patches on the knees.


    I slipped them on along with the dress, making sure the bonnet remained unmoved.


    "There," Faustine said when I had changed into the dry garments. "You look a comic!"


    "Haha," I chuckled lamely, peering down at myself. Zoie''s felt shoes had already worn out and when Faustine noticed, she opened her cupboard again and brandished a couple of leather peep-toe flats.


    "Here, slip these on," she said as she handed me the pair.


    I did so and finally sighed with relief to no longer be wearing dripping clothes.


    "Mind taking off your bonnet?" Faustine said suddenly, pointing onwards my head. "That''s quite wet too. Give it here so I could dry everything off for you."


    "Um...no thank you!" I said, inching backwards. "I''d prefer keeping it on."


    I knew that Faustine wanted to ask further questions but she shrugged and left through the door of her room after telling me that I should rest for a bit.


    Sighing, I went to my assigned room and after I had made sure the door was tightly shut, I took off the hat and let my slightly wet hair free. It felt so much better now that the heavy weight had been let down.


    I went up to the window and opened it so that some natural air could be let in. I hung the limp bonnet on the sill and settled back in Lennard''s crinkling pants. I noticed that my skin was showing through the several holes along the poorly sewn patches. I unconsciously poked my knee through the tiny holes while I waited for the bonnet to dry.


    I must''ve not heard the door open when it did, but I felt someone pat my leg a moment later. Startled, I turned around and panicked when I saw Cael standing there accompanied by his toy horse.


    "Woah..." he mumbled as his eyes swept over my hair.


    "Cael-" The word choked on me.


    He gaped at me in all my glory, my hair sweeping back and forth because of the oncoming spells of wind.


    "You''ve got unicorn hair..." he muttered after a while. "Shiny. Like a unicorn."


    "Ah, yes about that," I said desperately, thinking about unsuspicious excuses. "This isn''t my real hair. It''s fake. Yeah, that''s right, it''s all fake."


    "It doesn''t look fake."


    "But it is!" I said as I crouched in front of him. "Cael, listen to me. You mustn''t ever tell anyone about my hair, okay? You mustn''t."


    He tilted his head innocently, his large eyes glistening. "But why?"


    "It''s a surprise!" I said, my eyes darting towards the door. "It''s a surprise for Reynard. You know Reynard, right? It''s a surprise for him. He loves this color so I got my hair colored like this to surprise him. So don''t tell anyone, okay?"


    "Or else it''ll ruin the surprise?"


    I sighed with relief. "Yes! Exactly. So you must keep it a secret."


    "What do I get?" he asked suddenly.


    I flinched. "What?"


    "What do I get for keeping your secret?"


    Somewhere, I felt a nerve popping. Was this kid seriously bargaining with me?


    "What do you want?"


    He looked left and right before leaning in close and whispering, "TWO horse toys."


    "Deal."


    He gave me a small thumbs up with his tiny, chubby hand and silently escaped through the door.


    I flopped back on the bed with a thumping heart, the sweat on my face making my hair stick to my face. I put a hand over my heart to calm it down while I nervously kept an eye on the door.


    Good Godˇ­


    "That could''ve gone very wrong," I mumbled.


    I was starting to calm down when the door opened again.

 Chapter 40 - Absolutely Strange

    "Get out!" I shouted towards the door as it creaked on its hinges and swiftly lifted the bedsheet on top of my head. "Get out, get out!"


    The door stopped its creak midway and for a moment, everything was still. Then I heard a shuffling sound and then a voice.


    "Your Highness, it''s just me."


    Slowly, I peeked over the sheets and was relieved to see a confused Reynard standing behind the door.


    "May I come inˇ­?" he asked when he had confirmed I wasn''t going to lash out again.


    Embarrassed, I nodded and he took a step in before closing the door.


    "Okay so," he began, "I brought you some clothes..." And then he looked up at me and then did a double take. "What in the God''s name are you wearing?"


    "Oh this?" I said as I peered down at my clothes. "Yes, this is the result of what you may call ''a lack of my own clothes''. So what have we got?"


    "O-Oh yeah," he stuttered, caught off guard. He was holding a rucksack which he pulled open and brandished from it a pile of scrunched up fabric. "I made a quick trip home and managed to sneak out a couple of Rosa''s dresses. Here, this one''s supposedly for casual wear...and this blue one can be worn outside, I think...and this-"


    "But won''t your sister notice?" I broke in as I grabbed garment after garment. "Won''t she ask you where you took all her stuff?"


    "Oh, rest assured," he answered after processing my question. "She''s rarely home so she''ll never notice. Besides, she usually wears this one dress."


    While I checked through the clothes, I asked, "Why isn''t your sister usually home?"


    "She''s an artisan, as they call it. Quite a well known potter here, if I do say so myself. You might even run into her stall at the Market."


    "Oh I''d like to meet her very much!" I said as I put down a grey blouse. "I''ve heard quite a bit about her."


    "Oh really?" he asked, his forehead creasing. "Where from?"


    "Just...here and there."


    He shrugged and handed me the rest of the clothes and a pair of of shoes similar to the ones I was already wearing. When the handover was done, I broke it out to him.


    "Cael saw my hair."


    "What?" asked Reynard, flinching.


    I pursed my lips, observing his reaction as he registered my words. His eyebrows furrowed several times before he looked at me and opened his mouth to speak.


    "Did he match the pieces?"


    I shook my head. "I don''t think he''s ever seen me before. The first thing he said after looking at my hair was that they looked like that of a unicorn''s."


    "Why a unicorn?"


    I shrugged. "But don''t worry. I talked him out of it," I said as I got up and went to check up on the bonnet. It was slightly damp but I put it over my head anyways after curling my hair up in a makeshift bun. "I think we''re in the clear right now, so we needn''t worry much. Anyways, I meant to ask..."


    He gestured to me with his hands to go on.


    "How''s the situation up at the palace? What''s become of Zoie?" I completed it slowly. "She''s fine, right?"


    Reynard shifted his weight from one leg to the other as he answered my query.


    "Don''t fret," he said. "She''s perfectly fine. Though she would be when she never went to the ballroom anyways." He mumbled that last part but I still caught it.


    "What do you mean ''she never went to the ballroom''? Wherever else did she go after we departed?"


    He opened his mouth to answer but closed it. Then he opened it again, like a fish. "She knocked out the guard and made a run for it."


    What the hell. "She what?"


    "Like I said, she-"


    "SHE KNOCKED OUT THE GUARD? ZOIE DID?"


    He nodded in confirmation.


    I flopped down on the bed, a hand on my forehead as I thought about what I had just been told. Little, frail Zoie had knocked out the guard who was supposed to escort me back to the ballroom. She had, like, knocked him unconscious. But how? And then she made a run for it??? What in the worldˇ­


    I looked up with alarmed eyes at Reynard who was rubbing his hands along the side of the table, looking at it with all his focus. When I called him, he startled a bit as he removed his hands and stood up straight to answer me.


    "So how are things looking for my Father? Has he successfully yet my absence? But I dare say that won''t be quick since he wasn''t at the ceremony in the first place."


    "You''re right," Reynard said as he pulled out the chair and sat down. "It hasn''t officially been announced that you''ve disappeared yet. Your maid..."


    "Martha."


    "Yes her, Martha. She''s in hysterics. Lady Sumner has been trying to soothe her, reassuring her that you might just be hiding within the palace perimeter. Guards have been- erm- looking for you, though they still haven''t come down to the the streets yet."


    The fact that Martha was so worried made me feel sort of uneasy; I wasn''t used to people worrying after me. And now I have another thing to worry about as well. The guards have been looking for me? Well that didn''t come as much of a surprise but the fact that they''d soon be roaming the streets in search of the runaway princess made me wary.


    "What else..." I mumbled, still a pang of worry in my heart. "How''s Yvonne faring? Any other news from her?"


    Reynard fiddled with his hands. "She said Good Luck."


    That''s it? "Is that it?"


    "That''s it."


    "Okay."


    For the longest of moments, I had nothing else to talk to him about. Faustine knocked on the door and peeked in.


    "Everything alright, dearies?"


    I flashed her a thumbs up. "Just talking, Faustine."


    She smiled at me and then glared at Reynard who smiled back.


    "You," she said to him. "Be nice to her." And then she slammed the door shut.


    "You heard her," I said to him.


    "What?"


    I tilted my head innocently. "Be nice to me."


    He coughed and looked away, gazing out the window. Then I remembered something.


    "Reynard," I said. "Hey, Reynard."


    He looked at me.


    "Before I collapsed yesterday, you said we''d do something about my hair. What did you have in mind?"


    "Oh..." His eyebrows eased back as he realized what I was talking about. "I thought dyeing it would be a good idea. But I''m having second thoughts now."


    "How come?" I asked.


    "Because," he made a rounding gesture with his hands, "your hair might play the most important part in the healing process. We don''t want to coat your head with dye and then find out that your hair can''t do anything anymore."


    "Shall we experiment first?" I asked with a smile. "We can try by coloring a few strands and see if they''re still able to heal." I had always wanted to dye my hair. I wasn''t up much for the feminine lilac tone of the princess''s. I desired something more...butch.


    He seemed hesitant to my request but after a bit more pursuing, he gave in.


    "Wait here and change into something less clown-like while I go grab some dye from the nearest store. I won''t be long. Make sure to cover your head at all costs," he said before he left. This guy had too much time to spare.


    But I didn''t. I needed to see if Cael had kept quiet about our promise.


    Softly, I tiptoed over to the door to check up on him and Faustine. Cael was nowhere in sight, but Faustine was out the back hanging her own and Cael''s wet clothes. She noticed me and called me over.


    "Reyn''s left?" she asked as she threw a small shirt over the rope. .


    I nodded and started hanging up the laundry with her. "He said he won''t be long. Just went to grab me some amenities."


    Faustine nodded and suddenly launched off in a story about childhood Reynard''s adventures which I was so not interested in hearing but I forcefully did and laughed upon every embarrassing detail. Soon the laundry had been hung up and I went to help her in the kitchen.


    "Oh no, darling," she said, pushing me out the door. "I''d rather you not. You''re still so sick, I can feel it. Thanks for hanging the clothes up with me. Now go rest, go, go!"


    Annoyed but not particularly angry, I walked off in search of something else to do while Reynard took his time to return.


    I think that''s when I noticed an unfamiliar man peeking through the fogged glass of the door that connected to the outside world. I think I meant to call for Faustine but it came out as a choked scream- as if a dog was whining- which I''m sure she couldn''t have heard.


    Nonetheless, Faustine still came running, a wooden spoon covered in gravy in her hands. "What''s happened?"


    I pointed towards the door and I''m sure Faustine saw him peeking as well because she threw the wooden spoon without any regard to her living room towards the door, resulting in a loud shattering of glass followed by running footsteps.


    I flopped down on the wooden floor. "Did you just-"


    "Nah, don''t worry," she said as she cautiously stepped towards the door to notice the damage. "Weirdos roaming the street in this part of the city. Got to give them a good blow to make sure they never return."


    My lips parted to say something but nothing came out.


    Wtf. Just. Happened.


    As if nothing had happened, Faustine picked up the spoon and went back to her gravy, right after telling me that I should tell Lennard to install new glass when he comes back.


    I didn''t say anything. I was still recovering from the shock she had just given me.


    Somewhere from behind, Cael appeared and after one look at the shattered glass, said, "Aw, did momma bust the door again?" and then he left the same way he had come.


    Like I said, what the actual hell?

 Chapter 41 - Testing, Testing

    Thank you all so much for 100+ Power Stones! Like I promised, here''s a special Mass Release consisting of Chapter 41 and 42! (Psst, chap 42 has an illustration waiting for y''all!)


    I put up the whole shindig for future Mass Releases up in my Synopsis, don''t forget to check that out! Support the Novel with more Power Stones, Gifts, Comments, Reviews+ and we''ll whip up some more quality chapters.


    ENJOY!~~~


    _______________________________


    My second day since I''ve escaped from the palace, and I have no idea where I am.


    "W-what do you mean there are weirdos roaming this area? Why, where is this?" I asked as I got up and followed Faustine to the kitchen where she was stirring something in a large black pot. The whole room smelled most strange and I retracted away from the doorway almost immediately.


    "What do you mean there are weirdos roaming around here?" I asked her again.


    She looked up from whatever she was stirring and after acknowledging my presence, said, "Just...drunkards and robbersˇ­ Nothing to worry about though, my love. Why don''t you taste this gravy and tell me if I got the spices right?"


    Still unsatisfied with Faustine''s explanation, I took a step through the threshold as I breathed not from my nose and slurped in the grey-ish brown gunk that was served before my mouth in a spoon. I should''ve been more hesitant, I am aware, but a day''s worth of meal was enough to persuade me that Faustine was a great cook.


    "Good?" she asked, side-eyeing me.


    "Yes, it''s good. A bit heavy on the salt, though."


    She patted my shoulder for my help and then shooed me outside just before closing the kitchen door. If I was someone else, I would''ve felt a bit offended by her brash actions, but I knew how much concentration it took while cooking something up that you are painfully aware will be placed under the judgement of people out of your inner circle. I''ve felt it myself.


    I remember once when my 2nd eldest sister brought a couple of her friends over after a karaoke night. She told me to go make something for them and for herself because, and I quote, they were ''starving as f**k!'' and could practically ''eat a whole damn horse''.


    Timidly, I had asked her what she wanted to eat and they all yelled different articles of food till they reached a compromise and told me to go make some fried chicken.


    Fried chicken was something only Juwon and I had at home alone. It was our little thing. He didn''t care how I made it, he just liked to eat it if I was the one it was made by. But now that my 2nd sister''s friends had also joined the bandwagon, things were a lot tougher. I had to take care of the oil temperature, the amount of cornflakes I coated on the outer side of the chicken, the thickness of the batter, everything.


    I had to concentrate real hard because I knew other people would be tasting my food and it had to be picture-perfect. It took me a few oil splashes and several tries to finally get my things right. I was literally in tears by the time I handed them their tray because I feared I wouldn''t be able to meet their expectations. And I was only 12 myself.


    So like I said, I understood Faustine.


    I was starting to wonder how long it''ll take Reynard to return when he came barging through the front door, yelling, "Aunty, did someone give you trouble again?"


    I stood in the living room like a frozen statue as I tried to register who the hell this was. Oh, silly me, it was just reckless Reynard!


    I stood at ease and glanced at the jar in his hand. "What do we have here?"


    He ignored me. "Aunty," he yelled again. "Why''d you bust the door again?"


    "So it really is normal behavior to go off breaking glass, huh?"


    "Aunty!"


    "Oh, for goodness'' sake, Reynard! Do keep it down," I said, clutching my ears. "A strange man was peeking through the glass part of the door. Faustine threw at him her wooden spoon."


    "Oh..." His shoulders sagged. "Nobody tried to break in, right?"


    I shrugged. "I don''t think so," I told him. "So did you bring the dye?"


    "Oh, yes," he replied, flashing at me the white jar. "Sorry it took me so long. Most places were out of stock so I had to go the long way to Mister Piret''s barber stall. He''s always got some dye on hand."


    As we walked shoulder to shoulder towards the room, I asked with my eyes still on the jar in his hand, "Do you know everyone around here?"


    "Pardon?" he said, stopping in his tracks.


    "It appears that you know everybody''s names, whether they may be Mister Piret or Uncle Franke or-"


    He laughed, cutting me in. "Oh, well. I''ve lived around here since so long ago, everyone''s names come naturally to me now. I roamed the streets a lot with my sister when I was little. We used to play so many games and whatnot with the other kids on the streets, so needless to say, we grew close to the people around us. It''s like we''re one big family."


    "How strange," I mumbled, but when he looked at me, I quickly completed by saying, "but not in a bad way!"


    Close call.


    "So how many people do you really know around here?" I asked as I opened the door to my room.


    "Well..." he said, lifting his fingers to count. "There''s Uncle Franke, of course and Mister Piret, like I said. There''s Madam Orva, the fortune teller right along the street and Charleen Fay, the girl who sells flowers beside Jesekiel, the blacksmith''s stall. Mister Tallifer with his grand, black hounds sits in front of his house at the end of the street to protect his garden from kids running over it and Little Alric and Small Boy Colby are the kids in question. Then we''ve got Ulitta Graemes, the widow who never leaves her house but us kids do deliver free apples to her once a week. Ronni and Helmi Carlyle, the twins who perform gymnastics on the street and their little sister, Tristi plays the vielle with them and dare I say, they make a ton off it. Oh, I forgot to mention..."


    The whole while Reynard had been animatedly telling me about his ''one big family'', I had already seated myself on the bed and he had instinctively pulled out the chair. His rant was still ongoing and I had been listening with interest at first but now the same interest had been replaced with envy. He had everything I could only imagine. A nice sister, loving parents, freedom to act and on top of that, everyone was a friend of his.


    Unknowingly, it was eating away at me from the inside.


    When he had finally finished after announcing ''Ida Thorpe, the woman with the crazy clothes who resides smackdab in the middle of the main, commercial street of Eyress and wouldn''t move even for a several hundred golds'', I smiled and told him how wonderful it was but in reality, it hurt.


    "So the dye," I brought up the subject again. "What color did you pick?"


    "Oh, it''s charcoal. That''s what there usually is."


    Great! I thought. Black!


    "Shall we try applying it, then?" I said expectantly.


    He got off the chair with a grunt and one-handedly pushed the large table in front of the door to prevent anyone from coming in. "This should keep everyone out," he muttered. Weirdly, it felt like deja vu, but the last time we had attempted something like this was with a large bedside table lined with gold.


    Without a word spoken between us, I took off the bonnet, letting my hair roll down and broke off a couple hairs from my head. I presented it to Reynard but he didn''t do anything to them immediately.


    "Careful, Your Highness," he said, smiling, "This stuff stinks. It''s best if we apply it outside the window to prevent any fumes from throwing suspicion on us."


    I nodded and we stepped closer to the window. Reynard grabbed a couple of my lilac hairs which looked white under the early afternoon''s light and dipped them into the jar of blackness.


    He was right, it did smell strongly of charcoal. I screwed up my nose as I saw blackened hairs emerge from the jar''s top. Reynard quickly closed the lid and we observed the hair together under the sunlight. They very much did look black and the excess dye was dropping onto the window sill, but Reynard cared not.


    After a while, he said, "I think they should be completely colored now..."


    "Do we wash it to check?" I asked, my eyes on the two long strands.


    Reynard nodded. He put one finger in his mouth and rubbed the strands with his spit to check if the dye came off. It didn''t.


    I smacked Reynard''s back. "That''s disgusting. Couldn''t you have used water?"


    He chuckled. "We''ve blocked off the door. It''d be much of a hassle to remove the table, go wash the hair, and then come back to push the table in place again. Aunty would surely grow suspicious of us."


    Though I did agree with him, I wasn''t going to let him off this easily. "How can you act so vile in front of your princess, nonetheless?"


    "Runaway princess," he corrected and I sighed.


    "Now check if the strands will still heal," I told him.


    He proceeded to scratch his arm again, this time a lot lighter. There wasn''t any blood but it was still an injury. He hovered the hair over the cut and looked at me hesitantly. I nodded while I prayed under my breath for it to work and I guess God heard my voice because the moment the dyed strand came in contact with the scratch, the skin started to come together until there was no sign of the cut itself.


    We both sighed with relief. I fell back on the bed while Reynard threw himself on the floor, looks of accomplishment all over our faces. It worked.

 Chapter 42 - *Black Beauty

    The next time I took a step in the living room, I had a whole head of black hair.


    Cael gaped at me from his spot on the carpet, his eyes nearly popping out of their sockets.


    "Unicorn hair..." he mumbled. "What happened to the unicorn hairˇ­?"


    "There never was anything of the sort," I answered back as I stuck out my tongue. Kid was trying to rip me off with wooden horses, the brat.


    At that moment, Faustine came bursting through the kitchen with a flourish and placed a small dish on the table.


    "Kids, are you done with whatever you were doing?" she called absent mindedly, not noticing that we were standing right there. "Come, let''s have a...snackˇ­." She noticed us.


    "Ashli! Dear!" she cried as she approached me, her hands outstretched. "Oh. Oh...oh Lord! My, you are so beautiful, darling!"


    I smiled as I felt her warm hands embrace my cheeks. She brushed a few strands of my hair away from my face as she gazed dearly at my dyed hair. Though I''m certain she hadn''t any idea that I had just artificially colored my tresses. ILLUSTRATION:


    I had also just slipped into a lovely, long dress belonging to Reynard''s sister which made me appear ever so sophisticated. The white flower hair accessory I had worn on the event of the ceremony had still been stuck to my head and I had styled my hair with it by braiding the locks attached to my temples and pulling it back into a lovely hairstyle I had seen quite often back at school.


    While Faustine admired my new appearance, I glanced nervously at Reynard who had yet to leave my side. With a tilt indicating the door behind us, I silently questioned him: ''Did you clean the room?''


    With a slight node of his head, he wordlessly conveyed to me the answer. ''Yes.''


    Faustine said something which made me break my gaze away from him and I looked down at her with a large smile. "Shall we eat?" I asked.


    We all sat around the table and this time, Lennard was absent from the participants. How fortunate.


    Cael was giving me the stank-eye with his lips out in a pout. He didn''t respond when Faustine asked him if he wanted one or two servings of the lovely pottage that she had just whipped up. According to what I was seeing, pottage was kind of like a stew-slash-gravy made with different assortments of vegetables: peas, onions and tomatoes. I also saw lumps of oats and several floating bits of meat, probably from the leftover scraps of boar.


    Faustine poured me a serving in a small wooden bowl and told us all to dig in.


    "Reynard," she said, mid-chew. "Is Amice doing any better today?"


    "Same old." He sighed which brought out with it hot steam from the stew. "The new medicines the apothecary prescribed did help her sleep for the night but she developed the coughing fit and pains once anew in the morning. Things aren''t looking too well for her now, according to the physician. Though I really hope she''ll get better soon."


    "And so," Faustine mumbled, "do I. Should I come over today and help a bit around the house?"


    Reynard waved his hands in dismissal. "Thank you for considering it, although Rosa''s got it all covered. But we''ll call you over if she''s in need of assistance."


    We sat in silence while everybody sipped onto their stew.


    I had yet to taste it as I never was too fond of water touching my meat. I know, I know it sounds weird, but it feels quite strange to my tongue.


    Carefully, I spooned some stew and sipped it. It was good, but it smelled quite pungent to the nostrils. I inhaled a lot of spice and sneezed a couple times, unaware of the worried gazes on me.


    "You okay, dear?" Faustine asked worriedly as she reached for my shoulder and patted it.


    "I''m good," I said as I furtively pushed the bowl away and set my eyes on Reynard, going in for the question that had been bugging me for a while. "I''ve been hearing that your mother''s really sick. Can you tell me what''s happened? If you don''t mind, of course."


    Reynard lowered his spoon and stared at his stew wistfully.


    "She''s been dealing with a severe typhoid case," he said sadly. "Started half a month ago. I''ve been trying to help her get better ever since but we see no signs of improvement."


    Faustine smacked her hands on the table, resulting in a clattering of bowls. "Nonsense," she said, frowning at Reynard. "She''ll get better, love, that''s all you need to keep in mind. Don''t let go of the last thread of hope, alright?"


    Reynard mumbled something under his breath and silently finished his stew. I, too, kept taking small sips so as not to offend dear Faustine, though I did have to keep my nose shut the whole time.


    When Reynard finished, he helped Faustine clear away the table and then pulled me along to the front door, stepping carefully over the glass.


    "Aunty," he hollered, "I''m taking Ashli out for a while. We''ll be back soon, so don''t wait for us."


    With that, he pulled me through the door and out into the afternoon sun.


    "Fine day for a walk, isn''t it, Your Highness?" he said, still clutching onto my long sleeves.


    "Very," I replied, my lips curling upwards as I glanced from house to house as we walked on the cobblestone path. "I was quite in need of one as well."


    He remained silent as we walked through the street with houses towering on either side of us and with men and women roaming the streets, minding their own business.


    "You won''t be able to walk freely like this after a couple days."


    I frowned. "Why not?"


    He sighed and looked down at me, letting go of my sleeve. "In a few days, the imperial guards would be roaming the streets in search of the runaway princess. They''ll probably go house-to-house as well. That''s going to be our main problem, hiding you from their vigilant gazes."


    I glanced down at my feet as we walked through the tight street. Rosa''s shoes enveloped them in an embrace, the grey leather quite in contrast against my milky white skin.


    "And I can''t keep living at Faustine''s house forever," I said. "Sooner or later, she''s going to start questioning me about my figment of a mother''s health and not long after that, she''ll start getting sick of taking care of an extra burden."


    "Oh come on," Reynard scoffed. "Don''t think that. You aren''t an extra burden at all."


    "Well, you think that because it''s not you who has to deal with me being in your house."


    Reynard kept staring ahead with his lips in a straight line. We emerged from the towering houses into the main street where the sun shone a little bit shinier and the air was a little bit fresher. Even the amount of people increased by a lot. There was a lot of hustle and bustle even though it was afternoon time.


    "Market Day, is it still?" I asked as I shielded the sun from my eyes.


    Reynard did a 180ˇă take of our surroundings. "Not today. But it still is quite busy, isn''t it? Come on!"


    He took my hand and we walked through the busy street. Unlike Sir Gradral, he was quite good at keeping me out of everyone''s way and this time, I didn''t have to face any verbal abuse from some irritated pedestrians.


    All around us were loud voices, advertising their products:


    "Get cho'' fresh rolls here!"


    "Fresh fruits for half the price today!"


    "We''ve got ointments of all kinds here at Huvel''s!"


    "It''s so lively," I said as I looked from stall to stall with utmost heed.


    "Would you like to get something, then?"


    I snapped my head around to look at him with an expression that spoke, ''Are you really asking?''


    He raised his eyebrows as if to say, ''You want something or not?''


    "I would love that!" I exclaimed giddily.


    He smiled smugly. "With that reaction, anyone would question the fact that you really are a princess who''s whole life was a privilege."


    Oof, he was getting there.


    "A-anyways," I uttered, changing the course of our talk, "what''s the budget?"


    He folded his arms behind his head, totally nonchalant. "5 silvers. 7, if I''m in the mood to be generous."


    Since I knew nothing about the currency here, I didn''t have any idea what was the value of his offering, but when I eventually got around to asking the prices of various articles, I was hugely disappointed.


    "How much for this scarf?"


    "9 silvers."


    "What about this lovely pair of flats?"


    "That''ll be 13 silvers."


    "How about 5 silvers?"


    "Madame you''ll only get something for that cheap off the lost-and-found."


    Next stall: "What does this chain cost?"


    "20 golds."


    A moment of silence. "H-hold it for me; I''ll check the other stalls and come back for this later."


    We walked from stall to stall browsing for cheap items for the rest of the afternoon till we lost track of time and it started getting dark. Soon, the vendors were lighting lanterns to keep their stalls lit and the street coupled Korea at night time. A whole constellation of stars right on earth.


    "As of now, I haven''t seen a single item going for 5 silvers," I said grudgingly to Reynard as I tamed my black hair which had been disheveled by now. "How dare you be so selfish in your giving?"


    He shrugged. "Unlike you, my father''s not the Emperor, nor is he so generous. So I have to make my own money."


    "And pray tell, how do you do that?"


    He whistled a merry tune as he walked with his hands in his pants pockets, several coins jingling. "I''m aˇ­ Actually, never mind. How about we go check out that jeweler''s stall?"


    "Wait!" I tried to say but I was strung along by him, leaving my question unanswered.

 Chapter 43 - The Announcement And The Fall

    The jeweler''s stall in question belonged to a someone called Verel Yeardly.


    "Reynard, young chap!" he beamed as we approached his brightly lit stall. "Who''ve we got here?"


    "How''s the sale going today, Mister Verel?" he blurted, clearly trying to evade the question.


    "Answer me, boy," Verel demanded, his tone quiet but firm.


    "This wonderful lady here," Reynard said eventually as he gestured towards me with his left hand, "is Ashli Rivers. So about the sale-"


    "Ashli Rivers?" Verel cut in as he crouched forward from where he sat on a large blue velvet ottoman and shook my hand. "Have we met before?"


    "No, sir," I replied quickly, lowering my face so that my hair formed a curtain around it. "We certainly haven''t met before."


    I heard a ''mmm'' and then a clap.


    "Anyways," Verel said in the loud voice gifted to him so he could bellow out his products to the world, "what''s the relationship between you and my lad, hm?"


    "Erm..."


    "Just old acquaintances, Mister Verel, really" Reynard voiced but was quickly shushed by him.


    "I''m talking to the lady, boy," he said sternly while tutting at him. "So, girly, whereabouts are you from?"


    He was an old man, older than Martha probably. As he spoke, his puckered mouth revealed no front teeth but a slight lisp in his tongue. The hair that bore over his head were none but a few scattered strands which were neatly gelled down in an attempt to appear not so scarce. I tried to stand still as the man eyed me with his large, grey eyes around which the skin had crinkled great folds. But all in all, he had a friendly look to himself.


    "Ah, I''m from..." I gestured to the surroundings around me. "... I''m from around here."


    "Oh really?" he said as he leaned back and scrutinized me with squinted eyes. "I don''t believe the word! I''ve been selling jewels here all my life but might I say, I''ve never seen you walk past once."


    "That must be the product of your short-term memory loss, Mister Verel," Reynard chuckled but was again shushed with a flea in his ear.


    "Don''t cut in, boy." Verel never left his eyes off me once. "Anyways," he said, "care to purchase some lovely articles for yourself?"


    I was glad that he wasn''t prodding at my history anymore. Carefully, I raised my head and glanced my eyes around the wonderful gems on display.


    For the old man that he was, Verel had set his stall beautifully. In front of his ottoman was a large display table with several plush cushions on top which held several heavy gems in their grasps which sat snuggly in their respective caves. Other than the exceptionally large gems which glinted under the lantern lights, Verel also sold bracelets and long chained necklaces. I saw a couple which caught my eye.


    "How much is this emerald necklace?" I asked, pointing to the chain which hung on the wooden stand to Verel''s left.


    He lifted it off the hook and handed it to me to inspect closer. Over my shoulder, I saw Reynard peek at the necklace in my hand.


    "There''s no way it''s going to be within budget."


    I ignored him. "How much is this?" I asked the vendor.


    "200 golds," Verel answered as he patted down his hair. Upon noticing my disappointment, he wavered the cost. "175."


    "Oh no, it''s much to costly," I said sadly as I handed him back his product.


    He took it back and hung it back on the display stand. "But I could tell you liked green stones," Verel said with a hint of smile to his lips. He flicked his eyes towards my wrist.


    Confused, I looked down and saw Fleur''s gift hanging above my hand. Oh I''d forgotten about that! I hadn''t taken the jade bracelet off ever since my visit to the boutique.


    Now I gazed at it with warm fondness.


    "Where might you have picked up such an extravagantly crafted trinket?" he asked, his eyebrows going up in interest as he observed the jaded bracelet around my wrist. "As a man who deals with jewels, might you grant me the privilege to take a closer look at it?"


    I looked up and he had his hands outstretched.


    I was hesitant but a warm touch to my back reassured me that everything would be okay. Slowly, I slipped it off my wrist and placed it gently in Verel''s wrinkly palms. He retreated his reach and held his hands up to his face.


    "Yes..." he muttered. "Lovely finishˇ­.lovely, I must commend."


    After he had finished studying it, he handed it back to me and then nodded. "I would like to buy that!"


    I was stricken. "P-pardon?"


    Before I had even finished, Verel was pulling out a pouch from under the table which jingled loudly with coins.


    "No no!" My hands went up in surrender. "This isn''t for sale."


    The pouch went back under the table.


    Verel sighed and eyed the bracelet in my hands longingly. "I do hope you would consider."


    "I''ll think about it," I lied through my teeth.


    We all bid our farewells and moved on. When we were well away from the jeweler''s stall and had walked into an area where cries of food were being hollered.


    "Where''d you get that anyways?" Reynard asked, his hands back behind his head.


    I rolled my eyes. Of course he''d be curious. "I''m a princess. I got it from wherever."


    He ''mmm''d'' and didn''t say anything till we reached an area where good smells wafted all around us.


    "I''m sure you could get more than enough goods to eat for 5 silvers," Reynard muttered beside me, browsing the many stalls of bread and butter.


    "Really?" I asked as my eyes darted from stall to stall. I saw chicken, I saw beef and I even saw lamb. But I was really (really) in the mood for spicy rice cakes, my favorite korean snack. I used to get those little cup thingies from the old woman who ran the food stall behind school. The drenched rice cakes in the spicy sauce, which was part perfectly chewy and part delicious, I''d get them together with Jieum when we wrapped up with classes. Then I''d meet up with Juwon and we''d walk home together.


    But I bet they didn''t have my no.1 comfort food here.


    I pointed towards a stall surrounded by a lot of hungry customers. We''d been roaming around the market for a long while now and I hadn''t had anything to eat since breakfast. (the pottage doesn''t sound!)


    "Can I get that?"


    Reynard looked up to where my finger was pointed to. "A pretiola?"


    I looked up at him, confused. "Whatever is that?"


    Reynard laughed at my inquiry, the corners of his eyes crinkling. "What do you mean? Are you sure you''ve lived in the same Empire as us people?"


    "Of course," I answered hurriedly. Oof, close call. Once again.


    Reynard and I stood in line for the said pretiolas and when we finally got to the front, the vendor asked me if I wanted mine salted or not and I said ''salted'' so he sprinkled a pinch of salt over a large curly bread-stick like thing which clearly coupled with 21st century pretzels.


    "How much was that?" I asked as I bit into the hot pretzel. Yes, I''ll be calling it ''Pretzel'' now.


    "12 coppers," Reynard said through a mouthful of his own pretzel.


    "That''s cheap," I said as the saltiness invaded my mouth. All I knew was that copper was worth much less than silver. I think. "Are you generous enough to give me the change?"


    Reynard gave me a meaningful glance and kept chewing on his pretzel. We kept walking silently back from where we had come from. I started recognizing all the familiar stalls we had visited before. There went the fruit stall with the most exotic looking fruit I had ever seen. There went the fabric stall with a roll of shimmery black tulle that I had instantly fallen in love with. The stall with the various assortments of boots and flats goes past as wellˇ­.And then we heard clicking.


    It sounded like horse feet colliding against the cobble-stone.


    "Get to the side," Reynard hissed as he pushed me to the sides of the street. I noticed that other people were making way too, dispersing like a crowd of fish.


    The distant clip-clop of the horses kept drawing nearer and nearer till a black horse''s head appeared high in the crowds, mounted by a prestigious knight dressed in a uniform similar to that of Sir Gradral''s.


    A murmur went through the crowd.


    The horse stopped in the middle of the street with a loud neigh. Following the leading knight were a couple other men  mounted on horses of their own.


    The knight pulled out a scroll from his coat and unrolled it. Everybody knew this was an imperial knight from the Emperor''s selected forces. Even I knew about that.


    Everybody was waiting on their toes for the knight to declare whatever business he had with the locals of Eyress. I found myself hiding behind my hair in case the knights recognized me and I''m sure Reynard had thought of that too because he had stepped in front of me to shield me from the knights'' line of sight.


    "People of Wisteria," the knight started, bellowing in a loud voice, "this is a direct announcement from His Imperial Majesty, Emperor Haleth Klaern II. We request you to not fret over what is about to be declared. Last night it was discovered that Her Royal Highness, Crown Princess Cynthia Amaryll Klaern has been found missing."


    A loud murmur went through the crowd. I tensed up as some women beside me whispered to each other on the matter and how awful it was that it had happened.


    "We ask you to not worry," the knight said again. "The guards have been actively searching for Her Highness but she has yet to be found within the premises of the palace. His Majesty has issued an order for all people to keep a lookout amongst themselves for the Princess, whether she has been kidnapped or has run away on her own accord, though the latter may seem unlikely. If, by any chance, Her Highness seems to be completely absent from the palace, a public search will be carried out from street-to-street and house-to-house. Please wait patiently for further announcements. An official post of this will also be attached on the various public bulletin boards and a portrait of Her Highness will also be put up for reference of those who aren''t aware of her appearance. The imperial knights thank you all."


    With that, the scroll was rolled back shut and shoved back in the knight''s coat. With a yap, the horses sprang back on their hooves and headed ahead to announce the same declaration on the other streets.


    As the horses faded away, a tense atmosphere arose.


    "The princess has been kidnapped, they said," some cried.


    Someone yelled, "Doom shall dawn upon us all."


    "Fret not," someone tried to settle things down. "Let us hope they find her safe and sound."


    "The prophecy... the prophecy, what of the prophecy?" a cry arose, echoing closely by another, and yet another, until the whole crowd was chanting together.


    The women beside me were praying under their breath. I gulped and glanced up at Reynard who was sweating profusely.


    "L-let''s get out of here," he muttered. "Keep your head down and walk swiftly."

 Chapter 44 - Vexed

    Back at Faustine''s, everything was a mess.


    "Did you hear?" Faustine jumped on us the moment we stepped through the door. I noticed that the broken glass had been replaced. "Did you hear, did you hear?" she cried. "The princess is missing! Oh lord, help us!"


    "Calm down, Aunty," Reynard said as he put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. Faustine sighed and backed up with a hand on her chest as she looked from Reynard''s face to mine.


    "Where were you two?" she asked suddenly, pausing mid-cry.


    "We were just browsing through the stalls, nothing much," Reynard said nonchalantly as he pulled a chair and sat down. "How did you find out about the announcement?"


    "Lennard just returned half an hour ago," Faustine said, massaging her forehead. "Apparently, he was at the fisherman''s when the knights made an appearance. Oh, what a terrible turn of events! And she went missing on her 17th year of birth, nonetheless. What do you reckon may have happened?"


    "She''s probably hiding within the palace, it''s no such big deal." Reynard brushed it off real well. "Like they said, don''t worry too much, Aunty. I''m sure they''ll find her."


    Faustine looked like she wanted to ask some questions but she kept silent as she circled patterns on her apron. Then she just went and shut herself in her kitchen.


    I walked over and pulled another chair beside Reynard before sitting down myself.


    "We expected this, didn''t we?" I said to the floor.


    Reynard didn''t answer.


    "What do we do now?"


    He sighed loudly. "Should we contact that woman who helped us at the palace? What was her name, Sumnerˇ­?"


    "Lady Sumner. Her name''s Yvonne," I corrected. "Do you really think asking her for help is a good option? How will you do that anyways? You do know that all the letters to the palace get inspected, right? And I''m sure they must''ve increased the security around the palace for now, so you can''t get in by your usual methods either."


    He aggressively scratched his scalp. "I know that."


    We sat in silence, thinking about a solution to this new issue.


    "Should I just escape to the neighboring country?" I proposed.


    He laughed sadly. "That''s more than a 1000 miles, Your Highness. How do you think you''ll get there? And anyways, all new immigrants are inspected once as well. How do you expect to get past that?"


    I gulped. "Should I just hide under the floorboards, then, till this whole stumbling block gets over with?"


    "Nothing''s getting over till you''re found."


    I was about to say something when a door somewhere smashed open and the stomping of feet drew closer to us till Lennard was standing in the living room. I peaked over my shoulder and saw him looking at us with displeasure.


    "Did y''all hear?" he asked Reynard.


    Reynard leaned back in his seat. "Yeah. Why''d you have to go and tell Aunty and worry her over nothing, anyways?"


    "Me?" Lennard said, pointing to himself. "You''re getting mad at me for telling her something that will be the public buzz till tomorrow anyways? What are you, thick? And anyways, where were you and your little girlfriend? Ma was almost flipping over with worry."


    Reynard raked a hand through his black hair and laughed as if he couldn''t believe what he was hearing.


    "Right, okay. I''m leaving," he said, standing up abruptly. "Tell your mum I left."


    With that, he creaked open the door and shut it behind him with a satisfying thud. Lennard and I were alone in the living room.


    I expected him to say something to me, but he just scoffed and stomped back into his room. Why was everybody shutting doors on me these days?


    I hadn''t noticed Cael sitting in the corner of the living room but I did now as he shuffled his feet as he shakily stood up, toy horse in hand.


    I gulped. I hoped he hadn''t heard mine and Reynard''s conversation.


    "Cael!" I exclaimed extra cheerfully. "You okay? What''s been happening?"


    "Momma was very mad you left without telling," he mumbled, fidgeting with his horse.


    "But we did tell her..." Or rather, Reynard had hollered at her that we were leaving. It never crossed my mind that Faustine couldn''t have heard him.


    "Nobody heard it, then. Momma was almost in tears about how someone had kidnapped you and stuff because the door was broken," he mumbled again, his gaze casted downwards. "And then Lennard came back with the news. Are you really the princess people have been talking about?"


    My eyes widened.  "What? No, no, how can I ever be? Like Reynard said, Her Highness is probably still at the palace."


    "You think? But Reyn said-"


    "He was joking!" I said, adding a little laugh at the end. "What a hilarious personality he has! Haha. Doesn''t he just come up with the best jokes? He calls me Your Highness sometimes because he thinks I''m his princess. Just couple things, haha."


    Inside, I was puking. I was cringing at my own words. I was also almost half-dead. Mental reminder to soap my tongue after this.


    "Yeah?" Cael asked, raising his head.


    "Yeah."


    He said ''okay'' and walked away past my line of sight. I sighed and fanned my face. Gosh, I needed to be more careful. This kid was getting at something.


    ?


    Fish for dinner. Faustine, Lennard, Cael and I ate in silence at the table before Faustine decided to ask me about my said mother.


    "How''s your momma doing, love?" she asked, biting into her fish.


    I was taken by surprise. "I''m sure she''s doing well. I haven''t heard from her today so I have no certain way of knowing. So let''s just hope."


    "Mm."


    Then Lennard decided to speak up. "So this was what you were hiding under that ugly hat of yours? What was there to hide, anyways?"


    I kept chewing on the rather burnt fish.


    "And where''s you get the clothes?" He suddenly leaned forward and tugged on my sleeve.


    Disgusted, I snatched my arm away.


    "Hey," he said, his hands up in surrender. "I was only asking."


    "Thanks for the meal," I said as I stood up, my chair scraping against the wooden floor.


    As I walked to my room, I heard Lennard whisper to the rest, "What the hell is up with her?"


    What was up with me? I was in a foul mood after the news. It was a possibility that I could get caught very soon. I hadn''t any idea how I could avoid my fate nowˇ­. Shall I really succumb to hiding under the floorboards? Did I even have a choice now?


    Frustrated, I flopped down on the bed and  back, my long hair spreaded around me like a wreath.


    Whatever shall I do now?


    I needed to come up with a plan, pronto.

 Chapter 45 - To Be Floored

    [Back at the Palace]


    "How''s the search going?"


    "We''re trying our best, Your Majesty," replied Sir Gradral as he bowed solemnly.


    The Emperor threw on the table the parchment from which he had been reading from. It had been two days since the princess''s disappearance and there was still no trace of her. It had started to worry him to the point he couldn''t concentrate on his work.


    "Alright." He dismissed Sir Gradral with a wave of his hand. "Tell somebody to call for Odette; there''s something I need to talk to her about."


    Sir Gradral bowed once again. "Eternal blessings upon the Empire of Wisteria."


    Once the Emperor was finally alone, he leaned back in his large wingback chair and held onto his forehead. Oh, how he wished the princess would show up herself so he wouldn''t have to go through so much trouble because of her.


    Her disappearance was observed the night of the Ceremony. The Emperor believed that everything had gone wrong all because he had been absent to supervise the event. At the time, he had some urgent business to attend to related to the neighboring kingdoms and had to have his say in it.


    And everything had all gone so wrong. After all, it was the night of the awakening, the night stated in the 500 year back prophecy.


    The Emperor was about to pick his parchment again when there was a sudden knock at the door.


    "Your Imperial Majesty, it is I, Odette."


    The Emperor grunted and told her to Enter after he had spreaded a lot of documents around him and picked a few up to appear that he had been rather too busy at the moment.


    Odette entered, dressed in a lovely green evening gown, conservative enough to go down to her sleeves. "You called for me, Your Majesty?"


    "Ah, yes," the Emperor said, lowering the parchment as if he had just been reading it. "Have you heard anything from your father recently?"


    "My father?" Odette echoed, stoked. "No, Your Majesty. He has yet to contact me."


    "Okay, okay," the Emperor muttered under his breath. The letter he had asked him to relay to King Irvin through his son, Marcello had yet to receive a reply. The Emperor sighed with frustration while Odette stood in front of his large mahogany desk with golden knobs. The Emperor looked back up at her, avoiding his gaze to go over her several curves and the shape of her neck.


    "Has Lady Sumner settled in?" he asked, looking her straight in her intelligent, brown eyes.


    "Quite nicely Your Majesty," she replied, inwardly surprised at the change of subject. "Though she has been rather distraught about Her Highness''s disappearance."


    The Emperor muttered bitterly, "Aren''t we all?"


    Odette lowered her gaze but didn''t say anything.


    "How are the rest of you faring with the news?" the Emperor asked, leaning back in his chair and lacing his fingers.


    Odette was never one to prolong small talk so she just replied with what had to be said. "We are all extremely worried," she recited monotonously.


    "And?"


    "We are all praying for her return."


    "Good." The Emperor was satisfied, though he still couldn''t get over the fact that Count Atraxil had yet to reply to him although so much time had passed since their ''little chat''.


    He sighed eventually after pondering upon his next move and waved Odette away. After the door had shut, he thought about other ways to get the princess back to him.


    Now, he thought, how best to capture a princess?


    ?


    Another day at the market which I had just developed a deep wariness of.


    "So," Reynard said as he walked by me. "Which bulletin should we head to first?"


    "How many bulletin boards are there in the whole of Eyress?" I asked as I lowered the hat over my head. With the remains of the 5 silvers from yesterday, Reynard had bought me a large straw hat so I could keep my head covered or at least, ''shadowed'' at all times. And it had proved quite useful till now because people all over the market were whispering about ''The Case of the Missing Princess'' and none of them had come to suspect me yet.


    I had proposed the plan that we could swiftly go and tear each and every one of my portraits from the city bulletin boards to keep people from recognizing me.


    "There are a total 12 boards all-in-all scattered across Eyress," Reynard said as he waved hi to someone across the street. "And our first stop should be the one across Gartran Health Centre."


    Right. I nodded.


    We were about to cross the street to the other side when we heard someone call.


    "Reynard! Oh, Reynard!"


    Reynard and I turned around at the same time, watching as an orange haired girl ran towards our standing point. "Oh, Reynard!" she said breathlessly as she approached us. "How wonderful that we get to meet on the street."


    I pulled my hat low over my face. She was a rather plain looking girl, with off-white puffed out sleeves and a leather belt. Her fiery hair was the main cynosure of her looks as it spread in every direction.


    "Hestia," Reynard uttered, a little surprised. "Fancy meeting you here."


    "Isn''t it?" she asked as she smiled. She had a lot of freckles, I noticed. A trait found much adorable in my world. But she wasn''t, in any sense of word, an adorable girl. She was rather basic. Not in a negative sense, of course, though I was annoyed that she had interrupted us.


    "Ashli, meet my friend and Rosa''s past fellow schoolmate, Hestia Trayvil," Reynard said quickly. I did Hestia a quick once-over. She seemed nice enough as she smiled with crooked teeth. I put my hand forth:


    "Hi, I''m Ashli Rivers. Nice meeting you."


    She shook my hand and her long fingernails dug into the back of my hand.


    "Nice meeting you too," she said through gritted teeth. I wondered what was wrong. "So what are y''all doing?"


    "We were just off somewhere," Reynard said eventually, trying hard not to appear rude. "What about you? Shouldn''t you be off painting or something?" His tone was teasing.


    Hestia pouted. "Artists need a break sometimes too, y''know. Unlike you, we do a lot of work to make a living for ourselves."


    I noticed through the sides of my eye that Reynard had just flashed an alarmed stare at Hestia due to which she shut up really quick. Why was Reynard so hesitant to tell me about what he did? Though it didn''t matter to me in the least. As long as I was alive, we were good.


    "So... are you two together or what?" Hestia asked humorously as she pointed from my face to Reynard''s. Though I did notice there was a pang of pain in her expression. Funny that.


    Reynard glanced at me. "Yeah," he stretched it really long. "I guess you could say that. Though I would prefer it if no one else finds out. It''s still a secret."


    Hestia didn''t say anything for a second and then burst out laughing.


    "Of course, of course, I won''t tell," she said as she waved at Reynard. "Nice meeting you, Ashli. I know y''all are staying to talk but I can tell that you''re in a hurry to leave, so I won''t keep you waiting. Hope we meet again."


    With that, she turned on her heel and walked back from where she had run over to us until she was just an orange dot in the crowd.


    "Come on," Reynard said. "Gartran''s just around the corner."


    We walked across the road and around the corner in question and were instantly met with a horde of people.


    "Is it usually this busy at the health center?" I asked as I held onto my hat.


    Reynard bit his lower lip. "Not really. I''m sure they''re all here to read the notice."


    And they were. I caught snippets of loud conversations that wafted through the crowd that were all similar to: "...the princess...", "...missingˇ­" or "...prophecyˇ­."


    "What now?" I asked, my eyes browsing through the various faces, none of which I recognized.


    "Should we hit up the next bulletin board?"


    So we went to the board on Boutart Street and in front of Dietrich park though all of them were overcrowded as well. We didn''t bother to merge with the horde for we were afraid someone would''ve noticed me.


    So ripping off my portraits wasn''t an easy task and it wouldn''t be much fruitful after the buzz died down because till then, everybody would have my face etched into their memories. There wasn''t anything we could do other than hide out for the rest of my life.


    Reynard fell down on the sidewalk, exasperated.


    "We''re done for," he muttered.


    "We mustn''t lose hope," I muttered as I gently patted his shoulder. It was essential I provide him with reassurance once in a while, because he was the only savior I had and he was my only glimmer of hope now amongst these blessing-hungry wretches. If he decides to get up and abandon me, I''d have nowhere else to go.


    I lifted my hat and scratched the itchy bit that had been rubbing against the coarse straw all this time. The hat had a lovely red bow tied around it which went well with the red lip I wore today. It was Faustine''s lip rouge that she had graciously allowed me to wear out. I had done so so I could hide my identity further, for the princess never wore bold makeup.


    The feeling of defeat was over our heads. Reynard was staring absent-mindedly at a queue of ants along the cobblestone and didn''t respond at all to my constant reassurances. I was beginning to think he had given up when he turned his head to stare at me very seriously and then what he said made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on their edges.


    My mouth dropped open when his words had finally registered in.


    "We should let you die."

 Chapter 46 - The Set-up

    I gaped at him.


    "Did you just-"


    "Yes." He was staring at me, taking careful note of my expressions. "Let''s."


    No. No, no, no, no.


    This couldn''t be it.


    I gulped, staring straight into Reynard''s sea-green eyes. No way he could mean what he had just said. Not after we had come so far.


    "Let''s what?" My voice was barely a whisper.


    His eyes didn''t leave my face. "I''m proposing that we let you die."


    I scowled. "As in, literally? You''re not serious, are you?"


    He leaned back and stretched his hands behind his head and then stood up. He exhaled, slowly.


    "Of course, I''m not serious," he said, smiling his usual, mischievous smile.


    I stood up too. "You do know that we aren''t in a position to joke right now, yes?"


    His smile grew further, the glint in his eyes dancing around in a frenzy. "But we are in a position to propose a good plan, right? I''m saying that we fake your death."


    I was stoked. I opened my mouth to speak but no words came out. Was this guy crazy?? Faking the princess''s death? Even Yvonne would scoff at that.


    "I''m sure hiding under the floorboards is a much more reliable option."


    Reynard started walking. "I disagree."


    "So you''re really serious?" I said as I caught up to him. "Seriously serious?"


    "Yes. I''m sure we''ve established a good plan. A good enough plan to ensure your life past these few couple days, at least."


    Reynard was whistling a merry tune as he walked. I didn''t like it.


    ?


    2 Days went by.


    I stayed in my room at Faustine''s most of the time in case anyone at the house starts to realize who''s the boarder at their residence. Faustine would knock at my door for breakfast, lunch and dinner and would ask me to join them... but eventually, I''d always have my meals in my room.


    I have to admit, I was scared. I was so scared that Faustine or Lennard would match the pieces and hand me over to the palace guards. What would happen to me after that? Would I be kept in captivityˇ­?


    Just like that, the day came by.


    Almost 5 days had passed after my disappearance and today was the day the guards were going to inspect the street where Faustine''s house was located. I was all nerves today while I heard Faustine bustle here and there, trying to clean up her house a little so the guards wouldn''t think her house was a pigsty of some kind.


    I was biting on my nails when I heard a knock on my door.


    "You okay, dear?" Faustine peeked in. "I''m gonna dust your room a little, okay? So why don''t you go out and look after Cael for a while. Come on now."


    Hesitantly, I shuffled outside and paced around the living room, my eyes shifting towards the door every minute or so.


    This was killing me.


    Reynard had promised he''d come by and escape with me so the guards won''t find me in the house, but wherever else could we go when the streets were swarming with guards as well?


    Cael was sitting on the floor and staring at me while I paced.


    "You look worried," he said quietly.


    I glanced at him, biting my thumb. "I''m not worried at all." I''m sure I couldn''t have sounded any more unconvincing.


    Cael bit his lips. "Is it because the guards are coming by today?"


    "I-It''s not that," I replied quickly. Took quick.


    "Don''t worry; they won''t take you away," he muttered as he lowered his gaze towards his toy horse. "Unless you really are the princess."


    I laughed awkwardly and wished that Faustine could hurry her dusting.


    That''s when the knob turned and the front door started creaking on its hinges.


    I panicked and looked around for somewhere to hide because I had thought the guars had come sooner than expected. In my hurry, I ran towards my room, pushed open the window and jumped out. Literally.


    I''m sure Faustine''s back had been to me so she didn''t see me but I heard her mutter something about a loose latch. I kept my mouth shut and didn''t even dare breathe as Faustine closed the window. What had I just done?


    I had landed in a bush facing the back of the house. Now that my adrenaline was dying down, I started noticing the pain. I looked at my wrists and saw several cuts. My ankle had been twisted with the landing and my legs were up against piercing spikes in the bush. It hurt so much.


    Gulping, I broke a couple of my strands and dropped them all over the injured places and in no time, I was fully healed. Thanking God for this gift, I focused my hearing towards the window and heard a lot of distant voices. I prayed that these weren''t the guard because Faustine was to surely tell them about the freeloader in their house.


    But then the window above me opened up and I heard the voice closer to me. Right above me. My eyes widened and I flattened myself against the wall, hoping that whoever had opened the window wouldn''t look down.


    That''s when I heard it. "Why don''t you let some fresh air in, Aunty?" the voice said. Reynard''s voice.


    I sighed as relief washed over me. I found myself looking up and saw Reynard leaning on the ledge of the window, his arm hanging out by the side of my head. I smiled and wondered how he had known I was here. I pinched the side of his palm to let him know I was okay. He tightened his fingers around mine and squeezed. A sign of reassurance.


    I didn''t feel my lips curling further up.


    Faustine asked Reynard something to which he said "Sure," and then I heard footsteps, an indication that Faustine was walking away.


    Reynard turned his head to look down at me and smirked.


    "Mistook me for someone else?" he said, bearing down over me, his blue-green eyes staring into my greens.


    "You bet," I grunted as I stood up, the bush rustling around me. "That scared me for a second. How did you know I was here?"


    He held up a piece of cloth the exact same color of my current dress, black. "Your dress must''ve caught a loose nail on the window ledge. You must learn to be more careful."


    "Haha," I laughed silently. "This really was reckless of me, wasn''t it? But I didn''t know what else to do in that split second."


    "But that was good of you too," he said as he pulled me in. "Though I''m not sure it would''ve helped you hide from the guards, Your Highness. They would''ve looked out of the windows for sure."


    I clicked my tongue at my mistake.


    "So what now? I heard from Faustine that they''re already done searching Mrs Earle''s house. Her''s is only 12 places up from Faustine''s so we must make haste. What''s the plan?" I was desperate to get past this obstacle.


    "Alright," Reynard muttered as his eyes darted around the room. I could see that he was nervous. "Alright, come on."


    He got a hold of my hand and we ran out of the house. Reynard shielded me with his body and we slowly walked to the main street. From behind his back, I peeked and saw that there were a lot of guards roaming the streets and holding posters of some sort. When we got closer, I saw that these were my portraits.


    In alarm, I shuffled behind Reynard and tried to stay out of the guards'' sight.


    Reynard squeezed my wrist. "It''s okay," he kept saying. "We''ll be okay."


    I doubted it. My eyes darted from guard to guard and from the corner of my eye, I saw a couple of them approach us.


    "Reynard," I hissed and pulled him into a dark alleyway. I looked around to see if the guards had noticed us and it seemed that they didn''t because they turned around the corner and left.


    I sighed as relief washed over me but when I looked up, Reynard was looking at me with an expression that clearly said ''WTF''.


    "Guards," I said distractedly as I looked past him. "Coming our way."


    He muttered something which sounded faintly like a curse word and looked beyond at the main street, making sure no one else was there.


    "Okay, princess, hear me out," Reynard said, talking quickly. "I''m just gonna go and get some pig blood from the butcher''s real quick, okay?"


    My face screwed up in disgust. I remembered how some of my classmates happily chewed on blood sausages once...that was a different story though. And a different world as well.


    "What would you want pig blood for?"


    "We need to fake your death, remember?" he said as he gave me a meaningful look. Then he looked out once again and slipped onto the street, leaving me alone in the dark alleyway


    I waited for a while till Reynard came back with a jar of something black. Upon a closer inspection, I saw that it was not, in fact black, but red. Blood red.


    "Is that the blood?" I whispered, my eyes on the jar.


    "No," Reynard whispered back, a hint of amusement on his face. "It''s a cocktail."


    I frowned while Reynard brandished a black cloth from somewhere and thrusted it at me.


    "Hide your face with it," he said distractedly as he looked for guards on the street. "Come on! Quick."


    As soon as I had wrapped it around my face, we were off.


    I don''t think I ever ran as fast as I did at that moment. We ran and ran and ran. I still had no idea where we were going. I looked up at Reynard and wondered what this guy was thinking, because you never knew. Either his plan was going to be an absolute spark of genius or just plain ol'' sh*t.


    We ran through the crowd, for once not caring about barging into people and then after almost 15 minutes, we reached a warehouse. At least I thought it was a warehouse.


    I collapsed on the ground and caught my breath while Reynard peeked in.


    "Where are we?" I asked mid-wheeze.


    Reynard mustn''t have heard me because he had disappeared inside the warehouse. There weren''t many people around but I could still see a few guards scattered here and there. Careful as not to get caught, I stood up and followed Reynard inside the dark, dark warehouse.


    I saw nothing.


    "R-Reynardˇ­?" I called out into the void. The slight ray of light from the parted door aided me in figuring out what lay beyond me. Was this a barnˇ­?


    There was a lot of hay around me and beneath my feet, but the smell of barn animals wasn''t wafting around. It was safe to say that this was a storage area for hay.


    I called out to Reynard once again, my voice breaking, and thankfully, I received an answer this time.


    "I''m here," Reynard called out, his voice a hoarse whisper. "Your Highness, do mind your step now."


    He wasn''t too far from me. I started walking in the direction of his voice but stopped when I heard a trickle of liquid.


    "R-Reynard," I called out once again, looking around frantically.


    That''s when Reynard lit a match and with it he lit a lamp. Suddenly, I could see much better. Like I had said, this was a storage area for hay. Reynard was standing a few steps to my right and had blood all around his feet.


    I was going to ask if he was okay but then I was reminded that this was but pig blood.


    I saw as Reynard spread the blood here and there with his feet and then brandished a few white hairs from his pocket. As my eyes focused in the darkness, I was able to recognize the strands because they were from my very own head.


    "What''s that?" I still asked as I cautiously stepped away from the blood.


    Reynard''s face was eerily lit by the lamp which hung on a hook in the barn wall. "Remember when we broke a few strands of your hair to test them with dye? I kept the spare."


    I pretended that it wasn''t strange of him. "So what are you going to do with them?"


    Reynard threw the strands on the floor where the blood was thin.


    "When the guards come by, they''re going to notice the smell of blood and will surely inspect further. Upon closer inspection," he said as he held his chin like a world-class detective, "they will notice that the hair belongs to you because they are clearly lilac. Then," he pulled out a piece of paper from his pocket with some sort of inscription on it, "they''ll find the note."


    I tilted my head. "Note?"


    Reynard flailed the piece of paper around. "A supposed letter from your kidnappers, this will be. Though I doubt the guards would be much interested in the truth. So your kidnappers have declared in their note that they have killed you off and burned your body to remove the evidence. This is the very place of your death and the hairs are evidence enough. After the killing, they fled far away."


    I shivered. "Does the note also mention why they would do such a morbid thing?"


    "Yes." Reynard smirked. "Yes, it does."

 Chapter 47 - Visiting Ogden Cove

    I didn''t want to ask what it said; I was much too disgusted already.


    My eyes followed him as Reynard placed the letter on a haystack by the blood spill and then carefully stepped over the splashes as he approached me.


    "What happens now?" I whispered, my eyes occasionally going towards the large doors, checking if anyone had sneaked up on us. Though it seemed that no one was in here but us.


    "Now," Reynard said confidently, "we leave through the back door and never talk of this again."


    So we did. Reynard guided me towards the back of the warehouse where there was, in fact, another door through which we slipped out like fugitives.


    "Reynard, I can''t go back to Faustine''s now," I said when we were away from the eyes of the watchful guards. "Wherever else should I stay?"


    Reynard scratched his head in deep thought and pulled out the familiar piece of paper.


    "Okay, let''s refer to the list," he said as he pulled it out from his pocket. "We can make do with this second inn for a while if you want. Ogden Cove. It''s a bit farther from my house compared to where you were staying previously, but anything for Her Royal Highness, no?"


    I swatted at him, though only playfully.


    "Who runs Ogden Cove?" I asked when we were walking again.


    My eyes were strictly on the street though there wasn''t much need because there were barely any people here. All around us were large, towering houses made of wood and stone.


    "Ogden Cove is owned by Mama Ruth. You''re not gonna like her."


    I looked at him, confused. "Why would you say that?"


    He matched my stare. "What?"


    "Because, like," I tried to make sense of my words, "when you introduce someone to someone else, you always say stuff like, ''you''ll absolutely love her!'' or ''both of you are going to get on great!'' So why would you go and say that I won''t like her?"


    Reynard thought about that for a second.


    "Because..." He made a rotating gesture with his hands, an indication that he was still under the thought process.  His dark eyebrows were furrowed. "If I say that you''ll love her, I''d be gratuitously raising your expectations. Then when you''ll meet her and you''ll realize that she''s not all that good and I had been clearly raising your hopes and you''ll hate her as well as me. So it''s better to keep the expectations below the bar. That way, you won''t dislike her more than you already do."


    ?


    Reynard hailed a passing-by wagon to take us to Ogden Cove. It was quite similar to my ride in the royal carriage, with all the bumps and shakes, but this time we were exposed to the open.


    I looked on with my partial vision due to the fact that I was covering my face with the cloth Reynard had provided me with and enjoyed the mid-day breeze on my face.


    I blocked out all my thoughts in an attempt to suppress the fear that we had just set up a scene for my supposed death. Every time I thought about the sight of blood, I wanted to hurl. The fact that we were on a vibrating wagon didn''t make it any better.


    After 15 minutes of driving, the wagon came to a sudden stop.


    "A''right, y''all get off ''ere," said the one-toothed wagon driver, glancing over his shoulder at his two passengers. He either had a horrible sore throat or he deliberately put on an excellent Al Pacino impression.


    Reynard handed the man a few copper coins (I''m not a telepathic; I don''t know how many) and helped me get off the rather high-raised carriage. Soon, I heard the wagon clip-clop away behind us.


    We looked around at where we had just been dropped off. Judging from his face, Reynard didn''t seem too pleased.


    "Dammit," he muttered. "He didn''t even drop us off at the right location. Come, Your Highness, let us locate the Cove ourselves."


    I frowned. Still, any shelter was better than none.


    Reynard and I started moving ahead, our eyes darting from face to face on the narrow street, looking for any guards. Thankfully, there weren''t many faces to scan and soon we realized that the guards hadn''t come out so far. Yet.


    Much to my disappointment, Reynard didn''t seem to know his way around the area. For a while, he scratched his chin while we winded through turns, looking at signs, trying to find the one that said ''Ogden Cove''. For quite a while, we failed to find our desired location.


    "Should we ask someone for directions?" I suggested after we had completely surveyed the area once. "Maybe we missed it."


    Reynard nodded. "Sheer pride didn''t let me take that route as of yet," he muttered, though under his breath. "But I think we should. Stay here, Your Highness."


    I leaned my shoulder against a wall to my side, fingering the chipping concrete near the many cracks as Reynard strolled away. The fake death setup was still boggling my mind.


    What if someone had seen us sneak into the warehouse? What if the guards saw through our fa?ade? There were so many holes in our plan...enough to keep me awake at night.


    I was still worrying over things when Reynard came back, a grin on his face.


    "It''s just a couple streets away," he said happily, his black hair bouncing as he approached me. "Well, it is... if that old woman was right."


    I nodded as I stood upright. "That''s good enough. Let us make haste."


    In no time, we had moved over a couple streets, a street we had just crossed.


    "It''s this one right here," Reynard muttered, his eyes scanning a bland building with one door and no sign. "It seems that Mama Ruth took off her sign for some reason. Anyways, let''s go in!"


    Slowly, Reynard eased back the narrow door which creaked quite loudly and we were met byˇ­.nothingness. It was nothing at all like The Longing Table which had been rather warm, golden and comfy.


    "Are you sure this is it?" I whispered, trying to look for objects in the dark.


    Reynard shrugged. "I''ve only met Mama Ruth in the Market. This is the first time I''ve visited her inn, so I''m not quite the right person to ask."


    I scoffed and rapped loudly on the door. "Mama Ruth," I called in absent-mindedly. "You''ve got customers."


    For a few minutes, there was nothing.


    "Mama Ru-"


    "Aw, shaddap y''all," came a voice from somewhere deep inside the darkness.


    Reynard and I froze. Had that just been a woman speaking? I couldn''t tell because the voice had been so deep, like it had gone through several voice changers in a production studio- cranky and unnatural.


    "What''cha want?" said the same person again, a sign of annoyance in the voice. "Ruinin'' my beauty sleep like you''re all that. Whoozit?"


    Emerged from the gloomy darkness came a short woman wrapped in a navy blue shawl and a matching head-wrap with patterns all over. She looked more like a fortune-teller than any fortune-teller I had ever seen. Though she was not a fortune-teller; she was the inn-keeper.


    "Ah," she muttered, squinting up, first at me, then Reynard. "Rainy, my boy. Howya'' doin''? How''s yer momma?"


    Reynard smiled uncomfortably. "Mother''s alright, Mama Ruth. How''re your legs?"


    "Oof," she muttered as she turned around and walked back hobbled back into the darkness. "I''d be better off without ''em and there''s not a word of lie in it. Follow me in, tots."


    The tots- us- followed her into the room and the door automatically shut behind us, as if by magic. But once we were inside and my eyes began adjusting to the limited light, I saw a tall silhouette standing by the door which shuffled away, walking with lanky, robotic strides. I gulped.


    Mama Ruth lit up a short waxed candle on a hand-held candle holder and faced us, her face lit eerily from below. Only that was when I noticed that her face was covered with wrinkles and a long scar ran down the length of her left cheek.


    She was old enough to be Faustine''s mother, I thought but quickly dismissed it.


    "So, Mama Ruth," Reynard said. I yelped, for I had no idea how close he was. His voice came from right beside me and it bounced off the walls- dark, like our surroundings. "What''ve you been up to?"


    Mama Ruth squinted at Reynard and picked up some specs from the same table which once held the candle and slipped them on. "Ah, that''s better," she muttered. "I''ve been enjoying my days as a retired hag, child. What do you think?"


    Reynard had been looking around the room but he turned back to her and frowned when he heard that. "You retired? Why?"


    Mama Ruth started walking again, though not quick enough for me not to catch her rolling her eyes.


    "Y''know that old man on the other side of the street? Whatwashisname, Cliff something? He opened an inn and took along with him all my customers. The fancy shmancy place he''s got, too, with the thick duvets and whatnot. I vowed that if I ever see him in the street, I''d clock him in the head. Hopefully, that''ll kill him and all my people will come back."


    Reynard chuckled as we followed her through a dark corridor and stopped at a door.


    "So that''s why you retired?" He smiled.


    "You bet I did!" Mama Ruth spat. "I''ve got something y''all call dignity. I wasn''t gonna sit there and let him laugh at my helplessness. So I took off my board and holed up here with Sven. He''s such a help, God bless ''im."


    I opened my mouth to ask who Sven was but shut up when I was reminded of the dark figure by the door. Reynard still asked, though.


    "Who''s Sven?" he asked, tilting his head and scowling.


    Mama Ruth opened a door and let us through. We were instantly met by instant glints from all directions and it was a full minute before I realized that we were in a room with tinkering decorations all over and everywhere. A room fit for a fortune-teller indeed.


    "Do ya sweep my house?" she asked as she went and buried herself in a great patterned armchair right in the middle of the room.


    Reynard looked confused as he picked on a tapestry next to him. "No?"


    "Then I''m not telling ya'' who the f*ck Sven is."

 Chapter 48 - Unveil And Total Chaos

    One thing I figured out from our meeting with Mama Ruth was that the ''Ruth'' in her name stood for ''ruthless''.


    "Come massage my feet," Mama Ruth beckoned to Reynard as soon as she had settled down in her armchair. "After all, nobody comes by calling for ol'' Mama anymore. I had to go all that way to see who was hollering in my house."


    Reynard made a face at her which I''m sure she didn''t see but I got a case of giggles when I noticed him do so.  He sighed and smiled at me and went to sit next to Mama Ruth''s ottoman on which she had been resting her legs. He began to press against her soles and Mama Ruth sat back with pleasure. Then she noticed me.


    "Y''all didn''t answer when I asked who you were," she said suddenly, eyeing me with suspicion like I was a sudden pimple on her face, deciding if it was best to pop it or let it be. "Lass, what''s your name?"


    I tightened the cloth around my face and replied firmly, "My name''s Ashli Rivers, ma''am."


    Mama Ruth scoffed.


    "It''s the first time someone''s called me that. ''Ma''am'', huh?" She shook her head, "I hate that. Call me Mama or Mama Ruth, like everyone does. Except for that bastard, Cliff or something. He better address me as Your Majesty or I''m gonna have his bones for broth."


    She shook he fist into the air before. I laughed, though very softly. Mama Ruth really was something else.


    "So," Mama Ruth said, turning to Reynard by her feet who was still pressing her soles, "what makes you come so far out here? Surely, you aren''t here to just meet me and massage my feet, are you?"


    Reynard was clearly hesitating. "Mama, did you hear the news?" he asked after a while, risking a glance at me.


    Mama Ruth leaned forward, thirsty for the tea. "What news? There''s been news in this boring ol'' city?"


    Reynard shook his head. "I was joking," he chuckled, glancing at me again. I flashed him an alarmed expression which said that he was walking on thin ice, but he ignored me and went back to talking.


    "Mama, what do you make of the Imperial Crown Princess?" he asked softly, picking up a round object from under his leg which appeared to be an ornament of some sort. There were small, tinkling things all over the patterned carpet on the floor. It was very clear that this woman rarely cleaned.


    Mama Ruth coughed hoarsely before answering. "I don''t have a think against the poor soul," she said nonchalantly, but I could see the sadness behind her old grey eyes. "Honestly, it ain''t her fault she was born a girl and it most certainly wasn''t her fault that the girl just happened to be the daughter of an Emperor. And our Emperor, no less."


    "So you''re against the whole prophecy thing?" I asked quietly.


    She smashed her tiny fist on the arm-rest, rage masked behind her wise eyes. "You bet I do. It''s all a fa?ade for power anyways. The old priestess- whoever she was- well she absolutely had to make herself a legend or something in her dying moments. If I could, I''d personally go back and kill her before she spat the crap out myself. The princess never did nothing wrong."


    I nodded along with her every word. Reynard was looking up at her with pursed lips.


    "So..." he began, thinking over his words. "So if I tell you that we could save the princess together, would you help?"


    I coughed loudly. Reynard didn''t even flinch. Mama Ruth looked at the ceiling with a wistful expression.


    "I don''t know," she croaked after a long, long while. "Sometimes I think I would, but sometimes I find myself wondering ''what would I gain from all''a that?'' But I''m an old lady...a little bit of adventurous conduct would do no one no harm." She chuckled hoarsely at the end. "I''d do it for the thrill."


    Reynard burst out laughing. It seemed that he was at ease discussing the subject but as for me, I was dying of anxiety. I clamped and unclamped my free hand nervously, my eyes darting from Reynard to Mama. What if Mama Ruth realizes where he was getting at and when she connects the pieces, she reports us?


    I opened my mouth to speak up when suddenly, Mama Ruth jumped off her arm chair and hobbled to the far side of the room. She came back clutching a little fur ball in her arms and sat back down.


    "Rainy boy, meet Whisker," she coo''ed. "He''s my pet rat and a very good boy, too."


    My eyes widened as the fur ball in her arms began twitching and turning, and soon, a nose appeared from it''s side followed closely by a pair of black beady eyes on each side. It was a rat alright, and very big, too.


    I gulped as I edged towards the door in case the rat decided to start scurrying on the floor. I glanced at where Mama Ruth had picked Whisker up from and there, in the very corner, was a small velvet cushion in front of which was a little bowl for water and another for something that looked like meat.


    Reynard didn''t seem disgusted at all.


    "You never mentioned anything about a pet before," he said as he let his hands fall into his lap. It seemed like he was tired of massaging her.


    "Oh, but I''ve had him for a while now," Mama said as she stroked the grey fur of her beloved pet. "You''d have known if you cared asking."


    Reynard guffawed but didn''t ask further. Instead he looked at me and winked, probably because I looked so horrified.


    "Mama," he asked suddenly, "have you still got the spare rooms?"


    Mama Ruth looked up from her rat. "Why? Did your momma kick you to the curb? Honestly, I wouldn''t be surprised."


    "No..." Reynard said, annoyed. "Could you let Ashli stay for a few days? Just a temporary adjustment, of course. Her mother''s at the health center and she''s afraid of being alone."


    Mama scoffed as she rolled her eyes. For a second, I was afraid that Reynard wasn''t gonna manage it for me.


    "Who''s Ashli? This lass?" She pointed at me. "The one who hasn''t spoken at all? Say, lassie whateveryournamewas, don''t you have no papa?"


    I shook my head. I could have said ''no'' but my mouth refused to speak.


    "Hmm..." Mama leaned back, patting Whisker on the back who had apparently gone asleep. "For free?" She looked at Reynard by her feet and adjusted her specs.


    Reynard shrugged. "I''d say so. She can help clean up and stuff in exchange. This place is a dump."


    He received a swift kick by Mama for saying that. I flinched.


    "Fine," she said as she stared into space. "Sven''s been asking me for a lending hand anyways. Lone boy''s got to do it all alone."


    Reynard was about to ask, "Who''s Sven?" again, when there was a loud rapping at the front door. Even though we were in another room altogether, we all still jumped at that.


    "Damn whoever''s set on ruining my day," Mama cursed as she frowned. Reynard started getting up to check when Mama stopped him mid-way. "Don''t bother. Sven will get it." Reynard plopped back down.


    We all focused on what was happening outside as we heard muffled voices. Two of them.


    "What''s taking so long?" Reynard muttered under his breath. He looked at me and I knew at once what he was thinking, because I had been thinking the same thing: What if the Guards were here?


    I gulped and backed into the corner so that when the door opened, I wouldn''t be in direct line of sight. Reynard, meanwhile, fidgeted with his hands and nervously kept his eyes on the door.


    For a long while, there was no commotion. Then someone opened the door and I held my breath.


    "Ah, Sven," Mama Ruth beamed at whoever was peeking in. "Who was at the door?"


    "A palace guard," said a husky voice. "They were spreading the news about the lost princess."


    "Palace guard?" Mama asked, as she leaned in. "Lost princess? How strange... How very, very strange. You can go now, I''ll call you in later."


    I released my breath when the door finally closed. Now that I could see Reynard, I saw that he was sweating and had refused to meet Mama Ruth''s eyes.


    "Tots." Mama Ruth said quietly but there was an intimidating factor to her tone. "What''s all this about?"


    Quickly, Reynard butt in. "Nothing to worry about, Mama," he uttered. "They''re saying that the princess is probably still hiding at the palace. The ceremony must''ve given her a fright."


    "She''s been lost since the ceremony?" Mama exclaimed. "That''s been, what, 3 days? 4 days? Why would she hide for so long without food and water? What, has she found companions in the shrubbery? People can be so foolish. She probably ran away."


    "Mama-"


    "And I''d welcome her with full arms if she decided to show up here," Mama muttered. "Hell, I''d even disguise her as my own daughter. Poor soul, scared stiff to have to succumb to running away. I wonder how she must''ve found out about the wretched prophecy..."


    Reynard coughed. And coughed again, this time, staring straight at me.


    "Mama, are you true to your word?" he asked seriously as he turned to her.


    Mama didn''t even hesitate. "You bet I am!"


    "Then Mama," he said as he gestured to me, oblivious of my horrified expression, "will you be willing to keep Her Highness at your inn for a few days?"


    I choked. Mama choked. Whisker woke up from his sleep and jumped off her lap and ran free on the carpet blindly. I screamed and Reynard jumped to his feet. For a moment, there was total chaos as Mama ran around the room to catch her rat and I jumped on top of her ottoman, screaming and squealing at Reynard to help.


    Sven came to check up on us and the rat scurried out the door and into the darkness beyond. Then, all was calm.


    "Is it goneˇ­?" I whispered, glancing around the room.


    Mama told Sven to go get Whisker for her and sat down on her armchair, fanning herself with her hand.


    "Oh dear, lass, you''ve a blessed set of lungs right there..." she muttered bitterly. Then she looked at me as if studying me and then lowered her head. "...Your Highness."


    I gasped, not knowing what to do. Should I deny it? Should I laugh it off? Or rather... should I curtsy back and welcome what comes to me later on?


    After a long while of contemplating, I decided ''ehhh, whatever. Let''s go with the 3rd''.

 Chapter 49 - Acception

    "You stay here!" she declared as she pushed open a door. As bad as it may have been, it was a room, after all.


    Apparently, Mama Ruth had known from the very moment Reynard brought up the subject about the imperial princess, that something was fishy. Even though I had flashed him several warning signs to diffuse the topic, the fool continued to discuss it and it led to her suspecting us.


    If it had been someone else, I''d already be on my way back to the palace and Reynard to the dungeons. Thank goodness Mama was a tough rock.


    I peeked into my designated room and was instantly met by fleas and dust. I retreated in a fit of coughs and frowned. Mama Ruth chuckled.


    "I''ll ask Sven to sweep it up a bit," she said as she turned her back to me. "All the rooms are similar so you mustn''t feel that I assigned you the worst one. All it needs is a bit of cleaning up."


    Mama went back downstairs till she merged with the darkness and I turned to my new home for the next few days...weeks, probably, in case I didn''t get caught. Though it wouldn''t be soon till the guards get all up in here as well.


    I walked in over creaking floorboards and dropped my black head drape on the musty bed. The trickle of light coming through the small barred window on one wall was the only source of light that kept the room recognizable enough. On one side was a small bed, similar to the ones in modern-day prisons. There was a small nightstand and an ugly brown rug next to it; it smelled like socks.


    The general smell in here was making me gag. It smelled like a combination of mold and strong cheese- not the tasty kind, too. With my hands on my hips, I observed my surroundings and laughed as if I couldn''t believe what I was going through. I wasn''t surprised anymore why Mama Ruth''s visitors decided to move: any place was better than this.


    I sighed and went back downstairs, clutching the folds of my dress to keep  me from tripping over the wooden stairs which looked like they''d slip under my feet at any moment. I looked like a widow in mourning in my black hair and dress, and with the black head-cloth, I looked like the whole comic.


    "Back already?" Mama asked as she stood on the foot of the stairs.


    I nodded. "There wasn''t much to look at."


    Mama Ruth frowned, all the creases on her face folding into waves. "Not suited to your refined tastes. I believe? It''s the best we can make-do with, at the moment, so hold your horses till things settle down. I still can''t believe I''m housing a princess under my roof. Unbelievable."


    I watched silently as Mama Ruth ricocheted around the dark for a while with only a single candle to illuminate her way and then I remembered to ask.


    "Erm, Mama Ruth? Why aren''t there any lights in here? I don''t see lit lanterns or anythingˇ­ how do you find your way as nightfall approaches?"


    Mama Ruth answered without turning to look at me. "Too expensive," she muttered. "Saving coins is the only way to survive at the moment."


    She didn''t sound too happy as she said that. In fact, I wondered if she was miserable even though she pretended to be so strong-headed.


    "Mama, I could help clean up if you want. If you ask him, Reynard might even spare some coins to buy you a few lanterns. They only go for a few coppers on the Market, if I remember correctly," I offered quietly from the stairs. I played with my tresses while I waited for her reply.


    She didn''t say anything, at the end. She just walked off with the old-woman''s hobble she had developed. I felt kind of sad for her.


    Still, I decided not to prod further and went looking for Sven who Mama had assured me would be cleaning my room. It was so dark, that for a while I had to


    walk by guiding my hands along the walls, coming to dead end after dead end till I finally touched a brass door knob. I heard some shuffling from the other side of the door, so I was certain that Sven must be there.


    At the same moment I pushed open the door, the door got pulled by a stronger force from the other side and I was yanked ahead. I gasped at the sudden movement and looked up at the force-exerter that had pulled me in strongly, strong enough that I felt my face stuck against some kind of cloth and something soft underneath it. When my eyes finally focused, I gasped again as I pulled away.


    In front of me was a tall figure- taller than I''d imagined a human could ever be- which loomed over me under the doorway. As if paralyzed, my legs refused to step back and I just stood there with penetrating fear as I stared up.


    A moment later, the figure ''ahem ahem''ed'' hoarsely and stepped back.


    "In?" he said monotonously, the single syllable ringing with bass. His voice shook my heart, the same way it had done when he had delivered us news of the guard outside.


    I was facing Sven.


    "Erm, no thanks," I said, cringing at how robotic my voice sounded. I pulled on my sleeves cautiously, something I did when I was nervous. "Mama Ruth asked you to clean my room up a little; it''s very, very dusty."


    The figure nodded. There was a window behind him which resulted in back-lighting him, so I saw the golden wisps of his hair bob up and down as he nodded. Strangely, I thought, he looked like a boss God over here.


    With lanky moves, Sven shuffled past me and I waited to hear the ''thud thuds'' that would be the indications that he was climbing the stairs. Instead, I heard nothing, not even the soft thumps of his steps. It seemed that he had stopped.


    "S-Sven?" I squeaked, wondering what was wrong.


    I heard a faint mumble, much too faint for me to make sense of.


    "What?"


    "Which room?" he asked, a bit louder this time.


    I licked my lips because they had suddenly gone very dry. "Third from the stairs."


    He nodded again and I watched him till the last ''thud'' was heard and I listened to a door upstairs opening.


    I clenched and unclenched my palms once before I moved on back to Mama Ruth''s room where she was talking gravely to Reynard about some matter. Both of them must''ve failed to notice me opening the door because never once did they give an indication that they acknowledged my existence. Instead, they continued to talk in hushed tones.


    "You did what?" Mama asked, momentarily forgetting that she was supposed to keep her voice down. "What are you, thick? They''re bound to see through that set-up."


    I nodded along with Mama Ruth''s claims; I was certain that they were discussing the ''Fraud Death'' plan.


    "Calm it, Mama," Reynard hissed hurriedly. "It''ll work out, I promise."


    "To hell with your promises!" Mama spat as she stared up angrily at Reynard. "What''re you gon'' do if you end up in the dungeons? What''s your momma gon'' do because your pap''s is most certainly going to get axed if his son ever gets caught."


    I winced. It was all my fault Reynard''s family could get in troubleˇ­ because I was the one who had the power to veto Reynard''s plan, and I decided to go along with it against all the odds. Me, me, meˇ­.


    I sighed loudly, which caused both Mama and Reynard to whip their faces in my direction.


    "Your Highness!" Reynard exclaimed heartily, though I knew that behind the mask he always chose to wear, he was very troubled. I pursed my lips and stared sadly into Reynard''s blue-green eyes. The smile on his face wiped off in an instant and the corners of his mouth pointed downwards as his eyebrows snapped together.


    "It''s okay..." I whispered, though I wasn''t sure if I was telling the truth. "We''re gonna be okay."


    "Let''s hope so," Mama jumped in. She patted- no more like, smacked- Reynard on the back. "Smile, boy!" she ordered. "If you''re gonna be unhappy, go and be unhappy on the streets. You ain''t welcome here if that''s what you came here to do, mope and complain. The same goes for you!" She pointed a crooked finger at me. "What are y''all, widows?"


    "I''m a man-"


    "To hell with men! To hell with this wretched world!" Mama was taking out all her anger on a poor cushion on the floor as she kicked it again and again. "I''m sick of this sh*t."


    I tried to stop the small laugh that was yet to escape my lips. I clamped my hands over my face to stop me from laughing but it came out in small, awkward squeaks. Reynard looked at me in alarm and then chuckled himself. It was soon that we were all laughing at our situation, not aware of the unrest that was about to envelop us the very next day.


    ________________________________________


    Just a thank you note to all my Readers!


    I''ll be forever grateful to all those who hyped my Novel and supported it and decided to give it a go. Why am I saying all this in this specific chapter? Well, no reason, really. I just felt like I should be thanking my lovely Readers because when someone adds my Novel to their library, or comments on it, or reviews it or gifts me something, I feel so, so happy. That''s all the motivation I have to keep working.


    So, Thank You!


    Moreover, just a quick reminder that my exams are gonna be...erm...resuming soon, so I might have to work on that, lmao (Those are in October, haha.) But still, I work long hours just to produce good chapters and when I receive good feedback on them, my heart just...flutters!


    (Also, just an insight haha, Chapter 49 and 50 got mixed up and I had to work almost an hour to redo them and stuff, so that''s that :''))


    What else...? Oh yeah, I''m working on a new Novel, if you didn''t hear.


    It''s called GHOST DETECTIVE: Li Xiajun, you can find it on Webnovel if you want! Go support that one too, everyone. (It''s a great story! The name says it all muahaha. There''re ghosts, and a detective. Isn''t that so cool?)


    Okay. this is getting long, but do I want to continue spouting nonsense? Yes I do. I''ve been working on some new drawings for some chapters, don''t know when I''ll finish those, haha... *cries* My schools are opening from the 16th and the fact has been killing me. I hate school just like most of you. (and if you don''t hate school... I can''t do nothing about you lol.)


    I was thinking about opening commissions, but I''m so busy as it is, I doubt I''ll be able to handle the pressure. Though if many people say I should, then mayyybeeee my mind may change.


    Okay, anyways... cya!


    Suoshi.

 Chapter 50 - A Princess At Work

    The next morning when I awoke, I knew something was wrong. Something was very wrong.


    Hurriedly, I slipped on the slippers Mama had provided me to walk around the inn and hurried on downstairs. On the landing, Sven was sweeping up. Yesterday, I hadn''t been able to identify his features much because of the darkness...but now, since morning light was flooding through every window, I could see him crisp and clear.


    He was tall, like I had said. His silvery-white hair had grown long into a mullet which framed his lean face. He wore a mid-thigh length tunic with draw-strings at the chest in a criss-cross pattern over which he had donned a sleeveless, brown jacket thing which seemed very thin and ragged. Under all of this, he wore plain trousers and holed slippers like mine.


    A picture book representation of a peasant worker, though his face wasn''t much like one''s with his large hazel eyes that stared into mine and a very nice complexion to top it all off. As I got closer to walk towards the kitchen, I noticed that he had a little mole near his lip on the right side.


    I pushed open the kitchen door and was instantly met by grey wisps of smoke. Mama had her back to me as she thrusted firewood into the little stove which had a long snout that ended out the ceiling, something I had noticed at Faustine''s home as well.


    I let out a loud breath and rolled up my sleeves, glancing around the kitchen for rations. But I only saw a small basket of potatoes stuck in one corner.


    "Mama, let me help," I said quickly when I saw her struggling with the firewood. I hurried over next to her and she leaped back, startled at my presence. Maybe she hadn''t heard me when I enteredˇ­


    "Goodness gracious..." she muttered as she slowed her pulse with a calm hand to her chest. "You scared the living critters out of me. What''re ya doing up so early, eh?"


    I raised my eyebrows as I shoved the piece of wood into the fire and watched it merge with the orange flames.


    "Lack of curtains," I commented as I stood up straight and checked my hands for splinters. I was surprised that Mama Ruth hadn''t stopped me from helping her with the fire ''because I was a princess and princesses ought to be clean''. She had, in fact, handed me the wood herself.


    "Mmm," she muttered as she hobbled over to the potato basket. "I''ll see if Sven can scavenge for some spare fabric from the storage. You can flip it over the rail and use it as a curtain later."


    As she talked, she bustled around the small kitchen, flipping the potatoes in a pot and filling the pot with water to the brim from a tap in the corner. Then she put the pot over the stove and waited for it to boil while I stood there awkwardly and watched her do all the work.


    Mama was a short woman but it looked as if she hadn''t always been that way. Old age had gotten the best of her, apparently. I offered to help her wherever I thought fit and Mama Ruth never gave the offer up.


    "So...what''s for breakfast?" I asked as I saw her chop up the boiled potatoes.


    "Mashed spud," she grunted.


    I was about to ask what the hell that even was when Sven opened the door.


    "Done with the ground, ''um," he said huskily as he did a one-take at me. "Do you want me to do all the rooms on the first or just her''s?"


    "Thanks, Sev, sonny," Mama said as she slid all the chopped potatoes into a bowl. "Her''s is fine. And did you sweep my room?"


    "No."


    "Good. Don''t touch it. I''ve got my stuff spilled around and Whisker hates it when the carpet''s all clean."


    Silently, Sven shuffled back outside again and not before he had scanned me once again. I felt awfully uncomfortable as he did so, wondering if he''d comment about me but he just looked and left. His eyes never held the expression that he had any ill means of studying me.


    I turned back to Mama mashing the potatoes. I didn''t say anything when she sprinkled the mashed potatoes with salt and coarse black grains that looked like black pepper.


    "Here, hold this-" She thrust the bowl of mashed potatoes at me. Then she proceeded to fill a small pitcher full with water and then she handed that to me as well. I stood near the doorway with both my hands filled and she pushed me aside as she hobbled out with plates and glasses in her hands. I didn''t say anything at all but I did find it funny.


    "We''ll eat wherever you want," she said as she glanced at me above her specs when we were out in the main room where Sven had been sweeping before. Like at Faustine''s, the floors were made of wood but the walls were made of some yellowish stone.


    I struggled with the pitcher and the bowl as my hands were thin and frail, smoothed by never handling anything as heavy as this ever before. "Ermˇ­ we can eat wherever you guys usually eat. I don''t mind."


    Mama Ruth nodded and then called for Sven. He was up cleaning my room and he came back as soon as his name was bellowed.


    "Bring out the table and the crates, Sven," Mama Ruth said as she looked up at her helper. I say ''helper'' as I still had no idea what the relationship between the two was. Mama Ruth was yet to show any sign that Sven was her son or nephew or whatever and I wasn''t one to assume.


    Sven disappeared again and the next time he reappeared on top of the stairs, he was holding a wooden table over his shoulders and something under his arm that looked like a box. I waited as he descended and placed the table with a loud thud smackdab in the middle of the floor before us. Then, he proceeded to pull out box after box from the first box which he decorated neatly around the table and then sat himself down on the one closest to him.


    My arms had started to hurt so I put the bowl of mashed potatoes and the pitcher on the table and unconsciously sat down on the box Sven had put next to my feet. To my surprise, it was wooden and hard and didn''t collapse under my weight.


    Mama distributed the plates and we started to eat.


    It was the first time I was served such a bland meal since the day I arrived in this world but it did remind me of back home. Silently, we chewed on the ''Mashed spud'' as Mama called it. The only sound around us was the chewing sounds and the occasional clinking of spoons to our plates. Sven poured himself a glass of water and continued his meal in complete silence.


    Now that I was in very close proximity to him, I studied his face. His cheeks were hollow, as if he hadn''t eaten much in the past month. But there was a healthy color on his face so I had to rule that out. He had droopy eyes, like a dog''s and when he looked at me, his eyes lacked any shine.


    Quickly, I smiled at him when he looked at me but I didn''t receive a smile back, not even a side-lipped one. He went back to eating and didn''t make any other movements till he was done. We all finished our small, bland meal quite soon and Sven picked up the table and crates once again and disappeared back upstairs.


    Mama had just picked up the plates when there was a knock at the door.


    "Whoozit this time?" Mama grumbled as she thrust the plates at me and went to answer.


    I knew that it was rude to eavesdrop so I picked up all the dishes myself and one-by-one placed them on the kitchen counter. I was just rinsing my hands off when I heard the door shut outside and I went to see what it had all been about.


    "Who was it?" I asked quietly as I rubbed my wet hands on the sides of my dress.


    Mama turned around and I noticed that a very unsure expression was inscribed in her wrinkles.


    "It was Nadja from up the street. Said that the princess has allegedly been killed. Rumors all over the place. People going crazy and whatnot," she said, looking a little faint. "Seems like Rainy boy''s plan worked."


    I sighed with relief, though deep down I did feel a bit uneasy about the whole thing.


    "Are the guards investigating?" I asked as I fidgeted with my feet.


    "Most likely," she muttered as her shoulders drooped. "The Emperor''s no man to give up by just some mere speculation."


    I ''hmm''ed'' as Mama Ruth hobbled to her fortune-teller like room and shut herself in.  This could turn out very bad, worse than before. What if the Emperor starts executing people accused of the princess''s death in a blind rage? What if his love for his daughter ran deeper than I thoughtˇ­?


    I was in deep thought when I heard a loud clatter somewhere from above. I hurried upstairs and saw that Sven was groaning on the floor in the doorway of my room.


    "Are you alrightˇ­?" I asked uncertainly as I reached out a hand to help.


    He didn''t say anything but a faint  ''Mn'' as he got up with jerky movements. My hand remained in the air and I awkwardly let it fall to my side when he didn''t accept my help. When he was up, he walked past me and into the room at the very end of the corridor. His room, perhaps.


    The door was open so I thought it would be alright to peek in. But then I wondered if I would appear unpleasant by getting all up in his personal space. But then I decided in favor of it and I tip-toed to the end of the corridor to take a look.


    If Mama had said that all the rooms were the same, how had he set up his?


    My hair appeared in the doorway, followed by my forehead and then my eyes, and I took a good peek. If I had thought Sven would be creative enough to have his room set differently than the rest, I was wrong.


    It was exactly the same as mine when I had first opened the door, but a cleaner and a more fly-free version, of course. The bed was pushed to the side (like mine) with the small dresser and the ugly rug in front (his was a navy blue) and a grandma-like flowery cloth over his window, serving as a make-shift curtain.


    Sven was laying on his bed, his back to me. He barely seemed to fit on it, but he had his knees up to his chin and he was shaking one foot vigorously. (Something similar to what Juwon used to do either when he had trouble focusing or when he just wanted to relax. I asked him to stop doing it once but he wasn''t able to even if he tried.)


    He had no blanket or anything over him but then it didn''t look as if he was trying to sleep. The broom was leaned against the foot of his bed which was vibrating due to Sven''s continuous leg shaking.


    Sadly, I turned back around and silently went to my own room.

 Chapter 51 - Leaving No Door Unopened

    After a whole morning of lolling around and doing nothing, I decided to explore.


    "Right, where shall I start first?" I mumbled to myself as I walked softly around the corridor.


    To my right were 7 rooms in total, the 3rd being mine and the last of the seven being Sven''s. Slowly, I turned the knob of the first room and pushed the door open, not surprised that dust was there to greet me. I kept in the irritated cough that was about to escape me and moved on to the next door. Same old: Dust, a bed, a nightstand and a rug greyed with dirt. I closed the door and walked past my room to the 4th one. Nothing special, everything coupled the other rooms.


    Mama hadn''t been lying when she said that all the rooms were the same.


    A little bored now, I moved my hand from the 4th doorknob to the 5th one and was confounded that it didn''t open when I gave it a twist.


    "What the heck..."


    I twisted it once again and pushed in with my shoulder but nope, it did not give way. How strange was it that only one of the 7 rooms was locked, and not even because of caducity or gathered dust, it was really locked. With a key. I knew because when I pushed, a little gap appeared in the door overhead.


    My fingers traced the little keyhole under the knob and I wondered if I could get it open with the wire trick Reynard was trying on in the West-wing palace that day. But since he had failed, I doubt I''d succeed even if I tried. I was staring at the keyhole for a long time, wondering what was concealed inside for having Mama Ruth to resort to locking the door altogether.


    When I saw my shadow on the door get taller... and tallerˇ­ and taller, I turned around with a jolt and saw Svan bearing over me.


    "What are you doing?" he said angrily, his eyebrows snapped together.


    It was as if I had been caught in the act, doing something unheard of. But I hadn''t been doing anything at all, so I stuck my chin up and stared straight into his eyes which narrowed when I didn''t answer.


    Eventually, he sighed and stood back. "Don''t be nosy," he said gruffly and then walked back to his room.


    I stood rooted to my spot till he disappeared through the doorway and I let out a long breath which I had been keeping in. Good God, the boy''s a monster with that heightˇ­.


    I turned around to the door and stared at it for another few seconds before scoffing and skipping back downstairs.


    "Mama Ruthˇ­?" I asked quietly as I opened the door to her room. She was fast asleep in her armchair with Whisker in her lap. I paused at the door, watching both of them if they had woken up by my voice but Mama Ruth continued to snore and believe it or not, so did Whisker.


    Quietly, I stepped in and closed the door behind me. Looking around, I was able to notice a lot more about the fantastical room now that there was a bit more light. The whole floor had been covered with an old-fashioned carpet, the kind which would produce static if you rub your feet on it for a while.


    With soft steps, I tip-toed over all of Mama Ruth''s belongings which, I noticed, included some of the following: little finger dolls, many crystal-like stones, carved wooden figurines, ornaments like the ones people hang on Christmas trees, jewelry, a scruffy, torn piece of tie-dye fabric and so, so much more which I didn''t bother mentioning.


    I looked around from the tapestries and unnecessary flower branches displayed on the emerald green walls, looking if there was a set of keys somewhere. But there were so many trinkets here, a set of keys would be like finding a needle in a haystack.


    Every now and then, I remembered to glance at Mama Ruth and her pet rat but both were indulged in their morning nap. Like owner, like pet, no?


    I stifled a chuckle but smiled as I observed a painting on the wall next to me. It was a picture like those old Victorian oil paintings I often saw in antique stores or the kind Jieum told me about from her visit to the museum. A painting of a girl sitting on a stool wearing a pinafore over a puffy white blouse and a large pink fascinator over her elaborate baby-pink bonnet. Her whole head was embellished with roses and ribbons. She looked quite lovely with her rosy, pink cheeks and her small, button nose but her large, brown eyes did creep me out. It was like the Mona Lisa: wherever you went, from whichever angle you saw, the painting seemed to stare straight at you. The girl had her feet crossed, the tip of her shoe touched the border of the unframed painting.


    I traced the edge where her shoe touched and noticed that the paint was scraped, as if someone had been touching at it for a very long time. I stood back, my eyes sweeping over the painting once. Something was definitely out of place.


    I was afraid if I touched the painting, it would fall. I looked over my shoulder at Mama and Whisker once again before I attempted something. Fortunately, they were still asleep.


    "Ho-okay..." I wriggled a finger behind the painting at the very point the paint had been scrapped, and noticed that there was just enough finger-space behind there to wedge a finger.


    When I had successfully gripped the border of the painting, I pulled it and the painting parted from the wall from one side. It was a secret door!


    Oh my God, it was a secret door. No way...!


    I pulled again and the painting swung completely open, revealing a small wooden door in the middle of the wall behind. The wooden door was just big enough for someone to fit their head in it. I pulled the door open, expecting to find a stack of coins or some property papers or something else equally valuable. But what do you know, as I slowly pulled open the tiny door, I found...nothing.


    "That''s strange..." I mumbled as I squinted to look in. Why had Mama Ruth had built such a hidden encasement for there to be nothing in it at all? I felt with my hands on the floor of the little cabinet, wondering if there was something I had missed. I touched wood and small dust balls but as I felt the back of the cabinet, I felt something solid. Metal, this was. I pulled out the object and studied it. As I realized what it was, my eyes widened and my mouth curled up in a large grin.


    A key!


    I had found the key to the locked room!


    For a moment, I contemplated putting it back and chastised myself for being so nosy, but then I thought, ''Meh, what''s the worst Mama Ruth could do to me?'' It''s not like the room had anything dangerous worth concealing, anyway. It was probably just a storage room or something.


    Slowly, I closed the door and pushed the painting back in place. I twisted the key around in my hands and turned around to leave and when I did, Mama Ruth''s eyes were open.


    I stopped right there in my tracks, my eyes widening as I realized what I may have done and Mama would have caught all of it. My lips trembled open and I whimpered like a little puppy caught in the act, but even though her eyes were open, Mama kept snoring and I sighed.


    Maybe she was just one of those people who slept with their eyes open.


    Silently, I exited the room.


    ?


    [That Morning at the Palace]


    "Your Majesty!" the cry bounced off the glass walls.


    His Majesty, the Emperor was taking a walk in his private conservatory, surveying the many plants and flowers, when he heard a guard run his way.


    "Your Majesty, we''ve got awful news," the guard said as he hastily bowed and didn''t even wait for the Emperor to allow him to rise. "T-the Princess! She- We foundˇ­ Er.."


    "Calm down," the Emperor said, appearing quite tranquil and collected himself as he stuck his nose in a rose he had plucked from the many around him. "So she''s been found, you sayˇ­?"


    The guard wiped the sweat off his forehead and avoided the Emperor''s gaze. "Erˇ­ No, Your Majesty."


    The Emperor cocked an eyebrow, seeming not too troubled by the news.


    "Then what is it that you''ve come to relay to me after causing such a ruckus in the halls?" he said, side-eyeing the guard as he touched the petals of a rare camellia.


    "Erˇ­ Do not be frightened by the news, Your Majesty, but we found a letter left by Her Highness''s kidnappers. He wrote some rather morbid insults about her, may God damn him, and left quite a long explanation as to why he did what he...did."


    "And what is it that the kidnapper may have done? Have you the letter on you?" the Emperor asked airily as he outstretched a hand towards the guard. The guard hesitated and wiped off his forehead once again as he pulled out a thick parchment from his pocket and presented it to the Emperor.


    The Emperor took it and didn''t even flinch at the fact that there were blood droplets on the outer surface of the parchment. It was a cheap sort of paper, the one you could purchase easily in the Markets, no big deal.


    The Emperor dropped the rose he held in his hand and stepped on it with his feet and pressed. The guard lowered his gaze and visibly gulped at the vile act, but didn''t comment. The Emperor smirked with the side of his lips not in the line of sight of the guard and with the clearing of his throat, he started to readˇ­.

 Chapter 52 - The Emperors Rage

    "What is this!?" bellowed the Emperor as he thrust the letter at the guard and stomped out of the conservatory. "Absolutely absurd! I''ve never heard of it!"


    The Emperor yanked open the door of his office and walked out swiftly and into the corridor. From the opposite side, Sir Gradral was walking towards the Emperor, probably for his own affairs but the Emperor beckoned to him as he kept walking.


    "Gradral. Have you heard?"


    Sir Gradral shook his head as he followed the Emperor to somewhere only he knew best. "Forgive me, Your Majesty, has something happened? You seem enraged."


    "You bet I am!" the Emperor bellowed and started walking faster, making it hard for Sir Gradral to follow his pace. "Some wretched fool claims that they''ve killed Cynthia."


    Sir Gradral stopped short. "Whatˇ­?" He started walking again when he realized the Emperor wasn''t going to stop for him. "How''s that possible?"


    The Emperor seethed but didn''t answer. With a flourish of his robes, he trotted out of the palace''s back entrance and walked straight for the barracks.


    "Your Majesty, do calm your rage," Sir Gradral said worriedly as he caught a glimpse of the fury in the Emperor''s eyes.


    "Don''t tell me what to do, Simon," the Emperor yelled angrily as clenched his fists and kept walking.


    Shocked, Sir Gradral slowed down but picked up his pace again, for he knew that if he didn''t accompany His Majesty, he would kill all the guards for not doing a proper job.


    "She''s just a puny bratˇ­." the Emperor was muttering furiously, sweat drops flying out blindly. "How could someone kidnap her?  How, against all the watchful eyes of my so-called vigilant guards who claim they were on the lookout 24/7. How, I ask...."


    "Your Majesty-"


    But it was too late for Sir Gradral to calm his Master.


    The Emperor stormed on the training grounds where many guards and knights were practicing and some sat around on benches gulping water. As they noticed the Emperor approach them, they stood up and bowed, joining the guards in training who were already on their knees.


    "Your Majesty!" someone exclaimed from the crowd. "What brings you here?"


    Everyone dispersed like a shoal of fishes as the man who had spoken made his way to the Emperor, obviously oblivious of his fury. It was Commander Derik Sage, belonging to the 1st Quadrant of the special armed forces. He was in a happy mood at the moment, for he always was after a good spar with his mean which was exactly what he had been doing before the Emperor made a visit. He was shirtless and glistening with sweat, all of his war scars visible clearly on his chest and back.


    He was an old man, but quite active for his age and a great military commander as well. The Emperor was very proud of him, in fact, but right nowˇ­ he was plain mad.


    "Sage!" the Emperor snapped and the Commander flinched, for the Emperor was rarely in a foul mood. "How incapable did your men have to be to not have noticed some wretched men taking the puny brat out of the palace unnoticed?"


    "Your Majesty-"


    "Silence!" he seethed. "I''ve just received the news that Cynthia is dead. Dead, do you hear me!?"


    The Emperor was all up in Commander Sage''s face, effing and blinding. Sage pursed his lips as the enormity of the Emperor''s words started to settle in. All the knights and guards had likewise gone silent at the outburst and were exchanging nervous glances amongst themselves.


    "How absolutely morbid..."


    Commander Sage decided to shoot his shot. "Has the body been found, Your Majesty?"


    The Emperor''s eyes widened. He stood back and gaped at Commander Sage as he tried to compose himself. He exhaled slowly and shook his head, chuckling to himself.


    "No, because guess what, Sage?" the Emperor uttered as he leaned forward. "THEY BURNED THE BODY!"


    Everyone started murmuring as Commander Sage stood there, shocked. "Whatˇ­?"


    "You heard it, Sage," the Emperor hissed. "Is this how capable your guards are? Is this what you train them for!?"


    Commander Sage hung his head. "No, Your Majesty."


    The Emperor sighed as he massaged his temple. "I want you and your men to scatter out. Apparently, the letter was found in a hay storage somewhere in the middle of Eyress. Go there and check for clues. He''s written that he fled to a neighboring Empire. See if you can find any way to track the kidnapper. Bring. Him. To. Me. At any cost! Get out of my sight now, go."


    Commander Sage bowed low and then bellowed to his men to prepare the horses.


    "I need each and one of you to prepare for the hunt. Search around the city, hell, search the whole Empire, I say! Check with the men at the border crossings and seize anyone that seems suspicious. Do you understand my word?"


    A cry of ''Yes, Commander'' rang out in the training grounds and men hurried around to gather their uniform and weapons. Horses were brought out of the stables and were mounted each by a magnificent guard and soon, and by the time the Emperor was back in his office, the training grounds were left behind quite desolate.


    ?


    [Back at what once was Ogden Cove]


    I found the key!


    And not just any key, but a key to the closed door. This must be it!


    As soon as I was out of Mama''s room, I glanced to my left and right before dashing upstairs and approaching the 5th room.


    One thing that I didn''t understand was why Mama Ruth chose to close the 5th room only? Why not the first? Or the three after thatˇ­?


    Anyways, I checked in Sven''s room once again and from the way he was breathing, slow and shallow, he was likely fast asleep. I trotted back to Room#5 once again and slipped the key into the keyhole. With a soft click, it fixed into place like a puzzle piece.


    A part of me was worried that it wouldn''t twist. Slowly, I turned the key around and at first, it didn''t budge. I sighed and looked around me once again, looking if Sven had woken up or not. But I could still hear his slow breathing from down the corridor, so I turned back to the door and gave the key another twist with more force this time.


    Slowly but surely, the key started turning to its left.


    My eyes lit up and I turned the key around once again, watching with mild satisfaction as it turned a whole 180 degrees till it was completely upside down.


    "Right..." I whispered to myself. "It should open now."


    I don''t know. Maybe at the moment, my inner consciousness was screaming at me to not be nosy, not meddle with other people''s business. ''Don''t snoop around, don''t snoop around, please don''t snoop aroundˇ­'' my mind kept saying but I ignored it all. Now, when I was so close to discovering what was in the locked room, how could I ever give up?


    And then again, I knew that there could be absolutely nothing to it at all. What if Mama locked the door because this was a storage room now? What if I don''t find anything inside at all. but the usual dust and dirt balls?


    I gulped and with a gentle hand, I pushed at the door.


    Nothing happened.


    Gathering my composure, I pushed again and the door gave way just less than an inch. It was probably because of senescence that the hinges had aged rather badly, much to the point that they were proving difficult for the door to open.


    "Open up," I willed with mind as I stared intently at the door knob. "Open up, you old thing."


    And with a last push, the door really did creak all the way open. It was such a loud, old creak, just like an old hag, that for a second I was afraid that I''d be caught. But it seemed that Sven was a heavy sleeper and Mama didn''t hear anything because her door was shut, so I turned my head back towards the room and shivered.


    It was as if I stood at the entrance of a mine.


    It reeked, was the first thing I noticed. The room transmitted some sort of a musty smell, indicating that it hadn''t been cleaned in years. Carefully, I took a step forward and the floorboards groaned under my weight. Another step and another oneˇ­ I kept moving forward till I was in the heart of the room.


    Now I was definitely convinced when Mama had said that all rooms were the same. There really was nothing different about this room than mine and Sven''s. I ticked off the tacky bed, rug and nightstand on my mental list because that''s all there was.


    "That''s strange..." I muttered.


    Why had the room been locked then? I didn''t see anything worth hiding in here, after all, it was just a bare room stripped of all comfort. I scrunched my nose up as I eyed every corner vigilantly, wondering if there was anything hiding in the nooks and crannies and as expected, there was nothing.


    But the thought never left my mind: Why lock the door then?


    I was studying the walls which were in such a bad shape because water has seeped in through the cracks when I heard a creak from outside. Mama''s door was opening.


    Quickly, I exited the room and knocked it in haste, trying to make as little sound as possible.


    "Lassie?" Mama called from downstairs. "You there? Sven?"


    "Y-yes, just a moment!" I called as I pulled the key out of the hole and clenched it in my palms as I looked down from the banister.


    "What happened?" I asked as I innocently tilted my head. Mama narrowed her eyes up at me and placed her palms on her hips.


    "What''s Sven doing?"


    I turned the key around in my hand. "I''m sure he''s asleep. Why? If you need him to do something, I''ll do it!"


    Mama nodded. "Alright, go wipe the kitchen counters and mop the floor. I''ll be in my room."


    She turned around and went back to her room, shutting herself in once again.


    I sighed with relief. I went to my room and hid the key under the flimsy mattress and then skipped downstairs. Cleaning kitchens was nothing new for me, but if I was the real princess, I''d be appalled at Mama Ruth ordering me around.


    "But I''m not the princess, am I?" I smirked as I entered the kitchen and looked for a rag.

 Chapter 53 - Mama Chews The Fat

    A mass search in the Empire has started for the Crown Princess''s killer.


    I was slightly relieved now that everyone''s attention was on the fictitious murderer and not on the runaway princess aka me. But at the very same time, a deep unease had creeped up over me and I couldn''t help cautiously inspecting my surroundings before I entered a room. Any room


    "Did Rainy boy say he was coming by today?" Mama Ruth asked as stroked her rat who I''d grown quite fond of. He was either mostly asleep or just ate a lot and fell asleep after.


    His only human contact came when Mama Ruth picked him up for a stroking session everyday between morning to evening.


    I rubbed my fingers across the patterned carpet. "I don''t know. 7 days have gone by since I came here and I haven''t heard from him since."


    Mama nodded as she scratched her chin.


    "I wonder what''s wrong with the lad," she muttered as she stared into space.


    "Something might be going on at home," I said airily as I scratched something hard like gum stuck to the carpet. It came off in little chunks. "Have you heard any news about his mother, perhaps? Her condition hasn''t gotten worse, has it?"


    Mama shrugged and I quietly struggled to scratch off the last bits of gum.


    Like I said, 7 days had gone by for me as a free-loader in Mama Ruth''s residence. At first, calling Mama Ruth by her name had been quite weird for me because we were usually expected to call our mothers ''Mama'', a word deserving of love.


    And more so because Sven never called her Mama as well. Now that I think about it, I''ve never heard him address Mama Ruth by her preferred name. He rarely ever speaks and I''ve been ever so curious about him from the very first day.


    Anyways, Mama Ruth had practically made me her maid now, alongside Sven who was ever the hard worker, sweeping and mopping every day early in the morning. I don''t really mind cleaning because it made me less aware of the fact that I was leeching off of her for free and made me believe that I was actually giving her something in return.


    This was how my schedule had been for the past week:


    >Early morning, usually between 8am-10am: Wakeup and wash up. (Since there was a limited supply of water, I never got a proper chance at a shower and only had to pat myself clean with a wet rag.)


    >After that: Helping in the kitchen and then having breakfast along with Sven and Mama.


    >After THAT: Cleaning up once more and then helping Sven inside the inn. There usually wasn''t much work but Sven did make sure to sweep and mop every single day. (One day, I had skipped work because I developed a sudden pain in my ankle. I had expected that Sven would forgo work too because cleaning everyday wasn''t needed in the first place, but the same evening when I went downstairs to grab a glass of water, he was outside the inn and sweeping the street. I was appalled but I didn''t dare comment.)


    >After cleaning, everybody took a nap. It was most unusual compared to my life at the palace and at Faustine''s house. But since everyone was fast asleep and I had nothing else to do, I''d just joined the group.


    >After naps, everyone woke up at around dinner time. I was the one who usually woke up first and then I had to do the dire job of waking everyone up. (Most times when I entered Mama''s room, Whisker was awake and alert on her lap. I was too afraid to go up close to him in case he decided to go for another spree, so I would call Mama till she woke up with a start.)


    >Then we''d all have dinner after which I cleaned up the kitchen while Mama rested and Sven wiped the table.


    >Mama would call me in her room by the time Whisker was asleep. Then we''d talk about stuff while I massaged her feet. That was one of the best and one of the most awkward times of the day.


    >After that, everyone turned in early into the night.


    "Y''all should clean the attic tomorrow," Mama said after she had asked me about Reynard.


    "There''s an attic?" I asked. Maybe the hint of excitement in my voice was very detectable because Mama smiled, her smile lines creasing in.


    "Oh yeah, didn''t you know?" she asked as she stroked Whisker''s fur. "But I mostly use it for storage. Though it does need cleaning up... Ask Sven to help you."


    I ''mm''d'' for a while and stared around. Then it hit me to ask.


    "Mama, did you forget I''m a princess?" I sat up straight and pointed an accusing finger in her direction. "How dare you order your Princess around? I demand you get executed."


    Mama swatted my hands away, her lips up in a smirk.


    "If you''re the princess then I''m the Queen," she croaked, chuckling. "Nothing comes for free, girly. I don''t care if you''re a princess or whatever, you gotta earn it if you want to live in my house. What alias did you use before, eh? Ash, was it?"


    "Ashli," I said softly, imitating Reynard''s accent. "Ashli Rivers. I chose it myself, though the surname was Reynard''s idea."


    Mama scoffed, rolling her grey eyes. "How uncreative. As expected of ''im."


    I laughed as I stared at my feet. "Mama, I forgot to bring my dresses from Faustine''s. Do you have any idea about how I could retrieve themˇ­? This black dress needs washing." Somehow, I had gone by in 1 dress for 7 days straight, but now it was getting smelly and dusty which really bothered me.


    Mama nodded. "Faustine, eh? The one who went to the academy with Amice? She was her best friend, ya know."


    "She was?" I had no idea.


    "Oh yeah. My own daughter went to the academy with them so I know."


    My eyes widened. "You have a daughter?"


    "Had," Mama sighed. "She died."


    My shoulder slumped. "My condolences."


    "Nah," she muttered, her grey eyes staring into nothingness. "She was a bright spark like yerself. I named her ''Lissy''. Lissy Swailes. Lissy, Amice and Faustine, whom they used to call Tina back in the day, all three of them were the closest of fellows, always stuck to each other like hooks."


    I was leaning in. "So what happened to her?"


    Mama shook her head and sighed. "She got hit by a palace carriage. Since then, I''ve despised the royal family."


    I gulped as I clenched my hands together. "D-do you hate me too?"


    Mama shook her head again and looked at me, and right there for the very first time, I truly felt sad.


    "Not once. Whenever you made any public appearances, you looked so, so sadˇ­ I wondered if you felt suffocated as a member of the Royal Family."


    I stared at her. "Public appearances? None of it comes to mind..."


    She sighed. "Don''t be silly. I remember very well the day you made a speech to the locals of Wisteria at your debutante ball. I was in the crowd, you know? Watching. And when I looked up at you, I wondered if I could ever hate a small, scared creature like you. You seemed so shy and conservative, like a kitten, I''d say."


    I laughed softly. So that''s what the past princess had been like. Shy and conservative, huh? Had I been too... had by been different?


    Mama continued. "Though now when I look at you, I wonder if the scary little girl had just been a figment of my imagination. You are unlike your past self in so many ways. It amazes me! Maybe the break from the palace was just what you needed."


    I smiled sadly as I pushed my black hair out of my eyes.


    "You might be right there. Mama Ruth."


    ?


    "Sven! Sven, wake up," I whispered loudly as I poked him in the shoulder, his shoulder blades colliding hardly against my fingers. "Hey, Sven!"


    "Mn." He shuffled around in his sleep.


    I sighed, frustrated. He was the hardest to wake up and it usually took me around 10 minutes to get him out of bed. It wasn''t like we were on friendly terms, but Sven didn''t seem to mind my presence. Well, he never even questioned my presence in the first place, he just quietly accepted it.


    "Oi, Sven!"


    "What?" he hissed as he snapped his head around and peered up at me.


    I put my hands on my shoulders. "Mama''s saying we need to clean the attic; it''s filthy!" Honestly, I had no idea if it was filthy or whatnot. I just needed him up.


    Slowly, he groaned and grunted as he sat up and looked at me.


    I raised one eyebrow, a wordless way to ask ''What?'', but he didn''t respond. He kept staring at my face. After a while, he grunted and stood up, his long figure towering over me.


    "I''ll be out," he muttered as he turned his back to me.


    I shrugged and left his room, stopping briefly by the 5th door. I had locked it again and since that very day, it remained unopened.


    Uneasily, I waited for Sven by my room and he came back wearing a lime green shirt that seemed much too loose on him, but he didn''t care. Sluggishly, he carried the cleaning supplies under his arms and walked past me.


    Now that I think about it... I''ve never seen any stairs go up to the attic. There was only one staircase in the whole inn and that was the one which we used to get up to the first floor. I watched as Sven shuffled past me and by the help of his height, he pulled at something on the ceiling.


    Suddenly, a set of wooden planks on the ceiling came loose and with another tug, they hung completely down from one side. I stared as Sven pulled out a folded ladder from above and stretched it down to the floor.


    He didn''t even glance back as he started climbing up and once he disappeared through the whole in the ceiling, he pulled up with him the broom and mop and disappeared once again. I could hear his footsteps thudding above me as he walked around the attic.


    Slowly, I grabbed the rag he had left behind on the floor and followed him up, carefully minding my steps.

 Chapter 54 - The Fall From Cloud Nine

    "Woah."


    There was a whole junkyard here.


    "S-Sven?" I called, my voice echoing.


    It was damp up here. There was no light as I stared around, my head the only part of my body inside the attic. Carefully, I climbed in and almost immediately, my foot bumped against something solid.


    "S-Sven!" I called again.


    I got no answer, but all of a sudden, sunlight flooded the attic. I looked around in amazement. There were all sorts of things here. Tables, chairs, broken beds, buckets, hanging lights, glass ornaments, photos, frames- everything.


    As I walked towards the light, I saw Sven''s shadow cast up along the wall to my right. He was sweeping the wooden floor, his back to me. Silently, so as not to disturb him, I turned away and approached the large window which allowed in all the light.


    I felt my mouth gape as my eyes scanned every detail of the large, arch-shaped window with an intricate design. It was most beautiful. The light that entered drew rainbows on the floor. Smiling, I walked over the scattered light and enjoyed the warmth in the little corner by the window. Near the window was a lone ottoman which seemed a little dusty, so I patted it with my hand and sat down.


    I looked around and saw a large bookshelf behind me, filled with books of all colored covers. Novel reading was never my forte, so I cared not about them, but all the same they did give this little corner in the attic a magical feel.


    Sven kept sweeping and didn''t talk to me once as he did so. Silently, I studied him and wondered why he worked so hard. One conclusion I had come to after a whole week of observation, was that Sven and Mama weren''t related. They just never shared that little intimacy.


    Sven barely talked and Mama never prodded at him to do so.


    "Sven." The name escaped my lips before I knew it. Jerkily, he paused and turned to look at me. I gritted my teeth and mentally chastised myself for talking without thinking.


    Well, what''s done is done.


    "What''s your relationship with Mama Ruth?" I asked nonchalantly as I looked around the room.


    He grunted. "Guardian."


    "What?"


    "She''s my guardian."


    I nodded, embarrassed. "Oh, okay. That''s nice."


    With yet another grumble, he went back to work, the rhythmic noise of the broom sweeping against the floor filling the room.


    I sighed as I thought of ways to diffuse the tension. I think it''s been too long that Sven''s been avoiding talk and the monosyllable answers weren''t doing it for me.  I exhaled and started:


    "How old are you, Sven?"


    This time he didn''t stop sweeping.


    "S-"


    "19."


    My shoulders slumped. "Oh, okay. Would you mind if I asked what happened to your real parents?"


    He shrugged, but I saw his mouth twitch. "Dunno. Never met them."


    I wanted to ask more. He was such a mysterious guy, and his expressions gave away nothing. And the more I looked at him, the more he reminded me of someone. But whoˇ­?


    "You remind me of someone," I muttered as I studied him, the same thought going on in my mind.


    He paused and looked at me again, bewilderment written all over his face. "What?"


    I sat back, my eyes wide. Good Godˇ­ had I said that out loud? How reckless of me.


    "What?" he asked again. "Who do I remind you of?"


    I was shocked that he had taken the initiative to say such a long, stringed sentence that it took me a minute or two to recover.


    "Who do you remind me of?" I whispered. "Huhˇ­."


    He was looking at me with wide eyes, his mouth slightly open. As the sun''s angle shifted, the rainbow light casted on him and drowsed his face in colors. At that moment, he looked beautiful.


    He looked like an angel and I was completely in awe.


    And then I saw a flicker of worry on his face, an all too familiar expression. The way his eyebrows furrowed and the way his mouth opened was very, very familiar.


    Just whoˇ­?


    "Emery," I whispered as I finally got it.


    "What?"


    "You look like Emery, a friend I once knew," I said sadly, and the closer I looked at Sven, the more he looked like her. How could I not have seen it sooner?


    Sven leaned closer and let the broom flop to the floor.  "Describe her." His voice was low and husky as he stared into my emerald eyes.


    I was surprised at Sven''s change in demeanor. It was the first time he was willing to talk to me so much and the way he was inching forward...there was certainly something here that I wasn''t understanding.


    "Erm..." I tried to picture Emery''s face. "S-She had beautiful brown eyes... and she was usually in a maids'' uniform. Her hair... it was the most unusual. It was exactly like yours, silvery with wisps of white. She was beautiful in a way of its own."


    Sven interrupted me. "That sounds exactly like her. Can it be her...?" he muttered.


    "What?" I asked uncertainly.


    "I think that''s her," he repeated, his voice getting louder. "That''s sounds like my sister!"


    My mouth went dry. "She isˇ­?" I croaked.


    His eyes were the happiest I had ever seen. He was pacing the floor and his eyes were darting from object to object, and then they finally landed on my face.


    "What was her name again?"


    I felt like I was going to hurl. I felt queasy as I sat there and looked upon the happy man that may have just found his long lost sister. "Emery. Emery Tudnor."


    He raked a hand through his shaggy mane. "And you say she works at the palace? That''s so great! I can''t believe I finally heard of her. You have no idea how long I''ve been anticipating this moment!"


    Should I tell him? I thought. Should I break his heart by the awful news?


    "How did you get separated from her in the first place?" I asked. I was just looking for ways to delay the news. I didn''t know how to convey it to him.


    Sven stopped pacing as he thought. "Our parents gave both of us up the moment we were born. We are twins, you see, and our parents didn''t want to do anything with a pair of silver-haired kids, apparently. They found us... bizarre, for we neither looked like either of our parents. They gave us up to this man called West Hughes."


    "They did?" I asked as I patted my stomach to ease the void. I was sweating uneasily.


    He nodded. "I got bought by this freaky man who wanted to work me to death. He enjoyed beating children when he was enraged and I got hit a lot. My sister was left behind with West and I never heard anything more from her. I still had no idea what had become of her, but now I do. She''s a maid at the palace, right?"


    I nodded and he smiled.


    "That''s good for her. At least she didn''t need to bear all the pain I had to, all my life."


    I nodded again and averted my gaze. How would Sven react when I finally tell him what happened to his sister?


    "I can''t wait to meet her," Sven muttered happily as he picked his broom up again. "Em...Er..Emery. Emery, yeah, that''s right!"


    I gulped. "I''m sorry, Sven," I cried as I swallowed the lump in my throat. "But I don''t think you can meet your sister."


    He had resumed sweeping once again. But the noise stopped all of a sudden.


    "What?" I heard him ask. "Why not?"


    I didn''t want to see his face and that was the exact reason I was staring at the floor. Slowly, I looked up at him and I saw his expression change as he noticed the tears flowing down my face and onto my black dress which had become slightly grey by now.


    I took a huge, unstable breath. Here it goesˇ­


    "S-She died."


    For a while, there was absolutely no movement in the room. Then I heard the broom fall against the floor, the thud following it echoed loudly inside the attic.


    I sniffed. He didn''t say anything.


    With that, I heard his footsteps fade away as he walked away from the light, away from me. The windows that led down the attic creaked as Sven stepped down. He must''ve missed a step because I heard a ''thud'' and a distant curse word that followed.


    He went and shut the door to his room, locking himself in.


    I held my head as I sighed, suppressing my tears. I noticed that the light had faded away. It was dusk now, and instead, it had been replaced by a soft, purple glow.


    It had to be said. Sooner or later, Sven would''ve found out that his sister that he so longed to meet, was dead. Had it been wrong of me to ruin his happiness so soon?


    "Argh..." I grumbled as I rubbed my eyes. I felt so bad.


    I felt so, so, so, so, so, so bad.


    As I stood up and dusted my behind, I wondered if Sven was crying in his room.


    Sadly, I picked up the broom off the floor along with all the other cleaning supplies and trotted downstairs after I had thrown the things by the banister.


    I was too short to reach the ceiling so I let the ladder hang out and I went and shut myself in my room as well.


    Cleaning the attic could wait for another day, I suppose.

 Chapter 55 - Break Down

    Sven didn''t join us for dinner that night. Nor did he join us for breakfast the next day.


    When I came down to the landing, I had expected to see him already up and cleaning like he usually did. But no, he was nowhere in sight.


    "What''s wrong with the boy?" Mama asked as she grinded sugar with two stones. "Is it puberty?"


    I choked. "I don''t think so, Mama. Let''s leave him be."


    Mama shrugged and went back to crushing sugar, but I noticed that she was putting a bit too much force into it now.


    "Go put the pot on," Mama grunted.


    I nodded and hurried to put the pot on and poured in some milk. Today, we were making custard.


    "Sven likes custard," Mama explained earlier.


    I had just nodded and gone along with itˇ­ even though I had never had custard before. Mama called out instructions to me while she finally crushed the very last chunks of sugar and then slid them all into the milk pot.


    After a while of mixing and more mixing, the custard started to curdle up and soon, it was ready. The kitchen was filled with a lovely vanilla essence that I inhaled gratefully.


    Mama Ruth carefully poured a bowl of smooth, creamy yellow custard and gave it to me.


    "Go give this to Sven," she said, her specs fogging up because of the hot custard. "I doubt he''ll come down. Just this once, I''ll let him eat in his room."


    I wiped my hands on my dress and carefully held the bowl. With my legs, I opened the kitchen door and silently walked upstairs, making sure nothing dripped over the bowl''s edges.


    "Sven? Hey, Sven," I knocked quietly as I knocked on his door. "Sven, will you please open the door?"


    I didn''t hear a response, but I did hear rustling of sheets.


    I took a deep breath. "Sven, Mama made you some custard. Look, I even brought it up for you. Are you really not gonna try it?"


    As I awaited an answer, I couldn''t wonder how miserable Sven must be feeling. To think that you found your long lost sibling and lost her on the same dayˇ­ I couldn''t imagine it.


    "Sven, please," I muttered as my hand rested on his knob and turned. It was locked. "Sven..."


    I sighed. "Fine. I''m gonna leave it here. Up to you if you want to miss out on it or not and hey, Mama''s really worried about you."


    With that I put the bowl in front of his door with a deliberate loud ''thud'' and trotted away. He didn''t have any right to be so upset. I mean, he barely even knew her! Hell, it''s better to say he''s never even met her and in comparison, I was so well acquainted with herˇ­ It should be me who''s upset, not him!


    Now very upset as myself, I shut myself in my room and flopped down on my bed. I had gotten very used to the palace beds which bounced right back out if you jumped on them, so on reflex, whenever I threw myself on one of the inn beds, I always managed to hurt my butt. Just like I did now.


    "Ow... GOSH!" I hissed as I furiously rubbed my hips to ease the pain. I picked up the flimsy pillow and screamed into it, letting all my frustration and anger out.


    I threw angry punches at the mattress, letting the pain in my knuckles travel up to my elbows.


    "Whyˇ­ did Iˇ­ haveˇ­ to beˇ­ the oneˇ­ to dealˇ­ WITH ALL THIS CRAP!? Why me, God?" I cried. "It was never my fu*king novel to begin with!"


    This frustration had been building up in me from the very first day. I have no idea how I had kept it suppressed for a whole month or so till the point it had to burst out like this.


    But was I so wrong to complain?


    I had become the main character of a Novel. But why a tragedy Novel of all sorts? This past month, I had tried earnestly to adjust to my new life. I rarely complained and even when I did, it was mostly to myself because there was no one else whom I could share my bizarre story to. And with every day brought with it new twists and turns. In the span of one month, I had become a princess, met a snake, befriended a criminal, attended a ceremony which was never supposed to be mine, jumped from a tower, discovered that I had extraordinary powers, and kept hidden from guards. And I couldn''t even complain?


    My punches slowed down as my adrenaline started to die down. The place where my knuckles had constantly come in contact with the bed was left a depression of my fist.


    I sighed as I brushed it to soften it up and laid down, thinking about my misfortune.


    I was so sick of this. I wanted to go back home.


    I missed Juwon and Jieum. Never thought I''d say this but I did miss my sisters a bit too.


    I turned to my side and stared at the cracked wall.


    As thoughts ran through my mind, I started shaking my leg just as I had seen Sven do. The vibrations brought my body calm, and the faint creaking of the bed provided background music for my thoughts. To and froˇ­ to and froˇ­ I sighed as I focused on my breathing, trying not to cry.


    And just like that, I drifted off to sleep.


    ?


    When I woke up, it was nighttime.


    Blue light flooded my room. In a haze, I wondered why I hadn''t gotten those curtains yet. At the palace, I never needed to worry about all this. Princesses really did have the best life.


    As I lay on my back and stared up at the cobweb covered ceiling, I felt at peace. My stomach grumbled, for I had missed lunch.


    Slowly, I sat up and slipped on my slippers. I quickly hand-combed my black hair which desperately needed some brushing. As I turned the knob and opened the door to my room, I heard something rattle. Stepping in the corridor, I saw that the bowl of custard I had left outside Sven''s room was slightly shaking before it came to a stop, as if someone had put it down just a moment ago. And it was empty.


    Smiling, I picked it up and took it to the kitchen downstairs. I rinsed it and put it on the counter and wiped my hands on my dress.


    So Sven really wasn''t able to resist Mama''s custard, huh?


    In a pot near the wall was the leftover custard. I picked a dry bowl and poured myself some. With the bowl, I headed upstairs to my room but stopped to see if Mama was awake. When I peeked in, she was fast asleep in her armchair.


    Shrugging, I went back up and closed the door shut before sitting comfortably on the bed and digging into the sludge.


    I understood why Sven couldn''t resist; this was delicious.


    As I took another spoonful, I leaned to the side and opened my drawer. I pulled out the key to the 5th room and studied it. It was beautiful, really. Old and orange with rust, but beautiful.


    It had a top that curved down into two spirals and in the middle of it was a crown. I brushed my fingers on the engravement as I took another spoonful of custard.


    "Was there really something in the room that I missed?" I whispered to myself.


    As I scraped off the last sludgy bits , I stood up and decided: Right, I''m gonna try once again. I was gonna find whatever was worth hiding, may it be in plain sight or not.


    I tip-toed outside and listened hard. Amidst the silence, I heard heavy breaths from Sven''s side of the corridor, indicating that he, too, was asleep.


    Thankful for the perfect setup, I slid the key into the door of the room it belonged to and twisted it. A familiar click was heard and this time, with more ease, the door swung open.


    With a deep breath, I stepped in and closed the door behind me.

 Chapter 56 - Reynard?

    [What''s been going on with Reynard?]


    A week had gone by since Reynard had dropped the Crown Princess off at his close acquaintance''s residence, otherwise what used to be Ogden Cove.


    Reynard was worried that the Princess won''t be able to fare well with the difficult personality of Mama Ruth, or than in another case scenario, Mama would think better of it and give the Princess up to the guards.


    But since he had some problems of his own going on at home, he wasn''t able to pay Her Highness another visit to make sure she was okay, for he knew that the Princess trusted him.


    "Mother," Reynard spoke softly as he opened the door to his mother''s room. "How are you doing?"


    There, on a lone bed against the far wall, lay a woman. Weaker and frailer than he remembered her to be, Reynard''s mother, Amice had her head flat against a pillow which needed washing, and her lovely black hair which looked quite brown due to prolonged uncare, was spread around her like a wreath. Even though she looked very near death, when she opened her eyelids to display a lovely pair of blue eyes, she looked like the most beautiful woman Reynard had ever seen.


    As she smiled for her son and weakly nodded at him to come over, Reynard realized how much of a grave danger she was in.


    "Feeling any better?" Reynard whispered as he came over to his mother''s bed and sat on the floor beside her face. He folded his arms and leaned against the bed, staring in awe and worry at his mother.


    His mother raked a gentle hand through her son''s hair and sighed. "You needn''t fret about me. I hope you''re helping your sister around the house well," she croaked.


    Reynard nodded as he took a hold of his mother''s hand and massaged it, so full of love and care. "Although Rosa''s a machine on her own, I do pay good mind to help sweep up or help when she''s cooking. Especially after father''s left for the knights, we don''t need to cook much anyways."


    Amice nodded, looking at her son. "Have you received any letters from your father?"


    "Yes," Reynard said as he let one hand go of his mother''s and pulled out a piece of parchment from his pocket. "Though it doesn''t say much. Just the usual: ''Love you, take care, hope you''re doing wellˇ­'' Do you want me to read it to you?"


    Amice shook her head. "Not yet. I heard that the Crown Princess has been... is it true?"


    Though, somewhere in his consciousness, it did hurt him to lie to his mother like that, he knew how essential it was to leave no grain spilled.


    "Yes, I''m afraid it seems so," Reynard sighed, making himself look sad and grieved. "I''m hearing that they found her blood and a letter from her killer saying all sorts of insolent things which I''m sure you wouldn''t want to hear. It''s the most awful scene, indeed."


    Amice sighed. "Whether it be true or not, I do feel sorry for the poor soul."


    Reynard cocked an eyebrow. "How so?" he asked, eager to know why his mother thought so.


    Amice played with a strand of her hair as she stared into space. "It''s just..." She sighed. "It''s just that it was never her fault that she was born that way. I''ve heard rumors about how kind and lovely she is, so it just seems so..so vile, to just sacrifice her after exploiting her divine nature. If her mother, the Empress, was still alive, I''m sure she would''ve had second thoughts about this wretched prophecy."


    Reynard nodded solemnly and pressed his mother''s hand. "I understand."


    Amice nodded. "Now stop wasting your precious time and help your sister. Come on, now. She told me she needs to go to her stall today so she won''t be around for a while. Go check with her if there''s something you must do before she leaves."


    Reynard rolled his eyes and kissed his mother''s hand before standing up. He pecked her n the forehead. "Alright, then. If you need anything, just call, alright? And Aunty was saying that she''s always available if we can''t handle the workload."


    Amice frowned at her son as he walked away, whistling. "Don''t you dare agree to her offer, you hear me? How shameful would that be?" she called after her son as he shut the door.


    After Reynard had made sure that he was well away from his mother''s room, his legs gave way and he crouched down, shaken. "Oh God..." he muttered to himself.


    He heard footsteps. Reynard lifted his head and saw a pair of brown walking boots. As his eyes trailed up to the face of the person that was looking down at him in puzzlement, he sighed.


    It was his sister, Rosa.


    Reynard stood up, grunting. Rosa decided not to ask him why he was on the floor.


    "Mother isn''t doing well, is she?" she whispered sadly as she glanced at the shut door of her mother''s room. "I''ve been mixing all the bitter medicines that she refuses to take into her porridges every morning but she just doesn''t seem to get better."


    Reynard pursed his lips as he stared at the floor. In front of his elder sister, his thoughts almost always went blank.


    "I''m going out to the stall," Rosa said as she stood straighter and fixed her day hat in a mirror on the wall. She stared at her fair skin, rosy cheeks, lovely red lip and long, silky black hair that was tied in a bun at the back of her head. Two little strands at her temples had escaped from the clips and framed her lovely face and equally lovely blue eyes. She fixed her blue day dress around the waist and checked her shoes once.


    "Sephni must be burned out as she''s been running our pottery stall the whole morning. It''s my turn to go and ease the pain off her shoulders. God bless her for being such a hard worker," Rosa uttered as she grabbed her things. "There''s not much you need to do in the house. I''ve already washed the dishes and cleaned the kitchenette. You just need to go and get the medicine bottles refilled and dust the shelves. Some guests might come over today, so we need the house spick and span, got it?. I won''t be long!"


    With that Rosa Isabeau Gradral took off with her supplies, for she was a working woman. Reynard and his mother remained in the house.


    Sighing, Reynard put his hands on his hips and looked around his small, cozy house. It was already quite clean but still, Reynard picked the dusting cloth up and started smacking it at the shelves. Soon, he heard his mother cough from her room and he ran to check up on her.


    "Mother, is everything alright?" he asked worriedly before he had even opened the door.


    His mother was sitting up with a glass of water in her hands. She was holding her throat as she coughed, her face looking very red. Reynard ran to help her and he quickly pulled her drawer open to take the medicine from it. Unfortunately, it was finished and like Rosa had instructed earlier, he needed to get it refilled.


    "Drink some water, Mother," Reynard said gently as he eased the content of the glass down his mother''s throat and patted her on the back. "I''ll quickly go and get these refilled. Please wait till then!"


    As fast as he could, Reynard rushed out of his house and ran to the apothecary, bottles clenched in hand. As he approached the stall of the apothecary, he slowed down and breathed. Fortunately, there wasn''t a long line at the moment so he stood in wait and beamed when his turn came.


    The apothecary, Stace Radomir smiled at his regular customer.


    "Ah, how''s your mother, Reynard, my boy?" the middle-aged man asked as he took the bottles from his hands. "Has my new prescription had any effect? I had expected her to get better, truth be told."


    Reynard pursed his lips and shook his head. "Just momentary relief, these medicines bring, Mister Radomir. I''m afraid my mother won''t be able to last much longer if things keep going like this."


    Apothecary Radomir sighed. "Well, let us all hope to the Gods. Here you go, my boy. That''ll be 10 silvers."


    Reynard fished out the coins from his pocket, handed them to the apothecary and went off back where he had come from.


    As he got nearer to the front door of his house, he heard unfamiliar voices from inside. Silently, Reynard pushed back the door in an alarmed stance and was appalled when he saw three strange men standing near the doorway.


    "Who''re you and what business do you have here?" Reynard asked loudly and firmly, giving off the impression that he was the bigger man in the room, when clearly, he was no match for the men in armor. He was the tallest man here but these men were bulkier. Upon closer inspection, Reynard recognized these people as one of the palace guards.


    ''Crap,'' Reynard thought.


    "Ah, yes," The man closest to him outstretched an arm and Reynard shook his hand. "We''ve come to inspect the house. You can address me as Sir Alan and these two here are Sir Baldric and Sir Carsen." The two accompanying guards nodded in unison, their swords clinking to their armored thighs.


    Reynard nodded slowly, studying the three men. "Sires, if you could just wait a moment. Let me go give this medicine to my sick mother and then I''ll attend to you, if that''s alright?"


    Sir Alan nodded, his bushy mustache twitching. "Sure, that''d be fine. Carsen will accompany you while you do so."


    Reynard wasn''t going to ask for some privacy, because if he did, he knew that the guards would grow suspicious of him. Instead, he let Sir Carsen follow him into his mother''s room and watch as Reynard made his mother gulp the medicine down.


    Amice really was shocked at the appearance of the strange man but she recognized him and nodded in acknowledgement.


    "Alright lad, out you come," said Sir Carsen gruffly as Reynard exited the room. "No fishy business here, Sir." He nodded to Sir Alan.


    Sir Alan nodded back. "Right. Search this place down, gentlemen."

 Chapter 57 - Strange Discovery

    [Continuing from Chapter 55]


    "There really isn''t anything here, huh..." I muttered, looking around the room.


    It was exactly the same as it had looked the last time I had stepped in here. I saw dust, I saw cobwebs, I saw fleas, but I didn''t see anything suspicious at all.


    I did a 360 degree take, my eyes setting on each and every thing before it came back to rest on the door.


    "Awˇ­ how boring!" I said as I paced the floor. "Why was the door deliberately locked for no obvious reason?"


    I paused. For no obvious reason, huh? Then what about all the obscure reasons?


    That must be it!


    Carefully, slowly, I walked up to the wall that was between the 5th room and the 6th and I felt it up. Nothing seemed out of place and the wall continued in a single, smooth flow.


    "Right," I muttered and turned to the wall opposite and felt that up too, but the result was the same as before and my hands were left grey with matted dust.


    I clapped my hands together to dust them clean and I turned next to the floor. Like the rest of the inn, the floor was made of wooden planks.


    Lightly, I tapped my feet on each plank, starting first from the foot of the door. I wanted to hear a hollow sound, a sound indicating a hidden cavity below the shelter of the planks. A hidden cavity that hides what has to be hidden so inconspicuously.


    It was like I was playing hopscotch.


    Tip-toe...Tip-toeˇ­ I moved from plank to plank though none of them made any suspicious sounds. I was about to give up when the plank that went all the way under the dusty bed made a ''PLOCK'' sound. Like every one of them, it should have made a ''DHOK'' sound, but it didn''t.


    "Huh?" I tilted my head, my hair falling over my face. Hurriedly, I pulled my hair back behind my ears and leaned down to take a closer look at the hollow sounding plank.


    I had no torch and it was nighttime so the room was quite dark. Quickly, I opened the door, skipped downstairs, and grabbed the candle and candle holder from Mama''s room.


    I went back upstairs with a lit candle in my hand and entered the room which glowed orange because of the tiny flame.


    "That''s better," I mumbled as I shut the door behind me with a soft ''thud'' and leaned down under the bed. Of course, my clothes were getting very dirty and little dust balls were probably sticking in my hair, but I didn''t care much. I was already a walking ball of filth.


    I blinked twice, trying to look through the flying white particles around me. I pulled in the candle near my face (making sure I don''t accidentally burn the whole inn down) and tried to focus on the joints of the planks.


    "It''s so hot. Why the heck is it so hot?" I was muttering as I looked around in the little light there was. My hair was getting matted to my forehead and neck, and my vision was getting blurred.


    I pulled out from under the bed and fanned myself before diving back down.


    "Let''s see..." I muttered as I looked at the edges of the hollow plank. I noticed that the screws that were supposed to keep the wood in place were out loose.


    I knew it! There was definitely something under here.


    Knock, knock. I knocked on the wood once again to recheck and sure enough, my knocks were followed by two ''Plock, Plock''s''. Hollow sounds.


    I smiled and pulled at the edges where the screws were undone and like a piece of puzzle coming undone, it moved out of place. Slowly, I heaved it towards myself in an attempt to remove it completely and it came off with gruff ease.


    I was right. There was a hollow cavity under the plank.


    It was much too dark for me to see inside. I put the removed piece of wood beside my waist and pulled the candle closer to the rectangular hole I had just uncovered. What did I expect to see inside? Moneyˇ­?Treasure? Some valuable piece of information, maybe?


    Instead, I noticed the candle light reflecting off of a piece of white metal.


    It was a brooch.


    As I delicately picked it up and inspected it closer, I couldn''t shake off the feeling that this was a familiar design. It was most definitely a brooch I had seen once before. I twisted it around in my hand and peered at the back where a thick, blunt needle was welded.


    "I''ve seen this before..." I mumbled as I squinted under the orange glow. "Wait! This is the white flower that I wore at the Ceremony!"


    And it was!


    It was exactly like the white lily brooch Yvonne had pinned my locks with as a final touch when we were getting ready for the Ceremony. Quickly, I put a hand behind my head and patted at it to make sure I was still wearing the brooch. There was a slight possibility I could''ve lost it by now, but no it was still there, firm and intact.


    Slowly, I unclipped it out of my hair and compared the two brooches.


    And what do you know, they were exactly the same.


    "Huh..." I tilted my head in puzzlement as I studied the exact same brooch, but doubled.


    The one I had worn looked more brand new and well-protected. It was pristine and the white gloss was perfect, meanwhile the brooch I had just pulled out of the hidden cavity in Room#5 was cracked and the white didn''t look so...white. It looked slightly grey with grime and old age.


    Who had Marilynne said my brooch had belonged to...? To the late Empress, was it? How could that be? How did Mama have the exact same copy of the brooch the Empress had?


    It was all so confusing.


    I felt inside the hole to pull out something else if I hadn''t already, but there was nothing. Slowly, I put the wooden plank back on top of the hole and crawled out from under the bed, carefully pulling the candle along as well.


    I was a walking drop of sweat. I fanned my face and flapped the hems of my dress up and down to let some air in there, but what fresh air could there be in a room this damp and musty.


    I blew the candle, instantly drowning myself in darkness and quietly opened the door. I carried the two brooches and the candle holder all in one palm and with the other hand, I locked the door back with the key.


    Click.


    It was locked.


    There was darkness all around me, though the little window in the corridor supplied me with just enough moonlight to walk back to my room and shut myself in.


    My Godˇ­


    I had just uncovered something so absolutely strange!


    Giddily, I put the secret key back into the drawer of my little nightstand and lay on my bed, the two brooches raised up in my hands. The moonlight that flooded my room caught the glint of the white lilies and it shone into my eyes. I didn''t make any attempt to close my eyesˇ­ I just kept staring.


    I needed to ask someone about the white lily brooch. But could I risk asking Mama? Would she grow suspicious of me?


    Of course she would.


    I sighed and turned to my side, instantly falling into a deep, deep slumber.

 Chapter 58 - Mamas Diary

    I woke up to Mama screeching at me from downstairs.


    "Ay! Lassie, c''mon down already!" she yelled irritably. "God, if my legs could take me, I''d be up there in an instant..."


    Hurriedly, I sat up and slipped on my shoes. As I pulled open the door, I glanced outside the window to get an estimate of the time and my conclusion was that it was too late past breakfast time.


    "Gosh, how did I sleep in today?" I muttered as I hid the two brooches under my pillow and ran out. "Coming, Mama!" I called out as I reached the banister.


    "I''ve been calling you for ages!" Mama said as she squinted up at me. "You usually wake up earlier than the rest of us. Why, were you up all night?"


    I vigorously shook my head and trotted downstairs. "Have you already had breakfast?"


    Mama nodded. "I made rye bread. Eat up yourself and do spare some slices for Sven when he wants to eat. I''m sure the kid won''t be able to forgo the most important meal of the day." As she said that, she walked back to her own room. "Oh, and give me your clothes to wash today. Look at all that filth!"


    I glanced down at my black dress and was instantly taken aback by the amount of dust and filth balls stuck to it. Crapˇ­ Had I forgotten to dust my dress after I got out from under the bed?


    "Yes, Mama..." I muttered, ashamed.


    Mama went back to her room and I proceeded towards the kitchen which smelled like freshly baked goods. I caught sight of the half loaf of crumbly bread on the counter and I cut myself some slices It was warm and it smelled good. Browsing in the cupboards overhead, I thankfully found a jar of something red that could or could not have been jam.


    The whole while, the thought of asking Mama Ruth about the white lily never left my mind. I slathered a red, chunky dollop of what was hopefully jam onto my bread and leaned against the counter as I chewed on it. It was kind of salty, not jam at all. But it wasn''t bad so I kept chewing.


    Lazily- and fully in thought- I glanced out of the window at the empty street and the tall row of houses attached to it. There was nothing to look at, really. Everything was so quiet and lonely and barren.


    I finished my share of bread and took the rest of the slices up to Sven''s room.


    "Hey, Sven," I said monotonously. "I''m leaving you some breakfast." I''m sure he was awake. I heard rustling from inside as I spoke but I didn''t comment about it. As I walked to my own room, I caught sight of the ladder that led up to the attic.


    Yep, it was still hanging.


    Every time I had to walk past it, I''d get this sudden urge to climb up and go into the attic again. But because of some reason or the other, I''d always dismiss the thought. Now that I was alone and bored...could Iˇ­.?


    Carefully, I looked both ways before I grabbed onto a rail of the ladder and started climbing. Slowly and steadily, I placed every foot till my head popped up into the attic. I looked around and it still looked exactly the same as before. I climbed all in and stood up.


    Now that I was alone, I could get a good look at things.


    My walk was soft so that nobody heard my footsteps from below. I walked around, poking and prodding at anything that I found interesting. Soon, I found myself near the large, arch window again.


    All around me was warmth and dispersed light. I sat down on the familiar ottoman and all of a sudden, a rush of feelings came back. Thoughts of Emery, her death, and how Sven''s face had crumbled when he heard me say the dreaded words... All of it came back.


    I curled into myself miserably and winced.


    The heavy gut feeling returned and I patted my stomach to help it. I tried to control my breathing and decided to focus on something else. Turning around to take a better look, I noticed the large bookshelf behind me.


    I don''t think I had looked at it carefully before, but now I did. There was an array of messily stacked books, one shelf over the other. I stood up and walked to it so I could read the titles. I bent down as I studied book covers. A particular brown leather back attracted me a lot so I pulled it out. As expected, it was completely covered in dust so I blew over it and coughed when the dust flew around my face.


    "Good God, it looks like it has been sitting here since forever!" I mumbled, appalled.


    With another cough, I flipped open the tattered cover. It was some sort of science book, I could tell. There were all sorts of anatomy diagrams and sketches, and some even made me blush and put the book back. How embarrassingˇ­


    I noticed a bright red cover sticking out from the very top of the bookshelf. Carefully, I pulled the ottoman towards me with a subtle scrape and balanced myself while I picked out the red book. It was so matted with dust to the point the red looked like a very dirty grey. I dusted it off and glanced at the golden inscripted title which read ''ACCOUNTS'' in the official language of Wisteria, all curly and enchanting. It was weird that I could read it, but then again, everything was weird.


    I flopped down on the ottoman and with a clearing of my throat, I started to readˇ­


    ????????


    The 13th of Isorele,


    I feel like I''m at a crossroads.


    Elric just proposed to me at the Pond today. I couldn''t have been more embarrassed! Though he kept telling me that it would be fine if he kissed me then and there, I knew that people would talk.


    Unfortunately, the aloof man has yet no idea that he has a rival to reckon with. Lucan, the foreign merchant from the Lands of Sovia, has been purposefully courting me since day one of me opening the inn at Olsen road. He was ready to take me and Lissy in at any cost, ''As long as it meant he could be together with me,'' he said. Quite foolish of him, if I do say so myself.


    Anyways, I can''t help feeling that I''ll make an impulsive decision with either of them. Lissy is still too small to give me her opinion, but at times like these, I wished she was old enough to discuss such matters with me. But the Lord works at a pace of his own liking.


    Elric and Lucan are both exceptional men. (Though I do find Lucan''s habit of chewing loudly quite unpleasant.) I must make haste to give an answer to both of them or I''m afraid my time would run out. Beauty doesn''t last forever, it appears so.


    The marks on my abdomen and legs are becoming more prominent now, and my hair has started dropping out whenever I brush it. It''s a most fretful situation.


    I need to go over to Johanne''s tomorrow. She''s invited close friends for tea because of the birth of her little lassie, Amice. People say she''s a proper beauty. Well, that wouldn''t be surprising since the mother''s a fancy herself.


    It''s nighttime and I''m writing under candlelight. The wick''s just about drowned in a puddle of wax so I shan''t write more. I''ll see to my matters tomorrow, I swear upon it!


    ????????


    I held the book in my hand and wondered about what I had just read. From the looks of it, this was probably Mama Ruth''s diary. I don''t know if I should be reading it as it may very well be private...but since it was rotting up here anyways and nobody would know, I''m sure it wouldn''t hurt anyone if I peeked in.


    Anyways, I turned the page and started reading againˇ­


    ????????


    The 15th of Isorele,


    Disaster struck!


    Lucan crashed Johanne''s tea party, effing and spitting about this other lover I may have. I couldn''t believe the audacity of the fool, I really couldn''t.


    He ruined any reputation I may have built up in the society of talkative females these last two months and I''m very well done with him. I shan''t be contacting him anymore!


    Elric, on the other hand, has been nothing less than an angel. He offered to help with Johanne''s tea party and got all the decorative curtains up and even fixed the creaking table so that the tea wouldn''t accidentally spill. I couldn''t have been more proud about him when all the women asked about this handsome hunk of a man accompanying me.


    Johanne had just about settled everybody down when Lucan barged in with his curses and dared raise a hand on poor Elric. Elric was never the warmonger and tried to talk it out with a belligerent Lucan who would do everything but listen.


    It was a horrific scene for myself and all the others. Johanne''s daughter started bawling her eyes out at all the shouts and whatnot. I couldn''t hold my anger in so I lashed out myself, and might I add it was the first time I did so in public. I slapped Lucan straight on the cheek and how he had staggered back, appalled. Elric had retreated out of his grasp and had made himself scarce in a moment. I chastised Lucian for acting so thoughtlessly and he left, well, not before he had sworn vengeance against the foul act I may have committed. A fool, I say again.


    Johanne and the other women tried to comfort me, though I knew most of them just wanted all the tea. Some of them tried to weed out all the details about the other handsome hunk of a man I had by my side and I was ever so frustrated, I left promptly.


    I''ve been reflecting on my actions all day after that and that is precisely the reason my entries are missing a date.


    Well, if all goes well, I''ll be married to Elric till the end of the month Isorele. Maybe then I''ll finally be able to slacken down on everythingˇ­


    ????????


    I sat back in amazement. Mama had been a player and I hadn''t known. I wonder what this Elric guy really looked like. There were no photos of him at the inn...now that I think about it, there were no photo''s of Mama''s past here at all. How strangeˇ­


    I tucked the diary under my arm and decided to take it to my room.

 Chapter 59 - Behind The Bush

    In the next few days, I uncovered some strange facts about Mama Ruth''s past.


    Number one, Mama Ruth found Sven fighting a cat behind a bush.


    Don''t believe me? Read thisˇ­


    ????????


    The 5th of Adared,


    Elric and I got married a couple days ago with the blessings of a local priest. It wasn''t the most grand occasion, but Lissy was there and so were Johanne, her daughter, Elric''s parents and my friends...and that''s all that matters.


    Elric thought that it''d be better if we moved in with him so he could take care of us but I refused, for that meant I wouldn''t be able to take care of the inn.


    He''s currently moved in with me and is helping me run the business, all the while taking care of little Lissy like his own daughter.


    But apart from all of this, something strange happened today that I have yet to relay to Elric. It was Market Day so I thought getting some foodstuffs for the daily dinner would be a grand idea when I heard faint cries behind a bush. Human cries.


    I quickly ran to check and lo and behold, I found a silver haired boy, probably around the young age of 12, trying to snatch meat from an alley cat. I was rendered speechless for a while or so.


    And what nerve did the boy have to have said, "Mind your business, old hag!" The absolute bloody nerve! I haven''t even hit my middle 30s yet!


    So I told him what an insolent boy he was and that I hoped the cat better get the meat instead of him. That shut him up quickly. But I hadn''t yet taken a couple steps when the boy reached out and tugged my sleeve with his puny fingers. Now that he stood up in the light, I saw how absolutely gorgeous he really was. Like clear quartz, his hair shown under the sunlight and his large hazel eyes looked up at me with a subtle mix of eagerness and hurt.


    I remember how he muttered something and I didn''t quite catch it so I told him to speak up. The next time he spoke, his voice was afraid and mouse-like:


    "C-Can you spare me a few coins for bread?"


    Even though the lad had called me an old hag, I dropped a few coppers in his curious, callused palm and he ran away without another glance. I had just sighed and completed my shopping, the thought of the boy dismissed from my mind.


    But then again, when I was heading back to the inn after getting the shopping done, I saw him sitting by the side of the road. By the looks of how he beamed when he looked at me, he was most probably waiting for me to pass by.


    I avoided his gaze and walked as fast as I could but he still snuck up on me.


    "Hey lady, thanks for the money!" he mumbled as he tugged on my sleeve again. "It''s the first thing I ate after a couple days."


    I frowned, pausing in the street. "Why, where are your parents?"


    His face had drooped and he shook his head. I nodded solemnly. Maybe that''s when I got the idea to bring him to the inn with me.


    And here he is, sitting on the counter beside me in the kitchen, attacking a bowl of custard.


    ????????


    That''s it. The entry just stops abruptly.


    So Sven has been under Mama''s care ever since that very day? I hadn''t known at all. To be honest, I had expected him to be Mama''s orphan nephew or something, but this is a bit... strange.


    Anyways, during the span of the few next days, I kept reading Mama''s diary with great interest as if it was a novel. And the weird thing was, novel reading was never my forte and I was still strangely enjoying this.


    Though I didn''t know what all these Isorele, Adared words meant. Could they be... months? Huh. I have no idea what date it is.


    I was about to open the ACCOUNTS book to another page when a knock came on my door. Quickly, I hid the diary under my sheets and turned my face lazily to the side as if I had been sleeping.


    I heard the door creak open. Whoever it was wasn''t saying anything or coming in, making me curious as to who it could be. My neck ached to turn to the side and see who it was, but I kept on the fa?ade that I was fast asleep. In the middle of the day.


    "Oh, she''s not awake..." someone muttered from the door, voice gruff and low. It was Sven.


    My eyelids twitched and I clenched and unclenched my hands under the sheet. So he had finally decided to make an appearance out of his little hole, huh? I longed to dead-stare at him, scrutinize and raise my eyebrow as if to say, ''Back already?''


    But I kept my face towards the wall.


    Soon, Sven shut the door and I straightened my back as I sighed a sigh of relief.  As I stretched my arms, the door opened abruptly and Sven stared at me from the doorway, a slight smirk on his face.


    "I knew you were kidding," he muttered so low that I barely caught his words.


    I frowned and leaned back against the headboard, my arms folded at my chest. Nonchalantly, Sven walked in and sat at the foot of my bed. Thankfully, he had left the door open, probably in case I started getting any wrong ideas about his intentions. (Which I totally didn''t!)


    "So," I started, looking cautiously into his face, "done crying?"


    He clenched his jaw, and looked at me defensively. "I wasn''t crying."


    "Well, of course," I scoffed. Then I looked at him somberly. "I''m sorry for your loss."


    He shook his head and sighed. As he looked at the wooden floor, his eyes searched for ways to say what he wanted to relay.


    "I-It''s fine." I raised my eyebrows and he caught the look, getting flustered as he said with a voice crack, "I-I really am! It''s justˇ­ I had waited all my life, you know..."


    I nodded, waiting for him to continue.


    "It''s so, so strange, knowing and not knowing someone at the same time. The way you described her, I felt like she was already in front of meˇ­ But at the same time, it felt like you were describing a total stranger. How strange is it that you know somewhere in the world, your sibling is probably alive and living a life totally different to yours? And somehow, you can''t get in their world. You feel... alone. I''m sure you don''t get what I mean, after all, I understand that you''re an only child.``


    I pinched the folds of the white bed sheet into small mountain peaks. "I do, actually. Understand, I mean."


    I heard him sigh. Even though I wasn''t looking directly at his face, I knew he was staring at me. It seemed like he wanted to say something, and that he did.


    "Who are you?" he asked curiously, his eyes wide.


    I looked up, a little shaken. What did he mean, ''Who are you?''...? Did- Did he not know? How could he not know? Should I tell him..?


    The big question was, what if he betrays my trust after finding out and leads the guards straight to me?

 Chapter 60 - He Knew?

    What''s the best route to follow?


    It''s like I was in a ''Choose Your Story'' game where we have to pick between options A and B for the game to continue. It felt exactly like that.


    One route leads to the desired procession, the right path, the happy ending. And the other optionˇ­ It could ruin everything.


    Carefully, I contemplated my choices, Sven''s eager eyes distracting me every moment or so. Finally, I decided to tell him the truth, well... the half truth.


    "You were right about me being an only child," I nodded. "I''m also Reynard''s good accompli- I mean, friend! And well...I guess calling me a person who''s got nowhere to stay is right."


    He nodded, the eager shine disappearing from his eyes. Just when I thought I had played it safe, he said:


    "It''s alright if you don''t want to tell me now," he muttered, looking straight into my emerald eyes. "After all, I''ve lived here most of my life. I''m bound to be curious."


    I don''t know what made me act on impulse, but I knew I was going to regret what I was just about to say.


    "You''ve been here since you were 12, right?" I said. Just as I finished the last word, I knew I had messed up.


    As expected, Sven gave me a sharp look, shocked and confused. "How did you know?" he asked roughly.


    I pursed my lips and grabbed the diary under my covers. Somewhere between our conversation, Sven had moved very close to me, close enough that his hands could have been touching the hard bound diary underneath the sheets.


    "It was just a guess," I said quickly. I knew my voice sounded much too unbelievable. Even I''d scoff at myself. "Why, was I correct? Haha, what a coincidence-"


    Sven gave me the death-stare. "No way are you telling the truth. Tell me how you know," he said, leaning forward. Instantly, I flattened myself against the headboard. "Surely, she didn''t say anything, did she?"


    I know, I know. I should''ve said yes. But did I? No.


    I shook my head vigorously. "Mama didn''t spill a bean."


    He leaned in even further, so close that I could clearly see his irises. "Then what?"


    The room had suddenly gone so quiet, that my gulp felt like a dong of a grandfather clock. Sven raised his eyebrows, the curious glint back into his eyes. I sucked in my cheeks, trying to keep myself from spilling anything unnecessary. I literally thought I was gonna burst!


    All of a sudden, Sven brushed a hand on my cheek, causing me to flinch. His hand trailed up to my forehead where black tresses had fallen and he gently brushed them aside. I hadn''t been in any situation similar to this, so I was very confused. What should I do? Should I slap his hand away? But that would be too rude.


    I wish my tongue hadn''t failed me at that moment because all of a sudden, he leaned in so close, I almost thought he was gonna kiss me. His hand slid to the right from my forehead and rested on the side of my temple. I could feel his breath on my cheeks. I felt like I had just turned to stone, mind-wise and body-wise.


    The ACCOUNTS book in my hand loosened up and I just sat there, hoping whatever was to happen would happen quickly.


    His cheeks brushed mine... and then I felt an electric pain.


    The pain started from the top of my temple and charged straight down to my face. Sven retreated his advances and sat back with a satisfied smile on his face. I rubbed my temple while a puzzled look crossed my face. What had he just doneˇ­?


    From his face, my eyes trailed down to his hands. Right there, between his index finger and his thumb clenched tightly together, was a black hair. My hair.


    "D-Did you justˇ­ Did you just break a strand of my hair??" I asked in a mixture of anger and confusion.


    Sven smiled, taking careful note of my expressions. "This''ll prove my theory," he said.


    My eyes widened, and the hand that had been rubbing my head fell to my lap. "What theory? Hey, where are you going?"


    He was standing up. "My theory that you are the missing Crown Princess."


    Right then, my heart just dropped into my gut. So he had known all along. It''s not a big deal, it''s not a big deal, it''s not a big dealˇ­ I kept telling myself. But how had he known I had divine powers concerning my hair?


    I pushed the diary out of my way and started to get up too, for I was eager for answers.


    "H-How did you know?" I asked, my mouth suddenly crisp and dry. "And how do you know about the hair?"


    Sven was already in the doorway. He paused at my question and gave me a sidelong glance.


    "When you''re used to being in the background, you notice many things."


    With that, he pulled the door shut after me and left me alone in my room to die of curiosity.


    ?


    [The Emperor''s Conservatory]


    "Your Majesty!"


    The Emperor stood gazing calmly out of the large glass walls of his conservatory and into the scene beyond. When he heard the butler''s voice, he turned his face slightly to the left and narrowed his eyes.


    "This better be something of importance, Carsten," he said, as he turned his face back to gaze at the tranquil view. "I was having a lovely time."


    "Y-Yes, Your Majesty," the poor butler bowed low. "Knights'' Commander Sage is requesting an audience along with some of his knights."


    The Emperor scowled. "What business do they have?"


    The Butler was still deep in his bow, and his posture implied that he was in great discomfort, yet the Emperor never gave him an order to do so much as rise.


    "I am not aware, Your Majesty," the Butler uttered out. "They wouldn''t say."


    The Emperor let out a frustrated sigh and adjusted his robes over his shoulders. "Fine, let them in. You may rise."


    The Butler stood up straight from his bow. "Eternal blessings and glory upon the Empire of Wisteria." With that, he turned on his heel and clip-clopped out of the Conservatory, walking swiftly over the marble floor.


    The Emperor focused on the faded footsteps as he inhaled the fragrance of a wide array of exotic flowers and almost extinct plants. This was his Conservatory. A place of calm for him. Recently with the alleged death of the princess, he had found himself spending more and more time near the tranquility his flowers emitted. It frustrated him when people continuously disturbed him soˇ­


    Now, what might Commander Sage have for him?


    His answer came when multiple pairs of feet could be heard clopping crisply over the marble tiles.


    "Your Majesty," Commander Sage, who led his small posse of knights, said gravely. But the Emperor noticed that he had a glint of excitement in his eyes. The Emperor turned as Commander Sage fell into a bow and rose before the Emperor gave him permission to do so. "We''ve gathered every suspicious individual who left the Empire on the day of the Princess''s... ermˇ­ dispatch. Just like you ordered."


    The Emperor scanned Sage''s face and found no signs of fear or regret. All there was was sheer bravery and confidence. The Emperor narrowed his eyes.


    "And where are they?"


    "In shackles, Your Majesty, just outside your office."


    The Emperor didn''t like dirty peasants roaming his lovely, lovely palace. But this wasn''t the time to think about such things. He beckoned to his servant who had almost conflated with the background and almost instantly, the servant brought him a grand chair with the help of another. The Emperor sat down with a loud ''thup'' that echoed in the tall arch ceilinged Conservatory.


    "Bring them in," he said grandly with a wave of his hands.


    Commander Sage nodded and signaled his knights to carry out the orders. Four knights bowed and exited out of the conservatory. A minute later they returned, their heavy steps indicating their arrival. But it sounded far more than just 4 pairs of feet.


    As the knights got closer, the Emperor saw that they were tugging along with them 12 people, men, in black blindfolds and their wrists and legs in chains. They seemed to be in the most awful condition, as if they had been forced to roll around in dirt for hours.


    The Emperor''s moustache twitched at the sight.


    The men seemed to be between the ages of 25-50, and all of them walked sluggishly and uncertainly as if they had no idea what was going on. The Emperor waited patiently till all 12 men were lined up before him neatly. They didn''t utter a word, but whimpers escaped their grey, cut lips.


    Commander Sage bellowed, "Kneel at once, for you are before you Emperor, His Majesty, Haleth Xyvir De Klaern II!"


    Hesitantly, all 12 men fell to their knees, their heads bent low. His Majesty scrutinized the group. Indeed, all of them did look, if not like murderers, a bit suspicious.


    The Emperor glanced at Commander Sage who was looking smugly at the group he and his men had gathered.


    "Your Majesty, one of them is bound to be the culprit!" Commander Sage said animatedly. "All of them were reported to have exited the Empire around the discovery of the Princess''s death. Some left a day before and some even escaped the very day. I had them captured instantly, Your Majesty. And all of them seem to be potential murderers, judging by their appearances."


    The Emperor rolled his eyes. Sage was getting too ahead of himself, of course, and with what logic did he explain his actions? The foolish brain was only good enough to be sent to war.


    Slowly, The Emperor rose from his throne and walked slowly along the line of kneeling men. "Say, you the one in the grey tunic," The Emperor addressed the man at the very end of the line. "What were your reasons for leaving Wisteria?"


    The man gulped and stuttered when he opened his mouth to speak, "I-I have family in Lupis, Your Majesty." Lupis was an Empire 1500 miles north-west from Wisteria''s borders.


    "Surely a lie, Your Majesty!" Commander Sage exclaimed but he was cut off by a sharp glance from the Emperor.


    The Emperor nodded, his attention back on the captured men. "Next..." he muttered, "you! Wearing the red threaded bracelet. State your reasons."


    Slowly, one by one, the Emperor heard all the various reasons given by the men in shackles, though he knew not that none of them had murdered anybody.


    These poor, innocent menˇ­ what was to become of them?

 Chapter 61 - Put To The Sword

    The Emperor wondered how he should go about with the proceedings.


    "Sage," he said, authority all over his voice.


    Commander sage suddenly stood to attention. "Yes, Your Majesty?"


    "Give me your sword."


    Commander Sage was taken aback. He wasn''t sure he had heard correctly.


    "Pardon, Your Majesty?"


    The Emperor sighed, exasperated. "Your f*cking sword, Sage! Give it to me."


    Slowly, Commander Sage removed the sheathed sword from his waist and handed it to the Emperor. He flinched when the Emperor snatched it from his hands and stepped back cautiously.


    "Your Majesty, c-careful with that."


    Annoyed, the Emperor pulled the sword out of its covering in a split of a second and pointed it straight at Commander Sage''s neck, the corner of its blade at his throat. Commander Sage wanted to gulp, for his eyes showed fear, but he knew that if he gulped, his Adam''s apple was likely to be slashed by the sword''s sharp, glistening blade.


    The Emperor looked furious. "I know how to use a sword, Sage."


    "Y-Yes, Your Majesty. Forgive my words," Commander Sage stuttered, afraid.


    The Emperor slowly looked away from Commander Sage''s face to the first person in line kneeling before him. He donned a white handkerchief as a head wrap and trembled in his shackles. His reason for leaving the Empire was simple: He had wanted to pay his son a visit who had found love in Clatoise.


    Even the mention of that wretched kingdom made the Emperor gag. He hated it. His long built up resentment of what King Irvin had put him through boiled inside, and he slowly found himself lifting his sword.


    Commander Sage noticed and tried to stop him. "Y-Your Majesty--"


    But before his words were complete, the head of the man donning a white head wrap rolled towards the Emperor''s feet. It spouted a gush of dark blood at the neck which slowly grew into a puddle, dirtying the Emperor''s shoes.


    "Ugh, how filthy," the Emperor mumbled as he stepped back.


    The rest of the men had heard the little scream that had escaped the man as the sword had sliced into the thick of his neck, and they had also heard the ''plop'' as the head had fallen on the pristine marble floor, soon covered in red.


    As realization dawned upon them of what had just taken place, their bodies started quivering violently. All the life from Commander Sage''s eyes drained out as he switched his fear filled gaze from the Emperor''s face to the detached head at his feet.


    "Y-Y-Your Majesty..." he croaked as his eyes widened. "What did you-"


    And yet again, before Commander Sage could complete his words, the sword''s blade was at the second man''s neck and with great force, it slashed through skin, veins and bone. Blood spouted everywhere from the opening at the man''s neck before his torso flopped down and he lay there, lifeless next to his blindfolded head.


    The man''s blood mixed with the other''s.


    The knights that stood behind Commander Sage exchanged desperate glances, as they had never witnessed the Emperor''s deathly rage before.


    "Your Majesty," Commander Sage finally found the bravery to speak up, "it pains us to see you dirtying your robes. Would you like the knights to take care of thisˇ­?"


    The Emperor wasn''t listening. He had a hysterical gleam in his eyes. Ah, how long had it been since he had shed some blood? Oh, what joy!


    At once, his eyes were on his next victim and before it would take you to finish saying ''Cynthia Amaryll De Klaern'', the Emperor had added another head to his collection. Slowly, heads fell to the floor and the Conservatory seemed more like a blood bath. The lovely flowers got splashed with the droplets of flying blood and got covered with the pungent stench.


    The knights retreated towards the walls, wary of the Emperor in this dangerous state. Once the beheading was completed and the last of the screams was heard, the Emperor handed his sword lazily to a scared servant who scurried off with it as he sat down in his chair.


    "What do you think, Sage?" he asked grandly with a wave of his hand to the man with eyes almost out of his skull.


    He stuttered and gasped before he found words to answer. "I-I..It''s- Who are we to defy your actions, Your Majesty?"


    The Emperor narrowed his eyes and leaned forward menacingly. "I''m asking what you think, Sage." He put a lot of emphasis on the Commander''s name.


    Commander Sage gulped and looked at the blood on his shoes. "Of course, we must be cautious, especially knowing the fact that the matter concerns the princess. Killing them off was indeed the best option, Your Majesty." Commander Sage hated lying through his teeth, but he would do so if it meant saving his own skin.


    Satisfied, the Emperor nodded. He slipped off his grand robe and threw it on top of the puddle of blood at his feet after he had wiped his hands on it.


    "Hadley," he roared to his loyal maid who stood by his side at once. "Run me a bath."


    With that, everyone began to exit the bloody scene.


    ?


    Cautiously, I opened the door to Mama''s room and peeked in.


    She lay fast asleep on her arm chair, but I paused when I saw that Whisker wasn''t in his usual spot on her lap. I stretched up to see over Mama''s armchair and sighed a sigh of relief when I found the large rat curled up on his cushion.


    Slowly, softly, I tip-toed inside and looked back once again before pulling the key out from under my dress and clenching it tightly in my hand.


    I walked towards the painting over the patterned carpet and stood before the painting of the rosy girl once again, scanning it with curiosity and awe.


    My hand reached forward and lingered at her shoes which had a smudged tip. Carefully, I put two fingers behind the canvas frame and yanked it towards me. Like a magnetic door being unlatched, the painting swung towards me. I glanced around once again, just to be cautious, before opening the little locker door behind it and quietly slipping the key in.


    I escaped the way I had come in, leaving no trace of my visit behind.

 Chapter 62 - Where Tears Were Shed

    Everybody was asleep so I had to go answer the knock at the front door.


    Since the news of the princess''s murder had been through each and every ear, I didn''t need to worry much about getting caught. Slowly, I trotted towards the door and undid the latch. Opening it an inch, I looked through the little gap and asked, "Who is it?" in my most hoarsest voice.


    "It''s me."


    Ah, that familiar, oh-so-husky voice I hadn''t heard for a while. With a long, drawn out creak, I opened the door all the way and stood face to face with our visitor.


    Reynard didn''t look so good.


    His usually messy hair looked deliberately disheveled this time, and his skin looked darker than usual. My mouth fell open with worry at the sunken eye-d creature that stood before me. Had he not been getting any sleep this past week?


    "Hey," he said, looking down into my eyes with an unfocused gaze. "You''ve been doing okay?"


    I nodded and stepped aside to let him through. I closed the door after he was inside and turned around to face him.


    "What''s been going on with you?" I asked sharply with a tilt of my head. "You look like a mess."


    He smirked as he scanned me. "Not much more than you," he muttered after a while. I realized I was as dusty as ever and dusted my dress self consciously. When I looked up, he was turning the handle to Mama Ruth''s room.


    I watched him pause. He turned to look at me, hesitance written all over his face.


    "Is she asleep?" he whispered, frowning, but there was a hint of amusement on his face. "I can hear her snores from here."


    I giggled as I jumped forward. "Yeah, she probably is," I said airily. "Anyways, interested in checking out my room? It''s upstairs."


    He shrugged and followed me to the top. As I walked past Room#1 and Room#2, I wondered if I could ask Reynard about the suspicious case of the identical white lilies. That''ll do for another time, I decided. Right now, I needed to ask what Reynard''s been up to to have turned up looking like this.


    "This here," I said as I pushed open the door to Room#3, "is mine. Thoughts?"


    Reynard scrunched up his face in obvious displeasure. "L-Lovely."


    I scoffed and went to flop down on my bed. "Sit," I said, patting the space behind me. "What''s been going on? Why do you look so sick?"


    Reynard shook his head as he flopped down next to me, his head low. He gave out a long, deep sigh and shook his head before sitting upright. "Ohˇ­ you knowˇ­ I''ve been grand. Just a bit busy."


    I nodded as I crossed my leg over the other. "Andˇ­? How''s your mother?"


    At that, he seemed to droop down so low, I thought his spine had disappeared.


    "Reynard?"


    "Sick, still," he mumbled, his voice muffled. "More so, actually."


    I turned towards him. "Noˇ­ What happened?"


    When  he rose up, I saw that there were tears in his eyes that threatened to flow out.


    "She''s started vomiting buckets and it''s just so, so awful seeing life leaving her. It just pains me so. I don''t even know what to do anymore but to just sit there and see her suffer."


    I nodded along with every word and patted his back. "It''ll get betterˇ­It''ll get better..."


    He sniffed and hid his face behind his hands. I stared sadly at the floorboards, because I had never been in such a position ever before, so I didn''t know how best to comfort a miserable person.


    Then suddenly, an idea struck me.


    "Reynard!" I exclaimed, my eyes widening. Why didn''t I come up with this before? "What if we feed her my hair?"


    For a while, everything was silent. I heard water drip from the kitchen tap downstairs and my own breaths going rhythmically in and out with it. Then Reynard perked up with a new shine in his eyes.


    "What?" he whispered, his face only an inch away from me. "What did you say?"


    I licked my lips which had suddenly gone very dry. Now that I thought about it, the idea wasn''t half bad. Would feeding her my hair be a bit disgusting? Well, it would mean nothing if it could save her life, right?


    "I said," I uttered, gathering up the little courage that I had, "should we feed her my hair? She''ll surely be restored to health again if we do that, I''m sure of it!" Truth be told, I wasn''t sure at all, but I think that seemed enough for Reynard.


    Reynard held his chin as he thought about it. I could see the wheels in his head spin. I itched to ask him what he thought, but I gave him the time to think it over. Slowly, his dark, sunken face glowed up.


    "So?" I asked hopefully. "Are you up for it?"


    Without any warning, I was swooped in for a hug.


    "W-w-w-w-w-wha-" I sputtered, my face up against something solid. I couldn''t say the word.


    I was clenched in by my shoulder blades, a heavy weight bearing down on my shoulderˇ­ and then I realized Reynard was crying.


    "Reynard?" I whispered quietly, as his ear was right beside my face.


    I don''t think he heard me because still, little sobs escaped him. The two arms I had awkwardly dangling by my sides, I lifted them and patted Reynard on the back. At that, his grip tightened and I was pulled in.


    I was aware of my shoulder getting damp by Reynard''s tears, but I cared not. I assumed he was crying because he was happy, so I felt relieved as well. It felt nice to be with someone in one of their hard times. Maybe that''s why he came over after all this time, just to get comforted. Even if I had never met Reynard''s mother before, I had grown quite fond of her.


    Soon, when his tears had dried out, Reynard let go of me and sat back, his face hidden by shadows.


    "Alright now?" I asked gently. "So it means that your mother can be restored to full health, yes?"


    He sniffed and lifted his head as he rubbed it vigorously with his hands. Red rimmed eyes were revealed after he lowered his hands and below those eyes was a crooked smile.


    "Yeah," he murmured as he lay back on my bed and put an arm over his eyes. "It was all so simple..."


    I nodded and leaned back on the headboard, finally relieved. Maybe...maybe my arrival in this world wasn''t totally pointless.


    ?


    In the 4th room from Cynthia''s, Sven sat examining the princess''s hair.


    "I had no idea," Sven muttered to himself. "I had no idea she actually was the princess..."


    For Sven had just been guessing to tease poor Cynthia. Oh how he had hidden his shock when the princess''s face had crumbled and she had given into Sven''s flimsy tease.


    Sven raked a hand through his long, silver hair and let out a loud, exasperated sigh.


    "How am I supposed to face her again?" he mumbled helplessly as he put Cynthia''s hair strands in his drawer and slammed it shut. "Aghh!"


    Sven punched his pillow a few times before his bony knuckles started feeling the dull pain. He buried his head under the same pillow to block out any and all thoughts and that''s when he heard two pairs of feet coming up the stairs. It was strange because the only other person except the Princess in this inn was Sven and Mama, and it''s been ages since Mama climbed the stairs. So who was this?


    Carefully, Sven put his head around the doorway and peeked outside just in time to see a familiar silhouette of a man coming up the stairs beside the princess''s small one.


    Sven pulled his head back and pursed his lips, recognizing Reynard instantly.


    A week ago was the first time Reynard Gradral ever came to Ogden Cove, but he knew him since way before them. Mama always told Sven about a boy near his age she usually met whenever she went to the market and that his name was Reynard.


    Sven had always been curious of this guy, as he''d only heard tales of him. But a week ago, when he saw him for the first time, Sven felt like he''d known Reynard all his life.


    After a while of pacing in his room (because he felt too weird walking across the princess''s room when her door was open), Sven heard faint sobs.


    He stood, alert, in case this Reynard had made the princess cry. But then he heard the soothing words of the princess trying to calm the crying person and Sven realized who was actually crying.


    Nothing else to do, he laid down and went to sleep.

 Chapter 63 - Women Talk

    [The Ladies'' Sunroom]


    The women sat around the round, draped table having specially made cups of tea according to their own preferences. Christabel put hers down in the gold rimmed saucer and coughed gracefully to address the whole table.


    "So, ladies," she smiled, her pearl white teeth shining behind her cherry stained lips. "Isn''t today a lovely day?"


    "Not more than usual," Lorelei sighed, sipping from her cup. "It''s been much too lonely without the princess."


    An atmosphere of hush fell on the table.


    "How much ever the tragic incident befalls us, we mustn''t let it hinder our duties, ladies," Yesenia, who was ever the level-headed woman, imparted. "Lady Sumner, how have you been doing lately?"


    Everybody turned to look at the elegant, red-headed woman seated near the corner. Yvonne smiled uncertainly at the sudden attention, her ice blue eyes widening in alarm.


    "Oh, yes..." she mumbled as she put down her cup of tea, her red painted lips barely moving. "I''ve settled in quite fittingly. The maids here have kept me wonderful company in my earliest hard times at the Royal palace."


    "And have we not?" Christabel pouted as she folded her arms. "I thought we got along well, Lady Sumner."


    Yvonne just wanted to finish the tea and leave, for she did not enjoy associating with these inwardly hostile females, ready to point daggers at each others'' throats when the time came. Yvonne flicked her eyes towards Christabel, who was still pouting, and then her eyes scanned everyone else at the table...coming to rest on Lady Obsilia- or Elora, as we all like to call the snake.


    Yvonne smiled her fatal smile, at which Elora scoffed and downed her tea. She looked back at Christabel.


    "Yes, of course. I''ve found great comfort in everyone''s presence."


    Christabel slumped back, half satisfied as she wasn''t given special attention to. Still, she smiled and gave Lorelei by her side a friendly nudge.


    Elora put down her cup with a louder than necessary clink and smiled sweetly at Yvonne. "Lady Sumner, was it? Oh, what a lovely, lovely name. Was your father a landscaper?"


    Yvonne blinked for a moment, then smiled. Inside, she felt like she wanted to strangle Elora for looking upon her with contempt.


    "No, my dear lady," Yvonne uttered softly as she picked up her cup again and took a sip. "He was a respectable earl. Why? Is your father a pond-cleaner?"


    Elora turned beet red and she slapped her palms on the table. "Wh-What insolence! My father was a duke, for goodness'' sake!"


    Christabel and Lorelei sniggered. It was rare that Elora would get so riled up by one of the mistresses as she considered herself above everyone else.


    "Oh, well," Yvonne breathed as she absent-mindedly circled the rim of her cup. "I only asked in case you mentioned my father because your own was looking for a helper. Wouldn''t a pond-cleaner look good tagging behind a landscaper? Oh, what a duo that would be!"


    Yvonne smiled triumphantly while Elora gaped at her. She had never been talked back to that way, never in a couple decades! Huffily, Elora pulled her hands back off the table and hung them limply by her side.


    "Lady Sumner," Odette said calmly as she fixed her monocle, who had been supervising the whole ordeal, but since she didn''t like Elora more than the rest of them, she decided to stay silent about the comeback. "I hope the food has been up to your liking here. I heard King Irvin has some of the best sous chefs under his wing, so I was afraid our chefs wouldn''t be able to produce to the level of your refined tastes."


    Yvonne waved her hands dismissively, her eyebrows curving with worry. "No, no, everything''s quite alright! How considerate of you to ask, though."


    Odette smiled gently and sipped her tea while Elora seethed in her seat.


    "I-I need to go to the lavatories, if you could please excuse me," Elora mumbled as she clumsily got up and strode off, her maids hurrying in tow. The moment Elora left the room, everybody started chattering loudly.


    "Oh, that vile, vile woman," Lorelei hissed as she looked at the door. "I was quite impressed how you didn''t succumb to her words, Lady Sumner."


    "Please," Yvonne laughed shyly, "just Yvonne would suffice. Has Lady Obsilia always been this way?"


    "Oh, you have no idea!" Christabel drawled out as she leaned back in her chair. "I remember when I first came here, she was such a dear, always caring and asking after me. I don''t know what happened after a month or two, but her personality change was as appalling as ever. I asked Yesenia but she told me that Elora had never been a dear to begin with."


    Yesenia nodded somberly, staring into her teacup.


    Yvonne folded her arms as she furrowed her eyebrows, tilting her head at Christabel.


    "What was her personality change like?" she asked with deep curiosity.


    Christabel played with the ribbons on her dress. "Oh, you knowˇ­strange. She started being a bit violent. We all noticed."


    Lorelei, Yesenia, Odette and Enya (who had been there the whole time) nodded in agreement.


    Yesenia leaned forward, a maniacal gleam in her eyes. "Violent how?"


    Christabel rolled a ribbon around her index finger as she stared at her bodice. "She would ''accidentally'' drop flowerpots over the terrace whenever one of us was out having a walk. Thank god our guards were always there to protect us. I once found broken glass in my shoe whilst I was slipping it on, and I got injured rather badly. I still have the small scars to prove it. One day when I came back from a dressing appointment in town, I found my wardrobe in a mess and all my dresses slashed. When I confronted Elora, she assigned baseless blame to my maids and had them thrown into the dungeons without my consent. Personally, I think she''s insecure about her position at the palace."


    Lorelei nodded, her face screwed up in pain as she remembered her past. "We''ve experienced similar happenings, though we never had solid proof to accuse her of these sins. His Majesty favors her a lot, anyway."


    Yesenia tapped her finger on the table at a second intervals. "She''s much worse lately, now that the princess was starting to get more confident in her standing. Well...before the incident, that is."


    From the silent side of the table, a small voice squeaked up. "I heard she abuses her maids."


    Everybody''s faces turned to Enya who sat with her head so low that her dark brown hair dipped in her teacup that sat untouched on the table.


    "What?" Yvonne asked, her eyes wide.


    Enya lifted her head a little, revealing two amber irises. "She beats them. Her maids. I saw them covering their bruises as they ran to the physicians."


    Everyone fell silent.


    The ladies'' maids that stood around the table to serve them furtively exchanged anxious glances. Yvonne noticed the exchange from the corners of her eyes and decided to ask more.


    "Bruises, you say?" she said very softly as she reached forward and put a gentle hand on Enya''s shaking one, at which Enya flinched but didn''t pull her hand away. "Tell us more."


    Enya trembled in her seat as she stared at her cold tea. Her lips opened to form words, but none came out.


    Yvonne patted Enya''s hand. "Well?"


    Enya gave a long sigh and sat straighter before she spoke. "She accidentally dropped a tiny vial in the halls once. Before I even opened it to check, I knew what it was. I could tell from the smell that it was some kind of poison."


    Everyone looked at each other worriedly. "Poison? What''s she been doing with poison?"


    Enya took a deep, shaky breath. "Apparently, she''s been building up her tolerance for poison by consuming a small amount of it everyday mixed in her tea. E-Even now, there''s no way of telling if the tea she had been drinking was contaminated."


    Instinctively, everybody''s eyes went to the little lone teacup Elora had been drinking from before she had supposedly run off to the lavatories. Lorelei shivered while Christabel gagged. Yesenia and Odette sat silent.


    "How interesting," Yvonne muttered, her thoughts running wild. Elora Obsilia was a much more interesting character than she had thought her to be. Truth be told, Yvonne was exhilarated upon hearing all this. "What type of poison was it?"


    Enya shrugged as she hadn''t a clue. At this, Odette spoke up.


    "If you have the bottle, still, I would surely be able to tell which poison Elora''s so afraid of."


    Yvonne raised her eyebrows, impressed. She had been told that Odette was a very knowledgeable woman, and it seemed that she hadn''t been lied to. She could be a great asset to her.


    Yvonne had a plan forming in her mind, and she knew perfectly well how to execute it.

 Chapter 64 - Apology

    "Is the head physician unoccupied at the moment?"


    The maid sweeping near the infirmary looked up and saw the lovely Lady Sumner addressing her. Hastily, she curtsied and fixed her bonnet.


    "Not at the moment, Your Highness, for I am afraid the head physician is by the Emperor''s side for the while."


    Yvonne smiled sweetly. "What for?"


    The maid staggered, momentarily taken aback. "F-For His Royal Majesty''s weekly check-up, Your Highness."


    Yvonne nodded, thinking a bit before responding.


    "Is any other physician available, then?" she asked as she absent-mindedly pulled her white lace gloves higher over her elbow.


    The maid nodded. "I think Vance is still inside. Would you like me to go check, Your Highness?"


    "No, thank you," Yvonne smiled as she proceeded towards the humongous double-doors and put a hand on large brass handles. "I''d rather check myself."


    ?


    Reynard asked me all sorts of questions about how I was faring under Mama Ruth''s shelter.


    "I keep telling you, I''m alright!" I exclaimed when he asked the nth time. For goodness'' sake, I was happy to see him but this was getting on my nerves.


    "But I can''t help worrying, nonetheless," he cried as he threw his hands in the air. "You know how difficult Mama is!"


    I gave a grunt as I folded my legs up on the bed and stared at him from afar. He raised his eyebrows helplessly and stared right back at me.


    "Is Mister Verel still there?"


    Reynard flinched at the sudden change of topic. "Mister...Verel?"


    I nodded. "Yeah, the jeweler."


    Reynard gave me ''The Look''. "What do you want from the jeweler? Weren''t you poor-"


    "NO! I don''t want to buy anything, but I want him to examine an article for me since it seemed that he had much knowledge on the subject."


    Reynard was very confused. I could tell because he had his eyebrows furrowed while squinting at me. "Is it something valuable?" he asked. "Can I see?"


    I nodded and pulled the white lily brooch from my drawer. This one belonged to me, and I was sure that Reynard had seen it once before because he had been mostly by my side since the escape.


    He took it tenderly from my hand and examined it. "This does look pretty valuable. And familiar, though I can''t remember where I''ve seen it before. I''m sure Mister Verel, that old man, would be glad to take a nice and close look at it."


    I nodded tensely. Thank god he didn''t know that there was an exact same copy of it, but slightly in a worse condition, not 5 feet away from him. And it wasn''t even mine.


    "Alright then," Reynard grunted, standing up. "I''m gonna go have it examined. Do you have any questions you''d like to ask him about it?"


    I clenched and unclenched my hands as I stared at the white brooch in his hand. "Ask him how old it is...and if he recognizes an article like this at all."


    Reynard nodded and flipped the brooch high into the air before catching it with a flick of his wrist. I widened my eyes in alarm, looking at him with an expression that said: ''Dude, you could''ve dropped it!''


    And he tilted his head with an expression: "But I didn''t." Then he stuck his tongue out at me and disappeared out the door.


    I waited to hear the soft thud of the main door downstairs and that''s when I knew he was gone. I didn''t ask him to stay longer because I could tell that he was embarrassed about crying in front of me. The way he kept avoiding my gaze and flinching at my every move, I knew it was best he left early.


    I was about to get up to close the door so I could read a bit more of Mama''s diary when Sven peeked in. Startled, I sat back down.


    "He left?" Sven asked as he came to stand in the doorway.


    I nodded, a tad bit confused. "Yes." Then I remembered how he had broken my hair without my consent and I got all huffy. "What do you want?"


    He stood there awkwardly and scratched his neck as he scanned my room. I could tell that he was avoiding my gaze.


    "Oh...erm..." he muttered quietly. "I''m sorry for...y''know..."


    I raised my eyebrows. "Forˇ­?"


    He shook his head. "You know..."


    I folded my arms, waiting for him to continue. God, I was enjoying this.


    "I''m sorry for hurting you," he mumbled, his eyes on the floor. "Y-Your Highness."


    I burst out laughing and he turned beet red, probably wondering what was wrong with me. I tried to stifle my laughter, I really did, but I couldn''t keep it in, hence ruining the seriousness of the moment.


    "We''re good if you don''t do it again," I sighed as I wiped a tear off my bottom eyelid.


    He nodded somberly and then shuffled back to his own room.


    I laughed to myself as I replayed our conversation in my mind, going about my own tasks.


    ?


    "Vance? Is there someone named Vance here?"


    Yvonne pushed away a large red curtain with golden tassels dangling at the bottom.


    "Hello?" she called as she walked into a large hall with a lot of white sheeted beds against the two main opposite walls. "Anybody here...?"


    It was all too silent in the infirmary. None of the beds were occupied at the moment; maybe that was why they were all so well made. Yvonne walked in over the pristine white floor, her silver stringed shoes clacking loudly inside the empty hall. Her regal purple evening gown slithered lightly over the floor as she proceeded to walk towards a large white wooden cabinet to her side.


    It had a heavy stock of all kinds of medicines in vials and bottles. There were bandages and some metal instruments as well. Yvonne slid back the drawer she had been checking when she heard footsteps of someone other than herself.


    "Ah, my lady," a blonde man gasped from afar as he made haste to come before her and bowed. "Are you injured? Please sit down and let me examine-"


    "No, no!" Yvonne laughed at which the blonde man, presumably Vance, blushed. "I am not at all in pain. Rather, I came here to meet the physician for another reason."


    The man, Yvonne noticed, dressed in an all white uniform, fidgeted with his fingers as he stood there.


    "The head physician isn''t here at the moment, if you were hoping to converse with him. Though I am available, if that is alright?"


    Yvonne nodded, her gorgeous red waves bouncing on her head. "That''s fine. Please sit, for I would like to talk comfortably."


    Vance nodded and sat himself down on the bed closest to them. Yvonne, too, made herself home and lifted the folds of her dress before sitting down on the crisp white sheet.


    "So," she said airily to a nervous Vance. "How long have you been working as a physician, say?"


    Vance played with his fingers while he responded, "3 years, Your Highness."


    Yvonne did the maths in her head and frowned. "Is there any physician who kept working at the palace since the princess''s birth?"


    Vance noticeably flinched at the question. The topic had become quite sensitive, especially after the princess''s alleged death. Taboo, one would say. Yvonne pursed her lips and waited for Vance to gather himself to answer.


    "One, Your Highness," he replied after a while. "The head physician, Iefyr."


    "Iefyr..." Yvonne mumbled to nobody in particular. So that was his name, she thought. "Has Iefyr always been His Majesty, the Emperor''s physician?"


    Vance nodded. "Yes, Your Highness. According to what I know, Elder Iefyr has been working at the palace since 25 years. His Majesty values him very much."


    Yvonne smiled sweetly, at which Vance blushed some more and averted his gaze.


    "Alright, then!" Yvonne stood up with a jolt, for she had gathered the information she had come for. "I''ll be off then. It was nice talking to you."


    As Yvonne strode away, Vance looked on helplessly, confused and still nervous as he remembered his conversation with the lady and tried to weed out the lady''s goal.


    But oh dear, he could not.

 Chapter 65 - Yvonnes Surprise

    [The Emperor''s Private Chambers]


    "You''re in perfect health, Your Majesty."


    The Emperor smiled, his moustache lifting up, as he sat straighter in his bed.


    "Thank you, Iefyr," he replied grandly as he flexed his knuckles. Finally, he was done with the dire weekly checkup that he so loathed, but understood was essential. After all, the Emperor must always make sure that he is in good health. For the sake of his empire, of course.


    Iefyr stood back with all his tools and trinkets in his arms and looked on at the Emperor lying in bed. He furrowed his eyebrows for a moment as he thought about something.


    "Something on your mind, Iefyr?" His Majesty asked as he caught him scowling. "You look a bit tenser than usual."


    Iefyr pursed his lips under his bushy white beard. "''Tis but a thought, Your Majesty, but you seem in a quality mental state."


    The Emperor raised his eyebrows as he inspected a stray thread on his bedspread. "How pleasant. What is your point?"


    Iefyr sighed. Had the princess''s demise not altered his mentality at all? It made sense sinceˇ­ Well, neverminded. Iefyr dismissed the thought at once as his mind hovered back to the present. "Have you given any thought about effectuating the princess''s funeral?"


    The Emperor, on hearing this, ripped out the stray strand from the bedspread in one swift motion, causing a long drawn out SKREEETTT to penetrate through his chambers.


    "Ah, the dreaded funeral," he mumbled bitterly. "Yes, well. Preparations shall be made soon, so worry not, old man."


    Iefyr bowed his head, too frightened to meet the Emperor''s eyes. "Then I shall take my leave. Eternal blessings and glory upon the empire of Wisteria."


    "Yes, yes." The Emperor lazily waved him away. "Get out, now. Where''s Gradral? I''ve ordered to have him constantly by my side but he keeps disappearing. Bring him in, somebody."


    Bowing, two guards immediately sprung into action and hurried outside to carry out His Majesty''s orders. Sighing, the Emperor wriggled down into his bedspread and put his head against his plush pillow which immediately enveloped him up to his temples.


    Ahh, what a lovely day, he thought to himself as he stared up at his dome-shaped ceiling. It was painted with a lovely oil mural of the artist''s depiction of the three Goddess sisters: The Fates.


    The Fates were also sometimes recalled as the Moirai. Their names were Clotho, Lachesis and Atropos. Each of the three Fates, who were always mentioned as three woman spinners in Greek mythology, had a particular job, which was disclosed by their own personal names: Clotho weaved the thread of life, Lachesis measured its length, and Atropos, with her shears, cut it off. Each of the Fates was sometimes allocated to a distinct time period: Atropos was assigned to the past, Clotho to the present, and Lachesis to the future.


    They had immense power, to the point where even Zeus couldn''t recall their judgments.


    The Emperor looked wearily at the fading mural and grimaced. He had wanted to change that for years, but never got to it. Maybe now that he had a lot of leisure time, maybe he could have it repainted to suit his liking?


    The Emperor turned to his side and the bed wheezed under his weight, when from behind him he heard a knock on the door.


    "Enter!" he bellowed as he sat up.


    "Your Majesty, it is I," Sir Gradral said calmly as he pushed open one of the two heavy doors and looked in. "You called?"


    The Emperor nodded as he beckoned him to come in. "Any letters from Irvin?"


    "Unfortunately not, Your Majesty," Sir Gradral said somberly as he bowed. "Would you like me to send off an emissary on your behalf?"


    The Emperor sighed and massaged his nose bridge, clearly in deep thought. Sir Gradral stood there in wait, while the Emperor grumbled to himself and then eventually sighed.


    "Yeah, you do that, Gradral," the Emperor muttered. "And have someone check on Zyair''s son as well. Whatwashisname, Marcello? Him."


    Sir Gradral nodded and made a mental note of that.


    "Oh, and send someone to check on Zyair himself. What if the old fool died before delivering my letter? Goodness''s sake..."


    Sir Gradral made a furtive face and noted that as well.


    "Anything else, Your Majesty?"


    The Emperor grumbled. "Send in someone to repaint my ceiling. It''s giving me a migraine."


    Sir Gradral did a quick take at the ceiling and frowned in confusion. It looked pretty okay to him. Still, he nodded along with the Emperor''s every word.


    "Go on, then." The Emperor waved him away as he slid back down into his sheets. "Get out of my chambers. While on your way, do let guard know to have no one wake me up till I decide to do so myself."


    Even though the Emperor''s back was turned, Sir Gradral bowed and left as quickly and swiftly as possible. He mumbled to the two guards stationed outside his room about the Emperor''s order and then walked off to prepare the emissaries.


    ?


    As Elder Physician Iefyr walked weakly down the corridors with his instruments in hand, he heard footsteps other than his own from not far ahead. Slowly, a gorgeous red head of hair came into view, glowing beautifully like a ruby in its brightest state. Soon, when the person came closer, the physician- who was short of sight- gasped and bowed hastily, dropping some of his instruments in the process.


    "Oh, dear! Let me aid you," Yvonne exclaimed as she ran forward and bent to pick up the things.


    "But my lady, you mustn''t!" Iefyr tried to bend down to gather his belongings himself but due to his old age, he couldn''t go past a 50 degree angle. "Oh dear," he mumbled worriedly, his white eyebrows stuck together with concern. "You didn''t have to do that, my lady."


    "It''s absolutely fine," Yvonne said as she stood up and handed the man his things after which she straightened the folds of her dress to ease out any wrinkles. Though helpful, she was still a lady after all. "Say, who might you be, elder?"


    Iefyr the physician bowed slightly. "''Tis I, head physician to the Klaern family, my lady. Iefyr Eldar is my name."


    Ahhh, Yvonne thought to herself, so this is the guy. She was back on her way to her chambers after meeting with Vance. Of course, she had wanted to talk to the head physician in the first place, but her quota of the day was done for and she just wanted to go fulfill her beauty sleep. As most ladies do. But here he was, Mister Head Physician at her service.


    Yvonne smiled sweetly as she tried to hide her tireness. "May I address you as Eldar?"


    "Absolutely, my lady." Eladar (we''ll call him that from now) fixed his robes and went about way before soon realizing that the royal mistress was walking in tow to him. "May I help you? Pray tell, are you perhaps injured?"


    Yvonne put her hands behind her back and stopped in her tracks. "No."


    "Then is there any other way I may help you? Though I doubt it since all I know is restoring health. How may I be of service?"


    Yvonne laughed pleasantly at the old man''s words and Eldar smiled, his already thin eyes becoming crescents.


    "I was thinking if I could perhaps get to talk to you?" she asked politely. "If that''s not too much to ask. Are you unoccupied now?"


    "Yes, of course," Eldar said, raising his eyebrows. "You wouldn''t mind walking with me back to the infirmary, I hope? I need to put these trinkets away."


    Yvonne nodded and hurried to join the old man as he trotted back to his work house.


    They laughed and joked all the way. Soon they stood before the door of the infirmary where the familiar maid was wiping the windows now.


    "Done with the sweeping already?" Yvonne asked her before she went in. "My, I must commend your work ethic!"


    The maid blushed heavily and mumbled out a word of thanks. In a good mood, Yvonne went into the infirmary where Eldar was putting his things back into the white wooden drawers.


    "Now, what would you like to discuss with this old bodach?" Eldar said as he stroked his long beard. Yvonne quite liked the look of it, and she constantly stopped herself from touching it. Now that Eldar himself was err...feeling it up...or should I say down. Yvonne was intrigued.


    "Say, Eldar," Yvonne muttered. "Before we begin, can I touch your beard?"


    Eldar''s hand paused mid-stroke and his eyes widened as he wondered if he had heard correctly. But by the look of the hopeful lady that stood before him, he had no doubt. He sighed at the strange request which reminded him of his grandchildren and he gave in with a smile.


    "Of course."


    Cautiously, Yvonne stepped forward and let a gentle hand run over the soft yet prickly white beard that almost went down to the floor. Then she stepped back, pleased.


    "Lovely," she said, grinning. "Now for what I was actually here for, Eldar."


    "Yes, my lady. Do tell."


    Yvonne squeezed her hands together and stared on the floor before looking back up determinedly and cried, "I''m pregnant with the Emperor''s child!"


    There was a long, long pause.

 Chapter 66 - Odd Reaction

    "What?"


    Yvonne licked her dry, stained lips. After all this time, she had somehow gathered the courage to speak up. It wasn''t an easy task to do, considering the fact that she was the first to convey such news.


    "I-I''m pregnant," she uttered again, faltering at the end.


    There was a long pause and time seemed to slow down to a crawl. Somewhere, a grandfather clock ticked away, the only reassurance that time was still running as usual for the world, save for the two people in the infirmary.


    Yvonne observed long and hard the expressions that passed Eldar''s face and smiled with a thought only she knew best.


    Eventually, Eldar sputtered. "I must be hearing things, for I am a greybeard after all. Could you perhaps repeat your words?"


    Yvonne laughed inwardly at the old man''s attempt to bypass her claim. She let her hands fall to her side before she spoke again with the clearest of intents:


    "I bear the Emperor''s child, Eldar."


    For a moment again, time came to a snail''s pace before Eldar slapped a frail hand on his ear and blinked a few times. Then his eyes went straight to the woman''s abdomen where they stayed for a minute before finding their words back up to her face. "A-Are you certain? May I check?"


    Yvonne put a defensive hand over her stomach and grimaced. "Do you not believe me? I am quite certain of the accuracy of my claim, Eldar."


    Eldar wiped his forehead. "Impossible...impossible, I sayˇ­ How can this be?" he mumbled to himself, forgetting for a moment that the lady was even there. "I''ve never heard of the word!"


    Yvonne stood there as she observed the old man working himself up into hysterics over the fact that she was pregnant. But why did it concern him so much...? She narrowed her eyes in thought, but then widened them when she finally reached a conclusion.


    "Ahem!!" Yvonne coughed to catch Eldar''s attention. "Why is it such an unearthly concept to wrap one''s head around?"


    Eldar stopped mumbling to himself and peeked at the lovely smiling lady, finally able to correct his composure once again.


    "Ah, yes," he said, embarrassed, "my lady. Forgive me for my momentary distraction. It''s just that you are the very first. The Emperor must cherish you very much."


    Yvonne smiled at the thought. Inside, she didn''t feel like smiling so much, as she knew where this conversation was leading to.


    "H-How were you able to diagnose yourself?"


    Ah, yes, Yvonne thought, as she stared at the old man. That was the last proof she needed to be sure that the head physician didn''t consider her truthful at all.


    Yvonne tapped a finger on her chin, seeming to remember something. "I''m quite educated in the matter," she said with ease. "I''ve studied countless books from the royal athenaeum back when I was in Clatoise. Lovely collection there, by the way. The libraries here are not so well-equipped, if you swallow the word."


    Eldar nodded as if he believed her, but the sweat drops on his forehead did not go unnoticed by Yvonne. "Yes, yes. And erm... if it isn''t much of an offence, may I ask if you kept an ''intimate'' relationship with King Irvin before your arrival in Wisteria?"


    Yvonne smirked. I see, she thought. The man doesn''t believe her even when she has placed forward several proofs. How unfortunate, she sighed. But oh joy, she had received the reaction she had hoped for.


    "No, Eldar," Yvonne said, trying to appear miserable. "The King and I never shared those kinds of moments, for he was much too reserved."


    "I see," Eldar muttered hoarsely. "Well, that''s really great news, then. Does His Majesty know of the news, yet?"


    Yvonne shook her head. "And I''d like to keep it that way, please. Till I''m ready to relay it to him myself."


    Eldar nodded, but he felt quite uneasy about it. "Of course. Would you like for me to give you some medicine for a healthy pregnancy?"


    Yvonne shook her head again as she turned to leave. "Not yet, thank you. Have a great day, Eldar." With that, she flicked away the large curtain and strode out the door where the familiar maid was no more.


    ?


    Reynard walked the streets as if they were his own.


    People walked by as they talked animatedly, carrying baskets full of freshly baked bread, or hand in hand with their unruly children. All the while unsuspecting of the criminal on the loose. Reynard smirked as he fiddled with the brooch in his pocket, his eyes browsing the numerous stalls that went past him in a blur.


    He was looking for one stall in particular. The one which glowed brighter than the rest. It was still noon but there was a tinge of a purple hue in the sky. He waited for that glint to pierce his eyes, the reflection from the gems.


    Ah, there it was. Reynard backed up and walked casually over to Mister Verel''s stall. He was busy with a customer for the while, so Reynard waited in line until the trade was finally finished.


    "Reynard, my lad!" Mister Verel beamed as he acknowledged the familiar man. "What brings you here today?" Then he gasped. "Wait, don''t tell me. Is it going to be the first time you buy one of my shiny stones?"


    Reynard laughed awkwardly as he scratched the back of his scalp.


    "Not today, Mister." Reynard chuckled. "Rather, I want you to inspect a trinket for your beloved lad. I hope that won''t be a waste of time."


    Mister Verel grumbled like usual, his one front teeth clacking against his gums. "You''ve got some guts, boy. Alright, I''ll do it just because I expect you to purchase something in the near future. I hope that''s the case. But do let me warn you, this ''trinket'' better be something worth my time."


    Reynard raised his eyebrows. He knew that the old man was going to flip after he saw what he had for him, considering that this was something that came straight from the royal family. Reynard played with the edges of the brooch in his pockets, debating if he should reveal it now or tease him first.


    "Alright, alright. I''ve got something one of a kind right here," Reynard teased as he pointed towards his pocket. Mister Verel leaned forward on his ottoman and squinted in anticipation. "You mustn''t tell anyone about this," he continued as he looked both ways. "It''s confidential."


    Mister Verel spat in a spittoon and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "Hurry up, lad, it''s getting dark." And so it was. The sky had turned a lovely lavender as dusk was overhead.


    Reynard turned to look back at Mister Verel and noticed that by an action he had somehow missed, the lanterns were already glowing. So were all the other stalls''. Reynard reached into his pocket and slid out the white lily brooch and even a glimpse of it made Mister Verel''s eyes shine bright.


    "Give it here, give it here, boy," Mister Verel said eagerly, his hands outstretched and his eyes on the ivory object. "Put it in my palm, now. And be gentle with that!"


    Carefully, Reynard placed the brooch- pin first- in the hollow of Mister Verel''s palm and stepped back uneasily. He didn''t know what was going through the mind of old Mister Verel right now, but that crazy gleam in his eyes gave most of it away.


    "Ah, yesss..." Mister Verel stretched his words as he put the brooch right up close to this face. "This is moonstone right here. Lovely, so lovely."


    "Is it very expensive?" Reynard asked as he pivoted back a bit on his heels.


    Mister Verel nodded with his eyes wide. "Rare, too, yes. Wherever did you get your hands on such a finely crafted brooch?"


    Reynard wringed his hands behind his back. Undeniably, he was nervous.


    "Oh, it''s an heirloom belonging to my mother," he lied, keeping a poker face. "I just came to ask some questions about its genuineness. So how old do you reckon this might be?"


    Mister Verel inspected it once again. "It seems in a great condition for a mere heirloom," he said as he scratched his cheek, leaving behind red imprints. "Mm...does your mother know who it originally belonged to? A great-great-great-great-great-great grandmother? Or are there more ''greats'' to add to that?"


    To be safe, Reynard replied with, "More ''greats'', Mister."


    Mister Verel nodded in thought. "This design isn''t in the market these days, but with that weld work I see at the pin, I say it''s a few hundred years old. 4 or 5, maybe."


    "No way..." Reynard muttered, half to himself. "No way can it be that old. Are you sure?"


    Mister Verel nodded. "Perfectly, my lad. You''re reckoning with an expert here, and I''m your best bet, so you better believe my word."


    Reynard nodded, irritated. "Yeah, alright." He tried to remember the other question the princess had told him about, but he couldn''t quite recall it. What was it again... ah! If Mister Verel recognized it or something like that.


    Reynard coughed to regain the jeweler''s attention who was feeling the brooch with his fingers. "What?" Mister Verel said, annoyed.


    Reynard asked, "Do you recognize this brooch from anywhere? You know, is it connected to something famous, perhapsˇ­?"


    "Oh, of course," he replied, half confused at Reynard''s question. "It''s a bit of a forgotten fact now, but this here is the great Priestess Grisha''s crest, my boy. The White Lily of Absolute Purity.  Feast your eyes upon this craft, child."


    Reynard''s whole perspective had changed by just those few words. Crest? Of the Great Priestess? How was that even possible?


    "How did you get it, I ask again, my lad," Mister Verel uttered suspiciously. "Surely, this can''t be an heirloom belonging to your family. There were only two of these brooches in existence, with one belonging to the Royal family. The other was passed down to the Great Priestess''s direct lineage, according to what I''ve heard. How did you get this? How!?"

 Chapter 67 - Suspicions

    It was as if someone had stuck a cue in Reynard''s bum.


    "Tell me, lad," Mister Verel muttered as he instantly lowered his voice and leaned in. "Did you steal this?"


    Reynard''s eyes hovered over the brooch, and he gulped. What to do? What to do? What to do? What to do? What to do? Reynard gulped again and the insides of his dry mouth.


    "So?" Mister Verel probed. "Did you?"


    "No," he replied, trying to remain level-headed. The crack in his voice did not go unnoticed by either of them. "Can I get it back now? My mother must be awaiting my return."


    Mister Verel stared suspiciously at Reynard as he turned the white brooch around in his hand. There was absolutely no way he''s telling the truth, he thought to himself. He''d be na?ve if he believed this baseless claim. Mister Verel looked down at the flower in his palm and scowled. If he kept it, he would be considered a thief upon its discovery by others. Yes, yes, it''d be best to feign ignorance for the while and return it to the lad.


    "Alright, alright, hold your horses, boy," Mister Verel muttered as he leaned forward and dropped the brooch in Reynard''s eager palm. "Now don''t go getting in trouble, do you hear me? I don''t care where you got it from, but be wise while you still have time."


    Reynard clutched the accessory and put it deep into his pocket, a wave of relief washing over him. He had been having thoughts about snatching it and running away, but that would make him seem like a criminal, which he wanted to avoid at all costs.


    "Yes, of course," he cried as he tipped Mister Verel some coins for his aid. "See you soon, then." With that, he turned on his heels and walked off as fast as his legs would allow him, all the while not seeming suspicious. When he was a safe distance away from the jeweler''s stall, he crouched and sighed a long, deep sigh.


    "Good god, that was a close call," he whispered to himself and felt the brooch in his pocket just to be safe. "That princess owes me. Big time."


    ?


    [Back at what once was Ogden Cove]


    "Y-Your Highness, may Iˇ­ May I come in?"


    I wiped sweat off my forehead with the back of my arm and looked at the door. The smoke around the room made my vision quite limited, and the loud flickering fire that crackled behind my back made me unsure of who had spoken.


    "Yes, come on in."


    It was Sven. He opened the door very slowly and peaked in uncertainly. Ever since he had found out about my secret, he had become rather distant from me. Formal, in speech and action. Even though I told him countless times to call me Ashli (just to be safe), he would always go back to calling me ''Your Highness'', or ''Princess''.


    Sven opened the door further and walked in, looking around the kitchen with curiosity.


    "I''ve told you so many times that calling me ''Your Highness'' is unnecessary," I muttered as I rolled out dough. "And it''s not even my room you''re asking permission to enter in! We''re in the kitchen, for goodness'' sake. And open the windows, please? I can''t figure out the latch."


    He jumped to it while I stretched out the dough over the counter. Mama was out today. Before leaving, she had told me to make something for dinner if I can manage, or if all fails, send Sven out to buy some goods. I had found some flour and yeast in one of the cabinets overhead and I decided...why not make some pizza? It''d been a while since I had pizza.


    I rolled the dough into a circular formation and slid it onto a large metal plate that was resting between the space of the counter and the wall. I had washed it, of course, and greased it a bit to avoid it sticking to the dough.


    "What are you making?" Sven asked as he leaned back after he had pulled open the windows. All the smoke drifted outside while I finally breathed a clean sigh.


    "You might have not heard of it," I mumbled as I topped the dough with some sauce I had made up of tomatoes. It was the first time I had done that, so I had no idea what I was doing. I sprinkled on some salt (because why not), and decorated it with different vegetables which we had in store.


    "Do we have cheese?" I asked no one in particular.


    Sven nodded as he opened a cabinet far off near the wall. "I think soˇ­?" He pulled out a black chunk of something and started peeling the blackness away from it. It was actually some kind of wrapping paper under which was slightly grey, but pale yellow cheese.


    "How old is this?" I asked as I took it from him and sniffed it.


    Sven shrugged. "I have no idea. Probably about a month."


    I furrowed my eyebrows. Well, since it smelled fine, I started shredding it with a razor-sharp knife and then spread the cheese shreds on the pizza dough. Since there was no deep-bake oven, I folded the pizza dough over the other half into a semi-circle. Now I would be able to flip it and cook it from each side over the stove.


    I covered the metal plate with a cover and then put the whole thing with Sven''s help over the stove.


    "Easy there," I mumbled as I got closer to the heat and stood back when the pizza was on its spot. "Finallyˇ­ Now let''s get out of here."


    So we did. Once outside, I fanned my face and patted at my sweaty neck with a flannel. I didn''t even notice that Sven was staring at me.


    "What?" I asked self-consciously as I patted dry my face, looking at him from the corner of my eyes.


    He shook his head as he turned red. "How come a princess knows how to cook?"


    I scoffed. Why do people assume royalty can''t do nothing? I always did every other household chore when my siblings and I moved to Incheon. And the sense of accomplishment I got after seeing the house clean, it was unmatched.


    "I''m not your usual princess," I said with a smile as I put the flannel in the pocket of my pants. Sven had lended me some clothes after he had realized I''m a princess and princesses should never be filthy. So today, I donned a long white tunic hanging lower than my knees like a dress, clenched at the waist with a black leather belt. The tunic had pockets on both sides so it felt easy to store things in it.


    "Let''s go back and flip the plate," I said as I pointed towards the kitchen. "Or else the food will burn."


    Carefully, we went inside again and did what we had to. Soon, we both sat on the little crates with each a pizza sandwich in hand.


    "I haven''t eaten anything like this before," Sven mumbled through a mouthful of cheesy goodness. "What did you call it again? Pitta?"


    "Pizza," I corrected as I popped a chopped tomato in my mouth. "Good, isn''t it?"


    He nodded as he chewed in awe. Finally, I sighed, I was doing something right. But now as I ate in silence, the sound of crickets buzzing outside, I wondered where Mama had gone. And why had Reynard not returned yet? It was all a bit mind boggling.


    I sat in silence as I thought about what to do next with my life. I can''t remain hiding and free-loading off of Mama Ruth forever. She had been much too generous as it is. Imposing any more trouble on her would be a bit too much, even for me. And there was the mystery surrounding her brooch as well. How can it be that it was exactly identical to mine? A coincidence? I think not. There has to be a reason.


    As I peeked over at Sven (who was picking at his pizza), something dawned to me. I still didn''t trust him. Not completely. I had no idea if he was gonna report me in the coming future. What if all our efforts go to vain just because of this little, accidental slip? I can''t let that happen. I needed to do something. Soon.

 Chapter 68 - *By The Candlelight

    I half remember my past self now. Now that I think about it, I''ve come a long, long way.


    I used to be depressed all the time, overworked, exhaustedˇ­ At school I barely paid any attention to the long, grey lectures.


    Now? Now it''s different.


    I''ve become more full of vigor. Adventurous, even. At first I had thought of this whole isekai business as a punishment of some sort. Why did I have to be transmigrated in the first place? There are millions of people in the world, most of them yearning for some fantastical stuff like such to happen to them; God could have picked any one of them. So why did I get stuck with such misfortune when I had already suffered so much?


    But I get it now. Or at least I think so.


    As I gobbled up the last crumbs of my dinner, I stared at the white plate in which my reflection looked back at me. No matter how much I looked at myself, I''d never be able to get used to the eye-blessing sight. How could one not faint at such beauty? Instinctively, I touched my skin with a gentle finger and sighed because this wasn''t truly me.  I was just a poor orphan girl from Incheon. No matter how much my soul seeps into this world of fiction, I mustn''t let go of my roots. I kept telling myself that over and over again, not really aware of the stronghold this world already had on me.


    As I pondered over the ills that may have befallen me, I never once noticed Sven''s staring.


    "Tell me about her," he muttered quietly, too quiet and sudden for me to hear.


    "What?" I asked suddenly, breaking free from the trance of my thoughts.


    He looked into my eyes with determination, and his jaw hardened. "About her. Emery. Tell me about her."


    My shoulder slumped as I sat there on the crate, a candle before us on the table the only source of illumination in the vast darkness. I played our memories in my mind, picking and choosing my words before saying something.


    "She was a friend." It took me immense strength to utter something out eventually. The whole while my eyes were on the hems of my dress. I feared that if I lifted my gaze and talked face-to-face to a man who was the very picture of Emery herself, I wouldn''t be able to keep in this swelling grief that grew by the day. "Her silver hair gave her this angelic aura, making her stand out from the rest. I''d never seen anyone like her before." But then again, I had never seen anyone like anybody I had come across in this world before. I couldn''t tell him that, though.


    I risked a peek at Sven and saw him staring intently on the flickering flame that danced upon the candle wick.


    "A-And," I continued as I looked back down, "she was kind. Christabel- Lady Virak- told me that she saved a pregnant maid from the fire that ill day, giving in to death in her stead. That''s how she died. I''m so very sorry."


    From the corners of my eyes, I saw Sven clench his fist, but he didn''t say anything. I heard a pitter-patter on the window and I turned my head to look at what it was. Surprisingly, it was raining. My first rain in Wisteria. I looked back at Sven and realized he had never unclenched his fist.  I decided that carrying on would be the best for everyone.


    "She had a dream." At these words, Sven perked up a little. "She told me all about it. Her dream was to perform at the theater, to be a renowned dancer. I remember her telling me ever so happily, how this dream of hers took shape the very day she learned her first few steps at the town circus. I was so happy for her."


    I felt tears forming on my lower lids, and I fanned myself to keep them away. This was getting hard.


    "What did she look like?" he said after what seemed like an eternity. "Tell me, so I could at least visualize her in my mind, since I''d never be able to see her in person."


    I nodded. "She had long silver hair like yours, though she always wore it in a low bun at the back of her neck. Palace rules, I reckon."


    He nodded as he stared into the candle.


    "Her skin was fair, very much like yours. She had hazel eyes and a small mole under her one eye. With sweet pink lips and a heart shaped face, she looked just like a doll. Here, bring me a paper and a pencil, I''ll draw her for you."


    Tripping over his own foot in the process, Sven hastily stood up and took two stairs at a time as he zoomed upstairs, coming back soon with a piece of parchment and a stick in his hand.


    I took it from him, confused. But then I noticed a piece of charcoal tied to the end of the stick in an attempt to create a pencil. What had I expected, a modern day mechanical pencil? Carefully, I took the folded piece of paper and flipped it open so I could start drawing. I was never known as the artist girl in my class, but it wouldn''t hurt to try. It took me a while to get her features right. The whole while Sven peered at the paper over my shoulder, studying each and every one of my strokes. ILLUSTRATION:


    "I think I''m done." I held my sketch at a distance and the candle''s glow lit it from the back. "Here, take a look."


    Tenderly, Sven took the drawing from my hand and studied it. It felt like a long time. There were no movements, no sounds... even the crickets had stopped chirping.


    "May I keep it?"


    I had almost dozed off, so I jerked awake at Sven''s words. "W-What?"


    "May I keep it?" he asked again, staring into my eyes.


    I raised my eyebrows, a bit surprised at this request. "Yes...yes! Of course."


    He nodded gratefully and stared at it a for few more moments before putting the sketch in his pocket. "Thank you. I''ll be up in my room, then, since dinner''s over. Call me if you feel like it." He had suddenly turned distant again, and I could tell he wanted to add ''Your Highness'' at the end. I commend him for his restraint.


    With that, he stood up once again and left me alone without a second glance back. I bit my lips as I stared at the dancing flame, knowing very well that he was probably crying again. Somehow, I had barely managed to keep in my tears myself.


    Just when I was about to pick the plates and take them back to the kitchen, there was a knock on the door. I put the plates back on the small table and went to the door and opened it just an inch. Instantly, the roaring of the wind flooded the inn and I struggled to see who stood before me.


    "Let me in?" said someone.


    That''s when I realized that Reynard had finally returned.


    "Goodness..." I let him in, backing away as he dripped water all over the wooden floor. "You came all the way here in the rain?"


    He was wearing his cloak now, the one he always wore when visiting me at the palace. His hood hung at the back of his neck and his hair was matted to his forehead. My eyes travelled down to his clothes which dripped water all over his shoes. He raked a shaky hand through his hair and shook out the water just like a dog.


    "No," he mumbled as he took off his cloak and hung it on a hook by the door. "It started raining when I was halfway here. It''s been a while since it rained. I''m sure the farmers are rejoicing todayˇ­. Or not."


    "Why not?" I asked as I led him to the candle-lit table. "What''s happened?"


    He grimaced as he met my face. I searched his expression for clues as to what he was talking about, but found none. Had something terrible happened?


    "Today is the princess''s funeral. The whole town is gathered around the Engil Cemetery where the ceremony is being carried out. The Emperor himself is present. Is Mama home?" I shook my head. "Yeah, she''s probably keeping up attendance. I only found out about it from a talkative couple at the market."


    I pursed my lips. What should I even say? That I felt sad? That I was grieved? Because I was not. I felt relieved that things were finally coming to a close. Soon, everybody would forget about the princess and the prophecy and the blessing and will hopefully go about their own lives, and I''d be able to live my own, for once not paranoid about a guard pointing me out. But still, Reynard looked troubled.


    "Um, are you alright?" I asked. He nodded as he wrung his hands once. Twice. Thrice. "So what did Mister Verel say?"


    At this, Reynard visibly flinched. I raised my eyebrows, because I was not expecting that. What, had something gone wrong? Oh crap, now that I think about it, giving him something so valuable would definitely have sparked some questions from that keen jeweler. Oh gosh, what a mistake I''ve made! I looked nervously at Reynard, waiting for him to chastise me.


    "If you''re wondering whether he grew suspicious of me because of that brooch, you''re right," he said bitterly, shooting me a dirty look.


    I recoiled in guilt but then pondered upon it some more. No use crying over spilt milk. I buckled up and sat straighter, looking straight into Reynard''s weary sea-blue eyes.


    "So what did he say, then?"


    Reynard sighed and wrung out a wet corner of his shirt. I sweeped an eye over him. He was wearing casual trousers and a black shirt. He hadn''t been wearing that when he came by this morning.


    "Did you go get a change of clothes? How''s your mom doing?" I asked worriedly. At this, he flinched and his face got covered with a dark shadow as he turned it away from the candlelight. "Is she worse?" I whispered.


    He nodded. "If you don''t mind, I''d like to give her your hair as soon as possible. We''re still not sure if her disease could be cured that way, though. What if it only heals bruises? And if it does do the job, I was wondering if we should start helping other people, too. It could save so many lives..."


    "No, we can''t do that. If your mom recovers, which I''m sure she will," I added quickly, "we must keep the hair a secret. Always. Even if your mother asks about what medicine cured her, you keep silent. Believe me, I''d love to help as many people with this blessing as much as you want me to. I mean, we could cure all diseases. But I also don''t want to become some sort of lab rat. I don''t want people to deprive me of my freedom just because I suddenly got healing powers. Do you understand what I mean? Once people find out this girl can do it all, I''ll never see the light of the day ever again. I think that''s what Yvonne meant when she said that I won''t have any freedom after my powers awaken."


    "Yvonne?" Reynard tilted his head, "Ahh, you mean that redhead. Who even was she?"


    I smiled as I thought about her. "A lady. A friend.. A helper."

 Chapter 69 - No Effing Way

    [Next day at the Royal Palace]


    "So how are we doing, ladies?"


    Everyone turned to look at Yesenia who had just walked through the door. She just looked like the rest of them- weary and sad. Even the way she dressed today was different. Same for the rest of them. Dressed in all black, Christabel sat propped up next to Lorelei on one of the soft sofas, wearing similar expressions of grief. On one of the matching chaise lounges lay Odette, a book in her hand. The title read: ''Tapped for Sorrow''


    Yesenia frowned as she walked by her, her black dress flailing past.


    "Where are Lady Atraxil and Lady Obsilia?" she asked Lorelei as she sat down on the sofa opposite them. Instantly, she was served a piping hot cup of tea, just the way she liked it. But today, she looked upon it with distaste. In fact, nobody was sipping tea today, not at all.


    "Take it away, Ida," Yesenia called her maid back. "I''d rather not. Not today."


    Christabel and Lorelei pursed their lips. Yesenia never skipped tea, rather, she was particularly strict about it. Seeing this never-seen-before sight made them more cautious of their situation.


    "Are we alright, ladies?" Yesenia asked softly once again. She knew since last night was the princess''s funeral ceremony, all of them must be down. Her only motivation was to get things back on track. "Don''t ponder upon it, now, girls. We must be strong and provide emotional support to His Majesty at times like these. Remember, she was his daughter before she was a companion to us. Don''t be, now. I know how close you were to the princess, Christa dear." It was rare for Yesenia to call Christabel so fondly. If things had come to this, they all knew that the situation was dire.


    "She''s not talking," Lorelei said quietly as she traced the pattern of the sofa with her finger.


    Yesenia frowned. "Why not?"


    Lorelei shrugged as she kept her gaze low. Yesenia noticed that she hadn''t applied any make-up today. As an artistic soul, Lorelei always loved to make her face elaborately and present herself in the loveliest way possible. The Emperor had first noticed Lorelei Rovan, the daughter of a foreign envoy when both the father and daughter had come to visit the palace on behalf of their king, once. She was surely an eye-catcher, with her long blond hair and her bright pink eyes- the very picture of an angel.


    The Emperor had proposed to marry her back then, and she had to take the proposal, for she had no choice. If not to strengthen foreign relations and secure their Kingdom''s position, she would have gladly called quits.


    Yesenia smiled sadly at the poor girl, who''s one dream was to be an artist and run an art gallery of her own. Alas, some dreams have to be left behind for the big picture. It''s a shame, really. Yesenia shook her head at that.


    "Christabel, dear, won''t you talk now?"


    Yesenia had asked so sweetly that Christabel almost lifted her head from her knees. It was a most unladylike way to sit, with your legs up on the sofa, but nobody seems to mind at the moment. And it certainly wasn''t the time for lectures.


    Christabel shook her head, and a faint sob was heard as her head started bobbing up and down into her knees. Lorelei put an arm around her shoulder in an attempt to soothe her, but her sobs wouldn''t stop. She was in the most frail state here, perhaps.


    "Hey, now, Christa," Lorelei muttered calmly as she rubbed her hand on her shoulder. "It''s fine now. Stop crying, please, or I shall start as well."


    Tears threatened to fall from Lorelei''s eyelids, but she managed to keep them in and she took long breaths and dabbed at her eyes.


    "Should we leave her alone for a while?" Yesenia mumbled to Lorelei, a worried look on her face. "She needs time to gather her thoughts and move on."


    Lorelei shook her head. "We can''t leave her alone in such miserable times. She needs support. How else will she be able to move on?"


    It was a petty squabble, but Lorelei won. Yesenia sighed and mumbled something to herself, then she left with the excuse that she needed to check on some things. Lorelei watched her go and then slumped down in her seat.


    "Christabel," she said, her eyes on the large painting on the wall opposite them. "Please stop crying. Why won''t you talk to me?"


    By her side, Christabel''s back bobbed up and down as she tried to control her sorrows and all of a sudden, she gave a huge, heavy sigh. Her body stopped trembling and she clasped her hands together around her knees.


    "Good girl," Lorelei whispered as she patted her head and smiled. "Good girl..."


    ?


    [Continuing from Chapter 68]


    "So what did Mister Verel say?" I asked again, for he hadn''t told me yet.


    Reynard fidgeted with his hands and looked at the floor. "Umˇ­ I don''t know how to say this."


    I raised an eyebrow in confusion. What was he trying to say? Had Mister Verel said something so awful about my brooch? Was it fake? I squeezed Reynard''s arm in anticipation.


    "Tell me."


    He took a deep breath before looking straight into my eyes. "So it''s made of moonstone, according to what he told me. Rare, yes. Pretty costly."


    I nodded to hurry things on.


    "And you told me to ask how old it is. He estimated it to be several hundred years old, probably 4 or 5. He was quite shocked by its quality. How could an heirloom so old be pristine and undamaged?"


    I bit the inside of my lip as he pulled out the brooch from his pocket and presented it to me. I took it with tender hands and studied it as if I was looking at it for the very first time. It was beautiful, no doubt. With smooth edges on the petals and a white sheen, it looked quite real. Too real.


    "What else did he say? Did he recognize the brooch?" I asked, looking back up. I was surprised to see Reynard furrowing his eyebrows.


    "Well, he did say something. It''s supposed to represent Priestess Grisha''s crest. Now, isn''t that interesting." He chuckled.


    "Huh?" If what he was telling me was the truthˇ­ Was it the truth? How could this tiny flower date back to the Priestess''s era?


    He nodded at my bewilderment. "And guess what. There are only two of these in existence, with one of them belonging to the Royal family. I''m guessing you have that one."


    I was shaken. "W-Who does the other one belong to?" Please let it be something mediocre, please, please, please god!


    Reynard scratched the back of his hand. "Oh, y''know. It belongs to the direct family of the priestess. Probably some present day descendant of Her Holiness." When I didn''t respond, Reynard tapped the table once. "You alright?"


    No, I was not alright. In fact, I couldn''t be worse. I gathered the hair at my forehead and pushed them back over my head. Pulling my hand back, I bit my thumb. I bit it again and again, bit it till I started tasting blood.


    "Hey!" Reynard slapped my hand away from my mouth and took a hold of it. "Stop hurting yourself. You''ve ripped the skin, look. Does it hurt?"


    In truth, I didn''t feel anything at the moment. Not with all these thoughts running through my mind. If what Reynard had told me was true, then was it possibleˇ­? No, no, it can''t be. Now way. I can''t believe it. Reynard must''ve noticed the expression on my face because his eyes widened, mirroring my own.


    "What?" he whispered.


    My breath quickened as I realized the possibility. Then slowly, I pulled something out of my pocket and held it between us. Reynard gave it one look and an expression of horror passed his face.


    "No wayˇ­ No wayˇ­ Where did you get this?"


    I gulped as I stared at Mama Ruth''s brooch, pinched between my fingers.


    "It''s not mine," I whispered, my voice barely audible. "It belongs to her."


    He furrowed his eyebrows. "To whom?"


    I lifted my gaze and met his. Both of us had looks of horror in our eyes.


    "Mama Ruth."


    That''s when all the puzzle pieces fit together. I think Reynard realized what I did, too, because his eyes widened to the point they couldn''t anymore.


    "No f**king way," he whispered.


    I gasped.

 Chapter 70 - The Truth

    Mama Ruth.


    Who was she? Was she just an old innkeeper?


    "Wait here," I told Reynard hastily and then dashed up the stairs to my room. I threw open the door and pulled out the large, red ACCOUNTS book from my side drawer. I took it downstairs back to the small table and took my place on the crate.


    "Mama''s diary," I breathed when Reynard looked at the book, confused.


    "That''s Mama''s diary?" he hissed as he pointed to it. "Where did you get it? How old is it?" He tried to snatch it from me but I slapped his hand away.


    "Shh! I got it from the attic," I mumbled as I opened it and started flipping the pages. "Let''s seeˇ­ There''s a specific entry I''m looking for."


    It was dark so I couldn''t read very well. I pulled the candle holder closer to me and peered at the pages dowsed by an orange glow.


    "Okay, here we go," I said and started reading:


    ????????


    The 27th of Taerel,


    ''Tis the day of the Priestess''s birth. The whole town is preparing for the celebrations.


    Elric helped me buy goods for today''s special meal. I usually serve porridge and bread, but today I reckoned it''d be good for the inn''s stature if I served duck. Lissy made quite the fuss when I didn''t take her along, but she''ll know it''s for the best when she grows up to become a fine young woman.


    Erratically, I wore the brooch today, the one my mother gave me right before she died. It''s a bit old and chipped, but the white on it still glows beautifully in the sun. I knew nobody would recognize it to be the priestess''s crest any longer, or I would have been in some trouble. It matched fashionably with the lime green dress Elric gifted me last week.  There''ll be a ceremony later tonight, so I must put it back in the closet for the night.


    Johanne paid a visit today, too, and she brought with her little Amice and some apples. I''ll bake some apple pie later. Amice has grown to become such an angel, and might I add that her rosy cheeks and lovely black hair that she inherited from her mother makes her quite the looker.


    Lucan sent a letter, relaying that he''s back in the Lands of Sovia, living with a new girl. Honestly? Good for him. He sent me a small portrait of her along with the letter, probably to rile me up. She''s not even that good looking, and her dimples look rather childish. Of course, I''m not jealous. Not when I have dearest Elric by my side.


    .


    .


    .


    Goodness! I just came back from the ceremony and I''m so, so tired!


    The guests have turned in for the night, and I''m so thankful for that since I didn''t want to prepare another meal. The whole ceremony was unnecessary, though.


    We all prayed at the House of God and after that, there was a big buffet. Honestly, I could''ve made it better because the spices were all so off. I was glad that Lissy enjoyed it though. She had the most fun frolicking around with young Amice.


    The only part I was displeased with was when they performed the sacrifice. Although it was just a camel, I couldn''t stand the sight of blood. Many kids, including Lissy, started crying at the sight and it was awful.


    Why do they even do it anymore? I know grandma wouldn''t have liked it. To think that the future princess in great grandma''s prophecy would serve the same fate. It just pains me to think so. The people think what they know is the truth, although I might be the only one knowing the actual truth. Even if I said anything, no one would believe me. This brooch is the only proof I have, and I must protect it forever.


    ????????


    We both sat back in bewilderment.


    "There''s no way it is what I think it is," Reynard broke the silence after what seemed like an hour. "There''s no way."


    I gulped. "Reynard, how can this be forged? Even by the looks of it, this diary is probably several decades old."


    Reynard bit his lip as he gently pulled the diary out of my grasp and flipped through the pages, stopping occasionally at one to read briefly. I let him read in peace. He needed the confirmation, and he needed to reach the same conclusion as mine.


    Mama Ruth was the Great Priestess''s direct descendent.


    There''s written proof! And the brooch!


    I picked up the brooch from the table and studied it once more. It held so much power which I hadn''t noticed before. So it really was proof of the priestess''s direct lineage. And more than that, it was her crest! A family crest.


    Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Reynard grin.


    "What?" I asked as I leaned forward to read what had made him smile like that. He was holding the first page of the diary open. The page which read:


    "Ruthven?" I exclaimed, smiling at the book. "Huge discovery."


    Reynard nodded as he shut the book, a grin on his face. "The most important."


    I sighed. "What now?" I asked, helplessness washing over my eyes. "Mama will be back any moment now. How am I supposed to face her again?"


    Reynard scratched his jaw. "Good question. Very good. I don''t know myself, though."


    I put my head down on the table and groaned into it. "Why does life have to be this way? Mama can actually save me from all this, you know? Here, she writes that what the people think is the truth actually isn''t. I''m sure it''s about the prophecy, which means that the prophecy people know is actually false! We need to spread the word, Reynard, we must-"


    "Now, hold on, Your Highness," Reynard cut in, flicking a finger at me. "Hold your horses. There''s no way it matters anymore. You''re dead, remember? Even if people do realize the prophecy is fake, whatever can they do now? Save the princess? I think not."


    My shoulders slumped down. He was right, of course. He usually was. I massaged my temples as I looked at the candle, focusing my ears on the distant sound of crickets.


    "Sh*t," I mumbled softly. Reynard gave me an alarmed stare, at which I scowled and looked away. If only I could prove the prophecy''s untruthfulness, I''d be free. But then again, as Reynard said, how would I explain my disappearance and the letter claiming my death? I''d be marked for treason, I''m sure of it. And then what? Straight to the guillotine.


    I groaned once more, almost not hearing the little bumping sound coming from Mama Ruth''s room.


    "What was that?" I asked suddenly, lifting my head like an alarmed meerkat.


    Reynard was all ears, too. He frowned and then looked into the darkness. We heard another bump and both of us jumped in our seats.


    "Are you sure Mama Ruth isn''t home?" Reynard asked as he slowly stood up.


    I nodded, my eyes at the faint shape of the door. "I''m sure I saw her leave. What if it''s a ghost?"


    There was another bumping sound, and Reynard jumped in his spot. Despite our situation, I almost laughed out loud. "Nonsense! There''s no such thing."


    "Go on then," I gave him a little push, "open the door. I''m right behind you."


    Reynard took a deep breath as he advanced towards the door and jerked back just as he turned the knob. We both waited in anticipation as the door creaked open an inch, and then something small scurried out from the bottom.


    "F**CK! It''s Whiskers!" I screeched as I dashed to stand on the low table. Reynard did the same, for he seemed just as scared as I was. "I forgot Whiskers!"


    Reynard looked at me helplessly, sweat over his forehead. "What!? How could you--" His voice faltered as the large rat scurried all over the floor in blind darkness, knocking over a crate in the process. I could feel him right beneath the table and I was scared he''d jump on and chew my toes off, so I gave another shriek, holding onto Reynard for dear life.


    "Let go of me, you crazy!" Reynard cried as he struggled to separate himself from my neck-throttling grip. "You''re killing me! Oi!"


    Amidst all this shrieking, Sven must''ve heard and come downstairs.


    "What''s happening?" his soft voice was to be heard over the wails. "Wh-What''s going on?"


    Two grown people standing on the table and a rat scurrying blindly on the floor; the sight must have been confusing as hell. Somehow, Sven must''ve put 2 and 2 together because he softly trotted downstairs, picked Whiskers up, and closed Mama''s room''s door after putting him inside.


    "Um..." he mumbled awkwardly afterwards. "Okay, um, see ya''..." He didn''t draw it out longer and went upstairs, leaving Reynard and me standing on the table.


    Embarrassed, both of us got off and sat back down. A moment later we were both laughing.


    "What the hell," he exclaimed as he wiped a tear off. "We shouldn''t be laughing."


    I took a shaky breath as I controlled myself. "Yes, yes, of course not, good sir. Not, considering our situation."


    He gave a low chuckle before going silent. Then he reached into a drawstring bag tied to the side of his belt and pulled out some fabric.


    "Here," he said, giving it to me. "I managed to retrieve some of your clothes from Aunty''s house. She''s dead worried about you."


    My laugh''s died out as reality dawned upon me. "Oh yeahˇ­ How''s she doing these days? She didn''t snitch on me to the guards, did she? I hope not."


    Reynard shook his head as he pulled shut his drawstring bag. "No, I don''t think so. She''s just worried about your safety. But Cael''s a whole ''nother problem."


    I frowned. Cael? I had almost forgotten about him. "What''s he done?"


    Reynard shook his head and raked a hand through his black hair. "Much to my surprise, he seems to know everything. About you being a princess, I mean. And that we aren''t actually together."


    I bit my uninjured thumb in deep thought. "That''s some smart kid."


    "Yeah," Reynard laughed. "But he promised not to spill a word as long as I bought him two wooden horses."


    I gasped. "That little rat. But then again, some kids are hard to persuade. It''s good that he settled for something materialistic." What would we have done if he had asked for something impossible?


    "Alright then," Reynard said as he stood up, pushing the crate back. "I''ll be off. Mother must be missing me, more so since Rosa won''t be home for the night."


    I tilted my head, standing up after him. "Why not?"


    Reynard shrugged. "Business stuff. Goodbye, then. Tell Mama I came by." He pulled his cloak off the hook. "Oh, and hide that diary very safely." He pointed to something behind me and I looked to see the red book sitting on the table. Before I could turn back to face him, he was off into the night. After noticing that the rain had slowed to a trickle, I carefully closed the door.. and went upstairs to bed.

 Chapter 71 - Lets Talk

    [The Emperor''s Study]


    "Yesenia," the Emperor said as he read something off of a book. "Come for your report?"


    Yesenia Chamillet, eldest consort of His Majesty, stood before his desk with a grim expression on her face. She donned a plain black dress in mourning of the princess, much like most of the other residents of Wisteria.


    The whole Empire was in a state of mourning. Everyone had pulled out their blackest garments from their wardrobes with heavy hearts, matching others in appearance and spirit. Markets had been closed down for the meanwhile, and everyone had shut the windows to their houses. The streets had become deserted and an atmosphere of sorrow had set low over the entirety of the Empire.


    Yesenia''s keen, watchful eyes swept over the Emperor''s majestic robes, brighter than even the decor of his study. The red curtains behind him turned dull to his comparison and the golden tassels that hung below shone not brighter than the Emperor''s aura.


    "Yes, Your Majesty," Yesenia said crisply as her eyes returned to the Emperor''s face. "It''s a most dire situation. Lady Virak has stopped speaking altogether."


    The Emperor put his book down and raised his eyebrows. His youngest consort, the one who talked the most, to the point it annoyed him to high heavens... had stopped talking? How very strange.


    "What has come over the silly girl?" he muttered as he interlaced his fingers, his elbows on his desk. "Is it grief?"


    Yesenia wrung her fingers as she stared at the patterned carpet below her feet. "I know not, Your Majesty. She was quite close with the princess before she... ermˇ­ passed away."


    The Emperor nodded, not quite perturbed by the news. "Fine. If she doesn''t start speaking in a day or two, send her to the infirmary. And if she starts displaying any and all sorts of disturbing scenery of laments, report to me straight away. Do you understand?"


    Yesenia nodded. "Of course, Your Royal Majesty. As for other news, Lady Obsilia has been discovered developing a tolerance to a certain kind of poison."


    "Oh?" The Emperor leaned back in his chair. Elora? The daughter of the famed duke? Building tolerance to poison? For whatever reason must she be doing that? "Which poison?"


    Yesenia shuffled uncomfortably in her spot. She didn''t like to tattle on the others, but if it meant securing her own positionˇ­ "Arsenic, it seems."


    "Mmm..." The Emperor was equally interested and confused. Why was his beloved mistress so afraid of arsenic; so afraid to the point she''s putting her life in danger just to grow immune of it? What a stupid woman. "I see how it is. Anything else to report?"


    Yesenia shook her head.


    "See yourself out, then, my dear," he said sweetly. Yesenia bowed and gracefully strode outside as the stationed guard opened the door.


    When she was gone, the Emperor asked one of his maids that almost merged with the background to call in Sir Gradral. As she curried away with his order, he laid back in his high, wing-backed chair and let him fall into his deep thoughts.


    Elora was poisoning herself deliberately? He never understood that weird woman, really. And the moment he let go of her sight, she''s get herself into all sorts of shenanigans. He really needed to keep her on a leash. The only thing keeping him from being severe with her was his relations with the grand duke. If only he could...


    A moment or two later, Sir Gradral knocked on the door, breaking the Emperor''s train of thought. Grungily, he was allowed entry in. Sir Gradral bowed before his Emperor and waited to hear the order to rise.


    "Rise, Gradral. Let''s get straight to the point," was the Emperor''s first sentence of choice. "How is Zyair?"


    Sir Gradral didn''t even flinch at the Emperor''s straight-forwardness. He used to, when he was first stationed by His Majesty''s side, but now he was quite used to it.


    "He''s alive and well, Your Majesty. Though he was slightly weak in the legs, so I had the letter dispatched to his son, Marcello Atraxil, over the border. Thankfully, it wasn''t that long a journey by horse. For as far as guesses go, the letter might make its way to King Irvin by a week at most."


    "Good." The Emperor nodded. "You didn''t read the letter, did you?"


    Behind his back, Sir Gradral clenched and unclenched his sweaty palms. Then he shook his head.


    "How could I dare, Your Majesty?"


    The Emperor nodded, closing his eyes. "I trust you, Gradral. Don''t deceive me."


    "Of course, Your Majesty."


    "Out of my study, now."


    Sir Gradral bowed and turned on his feet, not giving a second glance back as he walked outside. Once in the hall, he looked for a place to sit down, which he found on a lone sofa by one of the many walls. He flopped down and held his head for a few moments, gathering his thoughts before he could go on with his routine.


    How could he have said that he had actually read the letter? He would have been removed from his spot immediately.


    Sir Gradral was about to get up when a servant boy came running for him. "Sire! Sire, I''ve got a letter for you!"


    Sir Gradral stood up, confused. "A letter for me?" he asked as he took it from the servant boy''s hand and turned it around for an address. There was none.


    The servant boy nodded. "Yes, a tall black-haired man asked for it to be given directly to you. Don''t worry, since it went through inspection at the front. Have a good day, Sire." The boy walked his own path, leaving Sir Gradral alone with an unaddressed letter in his hand.


    He proceeded to lift the torn flap and pulled the folded piece of paper out. On it were written three simple words: ''Mother passed away.''


    ?


    [Back at what once was Ogden Cove]


    "Lassie, what''s this?"


    I was f**cked. I rarely ever swear, but this is a very called for situation. I can''t believe I was so careless! Reynard had even reminded me to keep the diary safe, but I had accidentally left it in the hall, right there on the table last night. And just as you guessed it, Mama found out the moment she returned last night.


    Which meant I was in big trouble, with a capital ''T''.


    Mama smacked her hand on the table, which landed right beside the thick red book.


    "I ask once more, eh? What. Is. This?" I mumbled an answer, my head hung. "Whaaaat?" she said, putting a hand to her ear. "I can''t hear your lousy excuse, princess."


    I can''t do this. Ahhh, I just want to disappear. She knows very well what it was, but she still insists on asking me.


    "It''s a book," I muttered after a while. Mama burst out laughing, but there was not an inch of humor in there.


    "A book, eh?" she said, her voice dripping with bitterness. "I wonder what it''s about. A story book, is it? Or a recipe listing, perhaps? Oh, what if it''s an address book, oh my."


    She was ridiculing me. I felt my face grow red with embarrassment as I beared her words, waiting for her to explode on me.


    "No, no, I''m sure you had your reasons for snooping around," she said, eyeing me over her specs. "Let''s hear it, then."


    I stood there, completely motionless, as I thought about what to say. Whatever was there to say? I had been caught because of my own negligence. I regret it all now. But! But if I hadn''t done some snooping, I wouldn''t have found out such a big secret.


    "Well, don''t turn on me now, Mama," I said as I stood straight and folded my arms. Mama frowned, clearly not following. "We all keep some secrets, don''t we? What do you have to say for yourself? Are you angry that I found out your secret?"


    Mama squinted, the wrinkles beside her eyes creasing into themselves. "What in hell''s name are you talking about?"


    "You can stop pretending, Mama," I sighed, "I''ve read it from your diary."


    She took off her spectacles and massaged her nose bridge. "What''s gotten into you? Have you gone a bit loony in the head?"


    I laughed. "Mama Ruth, why didn''t you tell me something so crucial!? Why didn''t you tell me that you were the last descendant of the priestess?"


    For a while, everything went silent. Oh. So. Silent. Then Mama started cleaning her specs with the hem of her shirt.


    "So that''s what this is about," she said as she put on her glasses. "Sven, dear," she called to the kitchen, and at once, Sven peered out. "Bring us some tea, will you? We''ll be in my room."


    I glanced nervously at Sven and he made a furtive expression as if to say, ''What''s happened?'' I shrugged and followed Mama Ruth inside her room, bracing myself for the worst lecture of my life.


    "Take a seat," Mama said as she pushed the ottoman towards me with her foot, sitting down on the armchair opposite.. "Let''s talk."

 Chapter 72 - Broken And Miserable

    I stirred a small cube of sugar in my tea and watched it disintegrate into nothingness.


    "So," Mama said as she smacked her lips after taking a sip of her own tea, "Spill, from the top."


    I kept stirring my tea, because it gave me something to do with my hands. "Before I begin, I want to say that I''m very sorry-"


    She tutted at me. "I don''t want to hear some sob story. Get straight to the point."


    I stopped stirring my tea. There was nothing to stir in anymore, after all. Slowly, I took a deep, much needed breath and looked Mama Ruth straight in the eye.


    "I found your diary in the attic one morning," I started eventually, not being able to bear the accusing look in her eye. "I was bored, so...so I started reading it, soon realizing it wasn''t an ordinary book. Honestly, I hadn''t even reached the part where you revealed your actual origin until last night."


    Mama took a long hard gulp of tea. "Last night? What happened last night?"


    I did a little shruggie. "Reynard came by while you were gone. We...um... He pointed it out, I think."


    "Oh?"


    "Yes." I just couldn''t meet her gaze. It was as if she knew I was lying. I took a small sip of the tea I had cooling in my hand. It was sweet, very sweet. I made a face of distaste which Mama didn''t seem to notice, since she started talking.


    "Well then, I haven''t much to hide. ''Tis true, the priestess is my great-great-great-something or the other- grandmother. And there''s a reason I need to hide that from the public, too." She made a face. "The priestess''s children had to carry out the duty to ensure that the prophecy remained unchanged. For that, we have to take the role of the Man of God as well, which I certainly wasn''t ready for. My mother was a priestess before she died, and so was my grandmother, and so was her mother and so on and so forth. It''s not a safe career choice, I''ll tell you that. They barely got paid. So I figured, opening an inn and living on the down low would be much safer, more so for me, since I had a child to provide for."


    I nodded. Lissy Swailes, I remembered the name.


    "So," she sighed as she leaned back, staring at the ceiling, "I ran away from the House of God, and concealed my identity just like you did, to live an ordinary life. Believe me, when I say I sympathize with you more than anyone, that can''t be any more true. But yes, I suppose it did break my heart to see how much the prophecy had gotten manipulated due to my absence."


    I nodded again, but then I remembered to ask something.


    "Mama," I said, frowning, "I''ve lost sleep over thinking about asking you this, but what actually is the real prophecy?" It''s true, I slept terribly last night. I had expected Mama to answer it in all sorts of ways. But the most, I wanted the real prophecy to be something in favor of the supposedly ill-fated princess. Something that


    Mama Ruth stayed silent.


    "Mama?"


    She put a finger on her lips, telling me to stay silent.


    "I''ll tell you one day," she muttered in a daze-like state. "That day is not today, though."


    Dang. I''m always out of the loop. Why won''t anybody tell me anything? And not just anything, this was something that could change the course of my life! I grumbled at my dumb luck and gulped down the rest of the tea, burning my tongue in the process. But this pain felt good.


    "Alright," I said nonchalantly, "I''ll await the day, then. Don''t forget, Mama."


    She muttered something, seemingly in a sleep-like state. I picked up her cup from her lap and took it silently to the kitchen where Sven was still present.


    "What happened?" he asked quietly, pausing whatever he had been doing, which was apparently cutting up vegetables. "She didn''t yell at you for whatever reason, did she?"


    I shook my head. I realized our conversation had gone by much smoother than I had expected. Not once did she accuse me of wrong-doing.


    I put the cup along with the other cutlery that needed washing and leaned against the counter, watching Sven work. He kept peeking at me nervously, his knife wobbling far away from the carrots.


    "What?" I asked.


    He shrugged and focused back on the carrots. I waited a while for him to say something, but when he remained silent, I went back upstairs after grabbing a baby carrot snack.


    ?


    Reynard sat beside the bed, his face crumpled up into a mixture of hurt, hopelessness and disbelief.  There was a clutter outside, and then the door sprung open.


    "I came as fast as I could on foot!" Rosa huffed and puffed as she held onto the door. Then her eyes moved from Reynard''s limp figure to the bed and her eyes widened as she let go of the door. "Mother..." She walked forward, as if tranced, and collapsed before the bed. "Mother!"


    Her eyes brimmed with tears as she grabbed onto the foot of her mother, covered over with a thin white sheet. In fact, the whole dead body had been laid over with a spare bedsheet, for the children did not want to be reminded that their mother had indeed passed away. Reynard closed his eyes after seeing his sister grab hopelessly onto his dead mother''s foot and weep into her chest. He was still very much in shock.


    Oh, if only he had come home sooner last night. He had been out in the rain over at Mama Ruth''s, when his sick mother was alone at home. When he had finally returned, he had found his home''s door wide open and his mother lay limp near the doorsteps.


    Hurriedly, he had brought her in to warm her up, since she was sick and it was not acceptable by his means to be out in the rain in such a state. But before he had even laid her down on her bed, he had known she wasn''t breathing.


    He had tried everything.


    He tried to shake her, to wake her up again, but her eyelids never fluttered open. He tried to tickle her in her tickle spot right at the back of her neck, but she never once laughed. He even tried to douse her with water since his mother hated getting wet, but she didn''t yell at him. Not once.


    "Reynard." His sister''s voice broke him from his trance of thoughts. "What happened?"


    Reynard felt unable to speak. What had happened? Why was his mother lying near the door like that last night? Had someone tried to kidnap her under the shadow of the stormy night? But why would someone just leave her like that? Because of the cold, stormy night, her health had worsened rapidly, resulting in- he winced, not wanting to think about the word- death.


    But most of all, Reynard deemed himself at fault. If only he had stayed at home, if only he had looked after her last night... she wouldn''t haveˇ­


    "Reynard?" Rosa called again. "You don''t look so good. I advise resting for a bit before we arrange for her...funeral. Has the news reached out to father?"


    Weakly, Reynard nodded.


    "By letter?"


    Reynard nodded again.


    Rosa stood up and wiped her face on a handkerchief before looking at her mother''s covered body with determination. "Alright, Reynard, we''re strong, we can do this. Let''s not mope now, shall we? Get up. Here, let me help you." Rosa bended and grabbed Reynard by the arm and heaved him up. Limply, as if with not a will of his own, Reynard stood up, but he seemed as if he would fall down again. Rosa noticed and quickly ushered him to his room, making him lay down in bed.


    "Good boy," she said as she looked upon him fondly. "Sleep, now, for I hope you wake up to a happier day."


    Not until he had laid in bed, Reynard hadn''t realized how much he had been punching sleep away. As soon as his head touched the pillow, he was out cold.


    Quietly, Rosa closed the door and collapsed on the floor in a puddle of her own tears. Oh, how she had kept them in. Since she was the elder sister, she had a duty to remain composed and strong headed, especially in front of her younger sibling. But when she was aloneˇ­


    Slowly, Rosa rose to her feet and went to put the pan on for breakfast.

 Chapter 73 - An Unexpected Invite

    Reynard was awoken by the sound of the front door opening. Could Rosa be going out again?


    Slowly, he pushed himself off his bed and made his way to the living room. Nobody there. He was about to go check if his mother was awake when the dreaded reality hit him in the face. His mother was dead. He covered his face with his eyes and tried to keep in his tears. Successful, he moved towards the kitchen as he smelled food, but stopped midway when he saw a faint figure of a man from the corners of his eyes.


    Was it the kidnapper from last night? "Who''s there!?" he yelled as he swerved to his right...and came face to face with his father. "F-Father, what are you doing here?"


    His father- Simon Gradral- side man to the Emperor and commander to one of the highest ranking squadrons of the Imperial Knights, was in tears. In tears over his dead wife.


    "I''m sorry, son," he croaked out, his face crumpled. "I''m sorry I wasn''t here for my family in these miserable times. With Amice, with Rosa, with youˇ­ Forgive me, forgive meˇ­." He collapsed on the floor as his legs gave way.


    Reynard stood as he looked down on his father who was still dressed in the knights'' uniform, his sword hanging by his side. Such an apology...was it acceptable?


    "Get up, father," Reynard muttered as he pulled him by the arm. "Let''s prepare for the funeral. Mother wouldn''t have liked all of us mourning her in such states; she''d want us to be happy."


    Simon nodded as he hugged his son and held him there for a few minutes before letting go. Rosa emerged from the kitchen, and upon seeing her father return home, she ran into his arms.


    "When did you arrive?" she cried as she held onto her father. "Mother, she-"


    "I know," Simon responded as he soothingly patted his daughter''s head. "I know, love. I know. I''m so sorry I wasn''t here for you and everybody else. I''m so sorry, love."


    Rosa detached herself from her father and gazed lovingly into his eyes. "As long as we still have each otherˇ­ Right! I''m setting the table. Let''s have breakfast."


    ?


    [Back at what once was Ogden Cove]


    The rain had let up after last night, but it still felt very wet. I don''t know how to describe this feeling, but there was humidity in the air and I wasn''t liking the feeling of my clothes clinging to my skin.


    I gazed out the window in my room, looking longingly at the grey clouds in the sky. It felt like a sad day, as if something terrible had happened? Were the clouds an omen? Or was it just the fact that the princess''s- my- funeral had been just last night? It still felt so unreal.


    Now that I think about it, how had they carried out the whole ceremony with the absence of the body? It must have been so eerie, and some wouldn''t have even known the dead they were mourning. I shivered at the very thought.


    I looked out again and saw a carriage coming down the street. It wasn''t like the normal carriage Reynard and I had come travelling in a few weeks ago. This carriage seemed more similar to the one I had travelled in when I visited Fleur''s Garments. Was it a royal carriage, perhaps? What was it doing in this neighborhood? Oh God, had the guards finally connected the pieces? Were they coming for me???


    Hastily, I backed away from the window in case I got seen. Oh no! I should probably hide. I crawled up under my bed and waited till I was sure the carriage had either passed or someone had come over to visit. It felt like a long time, huddled up under the bed, all sweaty and stupid.


    "What am I doing?" I snarled at myself as I got out and dusted myself off. "Why am I acting so foolish?"


    That''s when the door opened and Sven peeked in.


    "Um, there''s someone for you at the door."


    My eyes widened. "For me?" I hissed. "Who is it and what did they say?"


    He shrugged. "It''s some rich blonde guy. Asks if there''s a young lady at home. Apparently, he''s giving every single young lady in town an invitation to attend a fancy ball. To find his bride, he says."


    It felt like I was about to faint.


    "A bride?" I exclaimed, horrified. "Why is he going the whole way? Is he a fan of the movie Cinderella or something? Show off."


    Sven looked confused. "Movie? Cindell? What are you talking about?"


    I scoffed. "You haven''t watched Cinderella?" I asked incredulously. "Have you been living under a rock?"


    "Umˇ­ is this Cindell like a theatre performance?"


    I blinked for a while. Then it hit me: Cinderella hasn''t even been invented yet! What was I doing, squabbling with a guy from the medieval times...


    "Never you mind," I mumbled. "Tell this guy at the door that there''s no girl living here."


    He shook his head. "Yes, I told him. But he said he saw someone looking through the window who looked very much like a girl. I had to give in, or else I''d have seemed a liar."


    Rats, I thought. I should have backed up sooner. And why was this fancy shmancy guy even holding a ball in a time of mourning? Had he no conscience? Someone- and not just someone, a princess!- had a funeral yesterday!


    "Tell him I don''t want the invitation," I said, crossing my arms.


    Sven made a face. "That''s rude. Can''t you just take the invitation and then not go? Nobody said it was essential to attend."


    "Can''t you just take it in my stead?"


    He shook his head. "I did offer that, but he turned it down, saying that it would be much better to give it in person. That''s some persistent guy."


    I sighed. Oh, the things I had to do for a normal life. "Fine. Let''s get this over with."


    I walked past Sven and skipped downstairs, reassured since he kept in tow to me.


    "Keep a low profile," he whispered to me as we reached the door. "Don''t let them get a good look at your face."


    I nodded and took a deep breath. Then I turned the knob and pulled open the door.


    There, before me, stood a very familiar guy. With hair as golden as the bright sun, and eyes a similar color, I dare say he was radiant. His face gleamed when he acknowledged me.


    "Good day, m''lady!" he beamed. I looked behind him, and lowered my gaze after catching a glimpse of the two intimidating guards behind his back. Both of them donned not the color of the palace guard uniforms, but a sky blue with a golden emblem on the chest. "My name is Parr Huxley, or Marquess Huxley, if you please. Eldest son of Duke Lucan Huxley of Notdale, Lands of Sovia." Then he paused mid-introduction, frowning. "Have we met before? You look awfully familiar."


    I looked at my feet, hoping my face wasn''t visible. "Um, I think not. I''ve never met someone named as yourself-" But then I, too, stopped short. Huxley. Marquess Huxley. That title did indeed ring a bell, but I couldn''t point out where I heard it from.


    "Are you sure?" Marquess Huxley asked, bending down a bit to catch a glimpse of my face, but I recoiled instantly. "You do indeed look like a familiar acquaintance, although I can''t exactly rememberˇ­ Anyways, if you are still unbetrothed, I''d be most grateful if you could accept this ball invitation I''m so happily extending. I am aware, though, of the sorrowful times these are, but I must get married in a few weeks'' time. I''d be most grateful if you show up."


    "Ah..." I hesitated to take the blue envelope from his outstretched arms. "Ah, yes, of course." I took it gently from his hands and smiled, wanting to get this over with. "Thank you."


    He nodded, his golden curls bouncing on his head. "You''re very welcome. I''ll await your presence, and please don''t think I''ll forget absent faces, especially not yours, since you look very familiar. I''ve an excellent memory!"


    I laughed awkwardly and peeked over my shoulder at Sven, who was standing near the stairs and shrugged. I turned back and took a deep breath, not wanting to draw out this meeting. "Yes, of course."


    "Parr!" A loud man''s voice bellowed from the carriage, though his face remained hidden by a curtain in the window. "What''s taking so long?"


    "Just a moment, father!" Marquess Huxley called out to the carriage, and then turned back to me. "Do you promise to attend?"


    "Huh?" I inched back. "Um..." The way he looked at me with such large, gleaming eyes made me render speechless. I couldn''t think of anything except getting away from there. "Yes, I promise to attend," I blabbered in my haste and uncomfort.


    "Good." He seemed satisfied. "I''ve still a handful of invitations to hand out, so I''ll be seeing you soon. Have a good day, m''lady."


    "Ah, yes, good day." Get out, get out, get out. He finally turned his back to me and I hastily closed and padlocked the door. "Good god, I thought he''d never leave."


    Sven came to my assistance. "Yes, that was close. It was weird how chatty he was. And to a stranger, no less."


    "Haha," I laughed awkwardly. But something didn''t seem right. His name and appearance... I couldn''t be sure that he was an absolute stranger. Where had I seen him? And then the memory returned. I danced with him that day! Ah, now I remembered. It was the same guy I danced with at my Coming-of-Age ceremony. How had I forgotten? Even then, he had seemed quite interested in me.


    I felt like I had just dodged a bullet. My heart even raced at the thought. I can''t fathom what would''ve happened if he had recognized me. But he seemed like a nice guy, so would he have let it goˇ­? No, no, I can''t reveal my secret to any more people, it was much too dangerous as it is. I glanced at Sven who was looking sheepishly at the invitation.


    "Are you gonna open it?" he asked.


    I shrugged and unfolded the clean-cut flap. "Might as well."


    Slowly, I pulled out the hard, card-stock invite and chuckled at the overly done italics. Then I started to readˇ­

 Chapter 74 - Her Wedding Dress

    ????????????


    The Duchy of Notdale cordially invites you to the Selection Ball of the decade, held in request by Marquess Parr Huxley, heir to the duchy.


    The grand fete will take place at The Grandeur Plaza on Eden Road, Eyress, on the 19th of Frauwa, Year 517 of the Priestess.


    The honor of your presence is requested.


    Best Regards,


    Duke Lucan Van Huxley of Notdale.


    ????????????


    .


    .


    .


    It was short and formal.


    I turned the card around for any missed extended note, but found none. I peered at the signed name at the bottom in strange familiarity. Lucan. Was this the same Lucan who used to court Mama Ruth? No, no way. He was just a merchant, not a duke. It would be much too big of a coincidence.


    "Something on your mind?" Sven tapped on my shoulder.


    I shook free from my thoughts. "Oh, nothing."


    "So are you going?" he asked again.


    I threw the invitation on the table. "When is it?"


    Sven picked up the invitation and read from it. "It says here it''s on the 19th, which is a day from now. You going would be a bit dangerous, wouldn''t it?"


    I nodded and scratched my chin. "Mm, I promised him that I''d attend. It''d seem disrespectful to not go after he requested so nicely. I''ll consult Mama when she wakes up."


    .


    .


    .


    "Are you crazy!?" Mama shouted incredulously after going over the invite. "Why did you even open the door?"


    "He already saw me through the window," I replied, sitting comfortably in her armchair. It was the first time I sat there, but I felt like I was in heaven, especially after breaking my back sleeping on the jail bed upstairs. Bliss. "And Sven probably got flustered and called me. What else could I have done?"


    Mama grumbled. "Well, forget about attending. You''re grounded, missy."


    "What!" I asked, scoffing unbelievably. "You can''t ground me! And what for, anyways?"


    Mama pointed towards the red ACCOUNTS book that sat on the floor, beside the armchair. "For snooping around in my house. And of course I can ground you, who said I can''t?"


    At first I would probably not have gone, but this reverse psychology stuff was really getting to me.


    "I''m going, and that''s that."


    She gave a low chuckle. "Wearing what? The tunic you don? It''s a grand ball, missy. There''ll be rich rich people in rich rich clothes. Unless you have something grand to wear, you can''t step foot into a place so resplendent."


    I bit my lips. She was right. I had promised, but could I fulfill such a promise? What if I miss the ball and Marquess Huxley shows up at my doorstep, inquiring about my absence? That would cause so many more problems. It''d be better to go and put an end to things right away.


    "I''ll see what I can do about that," I sighed. "Mama, even if you ground me, I''m afraid that Marquess will show up again. He specially made me promise to come, and even went as far as saying he''ll be looking out for me."


    Mama''s eyebrow went up. "Well, isn''t he smitten with you. But tell, is he handsome?"


    I smirked. "Too shiny."


    She laughed and I joined in. It was good that Mama was so sweet-tempered, because I really had been reckless. Were Reynard''s habits rubbing off on me? I needed to be more careful in the future.


    "Mama," I whined, "any way of getting me an adequate enough dress?" I know I had said I''d figure it out myself, but there was no way I actually could. Desperate times like these call for desperate measures.


    Mama put a hand under her chin and thought. "When''s the ball again?"


    "The day after tomorrow."


    She nodded. "Then, we can''t go out to buy you something new since all the shops are closed. We''ll have to make do with the garments we have at home." I frowned, not getting her point. "Come on," she said as she led me outside. "Let''s go up to the attic and scavenge."


    ?


    "Oof, this place is nas-ty!" Mama scrunched up her nose and stared around the musty attic in clear disgust. "Did both of y''all clean at all?"


    I stood near the hole that led up to the attic and looked around. But for some reason, there was no way I could see the nastiness. I saw but a magical attic, much like from that one book we read in school once (other than Moby Dick), The Little Princess. It had been a boring read, with all the hard English words, but the very idea of living in an attic intrigued me.


    I was about to go in the direction of my little nook by the stained glass window, when Mama walked in the opposite direction.


    "This here," she said as she pointed towards a chest in the corner, "contains some of my old clothes. Clothes from when I was young. Let''s see if we can find something of use here. Help me open it."


    I ran up ahead and undid the two latches on either side of the chest, then with brute strength, I lodged my fingers between the little gap and heaved up, bringing the heavy lid with me. A large cloud of dust was revealed from within, and I stopped breathing from the nose to avoid any sneezing.


    "Right." Mama said as she rubbed her hands together, undisturbed by the dust, "Let''s see, now."


    I stood back and let Mama look through the piles and piles of what looked like moth-eaten fabric. There was no way I could go wearing any of that at the ball; I''ll get weird looks! I prayed to whatever god who had stuck me in this world, to have some mercy on me.


    "Ah, here we go," Mama muttered as she pulled out a long yellow poppy dress. "I remember bargaining for it at the market once. Haha." Then she thrust it at me as she turned back to the chest. "See if it fits."


    I held the dress at arm''s length and let it fall to the ground. It was tailored for a much shorter woman than myself, reaching roughly only to my knees'' length. And I didn''t want to ruin Mama''s mood by saying this, but the dress was pretty ugly. The one I had worn on the day of my ceremony had been 100 times grander and fancier than this skimpy thing.


    Mama saw me looking at the dress with slight contempt, so she asked, "Not the one? I know it''s not fit for a ball, but I still thought you should take a look.."


    I put a smile on my face as I handed it back to her. "Anything a bit more big? Because usually, girls wear large frocks on such occasions, not a straight dress. I think."


    She nodded as she searched through the chest. "Well then, there''s only one other thing that could meet these requirements." With a big pull, she yanked out a piece of fabric that even left me staggered. It was so big!


    "We need to straighten this old thing out," Mama muttered as she looked upon it fondly. "Gosh, this gives me nostalgia."


    As Mama pulled out the seams and the dress started to take shape, I couldn''t help admiring its old charm. It was a lime green dress, and not an unpleasant color to the eye that was. And oh my! It had a heart shaped neckline that was made to hug the chest. I saw no straps, nothing to keep the dress firmly on my shoulders. And it was a much more daring dress than any other I had seen in this world, probably with all the collar area it showed.


    Nervously, I looked over at Mama and she burst out laughing. "This was my wedding dress!"


    I was even more appalled. "B-But it''s green."


    She shrugged. "So? There''s no book of rules I''ve ever seen which says wedding dresses should always be white. I dressed how I wanted, and oh how the neighborhood ladies had given me the envious looks. I was quite a looker in my times."


    Yes, I know. But I was still confused. No matter how pretty she had been, how can one pull that off? Even with my new body and face, I still shuddered at the thought of wearing that in public. But there was no denying it despite everything: It was beautiful.


    "Yeah?" Mama asked, eyebrows raised. She, too, was admiring its beauty. "It''s good enough to wear to the ball, and it''s our best bet. I think I may have some tulle to cover up some cleavage with right here..." She put the dress in my grasp and started fumbling through the chest, not noticing that I was struggling under the weight of the gown.


    "Ah, right here," she muttered, pulling out a light green netting with small holes. "I''ll sew this on."


    "But won''t it ruin the actual dress?" I asked. After all, it was her wedding dress we were talking about.


    She waved a dismissive hand at me. "I don''t care. Let''s do it. It''s been a while since that dress has seen some use. I''d love to see it worn one last time before I have to throw it away."


    My heart sank as I stroked the silky green fabric in my hand. Would it really mean a lot for Mama to see me wearing it? I contemplated between my decisions, not once meeting Mama''s gaze.


    I must have taken too long because Mama pulled the dress out of my hands and headed downstairs. "Come on, now. Help me get down. These old woman''s legs aren''t taking her nowhere."


    Chuckling to myself, I went ahead to aid her, not having the slightest idea what God had in store for me.

 Chapter 75 - In His Shoes

    Mama tightened the ribbons of the dress''s built-in corset, making me squeal.


    "Stand. Still," she ordered for the nth time.


    I shrieked as the ribbons pulled me in. "You''re pulling it too tight! Ahh, my poor waist..."


    "No talking!" she bellowed as she pulled the ribbons again, with so much force that I wheezed. "Tuck in your stomach. Y''know, I never made a single noise when I wore that. Have some guts!"


    I felt like all my guts were gonna explode. Sweaty from all the exercise, I rolled my eyes and leaned my head against the mirror in Mama Ruth''s room.


    "Spare me," I croaked out.


    She laughed an insidious laugh. "Come now, you''re the one who so wanted to go to this ball. Now you shall bear the consequences."


    Weakly, I held the sides of my waist as the corset pulled me in again. I groaned in anticipation of another pull, but Mama, with her swift fingers, neatly tied a bow at the bottom and stood back to admire her handiwork.


    "Good god, I''m so good at this," she muttered as her eyes swept over me. "Come, let''s do your hair now."


    As Mama took a hold of my black lots and started combing them, I realized  she never once asked about my powers. And I''d never told her. I bit my lips as I stared at my reflection in the mirror. Was it really okay if Sven knew and she didn''t? Sooner than later we''ll definitely have a talk about that, so should I just bring up the topic nowˇ­?


    "Mama," I started, my voice starchy. I cleared my throat and started again. "Mama, you never asked about my powers that were prophesied."


    I saw her reflection shrug. "I was waiting for you to tell me. It seems that there''s still an issue of trust between us."


    Self consciously, I rubbed my bare shoulder. "Not really. It''s not like I don''t trust you. It''s just that I didn''t know if it''s a blessing anymore."


    She stopped combing my hair. "What do you mean?"


    I shrugged, looking sadly at my reflection. "So I have the power of healing, okay? Though I think you probably knew that, for some reason. To be able to heal...this power might seem like a blessing to others, but for me, I deem it a curse. But a beautiful curse nonetheless. With this power comes great responsibility. I can, and I would if my freedom is guaranteed, heal all and any wounds, whether they be caused from battle or a simple household incident. To think how many people could remain alive if I offered this power to the world frightens me. If I give myself away, what will become of me, then? I''ll be an overworked piece belonging to the public. I don''t want to live like that, not at all."


    Mama had been silently listening to my rant. Now that I had let everything out, my chest felt heavy as I anticipated Mama''s reply. Had I been too open? Was I the only one who trusted Mama enough to talk like this?


    She cleared her throat as she gathered my hair in her hands so that I could see her reflection in the mirror. "I understand, lassie, I really do. It''s the same for me if I became the priestess. In this wretched world, nobody''s really a free man. We somehow always leech off of others for something or the other, yet some decide to be independent, to turn over a leaf in their lives so they could learn to survive in this world where every man is for himself. But some people chosen by God himself...they aren''t meant to live independent lives unless they run away from their duties, which is exactly what you and I did. And not an ounce of guilt do I have, too. Do you?"


    I bit the inside of my lower lip, trying to come up with a truthful answer. "No."


    She sighed and pulled my hair up into a bun. "See? Every man for himself. Nobody deserves to leech off of the other, especially not the rich off of the poor, or vice versa. Doesn''t matter."


    Mama let a lock of my hair hang against either of my temples and used pins off of a pin-cushion to secure my hair. While she did so, I took some time to ponder over her words. Leeching. Leeching off of each other. It''s scary how true that is. Even I was guilty of this act by leeching off of Reynard''s helpfulness and then off of Faustine''s unconditional kindness, and then finally (I glanced at Mama''s reflection) off of Mama Ruth''s empathy.


    I fought a rather bitter snicker as I realized that Mama would have lost all her marbles if she saw how bad the condition of the 21st century people was. Where no man ever hesitated to benefit off of the other, where preying off the poor was a hobby. I winced at the thought.


    "Alright, I''m done," Mama breathed finally. "Take a look."


    I lifted my gaze off of the floor and met my eyes in the reflection. Then my eyes moved up towards my hair and they widened when they caught sight of Mama''s handiwork.


    "Oh, wow," I muttered as I turned my head around to catch a glimpse of the back. "Mama, this is beautiful."


    And so it was. My hair had been gracefully swept up in a top bun, but the bun looked as if it was an intricately done apple pie, with all the braids going in and out. The hair locks that hung by the sides of my head gave me an elegant look, and Mama had took the look up a notch by attaching fake flower pins around my bun and on the sides of my head. The white flowers matched that of the white lily brooch I still had, and I thought it''d look good with the whole hair do, but I dared not wear such an important thing in public.


    The lime dress hugged my body around the chest and waist and flowed out below the waist into an elegant gown. I smiled at my reflection. Mama really had pulled it off perfectly.


    "Thank you, Mama," I said as I turned around. I stopped in my tracks when I saw a tear drop flow down Mama''s wrinkled cheek. "M-Mama, are you alright?"


    "Huh?" Dazed, she wiped the tear stain off her cheek and stared at her wet palm in confusion. "Why am I tearing up all of a sudden?" Then she awkwardly laughed at herself. "I must really be happy to see my wedding dress worn again. And who knew it would see its last use on none other than the Royal Crown Princess. Lissy would have never believed this story."


    I stood there in silence as Mama mumbled to herself while more tears flowed down her face. I had always admired her for her strong, ''You-Can''t-Do-Anything-To-Me'' personality, and I had never ever imagined her crying. Seeing her now, in tears, it broke my heart. It just went to show that she was still a dear old lady at heart, having had her daughter (and probably her husband too) stolen by God. My heart ached in sympathy for her.


    And then I did something I''ve never instigated with anyone, not Jieum, not Juwon, not even my own mother: I hugged Mama Ruth.


    Mama''s body stiffened at the affectionate touch, but then her shoulders slumped and she returned the gesture as she silently wept into my shoulder. This was the second time I was dealing with this kind of situation, but I felt like I could console the whole world if I wanted to.


    "Be happy, Mama," I whispered into her ear. "For tears suit no one lest they are happy."


    Mama chuckled sadly. "I am happy, my dear. I am happy. So fret not about myself and get ready for the Selection ball."


    I pulled back and looked fondly into Mama''s eyes which had already healed up. She smiled, and for once, she looked like just a normal old lady. Then she swatted at me and pulled out of my arms.


    "What are we, widows?" she snapped as she turned her back to me and went to look into something inside her drawer. "For goodness'' sake, why do women have such a high tendency for tears?"


    I chuckled. "That''s the Mama I know." I was glad that she had returned to her normal self.


    "Heh," she snickered, but not unkindly. "You need makeup."


    I frowned. "We call me a natural beauty."


    "Not me, though," she laughed. "Here, turn around so that I can apply rouge on your lips and cheeks."


    I bent down so Mama could work her magic on my face. This felt more realistic than the extravagant makeup I had been applied at the palace. Sometimes, I wondered if it was only a mere dream.


    "Done!" Mama stood back to inspect my face. "Very pretty. Okay, now shoes. Do you have any?"


    I shook my head.


    "Crap," she muttered as she stared at my feet. "My size is much larger than your petite little feet. Let''s see if we can fit you in something."


    She opened her closet and bent down. A moment later, she had a line of shoes lined up in front of my feet, both new and old. It was strange how even though most of the shoes looked the same, I could tell which ones were old and which ones were recently bought. I contemplated which of the choices would look better with the lime green dress, but I ended up with the same conclusion: None of them were fit for a grand ball like they were fit on an old lady''s feet.


    Mama, too, must''ve reached the same conclusion cuz she was ''hum''ing'' and ''haw''ing'' about our luck. "Mmm, I don''t like any one of these," she announced about her own shoes. "But I think Sven might have something that may look not half as bad with the gown. Wait for a while."


    Hastily, Mama scurried out of her room and I heard her distant call for Sven. I stood near her closet, waiting for her to return, and when she did, she had a pair of brown leather sandals in her arms.  The sandals were the type with strings that wrapped around the feet to secure them. I had seen more than enough runway models wear them on fashion shows. (No, I never attended a fashion show in person. Jieum showed me pictures on her phone.)


    "These are nice," I muttered as I delicately fingered the strings. "But they don''t go along with the dress."


    "Unless they were green," Mama suggested, a creative glint in her eyes. "I was thinking we could paint them."


    I gasped. "Won''t Sven mind?"


    She shook her head. "He has outgrown these since long ago. Look at how small they are. They''ll fit you perfectly."


    "Ohhh~" Right. Now that I took a closer look at those, they wouldn''t have fit a man at all. They were quite tiny, but not too tiny. "But how do you reckon we paint these?"


    Mama thought for a brief moment. "Hmm, I have some acrylic paint with me from when I grew an interest in painting. But I''m not quite sure that they''re still usable though, since acrylic paint dries at a speedy rate."


    I nodded understandingly. Mama dived into her closet once more and brandished a few tubes of what appeared to be paint. The tubes were pinched at places and there were paint smudges all over the silver tubing.


    "Coincidentally, I have but green, red and yellow. We shall use the green," she announced as she twisted open the cap. "Come, help me. There''s absolutely no way I''ve still got it in me. I haven''t a brush so we must paint it with our hands...  On second thoughts, you do nothing since I know you''ll ruin the dress with paint. Sit there and watch quietly, lassie.. Sit and watch."

 Chapter 76 - Will You Be Okay?

    [The Gradral Household]


    Cutlery clinked on plates and pitchers hit the glass rim. Everyone ate in silence.


    Reynard peeked over at his father who was picking at the peas in his plates. Reynard remembered very well how much his father liked peas, but today, he looked upon them with no appetite. It was likewise for Rosa.


    She sat staring emptily at her untouched food. Reynard looked at his own plate and realized he was the only one who ate at all. It was a weird thing. When other people were nervous or in grief, they either ate very less or didn''t eat at all. Reynard, on the other hand, built up an appetite when he was anxious.


    As he spooned into his mouth a chunk of potato, he thought about how to break the ice. It had been two and a half years since they last properly saw their father, who had then enlisted into the Knights'' Regiment training upon Reynard''s wish. Before that, his father was a mercenary who often left the country in search of work. He had just retired for a year when Reynard had developed a special interest in the palace knights. (Admittedly, he had just found their armor uniform very impressive.)


    Reynard swallowed his food and gave a deliberate cough to get his family''s attention. His father and Rosa both looked up at the same time, and Reynard couldn''t help notice how glazed their eyes were.


    "Umˇ­ the food''s good, yeah?"


    None of them answered. At least, not for a while.


    Rosa gave a small, hoarse chuckle. "I get it, Reyn. You don''t need to force yourself to be like that. It''s just...It''s just been so long since we last sat together like this. Father hasn''t been a part of family meals for 3 years, so it''s just a tad bit awkward for us."


    Simon Gradral''s shoulder slumped as he stared at his plate.


    "I''m sorry, kids," he managed to utter. "I should''ve been here for you all. I really should''ve-"


    "Oh, stop it!" Rosa snapped and then placed a fond hand on her father''s. "Let''s not talk about this. How long of a leave of absence has the Emperor agreed to grant you?"


    "A week." Simon sighed.


    Rosa nodded, the glazed look going away from her eyes. "We''ve got so little time; let''s make it count, father. Let''s not waste such precious seconds."


    Simon nodded and then reached his hand out for his son''s. Reynard let him take it. His father gave it a gentle squeeze and smiled. At that moment, Reynard couldn''t help noticing how worn out he looked. He looked like he had aged 10 years since the last time he saw him, and even his hands were callused.


    "That''s right," Simon said to both of his children. "Let''s spend as much time together as we can. Let us all hope Amice is looking upon us with an intent to love and protect."


    Rosa and Reynard simultaneously clenched their jaws as once more, they were reminded of their mother''s demise. But they felt much more confident after having their father along with them.


    Maybe, just maybeˇ­ they could make this work.


    ?


    "You look daft."


    I scoffed. The audacity Sven had gathered after growing fond of me was just ''staggering''. Literally.


    "And how do you reason that?" I asked as I stuck out my chin, which wobbled just a little under Sven''s intense gaze. No, maybe it wobbled since we were on a carriage, going over the bumpiest path of my life.


    He frowned as he studied my face. "What''s on the pink stuff on your face? And my shoes-" he looked down at my feet that I promptly pulled under the shelter of my poofy dress. "What a horrendous paint job. You look a comic."


    I laughed bitterly. "Well, thank you for going ahead and ruining the last ounce of confidence I had left." Dammit, I know he was right. Ever since we had set out of Ogden Cove, I had seen many other carriages heading the same way: To the Grandeur Plaza. Admittedly, I had tried several times to catch glimpses of the ladies inside the extravagant, pumpkin-shaped carriages and dare I say, I was chuffed. In comparison to them, I really did look like a piece of green algae growing on the side of the road. It made me feel nervous.


    Sven had insisted on escorting me there because I could trip or something, but I knew he just wanted to see the venue of the ball. "The Selection ball of the decade, it says," he had muttered. "Well, wouldn''t I like to confirm that. They should be lucky they''ve got a princess attending." And that''s why he had come along.


    "How much farther, mister?" Sven''s voice wobbled as he turned his face to ask the coachman, who was a man wearing a mystery eye-patch.


    "3 minutes."


    Sven nodded and turned back. "We''ll be there soon. Have you everything with you?" I nodded and brandished the invitation card from a hidden pocket inside the dress''s folds. He nodded back, approving. "Fix your hair, too. There are some frizzy strands near your temples. Yeah, right there. And rub your lips again to re-apply the rouge. You''ve removed it almost completely from your bottom lip since you''ve been biting it all this time. Don''t do that, or your lips will start bleeding."


    I kept looking curiously at Sven while he babied me. Someone once told me that this is how a mother acted with her child, and I hadn''t believed it since my mother had never even had an ounce of care for me. But now that I was experiencing this in real life, I felt warm all over.


    As Sven continued to fret over me, I broke in and said, "I''m OK! Stop worrying, by God."


    Instantly, he stopped talking and blinked. "I wasn''t worrying."


    "Yeah, right," I laughed. That''s when a shiny golden glare hit my eyes and blinded me for a moment. When I had recovered, I looked out and saw a large building with a similar architectural structure of the palace, but shrouded with colors, indescribable. Is this The Grandeur Plaza? "Anyways, I think we''re here now."


    Sven looked out , too, and reached the same conclusion because he pulled back in and nervously clenched his hands. "Will you be okay? What if someone recognizes you?"


    "Sven," I sighed. "Not again. We''ve talked over this time and time again. I''ll be okay, I promise! Look at me, do I look anything like my posters?"


    He observed me for a moment and then shook his head, seeming disappointed.


    "Okay, but what if he tries to assault you? I don''t trust him," he muttered as he avoided my gaze, which made me burst out laughing.


    "Oh, c''mon. Buckle up, Sven, he''s a gentleman. I doubt he''ll ruin his shiny reputation at the last moment, just when he''s looking for a bride," I exclaimed, teary with laughter. "But oh, alright. I''ll keep out of his way, or EVERYONE''S way if I can help it."


    He leaned back in his seat, finally seeming satisfied. Just then, the carriage halted to a stop.


    "That''ll be 20 coppers," the coachman grumbled without looking back. Sven reached out a hand through the little window that separated us and stopped the coins into his palms.


    "Can you wait right here?" Sven asked shyly. "I''ll just drop the lady off and come back, since I have no business here." Then he turned to me. "How long is the ball going to be?"


    I shrugged. "I''ll give it an hour and a half."


    He nodded and whispered, "Okay. Come on, let''s go. Mind your footing."


    He got out first and offered me a hand to help me down. Invitation clenched in hand, I got out and almost tripped over a crack in the cobblestone, but Sven was right there to help.


    "That''s why I said I should come," he smiled, "or you would''ve been lying on your face right now."


    I shook my head. When had he become such a tease?


    "Alright, smarty-pants," I said as my eyes looked past him at the Plaza. Women dressed in extravagant ball gowns walked in pairs or groups of three as they trotted down the cobblestone path and into the grand entrance. "Off we go."


    Sven had somehow forced himself into wearing a coat, so as not to embarrass me among the other rich nobles. He looked much better in formal clothing, so I had to give it to him. With his silver-ish hair slick back and feet in polished shoes, he looked very much like a proper gentleman.


    "M''lady," he said as he offered me his arm. I took it with a smile. Both of us walked down the long path that led to the grand entrance. "The name really suits the venue, don''t you think?" he whispered to me as we got closer. I looked at him as he admired the building, his face shrouded in a golden glow.


    "Yeah."


    A look of uncertainty passed his face as he leaned closer to my ear. "Are you sure you''ll be okay?"


    I sighed and closed my eyes. "I''m not answering that anymore."


    He pulled his arm towards himself, pulling me closer to him. I got easily annoyed at that.


    "Just tell me."


    I sighed again. "Yes, for the nth time, I''ll be fine." Just as I finished my sentence, we reached the entrance and I noticed women gaping at Sven. Did he look that good? "Alright now, shoo! Shoo away."


    Reluctantly, he pulled his arm from mine and walked a few steps before giving me a second glance back.


    "Go!" I hissed.


    He frowned and then finally, he left. I watched him climb into the carriage and not a  moment later, the horses carried it away. Far into the mist, till it was just a moving dot. Only then did I realize how alone and out of place I felt. Fancily dressed women in heavy jewelry stared at me as they showed their invitations to the guard at the entrance.


    I, too, after gathering my nerve, proceeded towards the guard with the invitation in front of me, displayed for all eyes to see...

 Chapter 77 - The Grandeur Plaza

    The guard let me in after giving me a curious look.


    Awkwardly, I walked in over the reflective white floor, feeling shabby amongst the other women that walked by in their elaborately tailored dresses. But none of them would''ve compared to the dress I wore at the Ceremony, not even close.


    Self consciously, I strode in towards the main hall, but not before I had caught a glimpse of a massive chandelier in there. I felt very bare in my shabby dress as I approached the ball room. The women were dressed to their necks and wrists, since it was a cold night. I looked to my right and the moon peered down at me from one of the many tall windows. I bit my lip again, wondering if coming here was a mistake. Maybe I should''ve stayed at home-


    "Excuse me!" someone cried after bumping into me. "Oh, I''m so very sorry."


    I turned around and came face to face with a brunette, her hair hanging not below her shoulders. She had a soft, innocent look on her face as she apologized to me again, for bumping into me.


    Confused and speechless, I muttered a reply and turned back quickly, not wanting her to look at me too closely. I had expected the girl to move on, but she came to stand by my side.


    "What''s your name, if you don''t mind me asking?" she asked politely as she balanced on her heels. I didn''t know what this girl''s intent was, but her being so frank was suspicious. I took a better look at her and noticed how pretty her blue sequined dress was. It went well with her slightly grey eyes which had a tinge of blue in them.


    "Ashli," I croaked out. "Ashli Rivers."


    Her eyes widened and her mouth spread into a beaming smile. "That''s so pretty! It''s the first time I''ve heard the name ''Ashli''. Are you foreign?"


    I shook my head and came to stand closer to the wall so that I wouldn''t block anyone''s way in the corridor. "No," I answered. "I''m from...around here." That''s not a lie. I couldn''t tell her I was actually Korean, could I?


    "Oh." She seemed disappointed. "My name is Haziel Laurenette Aubellon. A pleasure to meet you. I love your dress! It''s very similar to something my mother wore at a gala once."


    I laughed awkwardly as I covered my cleavage with the lock of hair by my sides. I had been so distracted by the girl''s initiation to conversate, I hadn''t even given the ballroom a proper look. Now that I did, I was in awe. Haziel must have seen me gaping because from the corner of my eye, I saw her smile.


    "Isn''t it so beautiful?" she whispered. "This is my second time coming here."


    "Oh?" I turned to her. "When was the first time?"


    She shrugged. "My mum''s wedding. We had it here."


    I furrowed my eyebrows. I was confused. "You...You attended your own mother''s wedding?"


    She blinked at me, innocence and slight puzzlement all over her face. "Yes?" It was as if she had no idea what I was talking about. But then she suddenly understood why I was confused. "Oh! My stepmother, I meant. I''ve gotten used to calling her ''mum''."


    I nodded. "Oh." Well, this was awkward.


    She smiled sadly as she stared at her shoes. I, too, did give them a glance. They were sort of pearly and blue with a gorgeous blue flower on each toe. It made me feel unconfident about my own sandals.


    "My dad killed my biological mother," she said suddenly.


    For a while, my mind refused to understand the statement. Dazed, I stared at the floor while the wheels ran in my head, trying to make sense of what I''d heard.


    "Pardon?"


    She sighed as she stressed her arms over her head. "Come on." She grabbed my arm and tugged. "Let''s go. We can''t be standing near the walls if we want to be picked as the marquess''s bride! We must make ourselves stand out!"


    "W-Wait-" But my cry was of no avail since I was tugged away nonetheless. Haziel pulled me and walked over to the ballroom where women, younger and older than me, stood around chatting in groups. It seemed that the event was yet to start since people were still arriving.


    "Haziel, I don''t think-"


    "Let''s not be unsocial! We need to make others aware of such strong contenders as ourselves," she said as she turned to show me puppy eyes. "Come on, Ashli, be a dear."


    I was very close to being persuaded. I knew what she wanted. She wanted to introduce me to others. I could see it in her eyes as she searched other faces. But that, my friends, would surely be a risk.


    As I was pulled along, winding through groups of people, I noticed the decorations on every inch of the room. There were a lot of flowers, purple flowers. They were like those long purple things, what were they called... Ah! Wisterias. They were decorated along with some other white flowers (lilies?) in large vases. Maybe that was why the ballroom smelled like a flower shop.


    At several instances, I was blinded by intense golden light coming from the many chandeliers in the ballroom. They were so beautiful, I couldn''t help but stare up.


    "Ah, I see a familiar face," Haziel called out to me as she slowed down. "Is this Wendell Alistair I''m seeing?"


    She came to stop near a group of 7 women standing right in the middle of the ballroom, around the symmetrical mosaic pattern on the floor. Haziel narrowed her eyes as she looked at a specific woman in the group from afar and then beamed, her face lighting up.


    "It is!" she exclaimed as she approached one of the women. "Wendell, Wendell Alistair," she said and tapped the shoulder of a noirette. From the back, she eerily reminded me of Elora, and I recoiled in horror.


    The woman turned around- and against my expectations- she had a small, doll-face. Her large brown eyes looked at both of us with puzzlement and slight contempt which perhaps only I noticed. I wanted to get out of here.


    "Um, who are you?" the noirette- Wendell - asked Haziel.


    She seemed disappointed. "Don''t you remember me?" she asked. "It''s me, Haziel Aubellon. We met at the dressmaker''s in town a couple days ago. We talked, remember?"


    I could almost see the wheels turning in Wendell''s head as she tried to remember, but I could tell it was no use.


    "Um, yeah. I guess," she said eventually, with a haughty flip of her wavy hair over her shoulder. "Whatever." With that, she turned back to her girl friends and resumed whatever she had been talking about. The girls (after giving us both disgusted looks) turned back to Wendell and hung on her every word like she was the focal point of admiration.


    Mid-talk, Wendell turned around to us and narrowed her eyes, her lips tilting down in a scowl. "You''re still here?"


    Haziel gripped my arm tightly and fidgeted with her dress by the other. "Um, I thought we could talk more? Let us in on the coversation, perhaps?"


    There was a split second of silence. Then all 7 women burst out laughing. We got weird looks from every group and I hung my head in embarrassment.


    "And why would we do that?" Wendell snarled out after a while of cracking up. "It''s not like we''re friends. And I don''t talk to strangers, especially not those who dress in clothes that look like they were snatched from the homeless on the street."


    I looked up and saw Wendell eyeing me. She looked me up and down once, then scoffed. At that moment, the red color on my cheeks was not rouge. I hung my head, but inside, I wanted to strangle that snake.


    Haziel gave my arm a reassuring squeeze. "Well, why would you go and insult yourself like that?" Haziel said, with a tone I hadn''t heard from her before. "Don''t you think talking to yourself is weird anyways? You need to be furtive or else others might realize that you''re a b*tch, which you so are."


    With that, she turned on her heels and led me away.


    I was quick enough in giving her a glance back to notice that her face was even redder than her dress. I couldn''t keep in the satisfied grin which appeared on my face then. I must''ve seemed pretty happy because Wendull looked at me and her face twisted even more. Her girl friends looked likewise, but I could tell that they were amused.


    Long-live good Comebacks!


    .


    .


    .


    "Phew!" Haziel sighed with relief as she drank a cup of water from the refreshments table. "That was nerve-wracking."


    I leaned against the white sheet-draped table and observed her. She caught me looking and turned to look behind her as if she wasn''t the object of my admiration.


    "You really are weird," I muttered.


    "Pardon?" she asked, pointing to herself.


    I shook awake from my daze and looked around, confused. "Did I say that out loud?"


    She laughed musically. "It''s okay. I really thought Wendell would have a pleasant bone in her. She seemed like a nice person at the dressmaker, though."


    I nodded as my eyes travelled over to Wendell''s group. She had her back to us and had resumed talking. But every minute or so, one of her girl friends did give us a little peek.


    "When''s the event going to start?" Haziel asked as she looked around. "I want to dance!"


    "I don''t understand one thing," I said as I admired some dresses on a couple of passing by ladies. "There''s only one of Marquess Huxley. Who will he choose? And will everyone stand around while he dances with one lady?"


    Haziel shrugged as she put her water cup back down on the table and proceeded to fix the large bow attached to her waist. "As far as I know about Selection balls, the host of the ball is supposed to ask for the first dance with the woman he fancies best. Love at first sight, I suppose. The rest of the women are supposed to either spectate, or pray that he''ll dance the next round with one of them."


    I tilted my head. "That''s it?"


    She nodded. "Is this your first time at a Selection ball?"


    "Well, yes," I agreed. "Is that supposed to be strange?"


    She waved a dismissive hand as her bored eyes searched the crowd. "I don''t think so. Most nobles don''t do Selection balls anymore. They tend to marry a woman by the conventional method: by courting one they find fanciful at public events or something. Selection balls are only for the very rich, and are often frowned upon by those who deem them wasteful."


    I nodded, starting to understand. "I see.." There was so much in this world that I had yet to get a grasp on.

 Chapter 78 - Love At First Sight

    "Sooo... about what you said before."


    Haziel perked up. She had suggested we walk the gardens together for a while before the Marquess arrived, so here we were. The moon shone brightly upon us from above, so much it was as if it was smiling. The lush grass crunched under our feet and I could feel grass blades poking at me through my sandals. It bothered me, while Haziel, who wore closed shoes, was oblivious.


    In the distance I could make out the faint, moon-lit silhouettes of clean-cut bushes and certain shrubbery lined neatly outside the Plaza walls. As a soft breeze flew past us, the stray strands of my hair danced wildly upon my face. Pulling them behind my ears, I covered my shoulders with my hands because of the cold night.


    Haziel alongside me walked casually, swinging her arms as if undisturbed by nature.


    "What about?" she asked as she leaned forward and gave my face a sideways glance.


    I wavered. "Erm..." I wanted to ask about that comment she had made earlier, the one which seemed too awful to be real. All this time, I had assumed it was a joke, and despite her cheerful act, the sad look had never left her eyes after she said that.


    But wouldn''t it be too thoughtless to bring up? The fact that her father had killed her biological motherˇ­ I shivered.


    "Is it too cold?" Haziel said, suddenly worried. "I shouldn''t have suggested coming outside. Let us go back-"


    "No, it''s alright." Though it indeed was a bit chilly, I''d rather be outside in the comfort of our own presence against the watchful eyes of the scrutinizing women inside.


    "Hmm, then what did you want to ask?"


    I squeezed my shoulders. "No, it''s nothing."


    "Oh, come on! Do say," she exclaimed as she bumped her shoulders to mine. "Tell me."


    I shook my head. I was about to make another excuse when we heard a loud hollering of trumpets coming from inside the Plaza.


    "Cripes, it''s started!" Haziel beamed as she took a hold of my shoulders. "Come on, let''s go."


    Once again, I was dragged away from the quietness of the garden and we hurried in through the entrance that adjoined the Plaza to the garden. The warmness inside the Plaza enveloped me the moment I set foot inside and my shoulders eased back in relief.


    I must''ve slowed down because Haziel tugged at my arm again and led me through the crowd.


    "Come on!" she said hastily as her eyes searched the crowd. I, too, looked and noticed that everyone had their backs to us and had their head turned to the same direction: The middle of the ballroom.


    "He''s here!" Haziel said excitedly as she pulled again and we emerged to the front of the crowd. I''d rather have stayed at the back like a loner, but since everything was going so quickly, I had no idea how to react. In the front of the crowd, I looked to my left and right because for some reason, everyone had dispersed to form a pathway in the middle. There was a crowd mirroring ours not far in front of ours, and they, too, had looks of anticipation on their faces.


    "What''s going on?" I whispered to Haziel, confused. It was as if Moses had appeared and made a path for his people, but this time, instead of water, the crowd of girls had dispersed.


    I followed the bright gazes of everyone else and noticed that where the lines of girls began stood two guards wearing the similar blue uniforms I had seen the guards don two days ago at the inn.


    They held old fashioned trumpets in their fingers and blew into them once again, sending the loud, blaring bellow through the ball room. Nobody seemed to be perturbed by that, but I recoiled as the sound hurt my ears.


    What was going on?


    "Haziel?"


    "Shh!" she hissed as she craned forward to catch a glimpse of up ahead. "The Marquess is about to make his appearance. Stand straight and look pretty so he would choose one of us."


    Instinctively, I fixed my wind disturbed hair and fixed the shoulders of my dress. I didn''t even want to be a bride, what was I doing?


    Suddenly, a low murmur emerged in the crowds and women shuffled closer to get a closer look. I was pushed several times from behind, but I stood my ground. I took one look ahead and took a deep breath.


    At the start of the hall, Marquess Huxley stood in all his glory and golden hair, wearing a white and blue dress coat with matching pants. He looked quite regal in the attire he donned, and the guards beside him added to the image.


    Slowly, the Marquess took a step forward, and then another one as he walked down the hall, his eyes searching faces to his left and right. Soon, his eyes would be on me as I was right in front of the crowd, and I recoiled in horror. He can not choose to dance with me! No way, all eyes would be on me in that case.


    "Excuse me," I mumbled as I pushed my way to the back of the crowd, feeling weak headed and nauseous.


    "Where are you going!?" Haziel whispered as she touched my arm. "Don''t you want to dance?"


    "Restroom," I murmured as I looked away and made my way back. Other women were grateful to take up my spot in the front and they jostled amongst themselves.


    I gave Haziel a second glance back and the sad look in her eyes never left my mind as I stood at the very back. Crap, what do I do now? It must''ve seemed so rude to abandon her at the last moment.


    I bit my lips as I stood on my tip-toes to catch a glimpse of Haziel from the back, to see if she was doing okay. Right at that moment, the Marquess passed by my original spot and his eyes searched the faces amongst mine. Soon, his eyes came to rest upon me and his face instantly glowed up. I was f**ked.


    "Sh*t," I muttered bitterly as I tripped over my feet in my haste to run to the gardens. People gave me dirty looks as I pushed past them before the Marquess got to me. It seemed that he was already making his way to me because a loud murmur had started within the crowd and I heard shuffling behind me.


    The Marquess''s voice only confirmed my suspicions. "M''lady, wait a moment!" he was calling as I ran to the gardens.


    "Is it her?", "Is he asking for the girl in the green dress?", "Someone, catch that girl with the black hair!" were some of the murmurs I heard as I exited the Plaza and collapsed against a far wall attached to the garden.


    There was still jostling in the Plaza, and people were heard saying, "Where''d she go?", "Who was she?" inside. I put my knees up to my chest and made myself as small as possible.


    "Sven was right," I hissed at myself, my tone chastising. "He knew I wasn''t gonna be okay." Mama had been right, too. The Marquess really was smitten with me. I had made a mistake. I shouldn''t have come.


    As I sat in the silence of the garden, trying to block out all the distant, confused cries from inside the Plaza, I thought to myself: Why can''t I just catch a break?


    A heavy sigh escaped my lips. I rested my head on my knees and closed my eyes, focusing on the calm cricket sounds rather than the bustle of women in the Plaza. I was almost asleep, when I heard a heavy panting and then a groan.


    Startled, I jerked my head up and my eyes widened in horror as I recognized the moonlit figure of Marquess Huxley.


    "Found you," he said gently and under the moon''s guidance, I saw him smile.


    A lot of thoughts ran through my mind at once. Do I run away? Do I shout for help? Do I play dead? What do I do, dammit???


    Awkwardly, I inched away and nodded. "Uh, hi."


    In a boyish manner, Marquess Huxley flopped down beside me and sighed.


    "You didn''t think I''d follow you out, did you?"


    I shook my head. "No." My response was short. He waited for me to continue but I wanted to get the message across that I wasn''t in a position to get too frank.


    He folded his leg over the other, making himself comfortable on the dewy grass. "Well, why did you flee, then?"


    I shrugged. "I dunno."


    He chuckled softly. I peeked to my right and saw him looking up at the moon.


    "She''s beautiful, isn''t she?" he whispered, "The moon, I mean."


    I turned my face to look up as well, and this time, I was positive that the moon was smiling upon us. "Mm," I murmured and jerked my head towards the plaza. "The others must be looking for you."


    He shrugged as he wrung his white gloved hands. "Let them be. Competitive women are dangerous."


    Against all my silent vows to remain cold and distant, I laughed. Marquess Huxley flinched at my sudden change in composure and then grinned.


    "Finally," he murmured almost to himself. "You smiled."


    I was surprised at myself. "No," I said, reverting to my old self. "You must''ve been mistaken."


    Under the moonlight, I saw him raise an eyebrow, but he remained silent. By now, I could hear shouts of "Where is he? Where''d he disappear to?" inside the Plaza. Marquess Huxley must''ve heard them too because he shuffled uncomfortably.


    "Were you going to ask me to dance?" I said quietly, looking at the grass.


    He didn''t say anything for a while. Then, "Yes."


    I figured that much. His face had lit up at the sight of me the way it had when I had first chosen to dance with him at the Ceremony. I remembered those times fondly, the times I slept on a comfortable bed and ate the best food. The times I didn''t always need to hide.


    From the corner of my eye, I noticed Marquess Huxley was clenching his fists tightly, to the point it seemed uncomfortable even from here.


    "To be honest," he said suddenly, drawing in a deep, long breath. "I think it was love at first sight for me."


    I frowned. "With whom?"


    He turned to look at me, and even in the dark, I could feel the intensity of his gaze.


    "With you, of course."

 Chapter 79 - Confession

    Had I just been confessed to?


    "Pardon?" I asked, puzzled. "Did you just say-"


    "Yes," he said before I could complete my sentence.


    I blinked. "Huh?"


    All of a sudden, he took a hold of my hand. It happened so quickly that it took me a full minute to realize what he was doing.


    "I think I''m in love with you, M''lady," he claimed, squeezing my hand.


    All I could think of was him holding my hand. I wasn''t even looking at his face. With a tug, in a tiny voice, I said, "Let go, please."


    He held on for a moment or two before disappointedly letting go. I pulled my hand into the safety of my lap and held it there. He looked at me sadly, probably wondering if this was a rejection.


    "No, you can continue talking," I nodded. "Go ahead." I wanted to hear the interesting bits before I could decide upon something. After all, this was my first ever confession.


    He took a deep breath, gathering the nerve to continue. "Erm, wellˇ­ After I saw you at your house a few days ago, I couldn''t help thinking about you. It was as if you had invaded every nook of my mind. I couldn''t function properly and my father kept yelling at me for being clumsy, when I''m not usually so gauche. Honestly? The only face I had been searching in the crowd was yours, and you wouldn''t believe how ecstatic I was when I finally spotted you at the back of the crowd. For a moment, I had feared that you wouldn''t show up."


    He paused to gather his thoughts. It gave me a moment to think about my situation. There was no way I was gonna return his feelings. And there was absolutely no way I was going to engage in any kind of lovey-dovey stuff while being in the body of another person; I''m not that thoughtless. Anyways, I don''t believe in romance. Not in the real world. Comic books in the romance genre are another thing, totally. But let''s just keep them to fiction. And I''m sure I couldn''t ever commit to one partner. So why bother loving?


    He continued. "So, will you bless me by being my bride?"


    It was like a smack in the face. I had anticipated it, of course, but I never thought I''d be proposed to in a dark garden at nighttime with no one around. The sheer irony of it made me scoff.


    I was about to end things when I saw Haziel come running up to us.


    "Ashli!" she called, exasperated. "I can''t believe you! I knew you''d be here since I couldn''t find you anywhere else. What are you-" Then she paused as she caught sight of my acquaintance. "Oh! Oh, Marquess. I didn''t know..." She gave me a wide-eyed look at which I shrugged. "What are you both doing out here? Lord Huxley, everyone''s looking for you."


    "Ah," he groaned as he got up. "We were just heading inside." He offered me his hands and I reluctantly took it before standing up. The moment I was on my feet, I pulled my hand back from his and dusted the back of my dress, trying to imply that I had a use of my hands and I wasn''t plain rude to pull it away.


    "Then..." I said as I gave Marquess Huxley a sideways glance. He was looking hopeful, his mature eyes on me. Hastily, I caught up to Haziel and interlinked arms with her, hoping that Marquess Huxley wouldn''t ask to head inside together. People would think we''re a couple already! "Let us go inside."


    ?


    "Wait, where are you going?" Haziel hissed as I led her away. "Ashli-"


    "Out," I murmured. I can''t stay here anymore. I had run ahead with Haziel so we could wind our way out together. I was not gonna go through the whole ordeal of the Marquess asking me out, no way in hell.


    "But the dance is about to start!" she complained as I turned a corner, away from the ballroom. There was a door marked ''Restrooms'' right by us and I went in, Haziel in tow. I knew she was confused, but wait till I tell her what happened in the garden.


    "Are you hiding from someone?" she asked when we were finally inside. There was a line of sinks on one wall with similar 21st century cubicles against the other. Overhead the pristine white sinks were large mirrors, embedded securely in the white marble walls that lead down to matching floors.


    I sighed and looked at myself in the mirror, then trailed my eyes over to Haziel''s reflection behind me. Her arms were crossed and the look on her face was not pleasant.


    "Tell me," she said, frowning. "Are you hiding from the Marquess? Why? Did something happen in the garden?"


    I turned around and leaned against the edge of the sink. "Something like that."


    Her frown deepened. "So something did happen. He didn''t... He didn''t try to hurt you, did he?"


    "No," I muttered, shaking my head. "On the contrary, he confessed."


    A slight blush came over Haziel''s face. "Huh?"


    I smiled. This was gold. "He confessed his love. For me."


    The gape of her mouth couldn''t have been wider. I laughed and chucked her under the chin, telling her wordlessly to close her mouth.


    "Oh my God!" she squealed. "You''re not joking?" I shook my head, at which she did a little happy jump. I smiled, knowing that she was genuinely thrilled for me. "Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God! I can''t believe the word! Did you accept it?"


    "That''s the problem," I sighed as I put my hands to my face and groaned into them. "I was about to reject him when you came along."


    For a few minutes, nobody said anything. Haziel tilted her head in confusion, deeply thinking about what she may have done ill. "So..." she started. "So you don''t like him back? Wait, why? Didn''t you come here in hopes of being chosen as his wife?"


    I shrugged. "I don''t love him."


    She scratched her scalp, still thinking. "Um, so he still doesn''t know that, I gather?"


    I nodded. She pursed her lips.


    "Sorry for intruding earlier," she whispered apologetically, her hazel eyes sad.


    I waved a dismissive hand and chuckled lightly. "No, it''s alright. I think I''ve lightened up now. Shall we head back to the ballroom?"


    "Are you sure?" She fidgeted with her dress. "What if he asks you to dance in front of everybody?"


    "I''ll say no."


    She threw her hands in the air. "It''s not that easy, Ashli! People will talk ill about you for days to come!" I shrugged, unbothered. I didn''t care when I already was the talk of the town.


    Haziel sighed and went ahead to touch up her hair in one of the many mirrors. "Alright, then." She slightly turned to me. "Don''t say I didn''t warn you. Let''s hope he''s already picked someone else."


    I waited for her to finish and then we both walked outside together. Even before we had reached the main ballroom, we could hear music wafting through the air.


    "Good god, it''s as I suspected," Haziel muttered as she hastened her pace. "Now that we''re in the clear, let''s see who he''s dancing with."


    I, too, matched her speed and we fast-walked through the corridors, trying to follow the sound of music. Soon, we stepped foot in the ballroom and I noticed that everyone was standing against the walls, forming a large circle in the center. Haziel stood on her tiptoes, trying to get a look.


    "Is it just me or are there more women than before?" she whispered, turning to me. "Let''s go the other way around to the front of the crowd."


    Like an expert, Haziel moved like a mouse through the over watching crowd of women and soon enough, we merged at the near front. (Not in the exact front, since I stayed a row back so he wouldn''t notice my face in the first-rowers.)


    Matching Haziel''s enthusiasm, I struggled to get a look at who he was dancing with. On one side of the hall was a live orchestra (which I noticed first) and was playing a lovely piece of music, and since I knew nothing about music, I had no idea which artist they were playing. But still, it was amazing.


    Now looking to the left, I saw two people twirling in the middle of the ballroom. It was easy to recognize Marquess Huxley with his bright golden hair. But who was the lady in his arms? I squinted, trying to recognize her. Then it hit me: That chalky, white skin, those fox-like brown eyes and that deep black hairˇ­


    "Am I seeing things or is that Wendell?" Haziel turned around to me and pointed at the dancing pair. "That''s Wendell. Why is that Wendell?"


    I shrugged. So Wendell had been his second choice, huh? Or was the Marquess just insincere with his confession? Anyways, I wasn''t that bothered, since it meant the sooner the event gets over with, the sooner I can leave. Haziel, on the other hand, was appalled.


    "He''s got terrible taste," she murmured to me, shooting daggers with her eyes at Wendell as she danced. "Just look at her. She probably thinks she''s got him wrapped around her finger. Well, she better wait till I tell her that my friend here just received a confession from the man she fantasizes about. That''ll teach her, the snake."


    "C-Calm down," I said, putting a stable hand on her quaking shoulders as she continued to rant.


    She was still unsatisfied. Honestly, it would''ve made more sense if he had chosen to go with Haziel instead. The both would be the perfect couple, with their sunny personalities and all. I waited till the music came to an end and almost instantly, a buzz began in the crowd.


    Apparently, it was time for the Marquess to choose his next partner.


    Haziel held her hands and prayed into them. I, too, prayed that she would be picked. But it seemed that the Marquess was in no hurry as he stood on the dance floor, talking to Wendell with a grave face. I couldn''t hear them from so afar, but I could tell something was wrong.


    "What is he doing?" a woman beside me mumbled to herself as she craned her neck up to see.


    Then a moment later, Marquess Huxley walked in hurried strides over to the men playing the orchestra and whispered to them something only they knew best. After processing the Marquess''s words, their faces, too, took on grave expressions and they hurriedly got up and together, they walked away from their instruments.


    "My dear ladies," Marquess Huxley addressed everyone in the room, standing on the high platform where the orchestra was set. "It seems that we would unfortunately have to cut the event short. Stay safe and wait in the Plaza''s vicinity till your carriages arrive. Thank you for coming and I apologize for the inconvenience. Good night."


    With that, and no further explanation, he exited the ballroom and left behind a crowd of outraged women. Suddenly, the chandeliers shut down and the Plaza was doused in a void of darkness. It was as if they intended to lock us in.


    "What is going on?" Haziel cried amidst the chaos.

 Chapter 80 - Rumor

    I was in no position to calm anybody down, but I swear when I say I was probably the calmest person in the room then, I wasn''t lying.


    Everybody was screeching, either scared or outraged. Honestly, I was a bit shaken, too. Why had the event suddenly been called short? And the lights, too. Why had they been shut off? As every woman around me ran around and complained, while others wailed like children, I stood my ground as I thought about it. The Marquess''s demeanor had changed after he had conversed with that Wendell girl, and then he had proceeded to call everything off. What might she have said?


    I looked around as I tried to find Wendell, hoping that she''d be where she had previously been seen. But with all hell loose and the dark upon us, I couldn''t distinguish between anybody at all.


    "Ashli! Oh, Ashli!" I heard a familiar voice call out my alias. "Ashli, where are you?"


    It was Haziel, and it seemed like she was crying. She had been right in front of me a moment ago, but her voice was coming from almost across the hall..


    "I-I''m coming!" I yelled towards her, hoping she''d recognize my voice amidst the others. "Wait for me, Haziel!"


    Gathering the hems of my dress, I took a deep breath and began my journey across the ballroom. It was good that I had worn flat sandals or else I''d be on my face right now. On my long trek, I uncovered single shoes in my path, hair accessories, jewellery and something even I didn''t know about. Scrunching up my nose in disgust, I kicked it away from my path and hurried on, trying to find her.


    Haziel called again and I followed her voice, which seemed even farther now. I was positive I was heading in the right direction when I bumped against something large and soft on the floor and fell down.


    "Ouch!" the soft thing said.


    "Huh," I chuckled. "I should be the one saying that." Then I stood up and dusted my dress. "Get up," I said to the unfortunate girl sitting on the floor. "What are you doing there?"


    The girl remained silent but still, she took my hand to get to her foot. It was strange because I felt like I had heard her voice before, but then again, I wasn''t so sure. The moment I let go of her hand, she wobbled and collapsed again.


    I looked at her (though there was nothing to look at since all I saw was dark), "Um, what happened?"


    She gave a huge groan. "I think I''ve sprained my ankle. Would you be a dear and guide me to one of the benches?" She probably meant the benches attached to the walls in several corners of the room. Honestly, I wanted to say no, but since I had a big guilty conscience, I couldn''t help myself.


    "Alright then," I muttered as I put my arms under hers and pulled. ""Heave ho!"


    With extreme perseverance and by shouldering a huge weight on my shoulders, I led the girl blindly to a bench and sat her down. The amount of women I had to fend away from myself was more than one.


    "I''m leaving, then," I muttered when I was sure she was seated. "I''ll check back at you once the lights come on again." I turned my back to her so I could proceed once more to find Haziel when the woman with the sprained ankle gave out a loud laugh. A hyena laugh. I froze in my steps and cautiously, I turned around. "What?"


    She stopped laughing and sighed. "Well, you might never come to check back at me if that''s what you await. The lights are never going to turn back on, love. Not when I know why they were turned off in the first place."


    "Pardon?" I frowned. What the hell was she talking about?


    "Ah, so you are unaware," she said, her voice musical. "Not to worry, since most of these witches here don''t know either. Then shall I let you in on a secret? Promise not to raise havoc."


    I bit my lips. "Um, sure. I promise." I was definitely uncertain about this.


    The girl chuckled once again. "Alright, then. Here, bring in your ear."


    Though it was unnecessary, I did so and leaned closer to her. Despite the warmness of the ballroom, I could feel her even warmer breath dancing against my ear. She sure was taking her time.


    "The thing is..." the girl with the sprained ankle whispered. My eyes widened as I heard the following part of her sentence. "There are assassins in the area."


    Instantly, I pulled back. I hadn''t even noticed that my blood had run cold. "Must you joke about that?"


    "Oh, but I''m not," she said innocently. "How else would you explain him turning off the lights? It''s because the assassins are here to kill the Marquess, or his bride. Or both, if that''s what they prefer."


    I clenched and unclenched my hands. All around me, the voices of the other women had been blocked out. The only voice I could focus on was of the girl with the sprained ankle. Somewhere, I heard Haziel call for me again, but I didn''t call back. I needed to hear what this was about.


    "What are you talking about?" I said, gritting my teeth.


    The woman laughed again. That annoying laugh. It was really getting on my nerves now.


    "Assassins," she said after she had stopped. "There are people who don''t want him to get married, because that would mean him taking over the duchy of Notdale. Do you have any other reason as to why he had the Selection ball in a foreign empire rather than his own? He''s from the Lands of Sovia! People there hate him! They hate him so much that they swore they wouldn''t let him become the duke. All they needed to ensure it was that he either never got married," she paused, "or died."


    I scowled. "Why?" He seemed like a good enough person. "Why do they hate him?"


    The girl chuckled.


    "You don''t know?" she asked, her voice amused. "The moment you enter foot in the Lands of Sovia, you''ll hear all the rumors, love."


    I gulped. When did my throat become so starched? "What rumors?"


    She hummed a tune, clearly trying to make me wait. "Terrible Rumors. I couldn''t believe them when I first heard them. Good god, I was in shock for a few days.


    I gritted my teeth again. "What rumors?"


    I knew she was smiling. "Rumors that he killed his own brother to remove any competition for the duke''s title. Funny, isn''t it?"


    Funny? Should I have found that funny? Was the girl joking? A bead of sweat ran down my forehead, and my stomach felt like it was turning upside down. I felt sick. I wanted to get out of there. What was I even doing here in the first place?


    "Is this some sick joke?" I spat.


    "Not at all," she sang happily.


    "There''s no way he killed somebody. He''s a nice person." I was unconsciously defending him. Why? I wondered. He had nothing to do with me, and I had clearly intended to reject him, knowing he was a good enough person to find a better wife. But had I been wrong about him?


    "Some people are just seemingly nice," the girl shrugged. "If you still don''t know that, then it''ll be hard to survive in this world where survival is only ensured to the cleverest."


    "So if you knew he was a rumored murderer," it pained me to say the words, "why did you attend the ball?"


    The woman sighed. "It''s the biggest ball of the decade; as a social butterfly, how could I ever refuse?"


    This was not enough. "How did you know the assassins have already reached here?"


    She hummed another tune as she thought about how to respond. "Let''s just say my family has a long reach. I knew the assassins would be here even before they had arrived."


    I understand now. He had had the lights turned down so that it would seem as if the ball never happened. But how thoughtless had he been to have left all the women unsafe and exited himself when he knew about the height of the danger.


    "T-Then, what do we do now?" I asked, suddenly worried. "What if one of us gets hurt?"


    The girl chuckled, and I knew she was smiling a sinister smile despite the dark. What she said next left me appalled. It felt as if the ground had slipped away from under my feet.


    "Not. My. Problem," she spat.


    I gaped. "What the heck is wrong with you!?" I turned around and stared at everyone who was still present in the Plaza. I must do something, I thought to myself as a loud ringing sound began in my ear. Or else the assassins would attack.


    Crap, crap, crap, crap. What should I do?


    It suddenly felt like I was part of an action movie or something. And I was the hero, going to save the world from harm. It was as if the girl could hear my thoughts because she reminded me, "You promised not to raise havoc, remember? Don''t do something you know won''t go well. HEY! LISTENT TO ME-" But I was already running.


    Hastily, I ascended to the platform where the orchestra was still set and took a deep breath. I couldn''t fathom what I was about to do. Socially awkward me.


    "Listen up, everybody!" I bellowed into the ballroom. Nobody paused for me. It felt as if I was yelling into an empty void. Then I tried to remember how Jieum had once taught me to catch someone''s attention. She was telling me about how she had caught the attention of her favorite idol in a concert she went to.


    "They never look at you no matter how many times you call their names," she had muttered. "But guess what! I managed to get my favorite idol to look at me. You know what I did? I put my hands to my mouth, like this." She demonstrated it to me as we ate rice cakes after school. "And then I took a deep breath and called out a random, attention-catching thing. You know what I said? Guess, guess."


    I made a guess. "I dunnoˇ­''pork''?"


    She scoffed. "No. I said: ''YOU PREPOSTEROUS IDIOT, F**KING LOOK AT ME! DAMMIT!'' I''ll never forget the alarmed stare he had given me. It was as if we were in love."


    I put down my disposable cup of rice cakes and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Jieum, no. That''s horrible."


    ?


    I took a deep breath.


    "YOU PREPOSTEROUS IDIOTS, F**CKING LOOK AT ME! DAMMIT!"


    All of a sudden, the ballroom went silent. Pin. Drop. Silent.

 Chapter 81 - Shattered

    Should I just go and hide myself somewhere?


    What had I just done?


    Kill me.


    "Um..." I mumbled, hearing the sounds of my own heartbeat.


    How had all the shrieks just stopped? I had just called out once, for goodness'' sake, not knowing what would happen. But now that I had everyone''s attention, maybe I could help the situation.


    I could avoid us confronting the assassins.


    "Listen up, everybody," I bellowed, my voice penetrating through the hall.. "Nobody will fret over what I''m about to say. Unfortunately, it has come to my notice that there are assassins in the area, which is precisely why the ball was cut short."


    All of a sudden, a flood of murmurs spread through the crowd. Even though I couldn''t see anybody, I could just tell how worried they were.


    "Again, not to worry!" I assured, not knowing how to go about the matter. As I spoke, somewhere inside me, I knew I was being stupid. I knew I couldn''t save anybody. What if the girl had just been talking bollocks? There was no knowing if I was making a fool of myself, but then how else would someone explain the event being shut down like this? It was a suspicious matter, indeed.


    "Alright, listen to me!" I called again as the low murmurs evolved into loud mutters. Again, I had everyone''s attention. "Though I''m not much better than you all, I''ve devised a plan to save us all from the assassins. Here''s what we do..."


    Quickly, I told my plan while everyone listened silently. When I finished, the scrutinizing silence hung amongst us all.


    "Why should we trust you on this?" someone called from the crowd. It was a high pitched voice and very irritating. "How do we know if you''re telling the truth?"


    "Yeah!" others joined in. "How do we know if you''re not lying?"


    I stood on the platform, wringing my hands. I had expected it, in truth. Even I wouldn''t have believed myself if I was in their place. I mean, assassins at a ball? Who would''ve ever expected?


    "It''s true, there''s no way to prove that I''m truthful," I sighed. "But what have you all got to lose if we go through with this?"


    There was a silence of consideration.


    Then someone decided to speak up again. "But what if-"


    I think that''s when it happened. The shattering glass dispersed everywhere. Window after window exploded with the most ear shattering sound I had ever heard. Fear-filled screams filled the hall as the broken glass rained on the crowd, tearing through their skin in the process. Even though I was standing in the middle of the room, I felt glass fall on my head and with the speed it came charging at me, I felt the warm blood flowing down my cheek before I even felt the pain.


    "We''re under attack!" someone screamed. If I had thought all hell had broken loose before, this was a totally different level of hell.


    "Everyone, calm down!" I tried to diffuse the situation. "We must remain silent so that they would think the building''s empty! Everyoneˇ­!" But my calls were of no avail. Everyone was running around, screaming mindlessly. The shattered glass on the floor must be hurting those women who lost their shoes, I thought. Exploding the windows, huh? It really was a flashy way to announce their arrival.


    "SILENT!" I bellowed and the screams stopped at once, though there were a few sobs coming from somewhere within the crowd. Now that everyone was afraid and vulnerable, would my words hold more weight? "First step of our plan: We do not speak! At all! Make the enemy oblivious of your presence. Come on, everyone, hide under the shelter of the shadows."


    It was as if my words were magic. As soon as I shut my mouth, people were on their feet. I could tell since I heard the shuffling of feet. The amazing thing was that nobody said a word as shade from the moonlight was sought. With the windows broken, the moon shone its light inside more readily than before, and everyone came to be visible. Patiently, I waited while everyone was well hidden and jumped down from the platform.


    "Alright, good going, ladies," I called quietly, so as not to raise the assassins'' suspicions. "Everybody''s comfortable?"


    There were several mumbles of ''yes''.


    "Okay, now we lie in wait, hoping that the assassins would leave just as quickly as they arrived."


    "What if they decide to snoop around?" a girl with a gentle, scared voice murmured.


    "They''re not here for us," I said, determined. "They still think that the Marquess is inside the Plaza. We must prove he''s not. Maybe then they''ll leave us alone."


    Somewhere, someone scoffed. I turned, alert.


    "You''re not really planning to sit and have tea with them, are you?" the girl spat, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "They''re assassins! They won''t listen to reason when they''re annihilating all of us! Did you see how they blasted the windows-"


    "I know!" I cut in before she got any more hysterical. "What else can we do but hope? If you want, you''re welcome to walk out the door right now. Go on."


    We all knew what that meant. It was a suicide mission. Walking out the door meant running straight into the assassins'' hands, and apparently, nobody was willing to risk that.


    "Then do we just leave it to luck?" someone whispered.


    "I guess so," someone else replied.


    A heavy silence fell on everyone. I know that I had somehow made a motivational speech or whatever, but in truth, I was not confident in my words at all. At all! I could die tonight. Everyone here could die tonight. Only the future holds the anticipated turnout to that. And I sure do hope it''s in favor of us.


    That bastard, Marquess Huxley!


    ?


    Amice''s funeral was a small one, not even coming in comparison to the Crown Princess''s grand departure.


    As Reynard stood on the dry grass, wearing his blackest coat, no words could have described the anguish he felt over the loss of his dear mother.


    The grave was patchy and unshaped, the dome not looking quite like a dome. Reynard had paid instead of his father for the funeral proceedings, with the only attenders being him, his father, Rosa, Aunt Faustine and her kids. Everyone wore similar expressions on their faces, twisted with grief and pain, except Cael who had no idea what was going on.


    The funeral attenders prayed for the well-being of the deceased''s soul and for it to protect them in their lives.


    "Are you alright, dear?" Faustine asked sadly as she patted Reynard on the back. "Want some hot milk back at my place?"


    "Thank you, Aunty. I''m okay," he replied limply.


    Faustine looked at his face worriedly. "It''s only been one day and you look so weak, hon. You need some food in you. And would you look at those eye bags? Are you getting sleep at all?"


    Reynard didn''t reply to any of those questions, for he was too tired.


    "I''ll manage, Aunty," he murmured as he turned away in fear that his face would crumple again.


    Rosa overheard them talking and came over after praying over her mother''s grave.


    "I''m looking after him, Aunt Tina, so you''ve got nothing to worry about." She smiled, her porcelain face looking bare and whiter than usual. The color had vanished. "I''ll make sure to feed him night and day. I''ll sing him lullabies like mother used to sing in case he won''t sleep, too."


    Faustine smiled and patted Rosa as well. "Don''t be too hard on yourself, love. If you can''t handle all the work, call me over anytime."


    Rosa frowned. "Who''ll take care of Cael, then?"


    Faustine shrugged, not really worried. "That''s what I birthed Lennard for."


    "Hey!" Lennard called from afar.


    "Shut up, Lennard."


    Rosa chuckled and Faustine smiled tenderly, happy that not all was lost. She was just as grieved by Amice''s death as her children, but she knew that in the afterlife, there would be a very special someone waiting to greet Amice in her arms.


    "Take care of her, Lissy, won''t you?" she whispered to the skies.


    "Let''s leave, everybody!" Simon called everyone. "And no talking in the cemetery; we must never disturb the dead."


    "Psshh, yeah," Lennard muttered as he walked beside Reynard with his hands in his pockets. "He''s the one yelling here. Seriously, your dad''s so weird. I was shocked to see him after all these years. He looks nothing like he did a couple years ago."


    Reynard didn''t respond in any way as he walked down the stone path and out the cemetery gate. Lennard looked at him and frowned, nudging him with his shoulder.


    "Cheer up, mate!" he said lightly. "It all goes uphill from here."


    "Mm."


    Lennard sighed. "I''ve lost a father, remember? I know what you feel, Reyn, believe me. Come on, I''ll treat you to some grilled fish. You like that, right?"


    "Mm."


    Both of them went one way while Faustine insisted on accompanying Rosa to their house.


    "Let me help clean," she said as she walked alongside Rosa. Her father was way up ahead with Cael on his shoulders. "And let''s all have dinner together. Maybe that''ll help cheer everybody up."


    "Thank you, Aunt Tina. Really, you''re a godsend."


    Faustine laughed and told happy stories about her academy life with her two friends all the way home. It was a bittersweet funeral, but it was soon to be forgotten, for time heals all wounds. At least, that''s what they all hoped for.

 Chapter 82 - God Forbid

    Everyone held their breaths as we waited in the dark.


    "Are they coming?" someone whispered beside me.


    "Shh!" came the reply from her companion. "If you don''t shut up, they''ll be here faster than you can say ''Good Lawd''. Now sit still, Lily. And get off of my foot, you''re crushing me."


    This followed with a bit of shuffling and then an ''Ow!'' After that, all went silent again. I felt a drop of sweat fall onto my bosom as I waited in the dark, hoping the glass shattering was as far as the assassins would go. There really was no knowing what God had in store for us.


    While I lay in anticipation, crouched on the floor beside a large vase, I thought about the girl who had warned me to begin with. Her voice was familiar, I know that.. But who had she been? And why the hell did she not leave when she had the chance to?


    I scratched my head in confusion, and that''s when I heard the faint crunching of footsteps. Footsteps on grass. Others must''ve caught the barely audible sound as well because I felt the girl beside me- Lily- go rigid. The assassin, or rather, assassins, were here.


    Any soft murmuring went completely dead, and everyone held their breaths, trying to flatten themselves against the walls. From my point of view, I could see no one at all. Even though the glow of the moonlight shone from the windows, the only reassurance that I was not alone came from the trembling girl beside me.


    I bit my lips, hoping the footsteps would fade away, but they kept coming nearer and near, the crunch, crunch, crunch of grass beneath their feet becoming more audible by the second. At one point, I knew they were outside the window closest to me. Well, someone was.


    I gave a shaky breath and gulped. God, I know I''ve been a bit dumb up till now but please don''t let them come in. Please, please, please.


    "Is this the right place?" The voice was gruff and low, but I could still make out the words. The people outside the window had started to talk.


    "That''s what the boss told us," came another voice. "I''m sure there was an event happening here an hour ago."


    "Well, it''s not now, is it? Where''s my hand cannon?"


    A bit of shuffling and tinkling was heard. "Right here, Sid. When did you say were the rest coming?"


    "They were right behind us. I think they stopped for a water break. It''s been a long journey after all. And what for? There''s no selection ball like the boss told us about. What a waste of our resources."


    "Calm down, Sid, let me go and check inside. What if it''s just an act to throw us off? Boss''s rarely wrong, y''know."


    With that, a tall, lean figure hopped in through the window with commendable skill, not once touching the sharp glass edges still hanging off of the window borders. I felt like I was going to puke. Or faint. My head was spinning, as if indicating my near death. I couldn''t imagine what the rest of them must be feeling, considering if they already hadn''t dropped unconscious. These noble women were fragile.


    The tall man gave a look around for a while, walking comfortably into the middle of the ballroom floor. At first I had thought that he seemed dark because of the night, but the closer he came, the more I noticed that he was dressed in all black, probably to take easy cover under the night. Closerˇ­ Crap, he was coming closer!


    I gulped and made no movements, scared that he''ll detect the motion despite it being barely visible. God, please. Not now. I can''t die now. Not after I''ve went above and beyond to save myself in the first place.


    "You were right, Sid, it''s empty in here," the figure turned back and hopped back outside through the same window he had used to come inside. "But it''s strange, isn''t it? I could''ve sworn I heard people talking about the ball on our way here. Could it be that the murderer anticipated our arrival?"


    Sid chuckled. "He may have been smart enough to kill the heir and get away with it, but I don''t think he knew we would cross the border just to complete the dirty deed. Sadly, I''ll have to say you might be right." There was a slight pause. "Oh, look. Here comes Klyn. OI, KLYN! MISSION FAILURE!"


    "Whaaat!" came a faint reply, way away from the Plaza.


    "MISSION FAILURE!" Sid called again. "Gosh, he''s as deaf as a rock. Shall we return then?"


    "Alright," the other guy replied. As they left together, I heard him ask, "Where we staying tonight?"


    "An old favorite inn of mine. It''s far, but we won''t regret it. Gather the men!"


    They must''ve joined up with Klyn because we heard a new voice. Soon, the seemingly innocent chatters faded into the distance, till they were no more.


    I waited a few more moments, just in case they had been playing a trick on us and some of their men were still outside, hiding. But after ten minutes, it seemed like they had gone for good.


    "It''s safe," I called out as I slid out of my spot, my throat dry and scratchy. "We can get up now."


    Slowly, but reluctantly, girls in crumpled ball gowns emerged from the darkness. Some fell about, faint, while some clutched others in their arms to soothe them of the trauma. There were sniffs and sobs all over.


    "Ashli!" someone called for my name. It was Haziel.


    "I''m here!" I called back, but before my sentence had even finished, she came running into my arm. "Oof, easy there." I smiled fondly. "Are you okay?"


    As soon as she knew I wasn''t going anywhere, she burst into tears.


    "Easy, easy.... It''s okay, they''re gone now."


    She blubbered, "I was so scared! Oh, I was so scared!" She gasped and wheezed in my arms, proving how fragile she really was. I patted her head softly.


    "It''s okay now," I said calmly, sighing a sigh of relief. Then I turned to the crowd. "Shall we all head home, then? Go out one by one, and stay cautious of your surroundings, and you''ll be back in no time."


    ?


    "So how was it?" Sven asked. He had returned exactly one and a half hours after he had dropped me off, with the same carriage (believe it or not).


    "How was what?"


    "The ball! Did you have a good time?" I could tell he was curious by the way he leaned forward in his seat, his eyes wide. "Did he choose a bride, then?"


    I shrugged. If I say ''yes'', he''ll ask me who it is and I''d have no answer. If I said ''no'', he''d ask me why and I''d still have no answer. It''s not like I could tell him about the assassins; he''d burst.


    "And why is there glass in your hair?" he asked as he removed something from my head. I flinched away from him and he stared at me, alarmed. "What?"


    "N-Nothing," I uttered, my voice an awkward croak. "And um, it''s not glass." What do I say!? "Small pieces of confetti, maybe."


    He tilted his head in clear disbelief, but decided to stay silent. There was a sudden bump in our ride and I held onto my seat.


    "So who did he decide to marry?"


    I chuckled. "Why so interested?"


    He shrugged, leaning back in his seat. "Selection balls are a rare occurrence. So I''m curious if he got anything good out of it."


    I strained a wrinkle on my dress, worried that Mama would think I ruined her dress. "I think I was in the restroom while he proposed. So I don''t know."


    "What??" he scoffed, disappointed. "What rotten luck. Anyways, we''ve got some visitors back home."


    I looked up. "Visitors?"


    Sven nodded. "That''s right. Just thought I''d give you a head''s up. It''s some old customer she used to know in her inn days. He decided to turn up with a few of his friends out of the blue, saying he came all this way just to meet her again. Mama couldn''t refuse letting them in."


    I frowned. Something in what he said seemed suspicious to me, but I couldn''t point at it.


    "How many people?"


    "Six," he replied.


    I scowled. "Six? But there are only five free rooms."


    Sven muttered something under his breath.


    "What?"


    "Mama says we''ll have to share."


    I tilted my head, puzzled. "Share what?"


    He sighed and looked me in the eye. I pulled my face back, suddenly afraid. "Rooms. We''ll have to share for the night."


    I guffawed, appalled. "You''re kidding." He firmly shook his head. "You''re not kidding? Well, hell! I''ve got dibs on the bed."


    He frowned. "Aren''t you... Aren''t you disturbed by that?"


    I shook my head. "Why would I be? We''re friends. Sharing for one night won''t be so bad. You''ll just have to sleep on the floorboards, with all the creepy crawlies."


    He sighed and put a hand over his eyes, putting his head back. "The creepy crawlies are the least of my worries..."


    "Huh?"


    "Nothing."


    I looked at him for a minute, and then my thoughts instantly returned to my unlucky night. Oh, how could I ever have known that the seemingly nice Marquess Parr Huxley would turn out to be a murderer. God forbid. I sighed heavily and Sven removed his hand from his face, worried.


    "Are you sure you''re okay?"


    "Yep!" I exclaimed extra cheerfully. "After this long night, I can''t wait to get back and have a peaceful night."


    .


    .


    .


    I couldn''t have been more wrong.

 Chapter 83 - The Visitors

    "Do you want help getting off?" Sven asked as he stood by the carriage''s door. "You almost fell last time."


    "Nonsense," I muttered. "Away you go, I can do this by myself."


    "Sure." He shrugged and walked three feet away. "Hop out, then."


    I frowned at him. He clearly didn''t trust me. Oh, I''ll show him then. Oh yes I will. With a careful foot on the little steps that led out, I emerged from the carriage.. I had intended to put my second foot on the second step but it slipped on the brass and I tumbled down on my face.


    "Ow!" I groaned as I held my nose. Three steps away, Sven had erupted into laughter.


    "Are you okay?" he gasped as he came to my aid. "I told you. You should''ve taken my help."


    I pulled my arm free from his hand and stood up on my own. "Gee, how thoughtful of you." I dusted my dress down and noticed there was a small rip in the skirt. "Ah, lord. I''ve done it now. Mama''s gonna kill me."


    Sven laughed and paid the impatient carriage driver. As soon as he drove away into the distance, I stretched my arms above my head and sighed. Sven was already knocking on the inn''s door.


    "Don''t you have a key?" I asked as I came to stand beside him.


    He shook his head. "She never gave me one. And I don''t need it anyways since I rarely go out. She said she''ll open the door for me when I get home, so there''s no need to worry."


    "Oh. Okay."


    We waited for a few minutes but when nobody came to answer the door, Sven knocked again. There was a sudden eruption of laughter inside and then a few unknown voices overlapped each other, seemingly having an animated conversation.


    "The visitors?" I asked, looking questionably at Sven. He nodded, looking at the door.


    "Um, I think they''re talking. That''s why they can''t hear us."


    "No," I said, sighing. "It''s because you knock so lightly. Here, let me do it." I pushed Sven to the side and rapped at the door as hard as I could. Our old apartment in Daegu hadn''t had a doorbell, so whenever I came back from somewhere, I always had to hurt my knuckles while knocking for minutes and minutes. It always took time for someone to answer the door and let me in, because everybody hated answering the door. Even I did. There was no knowing if there were debt-collectors here for Mom or if some past boyfriends had come to confront any of my sisters.


    "Good God, you''re gonna have bruises on your knuckles in the morning," Sven fretted. "Don''t do that again."


    I scowled but didn''t say anything. A moment later, we heard a ''click'' and the creak of the door on its hinges as it pulled back.


    "Buh-loody hell," Mama rasped as she peeked out at us, taking a moment to recognize our faces. "Break this door, why don''t you both? Come on in." She walked back inside and left the door open for us. Sven and I shrugged at each other and went inside.


    What had I expected? I had imagined seeing a family and their kids or something of the sort, or maybe some sweet looking villagers, coming to stay with Mama at her inn (which was out of business, by the way). But unexpectedly, I was introduced to six tall, burly looking men dressed in similar black clothes.


    They all sat around the little table on crates, except for two who stood leaning against one wall. The room was eerily lit by wax candles, and the six golden-lit face turned to look at the two new arrivals.


    I ducked my head, scared to look at any one of them.


    "Ah, Svenny boy, who''s this little kiddiewinkle?" someone asked, his voice loud and booming.


    "She''s a friend," Sven muttered frostily.


    "Ohhhhhhh," they all drew it out. "We see what''s happening here!" Then they all burst out laughing. Confused, I peeked at Sven, and even in the low illumination, I could tell that he was blushing profusely. I sighed.


    I was about to clear away any unnecessary misconception, when Mama thwacked the guy who had raised the question on the head. "Behave yourselves. All of you. She''s staying here for the meantime and that''s that. Don''t put stupid things into my kids'' heads."


    I felt warm thinking that Mama had called me her kid, even though I was just a strange princess who was probably a burden on her. Still, I felt immensely happy.


    Sven shuffled past me and headed upstairs, leaving me alone by the door. Slowly, I scanned each of the six faces cautiously. The guy who had spoken first had a long scar on his face that ran from his forehead, over his eyes and down to the corner of his mouth. It was red and puckered, as if it hadn''t healed all the way yet.


    "Go change," Mama ordered me as she carried some plates into the kitchen. "And then come back downstairs."


    Gratefully, I complied and winded my way past the men dressed in black. As I reached the stairs, I noticed from the corner of my eye that one of the men standing against the wall was staring at me, and quite intently at that. His lower half of the face was covered by a piece of cloth that extended from the turtleneck type shirt he wore. It looked exactly like a cosplay of that anime character in Naruto, but without the white spiky hair and one eye covered.


    Self consciously, I walked past him , feeling the burden of his eyes boring holes into my back. As soon as I was on the steps, I made a run for my room. Behind me, the laughter started again as I just about closed the door to my room.


    "God, that was awkward," I muttered as I slipped out of Mama''s (ruined) wedding dress and slipped back into the long white tunic, clinched at the waist with a belt. I pulled out all the pins in my hair and let them flow down to ease the agony of the scalp. I folded up the dress and hid it under my bed sheet before heading down again.


    "Look who''s back!" the man with the scar on his face called as I descended the stairs. "What''s your name, kiddiewinkle?"


    "Ashli," I murmured, distracted by the masked man again. I avoided meeting anybody''s gaze and hurried off to the kitchen where Mama was putting a pot on the stove.


    "Good. You''re here" she sighed and wiped off the sweat from her forehead when I came in. "Get the cups out of the cupboard and rinse them, will you. We need to serve a lotta tea today."


    I nodded and got to work while the men still talked and laughed outside. "Who are they?" I asked as I pulled matching cups out of the cupboard.


    "That guy with the scarred face used to be an old customer whenever he visited the area. Despite all the other inns in the area, he always insisted on staying here, at my little place. Made me swell with pride, y''know?" she chuckled as she watched the milk boil. "Though I did find it strange of him to come over uncalled for. And with all his fellas, too. Gosh, we''ve only got rations for three people in the house, but we gotta make it work."


    I listened to Mama rant as I arranged all the cups neatly in a tray and then stared at the counter, no thoughts running through my mind. I felt... blank.


    "...li. ASHLI!"


    I jerked awake from my daze. "Huh?"


    "The tray." Mama sighed. I looked down at the tray before me and all the cups were already filled with piping hot tea. Had she poured the tea in without me noticing? "Bring the tray out."


    Carefully, I picked the tray up and without even spilling a single drop, I took it outside and put it on the table.


    "Hey, thanks!" Scar-Face said.


    "Mm," I mumbled as I backed away against a wall, opposite to the wall where the two men stood, leaning.


    Mama smacked Scar-face on the head again as she brought in a plate of biscuits. "At least introduce yourselves."


    "Oh, right." Scar-Face muttered, not even flinching at the smack. Beaming, he turned to me. "Hi, my name''s Sidmund Warin and these are my pals- Ben, Lloyd, Klyn, Hector and Alan." He pointed at each face before reciting the names. So the masked man was called Klyn. Huh, what a familiar name. I wonder where I heard it from.


    "Hm," Mama seemed to approve. Then she sat down on a crate. "So why are you all here again?"


    Sidmund scratched his head. "Uhh... we had a job out here. Anyways, these cookies are delicious, Ma. Did you bake them yourself?"


    "No."


    "Oh."


    Several other topics came up in the conversation passing between the men and Mama, but the whole time, Klyn didn''t speak a word. That''s when I remembered. Sidmundˇ­ Sidˇ­ Klyn...


    ˇ­


    ˇ­.


    No way.


    Now heckin'' way.


    My sudden gasp made everyone turn to me and the laughter died out.


    "You alright?" Mama asked, frowning. "You look like you''ve seen a ghost."


    I might very well have. Thisˇ­ These people! What were they doing here!? God, please prove me wrong, please, please, please.


    How do I tell Mama? How do I warn her?


    We''ve assassins in the inn.


    And they had freaking hand cannons. (I have no idea what hand cannons are, but the word ''cannons'' is enough for me to understand that they''re dangerous.)


    Scar-Face- Sid- looked at me. They all looked at me. From my expression, I''m sure they all knew something was wrong with me.


    "I-I-I''ll be upstairs, then," I stuttered as I hobbled past the table and hurried upstairs without any further explanation. Mama called me back but I didn''t reply. I shut the door to my room and flopped down on my bed.


    "Crap..."


    Oh God, why do you always put me in such difficult situations?

 Chapter 84 - Spilling The Tea

    I knocked on the door.


    "Just a minute," came a faint reply from inside. Even though I was nervous a heck, I waited patiently outside, letting him finish whatever he was doing. A moment later, he pulled open the door, dressed in a casual shirt and trousers. His hair was slightly wet and so was his face.


    "I have to tell you something," I whispered, glancing a quick look at the stairs.


    He frowned. "Um, sure..." He pulled back the door further and let me in. "What is it?"


    Hesitantly, I trotted into his room. I noticed that there was a bowl of water and a flannel next to it on his bedside table. He probably used it to clean himself. The rest of his room was dark and only a small candle which was about to die out sat in a wax filled silver plate on the floor.


    He flopped down on his bed and waited for me to start talking, giving me a questionable look. I took a deep, shaky breath to gather my brains before I spoke.


    "It''s about the people downstairs. They... Theyˇ­ We should ask them to leave."


    He tilted his head, puzzled. "What? Why?"


    I raked a hand through my hair, not sure how to tell him. Should I tell him in the first place? But if I do, he''ll ask how I know, and then I''ll have to explain about the whole episode at the ball. He''ll burst. I know he will.


    "Theyˇ­ They''re bad people!" I whispered, casting a quick glance behind me. I''d heard that assassins were used to being quick on their feet and good at masking their presence; I wouldn''t know if one of them was right behind me.


    Sven frowned. "Bad people? In what sense?"


    I put my hands to my face and dragged them down, groaning. "Just- I know you''ll fret a lot when I say it, so I don''t want to say it."


    He narrowed his eyes. "What? Tell me."


    I bit my bottom lips, my eyes searching the floor for help. But the floor gave no answers, no aid whatsoever. Sighing, I looked up at Sven who was giving me a worried look now.


    "Assassins!" I whispered, in case my voice floated downstairs.


    "What?"


    "They''re assassins!"


    "Huh?"


    "ASSASSINS!" I hissed, looking worriedly at the door. "They''re assassins, Sven, murderers! There are murderers in our house!"


    He frowned. "Um, you didn''t drink at the ball, did you? I didn''t smell anything on you earlier, though."


    I threw my hands up in the air. "I''m not drunk!"


    He folded his arms. "Then why are you blurting out such far-fetched hogwash? Look, I know they may seem intimidating, what with the black clothes and the scars and all, but there''s no way these people could be assassins. Mama''s known Uncle Sidmund for ages! And so have I. He''s not a bad guy."


    I scoffed. "How does that make him not an assassin? If he ever took on such a job, he surely wouldn''t go around telling everybody, would he?"


    Sven shook his head. "Why are you even blaming them for being assassins in the first place? You just met them, and they haven''t done anything suspicious as of yet. Then why? What''s the trigger?"


    I turned around and put my forehead against the wall.


    "Tell me!" Sven said behind me. "I believe you have your reasons. You''re not stupid enough to go around blaming people of such offensive tripe without having one."


    I groaned. My head had begun to hurt, the pain much worse now. I tried to think straight, contemplating whether I should tell him about the events at the ball or not. Eventually, I turned around.


    "You remember the Marquess, don''t you?"


    He nodded. "That blonde guy?"


    "Yes, that one. Apparently, he killed his brother for the title of future duke. Pretty messed up, I know."


    "Wait, really?" Sven leaned forward, suddenly interested. "But he acted no less than a cheeky noble man."


    I shrugged. "The people of Sovia want him dead for that very reason, calling him unfit for the possession of the duchy. The only thing left for him to take over his father''s title was marriage, and since there was no way the people in Sovia would''ve allowed him to do so in his own country, he decided to do it here, in Wisteria."


    "But why a Selection ball, then?" Sven interrupted. "Couldn''t he have just found a girl to have a private ceremony with?"


    "Tradition, most likely." I shrugged. "I heard someone raise the same question at the ball."


    "Is that so?" he muttered as thoughts ran through his mind. He frowned as he looked up to me. "So the people sent assassins after him? How do you know all this? And how do you know the assassins were the same as the people downstairs?"


    I took a deep breath and patted at the sweat forming on my forehead. "They were there, at the ball." Sven''s eyes widened in alarm. "They shattered the windows and everythingˇ­ and they have hand cannons, too. I heard them call each other by the names Sid and Klyn, and they were wearing black clothes. too. "


    Sven looked at the floor, trying to digest this information. I could see the wheels turning in his head as he put 2 and 2 together. Soon, a look of utter shock passed his face.


    "Wait, why didn''t you tell me earlier?" he hissed. "You said everything went okay at the ball!"


    "I lied, okay?" I threw my hands in the air again. "I knew you''d fret, just like you are now."


    He looked at me as if I had gone crazy. "Yes, shouldn''t I? You don''t just hide such important information from people! Did anybody get hurt?"


    I shook my head. "No, thankfully not."


    He stood up and paced the floor, his hand on his chin in thought. "That''s a relief," he murmured. "But why would Uncle Sidmundˇ­ No, I can''t believe it! I didn''t think- I haven''t-" Then he looked at me. "Are you serious?"


    I nodded. "I am. I''m certain it''s them, Sven."


    "Who''s them?"


    The door creaked open and two of the black dressed men stood in the doorway. I noticed Klyn at the back, and near the front was the man who had been sitting beside Sidmund at the table.


    I looked back at Sven and he gave me a nervous shrug. Dang, we were both in a pickle here.


    .


    .


    .


    "My name''s Ben," said the man next to Klyn.


    "Uhh..." Sven faltered. "Do you need help with something?"


    Ben glanced back at Klyn, then shrugged. "Nah, we were just looking at the rooms. Seems that you''ve cleaned them well, eh, Sven?"


    He chuckled awkwardly, then nudged me. I stood, stiff as a board, not knowing what to do or how to react. Cautiously, my eyes wandered down to Ben''s pocket and the angular bulge in there could have very well been a hand cannon. He could kill us in a second if he felt like it, I thought, sweating profusely.


    I nudged Sven back. He didn''t react.


    "Why don''t you kids come downstairs?" Ben asked, putting his hands on his hips in an animated way, the expression on his face amused. "Take part in the discussions and all, isn''t that right, Klyn?"


    Klyn plainly nodded.


    "Uh, we appreciate it, Uncle Ben," Sven muttered as he looked at me. "We''ll be down in a moment."


    "Sure, sure~" Ben laughed and looked between us in a suggestive way. "Take your time, kids. Oh, to be young~"


    With that, he turned to leave. Klyn took a moment or two to follow him down, giving us both a look of seeming contempt before leaving, too.


    "Phew," Sven deflated as soon as they left. "I thought I was going to burst. Do you think they heard our conversation?"


    I shook my head as I picked the candle off of the floor, the wick just about to drown in a puddle of wax. "Doesn''t seem like it. What do we do now?"


    Sven scratched his neck as he stared at the dying flame in my hand. "I don''t know. Should we tell her, at least?"


    "Not yet. Let''s wait till everyone goes to bed."


    He thought for a moment. "Okay."


    As the black, burnt wick drowned into wax, we trotted downstairs where everyone still sat or stood in their usual spots, except Mama who was nowhere to be seen.


    Ben beamed when he saw us descending the stairs. "Oh, you''re back. Make way, Sid, let the kids sit."


    The way Ben said ''Sid'', I realized that he had been the one who had hopped in through the broken window back at the Grandeur Plaza. He was the one who had surveyed the area. Even the thought made me shudder.


    Sidmund and Ben shuffled to one side and pulled forward two crates for both me and Sven to sit down on. Carefully, I sat on the one closest to the wall while Sven flopped down on the one next to Sidmund.


    "So since when have you been here?" Sidmund asked, addressing me. "Ashli? Was that your name?"


    I nodded. "Um, it''s been almost a month."


    All of them ''Ahhh''ed''. "Is that so?" Sidmund muttered as he sipped on his cup of tea. "What happened to your own abode?"


    "Ermˇ­ my mother''s sick and admitted to the health center in town. Since I was all alone at home, Mama offered to accompany me since she is, after all, a family friend."


    "Is that so?"


    "Yes."


    While all of them pondered over it, Sven gave me a kick under the table. I pinched his arm, away from the sights of everyone else and Sven winced with dull pain.


    "You okay, lad?" Ben asked Sven, worried.


    "Yep," he muttered as he glared at me. If we hadn''t been stuck in this situation, I would''ve even laughed. But I didn''t, since we were in no position to be extra frank. We were surrounded by assassins. Whatever could we let slip?

 Chapter 85 - A Cold Dusk

    [The Gradral Household]


    Only a day had gone by since Amice''s funeral, but the atmosphere of utter grief had yet to be lifted off of the Gradral household.


    Reynard shuffled past his mother''s bed and slid down all the empty or half-empty medicine bottles into a wastebasket. He put the basket on the floor and turned to make his mother''s bed. It had been creased and messed up when her body was being lifted to be taken to the mortuary so that it could be treated for the burial. He had been one who had lifted her, and since it was his fault that his mother''s bed had become messy, it was given that he made it as well.


    Tenderly, Reynard lifted the sheet his mother had used to cover herself with and carefully folded it into four sections before laying it neatly at the foot of the bed. Then he smoothed out all the wrinkles on the sheet she had laid on.


    Just when he thought the white sheet looked perfectly pristine, a drop of water fell on the edge of it. Reynard gazed at it as the drop absorbed into the sheet, leaving behind a dark grey mark which would soon evaporate away. He had yet to realize that the drop of water had in fact been released from his own tear ducts.


    He lay next to his mother''s bed like the way he always used to when she was alive, and put his head against the bed''s frame. It was no time to cry, he decided for himself. He still needed to clean the rest of the room.


    He groaned as he stood off the floor and pulled out the drawer of the nightstand his mother insisted on keeping by her side.


    "In case I need to put something there," she had said, stroking her son''s head.


    Reynard''s face crumpled as he remembered his mother''s touch. Gathering himself with a deep sigh, he fingered through the components in the drawer, which included a small, empty vial of some sort, a few spare coins, torn out medicine labels, a random spoon and a piece of paper shredded into bits.


    Confused, Reynard picked out the small pieces of paper with ragged edges and collected them into the palm of his hand. Oneˇ­ Twoˇ­ Threeˇ­ Fourˇ­ There were 8 pieces in total.


    Reynard frowned when he saw thin strokes of blue ink on the individual rips of parchment, as if something had been written on them. Hastily, Reynard slid the drawer back into place and got working on arranging the pieces of paper to form the original note.


    Soon, after putting his mind to arranging the little pits like a child does when solving a  jigsaw puzzle, Reynard finally started to recognize the smooth curves of his mother''s handwriting. The sight made him teary again.


    Then he sighed and tried to read the hurried scribbles. He mouths the words as he scanned them, puzzled by what they meant.


    ''My sweet boy,


    I hope you get what was always rightfully yours to begin with. Fight for it, and let it not slip away from your hands. I love you.''


    Reynard frowned. What was rightfully his to begin with? What does that mean?


    He heard a sudden clatter outside his mother''s room, and hastily, he put the individual scraps of paper into his pocket before he ran out to check what had happened.


    "Ermˇ­ I tripped," said his sister when he discovered her on the floor with a broken plate near her feet.


    "You should be more careful," he muttered as he crouched down to gather the broken ceramic. "These were Mother''s favorite plates."


    "Don''t touch them; you''ll cut yourself!" Rosa chastised as she slapped Reynard''s hands away from the shattered plate. "I''ll do it. I think I tripped over that bit of loose floorboard over there. We should really get that fixed."


    Reynard''s eyes trailed over to where his sister was pointing, and indeed there was a loose floorboard inching upwards at one end because of a loose screw.


    "I''ll hammer it by tonight."


    "Thanks, Reyn." Then Rosa looked up to see where her brother had emerged from, and saw her late mother''s room slightly open. "What were you doing in Mother''s room?"


    "Hmm?" Reynard looked up to see his sister looking at him inquiringly. "Oh. Just...cleaning."


    "Is that so?"


    "Mm."


    It was evident that Reynard had been distraught after their mother''s passing away, but she had hoped he''d go back to his usual self in a day or two. She now realized that the grief was much more deeply embedded into his heart than what she had thought. He had become rather...dull. His usual happy, sparky self had yet to reemerge, and Rosa kept praying that it would happen more quickly.


    She couldn''t bear seeing her brother acting so limp and lifeless all the time.


    "Why don''t you go out and have some fun?" Rosa suggested, trying to mask her concern as she acted as cheerful as she could, given the situation. "How about eating out with some friends? Orˇ­ I know! Why don''t you go horse riding at the grounds! You love horse riding, don''t you?"


    "Rosa-"


    "Remember that black horse you so loved when you were a bit younger? I bet they still have him in the stables at the riding grounds. You even named him, remember? Coal, was it?"


    Reynard sighed. "Rosa, listen to me. Please. I''m alright, I really am. I want to have dinner with you and father tonight, so I''d rather not eat out. Where''s father anyways?"


    Rosa gathered the broken bits of plate and stood up, putting them on the table. "I think he went out for a drink with some of his friends at that old pub he always used to go to."


    "Uncle Franke''s place?"


    Rosa nodded. "You should go get him since dinner''s almost ready. If he''s drunk, he''ll need someone to get him home. You know how he is."


    Reynard almost chuckled as he remembered the past drunk episodes of his father. Almost.


    "Okay, then," he murmured as he put on a hide jacket hung on a nail near him. As he opened the front door, a cold gush of wind greeted him, making him shudder. "In and out in a minute."


    ?


    The streets of Eyress seemed colder than how he remembered them to be. With his hands deep in his pockets, he walked swiftly through the main road where there used to be stalls on either side, stall keepers announcing their products every few minutes. Chaos, really, with all the people bargaining the seemingly high prices and the kids running through the crowd, either playing games or being chased down by stall keepers for stealing an apple.


    But after the funeral ceremony of the Crown princess so dear to people, the people had removed their stalls as a sign of mourning. Only a few remained.


    "Is that Simon''s son? Oi, Lori, it''s Simon''s son!"


    Reynard paused and turned around to look at a small stall with two vendors behind the table, looking surprisingly at him.


    Lori? "Miss Narbeth?" Reynard looked at the other woman, who had apparently spoken. "Wait, Miss Faylen? Is that you?"


    The women exchanged glances and beamed.


    "So it is you!" gushed Miss Faylen, Reynard''s old academy teacher. It had been ages since he last saw her. Maybe that''s why she looked so weak and old. Beside her, Miss Lori Narbeth, another academy teacher he had seen at the academy but was never taught by her, stood happily with an apron around her neck.


    "Miss Faylen and Miss Narbeth," Reynard breathed as another gust of wind flew past. "What are you both doing here?"


    "Oh just call us Lori and Pyria," said Miss Narbeth. "We''re not teachers anymore, as you can see yourself." She gestured towards their stall.


    It was a cake stand, with a wide array of circular baked cakes displayed on cake stands and covered with clear lids. Reynard noticed some of them had raisins in it, while others looked like they were made with bits of chocolate and berries.


    "Lovely," he muttered as he fished into his pocket and pulled out a few copper coins. "Thanks, I''ll take a slice. Which one do you recommend?"


    "Ooh!" The women jumped to it, seemingly happy to have a customer. "You''ll love the chocolate cake, love." They cut him a slice and handed it to him after wrapping it with parchment.


    "Thanks," he smiled and reached forward to give them the coins, but the women didn''t take it.


    "Oh no, it''s on the house," Lori said, refusing to take his money. "It''s just a slice."


    "Yeah." Pyria laughed, rubbing her hands against the cold spells of wind. "Go along now. It was nice to see you again, son. Tell your friends about us, yeah? And your family, too. Ah, that reminds me, how''re your parents?"


    Reynard took a shaky breath. "Doing great," he croaked out. "I''ll come by again. See you!" With that, he hurried past with the cake slice in his hand. In the cold weather, the only thing that gave him comfort was the warmth of the freshly baked cake slice.


    .


    .


    .


    Reynard pushed open the door to ''The Longing Table'', a place where he hadn''t set foot in for a long time. All around was the orange glow of the lanterns and the heat wafting from the fireplace. Uncle Frank liked his inn to be well-lit and comfy.


    Reynard took off his jacket and hung it on the hooks amongst the others. Then he walked down the tables where people sat laughing and drinking huge glasses of beer, while others sat on the floor near the fire, playing cards. It was comforting to see others live happy lives while your own had flung into misery.


    Most of the people Reynard didn''t recognize, but there were some faces who he faintly remembered. Anyways, he walked through a door that led to the back lounging area, where Uncle Frank insisted on keeping his receptionist desk.


    "Father?"


    The lounge was empty, except for a couple who sat talking in a corner. His uncle''s desk was also left unattended. Reynard was sure his father was bound to be with Uncle Franke, but he had yet to spot either of them.


    "Where are they?" he murmured to himself as he opened the door behind Uncle Frank''s desk that supposedly led to an inner office, but it was very dark in there so he didn''t go in further.


    He decided to ascend the stairs that led up to the rooms. The long row of doors and doors that met him on the landing didn''t clue as to where both of them might be. Since Reynard knew that the very last room in the corridor belonged to Uncle Franke himself, he decided to try there.


    "Uncle Franke? Father?" he called as he knocked on the closed door. He tried the knob but the door was locked. "Uncle, it''s me, Reynard. Hello?" But there was no reply.


    "That''s strange," he murmured to himself as he bent down to look beneath the crack of the door. There was no light coming from inside. It was dark. "If both of them aren''t here, then where are they?"

 Chapter 86 - Gartran Health Center

    Reynard skipped downstairs again and tried to check in the kitchen, although he knew they couldn''t possibly be there.


    Even before he opened the door that led to the kitchen, Reynard could smell the aroma of bread and meat. The creak of the door made all the cooks turn around to see, because people rarely entered the kitchen.


    "Um," Reynard looked around the door, "is Uncle Frank here?"


    The kitchen was warm and cozy. A row of stoves with pots of bubbling stew stood against one wall with one cook attending to all of them. The others stood against a counter table, peeling potatoes or chopping vegetables. It reminded Reynard of the way his mother used to cook when she was still stable on her feet. Happy days, those were.


    Reynard did a quick look around the kitchen. There was nobody in there except the cooks.


    "Ermˇ­ Goodbye," he muttered, closing the door. Reynard put his hands on his hips, thinking about his next move. It was unusual of Father to lie about where he was going, so Reynard firmly believed that was not the case. And for Uncle Franke to leave his deskˇ­


    Reynard went back to the bar area where people were still enjoying their drinks.


    "Hey, Mister..." Reynard said as he approached a man drinking something orange. "Uncle Franke- I mean Franke, the innkeeper. Have you seen him?"


    The man frowned. "He''s usually at his desk."


    "But he''s not."


    The man''s frown deepened. "Ah, I remember. He was supporting another gentleman on his shoulder as he took him out the door. The gentleman looked sick, because he was puking everywhere. They probably went to the nearest health center."


    "Okay, thanks very much," Reynard muttered as he ran out the door. The cold winds hit him like a bulldozer. Inside the warm inn, he had suddenly forgotten about the weather conditions outside. Reynard rubbed his hands as he looked both ways on the street, trying to access where the nearest health center was.


    "Gartran Health Centre," Reynard remembered. It was the same health center he and the princess had gone to so they could tear off her portrait from the bulletin board opposite the street. Since it was so crowded that day, they went there in vain. Now remembering the princess, it brought a pang of hurt mixed with guilt into Reynard''s heart. He felt awful. And now, his father is sick.


    He ran all the way to Gartran, not surprised that the street was barren and lonely. But he could hear a lot of noise coming from inside the tall building. The last time Reynard had gone inside Gartran Health Centre was when he had sparred with Lennard and some other pals at his academy, which had resulted in a terrible black eye and a bruised torso.


    After taking a deep breath, Reynard pushed open the door and stepped inside. The familiar smell of disinfectants and medicines wafted to his nose, and he winced in disgust. Bitter medicine smells were a dislike of his.


    Finally gotten used to the scent inside the health centre, Reynard took a look around and realized the place was exactly the same as it had been when he had last come here. There were rows of chairs all around the front room, and the tall archway that led to the patients'' rooms. Against one wall was the front desk  with the old mister sitting behind it and writing something a patient relayed in his large purple notebook.


    "Hi," Reynard said hesitantly as he approached the desk. The man, without looking up, put a finger up in the air to tell Reynard that he''ll be with him in a minute and kept nodding to what the hysterical patient was saying. Reynard waited in line, and soon when the patient turned to leave, Reynard jumped to the front.


    "Um, hi. I''m looking for someone who came in earlier," he muttered very quietly because loud voices inside health centers were rude and disturbed the patients. "Could you check in your register for someone named Simon Gradral. Or Franke..." Reynard tried to remember Uncle Franke''s last name, but realized he''d never known it in the first place. How strange.


    "Okay, I''ve got a Simon Gradral right here," the old man muttered, his voice starchy and croaky. "Came in half an hour ago. Still here, apparently, since they never checked out." Then he looked suspiciously up at Reynard. "Only relatives can visit the patients."


    "I''m his son," he breathed.


    "Mm, okay. Room#41. Go straight and then take two lefts. 8th room in the corridor."


    "Thank you."


    With that, Reynard ran beyond the archway and occasionally turned right or left for incoming patients. Two lefts later, he stood in front of a long row of doors. He walked past each one, counting the doors as he did so.


    "Number 37...38...39...40...41!"


    He stood in front of the door beyond which was supposedly his father. He prayed it wasn''t something too serious, and then knocked on the door. A moment later, Uncle Franke opened the door. A look of surprise passed his face when he saw Reynard standing in the corridor with his hands in his pocket.


    Uncle Franke chuckled, as if he couldn''t believe what he was seeing, then turned his face slightly to the right and said, "Simon, your son''s here for you. Come in, then."


    Reynard went inside, and Uncle Franke closed the door behind him with a soft thud. There, laying on a thin framed bed lay his father, his skin color slightly green. His eyes were apologetic as they followed Reynard to his seat.


    "What happened?"


    "He drank," Uncle Frank said plainly as he sat at the foot of Simon''s bed. The room was cramped as it was, but the bed against one wall made it even smaller. There was a side table beside the bed on which were several brown medicine bottles with labels on them. Reynard gave them a look and frowned.


    "He drank?" he asked, turning back to Uncle Franke. "How many glasses did he drink to make himself sick like this? Someone at the inn told me he was puking everywhere while you carried him out. Is it true?"


    "Well..." Uncle Franke and Reynard''s father exchanged nervous glances. "Yes."


    Reynard sighed and put his face in his hands and held it there for a moment.


    "Father, you know you can''t handle your alcohol." Reynard''s voice was muffled, but Simon still understood.


    "I know, I know. And I''m sorry," Simon apologized, leaning forward in his bed. "I justˇ­ I won''t drink so heavily again. Where''s Rosa? Did you bring her with you?"


    Reynard lifted his head and shook it. "She''s still at home. She told me to get you home in time for dinner, but just look at the state of you. Does your stomach hurt?"


    "A little bit," he confessed after much contemplation.


    Reynard sighed and turned to Uncle Franke. "Till when is he supposed to be here?"


    "The doc advised that he goes home tomorrow morning."


    "Then who''s going to accompany him all night?"


    "I''ve got to get back to the inn. It ain''t gonna run itself."


    Reynard''s eyebrows snapped together. "But I can''t leave Rosa alone at home, too."


    "Then..." Uncle Franke put a hand under his chin in thought. "Ask Rosa to spend the night here. You can stay with me, meanwhile. Sounds good?"


    Reynard nodded and then looked at his father. His father nodded, too. "Alright, sounds good. I''ll go get her, then."


    With that, he stood up and bid them goodbye. Finding his way out of the building was an easy task, and soon, he had mingled with the cold air again.


    Back at home, Rosa burst at the news.


    "Are you joking?" she cried. "Drunk himself sick! My, what a father to be proud of. And you want me to go attend to him all night? Good heavensˇ­ What about you?" While she ranted about all this, she had also been running around packing a bag for herself.


    "I''ll be staying here, but Uncle Franke said he''ll adjust a room for me at his place."


    "Okay," she muttered, distracted. "Brush your teeth before bed, alright?"


    He sighed. "Yeah, yeah."


    "And don''t forget to take an extra pair of clothes to Uncle Franke''s!" she called as she exited out the door. The loud thud of the door echoed through the emptied house, and Reynard finally began to realize how lonely he would be without the rest of his family.


    Slowly, he went ahead to the kitchen and arranged himself a meal from what Rosa had left covered in on the counter. There was rice, meat and orange juice. The usual dinner, but it seemed divine to someone who hadn''t even had breakfast.


    He sat on the dinner table and looked around him, expecting to see his family around him but there was nobody in the house except him. In a sense, it was eerie. The whistles of the cold wind outside and the tapping of branches against the windows made shivers run down his spine as he stared at his food.


    "It''s better if I go to Uncle''s," he muttered as he gobbled down his dinner and set off once more outside, this time donning a thicker jacket and a rucksack with an extra set of clothes.


    It was late, so many guests had already gone to bed. Others still sat around the bar area, ordering drinks from the bartender while talking amongst themselves.


    He went to the back and discovered Uncle Franke finally at his desk again.


    "Ah, Reynard," Uncle Franke muttered as he pulled on his hand-made cigarette. "Here''s the key to your room. It''s the one next to mine. Go make yourself comfortable and come back down if you want."


    Reynard nodded, grabbed the key, and headed upstairs. This was going to be a long, sleepless night.

 Chapter 87 - Drunk

    [Continuing from Chapter 84]


    "...So I told him to mind his own business!" Ben exclaimed and everyone burst out laughing. He had been telling everyone about a hilarious experience he had a couple weeks ago regarding some guy he had been gambling with. I didn''t know the first thing about gambling, and I was much too nervous to laugh anyways, so I kept smiling, trying not to seem suspicious.


    "I can''t see Mama anywhere," Sven muttered mid-conversation. "Has she gone out to use the lavatories?"


    Everyone shrugged.


    "She''s an admirable woman, Mama is," Sidmund said as he chewed on a biscuit. "Even though her husband and daughter died before her, she''s never once shown any signs of giving up, never, I say."


    Everyone nodded in agreement, even me. She really was admirable, considering everything she went through.


    "And the fact that she never shut down shop and moved away when one tragedy hit her after another," Ben muttered as he traced a shape on the wooden table. "Until recently, though. But that''s just because she''s gotten too old."


    Everyone muttered in agreement. Then everything went silent. Not a word was spoken for a few minutes, yet I knew there was something on everyone''s mind.


    "Shall we go to sleep, then?" Sven suggested as he stood up.


    "Yeah, you''re right," Sidmund groaned, as he pushed back his crate and got to his feet. "It''s gotten really late. We need to head out early in the morning, so..." The exchange of glances between the black-clothed men did not go unnoticed by me. "Let''s head to bed."


    Sven and I went up first so we could move his things to my room.


    "It''s cold tonight, so let''s leave the sheets for them," he muttered. Then he reached under his bed and pulled out a white bedsheet. "I''ll use this to sleep on. Can you check if I have anything in my drawer?"


    I nodded and bent to open his drawer. It was empty, except for a couple candle sticks and a flannel.


    "Just a handkerchief, and a few candles."


    He shrugged. "I won''t be using them, but just take a candle in case someone needs it in the middle of the night." I nodded and grabbed one. Then I went back to my room while Sven called for the men over the banister. A second later, I heard a heavy thudding of feet and then voices as everyone chose their rooms. The doors shut and the beds and floorboards creaked as everyone lay down for the rest of the night.


    "I''m exhausted," Sven muttered as he came back to my room. "Ermˇ­ I''m gonna go to sleep first." I watched him as he lay down a single white sheet next to the wall. He then threw a pillow over to one side and with hesitant, awkward movements, he laid down, facing the wall.


    "Aren''t you cold?" I asked worriedly, seeing him rub his feet against each other.


    "I''ll be fine," he murmured and then soon, he was asleep.


    It took me a while to doze off, though. I kept worrying that Sven would be cold all night, even though he had told me he''d be alright. How had it suddenly gotten so cold? It was fine yesterday. Carefully, I turned my sheet to the left in a way so that the long side was parallel to my toes, and then I slid half the sheet down, over Sven. I know it wasn''t long enough this way to cover Sven''s whole body, but it was just enough to cover his legs and to stop him shivering.


    Finally relaxed, I shut my eyes.


    Then I remembered. We had decided to tell Mama about the assassins once everybody went to sleep. Since the walls were so thin, I could hear huge manly snores from all sides, so I knew most everyone was deep into their dreams.


    "Sven," I shook him softly by the shoulder. "Hey, Sven!"


    He murmured something in his sleep.


    "Sven!"


    "Mmˇ­ what..."


    "Get up!" I hissed. "We need to tell Mama about the bad people."


    "Bad...peopleˇ­?"


    "Yes. Sven!" I shook him again.


    "Whatˇ­?"


    "We need to-"


    "Morning," he mumbled.


    "What?"


    "Mm...in the mor...ning..."


    "Oh, come on!"


    I lay back down in bed, my head ticking. Why did I even need Sven for? I can just go and tell her by myself. I''m sure she was itching to know about the ball anyways.


    Slowly, I stepped out of bed, trying not to step over Sven''s legs and open the door. The door creaked louder than I had expected and I just stood in the doorway for a moment, still as a statue. I waited to hear the dreaded noise of the door opening and footsteps coming out, but the snores continued. I gave a sigh of relief and slowly threaded my way down, where the candle was still burning and the tea cups were still lying around.


    At first I thought about picking the tea cups up and putting them in the kitchen, but I didn''t, since it would cause a lot of clinking noises. I didn''t knock on the door to her room, I went straight in.


    "Mama," I whispered, looking around in the dark. I had expected for the room to be lit, but there was not a single candle in sight. I heard some shuffling from the other side and I prayed to God Whiskers wasn''t up yet.


    "Mama!" I called again. "I need to tell you something!"


    "What?" said an unfamiliar voice.


    Startled, I turned around with a jerk and came face to face with a torso. Curiously, my eyes trailer up and there stood the man with the mask. Klyn.


    "What do you want to tell her?" he asked again, his thin black eyes staring down at me. His voice was low-pitched and husky. I struggled to understand.


    "Huh?" A shiver ran down my spine. Had I been caught?


    He kept looking at me, but didn''t say another word.


    "I just..." My eyes darted from the left to the right. "I was just making sure she was okay."


    "And you wanted to tell her something."


    I looked up into a pair of deep, intimidating black eyes. "Huh?"


    "You wanted to tell her something," he repeated patiently, his eyes not leaving mine for even a millisecond.


    I inched to my right but so did he, blocking my way out. I inched to the left and he matched my pace, blocking my way from the other side as well. He was tall, probably in his mid-30''sˇ­ So there was no way I could take him down.


    "I wanted to tell her to drink water before bed. Hydration is important," I murmured as I tried to push past him, but to no avail. "What do you want?"


    He chuckled, but didn''t say anything to enlighten me. Then suddenly, he took a few steps back, allowing me to zoom past him. I took three stairs at a time as I ran upstairs and locked myself into my room.


    I almost forgot Sven was sleeping on the floor because I almost stepped on his head.


    "Oop, sorry," I whispered and then made my way to bed. Sven had somehow wrapped himself in my sheet, so I had nothing to cover myself with. I pulled out my slightly dirty black dress from the cabinet below the drawer and lay it on my legs.


    Soon, I was asleep.


    .


    .


    .


    In the morning, all the rooms except ours were empty.


    "They left earlier than I expected," I uttered as I pushed back the door to Room#5, taking in the warm flood of sunlight.


    A yawning Sven emerged out of my room.


    "They left?" he questioned when he caught sight of the room next to mine. "Strange. Nice of them to fold everything up, though. Have you had breakfast yet?"


    I shook my head. "Just woke up 10 minutes ago. Shall we head down, then?"


    He nodded and together, we made our way down the stairs. Mama stood against the edge of the table, clearing away last night''s cups. She looked sleep-deprived and annoyed.


    "Good morning, Mama," I said as I jumped off the last step. "Where were you last night?"


    She looked up at my question. I noticed her bloodshot eyes and the eyebags under her lower eyelids. She looked horrible.


    "Mama, are you alright?" I asked worriedly as I ran up to her. "Did you get any sleep last night?"


    "Mm, yeah," she murmured. She gathered all the cups and took them to the kitchen, but her walk was lanky and unfocused.


    "What happened?" I asked no one in particular. "She looks like she''s been up all night!"


    Sven looked worried, too. "I have no idea. She''s never pulled an all-nighter before. But if she did, what even for?"


    I shrugged and looked at the kitchen door, concerned. Did something happen last night? Had I missed it? Everyone seemed hearty and caring, so I doubt something strange was said to Mama. But then why else was she soˇ­


    "Um, I''ll go help her in the kitchen," Sven muttered to me as he walked past. "You can do something else."


    I waited for him to leave, then I opened all the windows and let some fresh air in. Today was slightly cold, but not irritatingly so. I sighed as I looked at the street outside. It was a nice day.


    ?


    [The Longing Table]


    "Reynard," Uncle Franke muttered as he pulled long and hard on his cigarette. "How old are you?"


    He was quick in his response. "21."


    Uncle Franke exhaled, the smoke coming out of his mouth like a dragon breathing fire. "Would you like to drink with me, then?"


    Reynard hesitated. "Erm, I haven''t done so before, so I''m a bit-"


    "It''s gonna be okay!" Uncle Franke cut in as he tapped the cigarette butt over a makeshift ashtray in a jam jar. "It won''t be enough to get you drunk." Then he proceeded to pull out a dark green glass bottle half full of a weird brown liquid from under his table. He placed it on his desk and reached down again, pulling out two small glasses.


    He poured the drink in them and then pushed one glass over to Reynard''s side.


    "Take it," he said. "Let''s cheer."


    Eventually, Reynard gripped the glass and tapped it against his uncle''s. "To family."


    "To family," Uncle Franke responded.


    They both downed their glasses and winced. Then a warm sigh.


    "That was good," Reynard muttered as he inspected his glass. "What''s it called?"


    "Alms of Grief," Uncle Franke replied as he refilled their glasses. "Best served when grieved."


    Reynard chuckled, but not happily so. They downed their glasses again and sighed. Soon, Reynard was as drunk as a skunk.


    "You told me it''d be okayˇ­!" Reynard cried groggily as Uncle Franke led him up to his room. "You said I canˇ­!"


    "I know, lad, but who would have known your liquor tolerance would be below the bar?" He hoisted Reynard up one step and groaned. "Did you gain weight? Or more muscle? Damn, son, you''re gonna break this old man''s back."


    One step at a time, they made their way to Reynard''s room while everybody laughed at the drunk cries coming from upstairs. It was a wild night, but the best Reynard had in a week. He fell asleep as soon as his head hit the covers.


    Uncle Franke sighed at the sight of his good ol'' friend''s son and silently turned the lamp off to let him sleep in peace.


    After what happened to him, the boy needed his rest.

 Chapter 88 - Over Breakfast

    The next morning, Reynard was in an agonizing state.


    "Good god..." he murmured as he sat up, the insides of his stomach churning. "I really shouldn''t have drunk so much," he groaned as he clutched his nightstand and struggled to stand up. "The things this stuff does to your insides is torture indeed."


    Somehow, he got to his feet, but not before he had tried to remember how he had got into bed in the first place. No way did Uncle Franke carry him all the way up. No absolute way. Reynard stared at his bed for a minute or two in deep thought before sighing and heading downstairs.


    As usual, the inn was swarmed with laughter and clinking of beer jugs.. People sat in the lounging area with their meal trays in front of them, and a couple of children ran around chasing each other. For a professional inn, this was quite a cozy atmosphere.


    Reynard approached his Uncle''s desk where he sat drinking a glass of juice and checking something off of his register.


    "Good morning." Reynard tapped his fingers on the desk.


    "Oh," Uncle Franke said as he put away his register, his white beard twitching. "G''morning. Slept well, I hope? Though after those numerous glasses you drank yesterday, I doubt it."


    Reynard scratched his neck, his eyes trailing away from his Uncle''s. "Um, yeahˇ­ But the Alms of Grief did put a weight on my stomach."


    Uncle Franke laughed a heavy, full-throated laugh. "That right? Well, it''ll get better after breakfast." Uncle Franke waved over to the lounge. "Go take a seat and a server will attend to you in a minute, or you can get your tray over from the kitchen if you want to speed things up."


    Reynard nodded and with one last tap on the table, he turned around and headed to the kitchen. As usual, everyone was whipped up in a frenzy. Cooks scurried here and there, filling trays with eggs and meat and whatnot. Reynard looked around in awe at the busy workers. He noticed that a woman was struggling to tilt and pour a huge pot of what seemed like stew into a smaller container.


    "Here, let me help you," Reynard offered as he ran up to her. Gratefully, the woman handed him the pot and let him do the rest.


    "You''re that man who came in looking for Franke yesterday, right?" she asked as she observed Reynard tilting the heavy pot with ease. "Did you find him alright?"


    "Yup," Reynard said as he wiped his greasy hands on a flannel. "Would you like me to help with something else?"


    The woman, who was short and stout with brown hair streaked with white tied behind her head in a small bun, and who donned a white apron like any other, beamed at Reynard''s offer.


    "Good boy, yourself." She smiled a wrinkly smile as she hobbled over to another counter, beckoning Reynard to follow her. "Just chop these carrots into small bits for the carrot cake, alright? I''ll be back in a moment." Then she hurried away outside.


    Reynard stood next to the counter with a knife in his hand, trying to figure out how to chop the already peeled carrots.


    "Wait, aren''t they supposed to be shredded for carrot cake?" he murmured to himself, looking upon the long orange things with mild puzzlement.


    "ARE THE CARROTS DONE?" a cook from the other side of the kitchen bellowed, looking straight at Reynard. "WHERE''S MARION?"


    "Um..." Reynard put his hands up in surrender, the knife pointing to his chest. "Um, she left me with the task for a moment."


    "WHAT?" the red-faced cook bellowed again, marching straight towards him.


    "Um, what I mean is..." Reynard looked towards the door in a moment of desperation, "I-I''ll cut the carrots. Give me but a moment, sir."


    The man stopped in his tracks and scrutinized Reynard before turning away with a rude ''hmph!'' and walking back to his station.


    Since his hands had gotten sweaty with nervousness, Reynard rinsed them under the sink and got to work, the rhythmic ''chop, chop, chop'' of the carrots bringing him peace of mind.


    He hadn''t worked in the kitchens for a long time, but he now realized how hard but fruitful it was. Marion came back a moment later and commended Reynard on his handiwork despite it being his first time. She stood beside him and started teaching him how to do it properly, and soon enough, the carrots were cut and put in a bowl, ready to go into the cake batter.


    "Thanks, laddie," Marion nodded gratefully as she pushed the cake into the fire oven. "You were such a help! What''s your name?"


    "Reynard," he replied as he wiped his forehead with the back of his arm. With the intensity in the kitchen matched with the pressure put upon him by the cooks, Reynard had been eventually doused with sweat.


    The woman smiled at his name. "You really are as nice as your name. I have a son your age named Roy. He''d be a great son if he even had an ounce of what you do. Really, I ought to give that lazy bum a spanking one day."


    Reynard and Marion laughed.


    "I actually came here to get my breakfast," he remembered suddenly.


    "Ahhh, is that so. I''m sorry I whipped you into my work," she replied apologetically. "Just grab a tray from the table over there. I won''t mind if you ask me for a second helping."


    Reynard chuckled and went on his way after saying ''goodbye'' to the dear old lady. Grabbing his breakfast tray, he walked back into the lounging area and sighed happily at the cool atmosphere outside the kitchen. Really, cooks should be commended for their jobs.


    "Got yourself some sustenance?" Uncle Franke perked up when he saw Reynard coming his way. "Go take a seat. Or pull one up here and we can have breakfast together."


    Reynard shrugged and placed his tray on his Uncle''s desk. Then he pulled a chair away from a table and brought it up to the desk, sitting right across Uncle Franke.


    "Here ya go, Franke," a woman emerged from the kitchen and placed a tray of food before him. "Got you an extra serving of meat."


    "Thanks, Marion," Uncle Franke smiled at her.


    With growing interest, Reynard took careful observation of the interaction between Marion and his Uncle Franke, and he smiled suggestively.


    "What''s going on here, then?" he asked after Marion left, his tone amused. "She has a kid, y''know."


    Uncle Franke shot him a glare. "She''s a widow."


    "Ohhh~ and what are you trying to explain by that claim?" Reynard smirked as he stuffed his face with egg.


    His Uncle smacked him on the head and Reynard held his head in pain.


    "Aughh, you know I''m right!" he exclaimed as he rubbed the back of his head. "How dare you try to hit it up with a widowed woman?"


    "I never!" Uncle Franke groaned. "Shut up or you''ll end up next to your father''s bed in the health center, I mean it."


    Reynard chuckled as he ate his breakfast, deciding he''ll tease his uncle about it some time later.


    As he ate, he looked around and took in the cozy, comfortable atmosphere of the inn, which was totally different to Mama Ruth''s. There was light everywhere. The windows were wide open and birds chirped on the sills. Small spells of wind kept the inn airy and cool. Laughter rose around him, and the delicious aroma of food wafted all throughout the inn, announcing to all the late-sleepers that breakfast was ready.


    There was no comparison to Mama Ruth''s inn. But lately, he had noticed that the princess had shuffled things around a bit, forcing Mama to open the windows and let some air in. She had also started putting a lot more effort into how she used to look, by applying rouge and brushing her hair every morning. Reynard smiled at the thought of Mama smacking her lips after applying rouge on her lips. It struck him as out of character.


    "Anyways," Reynard muttered as he turned back to his Uncle, who was scoffing down thin slices of meat. "My hair''s been getting a little dull since Mother got bedridden." He didn''t dare say she was dead.


    "Is that so?" Uncle Franke glanced at his hair and indeed, it had turned from a jet black color to a slightly grey. "Is it because you''re getting too old?"


    "No," Reynard muttered as he drank some water. "Mother used to massage my hair with a special kind of oil every two weeks. It''s been almost a month since my last hair massage."


    "Hm? What oil? Recommend it to me so this old man can get black hair again."


    Reynard chuckled. "I really have no idea. It was mustard oil or something similar, mixed with another mystery substance Mother assured would do wonders and keep my hair healthy."


    "Oh? That''s good then. Ask Rosa to do it for you when she gets the time. Busy girl, she is."


    "Yeah," Reynard nodded. "I hear her pottery business has been booming lately."


    "I know," Uncle Franke said as he pointed to a large ceramic vase on a table. "That''s her craft work right there. She really knows how to get the right shape and to make the colors pop."


    This idle chatter made Reynard realize how much better he felt away from home. Back at their household, he had felt the absence of his mother, but here, he had been whipped up into a different situation. Constantly talking and eating and drinking made him forget about the worries at home.


    Hopefully, it''ll keep that way.

 Chapter 89 - Both Of Them...

    "I''ll be heading home, then," Reynard said after he had dropped his empty tray off in the kitchen sink. "Father must be home by now, if what the doctor said was true."


    "Okay," Uncle Franke grumbled as he rolled up a new cigarette. "Come by later to tell me how he''s doing, okay? And he''ll be returning to work by when?"


    Reynard took in a sharp breath. He did not want his father to leave them again. "In 2 days."


    Uncle Franke nodded. "Make the most of what you have, okay? Good luck."


    "Thanks, Uncle Franke."


    With that, Reynard turned on his heels and walked through the door that led to the bar where some people were having their morning drinks.. He noticed his good friend Bradshaw from academy sitting in the corner slurping on a sherry, and he waved to him.


    "Join me for a drink, eh?"


    "Can''t," Reynard responded as he pulled open the door, cold gusts of wind dancing on his cheek. "Need to head home. See you later."


    Today it was not harshly cold, but a warm, comforting type of cold in which Reynard enjoyed walking through the street. Children ran past him in newly knitted scarves up to their noses, squealing and shrieking as they did so. Reynard smiled as he saw his own childhood in them. It had been a while since he had been truly happy and carefree.


    With his hands in his pockets, he trotted through the streets. He first thought about going straight to Gartran Health Centre, but since he knew his father was eager to get home, he changed his route to his house. The sun rose further up as he got nearer to his destination, bringing with it the joys of warmth.


    Before he had even opened the door to his house and stepped in, he felt there was something seriously wrong. It was dark inside because the lanterns were still unlit. Had Rosa still not returned home with their father?


    Reynard was about to go back outside in search of them when he heard faint sobbing coming from the dining room.


    "Rosa?" he called worriedly as he ran through the front entrance. "Are you back?" He followed the sounds of the sobs and soon found his sister sitting before the dining table, sobbing into her hands. "Rosaˇ­?"


    Upon hearing her name, she lifted her head from her arms and the state of her baffled Reynard to the bones. Her eyes were bloodshot with tears, and her face was similarly so, as if she had applied rouge to areas where it may even seem daft, like below her eyes, her neck and even her ears.


    "Oh dear, what happened?" Reynard whispered as he came to sit beside his sister. "Has something happened to your stall? Don''t tell me it''s run out of business."


    It took a minute for her to gather her senses to answer. "No," she croaked eventually, the break in her voice not going unnoticed by either of them.


    "So?" he muttered soothingly as he rubbed her shoulder. "Why are you crying?"


    She burst out in a new flow of tears and wept onto the table. The sound of her crying broke his heart and he patted her back, trying to get her to answer him.


    "Come on now, Rosa," he whispered as he looked around the house. "Where''s father?" At this, her trembling shoulders turned to stone for a brief moment. Reynard frowned as he turned back to her. "Rosa, where''s father?"


    She lifted her face off the table and looked at her brother. Her face was a mixture of worry, hopelessness and misery. Her lips parted as if she wanted to say something, but no words escaped her mouth. They trembled in place and her pupils searched her brother''s face before she took a deep, shaky breath and uttered out the the most horrible, most dreaded words Reynard could have ever asked to hear:


    "He''s dead."


    Reynard frowned in innocent confusion. "What? Who''s dead?"


    Rosa broke down in tears once more as her face crumpled up, and she wrapped her arms around Reynard''s neck before pulling him in for a hug.


    "I''m so sorry, love," she gasped. "The doctors said got alcohol poisoning."


    Reynard pulled back, still confused. "What are you talking about?"


    Rosa ducked her head and sobbed for a moment. She did not want to break it to him. Her brother was much more emotionally delicate than she was. He won''t be able to handle the news.


    With intense self control, Rosa stopped her tears and cupped her brother''s face before saying, "Both our parents are dead, Reynard. It''s just us." Then she hugged him again, crying into his shoulder.


    This time, Reynard didn''t pull away. It took him a few minutes to properly absorb the weight of her words, and he did not like what he came to realize. All of a sudden, the shine in his eyes disappeared and his shoulders slumped.


    "Where is he?" he whispered.


    "H-H-His body is still at the health center," Rosa cried. "They wouldn''t let me take him! They wouldn''t even let me see him after he declared his demise, Reynard, what do we do!?"


    Reynard stared at the wall past her, all sorts of thoughts going through his mind. "What do we do?" he whispered almost to himself. "What do we do? Whatever could we do?"


    Rosa detached herself from her brother, looking at him as he drove himself into hysterics.


    "Why the f**ck does it always happen to us!?" he bellowed at nobody in particular as angry tears flowed down his face. "Does god have something against us, huh? Things were finally getting better. I was- They- It was going to be-" He struggled to turn his thoughts into words. "F**ck. F**CK! F**CK IT! F**CK EVERYBODY!"


    The sharp slap echoed through the empty house.


    Reynard clutched his cheek in utter shock, staring at the floor. This was the first time he had ever been slapped by family, and by his sister no less.


    Rosa pursed her lips as she stared at him, now more angrier than miserable.


    "Mind what you say," she whispered coldly. "We do not swear in this household, since that''s the rule that Mother laid down. Respect it, and respect everybody. I know that you''re distraught, and I know that you''re pained. Much better than anybody, of course. But I''m not going to tolerate this black tongue of yours, Reynard. Please. Please."


    With that, she hugged her brother''s stiff body once again and sighed.


    "I''m sorry," he whispered as he hugged her back, finally letting his tears flow out. "I''m so sorry."


    They kept that way for a few moments before Rosa pulled back and wiped her brother''s face with a handkerchief. "Alright, alright," she smiled. "You big baby. Have you had breakfast yet?"


    He nodded. "And you?"


    She shook her head. "No. But I don''t have much of an appetite anymore. I''d much rather retrieve Father''s body from Gartran. Shall we be on our way, then? He must be missing his children."


    Reynard smiled a sad smile as he stood up. "He never liked health centers to begin with. Let''s go."


    ?


    [Back at what once was Ogden Cove]


    "My lord..." Mama Ruth gave the dress a good look, front and back. "What, did you roll around on the ballroom floor?"


    Mama had demanded to take a look at the state of her wedding dress, and I had reluctantly fetched it from upstairs. Mama was not pleased.


    "It has holes in it!" she exclaimed as she thrust the crumpled up green dress in my face. "How did that happen?"


    I mumbled a reply.


    "What?"


    I winced. "I don''t know."


    She scoffed. "Good god."


    She was in an especially bad mood today, and both Sven and I wondered if it was something connected to the assassins'' visit last night. Something serious had happened, but neither of us knew not what it was.


    "And what happened to the hem?" she asked as she inspected it. "Why is it so muddy? Did you not go there in a carriage?"


    I fidgeted with my hands. "I did."


    "Then??"


    I put my hands hopelessly up in the air. "I''m sorry Mama, I didn''t mean for this to happen. It just- Something bad happened last night."


    She gave me a scrutinizing look. "What?"


    I contemplated answering her, but in the end, I knew it was inevitable.


    "Mama, can we do this another time?"


    She folded her arms. "No."


    I sighed, trying to keep myself from turning into an annoying, wailing child.


    "But Mama-"


    "No."


    I threw my hands up in the air and circled around my position, trying to think about my situation. Would Mama believe me if we got attacked by assassins at the ball? It sounded much too far-fetched. Even Sven had taken a few moments to believe me. Would Mama be any different?


    I tried to test it. If she didn''t believe me, I''d brush it off as a joke.


    "Alright, I''ll believe you," I muttered as I faced her. "We got attacked by assassins last night."


    A sharp eyebrow shot up. "Oh?"


    "And the assassins were those very friends of yours. Sidmund and his pals, I mean." I know I sounded daft. I know. But it was the truth, and she had to hear it.


    Mama looked at me for a few more moments before sighing and turning around.


    "I didn''t realize I was being too hard on you," she muttered as she opened the door to her room. "You didn''t have to lie to get out of it. I was gonna throw it out anyways. Go get me a cup of tea."


    "Oh-kay," I answered and held my breath as she went in. I didn''t have the heart to tell her that I had, in fact, not been lying. I turned on my heel and went into the kitchen to arrange a cup of tea for her as well as myself.


    She''ll have to come to terms with it one day, I thought as I filled the pot with milk.


    "Yeah," I murmured. "Better leave it be."

 Chapter 90 - Retrieving His Body

    Rosa shared her shawl with Reynard as they walked down the main street.


    "You need it much more than I do," he said as he wriggled it off of his shoulders. "You''ve got a more fragile build, so you get cold easily."


    "Nonsense!" Rosa forcefully wrapped the shawl around Reynard''s neck as well as her own. "None of us is falling sick in this weather, especially not due to our own negligence."


    Amused, Reynard peeked at Rosa who''s face had gone red with the cold. (As well as because of the previous crying.) She looked beautiful, with the golden sunshine lighting up her hair from the back, and her blue-grey eyes looking straight ahead as she walked. She really had inherited Mother''s strong genes, and she took pride in showing them off.


    "What are you looking at?" She frowned as she side-eyed him.


    Reynard chuckled. "Nothing of importance."


    "Tell me!" she exclaimed as she nudged him in the shoulder. "Do I look ugly because I cried?"


    Reynard laughed out loud.


    She scowled. "Ahh, tell me!"


    "I''m not telling," he smiled as he joyfully leaped over the cobblestone path. "Come on, we need to take a right from here."


    Rosa rolled her eyes, but not unkindly as she followed her younger brother around the corner.


    "You brat," she laughed as she tickled his back, getting motivated to torture him even more as he jumped away. "But tell me. Honestly. Do I look bad?"


    Reynard stopped in his tracks and gave her face a good look before turning away and nonchalantly opening the door to the health center.


    "You look like an ogre. Nothing new there."


    That day, Rosa Gradral''s appalled gasp was probably heard by everyone inside Gartran.


    "The audacity!" she yelled before following him inside and closing the door behind her.


    Reynard was already approaching the front desk, a smug smile on his face. In truth, he was pleased that he had somehow lifted Rosa''s mood after how broken she had been due to their Father''s death. Honestly? Reynard hadn''t been much different, effing and cursing straight out everybody. But soon enough he had realized how much he needed to be there for his sister. She had been with their parents for much longer than him, so she must''ve felt the pain of losing them more too.


    She had a stronger relationship with their mother since she was always helping her out at home, as well as running her own pottery business. On top of that, she equally supported the family financial-wise when father had gone off to training. She was an admirable woman, really, especially considering how she was just 8 years older than Reynard.


    "Simon Gradral?" It hurt him to speak out his dead father''s name, but he did so with pride and honor.


    The familiar attendant gave Reynard and Rosa (who came to stand beside him just in that moment) a good, judging look and then traced his finger down on his register before tapping at a scribbled name.


    "Are you here to collect the body?" he said in his old man voice.


    "Yes," Reynard and Rosa said in unison, the echo of their voices concealing the fact how broken the one word had come out as.


    The man nodded. "Relation to the demised? Siblings? Children? Aunt''s kids?"


    "Children," Rosa muttered before Reynard could reply. She reached out behind the desk and took her brother''s hand and squeezed it tight. "Both of us."


    "Mmˇ­okay," the man mumbled under his breath. "Mortuary is the last door in the corridor you''ll see when you turn left from there." He pointed to the arched entryway with his charcoal pencil. The siblings looked at it and nodded.


    "Thanks," Reynard muttered as he pulled on Rosa''s hand and led her through. "Are you okay?"


    Rosa sniffed. "I think so. So far, anyways. Did he say to the leftˇ­?"


    Reynard tugged her along the corridor, keeping his pace faster than hers so she would not be able to see how close to breaking down he was. He gritted his teeth to keep himself composed and gave a huge sigh as he came to stand before the large, black eerie-looking door.


    It was marked ''Gartran Mortuary'' on a brass plate attached to the thin area of wall to it''s right.


    "I can''t go in," Reynard muttered as he backed away, bumping against Rosa in the process.


    "What happened?"


    Reynard sighed. "It''s a mortuary. There''ll be a lot of dead bodies in there, Rosa, we can''t go in there like this."


    "Oh, hush!" she said. "We''re adults. How else would we get to father?"


    "I-"


    "Fine," she said as she sighed. "I''ll go in alone. Wait for me, okay?" She went ahead, and before Reynard could even ask if she was sure enough to do this, she was already inside.


    Reynard bit his lips as he tried not to take a peek inside to make sure Rosa was fine. It was a mortuary, for goodness'' sake. Place of the dead. Who knows what''s in there?


    "Please hurry back," he muttered under his breath as he leaned against the wall, tapping his foot on the tiled floor. "Come on, come on."


    A couple minutes later, Reynard heard the door creak open and he perked up hopefully, but it was another man who went about his way. Reynard leaned back again and wrung his hands in anticipation. Five minutes after that, Rosa appeared at the door with an unfamiliar man.


    "Reynard," she whispered, her voice soft. "This is Mortician Reiss. He''s asking for some proof of our relationship with our father."


    The man nodded and shook Reynard''s hand.


    "Yes," he muttered, his voice heavy and sober. "It''s the rules given to us from much higher ups. No bodies can be taken away without evident proof, or else we''d have stolen bodies every other day."


    Reynard and Rosa exchanged nervous glances. This was the first time they were being involved in this, and they had no idea how to prove what they were being asked. They were his children! What else could they say but give their word for it?


    "Um," Rosa spoke up amidst the deafening silence. "I have a birthmark that I inherited from my father. It''s a darkened patch of skin on my back, which I''m aware is the same as that of my father''s."


    Mortician Reiss nodded. "That''s perfect if we can compare the marks side by side. Are you sure you''re willing to bare your skin in front of me? I can call a woman to confirm in my stead."


    Rosa smiled sweetly. "Thank you. That''s be very nice."


    Mortician Reiss disappeared inside the mortuary again and a couple minutes later, a tall, blonde woman emerged and asked Rosa to show her the mark. Reynard turned his head away as the checking was done. A minute later, Mortician Reiss returned.


    "Yes, Laurain has confirmed your claim," he said humbly, pointing to the tall, blonde woman. "Would you like our assigned men to take the body to the burial site? It will cost you not more than a few silvers for the service."


    "Yes, please," Rosa choked. She turned to Reynard.  "You''re okay with that?"


    He nodded but didn''t respond.


    "Alright, give us just a minute to prepare," Mortician Reiss said. "Would you like to look at him one last time before he''s taken away?"


    The siblings exchanged unsure looks. "Yes, of course."


    Mortician Reiss beckoned them in. "Alright, then. Come on inside."


    The mortuary was cold.


    Colder than the weather outside.


    There was a foul odor wafting around them, causing Rosa and Reynard to pinch their noses as they walked through the dark room, their footsteps echoing.


    We''re surrounded by dead people, Reynard thought as he glanced at the long white sacks filled each with what was possibly a human, tied with a black rope at the foot and the waist. Reynard tried not to puke.


    Rosa, on the other hand, seemed much more composed as she followed Mortician Reiss through piles and piles of bodies, tables and surgical equipment on tables.


    "Right here." Mortician Reiss stopped at a random sack. "Simon Gradral, middle-aged, died of alcohol poisoning?"


    "Yes," Rosa replied calmly.


    Mortician Reiss proceeded to crouch down and untie the sack before slowly pulling away the opening and revealing a slightly grey face. The eyes were closed and the stubble was prominent. But most importantly, it barely looked like their father. Rather, it looked like a... a dead person.


    Reynard gagged while Rosa clenched her fists as tears flowed down her face. It was a hard sight for both of them. They gave him another look and instantly decided that they did not want to see it anymore, for this was not the version of him they were willing to remember in their memories.


    Reynard was sure he was in for a lot of nightmares.


    "Shall we take him away?" Mortician Reiss returned right on time with a couple of burly looking men not far behind him.


    Reynard and Rosa nodded, and the miserable look in their eyes as he was tied again and taken out a back door was prominent more than even the pungent odor in the room.


    Rosa gave Mortician Reiss the money he asked for, for Gartran''s services they were receiving. Soon, they followed the two men out into the late morning light, heading to the same cemetery their mother was buried in.


    "Is this really how we''re going to have his funeral?" Reynard whispered sadly as they took the lead. "Is this it? Just us?"


    Rosa nodded, clenching her jaw. "I think it''s for the best. We need to save all that we can. Money, I mean. Since we don''t know what''s to come for us in the future."


    Reynard nodded. He did not like flashy funerals anyways. Simple was preferable, more so because he did not want the pity of others.


    "I do not want to be labelled as that one orphan kid, Rosa," he muttered bitterly.


    "I know," she whispered back and held his hand. "Same as I. Let''s not tell anyone till we''re sure we can bear the burden. Okay?"


    ...


    "Okay."

 Chapter 91 - The Audacity

    [Back at what was once Ogden Cove]


    I gave Mama her cup of tea and whatever else she requested before slowly closing the door to her room and sighing with relief.


    She hadn''t probed me about my supposed lie or asked further about her torn dress, so I was relieved to be playing it safe for the meantime.


    I was about to head upstairs when there was a sudden knock on the door. Thoughtlessly, I went ahead to open it. For some reason, I had become rather brazen after the princess''s funeral, knowing that I was less likely to be recognized and put to the spear.


    And whoever could there be, standing at the door? Not anyone much of importance, since those people had already come and went much swifter than I would have deemed necessary.


    So I was a bit shocked when I pulled open the door and there stood Marquess Huxley with the brightest smile on the face of the Earth.


    "M''lady!" he beamed and once more, took my hand. He kissed the back of it and when I was finally able to pull it away, I wiped my hand on the back of my dress since I couldn''t bear the one wet spot..


    "M''lady, those were truly one of the darkest days whilst I was apart from you," he continued without stopping. "And such a shame it was to cut off the banquet, too. But given that the circumstances called for it, I hold the opinion that it was more than necessary."


    I scoffed. This little bastardˇ­ Was he actually serious? He shut down the event without any prior warning and left to save his own skin. He never even told the ladies present about any safety procedures! He left them to die! And then he comes around to inform me about the validity of his opinion. I think he''s a real jerk.


    "Is that so?" I folded my arms and looked straight into his eyes, challenging him with a stare. "May I know of these ''circumstances'' you talk about?"


    I could tell that he was nervous as he gave the guards behind him an unsure peek.


    "Well, I''d say that''s confidential-" he said but I cut him in right away.


    "I''d rather not hear any half-baked lies right now, good sire," I smiled coldly. "It''s early in the morning; I don''t have time for this. State your business, please."


    Marquess Huxley gave a wobbly smile as he balanced on his heel and then stood upright.


    "Ah, then..." he said softly as he looked into my eyes. "I''ve come to take away my bride, just as we agreed in the gardens of the Plaza that day."


    I frowned. "Pardon?"


    He took a deep shaky breath. "I''ve come to marry you, my love."


    It took each and every part of my body to keep me from gagging. Was he serious??? No wait, really??? He thinks I''ll still be his bride after what he did to me, to all of us? And to hell with his claims! I never agreed to anything!


    "I''m not going anywhere," I snarled bitterly.


    It was his turn to be puzzled. "I''m sorry?"


    I didn''t care about the guards behind him. I didn''t care that his aristocratic father was inside the carriage. I wasn''t gonna let him go this easily.


    Nonchalantly, I leaned against the doorframe.


    "You wanna know what happened after you left that day?"


    Visible sweat appeared on his forehead as he digested my words. "Um, after I left, you say?"


    "Exactly," I scoffed. "Saving your own skin was so much more important for you than giving all the women in the hall even a second thought, huh? Do you know how scared we were? Most everybody was in tears, and some might not even be able to ever recover from the mental trauma they got from that experience. Good going, Marquess! Shall I give you a medal for getting cold feet after hearing the extremely good news from Wendell Alistair?"


    He looked visibly uncomfortable. Again, there was a furtive exchange in glances between him and his guards.


    "Forgive me if anything came off that way, m''lady," he said as he placed a gloved hand on his heart. "But my love for you remains unwavering."


    My ears would start bleeding any moment if he didn''t take this gentleman act away from this door.


    "But whenever did I agree to your proposal, O'' dearest Marquess?" I said sarcastically. "There was no agreement between us. Not that day, no never!"


    He reached forward for my hand but I slapped him away.


    "But m''lady," he cried. "I thought you liked the idea of marrying me! Why ever would you reject someone everyone else dreams of letting their daughters marry."


    I shrugged. I was angry, yes. I was afraid I''d burst out to my full potential any moment, but I needed answers.


    "No," I said, folding my arms again. "Tell me something, though. If you''re so eager to marry, why did you dedicatedly pursue a girl of no social status living in a tiny building on a deserted street? You could''ve married any rich noble woman with a high position in her social circle? Like Wendell Alistair, for example? Or perhaps any other woman in the Plaza beside me? I''m sure you know what I mean, Marquess, none of us is that daft."


    The Marquess was still not ready to admit anything, "I don''t know what you mean."


    "Oh, for God''s  sake," I scoffed. "Let''s all pretend to be adults for once. Why do you like me?"


    He let a white gloved hand rake through his golden curls as he thought about how to answer. "Um, you''re very pretty."


    I nodded. "Alright, what else?"


    He looked at the floor and frowned. I could tell the wheels were turning in his head, but was there any result being produced?


    "I-I.." he stuttered, trying to answer my seemingly difficult question. Was it that hard to name a few pros about the person you liked? "Iˇ­ You smell extremely nice?"


    I stared in pure outrage at his face. "I do not. I''m aware of that, even. And that''s no reason to actually fall for someone. Have you really got nothing else?"


    He sighed. It was more of a grumble, actually. I realized he was running out of patience.


    "Am I so wrong to fall for a woman for her face?" he asked as he threw his hands in the air in mock surrender. "Yes, you''re pretty. Yes, I like that. Do you need any more confirmation to marry a would-be ideal husband?"


    I scoffed, loud and clear. I couldn''t believe the audacity of this guy. He was too full of himself, and someone needed to tell him that.


    "Please, Marquess," I muttered, holding up a hand. "No need to be so self assertive. I''m sure there are plenty of other women who''d beg to marry you, so I''d rather no one waste my time right now."


    "But-"


    "WHAT''S GOING ON HERE?" came a booming voice from behind the lavishly decorated carriage. The Marquess and I turned our faces in unison towards the bellow, and raised our eyebrows in surprise as a tall man in a dress coat and pants appeared from behind the carriage''s, walking with a long, smart walking stick.


    He had white blonde hair and a clean shaven face which was twisted into a mix of anger and impatience.


    "Father," Marquess Huxley mumbled. "What are you doing outside? I was just coming in in a moment, so if you please-"


    The duke gave his son a look that purely said ''Shut up'' before Marquess''s voice trailed away.


    "Let me take a look at the girl who you''ve fallen head over heels for." My eyes widened in alarm as he approached the doorway, his eyes straight on me. "Ah, who do we have here? A little sheepling, I see. Speak your name."


    I was speechless. Literally. I couldn''t say a word under the intense, unwavering gaze of this man. Still, I mustered up some courage to say, "Ashli Rivers...my lord."


    He nodded. "And have you bewitched him? My daft son has agreed to marry no one but you, so I''ve been quite curious to meet you. I didn''t know his standards were so low."


    Marquess Huxley covered his face with his hands.


    "Any adult I could talk to so we could hurriedly finalize this marriage?" he asked as he tried to look past me inside the inn.


    "Erm..." I didn''t know how to respond. "I didn''t agree to marry your son, my lord."


    "What?"


    "It''s exactly as you''ve heard," I muttered, fidgeting with my hands and a stray thread on my sleeve. "I''m not marrying him."


    He frowned. "But that''s just absurd. Why ever not?"


    I shrugged. Lame, I know. "I don''t like him."


    The duke scoffed. "What utter nonsense. Then why are we wasting our time here? Let''s leave."


    Exactly, I begged wordlessly. Get out of here.


    "What''s going on? Who''s at the door?" I turned around abruptly and there stood Mama behind me, looking at our uninvited visitors with clear puzzlement.


    I was about to tell her that it was nothing of importance when the duke let out a loud gasp behind me.


    "Ruthven Swailes!?" he exclaimed. "Is that you?"


    Mama frowned. "Damn right that''s me. Who''s asking?"


    "My God! You''re as curt as I remember. It''s been so long since I last saw you. How are you and your little ''husband'' doing?"


    Mama''s frown deepened as she tried to make sense of his words. Then it all came to light as her frown transformed into an expression of shock.


    "Lucan!? God forbid that''s you," she cried. "What the hell happened?"


    "What do you mean?" he asked, smiling smugly. "After you rejected my love, I went ahead to marry a fair girl and slowly climbed the ranks. As you can clearly see,"- he pointed to a badge on his chest, which was a strange shape with some words in the middle- "I''ve become a duke. And what of that wretched man you chose? Elric, was it? Where''s he?"


    "Dead," Mama spat. "And in a much better place than you. Now get out of my face." With that, Mama pulled me inside and slammed the door on all their faces. ""

 Chapter 92 - Lucan Huxley

    "So what was he doing at our doorstep when you told me that he had already found his bride?" Mama asked after she had quietly led me to her room.


    Ah, well. I knew this situation was coming next after the whole fiasco earlier. How could it not?


    "I said earlier," I sighed, shrugging. "We got attacked by assassins last night, so it''s a given that the event had been called off. He never got to choose the girl."


    Mama frowned, bewildered. "You weren''t kidding?"


    I shook my head. "Not at all."


    "Huh..." Mama muttered and flopped down on her armchair. "That''s crazy."


    She went quiet for a few minutes. I leaned against the wall, and the side of my head nudged against something. I looked up and saw the large unframed canvas painting of the girl in the grand dress. Where her toe pointed at the border of the canvas was the fingerprints left behind from constantly messing with it, and I held myself from stroking the uneven paint.


    "Was it a coincidence?" she suddenly spoke up again and I jerked my head towards her. "That he was his son? Lucan? Wild chance, if you ask me."


    I chuckled quietly, a bitter undertone hidden behind it. I could see how shaken Mama was after her encounter with her past lover, and to see how well he was doing without herˇ­ I couldn''t even begin to imagine her pain and envy.


    "It was good that we both escaped from a near bad relationship, wasn''t it?" I asked, my eyes readily studying her expressions.


    A small, sad smile appeared on her cracked lips. "Well, that''s another thing to add to our similarities."


    Softly, I laughed and Mama joined in. It was good to see her doing better and gathering her composure after such an encounter. My laugh withered away as I realized how much she was forcing herself to match.


    "Mama," I said to fill the deafening silence that followed, "that guy Lucan seemed really surprised to see you. But I read, um, that he knew about your inn. Did you perhaps change the location after he left?"


    She shook her head, settling into her armchair. "No, it''s been the same inn since day 1. It''s been so many yearsˇ­ It''s possible that he forgot where I lived. Also, I''ve taken down my sign board up front, so it must''ve been hard to locate the exact place. Every other building looks the same around here, anyways.."


    I nodded. "I see,"


    "Mm, yeah. He was a douchebag. I have no idea why I ever got involved with him in the first place. You don''t wanna know that story."


    I leaned forward, suddenly interested. "Do tell."


    She gave a deep sigh and poured herself some tea before settling back down, getting comfortable before she began her story.


    "Lucan Huxley. Ahh, where do I start? I suppose you already know he was a merchant. He sold milk and dry yoghurt, which made him quite a fortune, really. Sovia''s dairy is the best of all bests. Anyways, he came upon me at the marketplace and he asked for my name at once. I thought he was a perverted cat-caller, actually, so I had ignored him and went about my way. Soon after he was beside me again.


    "I lashed out at him, yelling to leave me alone. But he tried his best to convince me he wasn''t a rude passer-by; he was genuinely interested in me. We had exchanged addresses, since I had wanted him to leave me alone as soon as possible. Next thing I know he''s standing on the door of my inn. I was still new to the business so I had mistaken that his goal all along had been to get a place at my inn for a bargain-able rate. But he did nothing but have lunch and express how much he admired my beauty. He was the first person who had ever said something like that, so I was veryˇ­ I was very flattered.


    "After that we had frequent lunch dates, and he was always nothing less of a respectable gentleman. He opened the doors for me, pulled out my chair so I could sit, and always kissed my hand when dropping me off at home. On the surface, he and I might''ve looked like a perfect pair of star-crossed lovers, but I always felt that for some reason unknown to myself, I wasn''t content with what I had.


    "He and I just didn''t click. He was blunt and too full of himself. He was always undermining my efforts to work the inn, and always offered- no, he tried to force me to shut down my inn which I opened after so much blood sweat and tears. He said he wanted me to depend on him, and I kept telling him time and time again that that''s not what I really wanted. And he was bad to Lissy, oh Lord. He looked upon her with contempt, as if she was a little piece of scum coming in between his relationship with me. He refused to let her partake in our conversations or anything concerning us at all!


    "Lissy was forced to stay at the inn on nights he and I went out, even though I always wanted to take her along. Messed up, like I said. Then one day Lissy fell ill and he refused to help me out by contributing to the hospital bills. I can''t even count the number of nights Lissy passed agonizing in bed because of his refusal and utter negligence. That''s when I knew I had to find someone new.


    "As if sent by God himself, Elric came along and brightened my life like the sun he was. I never told Lucan about him, for how could I? I was afraid he''d lash out at me. That he''d get angry and hit me. He was short tempered, and hot-headed. Even Lissy, a na?ve child, cowered in his presence. Soon, our relationship became more toxic than I would''ve ever expected and he became extremely possessive of me, yelling and threatening to snap the necks of any man who so much as even looked at me. I wanted to leave him, really, I did. But I was much too scared.


    "Elric, on the other hand, gave me advice on how to lose him. He was forever helpful and even offered to face him head on, but I declined it straight away, knowing that he won''t be able to beat Lucan with his gentle nature. Lissy loved him. She was always begging to hold his hand and play with him, and he was forever letting her do it. I felt whole when I was with Elric, but I couldn''t say the same for Lucan. I always felt like I was walking on eggshells around him.


    "But then Elric proposed to me at the Pond. It was embarrassing, I admit, but I was very happy inside. The question was, how do I tell Lucan? He''d kill him. I kept the decision off for days, even though I knew who I wanted. Then came Johanne''s tea party. Elric was there. He helped us pull the whole thing offˇ­ well, before Lucan came crashing in. He had smashed open the door to Johanne''s house, cracking it at the little lock and had marched straight up to Elric before grabbing him by the neck. I think he realized his problem then and he even might''ve felt some remorse for how he treated me, because that''s the last day I ever saw him. Fortunately, no one died that day. Elric and I got married the following month, and I remember the day oh-so-clearly. It was the brightest day of my life.


    "I had thought it was the last I''d ever see of Lucan Huxley...well, until today. It was the biggest shock of my life, seeing the old man. It reminded me of his prime. He''d aged really well, actually, but I can''t even begin to imagine how he might treat his wife. She must be the most patient, most brave woman on the face of the Earth and I commend her for marrying him in the first place. And a duke! He''s become a f**cking duke! Who would''ve known that a merchant would rise the ranks like that? I never knew he was a man of such importance, never in a million years."


    I blinked.


    "So that''s how it is."


    Mama downed her tea in one gulp and gave a long, long sigh. "Yeah, I guess so. See? Douchebag."


    I nodded, agreeing with her words. "But did you, even for a moment, believe that he ever loved you?"


    Mama shrugged, her eyes on her lap. "I don''t know. Maybe he did, maybe he didn''t. I think he just wanted me for my face."


    Just like Marquess Huxley did, I thought to myself. We really were so similar.


    "Do you ever wonder if you made the right choice?" I asked, twirling a strand of hair on my finger. "Marrying Elric, I mean."


    Mama smiled as fond memories flashed in front of her eyes. She didn''t answer for a long moment. Just when I thought she had dozed off, she spoke again.


    "No. I''ve never made a choice I regretted later on."


    I smiled at her decisiveness. She was so sure about her life choices, which was one difference between us. I feel like everything I do is somehow either wrong for me or for someone else. Even now, I felt a little bit regretful about turning Marquess Huxley away. I know I shouldn''t, but I did.


    "The tea you made sucked, though," Mama commented to dissolve the silence.


    I laughed, because I knew she didn''t mean it, judging by the warm smile on her face. I was grateful for her, and how much I had learned from her. She was truly an admirable woman and a role model for sure. (Even if she was a bit blunt sometimes.)


    "Come, let''s have a cup together," she said as she patted on the ottoman beside her chair. Happily, I followed and sat down next to her and poured her, as well as myself a piping hot cup of my own blend.

 Chapter 93 - Misspeaking

    The funeral was everything but grand.


    Reynard stood between his parents'' graves and stared up at the sky.


    "What are you doing, still?" Rosa asked, tapping on his shoulder from behind him. "The men left long ago. So should we. We''ll come back here tomorrow."


    "I know," Reynard muttered lifelessly, his eyes still searching the vast blue sky. "You head out. I''ll join you in a moment."


    Rosa shrugged. "Alright, then.. I''ll be waiting."


    Reynard heard the crunching of dry leaves as she weaved her way through the many graves, and the metallic creak of the hinge of the gate that led to the outside. The cemetery was surrounded by a tall black fence with pointy tips, one an amateur grave robber could never climb. It was greased every night to stop someone from getting over it, since grave robberies were quite common in the area.


    Reynard put a hand in his pocket and felt around for the tears of paper his mother had left for him prior her death. They were still there, every little piece. At times like these, Reynard wished his parents were still alive so they could guide him, enlighten his way for himˇ­ Just like they kept on doing all those years.


    Hopelessly, he glanced back down since his neck had started to sprain from looking up and he caught sight of the two identical graves, side-by-side. His face crumpled into a state of despair and it took everything in him to stop him from crying.


    Just then, when he thought he would burst from the effort, there was a little disturbance in the calm behind him. Swiftly, he looked back and saw an old man and a small child holding stringing him along by the finger, heading their way through some graves.


    "Oh," the weak old man said as he noticed Reynard standing there all by himself. "Are you alright, young man?"


    "Grandpa, who''s that?" the small boy said in his high pitched voice, ruining the tranquility within the cemetery. He was immediately shushed by the old man.


    "Ah, I was just..." Reynard gestured vaguely towards the graves at his feet. "These are my parents." He didn''t realize his words would come out so blunt until he said them, but he was in no mood to speak and draw out his sentences.


    "I see," the old man said, smiling kindly. "Shall I pray for their well-being?"


    Reynard shrugged. "Sure."


    The man joined both his hands over his lips and bowed his head slightly as he recited prayers in his head. Impatiently, the little boy pulled on his grandpa''s shirt, trying to hurry him up.


    "Come on, grandpa!"


    The man stayed silent, mumbling under his breath. For a while, there was calm in the cemetery. Then the man dropped his arms to his side and smiled, his face so kind that it almost brought Reynard to tears.


    "I hope you have a good life, young man," the old man said as he was led away in the wind by his grandson. "Don''t let their loss get to you. There''s nowhere to go from here but up." With these last parting words, he disappeared into the distance.


    Reynard looked on with a lost expression on his face, wondering if he should take a passer-by''s advice.


    Sighing, he trotted his path, winding his way between the gravestones, leaving behind his own parents''. His mother''s white gravestone with black inscriptions read:


    ????


    Here lies


    Amice Isabella Gradral


    Year of Priestess 480 - 517


    She loved, was loved, and died.


    ????


    ˇ­


    And there was his father''s, which was black with white inscriptions, reading:


    ????


    Here lies


    Simon Emil Gradral


    Year of Priestess 478 - 517


    Father, son, friend.


    ????


    ˇ­


    As he made his way home, he thought about the old man''s words. ''There''s no way to go from here but up.'' He hoped it was true. He couldn''t afford to lose more.


    Reynard sighed angrily and walked faster, wanting to get home and go straight to bed again. He hoped sleep would solve this feeling of heartbreak and emptiness, since there was nothing else which could do so.


    At home, an aroma of freshly cooked breakfast wafted to him through the air.


    "You''re cooking already?" he asked his sister as he looked into the kitchen. Indeed, Rosa was frying fresh bacon which she had just bought on her way home. The sizzling sound made Reynard hungry again. "You know we can''t afford to buy bacon, Rosa, it''s too expensive."


    "Shh, it''s my treat," she said soothingly as she added more bacon to the pan. "Let''s eat something special today to lighten ourselves up. Our first meal without Mother and Father."


    Even the mention of them broke his heart.


    "But I think I told you that I''ve eaten already," Reynard said as he hopped on the kitchen counter beside the stove, looking hungrily at the bacon. Sitting on the counter was something their mother had never let them do, even when they were toddlers. But Rosa didn''t comment about it and let her brother stay.


    "Yes," she said as she forked the meat into a clean plate. "But I didn''t want to eat bacon alone."


    "Well, then I shall honor you with my presence at the table."


    Rosa chuckled as she rolled her eyes. It was almost as if everything was normal again. They could have just been having this kind of conversation on a normal day. But today was not a normal day. It was the day of their father''s funeral and both the siblings knew it deep down.


    "Come on," Rosa said as she grabbed a loaf of bread she had cut into slices. "Let''s go eat."


    ?


    [Back at what was once Ogden Cove]


    "Tell me, then," Mama said as she gulped down her remaining sips of tea. "Why do you think Sidmund and his pals are assassins?"


    I cupped the hot cup of tea in my hands. Well, here we go again. I didn''t know what to tell her, since she clearly trusted her old customer. And this blame on him might lead her to feeling betrayed. I gripped the cup tighter, letting the heat of the tea get to the palms of my hand, higher and higher till I couldn''t stand the pain.


    "I heard them. At the ball, I mean."


    Mama waited for me to go on, and that I did.


    "After realizing the danger he was in, the Marquess shut the event down immediately and then left, leaving behind a crowd of outraged, screeching women." I paused as Mama chuckled. "I was trying to find my way in the dark when I came upon a girl who told me all about it, how people were after the Marquess''s life."


    "Why?"


    I removed my palms from the tea cup and rubbed them against each other to soothe the pain. "Apparently, he killed his brother for the duke''s title."


    "Ohhh."


    "Yeah. So people didn''t want him to be the duke and tried to kill him, but he came here instead to get married."


    "Pssshhh. Douchebag. Like father, like son."


    I nodded. "So when people found out that he came here, to Wisteria, they sent out assassins after him, which just happened to be the group from last night. I heard them calling each other Sid and Klyn, I swear."


    Slowly, Mama nodded. "Wow. What if you died back there and never returned home? I wouldn''t even have had a clue that your killers were in my house. Ugh, I feel filthy for inviting them in now."


    "It''s okay," I said, shrugging. "The left right after they confirmed that the building was empty."


    Mama frowned. "But weren''t you all inside?"


    "We were." I smiled.


    "Then howˇ­?"


    "It was me. I told everybody to take cover under the shadows so they wouldn''t be able to see us under the moonlight. And to think that idea saved everyone''s life..."


    "Wow. Good job, lassie."


    I laughed, blushing warmly at the compliment. "Thank you. But I wasn''t able to solve the trauma all the rich girls got after that. Since I''ve lived most of my life in similar poor conditions, I was able to act despite the terror."


    Mama frowned in a strange way. I paused.


    "What do you mean?" she asked, her eyes narrow.


    I failed to understand. "Um, what?"


    "You just said you''ve been living in similar poor conditions most of your life. What do you mean by that?"


    I frowned. "Before my sister won the lottery, we literally lived in a broken down apartment complex where people in daggers roamed to steal your cash. Horrible times, those were."


    Mama scoffed unbelievably. "What the hell are you saying??? Do you mean that the emperor had another child besides you? And what is an apartment complex? Lottery, daggersˇ­ I can''t understand what you''re saying."


    I frowned, trying to process her words.


    Sister...lottery...daggersˇ­ All part of my life. My previous life. MY PREVIOUS LIFE! OH GOD, NOT THIS LIFE! I''d messed up, big time. How can I tell Mama about my life as Seonhee Lim? Nobody knows that I''ve been isekai''d yet! What have I done? I must sound like a babbling lunatic right now.


    "Oh. Oh, I''m sorry, Mama," I said hastily, trying to correct my mistake. "I-I was- I was talking about a friend, haha! She used to live in horrible conditions...and-erm- So I..." I knew my words were of no avail. I would be caught! I needed to fix this ASAP!


    "Was it really a mis-worded sentence?" she asked suspiciously, leaning forward in her chair.


    I inched back, eyes wide. Was she on to something? Was I just imagining it? I gulped and shuffled uncomfortably in my seat. Damn, where was all this sweat coming from? How do I make up a believable lie? God, help me.

 Chapter 94 - Bloody Hell

    At times like these, I wish my divine powers could have been something more useful. How would healing cuts and slashes in the skin help me in times where I needed to disappear? The power of teleportation would have been nice, or to trigger invisibility. You know, powers that could save my life where injuries were not involved.


    "Mama, I really did misspeak," I explained calmly, yet defensively. "I was just narrating the life experience of a friend. Haha." Alright, that ''Haha'' at the end was extremely unnecessary.


    Mama still wasn''t buying it. Somehow.


    "Mmm...." she said, looking at me with suspicious eyes. "Are you sure? Because that would seem highly unlikely given the situation earlier. You clearly said ''Since I''ve lived most of my life in similar poor conditions, I was able to act despite the terror.'' And you were pretty serious about it, too. I''d appreciate honesty at times like these, princess. Tell me, has your life really been the way you described it to be? But you lived at the palace!"


    "Exactly!" I exclaimed. "So how can I ever be saying something like that about myself when my whole life has been nothing but luxury." It did hurt me to lie to her, though, when she had so genuinely asked for honesty. But it''s not that she''s always been honest about herself with me, except when caught.


    She never told me she was the priestess''s descendant by herself, but spilled all about it when I said that I knew it already. In a way, that was dishonesty right there.


    Mama must''ve bought my words because she leaned back and closed her eyes.


    "There are times..." she started to say, then sighed. "There are times I wonder if you even are from this world."


    W.T.F.


    "You act so, so unlike a princess. You''re like an ordinary person unlike anything you were a few years ago. Your way of speaking differs immensely from the time you addressed the public. You walk differently, you carry yourself differently. I''ve noticed your huge dislike for heavy ball gowns. You don''t flinch in disgust when asked to do normal-people chores like cooking or cleaning. Other royalty would, y''know? So it makes me wonder: Who are you?"


    I sat there, speechless. She was right. It would strike anybody as strange, royalty cleaning the attic or making pizza. She was on to something. I gripped my cup so hard I thought it would break.


    "Well, I-" I began but cut short. I didn''t know what to say. "I realized that there''s much more to life thanˇ­than jewels and dresses." That was half true.


    She closed her eyes. "Is that so?"


    I nodded.


    For a brief moment that felt like ages, everything was calm. The grandfather clock ticked on it''s own pace, whisker''s raspy breaths rasped in the corner, and our humming breaths matched rhythmicallyˇ­ The only sounds in the room before the door burst open.


    Both of us turned our heads around in unison to a surprised Sven.


    "What happened?" I said slowly. Either he was surprised to see us both together, or maybe there was something else going on.


    "They-They''re here!" he hissed, terrified. "The assassins! Sidmund and- and- and-"


    "Wait, sonnie, hold on," Mama stopped him as she pushed herself off her armchair. "Sidmund''s here? Again?"


    He nodded, his face drenched in a cold sweat. "He''s not alone. His pals are here, too. Well, half of them know that they are."


    "What?"


    He shook his head. "You better go see yourself."


    Mama and I exchanged confused glances before both of us headed to the door.


    Outside, the atmosphere was cold and a pungent smell wafted in through the front door.


    I scrunched up my nose. "What is that?"


    Nobody answered.


    Mama threw open the door, and the sight we beheldˇ­ It was horrifying.


    Sidmund stood in front of us, holding his arm in pain. My eyes trailed down to his hand, not before I had noticed that it wasn''t even there to begin with. "Bloody hell," Mama whispered beside me, her eyes wide. Indeed, ''bloody'' is right. His whole lower arm was- It was gone. Instead there was a weak waterfall of blood that dirtied the pavement, flowing from the pace where his lower arm would have connected his biceps: The elbow.


    So that was what the smell had been, blood. As Sidmund held his bicep with his left hand to stop the blood from flowing, his rest of his body wasn''t uninjured either. One of his eyes had been- I gagged- It had been gouged out. Instead there was a red, meaty hole in place that I couldn''t even look at.


    I had been so concerned with his state that I hadn''t even noticed his pals. They leaned against one another in similar states, their bodies injured and their legs leaving behind trails of blood. Three of the men were missing, and I noticed that the two that stood had a body each hanging folded over their shoulders. One of them wasn''t here. I counted them by their facesˇ­ There were only 5 of them here, and Ben was missing.


    "Where the hell..." Mama muttered as she stood back. "Come inside."


    In utter agony, all of them limped inside. Mama didn''t care that they brought in blood with them. She most likely knew what had happened, but she stayed tight-lipped.


    "Sven, bring the seats."


    Sven nodded and ran upstairs to bring down the crates. Sidmund flopped down on one, unable to speak. His pals, Klyn and another guy called Hector threw the bodies off of their shoulders against a wall and sat down on crates themselves,


    "What about them?" Mama asked Sidmund, pointing towards the two bodies. "Shouldn''t we get them to the nearest health centre?"


    Sidmund shook his head, but didn''t say anything. From that one action, we knew they were dead. Sven, unable to stand the sight and smell of blood, retreated to his room after telling us to call him if needed. I wanted to go upstairs as well, away from all this horror, but I also didn''t want Mama to be alone with them.


    "Shall I," I tried not to gag, "bring you some water?"


    They didn''t respond.


    Ignoring me, Mama asked the men, "Tell me what happened."


    Sidmund, still unable to speak for some reason, glanced at Hector who nodded and opened his mouth to answer.


    "Uh, we got attacked."


    Mama scoffed. "Well, I can see that. Where''s Ben?"


    "They took his body with them."


    "Who did?"


    Nobody answered.


    "Look, boys, I know you were commissioned to take down Lucan Huxley''s son. So talk freely."


    There was a surprised exchange of glances between the three live men. I knew what they were probably thinking. ''How did she know?'' I didn''t want them to find out that it had been through me. Pursing my lips, I stood behind Mama, waiting for them to go on.


    "Erm, okay, uhhh..." Hector mumbled as he looked at Klyn, who didn''t say anything. "Well, yes, you''re right. We were after him. The Marquess, I mean. But it was all for the greater good! You see-"


    "I know," Mama cut in curtly. "I know why he''s wanted dead. I just want to know why you''re in the states you are in."


    Hector shuffled uncomfortably in his seat.


    "We saw his carriage drive up to this inn, so we lay in wait for it to pass by where we decided to ambush it. But our plan didn''t go as expected. We had only seen two guards emerge from the carriage, so we had thought that they were all there were. But when we ambushed, a whole swarm of guards attacked in offense and we became victims to their swords. Even our hand guns did no damage to their armor. In between that confusion, we had to flee while Ben was taken away by them."


    Sidmund hung his head low. So that''s what had happened. I stared in horror at the two dead bodies against the wall. They had been killed by Marquess Huxley''s guards. I shivered at the thought that the two men who stood at my door just a while ago had such potential.


    "And what are you going to do about these wounds, then?" Mama asked with hands on her hips. She was being stand-offish on purpose right now, as if she wanted them to leave as soon as possible.


    Sidmund exchanged a look with Hector.


    "We can''t go to public places in such states," Hector admitted. "We''re sure that the duke''s men must be looking for us already."


    I looked at Mama as she clenched her jaw.


    "And you came here, thinking I wouldn''t turn you in?" she asked angrily.


    "Yes, Mama," Hector muttered, bowing his head. "We beg of you to not do so, considering we''re still coming to terms with the death of our three companions."


    Mama sighed, folding her arms. "And what of your injuries?"


    Hector hesitated. "Would it be possible, um, if one of your children fetched us some first aid supplies from the nearest store...?"


    I interlaced my fingers and squeezed them, afraid. I didn''t want to be caught up in this situation. I just wanted to go away!


    "I have a better idea," Mama said and then tugged at my arm. I looked at her, confused. "Give us a second."


    With that parting statement, Mama pulled me away to her room, closing the door behind her.


    "What?" I said, eyes wide.


    "I want them out as soon as possible," she replied, taking my hands. "And you''ll help me with that."


    I frowned. "Huh?"


    She squeezed my hands. "You said you have healing powers, didn''t you?"


    I didn''t reply for a while, trying to process what she meant. It took me a while to connect the dots together, and I did not like the picture it created.


    "Oh no," I hissed, pulling my hands out of hers. "No way. No, no, no, no."


    "But yes!"


    "You don''t mean-"


    "Yes!"


    I groaned, "Mama..."


    "But you can heal them!" Mama said excitedly. "It''ll be much quicker than first aid. Then we can get them out of here."


    I sighed. "Mama, we don''t know how they''ll react to my powers. We can''t trust them with that big of a secret."


    "Hush! We won''t let them know."


    I frowned. "How?"


    She smiled. "We''ll pretend it''s some magic medicine. Since they''re so broken, they''ll believe it. Trust me."


    "Are you sure?" I asked as I held my ponytail. This was crazy.


    "Yep. Just follow my lead."

 Chapter 95 - Wonder Ointment

    I walked behind her with my ponytail clenched in my hands.


    Sidmund, Hector and Klyn all looked up at once as we emerged from Mama''s room. They didn''t say anything, but just kept looking at us to initiate conversation again.


    "You all are in luck today," Mama announced in a booming voice. All three men perked up. "Fortunately, we have some ointment at home that can help your injuries."


    All of them looked at her as if she had gone crazy.


    "Mama," Hector began bravely. "Are you sure mere ointment can heal all this?" He pointed towards Sidmund''s stub of an arm which still dripped blood, and then to a large slash on the side of his waist, drenching his black shirt in visible blood. It was daft to recommend an ointment in this situation, even I knew that. But what else could we do?


    "Don''t worry!" I spoke up. Sidmund, Klyn and Hector turned to look at me. Suddenly, I felt uncomfortable bringing all the attention to myself. "This ointment is not like any other; it does wonders."


    Everybody except Mama and I exchanged glances. "Are you sure?"


    "Absolutely," Mama responded and nudged me. "Go upstairs and lay down on any of the beds. We''ll bring the ointment right in."


    There was a moment of hesitance. Then, groaning, the men stood to their feet and headed upstairs while Mama ushered me back to her room.


    "Okay, what now?" I hissed as I shut the door behind me.


    "Sh-sh-shush. Calm down," she muttered as she went to her set of drawers and fished around in the lowest one. Then she handed me a bowl. "Put some hair in there."


    I winced as I took it. My scalp was going to face some serious pain after this.


    "How much do we need?" I asked as I slipped off my hair tie and let my hair dangle to my knees.


    "Mmˇ­ 20? 30?" she said as she looked up at me.


    I frowned. "That much?"


    She shrugged. "One for every injury. No excuses. Just drop them in there."


    I sighed and got to work. I decided to break the hair in groups of 5. I gathered the first lot and with a deep sigh and a prayer to God, I yanked them from their roots and felt the pain wash over my scalp.


    "Ouuuuuch!" I wailed as I rubbed the painful area, the hair in my other hand.


    "Good job, good job," Mama muttered without even looking up. She had pulled out several glass jars of what seemed like different color goo- or ointment- and she was twisting open the lids of each one before taking a sniff at them.


    "What are you doing?" I asked, rubbing my scalp still.


    "Searching-" she said as she paused to sniff at a jar and then crumple up her face in disgust. "Phew! Searching for ointment. I didn''t know I''d accumulated so many jars of ''weird things'' over time. I thought I would have ointment, but I really can''t tell which one it is. They all look like sticky goo, and that''s what ointment basically is. I don''t want to pick whatever and then infect their wounds."


    I watched her sniff some more jars before I turned back to my own task. I gathered 5 more strands, cringing at the thought that I would have to do this four more times again.


    Ughh, the electric pain when someone yanks out your hairˇ­ I''m no stranger to it. Back in Daegu, and it just hurts me to say this, I barely saved myself from getting kidnapped once.


    It was a weird neighborhood where we lived. The police rarely answered our phones. Gangsters roamed the street. Even when I went to the local park, I had to stay in areas where there were a lot of people and I had a less chance of getting picked on.


    But at that time, I was coming back from getting some groceries. Usually, it was my eldest sister who did this job whenever she was coming home from work. But my sister was working overtime that day and none of my other sisters were willing to go instead of her, so that only left me.


    I had picked up the tattered cloth bag that hung at the back of our door and headed out with the key in my pocket. Everything had gone smoothly, until the time came for me to return back.


    It had all happened in a moment. Hands grabbed at my shirt, my hair. The people, men, I presumed struggled to pull me in their wan since I was flailing the shopping bag full of groceries at their faces. I had many bald spots for months after that, since the men had tried to pull me by my short bob. I shiver even when I think about it.


    "Are you okay?" Mama asked, shaking me by the shoulder. "Did you put in 30 hairs already?"


    "Uhm, just a moment," I mumbled as I shook awake from my trance of thoughts. I quickly broke the remaining hair and put them in the bowl, trying to unsuccessfully conceal the electric pain that shot through my body from each pull.


    "Here you go," I said as I handed the bowl to Mama.


    Mama took the bowl and whispered numbers as she counted the hair. "Okay, let''s see here..." She took a jar with something grey-green inside and dumped its whole contents into the bowl with my hair.


    I watched in shock as she swished around with her bare hands the contents of the bowl to mix them up. I looked away, trying not to gag.


    "Will this even work with it being mixed in ointment?" I asked, my eyes at the large painting on her wall.


    "What do you mean?" The sticky, goo-ey noises continued behind me.


    I shrugged. "Reynard and I tried to check if my hair still had the powers after it was covered with dye, and yes, it did. But I''m not sure mixing it with thick ointment will be the same."


    She didn''t say anything for a few minutes. "Let''s try it, shall we? Where''s my knife?''


    I turned around, alarmed. "Knife?" But she was already pointing a dagger at her palm. "Mama, no!"


    "Shh," she hushed me and proceeded to make a thin cut over her hand, not even flinching at the sight of the thin trickle of blood that flowed out. Then she scooped up a finger of ointment out of the bowl, and I could see a thin strand of my hair wedged in there. I watched in anticipation as the green-grey substance was slathered on her palm. God, please make it work! I do not want to look like a fool in front of her.


    A moment passed by, and I thought nothing would happen. But then, right in front of our eyes, the ointment began to glow white very, very slightly and my eyes widened as her wound stitched shut. It was nothing short of a miracle, and no matter how many times I witnessed at it, it never failed to amaze me.


    "Fascinating," Mama breathed, as if in a daze. She rubbed off the excess ointment off of her palm and paused to notice that the hair in it had disappeared. I stood there in awe of my own incredibility as Mama inspected her hand from all angles.


    "Wow, this is amazing!" Mama muttered as she brushed a gentle finger on the palm that had been wounded just a second ago. It looked brand new right now, probably even younger.


    Mama coughed and stood straight, regaining her composure. "Shall we go upstairs, then?"


    I smiled and nodded. Let''s see how Mama lies her way out of this one.


    As we ascended the stairs, I held my nose since the stench of blood kept getting stronger. I wondered how Sven would be faring in this situation. It seemed as if he couldn''t stand the sight and stench of blood, so I hope he was okay.


    Anyways, we went into the first room and with an unfortunate stroke of bad luck, Klyn lay there with a hand over his hand.


    "What was your anime again?" Mama asked as she put the heavy bowl on the nightstand beside Klyn''s head. He didn''t answer Mama''s question. "Oh, so we''re not talking now, are we?" Mama scoffed as she scooped up some ointment from the bowl, carefully making sure she took a hair with it. "Which wound first?"


    Still lying down, Klyn pointed to his legs. Our eyes trailed there and widened in shock at the sight of the deep red-black gash over there. Under his leg, the bedsheet was stained red. Mama moved closer to the wound and with the strong intent not to hurt him, she slathered the ointment on.


    Klyn flinched as he felt the cold medicine come in contact with his warm skin.


    "No moving!" Mama chastised and Klyn went back to normal. "Ashli bring the bowl here."


    I did and asked and went back to pick the bowl from the nightstand. As I did, I noticed Klyn''s eyes on me. A shiver ran down my spine as I matched his intimidating gaze and went back to attend beside Mama.


    "Put the ointment over the cuts on his arms," Mama instructed me quietly. "His leg''s just about healed up."


    I nodded.


    "Your arm, please," I said to Klyn as I approached his...erm...upper body. He remained silent and motionless for what seemed like 10 minutes, but couldn''t have been more than a few seconds. Then with a grunt, he removed the arm off of his face and put it to his side. Taking it as a sign to carry on, I applied our Wonder Ointment on the largest of his sword slashes, flinching every time his arm trembled under my touch.


    "Am I being too harsh on your skin?" I whispered but received no reply. Shrugging, I moved onto his other arm and I hoped to God Klyn wouldn''t notice the slight glow that the ointment transmitted every time it came in contact with the cuts.


    I noticed that while I had been attending to his wounds, he had dozed off. Relieved, I applied ointment to his face and stood back to admire my handiwork. Mama also seemed to be done with the wounds on his lower body.


    "He''s as good as new. I just hope he doesn''t have any more injuries on his back side," Mama whispered to me. "Your divine powers are really coming in handy, huh? We should''ve put them to good use long ago. Anyways, shall we move on to the second person, then?"


    I smiled and nodded, ointment bowl in hand.


    "Of course."

 Chapter 96 - Loss After Loss

    Holding the ointment bowl in my hand, I followed Mama to Room#2 where lay Hector sprawled on the bed in the most awkward position I had ever seen.


    "Are you okay?" Mama asked as she approached the bed.


    He groaned in reply and turned to look at Mama''s face, his own twisted in pain.


    "Oookay," Mama mumbled as she placed the bowl on the nightstand and turned to examine Hector''s wounds. "Where do we need work, eh?"


    "W-Waist," Hector said with difficulty. He turned his body to the side so that the red, puckered wound that trickled blood was up in the air.


    Mama nodded. "That''s one bad cut. But it doesn''t seem as if any organs were cut along with it, since it doesn''t go too deep. You''re one lucky man.."


    Hector scoffed in pain and disbelief. "Yeah, right."


    Mama frowned. "You should be glad you weren''t in Sidmund''s place, boy."


    Hector went silent. Mama scooped up some ointment and slowly started applying it to the wound, making sure a hair strand went directly over the worst part.


    "So tell me about your life," Mama said calmly as if she was a doctor about to give some child a vaccine shot, speaking to keep him distracted. "How come you ended up as an assassin?"


    Hector remained silent for a few minutes, flinching occasionally under Mama''s dabbing fingers. I thought he was asleep, but then he let out a long sigh.


    "Being an assassinˇ­ My past self would be disappointed in me if he saw me like this," Hector muttered bitterly and quite calmly, finally getting used to the ointment. "I was a blacksmith, originally. One of the best in the Lands of Sovia. But then the rumor about the wretched Huxley boy arose and disrupted the people of the Lands to their core. There were public outcries, protests, riots...you name it. My business was booming since people started to buy swords and axes and such in order to kill the Huxley boy. But then this foreign man showed up one day and set shop right across the street from me, selling this new technology called ''Handguns''. It stole all my customers from me." He sniffed. "My blacksmith hut shut down soon after since I was barely earning a few silvers all day. It wasn''t enough to feed my whole family of eight. I thought I would be better off a dead man. But then..." He paused, apparently thinking.


    Mama had moved on from the wound on his waist to the large gash on his back.


    "Then what?" she asked, trying to keep him talking.


    "Then someone put up notes all over the town post boards. They were looking for strong men to form an official assassination team, or something like that. And they promised a handsome award if the team succeeded in their mission. Hundreds were signing up, and since I wasn''t earning bread from my blacksmiths'' stall, I decided to apply along. What did I have to lose at that point?"


    "And that''s where you met Sidmund?" Mama asked, genuinely interested.


    "Yes, he was a trainee just like myself. And we had an amazing time at the training center. One of a kind. I made myself a lot of buddies there, and my pal Ben generously lent me a lot of money to feed my family back home while I was away. Too bad he''s probably dead now."


    There was a grieved silence for a while before Hector carried on.


    "Anyways, some people were dispatched to Wisteria when rumors spread that the Huxley boy had run away to marry. Other dispatches were sent to neighboring empires like Clatoise and such. But we confirmed he was here and then the job was left up to us. The people back in the Lands were counting on us. Judging by the vigorous training we were given, no one was expecting anybody to die in the attempt. But-But-But," he sighed to calm his nerves, "Alan and Lloyd are dead. So is Ben, probably. There''s no way they would''ve let him live. To think that we can''t do anything about it, it''s just- just..."


    "We know how you feel, Hector," Mama said soothingly, dabbing at a large wound on his forehead. "Best anyone can do for him is pray for his safety."


    Hector muttered something under his breath but didn''t reply. Then after a moment, he turned swiftly on his back, his eyes wide.


    "Wait, what is this?" he asked, craning his neck to peer at the wound on his waist. It was gone, wiped clean as if it was never there to begin with. He raised his shirt further up his torso, obviously trying to look for his wound. "Am I seeing things? Where is it?"


    "Where''s what?" Mama asked, placing the bowl back on the table.


    Hector looked up, his face in a state of puzzlement and shock. "The wound! It''s gone??"


    Mama Ruth laughed out loud as she looked at me. I smiled awkwardly, but inside, I was going crazy with nervousness.


    "Like I said earlier," I muttered through gritted teeth, trying to appear jolly. "This ointment works wonders."


    Hector spluttered, trying to feel the cuts on his arms and back. When he felt nothing, he just sat there for a moment, trying to absorb everything in.


    "There''s absolutely no way," he cried, appalled. "It''s mere ointment! How can it erase any traces of wounds inflicted by blades? And in just a few moments! It''s absolutely impossible."


    Mama leaned against the bed frame, a smug look on her face. "Never underestimate the power of ointment."


    I tried to smile. "All hail ointment."


    While Hector spluttered some more, we quickly hurried out. On to the next room, I thought happily. Was my power really such a wonderful miracle? It made me feel -I don''t know- powerful! Like I was finally coming into some good use.


    But when we went into Sidmund''s room, he was already dead.


    "Good Lord, Sidmund, wake up," Mama said, shaking him by the shoulder. He had left a big trail of blood to my room and now he lay lifeless on the floor, his back to us.


    "Has he fainted?" I asked, afraid.


    Mama shrugged, crouching down to shake him harder. "Sidmund! Get off the floor!"


    But he never responded.


    "Goodness, d''ya know how to check a pulse?" Mama asked, turning to me. "I never know what to feel, so you do it for me. I hope he''s just out cold, though."


    I nodded and crouched by his neck before putting two fingers to his jugular. I waited for a good minute to feel the pulse, but I knew deep inside that all efforts would be of no avail.


    Eventually, I stood up with trembling legs and faced Mama.


    "He''s dead," I mouthed the words to her, unable to say them out loud.


    Mama frowned. "Huh?"


    "He''s dead, Mama Ruth."


    Mama went silent as she stared at the body.


    "Sh*t," she mumbled, stepping away from the growing puddle of blood under his body. "Another person who went ahead and died on me. Amazing."


    "Mama, he didn''t intend to."


    "Whatever. Let him be."


    I flopped down on my bed, defeated. "Shouldn''t we do something?"


    Mama scoffed as she put the bowl of ointment on my nightstand and bore over the body, examining the damage. "Shouldn''t we do anything about the two other bodies downstairs? Of course we do. Sh*t, this place reeks. Where''s Sven?"


    I bit my bottom lip as I watched Sidmund''s lifeless body sprawled on my floor, lifeless and unmoving. It was a shame, really. Though I barely knew these men, their losses did indeed make me sad. I wonder how Hector would respond when we tell him about Sidmund''s passing away.


    "Does a severed arm kill people?" I asked in a daze.


    Mama shrugged. "Dunno. This seems like death caused by loss of blood. You see that puddle of red under him? All his. I''m surprised he even made it till here."


    I pursed my lips. "Hm. Sven''s in his room."


    "Yeah, well. He never liked blood," she muttered as she flopped down on the bed beside me. "I think he''s phobic to the sight and stench."


    "Hemophobia," I said before thinking, then I remembered maybe the term wasn''t even created yet.


    "What?" Mama asked, looking at me all confused.


    "Nothing. So what do we do with these people?"


    Mama shrugged. "Send them on their way. I know it may seem heartless but I don''t want to become a suspect for supporting assassins. Got too much on my plate already."


    "Mama, shall I leave?"


    The question was too sudden so she paused to think for a moment.


    "What?" she asked, appalled.


    I shrugged lazily. "I just- I think I''m a burden on you. I''ve unconditionally asked you for so, so much, and you''ve given it all to me, be it food, shelter, securityˇ­ I think it''s time I find a new place to live. I can''t always be leeching off of you. Even if you say I can, it just doesn''t seem right to me. So I''ve been thinking about moving out lately, but I wanted to know what you thought about it before I made a decision."


    Mama didn''t say anything for a few minutes. Then, "Alright, you can leave."


    I wasn''t expecting that answer, so it hit me in the face like a hard, crunchy slap. I sat back, shocked. I thought she would ask me to stay, that it''ll be fine here. And honestly? I hoped that would''ve been the case. I didn''t want to leave. I couldn''t! I had nowhere else to go.


    But now she was saying that it''s alright for me to move out?


    What do I say? No???


    I studied Mama''s expression for any signs of kidding, but she was dead serious. Her face was cold and stony.


    "Mama, are you sure you want me to go?"


    I waited in anticipation of her answer as she opened her mouth to announce her final verdict.

 Chapter 97 - The Real Enemy

    I held my breath, waiting for Mama to decide.


    "So?" I asked. She was taking too long to answer. She pursed her lip and sat there, her eyes looking into mine. I smiled, oblivious. "Mama?"


    Then she sighed. "You asked if I''m sure..."


    "Yes." I nodded. Please say no..


    "My answer is..."


    I gulped.


    "She sighed again. "My answer is no."


    I nodded, relieved. Thank God.


    "B-But why do you say that?" I asked, tilting my head innocently to the side.


    She held her face in her hands and rubbed her eyes. "I don''t know."


    I put a hand on her knee and patted gently. "Come on, Mama, there must be a reason. Why do you want me to stay?"


    Mama stopped rubbing her eyes and held her face in her hands for a long moment. Silently, I slid my hand away from her knee and put it limply in my lap. She was thinking about something. Was she actually thinking about how to tell me nicely to leave? Had she changed her mind about me?


    "I didn''t want to admit this to anybody," she said suddenly, her face still behind her hands. "But you really do remind me of my daughter."


    I blinked. I reminded her of Lissy?


    "You are the same age as her when she, you know, died. You''re similar to her in so many waysˇ­ For a while, it felt like she had been sent back to me. I cried nights before you appeared at my door, but afterwards, I''ve been feeling so much better."


    I blinked again, trying to absorb her words.


    "But then suddenly, I remember that you''re so, so different from her in so many other ways, too. You walk differently, you talk differently, you look different. And when I notice you being your own self, reality hits me like a bulldozer. So like I said, I don''t know. Just- No, I don''t want you to leave. You''re like a daughter to me, and it would break my heart to see you go."


    I sniffed, bringing in the sharp stench of blood with me, but I couldn''t care less. This was the first time I had been regarded as a daughter. Not even my own mother liked for me to be called her daughter. I was always a lowly piece of scum to her. Nothing but that.


    My sniff made Mama look up.


    "Are you crying?" she asked, her face a picture of worry.


    I hadn''t even felt the tears flow down my cheeks. I wiped a hand under my eye and blinked at the sight of my wet palm. Slowly, my vision began getting blurry until I couldn''t keep my sorrows in, and that''s when I really realized how much Mama''s words had meant to me.


    Mama reached out and put her arms around me. Gratefully, I let her embrace me, my own arms hanging limply by my sides. That night, I cried myself to sleep. And the whole time, I knew perfectly well that I trusted Mama with all my heart. Even at her age, she had been the mother I never had.


    ?


    [The Imperial Palace]


    The day was cold and the light breeze wafted in through the bedroom window.


    A bed-headed Yvonne sat up in bed and stretched her arms into the air, yawning elegantly.


    "Ahh, ," she sighed as her eyes turned to her balcony. She could see the early sky through the large, floor-to-ceiling glass doors, and today it was a light shade of blue, almost white.


    Taking her sweet time, she slipped on her slippers and trotted against her grand red carpet she had selected specifically for her chambers. It was gorgeous, with golden embroidery on the edges and patterns all over.


    Yvonne went over to her large mirror and looked at her reflection in it, frowning at a small, almost invisible spot on her cheek. Then she turned to go to the connected bathroom where two maids were already preparing for her early morning bath.


    "Good morning, Your Highness," the maids recited in unison and curtsied in her presence. "Shall we arrange a herbal bath for today or would you like a rose petal bath instead?"


    "A rose petal bath would be sufficient, Wessey, Tmara," she replied decisively, kindly nodding in each of their directions.


    "Yes, Your Highness." The maids curtsied once more and hastily ran off to get the rose petals for her bath. It was a lovely morning routine, really, especially now that the weather had gotten so chilly. A warm bath was all she yearned for as she stood in the white marble bathroom, donning only a soft bathrobe.


    "Stace!" Yvonne called for her head maid, her singsong voice echoing in the grand bathroom. "Stace!"


    "G-Good morning, Your Highness!" Stace burst into the bathroom with a tall stack of papers in her arms. She placed them with a ''thump'' on the long bathroom counter and tried to catch her breath. "Goodness."


    "Where were you?" Yvonne asked good-humoredly as she approached her head maid who seemed to be in a lot of distress at the moment.


    Stace bent over and groaned. "Ah, I had work, Your Highness. I''m terribly sorry. The Emperor gathered all the ladies'' head maids in the hall."


    "What for?" Yvonne asked as she slipped off a paper from the top of the stack and scanned her eyes over it.


    Stace was ready to launch into her story. "Would you believe it! He''s assigned the ladies a task! It''s the first time this has happened in years."


    "Task?" Yvonne muttered as she took another paper off the stack and started reading it, too. "What kind?"


    Stace waved an annoyed hand in the air, her eyes on a bottle of lotion on the shelves. "Some assemblage. This is all the information he gave each of us, though everyone got a different stack of knowledge. Separate tasks, I assume, or at least that''s what Dorothy told me. Anyways," Stace slapped a hand on the top of the pile of papers she just brought in, "we have some work to do. Shall we get to it? Are you done with your morning routine?"


    Just then, Wessey and Tmara emerged into the bathroom with a bag of rose petals in their hands. Stace frowned.


    "You still haven''t bathed?" she asked, going to take a look at the pristine, waterless bath tub. "But it''s almost breakfast time! You''re running awfully late today."


    But Yvonne wasn''t listening. She was much more interested in what the paper in her hand was saying.


    ''Duty assigned hereby to Lady Yvonne Sumner, mistress to the glorious Imperial Emperor of Wisteria: Prepare an adequate guest list for the event, satisfying all the requirements below....''


    Yvonne stopped reading. A guest list? She had to write up a guest list for the event?


    "Your Highness! We''ve drawn up your bath," Wessey said patiently for the third time, since the lady wasn''t at all listening. "Your Highness!"


    "Yes?" Yvonne shook awake from her daze. By God! She''d be the one in charge of who and who did not attend the event! Oh, what joy! She wondered how she could exploit this task to her needs, for it was certainly something she needed to make good use of.


    With her maids'' guidance, Yvonne slipped off her robes and stepped into the warm water bath, letting the stray rose petals tickle against her skin. She leaned her head against a neck rest attached to the bathtub edge and felt her body being enveloped by warmth.


    "Ahh, how relaxing," Yvonne mumbled as she sniffed the aroma of fresh matched with the clean marble smells. "Okay, so. Stace. Tell me more about this event whilst I finish my bath."


    Efficiently, Stace brought back a few pages from the stack of papers and began scanning them.


    "Alright, so it says hereˇ­ This is going to be a small tea party just for the ladies."


    Yvonne raised her eyebrows. "Oh?" Was the Emperor doing this so that the ladies could regain their selves after the princess''s funeral ceremony?


    "Yes." Stace nodded, her brown hair hanging loosely in a bun behind her head. "And it also says here that every mistress has been assigned with a different task regarding the small assemblage. As far as I know, Lady Chamillet has been charged with the task of decor, Lady Atraxil has been assigned the duty of selecting the types of teas to be served, whereas Lady Rovan will draw up a snack menu. Lady Virak has been assigned to manage the entertainment, Lady Obsilia will be choosing the dressing theme and finally, Lady Neredras will be- I heard she''ll be excused from the event altogether."


    "What?" Yvonne frowned, puzzled. "Why?"


    Stace shrugged, her expression relaying that she was clearly hiding something.


    "Stace, tell me."


    Her maid struggled to keep the secret in, and her gossiping nature finally showed through. "Okay, fine." Then she lowered her voice to a whisper, making sure nobody heard her voice but her lady. "Lady Neredras has been just recently admitted to the infirmary under suspicious circumstances. We all believe it''s Lady Obsilia''s doing."


    Yvonne chuckled bitterly. "What has that snake done now?"


    Stace scoffed. "Believe me, Your Highness. You don''t wanna know. But I''ll tell you still." Stace looked both ways before leaning in and whispering, "Lady Neredras ate a fruit brought allegedly to her by Lady Neredras and instantly fell sick. She''s been in bed ever since, throwing up every few minutes, I''ve seen her myself, Your Highness, and let me tell you, that looks exactly like food poisoning."


    "And you think Elora poisoned her on purpose?"


    Stace nodded, her eyes wide. "How else could she fall sick after eating an apple? It''s actual poison, I''m telling you."


    Yvonne chuckled to herself, no humor in the little laugh. "But whatever does she have against poor Enya?" That''s when it hit her. It had been Enya who had spilled about Elora being a horrible, vile person. Had the news reached her so soon? Did she try to poison Enya to eliminate any threats for her future?


    "Like I said, we all think it''s Lady Obsilia. I mean, who else would do such a thing?" Stace cried, flailing her arms in the air. "I don''t know what the Emperor sees in that witch, but if I see any more of my coworkers emerge bruised from her room, I''m gonna-"


    "Wait, you''ve seen it, too?" Yvonne asked, surprised.


    Stace scoffed. "Of course! We have this little union, the maids. We tell each other everything. And whenever I see some of my companions get fired because of how ''incapable'' they are according to Lady Obsilia, I can''t help but send letters of consolation to them. And then they send back outraged replies, blaming Lady Obsilia for such vile acts and how they were really just fired because the lady didn''t want anything to know about the bruises. Really, I could just spit!"


    Yvonne gazed into the water for a long time, thinking it all over. There was a huge possibility that Elora was just eliminating threats that could hinder her path to the throne. Did she really think Enya would give her a hard time becoming Empress? How foolish.


    She was yet to realize who her real enemy was.

 Chapter 98 - Hostile Dining

    Today Yvonne decided to dress in a simple but elegant dress she had brought from Clatoise amongst other things. Stace and the other maids helped Yvonne put it on since it had a very tight corset sewn underneath the top bodice.


    "That''s a bold choice of color for today," Stace commented on Yvonne''s sunny dress. "Are you sure you want to show up like that whilst everyone else still prefers to wear black?"


    Yvonne shrugged. Stace sighed.


    "Okay, hair up or down?" she asked lazily as she brought Yvonne to the tall, chic mirror, a comb poised in the air.


    Yvonne thought for a moment. "It''s too cold for an updo, so let''s just style it down today."


    At once, the maids got to work. Meanwhile, Yvonne decided to ask Stace about her schedule..


    "What''s on our schedule today?"


    Stace, with a clearing of her throat, brandished a pad of paper from some hidden pocket and went over it. "First on our list is breakfast, as usual. After that we have to spend some time with the other mistresses in the Ladies'' Room. In the afternoon, we have a light luncheon and tea with the ladies. You have plenty of time in between to prepare for the upcoming tea party event. We also have to attend a foreign reception here at the palace, held for the lovely diplomats of the Lands of Sovia, where we must also attend dinner at the grand table alongside the Emperor. There''s a lot to do today. I hope you aren''t too distressed."


    Yvonne shook her head, her red, bouncy hair shaking with it.


    "I''ll be fine. But do you reckon we can make time in-between to visit Lady Neredras at the infirmary?" she asked with a worried look on her face.


    Stace studied the list and then pointed at the space between ''Breakfast'' and ''Spend time in the Ladies'' Room''. "We can go right after breakfast."


    Yvonne nodded. "Great." she sighed. "Thanks, ladies, but I think that''s enough combing." Wessey and Tmara retreated from their lady''s head and conflated against the background in silence.


    Stace tutted. "Come on, you''ll be the last one to show up at the table, Your Highness!"


    Yvonne smiled sweetly as she stood up and away from the mirror after giving herself one keen look. "Alright, I''m going. Bring in my shoes, Wessey."


    Wessey obeyed and brought back from Yvonne''s closet a gorgeous pair of yellow slippers that matched well with her yellow dress. Though the Empire was still in mourning, Yvonne wanted to show today that all would get better. And she dressed this way because she really knew that the cunning princess wasn''t even dead.


    "Shall we head out then?" she beamed, applying a red rouge on her lips and on her cheeks. "I''m starving."


    ?


    Yvonne made her way through the corridors to the grand dining room, her head maid in tow to her.


    "Are you still unfamiliar with the directions?" Stace asked, chuckling.


    Yvonne frowned. "How could you tell? I''m struggling to find the dining room even though I''ve been there at least ten times now. Won''t you help me?" She pouted and Stace had to give in.


    "Yeah, yeah," she sighed. "Follow me, O'' Great Lady!"


    Yvonne laughed and followed Stace''s footsteps as she expertly led her through the corridor and around corners until the double doors to the grand dining room were right there.


    "Alright," Stace whispered as she touched up Yvonne''s hair, her own a mess. "Run along now, go on. And don''t forget to greet all the mistresses even if you don''t like some of them."


    Yvonne frowned. How had Stace known that? She had never talked bad about any of the ladies other than Elora due to her bursting outrage, but other than that, her tongue had been spotless.


    Stace gave her a nudge. "I''m off to the kitchens. I need sustenance as well. Go!"


    Yvonne hesitated but sighed and curtsied to the two guards stationed on each side of the door after which she was let in.


    "Your Majesty, look who''s here!"


    Elora had been the one to speak up, and when both their eyes met, there was a jolt of hostile energy that passed in between.


    "Your Majesty," Yvonne said, curtsying. "Allow me to dine with you." It was a routine statement, and Yvonne hated asking for permission when she knew it was unnecessary.


    "Yes, yes, dear," the Emperor grunted, his face behind a paper in his hand. "Sit wherever."


    Yvonne stood up and sat down in an empty seat beside Elora. She didn''t want to, of course, but it would have been awkward to let the seat remain unoccupied since all the other empty chairs were most farther away from the Emperor. Yvonne also did not want to indicate any hostility amongst her and the mistresses, since that would only cause problems for her.


    "Good morning, Lady Obsilia," Yvonne said kindly, but there was a bitter undertone to her voice.


    Elora smiled a smile which was clearly strained and forced. "Good morning. Would you like me to pour you a cup of my favorite blend?"


    Yvonne scoffed to herself. She knew that if Elora was to pour anyone tea, she''d surely spill it on someone''s dress on purpose, or shall we say, ''accidentally''.


    "No, but thank you," Yvonne replied as she put a napkin on her lap. "I''d rather not have tea today. Lady Rovan, may I trouble you to pass me a glass of orange juice?"


    Lorelei, who had been buttering a slice of bread, perked up.


    "Oh, yes. Of course," she mumbled and passed her the glass after pouring one. "Here you are."


    "Thank you." Yvonne smiled as she reached over the table. Elora scoffed.


    "Lady Sumner, may I ask you something?" Elora asked with a fake smile on her face.


    Yvonne raised her eyebrows. "No, you may not."


    Elora frowned. "What?"


    Yvonne put a slice of meat and bread on her plate beside some gravy and started to eat. "Has nobody ever taught you that talking whilst one eats is the height of disgrace? No good lady would disturb others at the table. I''m disappointed, Lady Obsilia, really, I am."


    Everyone stared with wide eyes of shock at Yvonne who calmly continued to slice into her meat. Elora, though, was offended.


    "Are you kidding me?" she spat, her voice low so that the Emperor wouldn''t hear her. "Don''t you try to mess with me, you despicable woman. I won''t have anyone talk down on me, especially not a newbie."


    Yvonne chuckled. "You''re still talking, Lady Obsilia?" she said loud enough for the Emperor to hear.


    Elora went silent in her seat, her face as red as a beet. She had never been disrespected before, not like this. This vermin dared to talk to her like she was better than her? Elora couldn''t stand this. She was outraged. She stabbed a fork into her meat and seethed with bubbling anger.


    Everyone continued on with their meals silently. The atmosphere was uncomfortable, perhaps that''s what the Emperor noticed because he spoke up with a whole-hearted laugh.


    "Ho-ho! How are you all finding the tasks I assigned to each of you this morning?" he asked, putting down the piece of parchment in his hand.


    Nobody replied at first, but then Odette spoke up from down the table.


    "I believe it is a good opportunity for all of us to showcase ourselves in society again, especially after everything that happened."


    Everyone nodded in agreement.


    "But won''t a much too grand tea party be inappropriate considering the circumstances?" Lorelei asked before biting into bread.


    Yesenia raised her hand from the front of the table. "We can''t always be living our lives in the past. We must show everyone that everything will be fine in the coming days. A tea party is a genius idea, Your Majesty."


    The Emperor beamed with happiness. "I''m flattered, my dear. But remember, ladies. I have decided to trust you all with this task knowing that you all can handle what is assigned to you. But in case you have forgotten, we have a reception tonight, so I hope you would pay mind to that as well. You must dress for the occasion, not too grand, but also not too plain."


    "Yes, Your Majesty," they all responded in unison.


    "We won''t disappoint you!" Elora squealed, clapping her hands together. "Ooh, this is going to be so much fun!"


    Yvonne rolled her eyes. Then she turned her face to her other side where sat Christabel Virak, silently staring into her plate of meat and bread. She had yet to touch her meal, and most strangely, she hadn''t spoken a world yet. Was something wrong with her?


    "Lady Virak, are you alright?" Yvonne asked, touching her arm gently. Christabel didn''t even flinch.


    "Let her be," Lorelei said from across the table.


    "What?"


    "Please. Just let her be for the meantime." The grave tone of Lorelei''s voice led Yvonne to believe that something was going on. But she decided not to prod further since that was extremely unlady-like.


    Everyone finished their breakfasts and headed outside after curtsying before the Emperor.


    "What''s the matter with her?" Yvonne asked Lorelei once they were outside, her face bearing a worried expression.


    Lorelei sighed, leaning against a wall. "She stopped talking after the princess''s funeral. And no matter how much I try to soothe her and ask her to relay her grief to me, she never speaks. It''s the most concerning situation."


    Yvonne frowned. Was this really true? If yes, then it indeed was a situation worth worrying over.


    "How long has she been like that?"


    Lorelei shrugged. "Since the funeral. I told you."


    Yvonne nodded. "Hmm. Was she taken to the infirmary?"


    Lorelei nodded. "Yes. But there was nothing they could do for her."


    "What about some mental institute?"


    Lorelei gasped. "God, no. She hates those places. I''m just hoping that time will heal all wounds."


    They both looked at the floor in silence. Yvonne couldn''t believe what she was hearing. She had seen people lose loved ones numerous times, and the after effects lasted for a long, long time. But nobody was ever this bad.


    "It sure is taking a long time, huh?" Yvonne muttered.


    Lorelei smiled sadly. "Yes."

 Chapter 99 - A Visit To The Infirmary

    After talking to Lorelei, Yvonne followed the second thing on her schedule.


    With her hair flowing like flames behind her and her yellow dress just adding to the effect, she strode through the palace corridors in search of the Royal Infirmary. Luckily, she knew where it was from the last time she visited it with Physician Eldar, which had not been too long ago.


    Yvonne slowed down as she approached the two large doors with immensely gorgeous carvings on the front and reached for the handle.


    "Excuse me," someone with an extremely strict and sharp voice said. "State your name and business."


    Yvonne turned around with a jolt and there stood a short girl with spectacles and freckles on her nose. She looked as if she was around her late twenties but with her slick back ponytail and crisp uniform, she could have been anything above. Yvonne sweeped a furtive eye over her uniform and concluded she was a head maid similar to Stace. But who''s could it be?


    "I''m sure you already know me," Yvonne said kindly and patiently..


    The spectacled head maid raised a sharp eyebrow. "But I''d like to ask once more. Just in case."


    Yvonne sighed. "I am Lady Yvonne Sumner, here to pay Lady Neredras a visit."


    The maid''s stern demeanor remained unchanged. "Lady Neredras isn''t accepting any visitors."


    Yvonne frowned. "Could you tell her it''s me? I''m sure she''ll let me in."


    Another chiseled eyebrow shot up. "I''m afraid not. When she clearly said ''all visitors'', she meant ''all visitors''. I hope you understand. Now if you could just move out of my way, it''s Lady Neredras'' time for medicine."


    Discreetly, the maid rushed around Yvonne in a blink of her eye. Yvonne turned around to face her as she tried to slip inside, but was quickly stopped by Yvonne.


    "If you don''t tell her it''s me, then I''ll come in myself. Don''t think I won''t," Yvonne warned as she squeezed the head maid''s arm.


    The maid narrowed her eyes as she stared at Yvonne but eventually sighed.


    "Alright, wait here. I''ll ask her about a Lady Sumner."


    Yvonne smiled kindly. "Thank you. I mean it. What was your name again?"


    "I never said my name before."


    "No reason not to say it now."


    The maid frowned. "My name is Garnet Schafer, head maid to Lady Enya Neredras. You may address me as Garnet or ''head maid'', but Garnet would suffice. Now wait here, if you please."


    Garnet vanished inside and Yvonne stood just by it, swinging patiently on the heels of her foot, looking for a way to pass time.


    Several moments passed by and Garnet was still not in sight. Just as Yvonne was about to reach for the handle, the door clicked open again and Garnet''s face appeared in the crack.


    "You may come in," she whispered.


    Yvonne smiled awkwardly and followed Garnet inside. The Infirmary was darker than she remembered. There was a strong, pungent stench wafting around her face that she failed to recognize, but wondered if it was an antidote.


    Yvonne followed Garnet beyond the heavy red curtains and stopped in her tracks when she saw that the infirmary hall was barely lit.


    "Why are all the windows draped?" she said into the darkness.


    "Shh, please refrain from talking," came Garnet''s reply. She seemed a whole yard away when Yvonne could have sworn that she had been right by her side.


    "Wait, where do I go?" Yvonne whispered as she bumped into a few infirmary beds that were apparently unoccupied.


    She heard a clacking of feet and then a hand reached for her arm. Immediately, she was whisked away. Yvonne knew just by the cold, stony touch of it that this was Garnet''s palm.


    A few seconds of walking led them to what seemed like the end of the infirmary hall. Someone- another maid- opened a window near the front of the room. As partial light flooded over the infirmary beds, Yvonne recognized a weak body lying on one at the very end of the long row of beds.


    "Eny- Lady Neredras?" she whispered worriedly.


    Garnet went ahead and sat right next to Enya''s face and poured out a spoonful of something that seemed like medicine.


    "Get up, Your Highness," Garnet said kindly, her voice softening just for her lady.


    With immense difficulty, Enya supported herself on her arms and sat up against the headboard. She was then given the medicine at which she spluttered.


    "It''s alright, that was the last of the bitter ones," Garnet hushed her as she patted Enya on her head. "You''ll be just fine. Look who''s here to see you."


    Slowly, Enya raised her eyes and locked gazes with Yvonne, who stood there in shock at her state.


    "What happened?" Yvonne asked as she put her hands to her mouth. "Why do you look so weak?"


    Enya opened her mouth to answer but no sound came out. Then she burst in a fir of coughs.


    "Ahh, are you okay? Have some water!" Garnet fussed over her. "You see," she turned to Yvonne as Enya calmed down, "she''s very weak after what happened."


    Yvonne bit her lips. "I heard she was-"


    "Yes," Garnet answered firmly.


    Yvonne pursed her mouth, her worried eyes on Enya as she struggled to stay upright. Honestly, she looked like a skeleton draped over with skin. Her cheeks were sunked and she had huge eye bags under her bags.


    "Has she not been eating well?" Yvonne asked Garnet.


    She nodded. "After she was admitted, her food intake has been limited. I try to force her to swallow a few morsels, but then she vomits them right out. She''s gotten very weak just because of that."


    "Could you both please stop talking as if I''m not even here." Enya''s sudden croak of a voice startled Yvonne and Garnet alike. She looked offended. But then her face softened as she laid her head back against the cool headboard. "Good morning, Lady Sumner."


    "Please, just call me Yvonne."


    Enya smiled. "Alright. So I guess you heard?"


    Yvonne nodded. "What she did was a terrible thing."


    Enya''s face clouded with puzzlement. "Who?"


    "Lady Obsilia, of course."


    Enya looked beyond Yvonne into the distance, her eyes unfocused. "So that''s what they''re saying."


    Yvonne frowned. "Wait, is that not true?"


    Enya shrugged. "Considering the fact that it had been Elora''s maid that had delivered the basket of apples to me, I guess it is true. I just can''t fathom that she would hurt me like this, not when I had done nothing to trigger her temper."


    Yvonne went to sit on the bed opposite to Enya''s because her feet had started to hurt from standing. Enya let her. Yvonne asked, "Her maids had delivered the apples?"


    "Yes." Enya nodded weakly. "We suspect it was some poison. But since I''m not dead yet," she winced at her words, "it could have just been a bad apple."


    Yvonne made a face. "Is a rotten apple enough to drive you to this state?"


    Enya exchanged uncertain glances with Garnet.


    "I think so," she answered hesitantly. "My body is weak to bacteria, you see. So I get sick really easily."


    Yvonne nodded. "I see. Has this happened before?"


    Enya shook her head. "Not to this extent, no."


    Yvonne looked at the floor as her thoughts ran wild. Could there be a possibility that she had indeed become sick due to a rotten apple and not poison? Could Elora really be innocent in all this? No, but one could tell just by a glance at Enya that this was not the work of just a bad apple.


    "Do you hate her? Elora, I mean."


    Yvonne''s sudden question made Enya flinch. "Um..."


    Yvonne put her hands up in surrender. "It''s alright if you don''t want to answer."


    Enya shook her head. "It''s okay. Yes, I think I do hate her to some extent."


    "Why?"


    Enya shrugged. "She hits her maids. That''s enough reason for anyone to hate her. But I can''t understand why she would try to poison me. I can''t. I''ve never gotten in ehr way..."


    Yvonne thought for a moment.


    "I think I know," she said. Enya''s eyes raised to her face in hesitation. "Remember that day you exposed her at our tea table? Do you recall it?"


    Slowly, Enya nodded. "Exposed is a bitˇ­" Her voice trailed away. "Yes. I remember."


    "Well, I think she tried to remove you from her path, like one removes thorns from the way, in an attempt to eliminate any threats."


    Enya''s eyes came to rest on her lap. Yvonne could tell she was thinking, but her grave face said something more. Was she actually shocked at the sudden possibility?


    "But how did she come to know?" Enya asked softly as she looked at Yvonne once more. "How did she know?"


    Yvonne opened her mouth to answer but no words escaped her lips. How did she come to know? It had just been a conversation between the mistresses except Elora, so how did she know? That''s when it hit her: The maids.


    Yvonne put her face in her hands and groaned into them. That day, the maids ahd conflated against the background so professionally that the women had nearly forgotten they were even there. Stace said that the maids told each other everything. Had that been how the news had travelled? A mouth-to-mouth phenomenon? Yvonne groaned again as understanding dawned upon her.


    "What happened?" Enya asked, puzzled.


    Yvonne sighed as she removed her face from ehr hands. "I believe the maids told her. We hadn''t cared about them that day since we were so involved in our own conversation."


    Enya gasped. "Whatˇ­? So that''s why Elora tried to kill me?"


    Yvonne nodded gravely. "I think she sees you as a threat. And I''m pretty sure she''s stubborn: If she fails to get what she wants the first time, she''ll surely strike back."


    "So that means..."


    Yvonne cursed to herself.


    "It means that she''ll try to kill you again."


    Enya gasped. "No..."


    Yvonne nodded. This was going to be a wild ride.

 Chapter 100 - Coffee Talk

    "I''ll be taking my leave, Lady Neredras," Yvonne said as she stood up. While catching up with Enya, she had lost track of time, fearing that she may have skipped the third thing on her schedule: Spending time in the Ladies'' Room. "I''ll come back later, if you please."


    Enya smiled weakly, her brown eyes following Yvonne as she calmed the wrinkles on her dress. Much to her glee, Enya had had a wonderful time with Yvonne. This was the first time she was truly able to lay back in the palace and talk without any fear of judgement.


    "You''re a woman of great character, Lady Sumner," Enya said quietly and shyly.


    Yvonne''s eyes widened in surprise. She had never been appreciated this way before. In Clatoise, she had been called all sorts of names by fellow mistresses including but not limited to ''Cunning b*tch'', ''Sly whore'' and so much more. She never expected such kind words from a fellow competitor to the Empress''s seat, so she was more touched than anything.


    "Thank you, Lady Neredras." Yvonne smiled sweetly, the rouge on her face genuine. "I appreciate your warm words. Now, if you could excuse me..." Yvonne curtsied and click-clacked her way out of the infirmary, only stopping briefly near the open window to peer outside at the freshly watered roses. Then she silently made her way out.


    Enya looked on, feeling better than she had before her visit.


    "What a lovely woman," Garnet commented light-heartedly. "She''s a true gem in this hell hole of a palace."


    "I heed your words," Enya sighed. "But we mustn''t get attached, Garnet. Our only goal is survival till someone takes over, since I''m practically not even in the running."


    Garnet sighed sadly. "But I so do wish you would associate yourself with the others more often. It pains me to see you left out."


    "Oh hush, Garnet." Enya pulled the covers over her waist as a cold gust of wind wafted past. "There''s no need for that. Anyhow, I''ve been thinking about what Lady Sumner just said earlier, about how Lady Obsilia wants me dead. Is there any way we can use that information to our advantage?"


    A slow smile creeped up Garnet''s sharply featured face, and Enya leaned in to hear.


    ?


    Yvonne Sumner was much too exhausted to deal with the typical drama in the Ladies'' Room. She was undeniably late, but it was a good thing since she didn''t want to sit and talk anyways.


    "Hello, ladies," Yvonne said as she went inside. In a split of a second, her eyes scanned the room to know who was here and who was not. Elora, Yesenia and Enya, all three of them were absent. Odette sat reading a book on the tea table with her maid pouring her a cup of tea.


    Lorelei and Christabel sat in a corner near the tall window. They were engaged in a conversation, but when Yvonne got closer, she noticed that Lorelei was the only one doing all the talking.


    "Oh. Good day, Lady Sumner." Lorelei smiled as she turned her head in Yvonne''s direction.


    Yvonne nodded. "Good day." Then she pointed a finger at Christabel who had her back to her, and Lorelei shook her head. Christabel still hadn''t spoken.


    Yvonne bit her lip as she thought about it. Was there any way to make her start speaking again? But why should she do that? It was none of her business. Yvonne decided against interfering with the two ladies and turned around to find another activity.


    Would it be better to have tea with Lady Odette Atraxil? Apparently, she had the most brains in the entire palace, probably even in the entire of Eyress. Yvonne decided to put that to the test.


    "Good day, Lady Atraxil," Yvonne said as she approached the tea table.


    Odette looked up from her book, seemingly annoyed at the new distraction.


    "Good day," she said coldly, then went back to reading. But that didn''t stop Yvonne from pulling out a seat and sitting down opposite Odette.


    Odette''s maid looked questionably at Yvonne, teapot raised in hand.


    "Ah, yes. I''ll have whatever she''s having," Yvonne said, and promptly, she was poured a hot cup of tea with a minty fragrance. "Is this mint?"


    Sighing, Odette put away her book and interlaced her fingers on the table.


    "Rosemary," she said crisply, looking Yvonne straight in the eye. "It''s good for digestion and widely available. The minty fragrance is good to calm the mind, a sort of aromatherapy which can help in improving the mood and memory. The ursolic acid it contains is good for hair growth, whereas the anti-inflammatory compounds help to prevent inflammation. These are just some of the reasons one may enjoy rosemary tea. Plus, it tastes wonderful."


    Yvonne blinked, the tea in her hand losing heat by the second.


    "Wow," she said, surprised. "I''m amazed. You really are a city of knowledge, just like I''ve heard."


    Odette traced an engraved pattern on the cover of the book she had been reading.


    "I''d rather not be called that. ''The City of Knowledge''. It sounds much tackier than some of the other names I''ve been given. I''m just good at providing apt information when it comes to the circumstances. One could say I have a good memory."


    "Is that so?" Yvonne took a small sip of her tea, her mouth instantly being enveloped by all the marrying flavors. "This really is a wonderful blend."


    Yvonne saw Odette smile for the first time.


    "Thank you," she said, cupping her own cup with her hands. "It''s tailored to my own recipe. Would you like to taste another blend I created?"


    Yvonne raised her eyebrows, surprised at the initiated offer. "I''m not really much of a tea person. In Clatoise, we usually enjoyed a hot cup of coffee. Have you ever tried that?"


    Odette shook her head, intrigued. "I''ve heard of it, but I never got my hands on it. I heard it''s a delicacy, made only in the most prestigious of private farms. Is there any way I could get a taste of it?"


    Yvonne nodded. "Of course! Amongst the luggage I brought from Clatoise, I also recall throwing in a jar of processed coffee grains ready to stir into either water or milk. I prefer my coffee milky, against the preference of many others."


    Odette frowned. "I always thought coffee was to be made with milk."


    Yvonne smiled as she sipped on her tea. "So did I. But apparently, some people like to drink it black. When I get back to my chambers, I''ll be sure to send you the coffee jar as a present."


    Odette blushed. The warm personality of Lady Sumner, who she had thought would be cold and haughty, comforted her. She took off her monocle, which she had put on before she started reading the book. With her bare face exposed, Yvonne could really tell why the Emperor had taken her in in the first place. She wasn''t what one would call beautiful at a first glance. Her skin was fair and her hair was dark, creating a stark contrast to the eye. But what really grabbed one''s attention to her were her intelligent pair of eyes, so deep and mysterious.


    Yvonne gazed in awe at Odette, who looked back, puzzled.


    "Have I got something on my face?"


    "No," Yvonne laughed musically. "I was just dazed by your beauty for a moment there. You really are very pretty."


    The rouge on Odette''s face increased swiftly. "T-Thank you."


    Yvonne''s laugh trailed away as she wondered if it was time to ask what she had wanted to, in the first place.


    "Lady Atraxil," Yvonne said, circling the rim of her cup. "Has the Emperor ever slept with you?"


    The question was much too sudden. Nobody was ready for that. Odette was taken aback, the color draining away from her cheeks. "I''m sorry?"


    Yvonne interlaced her fingers on the table, looking gravely at Odette. Tranced by her icy gaze, Odette was rooted to her spot.


    "You''ve been here for a long time. Has the Emperor ever slept with you since your arrival at this palace?"


    Odette''s mouth opened in shock. Was she even hearing correctly?


    "I-I''d rather not speak about this," Odette said, clearing her throat uncomfortably.


    Yvonne leaned back in her chair and crossed one leg over the other. She was in no hurry to leave, and Odette knew this. The maids against the wall exchanged worried, uncertain glances.


    "You don''t need to be ashamed of admitting to this," Yvonne shrugged. "We''re all women belonging to the same man. Now tell me, have you?"


    Odette shuffled uncomfortably in her chair. "Um..."


    Yvonne blinked. She then sighed. "I see. I heard the Emperor boasting to somebody once about how great you were in bed. I was worried, since it was clearly a confidential topic. How do you feel about him expressing his thoughts about you so clearly?"


    Yvonne''s eyes remained fixed on Odette''s. The slight tremble in Odette''s body did not go unnoticed by anyone in the room.


    "Are you telling the truth?" Odette hissed, outraged.


    Yvonne nodded confidently. "He shouldn''t have done that."


    To everyone''s surprise, angry tears started flowing down Odette''s face. Yvonne jerked forward, not knowing how she had triggered such a reaction.


    "A-Are you alright?" Yvonne said as she handed her a handkerchief, which Odette didn''t reach to take.


    "How dare he?" Odette muttered, her voice barely a whisper. "How dare he boast when he''s never once even approached my lonely chambers. Sometimes, I think I''m not good enough to be his woman. May-Maybe that''s why he refuses to even pay me any attention while caresses all the other mistresses. All he cares about concerning me is joining hands with my father."


    Yvonne raised a sharp eyebrow. How interesting. So it meant that he indeed had never slept with Odette. So why would he lie about it? Yvonne leaned closer, intrigued despite her tears.. Oh, how she was dying to know more.

 Chapter 101 - Blinded By Sympathy

    [Back at what was once Ogden Cove]


    Hector did not take the news of Sidmund''s demise well.


    "What do you mean he''s dead?" Hector bellowed in a blind rage. "He can''t be dead! Sid''s much stronger than that!"


    "Calm down, boy," Mama hissed as she pointed a finger at him. "You want to bring all the neighbors to my door? I''d rather you not, considering all the bodies in my house at the moment." Then she turned to me. "Ashli, is Klyn up?"


    I shrugged. "I''ll go check."


    Hastily, I retreated from Room#2 and creaked open the door to the first room before peeking in. At once, I came face to face with Klyn, his black eyes peering down at me. Furtively, I scanned his body and realized that his wounds had indeed vanished as we expected.


    But how was he taking the news?


    "Um, hi," I said awkwardly. Gosh. "All healed up? M-Mama''s asking for you in the other room."


    He made no movements, except for narrowing his eyes at me in a strange, eerie way. I looked away, instantly intimidated. Then he opened his door wide and thudded past me while I stood there, rooted to my spot. I peered to my right just long enough to catch him stepping through the doorway of Room#2.


    "Gosh, is it just me or does he seem a little psychotic?" I mumbled under my breath before gathering up my nerves again and following his lead.


    With his face held in his palms, Hector sat upon the bloodied bedsheet, where he had first lay wriggling in unbearable pain. I looked from him to Mama who was relaying something to Klyn in hushed tones as she stood with him near a corner.


    "...passed away..." I heard her say.


    Carefully, I sat beside Hector where the bedsheet was clean and stared at the floor in thought. Should I talk to him? Would it make it any better for him if I do? I mean, several close friends of his just died. And not one, but three! I can''t even begin to imagine the immense grief he was going through.


    "Are you alright?" I asked softly.


    At my words, I felt him flinch beside him, but he didn''t say anything.


    I took a deep breath. "I''m really, really, really, really sorry for your loss. He was a good guy." Believe it or not, I was being genuine. Apart from the fact that he had literally been an assassin, he really had been a good guy. He gave me the middle-aged uncle vibes, and even though he had been an assassin, I think it was for a good cause in his point of view after all.


    Maquess Huxley killed his brother, for God''s sake! And for what? Just the title of duke? Could one be any more petty? A brother! I can''t ever imagine doing something like that to Juwon. Never in a million years.


    I shouldn''t have thought about Juwon.


    Now I felt homesick.


    With a huge sigh, I stared sadly at the uneven edges of the floorboards, suddenly feeling as if another part of my heart had been chipped away. Hector shuffled beside me, and I noticed that he had lowered his hands from his face.


    "Sid was one of the best men I ever knew." He blinked at his palms, likely searching for his vanished wounds. "He was a leader, y''know?"


    I smiled. "I could tell."


    He nodded. "Yeah. I remember when we had just started out as trainees. He always spent the most time in the training room. Usually, Sid was the last to leave and the first one to enter in the morning. We were all in awe of him, since we had never seen a man so efficient. Naturally, he was chosen as commander of one of the many squadrons formed after one of our monthly evaluation tests. I remember being ecstatic when he took me on his team."


    I hadn''t known he was someone so many people looked up to. I glanced at Hector, who seemed to be dissolved in his past memories.


    "Then the accident happened," he said, his voice cracking in the middle. "We were sparring, as usual, and I don''t know what happened that day but somehow I missed and my sword cut him right over his eye. It had been a wooden sword, but judging by his blood dripping wound, I might have swung too hard."


    I shuddered, remembering the scar that ran down the length of his cheek and travelled up to his forehead. I thought it looked really cool, almost heroic. But if he had had it in the modern times, I''m sure he wouldn''t have shown it off with pride.


    "What happened then?" I whispered.


    Hector grunted and rubbed his face with his healed palms. "''M not sure if you could tell, but he went blind in that one eye. Even then, he had dealt with it like a strong man. He never flinched or raved on and on at me about it. One look at the blood and he slowly made his way to the nurse''s room."


    Slowly, I nodded. Honestly? I was in awe. Even the seemingly worst of men could be dealing with their own issues. Then I remembered something.


    "Wait, he was blind in one eye?" I exclaimed in surprise. "But his eyes seemed perfectly normal."


    Hector chuckled bitterly. "Do you know about glass eyes?"


    I nodded uncertainly. "I''ve heard of them."


    He interlaced his fingers as he stared at the floor. "Yes, he had one of those. After all, the enemy shouldn''t find out about what we lack, or else it gives them the upper hand on us. Remember that."


    I frowned. Was I being mentored by an assassin?


    "Anyways," he grunted, "it didn''t matter. Eye or no eye, he was still the best commander we ever had. Too bad..." He gulped. "Too bad he''s dead now. Sh*t!"


    He slapped the wooden frame of the bed, startling me.


    "Sorry," he murmured as he avoided my gaze. "I just- It''s hard, y''know?"


    I nodded. No words were spoken between us after that, but I knew he felt much better after talking about it. Somewhere in between our conversation, I had noticed Mama watching us from the corner of my eyes. Our conversation finally ended, she came up to us.


    "Y''all done?" she asked bluntly, her hands going to her hips.


    I sighed, turning to her. "Yep. Are you done with your conversation with him?" I pointed my chin at Klyn who still stood near the corner, his back to us.


    Mama nodded. "He doesn''t seem to be taking it too well."


    "You know even when he has yet to say something about it?"


    Mama shrugged. "Yes. Just look at the state of him. Looks like someone told him his wife died at sea."


    We all turned to look, and indeed, he did seem grieved. With his shoulders slumped and his head bent low, one could easily tell that he was not gleeful. My hands trailed down to his fists, which clenched and unclenched.


    "Are we really going to turn them out now?" I whispered to Mama, worried about both of theirs'' states of mind.


    Mama tapped her foot on the floor, staring at Klyn''s back. "They might kill themselves."


    "Mama!"


    She frowned. "Shh. I don''t want my place to reek like a slaughterhouse, but I guess throwing them on the pavement would be a bit harsh. Let''s let them stay for one night. Oi, Hector!" Mama turned to him as he flinched. "One night''s worth of a stay is all I can offer right now. Take it or get out with those friends of yours."


    Hector winced at the word ''friends''.


    "Then, we hope to not trouble you for the rest of the night," he murmured.


    Mama scoffed. "You can''t, not anymore than you have already. I''ll send over some new bedsheets. Both of you will stay in the rooms you chose. Lassie," Mama turned to me, and I stood to command, "you''ll stay in the room next to your previous one, considering the fact that there''s a dead man lying on your floor."


    I nodded, furtively cringing at her blunt way of talking. I sure do hope this night goes wellˇ­


    ?


    [Meanwhile, at the Palace]


    Night time approached rapidly, and before Yvonne knew it, it was time to attend the reception.


    "Ruby or blue?" Stace asked as she raised two dresses hung on wooden hangers up in her hands. Yvonne studied both the dresses, carefully considering each of them.


    "Wouldn''t red look bad with my hair?" Yvonne asked as her eyes swept over the breath-taking dress. It was sleeveless, with a shiny skirt overlaid with black tulle. The heart-shaped neckline was decorated with a rose lace pattern that went down the front in a thin streak. Black sequins were attached all over.


    Yvonne adored that dress, and had been keeping it safe for a notable event. But deep down, she had always known that her flaming hair would ruin the look of it.


    The other choice- a silk blue dress with a mermaid style bottom- was far too inappropriate, considering that this was a formal event. Yvonne sighed as she sat on her bed, her eyes darting between her two options.


    "Ruby it is," Stace said decisively and stuffed the blue dress in her wardrobe. "You know you''re dying to wear it, hon."


    Yvonne frowned. Was she being too obvious about her feelings?


    "But won''t it clash with my hair color?" Yvonne asked worriedly.


    Stace tutted. "Again with that nonsense? You''re going to look a gem, don''t worry! I won''t let you leave this room until I make sure of it.." Stace lay the dress neatly on the bed beside Yvonne and then put her fists on her hips. "Now strip!"

 Chapter 102 - The Reception [I]

    She was nervous.


    Yvonne twisted the rings on her fingers as she waited for her entrance into the Reception Room. Stace- her dearest maid- who was both blunt and informal in her manner of speaking, stood right besind her, adjusting the removable tulle sleeves on her shoulders.


    "It was daft of us to add on sleeves when the dress was gorgeous as is," Stace muttered irritably as she struggled to straighten out a pointed wrinkle. "And why? Because you felt cold?"


    Yvonne sighed. "If you were a human, you''d feel how chilly the weather has gotten lately."


    Stace smirked. "Too bad I''m not human. I''ve never felt cold in my life!"


    Yvonne chuckled. She knew Stace was just trying to calm her down before she was called in.Was it so obvious that she was practically trembling with nerves? Or was it just because of the cold.


    Yes. Of course it''s the cold, Yvonne thought. I''m not so weak. I''ve done more nerve-racking stuff that is incomparable to this lousy reception. L-Like the time I had to plan out the exchange between Zoie and the princess. Daft, it was, really.


    The thought of poor Zoie just added to Yvonne''s nerves.


    Even though she has been a small, timid thing, she had carried out her assigned mission with commendable vigor. Yvonne remembered watching from behind a door as she had walked in front of the escort of a guard through the stretched corridor. She didn''t remember much clearly since there was a huge distance between them, but she remembered the guard reaching forward to touch Zoie''s wig, most likely in an an attempt to check if it was genuine, but in that split second, Zoie had somehow managed a shocking roundhouse kick that left the guard floored. Literally. She might have kicked him in the groin because the guard went unconscious from the immense discomfort.


    The next morning, Yvonne had checked in at him. It was then she had realized that the man remembered nothing about the exchange last night. He was instantly told to pack up and go.


    Poor guy.


    But not poorer than Zoie, who had disappeared without a trace. Without a single one.


    Yvonne sighed and put a steady hand on her heart to calm it down.


    "Stace," she said, her voice almost a whisper. "Why''s it taking so long?"


    Stace moved forward to fix her hair, which was just a piece of jeweled artwork. There was no doubt Yvonne would be the star of the reception today.


    "Just wait a bit," Stace chastised. "From the looks of it, you''re not too eager to go in anyways. So what''s the hurry?"


    Yvonne wrung her hands. "I just want to get this done with."


    Stace sighed. She knew Yvonne was nervous, considering the fact that this would be the first time she''ll be actually attending a notable event after her arrival at the palace. There would be talking, of course, and Yvonne knew that she''ll have to leave a good impression on the people from the Lands of Sovia, or else she''ll make herself out to be a social outcast. It was a big deal, and Stace understood.


    "Just calm down," Stace advised as she tapped Yvonne''s shoulder. "Calm those muscles and mind your composure. And smile! Don''t forget to smile. You''ll be okay." Stace grinned and winked at her, and Yvonne was thankful for that alone.


    "Thanks," she whispered as she got ready to go in. The guards stationed by the door to the Reception Room were reaching towards the two large handles. "I think I''ll manage just fine."


    As the doors swung open on oiled hinges, Yvonne was blinded by the bright refractions of light. Then she heard a snippet of the Emperor''s voice saying:


    "...And here comes my last jewel, Lady Sumner of Clatoise..."


    Once adjusted to the light, Yvonne stepped in with an even brighter smile stretched on her red lips. She knew she had to make a good first impression, or else she''ll remain as just a decoration by the Emperor''s side.


    Before she could even see who the guests were, Yvonne fell into a graceful curtsy. She could almost hear the stunned silence in the room. Quickly, she rose up to see whom she had to impress today.


    The Reception Room was huge. In the middle was a fairly large squared table with a glass top, around which were long, white velvet sofas. On the sofa right opposite the door sat Emperor Haleth, who (Yvonne thought) looked as full as ever. Full of ego, that is. Since he alone took most of the sofa, nobody bothered sitting beside him.


    One of the long sofas to his side was occupied by the royal mistresses, with the one being closest to the Emperor being Yesenia, who was the wisest. The other sofa was occupied by some faces Yvonne did not recognize. One of them, and the one who seemed to be the head of authority amongst them, was a tall, blonde man with a younger version of him seated by his side. Presumably, they were father and son. Judging by the crest on the tall man''s chest, he was either a duke or a marquess. His son wore a similar badge.


    Other than these two, there was a blonde woman with deep dimples who sat beside the younger man. They had the same, golden eyes, which could mean he was his mother. Lastly, there were a couple of guards stationed behind them, dressed in blue armor.


    Yvonne went and seated herself on the sofa opposite the Emperor, since it was the only one unoccupied. What Yvonne had not known was that there was indeed someone seated beside her. He was a dark haired man with a grave, yet handsome, face. Yvonne avoided his curious gaze as she faced the Emperor, who smiled brightly upon her.


    "How are you, my dear?" he asked in his bass-filled voice.


    Yvonne smiled her fatal smile as she sat, proper and poised. "Wonderful, Your Majesty. Since I''m the last one here, I hope it won''t be any trouble to introduce me to these pleasant people."


    The Emperor nodded, as he brushed his small beard.


    "This is Duke Lucan Van Huxley of the duchy in Notdale," he said, pointing towards the tall, blonde man who smirked at his mention.


    Yvonne decided to dislike him at once, because he seemed like a scheming fool with a huge ego.


    "Next to him," the Emperor continued without pause as he pointed to the younger version of the duke, "is Marquess Parr Huxley, also of Notdale. They bear an uncanny resemblance, so you must already know that they are related."


    Yvonne studied the Marquess through her perceptive gaze, who just smiled and looked away. Yvonne had mixed feelings about him. She thought he would be as prideful as his father, but he seemed rather timid and mousy at the same time, as if his father had strictly ordered him to not steal his spotlight.


    Yvonne moved onto the next person in line.


    "And this," the Emperor pointed a lazy hand towards the woman, "is the lovely duchess of Notdale, Duchess Eliza Huxley."


    Kindly, Yvonne nodded at her, and raised an eyebrow when the duchess didn''t reciprocate her smile. Yvonne decided to dislike the whole couple.


    "Last but not the very least," the Emperor pointes to the dark haired man beside Yvonne, who sat with his arms sprawled on the sofa''s backrest, "this smart man is Aspen Yelwynn, advisor to the duke." Yvonne didn''t turn to look at him, but she knew nonetheless that his eyes were on her.


    "It''s an honor to be in your presence," Yvonne smiled sweetly at the duke, who visibly tried to fight a blush. Yvonne knew the effect she had on others, and she was smart enough to use it to its best.


    The Emperor carried on with his conversation, oblivious to anything that was not about himself. Yvonne looked at all the other mistresses who sat quietly on the sofa, their lips pursed tight. Enya wasn''t there.


    The Emperor busied himself in a conversation with the duke''s family, and Yvonne was forgotten. Or at least she thought.


    "What was your name again?" the dark haired man muttered as he turned to her. His voice was smooth and catchy, and Yvonne didn''t like it. He had a similar manner of speaking like all the previous boyfriends she had had before she was taken in by King Irvin, and they all had turned out to be douchebags. But there was an accent on his lips, something incredibly similar to what she was familiar with. Or was she just imagining it?


    "You may address me as Lady Sumner," Yvonne said, turning to the man. There were no signs of a smile on her face, but when she saw Aspen Yelwynn''s face up close, her lips twitched at the corners. Quickly she shook it off.


    Aspen nodded, in thought. "Might I say you look stunning tonight," he said crisply. "Much lovelier than the lot over there." He pointed his chin towards the other mistresses. Yvonne frowned.


    "Thank you," Yvonne replied stonily. "But I didn''t ask." With that, she turned away from Aspen, who fought a chuckle behind her.


    "What an interesting creature," he murmured under his breath. Then he spoke up again. "Lady Sumner, you''re from Clatoise, I hear?"


    Yvonne sighed.


    "Yes," she said, turning back to the annoying man.


    The man nodded thoughtfully as he stared at the ceiling.


    "Wonderful kingdom?"


    "Very," Yvonne replied sarcastically. What was the deal with this guy?


    "I''m from Clatoise, too," he said as he looked at her, smiling. "Though it''s been ages since I visited my hometown. I don''t even know what became of it."


    Yvonne frowned. "Where do you live?"


    "In a small town called Huwen. You wouldn''t know of it."


    But Yvonne did know of it.. And she didn''t like the sound of that.

 Chapter 103 - Words Like Daggers

    The most notorious region of Clatoise, rural and crawling with criminals on the lookout, is none other than a small town called Huwen.


    Or ''was'', to be exact.


    Huwen wasn''t always that way, of course. It used to be a sunny town where kids played all day and the smell of fresh bread brought customers to the market. Yvonne remembered walking through its streets once when she was younger. She had a lovely time then.


    But then the ''incident'' happened.


    The town burned in the night whilst families ran away from the shelter of their roofs while others got buried under the falling debris. It was a scene so like hell. After everything was over and the flames were vanquished, all that was left were the skeletons of houses and a load of ash.


    To the people who lost their families and homes, this was an act of pure hatred and uttermost bitterness, caused by none other than a group of criminals as a sick joke. But the event was publicized as ''Just another accident'' on the notice boards across the kingdom, which resulted in a huge uproar by the grieved families.


    To this very day, many people lived on the streets because of that unfortunate wreck. Yvonne clenched her fists in her lap as she thought about it, not knowing how to answer Aspen.


    "Are you sure you lived in Huwen?" Yvonne asked as she avoided his gaze.


    He frowned. "Of course. Why? Is something wrong?"


    Yvonne bit the inside of her lip as she thought.


    "Just a kind word of advice," she muttered as she turned to him, her voice low. "Please check up on your family."


    "I met them a few years back; they''re fine," he said, confused.


    Yvonne shook her head. "Still, check up on them. Please. You never know what might have happened."


    Puzzled, Aspen turned away from her and stared at the table, clearly deep in his thoughts already. Yvonne turned her attention back to the Emperor''s conversation, not before she had unnoticed that everyone had gone silent and all eyes were on her and Aspen.


    "Is something the matter, dear?" the Emperor asked, frowning. He gave aspen an irritated look, which was both brief and furtive. Yvonne pretended she hadn''t noticed.


    "I''m perfectly well," she replied as she again gave one of her fatally gorgeous smiles. "Mister Yelwynn here was just telling me about his hometown, since he''s from Clatoise like myself."


    The Emperor arched an eyebrow. "Is that so. Now come, Duke Huxley. Tell me where you hired this advisor of yours."


    Yvonne could tell that the Duke was questioning the Emperor''s tone. But with a clearing of his throat, he spoke, "Aspen''s services were recommended to me by a friend of mine, so I decided to test him out. Surprisingly, he was much better at his job than I expected, especially considering the strange get-up he''s accustomed himself to."


    Yvonne didn''t miss how subtly the Duke had defamed his advisor, but Aspen didn''t seem to care; he was much too absorbed in his own thoughts. Yvonne leaned back and sighed. The reception was much more boring than she had expected. She didn''t prefer partaking in the discussions of two old men, which seemed similar to the case of all the other mistresses, who either stared into space or played with the accessories on their wrists.


    Yvonne looked at Duchess Eliza, who had yet to speak a word. She seemed particularly disinterested in the men''s conversation and chose to focus on something else...or someone else, to be exact.


    She was staring at Aspen, with a dreamy, lost look in her eyes. Yvonne looked back and forth from the man beside her to the wife of the duke. Then her eyebrows arched in realization.


    Did the duchess have a little crush on her husband''s handsome advisor?


    Stifling a laugh, she turned back and stared straight at the duke, who was much too absorbed in a conversation with the Emperor to focus on his wife. His son, on the other hand, was glaring at his mother.


    "Mind where you let your eyes wander, mother," Yvonne heard him hiss at her, even though his voice was barely as that of a whisper. His mother- the duchess- turned to him in a swift move, her eyes wide.


    "Hush, boy," the Duchess whispered back angrily. "I wasn''t in the wrong."


    "Is anything the matter, my love?" the duke asked suddenly, facing his voice. It seemed as if their little exchange of whispers had reached the duke''s ears, and he seemed interested to get some insight.


    "All''s well, dearest husband," Duchess Eliza replied, smiling a dimpled smile at the Duke, who stared back with a questionable expression. Yvonne noticed that the Marquess''s face was contorted in what seemed to her like pain, and when her eyes trailed down, she noticed that the Duchess held his son''s back in a tight pinch. It seemed immensely painful, especially considering the Duchess''s long, pointy fingernails.


    "Duchess," Yvonne spoke up suddenly, startling the Duchess so that she released her son from her hold. "Might I commend your dressmakers. They''ve done a wonderful job at seeking out your elegance."


    At once, the Duchess stuck her bust up in the air, her face a picture of amour propre. Yvonne knew she was getting ready to get haughty, and she prepared herself in advance.


    "This dress is a unique piece specially tailored to bring out all of my top points, which naturally makes me the cynosure of all eyes in any assemblage. Though unfortunately, I''ll have to throw it away after today. I never wear a dress twice, after all." She laughed and her husband joined in. The Marquess looked embarrassed.


    "How unfortunate," Yvonne replied monotonously, unaffected by this woman''s boasting. "But lest we forget here, there are people dying all over the world due to insufficient clothing. I''d advise you to give the dress away to someone in need of it rather than throwing it away and letting it rot after a single use."


    The Duchess scoffed, her cheeks glowing red. "As someone of utter high prestige, I won''t stand the duchy becoming a place where the beggars can crawl to for help. That''s absolutely outrageous! I''ve never heard of this ridiculous idea!"


    Yvonne raised a scrutinizing eyebrow. "So you''d much rather waste your wealth rather than make it of use to someone else?"


    Marquess Huxley covered his face with his hand while Duchess Eliza didn''t hesitate to nod decisively. "Of course. Only the rich must enjoy the privilege that is wealth. Isn''t that right, dear?" she said, turning to the Duke.


    He nodded. "Erm, right."


    Duchess Eliza turned back to Yvonne and stuck her chin forward. Yvonne sighed. She was going to go in for the final blow.


    "Consider something, though," she said, leaning forward, a sly smile playing on her lips. "Won''t doing good to the community be in your favor, especially considering the grave circumstances you are in?"


    The Duchess was taken aback. "Whatever do you mean?"


    Yvonne leaned back, trying to hide her smirk. She was doing it. She was making a mark here. Well, not a necessarily positive one, though, which had been what she had aimed for. But after realizing the guests before her, she had to improvise.


    "You know very well, Duchess. You have good knowledge about what I speak of. I''m trying not to give a lot away here, as these people still may not be aware of the truth you all are trying so hard to hide." Yvonne gestured towards the Emperor and the mistresses, who looked on, a cloud of puzzlement hanging over their heads.


    The Duke roared, "How dare you!"


    "Calm down, Father," Marquess Huxley stood to settle his father back in his seat as he took to his feet.


    "How dare you blame the duke''s family of such crimes!" the Duchess gasped, putting a steady hand on her huge bosom.


    "But I''ve yet to say anything of offence, dear people," Yvonne spoke innocently, tilting her head. "I''ve barely even spoken yet. And what are these crimes you speak of when I never even mentioned the word?" Yvonne gave a ridiculing, mock gasp. "Are you actually concealing something?"


    Duchess Eliza gritted her teeth as the Duke barely kept still in his seat. Yvonne could feel the storm she had brewed up, but she knew that the duke''s family was at her mercy now. One little slip and she''d spill all about the dark rumors in the Lands of Sovia, something not of common knowledge here in Wisteria.


    The duke''s advisor, Aspen Yelwynn, stared at the cunning mistress in heightened amusement. Gosh, how he was enjoying this battle of words, speech thrown at each other like daggers.


    "Dear, what are you talking about?" the Emperor asked, still muddled.


    Yvonne looked to her right at the Duke who looked as if the blood had drained from his face. The Duchess shook her head at her, at which Yvonne almost smirked. God, this was so much fun.


    "Nothing, Your Majesty," Yvonne said sweetly. "I''ll tell you some other time."


    The Duke and his wife released the breaths they had been holding in, while their son hung his head low, unable to meet anyone''s eyes.


    Eventually, the conversation again wound its way back to the Emperor and he busied himself with talking about him and his empire with the Duke of Notdale. The Duchess didn''t speak another word, much like her son.


    The advisor to the duke, Aspen, though, did not stay put.


    "Wonderful way to twirl them about your finger, my lady," he said, amused. "Fortunately for you, you are right about them hiding something. It''s all messed up, really. The previous Marquess was really close to my heart."


    Yvonne raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"


    "Yes," he replied sadly. "He died in suspicious circumstances, naturally leading the people to believe that he was murdered by the only man who had to gain something from his death, the younger brother. Messed up, I say."


    Yvonne chuckled. "May I ask more of these suspicious circumstances you speak of, good sir?"


    The man raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. "Not now.. Later."

 Chapter 104 - Love Them, Regardless

    [The Gradral Household]


    "Rosa, can you heat up some water? I want to take a shower."


    Rosa looked at her brother as he emerged from his room, his upper body naked. With a keen eye of a sister, she scanned his muscular, chiseled torso which glistened with sweat under the lantern''s light, and frowned.


    "You''ve lost weight," she chastised as she leaned back in her chair and closed the book she had been reading. The few days after their parents'' death, Reynard and Rosa had spent together the time they could cut out. Rosa had taken a break from work and had informed her business partner, Sephni, to take over the stall for a couple weeks before her return.


    Reynard, too, had taken to staying at home and just doing sibling stuff with his sister, which had proved to be much more enjoyable than he had thought. But then again, he was also continuously chastised for this and that every step into the day. But he was sure it was normal, elder sister behavior. After all, Rosa wanted to give him a life where he wouldn''t feel the absence of his mother.


    "Have I really lost weight?" Reynard questioned as he looked down at his abs, which did seem a bit deflated than they had a couple days ago.


    Rosa tapped the cover of the book with her fingernails, imitating a piano.


    "You can tell, can''t you? Anyways, I was thinking about taking up another hobby, aside from pottery, I mean." To distract myself from all the grief-filled thoughts, she added in her head.


    Reynard nodded as he leaned against a wall, his biceps squishing against it. He folded his arms and peered at his sister.


    "Hmm, I was thinking the same. Have you something in mind?"


    Rosa played the finger piano on her book, apparently in deep thought.


    "Have you heard about painting? I''ve never tried painting before, except the basic stuff I do on my pots. But I want to attempt the things she does...whatwashername? Hetta?"


    "Hestia," Reynard corrected, sighing. "I know. She does art for a living. You can try pairing up with her to get started if you''re serious about this hobby thing. I''ve seen some of her art displayed in public. She has a way with colors."


    Rosa nodded, determined. "Okay. That''s what I''ll do. You said you wanted a shower?"


    "A warm one."


    Rosa stood to her feet and stretched. As she walked towards the kitchen, she noticed the back of Reynard''s head as he retired to his room. The color of his hairˇ­ It had become rather dull. The usual black glisten it always possessed seemed to be lacking for some reason.


    "Hold!" she bellowed and Reynard stood rooted to his spot,


    "What?" he asked, turning around.


    Rosa put her face up close to Reynard''s hair and examined them with narrow, speculative eyes.


    "How long since you last washed your hair?"


    Reynard thought about it, scratching his stomach. "Mm...half a month ago?"


    Rosa frowned. "Ew. Your hair looks grey. Are you getting old?"


    Reynard picked at a strand of his hair which popped out in his hand.


    "It looks more purple than grey. Are you sure we''re seeing the same color?"


    Narrowing her eyes, Rosa rubbed a piece of his hair between her fingers and then examined the tips. It was as if someone had put a gun behind Rosa''s back. Suddenly, she stood back as she stared at her fingers, a shocked expression on her face. Then she gave out a soft gasp.


    "What?" Reynard asked, worried. "What happened?"


    Rosa took a step back, her eyes scanning her brother''s head.


    "I! I-umˇ­" she sputtered. "I think I should o-oil your hair."


    Reynard frowned, not understanding. "Now? But I''m going to take a shower."


    As he turned around to leave, Rosa grasped a hold of his wrist and tugged.


    "No! Don''t shower yet!"


    This time, Reynard''s frown was suspicious. "What are you talking about?"


    Rosa squeezed his arm, her face desperate. "Look, Reynard, I know I may sound crazy, but I don''t think showering would be a good idea right now. How about I-"


    "Why are you acting so strange suddenly..." Reynard muttered as he backed away to his room. Rosa followed him. "What in the world..."


    Suddenly, his back thumped against his shower room door. Hurriedly, he pulled the knob and locked himself inside. At once, Rosa started knocking at the door. "Reynard, don''t wash your hair, do you hear me? I-I-It''s damaged right now! If you wash it again, it''ll get worse! Do you hear me? Let me oil your hair just once!"


    But Reynard wasn''t listening.


    He turned on a lantern he always had hung against his shower room wall and then blew out the match. Suspiciously, Reynard turned around and faced himself in the mirror. The first thing he noticed was that indeed, he did look a bit thinner. Had he not been eating well? Then his eyes travelled up to his hair.


    Under the light, he could clearly tell that his hair wasn''t black like the way they previously were. Anyone could tell the color was dull, but it was there. The purple color.


    In haste, Reynard raked a hand through his hair and stared at his palms, his eyes widening at the small black marks appearing on his skin.


    "What the hell," he murmured as he vigorously rubbed his scalp and pulled back to check his hand, which was more black now. "What''s happening?"


    In his desperation, Reynard turned on the shower which their father had built for them a long time ago. Though it required a barrel of water connected by a pipe to the shower head to be filled before it was turned on, it was still a luxury to them.


    As he turned the shower''s handle, a cold waterfall enveloped him. Reynard didn''t retreat away from the electric cold even though the weather was very chilly that day. He wanted to know why his hair was losing its color, and why his sister had warned him about showering.


    A sudden series of knocks erupted at the door. "I hear water!" Rosa yelled. "You better not be showering! Do you want to get sick?"


    Reynard didn''t answer and quickly applied an old, isolated bar of lye soap to his scalp before rubbing it in. He didn''t wait for it to foam; he washed it off right away.


    "Bloody hell..." he murmured as he stared at the tiles on the floor, which were covered in colored water after it had run off his hair. "Why is it black?"


    As soon as his hair was clean and sticking to his neck, Reynard wiped it with a flannel which also got stained in the process. Reynard never imagined his hair''s color was anything but natural. He had always thought his jet black head of hair had been inherited from his father.


    But when he stared at himself in the mirror again, his reflection had changed. Instead of his usual black, his hair looked purple. A beautiful, dusk purplish-indigo had been revealed from under the black, though there were still strands of his previous color hidden in there.


    Slowly, Reynard''s eyes widened at his reflection. No, no, no.


    He''d never had purple hair in his life, this was impossible! It had always been black. So what was this? Furious and confused, Reynard yanked open the door and stopped when he saw Rosa sitting calmly on his bed.


    At once, her eyes went to his head and she gasped when she saw it, too.


    "My goodness," she whispered as she stood up, her eyes never leaving his hair. "My goodness..."


    "What is this?" he hissed, pointing to his new hair color. "" Are you telling me that my hair never was black?


    "Shh. I haven''t told you anything yet," Rosa whispered soothingly as she tried to guide her brother to sit on the bed.


    "No!" Reynard flicked her hand away. "Tell me why I''m like this." He pulled his hair, his voice getting even more hysterical. "My real hair..."


    "Sit down."


    "My-"


    "Sit down! Now!" The commanding tone in Rosa''s voice made Reynard flop down lifelessly on his bed, and he stared up at her with hazy pupils.


    "Now listen to me," Rosa sighed and pinched her nose bridge. "Godˇ­I didn''t want to do it like this. You must''ve figured it out already, but yes, it''s true. You''re adopted."


    The color drained out of Reynard''s face and he stared at the floor, limp.


    The fact that he was adopted...he had always expected to hear it someday. It explained so many mystery''s, like why he talked differently than the rest of his family, why he looked different, why he laughed differently, why he always felt left out, why he never felt at inner peace and always wondered if something was wrong with himˇ­. There were so many questions, and too few answers.


    Though he had always somehow suspected it, it pained him to finally hear the much dreaded words.


    "Sh*t," he whispered, his voice breaking in the middle, as he put a hand over his face. "Why did they never tell me?"


    "Because they knew you''d be this way," she cried, finally letting go of her control.  "This-this-this-this way! The way you''re acting right now! As if you''re already dead, as if you''ve lost everything! You still have me, you still have your friends!"


    Reynard gave a shaky breath. "I feel betrayed right now. I always considered these two people my parents, and then they turned out to be unrelated to me. Do you know-"


    "Shut up!" Rosa cried. "They aren''t ''unrelated'' to you! They raised you as their own, and parented you when nobody else took you in. Do you know how poor they were then? They barely made ends meet, but still they took on more jobs just to raise this kid who came running about. Do you know how hard it was for them? And you still think they aren''t your parents?" Rosa broke into tears.


    Reynard didn''t know what to do since he had never seen his sister in this state. It was extraordinary, and not in a pleasant way.


    "H-Hey, calm down," he whispered as he took her wrist and squeezed reassuringly. "I know, I know. I love them regardless. Don''t rile yourself up like that again."


    Rosa sniffed. "Okay. I''ll warm up some water so take a proper shower this time." She went off and left Reynard on his own.


    That night, Reynard didn''t sleep.. Not a single second.

 Chapter 105 - Coming To Terms With

    The next morning as he slipped into the bathroom to wash his face, Reynard caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror again and he almost fell down.


    "God, was that not just a horrible dream?" he groaned to his reflection. But how could it have been a dream when he had barely slept the night?


    Then Reynard dressed up in cleaner clothes and whilst he put on his boots to go outside, his sister greeted him at his door.


    "Hey."


    "Hey," Reynard replied, and when he looked up, he was taken aback by the state of her. She had dark eye bags under her eyes as if she hadn''t slept as well, her eyes were puffy and tinged red from crying all night, and there were pillow marks on her cheek. "Are you okay?"


    Rosa shrugged, folding her arms and leaning against the doorframe.


    "Bad night. Where are you off to so early in the morning?"


    Reynard grunted, tugging at the laces of his boot. "Uncle Franke''s. I need to tell him about Father."


    Rosa frowned. "But didn''t we agree-"


    "I know," he cut in as he looked up to her. "I know we agreed to keep it a secret from everyone for a while, but truth be told, Rosa, he deserves to know. Probably even more so than us. He was Father''s best friend."


    Rosa pinched her nose bridge, something she had when she was frustrated. Reynard tied the laces of his boots up and stood up.


    "I''ll be off, then."


    "At least have some breakfast."


    Reynard stretched and yawned. "I don''t want you to get in the kitchen so early up. Don''t worry, I''ll be quick. Have you seen my sweater? It''s awfully cold."


    Rosa watched him as he slipped past her and into the living room, looking for his piece of garment.


    "Do you mean the green one? It got wet yesterday," she said, turning around. "You canˇ­ You can go check something in Father''s closet. Him and you are almost the same size."


    Reynard stopped in his tracks and slowly lifted his face towards the door to their parents'' room, the one where both of them slept together till Mother had to be shifted to another room when she got sick and Father moved his things into the barracks.


    None of the two had even stepped inside it yet, especially since their parents passed away. Now, as Reynard approached the brass door knob, he felt an overpowering urge to recoil away.


    "Go on," his sister whispered right behind him.


    Gathering the strength to do so, he turned the knob and pushed the door all the way till it hit against the wall. Stepping in, the first thing he noticed was that it was dark.


    "I''ll bring a lantern," Rosa whispered behind him and disappeared. Not waiting for her return, Reynard stepped in and found his way to the window that showed out into the street. With a swish of his hands, he pushed apart the drapes and sighed as cold, blue morning light flooded inside.


    He couldn''t imagine there were times when their parents used to share the same room. That was two years ago, and it felt like a lot more time than that. He turned around and stared at their parents'' neatly made bed and the two, feather pillows set side by side against each other near the head board.


    Reynard walked towards the small, wooden closet beside their bed and looked inside for any of his Father''s clothes, and indeed, he found a black wool sweater that looked a tiny bit smaller than his preferred size.


    "Mm, I think it''ll fit," he mumbled to himself as he closed the closet door, "since I''ve lost a bit of weight." He slipped it on and looked at himself in his parents'' mirror, and clenched his jaw. He now realized how unlike he was to his father; he didn''t look a bit like him.


    "Bye," Reynard muttered hastily to his sister as he walked past her, an unused lantern in her hand.


    "Wait!" she called to him as he opened the door, a cool gust of wind ready to greet them. Silently, Rosa put the lantern down on the table and approached her brother, her arms outstretched. "Give me a hug before you go, Reyn."


    It was such a sisterly thing to do, that for a moment, Reynard forgot that he wasn''t actually born in the family. Without waiting for her to come close enough to him, he rushed into her arms and hugged her tight.


    "Alright, alright," Rosa laughed, squeezing him. "I love you, you know?"


    Reynard let go of her and smiled. "Love you too."


    She smiled and neatened his hair with her slender fingers. "It suits you. The color, I mean. But you should cover it up so-"


    Reynard was getting impatient, not wanting to hear the rest.


    "See you!" he exclaimed before she could finish, then he disappeared out the door.


    "What am I going to do with this kid," Rosa chuckled as she closed the door properly after him. "I should be more careful. I almost told him something I shouldn''t last night. Gotta be more careful, yes, gotta be more careful." Then Rosa went to make herself a cup of tea before she started with her chores.


    ?


    Reynard made his way to ''The Longing Table''. He used the back door to go in this time, since he was in no mood to hear people laughing so early in the morning.


    The back door opened into the kitchen and Reynard gratefully took in the warm aroma of freshly cooked breakfast.


    "Marion!" Reynard beamed as he saw a familiar face working away at the cutting boards.


    Marion turned at his voice but paused, staring at him. "Yes?"


    Gradually, Reynard''s smile disappeared. "I-It''s me..."


    She narrowed her eyes. "Who?"


    He made a gesture with his palms, as if cutting something on a board. "I made carrot cake with you, Marion, don''t you remember?"


    It took a minute for her to realize. "Ahhhˇ­ Reynard! I remember now. I couldn''t recognize you because of your hair," she said as she got back to work. "Did you get it colored recently?"


    Reynard looked at her, confused. "Pardon?"


    "You had black hair previously, but the new color looks good, too. Is that what the youngster''s like nowadays?"


    Reynard laughed awkwardly as he realized that his hair was a shade of purple now. He should''ve really covered it before stepping out, just like Rosa said. Was that why so many people were giving him weird stares as he made his way here?


    Reynard leaned in to Marion and inquired, whispering, "Have you a cap?"


    Marion looked into the distance, thinking. "I have a head scarf if you want."


    Reynard nodded. a head scarf would have to do, though he had no idea how he would pull it off.


    "Thanks," he offered as Marion pulled out a long black patterned scarf from her apron pocket.


    "I put it in my pocket in a hurry." She smiled, trying to help Reynard tie it around his hair. "But I think there''s no need to hide the color; honestly, it looks good!"


    "Thanks, Marion," Reynard said as he tied a knot at the back of her head. "It''s okay. I came here to see Uncle Franke, so I''ll be off."


    "Alright, go on. Tell him I made a huge batch of fried dough for today, ''kay?"


    "Okay!" Reynard called as he left the kitchen through the swinging door.


    His eyes searched Uncle Franke''s desk but he wasn''t there. Reynard looked around the lounge but except for a few people enjoying warm breakfast and glasses of complimentary liquor, there was no one there.


    Upon checking the bar area, Reynar found him pouring drinks for some customers.


    "Reyn," he called him over when he matched his gaze. "Everybody, this is my godson, Reynard. His father''s the Emperor''s personal guard."


    There was a chorus of impressed ''OOOOHHHH''s'' and everybody turned to stare at the son of such a highly regarded man. Reynard didn''t smile; the mention of his father pained him.


    Uncle Franke laughed and eventually, he handed the drinks to his customers before catching up with Reynard.


    "You seem like you''re in a good mood," Reynard commented.


    Uncle Franke wiped his hands on the sides of his trousers and sighed. "Well, I heard there''s fried dough for dessert today. Anyways, why are you wearing the cloth on your head?"


    When Reynard didn''t answer, Uncle Franke decided to move on.


    "How goes your father''s treatment?"


    Reynard stopped in his tracks. Uncle Franke frowned, pausing with him.


    "What?"


    Reynard let out a shaky breath.


    "What?" Uncle Franke asked again. "Is the treatment too costly?"


    Reynard shook his head. "The treatment ended long ago."


    Uncle Franke put his hands on his hips, his bushy white eyebrows coming together in a frown. "So what''s the problem?"


    Reynard mumbled a barely audible answer into his chest.


    "Huh?" Uncle Franke leaned in, unable to understand.


    Reynard looked up, a sad look in his eyes. "He''s dead. Father''s dead."


    Uncle Franke still couldn''t understand. "You know I don''t joke about these things."


    Reynard forced a genuinely sad smile upon his lips. "I don''t joke about these things either, Uncle. We''ve already buried him, too."


    That was when the earth slipped out from his uncle''s feet and his legs couldn''t hold on anymore. With a loud ''thud'', he fell to the floor.


    "No way," he mumbled, looking at the planks beneath him. "There''s no way..."


    "Get up," Reynard grunted, tugging at his arms.


    "We promised not to die before each other..."


    "A foolish promise," Reynard grunted. "Get up, will you?"


    "...That bastard broke his promise..."


    "Uncle-"


    For the rest of his life, Reynard would never be able to forget the ear shattering howl that escaped his Uncle''s lips then.. It was the most painful thing he had ever heard, so painful that it almost broke him down.

 Chapter 106 - Comfort Food

    [At Ogden Cove the same morning]


    I woke up in a room though yet similar to mine in structure, but unlike mine at all.


    I sat up in bed and held my face for a few moments as memories of last night came rushing back to me. To think that there were three dead bodies in the house with trails of blood everywhereˇ­ I shuddered.


    Slowly, I lifted the covers and stepped out of bed, stretching my arms in the process.


    "God," I mumbled tiredly. "I don''t want to smell blood so early in the morning."


    I looked around my new room for the while, and realized that this was the fifth room, the room Mama had previously locked up. She probably unlocked it the day too many guests arrived at once, to provide them a more comfortable night.


    Slowly, I looked under the bed, trying to see if the loose plank had unscrewed. It was dark and the early morning light flooding in through the small was not enough to see in the small nook, so I stood up and sighed.


    I hand combed my hair before heading out. At once, I ran into Sven on the landing.


    "Good morning," I said, puzzled. "What are you doing?"


    Sven had a mop in his hands which he was scrubbing against the floor in order to remove the dried blood stains.


    "I thought you didn''t like blood," I said, looking at him.


    He shrugged. "I don''t. But I also don''t want a princess to live in this inn when it''s in such a state."


    "Quiet," I hissed as I looked at the other doors, doors which were still clamped shut. I turned to Sven again, a frown on my face. "What if someone heard you? This is supposed to be a secret, if you don''t mind."


    He chuckled, trying to keep things light, but I could tell by the masked expression on his face that he was struggling to stay in the presence of all this blood. The smell even bothered me.


    "Okay, I''m heading down," I said as I carefully treaded over the bloodless part of the floor. "Is Mama Ruth awake yet?"


    Sven shrugged again. "Dunno. Everyone was asleep when I woke up."


    Sighing, I skipped down the bloody steps and peeked into Mama''s room, which was dark.


    "Mama," I whispered.


    "What are you doing?"


    I turned around and saw Mama narrowing her eyes at me from the kitchen.


    "You''re up?" she asked as she wiped her face with her sleeve. "Come help in the kitchen. Klyn''s been trying to make soup for the past hour."


    "What?" I asked, puzzled, as I followed her in the kitchen. There indeed stood Klyn near the counter, and I was surprised to see him with his mask off. He was handsome underneath the cover, and his lips were a maroon-ish purple shade. Overall, with his black eyes, fair skin and dark lips, he looked like a ghoul, or much better, a grim reaper ready to take my soul. I tried to hide the shiver than ran down my spine, but when I saw him struggling with the chicken, I laughed. He stared at me.


    "Are you trying to shred raw chicken? Here, let me." I said as I pushed him aside and got to work on the bits of chopped chicken along with the bones. It had been a while since I had some good soup, and considering that the weather had gotten so cold so quickly, it would be the perfect comfort food.


    Klyn stared down at what I was doing , his eyes fixed in deep concentration. For a while, I almost forgot what he was involved in last night and immersed myself in the joys of cooking good food.


    I added all the spices and let them merge with the boiling water. Then I cracked an egg and quickly stirred the separated whites into the spiced water, which formed lovely white swirls of egg in the soup. I added in some vegetables that Mama had chopped earlier and finally put in the simmered chicken. I put on the lid to the pot and let the whole mixture sit on the flame for a while


    I turned around to Mama and Klyn, staring at me in awe.


    "That was surprising," Mama commented. "You managed what Klyn couldn''t do in an hour in just 15 minutes. I''m amazed, lassie."


    Klyn nodded in agreement. I blushed at the praise and laughed.


    "Thanks. This was nothing."


    Soon, all five of us sat at the table and gulped down warm bowls of fresh chicken soup.


    "This is absolutely delicious," Hector mumbled as he slurped on the comforting soup. "There''s magic in your hands, Mama Ruth."


    "Not me," Mama snapped as she helped herself to a second serving. She pointed at me. "It was her. She made it."


    Eyes turned to me and I paused eating.


    "Wow, that''s amazing. Even my wife''s never made something as flavorful as this," Hector complemented and then helped himself to another serving as well.


    The only one not eating his share was Sven. If I didn''t know any better, I would''ve taken it as an offense, but I figured that the stench of blood had taken away his appetite. I was about to say something to him when a series of crisp knocks came at the door.


    "I''ll check," I offered as I hopped out of my seat and unlocked the door. Opening it an inch, I peered outside and saw Reynard''s familiar face staring down at me.


    "You!" I said, surprised. "We''re having breakfast. Care to join us?"


    Reynard shook his head. For some reason, he seemed more grave than usual. Was something up with him?


    "Um, can I talk to you?" he said, putting his hands in his pockets.


    "Out here?" I asked, confused.


    "Erm..." He peeked inside past me and frowned. "Does Mama have guests over?"


    I nodded as I quickly stepped outside and closed the door behind me before he could see more. I didn''t want him to know what was going on in the inn. It would create such a fuss if he realized we were getting involved with assassins and dead bodies and whatnot.


    "Let''s talk out here," I said. "So what''s been going on with you? Anything interesting happened lately?"


    He muttered something under his breath which I wasn''t able to catch. Then he sighed and said, "A lot of things have happened over the past few days. What about you? Anything happened that I should know of?"


    I smiled innocently and tilted my head to the side. "The same old. By the way, why are you wearing that weird scarf on your head?"


    "This?" he asked, touching the patterned piece of cloth. "Oh, umˇ­ Just because. I''ll tell you later."


    I frowned. "Okayˇ­ Oh! I just remembered. Should I just give you my hair right now? You didn''t come around after the last time we talked so I was never able to-"


    "That won''t be necessary," he breathed, a cloud of mist forming in the air as he spoke. "Not anymore, that is."


    I frowned. "Why not? OMG, is she cured? That''s such good news!"


    He shook his head. "Well, no. She died."


    I stopped celebrating at once and stood rooted to my spot. "Sheˇ­ She''s dead? Who''s dead? Not your mother, right?"


    He gave me a painfully sad smile. "Yes, her."


    "Ohˇ­ I''m so sorry, Reynard. I''m so sorry. I should''ve-"


    "No, it''s okay," he sighed. "It was never your fault, so you have nothing to apologize for."


    I fidgeted with my hands as I stared at the ground. Oh dear, no. If only I had given him my hair at the beginning, if only I had been more efficientˇ­ We could''ve saved her life. I sniffed as I thought about it. Even though he said it was not my fault, I still felt at blame for her loss.


    "Arghh!" I groaned with my face in my hands. "I''m still sorry Reyard. At least you still have your father." As soon as I said that, I knew by the crumpled expression on Reynard''s face that something was even more wrong. "What?" I whispered, afraid of what he''d say.


    "Um, so my father died, too," he murmured, avoiding my gaze. "I just- Everything happened in the span of a few days so it was a lot to absorb, but I-"


    "You''re not kidding?" I whispered, which made him stop talking.


    He gave me another sad smile. "I wish I was," he whispered back.


    "What are you going to do now?"


    He shrugged and sighed. "I don''t know. I''ve taken some time off work to spend it with Rosa. If not for her, I''d never have been able to cope with such great losses."


    I squeezed my hands together, not knowing what to say. As someone who had gone through something similar, losing both parents wasn''t something easy to get over. I opened my mouth to say something that would be of consolation, but closed it again, wondering if it would feel bad for him to hear. Reynard saw me trying and chuckled, which was the saddest thing I ever heard.


    "It''s okay," he said. "I''d rather you don''t treat me any differently than you normally do just because my parents are dead. That''s a daft excuse, anyways."


    I nodded. "Of course. Anyways, so I was thinking something."


    He folded his arms and leaned against the inn''s wall. "Do tell."


    I hesitated, then sighed. "Truth be told, I''ve been having thoughts about moving out. I don''t think it''s good to keep burdening Mama like this, especially when she''s already tight on money. What do you think?"


    He made a face. "Seriously? If Mama didn''t like you staying at her place, she would''ve kicked you out long ago. The fact that she hasn''t is a miracle on its own. I''ve seen too many a times when she turned away people from the inn whom she didn''t like."


    I laughed. It was good to know at least someone, somewhere in this fictional world, was willing to let me stay at their home. I don''t know what I''d be doing if Mama had turned me away from her door when we first turned up here. I''d probably be hidden in an alley, living off of garbage food.


    To think that I was able to enjoy warm soup in such weather was truly a blessing.

 Chapter 107 - Where Will I Go?

    "I''ll be heading out, then."


    "Already?" I asked as Reynard dusted the shoulder he had been leaning against the wall on.


    He looked at me, a puzzled expression upon his face. "Do you not want me to?"


    I shrugged. "Erm, I''d have loved to invite you inside, but-"


    "I know." He smiled. "But I''d rather not disrupt. Anyways, I''ll come back in a day or two when I get some things settled."


    I frowned. "What things?"


    Vaguely, he stared off into the distance. It seemed as if he did not want to reply, but after the atmosphere had gone silent for much longer than necessary, he sighed and spoke up.


    "You remember Uncle Franke?"


    I nodded.


    "Well, he''s not faring well with the news of his good friend''s passing away. I almost had to slap him to bring him to conscience," Reynard dragged a hand down his face and grumbled. "And Rosa, too. She''s taken a break from work and is alone at home, so I need to get back to her. Who knows what she''ll do if I let her alone for long." He mumbled the last part, but I heard it every word for word.


    "I hope things get better," I consoled him as I patted his arm. "Just don''t tire yourself out, alright? And make sure everyone eats lots of good food. I find it pretty comforting at times."


    He gave me a genuine smile as he turned around on his heel. "Will do, mademoiselle. Thanks for your concern," he said as he waved his hand in the air, bidding me farewell.


    I chuckled and turned around to head back inside, but then I noticed something. It was small, and for a moment I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me, but when I focused on Reynard''s shrinking body, I knew I wasn''t seeing things.


    There, right under a little slit in his scarf, was a small, visible patch of purple. The scarf was void of any purple colors, so I wondered what it was.


    Was it his...hair?


    "No, it couldn''t be," I whispered to myself as I opened the door. "I must be out of my mind. Nobody had purple hair in this Empire other than me."


    Shaking away all thoughts, I returned to the table where everyone was just finishing up. I helped Mama clear away the bowls of finished soup and put them in the washing.


    That morning, when I went back to my new room, I decided to put away Mama''s lily brooch back in its place, right there, under my bed. Carefully, this time, I wriggled under the bed and pulled up the loose plank, which came away much easier now. I got the brooch from my nightside drawer and carefully placed it inside before making sure I wasn''t confusing it with mine.


    "What are you doing?"


    In my haste to pull myself out from under the bed, I banged my head on the wooden edge and held my scalp in pain.


    "Are you okay!?" Sven pulled me out with one, swift movement and made me sit up. "Gosh, that was a loud bang. Where does it hurt?"


    I put a hand up at which he stopped talking, and with my other arm, I rubbed at my sore spot which stung like hell. Oh God, why am I always getting involved in such things?


    "I''m okay, I think," I groaned as I looked up at Sven''s worried face. "Thanks."


    He frowned at me as he sat back on the floor. "What were you doing under there anyways?" he asked as he lifted the bed sheet that hung at the sides of the bed.


    "No!" I swatted his hands away and he stared at me in puzzlement.


    "Huh?"


    "Shh, has no one taught you to not peek under a lady''s bed?" When he still seemed confused, I cleared my throat and added, "There might be lady stuff under the shelter of the sheets."


    It took him a minute, but when he finally understood, a deep blush came over his face. I tried to stifle my laughter as I took advantage of his panic and furtively replaced the wooden plank back into its spot.


    "Um!" he said, his face as red as a tomato. "I-I-I won''t look anymore. Sorry. So sorry. I''m sorry."


    Finally, I let go and erupted into laughter, even more when his blush deepened down to his neck.


    "D-Don''t laugh!" he exclaimed, slapping the wooden floor. "I said I''m sorry."


    "I know," I breathed as I wiped away a tear. "Godˇ­ Okay, I won''t laugh anymore." The hopeful expression on his face made me erupt once more, despite my visible effort not to.


    "You said you won''t!" he muttered as he covered his face and leaned back against my nightstand.


    "Okay," I sighed, relaxing. "Okay, I won''t. Did you eat anything?"


    He smiled at the subtle change of topic. "I ate an apple. Sorry I wasn''t able to taste your soup."


    "It''s alright. I''ll make it again next week."


    I paused when his smiley expression turned stone cold, almost disapproving.


    "What happened?" I asked due to the sudden change in atmosphere.


    "Will you even be here next week?" he muttered bitterly, steadily matching my gaze.


    I tilted my head, genuinely puzzled. "Why won''t I be?"


    Sven raked a hand through his silvery hair, clearly frustrated. I could see that he was debating whether or not to speak his mind. I waited in anticipation. Eventually, he sighed, looking me in the eye again.


    "I overheard your conversation with her last night," he said calmly, clenching his jaw.


    "Huh?"


    "You said you wanted to leave."


    Oh. So that''s what this was about. I let out the breath I had been holding. Clenching my hands, I assessed the look of betrayal on his face.


    "Yes, but that was-"


    "You said you wanted to leave," he said again, clenching his jaw.


    I paused. "You already mentioned it, Sven."


    "I can''t believe you want to leave."


    "I don''t-"


    He threw his hands up in the air. "Why? Are we lacking something? Is staying at this small place too ill-suited for you?"


    "Sven-"


    "Are we bad people? Do you not like us because we are poor?"


    "Sven!"


    My yell made him stop talking, and frustrated, he looked away. I sighed, holding my forehead.


    "You''ve muddled it all up!" I cried, crushed by his assumptions. "I would never look upon any one of you with contempt. What is wrong with you? Have I ever once implied that I hated you? Tell me, have I ever?"


    Slowly, he shook his head, still looking to the side.


    I leaned against the side of my bed, staring at him. "You were half right in your claims." At this, he flinched, but didn''t say anything. "Yes, I did want to leave. But not because I don''t like this place. It''s like a second home to me, how could I ever?"


    I noticed him fold his hand into a fist. I decided to carry on.


    "It''s not easy for me to talk about this to just anyone, do you hear me?" I said, tapping on his knee. "I wanted to leave because I felt I was a burden on you all. As if I had disrupted the course of your lives. If it wasn''t for me, none of this-this-this crap! None of it would''ve happened." I gestured around as I spoke.


    At my words, Sven turned to me and scowled as if he couldn''t believe what I had said.


    "You''re kidding," he said plainly, as if he didn''t believe me. I shook my head. "What is wrong with you!? Why would you think you were burdening us?"


    "I thought at first, okay?" I cried defensively. "But Mama''s clearly told me that I''m nothing of the sort, and that she liked having me around. Reynard said something along the same lines, so I''m not leaving. Not any time soon.."


    Sven frowned. "Reynard? Who''s that?"


    "The tall guy I came here with."


    "Oh. I was wondering who was at the door earlier. So it was him."


    I nodded. "Yes." I disliked going on with this topic. It was as if I was walking over thin ice, so I decided to change the direction of our conversation. "Okay, um. Do you want to play a game?" It was the first thing that came to my mind then, and I regretted it as soon as the words left my mouth.


    He raised an eyebrow. "Don''t try to change the topic."


    I rolled my eyes. Gosh, this was beginning to stress me out.


    "I was just being nice," I muttered, irritated. "Can you leave? I want to take a nap." (Seonhee, in fact, did not want to take a nap.)


    For a moment, he studied me with narrowed eyes and then stood up. "Fine." With that, and not a word more, he simply left me alone. As soon as he closed the door behind himself, I leaned back against my bed once more and rested my head back on the thin mattress. I gave a long sigh and stood up, groaning.


    I pulled my hair out of my ponytail and they tumbled down to my knees, spreading out evenly. I massaged my scalp to ease them down. My hair had been wavy when I had first come here, but now they had straightened out to their original form.


    I felt a small bump at the back of my head where I had hit my head and I rubbed it again. To think I was rubbing a fictional character''s head. A made up character written down by someone. And it didn''t feel fake in any respect; it was all real. So real were my surroundings that I often forgot I was supposed to be living in a fictional character''s body.


    I hurt, I bled, I laughed and cried just like any real person would.. I couldn''t imagine what would happen to me if someday, this fictional world was wiped from existence just like it was supposed to from the very start. What would happen to me then? Where will I go?

 Chapter 108 - To The Pond, Once More

    [At the Palace ? Continuing from Chapter 102]


    The next morning, Yvonne awoke, refreshed.


    She hummed a merry tune as she got out of bed and slipped on her bathrobe as she remembered the events of last night.


    The reception had ended early since the guests were itching to leave.


    "Why not stay for a while?" the Emperor asked as the Duke stood up, signaling his family to do the same. Aspen remained seated.


    The Duke smiled patiently, not trying to appear rude in his haste to save his tail.


    "It was a most delightful soir¨¦e, and we wish we could extend our stay," the Duke said as he exchanged glances with his wife, "but I''m afraid we can''t be in your presence for much longer. We have to reach the Lands by tomorrow morning in any case, and it''ll only be possible for us if we head out by carriage as soon as the circumstances permit us to do so. The duchy has been left unattended for far too long, in my opinion."


    Beside Yvonne, Aspen let out a low chuckle. By that single sound, Yvonne knew the Emperor was being lied to. Duke Huxley was in no hurry to get back to the duchy; he knew he was far safer if he remained hidden in a foreign empire rather than returning to the place loaded with enemies.


    "Then we shall see you off," the Emperor announced grandly as he stood up. Promptly, the mistresses stood to their feet as well. Yvonne sighed and followed their example, being the last one of the mistresses to rise on her heels.


    Even then, Aspen crossed one leg over his other and didn''t budge an inch.


    "Open the doors, Carsten," the Emperor announced to his Butler who stood to attention and scurried off. Not a moment later, the doors were thrown open and the hustle-bustle noise of busy palace staff flooded in. It was a merry atmosphere, and Yvonne smiled as she suddenly remembered the quiet corridors of King Irvin''s palace, where pin-drop silence was observed by each member of the faculty.


    "Come, let us see you off to the front gates," the Emperor gestured everyone to move. Finally, Aspen, too, took to his feet, groaning as he did so.


    "If you don''t mind me asking, Mister Yelwynn, may I ask how old you are?" Yvonne asked as everyone followed the Emperor and the duke to the door.


    Aspen, who walked beside Yvonne for a reason best known to himself, turned to look at Yvonne with an eyebrow arched.


    "Why the sudden inquiry?"


    Yvonne shrugged. "Just wondering."


    "28," he replied after a stretched moment of silence. He smirked. "What do you make of that? Too young? Too old?"


    Yvonne shrugged again. Who was she to judge?


    "It''s quite unexpected of Duke Lucan Huxley to take on a young advisor," Yvonne commented as everyone crossed the threshold.


    He chuckled, his eyes scanning the extravagant corridors of the imperial palace, leading to the exit. "I''m what you call a ''Young Prodigy''. I bet you''ve never heard of me before, but I have quite the pleasant reputation back in the Lands."


    Yvonne stifled a chuckle, maintaining a cold demeanor. "As a supporter of the notorious family of the liege lord?"


    "Good God, no!" Aspen defended himself at once, turning to Yvonne with a surprised expression on his face. "Whatever made you think that? The fact that I work under them doesn''t mean I don''t support the cause of the revolt."


    "Oh?" Yvonne raised an eyebrow. Now this was interesting.


    He looked both ways, making sure his voice was unheard by anyone except Lady Sumner. "Yes, I thoroughly dislike this snobbish family, and I''d twist each of their necks if I could. But sadly, how else would I pay my expenses? Anything for a decent wage."


    A frown came over Yvonne''s pretty face. "But aren''t you still aiding them by advising about managing the riots?"


    "Who says I am?" Aspen chuckled as he moved closer to Yvonne, allowing a panicking maid to pass through. "Letting them get away with their sins was never on my bucket list."


    Frankly, Yvonne wanted to hear more about it, but as they all emerged from the palace and out into the moonlight, Yvonne knew it was time to bid each other farewell.


    "How can I contact you again?" Yvonne whispered furtively to Aspen, who made no effort to join the Duke''s family as they relayed their thanks to the Emperor.


    Aspen though for a moment. "We''re staying at the Duke''s friend''s place for a while, but I''ll be in trouble if word about it gets out. But I''ll meet you at the Pond tomorrow morning."


    "That''s fine by me," Yvonne said as she watched Aspen follow the Duke''s family out the front gate. Soon, their carriage disappeared into the distance and everyone headed to their chambers, turning in for the night.


    Now, as Yvonne selected a rather plain dress from her wardrobe to imitate the common people on Eyress'' streets, she could barely wait to ask the Duke''s close advisor a few questions still lingering at the back of her head.


    Stace was late yet again today, but Yvonne had too much on her mind to care about that. She headed to the bathroom for her daily bath where Wessey and Tmara stood to attention. Yvonne smiled upon noticing how the two young maids had not forgotten this time to prepare the things needed for the bath in advance.


    "A simple lavender scented bath would be sufficient today," Yvonne said to them as she looked at herself in the mirror. "Oh, and I need to head out soon, so I''d rather the bath is a quick one, please."


    While the maids scurried around to prepare, Stace casually strolled in, inspecting around as if she had done nothing wrong.


    "Is this how this''s going to be?" Yvonne asked, putting her hands on her hips and frowning. "Are we going to be meeting in the bathroom so on and so forth?"


    Stace chuckled. "Please. It''s just been two days." Shesighed and hopped onto the sink counter, not caring about any decorum as she spoke. "We were getting chewed out by the Emperor for not keeping the noise down last night. Give me a break, will you? I''m tired as is."


    Eventually, Yvonne softened down. "It''s fine. I was just stressed because I have to meet someone important today." She regretted her words as soon as they left her mouth.


    Stace leaned in, suddenly interested. "Meeting who?"


    Yvonne didn''t answer and stepped into the warm bath.


    "Tell me!" Stace pestered her. "Who are you meeting?"


    Yvonne kept her mouth shut. She was not going to say a word, or else by the time she returned, the gossip would have already reached far and wide.


    Giving up on it, Stace left the bathroom and brought back her lady''s dress just as she stepped out of the bathtub.


    "Why choose such a plain dress?" she asked, puzzled, as she stared at the long, anchor grey dress. It was plain, aside from the ruffles at the sleeves and a neat line of buttons going down to the waist. Yvonne had brought it along just in case, and to think it was becoming of use in such a situationˇ­


    Quickly, she got dressed and tied her hair in a low bun at the back of her neck and wore a wide-brimmed hat to shadow her alluring features. Today, her mission was to be as low profile as possible.


    If someone found out that the latest addition to the Emperor''s harem was roaming around with a random man, hell would break loose.


    Yvonne asked Stace to borrow a pair of maid shoes, since the shoes Yvonne had in her keeping were all extravagant and stylish.


    "Nice, these fit perfectly," she breathed as she slid on the black buckled shoes on her feet and stared at them in delight. "Thanks for fetching them for me, Stace.''


    "''Stealing'', them for you" Stace corrected. "It''s only one pair of shoes per maid. I had to risk my job getting these to you." Yvonne wasn''t paying attention to her anymore. Instead, she was staring at herself in awe in the lengthy mirror. Stace sighed. "How are you going to explain your leave from the palace?"


    "Don''t fret," Yvonne reassured as she turned around on her heels. "I''ve got everything planned out. Shall we head out, then?"


    Stace followed Yvonne out the back door of the palace and out into the gardens where several gardeners were attending to the flowers. They didn''t even bow to her since they were yet to recognize the lady because of the ordinary get-up. They must''ve thought it was just another maid retiring from the palace staff, which was more common than you would think.


    Yvonne didn''t even flick an eyelash in their direction as she headed to the courtyard where the carriages were kept. These were strictly for the use of the Royal Family, and no one else was allowed to board them.


    Carriage coaches stood by, laughing or talking to one another, ready to be of use.


    Yvonne approached a lovely black carriage with golden details on the doors and waited to be attended to. Stace stood beside her with her chin stuck out, ready for anyone to challenge her lady.


    "Yes, may I help you?" a man in his 40s approached the woman in the long, grey dress. Yvonne smiled under her wide-brimmed hat.


    "I''d like to visit a dressmaker in town," Yvonne said sweetly.


    "I''m sorry, but this carriage is only for members of the Royal Family," the man said, sounding genuinely apologetic.


    Yvonne lifted her hat from her head and the man bowed at once upon realizing who stood before him.


    "Right away, Your Highness," he mustered as he opened the door to his carriage. Other coaches blushed as they caught close-up sight of the rumored extraordinary beauty within the Emperor''s harem.


    Yvonne put on her hat again and boarded the carriage. Even though Stace wanted to accompany her lady, Yvonne had to leave her behind. If she wanted to be furtive, she had to learn to make no exceptions.


    The coach sat up front and his horses neighed and stamped their feet against the cobble stone as their reigns were pulled.


    "Which dressmakers shall I have the honor of driving you to?" the coach asked through the little window that looked into the carriage.


    Yvonne tried to keep a straight face, but failed as an accomplished smile spread over her lips.


    "Anywhere near the Pond of Divinity."

 Chapter 109 - Her Rendezvous [I]

    The carriage came to a halt in front of a store labelled ''Zabell&Glace''.


    The coach came around to the door and helped Yvonne off the two brass steps till she was standing on the pavement. Yvonne had expected for the coach to drive off and leave her be, but he waited expectantly by her side.


    "Won''t you leave?" Yvonne asked, her back facing the boutique door.


    The coach''s forehead wrinkled in confusion, as if he couldn''t believe what he was asked.


    "Of course not, Your Highness," he answered. "It is now my job to make sure your visit is safe, seeing that you brought along no guard of your own."


    "Hmm..." Yvonne wondered how she could get rid of him so she could trot off to the pond by herself, but it seemed that the man was in no hurry to leave.


    "Alright then. You may wait by the door while I browse inside," she ordered airily as she turned elegantly on her heel. With those parting words, and not leaving him any time to protest, Yvonne casually strolled inside.


    She made sure she didn''t make a huge show of it, and that her hat was lowered over her face at all times, as she went near a rack of hung dresses and fingered through the array of patterns. Even though many of them appealed to her, dress shopping was not her intention today.


    Yvonne pulled out a random dress and headed to the dressing rooms by the guide of the pointing signs up ahead. When she was well away from all eyes, Yvonne abandoned the poor dress and went in search of the back door, since every store always has one.


    Eventually, after pushing at each door, Yvonne finally came to one set farthest from the rest of the store and as soon as she pulled the handle, she knew she had made it.


    The chatter of commoners was like music to her ears. Like a free bird, Yvonne walked amongst the rest of the locals, for once not being afraid of being chased after by lustful men.


    She was new to the Empire, so she barely knew all the directions. But there were signs at all corners of the streets, presumably pointing tourists to the pond''s direction.


    The Pond of Divinity.


    Yvonne had only ever read about it in books before, so she didn''t know what to expect. But the clean, blue water and the atmosphere of lingering magic made it feel truly like a structure straight from heaven.


    Yvonne didn''t even need to look for Aspen; he was the first one to approach her.


    "M''lady, might I trouble you for a moment?" he said in a gentlemanly manner, as he bent low to catch a glimpse of Yvonne''s face under the sun hat. Startled, Yvonne stepped away to protect her face. When she finally recognized the voice, she let out a breath of relief and turned back to him with a small smile on her face.


    "You may trouble me all you want if it means I get my questions answered by today," she said with an air of royalty. Aspen smirked.


    Yvonne noticed that he was wearing a plain brown tabard over a white tunic, looking as if he could easily hide amongst the local crowd.


    "You seem to have a load of questions for me," Aspen commented as he raised his eyebrows. "I didn''t really think you''d turn up so early in the morning, actually. I was just about to leave."


    Yvonne chuckled as both of them started walking.


    "I''m not one for standing people up." She eyed the large stone slab in the middle of the pond and winced as she realized its purpose. "Shall we go somewhere safer to sit and talk?"


    "You''ve read my mind. That''d be best, especially considering the amount of spies the Emperor has scattered all over his land. Controlling, much? So, where to?"


    Yvonne thought about it for a moment. "Any bar would do."


    Aspen nodded and led her to a nearby pub. Yvonne didn''t wait to read the name and followed Aspen straight inside. It was a warm atmosphere, where people (mostly middle-aged men) sat along, gulping jugs of beer.


    Yvonne and Aspen settled in a table in the very corner of the room and turned away a server before he had even approached the two of them.


    "On second thoughts," Aspen muttered as he called back the young server, "I think I''ll have a drink. Anything for you?"


    Yvonne nodded. It had been a while since she had the freedom to consume proper alcohol, so she felt excited to try it again. Or was she just feeling giddy because it was the first time she was all alone, out in the wild like this?


    The server came back with high hopes.


    "Bring over an iced mead."


    "I''ll have a sherry. Any kind would do," Yvonne ordered, nodding at the server boy who blushed as he caught sight of the pretty lady.


    When the server was out of earshot, Yvonne turned to Aspen.


    "Why mead?"


    Aspen shrugged as he looked around at the decor of the pub. "I''m not too good with strong alcohol. I sure do hope their mead is worth my time, though."


    As soon as their drinks arrived, the two started talking.


    "So," Yvonne began first, "how''s the Duke this morning? I hope he wasn''t too unnerved by my thoughtless comments last night."


    Aspen smiled as he gulped his honey flavored drink. "Well then, I''ll have to disappoint you. He was cursing you out as soon as we were on our way in the carriage. Had to keep my mouth pursed the whole time, or else my laughs would have had me sacked."


    "Lovely," Yvonne muttered quite happily as she carefully sipped from the lean cocktail glass with her sherry, which was decorated by a red cherry. "Mind you, I only almost tattled on him because I disliked the way he acted so high and mighty. Entitled middle-aged men get easily on my nerves. Anyways, it''s good that he knows not to mess with the Royal Family, or else he''ll lose support from all sides. Where else can he go, anyways?"


    Aspen sighed, his black eyebrows crossed. "I''m aware. Pity that the only man capable of taking over the dukedom died. He was the public''s favorite, really. That''s why so many people have taken his passing away to heart."


    Yvonne put her elbows on the table and leaned forward, interested.


    "You said previously that the previous Marquess died in suspicious circumstances. What else can you tell me about it?"


    Furiously, Aspen gulped down half of his drink and slammed the jug on the table. Whilst everyone else turned to him in shock, Yvonne didn''t flinch.


    "His name was Olyver Huxley. Olyver, truth be told, was a gentle soul. He was kind to the people, he was soft-spoken and even the smallest of his gestures brought him praise from all sides. People thought that naturally, his younger brother, Parr, would follow in his footsteps. Even though Parr tried his best, he still had this inferiority complex that he could just never get over even when I sat down and talked to him about it. But then one morning, he was found stabbed in his chamber."


    Yvonne let out a soft gasp. "No..."


    "Yes." Aspen gripped the handle of his jug so firm that his knuckles turned white. "That was when all hell broke loose. Someone claimed that they had last seen the younger brother exit his brother''s room with blood on his clothes, someone blamed the Duchess for killing Olyver since he was the son of Lucan''s mistress, others blamed the Duke himselfˇ­ It was pure chaos, I tell you. The protests spread like quick-fire once many of the servants were severely punished for blaming the Duke''s family for the alleged hate crime, but not providing sufficient proof for it."


    Yvonne winced as she gripped her unfinished glass of sherry.


    "And that''s not all!" Aspen laughed as if he couldn''t believe it even himself. "Notice boards across the Empire became covered with leaflets, calling all abled men to join a secret assassination team to kill off the Duke''s family, to avenge the death of their beloved Marquess. And before you ask,"- he held up a hand to stop Yvonne from saying something- "yes, I was tempted to join."


    She scoffed. Was what she was hearing even real? She had known even before she had come to Wisteria that some riots were going on in the Lands of Sovia, and that''s how she had used her limited knowledge to bait the Duke. But what she was hearing was totally different from what she had imagined!


    "I can''t believe it," Yvonne said, her voice almost a whisper.


    Aspen nodded wisely. "As someone who was just playing the part of a side character in the life of the Duke''s family, I was there to witness it all. From the discovery of the dead Marquess to the flaming of the rampage, I was everywhere. And did I ever do anything to stop it all even when I perfectly knew how to? I didn''t." Aspen let out a laugh.


    Yvonne sipped her sherry once more as she released her shoulders from their tense state. "I understand everything, except why the new Marquess was here to marry. I heard he held a Selection ball not too long ago."


    Aspen popped his knuckles one by one as he thought about it.


    "It''s a custom for the Duke''s family," he replied after a moment. "An old codicil or something. It says that no man, whether the direct descendant of the duke, shall inherit the dukedom prior to marriage. It''s a daft will, but who am I to judge?"


    Yvonne  nodded slowly. This was a lot for her to take in. But what was she going to do with this open chest of knowledge? Yvonne stared at the man before her who chugged down the last few inches of his drink before wiping his mouth with his sleeve.


    What was she to do?

 Chapter 110 - Her Rendezvous [II]

    The meeting didn''t end till both of them had had two finished drinks each.


    Yvonne knew she was stretching it out more than she could risk, but she learned a few important things in her little rendezvous that would very soon be coming to good use for her.


    As Yvonne made her way back to the boutique (which had not been but more than a distraction for the coach), she remembered back at what Aspen had casually remarked about.


    "You know, I''ve actually been thinking about it during my stay here in Wisteria," he said slowly and chuckled. "Mind you, we''ve been here for a nice while. I''ve noticed that the Emperor doesn''t really care about much, other than one thing."


    "What?" Yvonne asked, seemingly uninterested. Aspen was about to answer when he stopped and called the server boy over again. Yvonne groaned inwardly. When the server boy arrived and orders for second drinks were placed. Yvonne ordered herself a diluted prunell¨¦. At once, he was sent back and Yvonne turned back to her associate.


    Aspen smiled, knowing that the dramatic pause was torture to her, even if she acted as if she couldn''t care less. Yvonne waited in anticipation, though she already knew the answer.


    "The Imperial Throne," Aspen replied finally. "Maintaining his top of the chart hierarchy. Abiding by anything that brings him wealth and fame, even if it is immoral."


    Yvonne nodded. She had known that, of course, but how was it any important information?


    The server boy returned with a tray and served drinks to both of them before returning back to his post. Aspen took a sip of his drink (a lemon topped mulberry gin) before he decided to speak again.


    "Ah, that''s good stuff," he muttered as he placed his glass back on the table. "Do you find that hideous looking plum drink to your liking?"


    Yvonne smiled and folded her arms. She had yet to drink for her glass.


    "Yes, it''s fine. But how does him caring for his throne have anything to do with us?


    Aspen laughed. "Calm, now. It has everything to do with us," he said before taking another sip of his gin. "Because if we knew the extent of his hunger to remain on the throne, then that would explain why he altered the prophecy."


    Yvonne blinked. "What the hell are you talking about?"


    Aspen leaned forward in his chair, his handsome face eerily lit by a hanging lantern overhead. "I''m saying that he would even amend the prophecy to his liking if it meant that the Empire won''t slip away from his hands. You and I both know that."


    Yvonne knew she was getting too wrapped up in something that could just be a conspiracy theory against the Emperor. But something at the back of her mind was telling her that what this young prodigy of a man was telling her only confirmed the suspicions she had had all along.


    She decided to challenge him one more time. "But how could he have possibly changed the prophecy when so many people know of the original one already?"


    "Simple answer." Aspen shrugged. "He had already had the 500 year old prophecy removed from writing from all parts of the Empire as best as he could. But to be honest, it wasn''t that hard of a job since legit written confirmation of the prophecy''s terms was barely even there. Not many people keep 500 year old pieces of parchment in the most optimum conditions.


    "But the prophecy had already been contaminated because of the unreliable mouth-to-mouth phenomenon it had been passed down as since generations dating back. It wouldn''t have been hard for him to claim he found the actual words of the priestess''s descendant confirming the actual prophecy, when in truth, it was just a forged piece of paper. I know, because the divine prophecy we all know today is illogical and daft. God couldn''t be so dumb."


    Yvonne blinked as she took that all in.


    "You''re a prodigy; you''d know that," she chuckled finally. Both of them laughed and then sighed, finally falling silent.


    "But what could''ve been the actual prophecy?" Yvonne wondered out loud. "Was it so bad that he had to go ahead and amend it to his liking?"


    "I have a vague idea," Aspen offered as he swirled his gin around in his glass. "The part about the awakening of powers was probably true, even though we have no way of knowing that. But I think, judging by the intellect of your Emperor, he couldn''t have made that up. And the Royal family would''ve been humiliated if the princess remained powerless even after coming of age, so it''s a direct loss for him if he took the risk of making it up. But the part about killing the princess after a year of exploiting herˇ­ I think he''s made that up."


    Yvonne tilted her head. "Why do you think so?"


    He waved his hand in the hair, drawing an imaginary picture as he thought about how to answer. Eventually, he sighed. "I don''t know, it''s just too abrupt. I don''t believe God would''ve been that cruel to his own creation after going through all the effort to provide her with powers in the first place."


    Yvonne nodded slowly. "Good God, that''s a lot to take in."


    Aspen nodded thoughtfully. "The possibility of it allˇ­ It''s baffling, really. Who could''ve wondered such foul play could''ve been taking place on the insides without anyone else knowing."


    "But still, I still don''t understand why he would''ve wanted to kill her in the amended version of the prophecy."


    Aspen scratched his chin as he thought. For a moment, all went silent. Then his eyes widened as he finally realized.


    "What if it was because the original prophecy removed the Emperor from his throne?"


    Yvonne finally decided to sample her prunell¨¦, which turned out to be fruity and refreshing. Then she put the glass back down and interlaced her fingers on her knees.


    "What do you think?" Aspen asked, looking at her expectantly.


    "I think that you,. Mister Yelwynn," Yvonne said and paused, staring into his dark eyes, "have cracked it."


    Aspen broke into a grin.


    "It would totally make sense if he would want to change up the prophecy because it was of disadvantage to him. There''s this old law set by the 12 founding sages of this Wisteria that a woman can''t become emperor, even if she was the only child of the current holder of the throne. What if," Yvonne paused as she thought over the possibility. "What if God''s words set out to defy that?"


    Aspen massaged his nose bridge. "God, why make things so complicated?" he muttered as he glanced at the ceiling. "I think likewise, actually. The Emperor is no man to give away his throne to his daughter, and if the prophecy prophesied something of the sort, he would''ve had no choice but to change it because of his pride. He couldn''t take the risk."


    Yvonne nodded. "But what are we going to do with this information? We have no proof."


    Aspen groaned. "And to top it all off, the princess is dead. Good God, if she was still alive, we could''ve proceeded so much faster."


    Yvonne pursed her lips. Should she tell him now that the princess was, in fact, still well and alive? No, she couldn''t risk it; she still didn''t trust the man enough to give away such a big secret.


    For a moment, all was silent.


    Yvonne stared at Aspen as he looked at the table, lost in his thoughts. She knew he was cooking up a scheme, and by the way he raised his eyebrows as if he just realized something was when Yvonne knew he had it in the bag.


    "For someone dealing with the loss of his only child," Aspen muttered as he still stared at the table, "the Emperor seems quite happy, am I wrong?"


    Yvonne tapped the side of her glass with her nail, not knowing how this would help them. "I''m glad it has come to someone else''s attention other than mine. It''s as if he''s much more relieved after the news of her passing away. He barely even shed a tear at the funeral!"


    Aspen frowned and downed his drink before sighing.


    "It''s as if she wasn''t even his daughter," Aspen hissed, looking Yvonne straight in the eye.


    Yvonne leaned back in her chair, shocked at the statement her associate was so bold enough to make. If he had said something of the likes at the reception out loud, he was sure to be castigated for defamation. But when Yvonne took the time to think about it, hadn''t it crossed her mind even once? It had, of course it had. The possibility that the Emperor wasn''t even the princess''s father would be the final missing piece in this whole, gigantic puzzle in Yvonne''s mind.


    "What do you think?" he asked, leaning forward in his chair with his eyebrows raised.


    Yvonne''s eyes widened. "But that would mean-"


    "Yes." There was a mischievous gleam in Aspen''s eyes.


    Yvonne scoffed unbelievably. "But if he''s not his fatherˇ­then who is he?"


    A smirk played upon Aspen''s lips. "Take a guess."


    "..."


    "..."


    "..."


    "..."


    "Good God." Yvonne put her hand over her mouth. "I can''t beˇ­ But then what happened to her actual father?"


    "Killed, I presume."


    Yvonne held her head, feeling sick. "My God..."


    Aspen leaned back in his chair, satisfied. "Yes. To think that the Emperor was the imposter all alongˇ­ I was in his presence last night! If I had known then, I would''ve killed the old beggar."


    Yvonne smacked her hand on the table, bringing Aspen back to his senses. "Hush! Lower your voice. I''m just as excited as you are, but we must proceed with caution now. I''ll let you in on a big secret once you gain my trust."


    Aspen frowned. Yvonne had now realized how crucial it was for her to add a strong contender to her team to help make right what''s right.. After all, the princess''s rightful place was on the throne to begin with.

 Chapter 111 - Blazing Souls

    Yvonne gripped the handles of her chair as she remembered something.


    "I realized it was a bit daft of me to react so surprised to finding out about the current Emperor not being the princess''s father," Yvonne muttered, "because I had had a hunch about it long ago."


    Aspen leaned forward in his chair, his arms on the low table. "Why so?"


    "It''s weird that there hasn''t been a single pregnancy even though the Emperor has had his mistresses for so long." Yvonne shrugged. "There''s absolutely no way he hasn''t touched any of his women at all. If that was the case, someone would have said something about it."


    "So you''re saying that the Emperor might be sterile?"


    Yvonne nodded, an inspired gleam in her eyes. "Exactly. It''s unlikely that all the mistresses would be infertile, so it has to be him. And,"- Yvonne smiled as she remembered- "I''ve actually confirmed my suspicions not too long ago."


    Aspen arched an eyebrow. "How?"


    Yvonne looked both ways before leaning in and whispering, "I pretended I was pregnant."


    "Pregnant?"


    "Yes." She nodded.


    Aspen, apparently, still didn''t understand. "How does that confirm your suspicions?"


    Yvonne sighed. "I pretended to be bearing the Emperor''s baby, you fool! Imagine the shock the Emperor''s old physician received when I lied to him about it."


    "I still don''t understand."


    Yvonne groaned and slapped a frustrated hand on the table. "Because the physician would be the only person to know if the Emperor is infertile or not! The clear shock and utter disbelief he portrayed confirmed any and all doubts about the Emperor being infertile. Would he have questioned my claim so many times if the Emperor hadn''t been sterile?"


    Aspen bit his lower lip, his eyebrows bent in a frown as he registered Yvonne''s words. She waited for him to realize the importance of her words.


    "My God, you''re right! How very clever of you," he muttered as he stroked his chin. "But aren''t you afraid of the consequences if the Emperor got word of it?"


    Yvonne leaned back, her posture relaxed. "No, because the physician gave me his word for keeping silent about it. And if he does decide to betray me,"- Yvonne shrugged carelessly- "I''ll just say there was some minor miscommunication. After all, the physician is an old man; the Emperor is likely to believe me rather than him. There''s nothing to worry about, Mister, I''ve got it all covered."


    Aspen chuckled. "You really are a strange woman. And please, you may call me Aspen. Being called ''Mister'' is just not my cup of tea."


    "Fine. Aspen it is." Yvonne sighed. "But what do we do now after we''ve established that the Emperor was the imposter all along?"


    Aspen tapped his finger on the table. "We bring him down a notch. And not one notch, mind you. I mean all the way."


    Yvonne''s eyes widened as she stared into Aspen''s mischievous ones. "How?"


    "That," Aspen whispered, "will be for another rendezvous, Goodbye, Your Highness."


    He scraped back his chair and went up to the barman. Yvonne saw him pay the man a heavy sum before strolling casually outside as if they hadn''t laid out the base of the most insane change of its time.


    Waiting a few minutes after he had disappeared out the door, Yvonne, too, took to her feet and left the bar without even giving it a single glance back. As she made her way back to the boutique, she realized that the sun had moved from its place by quite a distance, which meant that from the poor coachman''s point of view, Yvonne had been in the boutique for hours.


    "Dear God, please don''t let him suspect a thing," she prayed as she hastily entered the building through the back door and walked straight out the door as if she had been in the changing rooms the whole time.


    "Your Highness!" the man said in shock as the lady finally reappeared. "Are you alright? You took ages! I was almost going to come in and check on you."


    "Yes, well. Shall we leave, then?" Yvonne asked hopefully.


    "But you haven''t bought a thing..."


    "None of the dresses were to my liking. Help me up the carriage, will you?"


    Yvonne approached the carriage steps and the horses upfront neighed with frustration for having to wait so long out in the cold morning. With the coachman''s help, she boarded the pumpkin-shaped carriage and finally melted on her seat, letting go of all the built-up tension inside her. Soon enough, the horses started pulling it on the way back to the palace.


    Without even realizing it, Yvonne dozed off.


    ?


    [Back at what once was Ogden Cove]


    After breakfast, the men were immediately requested to dispose of the dead bodies.


    "Take them to the cemetery, throw them in the dumpster, or burn them in the incinerators, I don''t give a damn. Just get them out of my house, will you, Hector?" Mama muttered bitterly as she stared at the bloodied bodies in front of her entrance. "And get Sidmund out, too. "


    Hector''s face crumpled. "But how can we-"


    "They''re dead!" Mama snapped as she slapped the wall beside her, startling everyone in the room. "Let''s deal with it and move on. People die all the time, okay? It doesn''t make a difference if a few more do. After all, no one besides us will be affected by this ordeal, not in the whole wide world."


    Hector lowered his gaze and stared at the floor. Klyn''s face beside him remained emotionless, though I did think I saw his eye twitch.


    "Sidmund was your friend, Mama," Hector said gently.


    "I don''t care, okay?" Mama growled as she went back to her room, and before slamming her door in everyone''s face, she looked back one more time and said, "Just get them out of my sight."


    I could tell it was painful for her to see people lying dead on the floor with bloodied gashes on every inch of their bodies. It probably reminded her of her family. I sighed.


    "You both go up and get Sidmund down from my room," I instructed Hector and Klyn in a low voice, glancing nervously at Mama''s room, though her door remained shut. "Sven and I will..." I looked at Sven who refused to match my gaze. I turned back to the two with a sad smile. "We''ll wait here."


    Nodding, both of them headed upstairs.


    "Are you alright?" I asked Sven when everyone else was out of earshot. He looked like he was going to throw up any moment now. A few minutes ago, he had been so animated, but now, it was as if life had been drained out of him.


    "Um, yes," he mumbled as he turned away from me.


    I frowned. "You''re such a liar. It''s apparent there''s something wrong with you. Tell me before I change my mind about being nice." I was just teasing him so he''d open up to me, but I guess it didn''t work because he sighed and headed outside.


    "I''m going out to get some fresh air," he said.


    "Wait!" I called. Gesturing around at the dead bodies, I scoffed. "Who''s gonna deal with all of this?"


    "Figure it out," he mumbled before closing the door on me. Just behind me, Hector and Klyn came carrying Sidmund''s dead body down.


    "Where to?" Hector grumbled.


    "Um..." I glanced at the front door, hoping Sven would come back. "I think there''s a cemetery nearby. It''s better if you go out and check first, since I''m not too sure."


    The men exchanged glances. Then Hector turned to me. "Look, we can''t bury our men at a public cemetery since we''re not from around here. And it''s a long process to get a place in the already crowded grounds."


    "Then what do you do when foreigners like yourself die here?"


    He took a deep breath. "We burn the bodies."


    I gave a soft gasp. "No way..."


    "Yes." Hector gulped. "Is there perhaps an open ground around?"


    I wanted to say that I had no idea, but the way I trampled prohibited me from doing so. I could not imagine burning someone even if they were dead. How could one be so insensitive?


    I think I took too long to answer because Klyn reached forward and whispered something in Hector''s ear.


    "Fine. Let''s do it here," Hector said eventually.


    "What?" I whispered.


    "This inn has a backyard, doesn''t it?"


    My eyes widened. "You don''t mean..."


    Hector didn''t even bother to explain the rest, he just lifted Sidmund''s body over his shoulder and started walking towards the kitchen, where there was a door that led to the outside.


    "No!" I cried. "Not here!"


    Hector didn''t answer as he twisted the knob to the kitchen and threw the door open.


    "I beg you! Not here!"


    He clenched his jaw and remained silent as he headed to the back door. I followed him all the way out to the backyard, which was void of any lush greenery, just like the last time I had seen it. It was just a plain ground laid with soil bearing scarce patches of dried grass. The whole backyard was surrounded by a full coverage wooden fence and at two ends was tied a long piece of rope to hang wet laundry on.


    "Hector, don''t do it!" I called, my body trembling in the cold as I followed him outside.


    He dumped Sidmund''s body in the middle of the yard and turned to me, his face stone cold.


    "Will you shut up!?" he yelled at me, clearly out of sorts. "Shut up! Just shut up! I know, okay? I don''t want to do it either. I don''t want to see him like that." Tears started flowing down his cheeks as he stared at his dead friend laying on the bare ground, bending in all the different angles. "I don''t want to see him burn"


    As both of us stood under the cold sky, Klyn returned with the bodies of his two other accomplices over his arms. With two loud thumps, the corpses were laid in a heap on the ground.


    Klyn produced a handkerchief from his pocket which he set fire to using the small box of matches Mama usually kept in the kitchen. I watched in horror as the cloth got enveloped by golden flames.


    "Stand back," Klyn warned quietly before dropping the burning handkerchief over the bodies of his pals. I gave a shrill shriek as the flames grew slowly, taking over every part of the corpses.


    I wanted to get away, I wanted to look somewhere else, but my body was paralyzed with fear. Hector seemed to be in a state of shock as well because he stood very still as he stared at the burning corpses. The crackling of fire grew by the minute, being provoked by the short spells of cold wind.


    "No..." I whispered in agony as I was pulled away from the horrible sight. "What are you doing? What''s happening to them? Make it stop!"


    "Don''t fight it," Klyn murmured behind me as he pulled me inside by one hand and Hector with the other. He seemed to be out of sorts as he stared wide eyed at the burning bodies of men he had been buddies with not too long ago.


    I gasped for breath as I was led indoors, leaving the bodies to become ash outside in the cold.

 Chapter 112 - A Persistent Nightmare

    Neither Mama nor Sven upon his return were happy about what had just happened, while I sat crouched in a corner, wiping away tears.


    "I know I told you to be snappy about it," Mama hissed as she jabbed a finger into his abdomen, "but this was a little too impulsive, Hector."


    The man remained silent as he clenched his jaw. With the limit of my blurred vision, I looked at Sven, who seemed to be keeping himself together with a single thread, otherwise it looked like he was about to drop out cold at any moment.


    "The whole house stinks like the dead!" Mama cried, jabbing a finger into Hector''s abdomen once, twice, thriceˇ­


    "Even the neighborhood," Sven muttered as he leaned weakly against a wall.


    Mama sighed, taking off her spectacles. "Who thought burning the bodies in my backyard would be a good idea? Can''t you feel the cold Frauwa winds? Didn''t you think even once the smoke and stank would spread along with the breeze? Dear God, what were you thinking? You pair of fools."


    Hector and Klyn lowered their faces with shame. But I could tell Mama was going to let them get away with it. After all, she was a caring woman, even if she came across as harsh sometimes.


    "Now go get the remains cleaned up," she said as she stonily looked both men in the eyes. "Or else I''ll  have your livers for dinner. Go on, get out of my sight."


    Hesitantly, Klyn and Hector exited from the scene and I knew it wouldn''t be long before Mama would turn to me.


    "Now, what''s going on with you?" she asked, turning to me. See? I was right. "You''re a mess!"


    I wiped my cheeks with my sleeve and tried to stop sobbing, but the waterworks kept on coming. Mama and Sven looked upon my crouching body with a sad look (pity?) in their eyes.


    "I-I-I saw it!" I cried eventually. "Mama, he lit them! He lit themˇ­ I saw them burn, and-and-and-"


    "Hush!" Mama put a hand up and I paused, sobbing. "I know. Go up and wash your face. You too, Sven."


    "I''m fine."


    "I never asked. Both of you, go get yourselves washed and come back when you feel like you''re feeling better." She sighed. "I''m going to take a nap. None of you disturb me."As Mama turned to my room, she remembered something and then turned back to us. "And tell Hector and Klyn to get the f*ck out of my house."


    With that, she disappeared.


    There was a moment of silence before Sven came up to me and kneeled down.


    "Get off the floor," he said as he tugged on my arm. "It''s not such a big deal. Many dead people get burned everyday across the world, so let''s not shed tears about men you barely even knew."


    I gaped at him and snatched my arm away from him.


    "How can you be so insensitive about it?" I whispered angrily as new tears flowed down my cheeks. "They were once alive, too! For goodness'' sake, get away from me!"


    I pushed him away and stood to my feet before making my way upstairs. I had hoped he would stop me and at least apologize, but all my hopes were in vain as he never even followed me up the stairs.


    Broken, I slammed the door to my room behind me and slid down against it as my legs gave way. I bawled in my lap as pictures of Sidmund and his pals'' burning bodies flashed through my mind. Indeed, it had been the worst sight I had yet witnessed, and I so wished it would be the very last of its kind.


    I wondered how Hector and Klyn would be feeling right now. I know how deeply Hector felt about Sidmund and his other friends, so he must have been feeling even worse than my thoughts. Klyn, on the other hand, had mostly been expressionless the whole time, so one would think he was indifferent about the whole ordeal.


    But the tight clenching of his fists and jaw never went unnoticed by me as his pals turned to ash.


    Sniffing, I crawled into bed and instantly, I fell into a deep, dark nightmare.


    It was a familiar setting. I found myself looking at a dark palace corridor similar to the one I took walks in, but there was an eerie feeling here.


    It rained outside, and the windows thundered loudly as they clashed against the strong spells of wind. Strange shadows were casted along the palace walls, but despite the constant roaring of thunder, the corridor was in a state of tranquility.


    Then a small child came over the thick red carpet, his face contorted in fear. His heavy breaths mingled with the thunder as he seemingly escaped from something...or someone. Not far behind him, a man matching the Emperor came running with heavy steps, his sword drawn out and aiming wildly in the night.


    "You can''t escape from me, boy!"


    The boy in question, who was barely visible even under the constant flashing from the thunder, made his way through the corridors without a pause, breathing heavily as he did so. The stout man refused to give up despite the little boy being small and mousy, and he followed the boy''s light footsteps till no end.


    The boy turned a corner where flaming torches lit the way, and for a moment, I caught a glimpse of the little boy''s purple hair and tan skin.


    "Dead end," the boy hissed to himself, looking for a way out of the trapped corridor. As a last resort, he went and hid behind a long curtain just in time as the paunchy man turned the corner with his sword out in front of him.


    "Oh, are you playing now?" the man laughed. I struggled to see his face, as it was hidden by a constant shadow. What was this? Was this dream a continuation of the one I had had on my first night at the palace?


    The boy didn''t make a single movement as he still hid behind the heavy curtain.


    Smugly, the man walked heavily over the carpet below his feet, looking both ways, trying to determine where his prey was hidden.


    "Get out, boy~" he sang and then cackled evilly. "You''re going nowhere tonight.  Nowhere but up. Hahaha!" When the boy didn''t show up, still, the man growled, "I''m gonna count to three, you little rascal. If you don''t show yourself by then, you''ll regret it. Do you hear me!?"


    The boy didn''t reply.


    Chuckling, the man started his countdown as he slowly made his way through the long corridor. "1..." He slid a large vase off of a table with hsi sword, and it came crashing down in a shattered heap.


    The boy flinched at the sound, but quickly maintained his composure.


    "2..." The man, with his sword, flicked a large picture frame off of the wall which fell to the floor and dismantled with a crash.


    I watched anxiously as the last digit left the man''s mouth.


    "3!" The man burst out laughing. "You''ve made a big mistake."


    The boy must''ve known his time was coming to an end because he quickly got to unlatching the window behind him. The latch gave a eerie creak as it gave way and the man scoffed as he heard it, turning to the curtained window.


    "Not too smart, are we?" he muttered as he prepared to gouge his sword into the curtain. "Prepare to die."


    Just a split second before the sword''s blade tore through the thickness of the curtain, the boy jumped out of the window. The blade killed no one.


    "You idiot!" the man shrieked as he pulled the curtains aside and looked down the window and into the rain. "This is the third floor!"


    And indeed, it was. The boy had risked his life by jumping out of a third storey window, just to escape a blade. The man looked out, trying to locate the boy, but to no avail. He had either died or had already made his way out.


    "Sh*t!"


    Quickly, he turned around and made his way down stairs, not stopping the chase.


    "Oh, I''ll kill you, you little bastard," the man bellowed as he paused to catch his breath, still having a long way before he could emerge into the gardens and go after the boy. "I''ll kill you even if it means I''ll have to chase you across the world!"


    But even though he claims it, the man knew that he had lost the little boy forever. The boy who had witnessed his greatest sin. The boy who had seen his parents die at his hands.


    "Arghhhh!" the man screamed into the night.


    ˇ­


    I awoke with a start, sweat dripping down my forehead. My breath was heavy as I sat up in bed, trying to organize my scattered thoughts.


    But the only thing running through my mind was my nightmare.


    "What in the name of God was that?" I wheezed as I put a hand over my heart, trying to calm myself down. Was that what I think it was?


    Vividly, the picture of the boy''s face appeared in my mind. He had purple ahir and tan skin so like someone I knewˇ­ But who was it?


    Reynard''s face flashed through my mind.


    "No way," I hissed as I shook it off. There''s no way that was Reynard. Reynard didn''t have purple hair. His hair had always been blackˇ­ But then I remembered when we met this morning.


    He had been wearing a headscarf. But why? It was the first time he had done it, and of course I found it strange. When asked, he had casually shrugged it off as if it was no big deal.


    But then what was that purple patch of hair I saw this morning?

 Chapter 113 - Ye Olde Drink & Stay

    No way.


    There''s no way the little boy in my dreams was little Reynard. After all, he already had parents. There''s no way. Frustrated, I rubbed my face, trying to organize my scattered thoughts.


    But then again, it could just have been a mere dream. Right, just a dream. Sighing, I hauled myself out of bed and checked the sky outside. Dang, it was already turning dark. How long had I slept?


    Hastily, I fixed my hair and washed the dried tears off of my face before going downstairs. Even before I had reached the landing, I knew the house was empty.


    "Mamaˇ­?" I called out, looking around the barely lit room. "Sven?"


    But of course, there was no response to indicate the presence of light other than my own. Where was everybody?


    I checked in Mama''s room, in the kitchen, upstairs and even in the pain reminiscent backyard, but there was no sign of them. I turned to the main door and stared long and hard at the brass knob, thinking about my next move. There was no way I was going to go out looking for them. In this cold dusk, wherever will I go? I don''t even know my way around this strange neighborhood, I''m sure to get lost.


    Groaning, I searched the whole house once more, hoping they would just appear out of thin air, but all my efforts were to no avail.


    "Where are they?" I mumbled worriedly to myself as the light outside started fading away. It was getting darker. One part of my brain was telling me to sit back and relax since both of them were adults and can take care of themselves. But the other part of me was constantly worrying about them, wondering if something nightmarish happened to them. I hated that latter part of me, but I couldn''t control it.


    Biting my lips, I grabbed a shawl from Mama''s room and wrapped it around myself before instinctively heading out in the cold dusk. I knew I was taking a risk, but I can''t just sit at home and kill myself from pondering over them. I needed to initiate action.


    "Mama Ruth!" I called out as I walked on the seemingly never ending pavement. "Sven! Mama!"


    But I only received an echo of my own voice in return. Shivering, I rubbed my palms together to warm them up as I looked around, scared of what might face me.


    "Mama!" I called again, looking behind me just in case someone was creeping up over my shoulder. There was nobody on the street except me. Gulping, I wrapped the shawl tighter around me and continued on walking.


    "Sven!" I coughed. "God, the cold is getting to my throat. Mama Ruth!"


    I was almost in tears by the time I reached the end of the street. Where were they? Why had they left me alone?


    As a tear trickled down my cheek, I turned back to where I had come from and made my way back to the inn. I''m sure I was halfway there when I heard a second pair of footsteps beside mine.


    Startled and frightened, I turned around and there stood a short, old man smiling up at me.


    "Lost, my dear?" he asked in a silky voice, despite his age. "I might help you find your way back."


    "No..." I mumbled as I inched away from him. "I''m not lost, just looking for someone."


    Even in the dark, I saw his face light up.


    "Then I''m the perfect man to aid you," he beamed, pointing a thumb at himself. "I know everyone in this li''l ol'' town. Say, who''re you looking for?"


    "Um..." I looked around, hoping to get away from him. Sighing, I decided to give it a try. "Her name''s Mama Ruth. I can''t find her, unfortunately, and it''s unusual of her to leave unannounced."


    His face had turned sour at the mention of Mama''s name.


    I frowned. "Do you perhaps not know of her?"


    He scoffed. "How can I not? She was my greatest arch rival when her inn was still up and running. It sure did teach her a lesson when I upgraded my pub to a large inn. Took all her customers away." He gave a hearty, belly laugh. "Dang, the woman was a powerhouse in her prime. Too bad someone else got to her first."


    I fidgeted awkwardly with my hands. "Um, I think Mama mentioned you once before. What was your name? Cliff?"


    He nodded. "Cliff Beckett at your service. You seem cold, kid. Want to drink some hot chocolate back at my inn? It''ll be on the house."


    Even the thought of a warm mug of freshly stirred hot chocolate made my mouth water. I adjusted the shawl around my shoulders, looking over my shoulder to see if Mama was hopefully making her way back to the inn, but unfortunately, not another person was in sight.


    "Hot chocolate sounds delightful," I said as I smiled, turning back to the old man.


    He laughed again as he turned around on his heel. "Then follow me, lassie. Make sure to brag about my recipe to the old hag when she returns."


    ?


    Mister Beckett''s inn was quite fancy, indeed.


    As I followed the stout, old man into a towering building, I felt a shudder of excitement. Mister Beckett''s inn was called ''Ye Olde Pub & Stay'', a name I barely understood but still stifled a laugh at.


    "Right on in we go," Mister Beckett said cheerfully as he pushed back a door.


    It was as if a bomb of goodness exploded on my face. Warm air gushed out from the inside,and mingling aromas of different kinds of food tickled me under the nose. It was a feeling so much different to Mama''s inn, and I almost instantly melted.


    Mister Beckett walked inside as if he owned the place (he did, lol) and beckoned me to follow him. Wholesome chatter of customers was everywhere, and I heard snippets as I walked past the tables where people sat, having drinks or having dinner.


    It was such a comfortable atmosphere, the polar opposite of Mama''s place. No wonder her customers changed inns.


    "Sit wherever," Mister Beckett said as he patted my shoulder, looking distracted. "I''ll make sure someone serves you a hot cocoa."


    Nodding obediently, I found myself a seat in the corner and sat down. I took my shawl off since the blazing fireplace kept the room warm enough. Finally settled in, I looked around in awe.


    This place was simply expensive.


    There were two golden chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, below which people sat beside tables equipped with expensive cutlery and hearty looking meals. I gulped as I stared at the food, wishing I could eat something right now.


    The atmosphere in here was similar to a modern five star hotel, and I was dead chuffed at the effort it all must''ve taken, especially considering the fact that these were old times.


    I sat around idly as I waited for my hot chocolate to arrive, and sure enough, a server approached me with a large mug over a silver tray he held.


    "Here you go," he said monotonously and then left the mug on my table.


    Smiling, I stared at the thick brown liquid floating about in the fairly large mug.


    "This looks so good," I mumbled as I blew on it before taking a small sip. My God, what was this warming feeling? It had been so long since I felt this at home. "And it tastes as good as it looks, too!"


    I sure was going to brag about Mister Beckett''s recipe to Mama, just like he had said. Happily swinging my legs, I drank slowly from the mug without a single thought in mind.


    But then my nightmare came flashing back to me.


    At the moment, I hadn''t been able to think straight because I was so frightened and out of breath. But now that I was calm, I could probably wonder about it all.


    Was it really a dream? Or a vision? It was strange, because I''ve never ever had a dream that connected to a past one. So was this pointing at something?


    Was my dream an actual past reality? Or was I being too paranoid about it?


    Gulping down the rest of my hot chocolate, I sighed and leaned back in my chair, enveloped by the deep thoughts circling in my mind.


    "Something on your mind?"


    Startled, I awoke from my trance-like state and looked about me. Was someone talking to me? Indeed, there was. A girl crouched beside me, staring into my eyes as she did so with a questionable look on her face.


    "Something on your mind?" she repeated as she arched her eyebrows. "Hi, my name is Yuriel. I saw you come in with my dad earlier. Are you perhaps a friend?"


    "Oh..." So this was Mister Beckett''s daughter. "No, I was out on the street looking for someone. He thought I was called and brought me in for a warm drink. I''m really thankful for that; I was freezing!"


    She laughed. "That''s my dad for you. He''s a nice guy, but really, he needs to stop giving out freebies to people. He''s too soft on some people, haha. But that''s what attracts so many customers to our inn. How did you like your cocoa?" she asked suddenly, staring at me with her large hazel eyes.


    I smiled awkwardly. "It was great! I''ll be sure to tell Mama all about it when she returns."


    Yuriel frowned. "Mama? As in, Mama Ruth? That old hag who ran Ogden Cove?"


    I nodded, inwardly questioning her tone. "The very one."


    Interested, Yuriel pulled up a chair beside me and sat down, crossing her legs.


    "As far as I know, her lone daughter died long ago? Are you perhaps a niece?"


    I shook my head. "I''mˇ­ a friend of hers. She''s putting up with me for a while."


    "Ohh..." she muttered, twirling a strand of her dark brown hair around her fingers. "What happened to your own abode?"


    I shrugged. "Nothing." She waited for me to emphasize but I remained tight-lipped. She sighed.


    "So, how is she? Mama, I mean." Yuriel leaned in with a smirk. "I heard she''s a real b*tch. Is it true?"


    I scoffed incredulously. "No way! How can you call her that?"


    She leaned back and shrugged as if she didn''t give a damn. "So what if I called her a b*tch? She used to think competing with my dad was a good idea. Imagine the look on her face when I sabotaged her food and made everyone turn their backs on her trashy inn. The business for the health center''s was booming that day. Really, she must''ve known better than to go side by side with my dad."


    My eyes widened in horror. It was as if a volcano had erupted in me. A hot, flaming volcano of immense anger. I stood up and slapped my hand over the table, startling everyone in the room.


    "How dare you?" I hissed at Yuriel. She scoffed. "You''re the real b*tch here, you know that, don''t you? Does your dad know about what you did? Shall I tell everybody here?"


    Gasping, Yuriel stood to her feet. "Don''t you f*cking try it. I''ll kill you, I swear."


    I laughed maniacally. "Sure, sure. I''d like to see you try in public. Imagine what would happen to the inn if the owner''s daughter proceeds to kill a customer."


    Yuriel flushed and clenched her fists menacingly. For a moment, I thought she was going to take a swing at me, but then again, she knew of the consequences.


    "Get out of here," she hissed to me. "Get out and don''t ever show your face here."


    I smiled smugly.. "I''ll be pleased."

 Chapter 114 - Cruel Eye-Opener

    With my shawl wrapped around me, I walked back to the inn.


    As I approached the door, I saw two blurry figures reaching for the door knob just as I did. I looked up, startled, and there stood Mama and Sven.


    I raised my eyebrows, surprised. "There you are! Where were you both?"


    Even in the fog, I saw Mama''s forehead crease in a frown. "You were asleep so we went off by ourselves to show Hector and Klyn to the nearest stables since the border is too far to cross on foot."


    Sven nodded. "But whereabouts are you returning from?"


    I shrugged and headed inside.


    "Right, why were you out, lassie?" Mama asked as she removed her own shawl from her shoulders. "And out when it''s so dark. Really, you should''ve known better. What if you got sick? Or lost? Or God forbid, both?"


    I sighed. "You all disappeared on me. I got scared and went out looking for both of you."


    Mama scoffed. "The sensible person would have stayed put."


    I folded my arms. "But the sensible person in question hasn''t had an experience like this before."


    I knew I was lying. When she was alive, my own mom and sisters back in Korea would disappear as they pleased. But I never got scared, since I never really cared much about them. But I remember how Juwon once got lost and I was in literal tears. That was because I was protective of him. I couldn''t ever imagine a life without him.


    But right now, I realized how much I care about Mama and Sven. Why else would I have gone out searching for them? I could have been indifferent about it, just like I was with my sisters. But recently, I had learned to care about the people around me.


    And my outburst back at Mister Beckett''s innˇ­


    I shook all thoughts away from my mind and turned to Mama, who looked worriedly upon me.


    "Shall we prepare for dinner?" I smiled and headed to the kitchen.


    ?


    [Meanwhile, at the Palace]


    Yvonne headed to the Grand dining room, the folds of her dress clutched in her fingers. Tonight, she wore a pretty brown gown, which was warm enough to get her through the chilly night.


    Stace, who usually accompanied her lady to the dining room, was held back because of some work in the kitchens, since the palace had become short on staff lately.


    Yvonne fixed her red stained lips in a gentle smile as the guards let her in, the bouncing light hitting her eyes from the chandeliers. Even despite the blindingly bright lights, Yvonne maintained her composure and an unwavering smile.


    "Greetings, Your Majesty," she recited robotically as she curtsied.


    The Emperor laughed through a mouthful of food, and though all the mistresses despised it, none of them made a comment.


    "Come, my darling! Sit right next to me," he beamed and gestured to the empty chair beside him on the long, rectangular table.


    Yvonne rose from her curtsy and walked over the carpet to her pre-defined seat, and wondered why someone else hadn''t occupied it before her. Of course, Elora was one of the only mistresses who displayed interest in sitting next to the Emperor. None of the others were so keen on following her example.


    Elegantly, Yvonne slid down in her seat and a guard on duty pushed it in for her. Before she started eating, Yvonne flashed a welcoming smile to each of the other mistresses, since that was taught to her in upbringing.


    Elora, who sat across her, looked away upon receiving a fatal smile from a rival. Yesenia maintained a stony expression. Odette and Lorlei smiled back, though only a wavering simper. Christabel, who sat beside Yvonne, didn''t even look at her, and as expected, Enya was altogether absent from the meal.


    Sighing, Yvonne glanced at tonight''s menu. Salmon canap¨¦s for starters; poached eggs topped with basil and truffle shavings; ham and different assortments of cheese; mushroom soup; a flavorful chicken fricassee; and finally for desert, lemon meringue pie and cream.


    With a clearing of her throat, Yvonne filled her pristine white plate with the food items of her liking and dug in. As soon as she took her first bite, Elora cunningly spoke up.


    "I heard you went out today," she said with a smirk. "I''m sure His Majesty never even got word of it. Did it not cross your mind to inform him of it before taking off?"


    "Is that true?" the Emperor turned to her, surprised and perhaps offended at the same time.


    Yvonne blushed as she hastily tried to gulp down her bite. Everyone stared at her as she chewed, and Yvonne cringed with sudden embarrassment.


    Eventually, she swallowed her food and sighed.


    "Forgive me for not informing you before I ''took off'', Your Majesty" Yvonne chuckled at Elora''s wording of her accusation as she glanced at her, "but I believe this little mistake of mine should be pardoned since it was only the first time I went out of this palace. I''m not used to the rules here, and I never really took King Irvin''s permission before heading out before, so I beg your pardon, Your Majesty, I really do."


    The Emperor stared at her, flustered. "Uh, it''s alright. No need to apologize."


    "No, it was a mistake on my behalf, and I deserve to be punished."


    "I said it''s alright, my dear. Be free of all worries."


    Elora watched bitterly the exchange between her arch-rival to the Empress'' throne and the man she swore to beguile by her cunning schemes. What did the Emperor see in this despicable redhead which was just so enchanting? What was Elora lacking? Why couldn''t she get a hold of him just like Yvonne had?


    Elora was pretty enough, she believed. With her long black hair and her shining ruby eyes, she was every man''s fantasy. Before she had sworn her vows to this rotund man, her life had been filled to the brim with wedding offers and gifts.


    But never once did she fall for all the cannon fodder. Her eyes were only on one man, the top of the hierarchy, the one who had it all: The Emperor.


    Though she never once found him attractive for his physical features, his wealth was all it took for her to say ''I do''.


    She had thought she had it in the bag, but then this wicked redhead came trotting along and ruined everything for her. Every night since, Elora dreamt of the Empress'' throne floating farther and farther away from her reach, and oh what a nauseating nightmare it was each time.


    Right then in the dining room, Elora seethed in her spot.


    "Your Majesty!" she exclaimed, trying to gain his attention. "I have something to say."


    The Emperor turned to her, and for a moment, Elora wondered if she had seen contempt in his eyes. Clearing her throat, she continued.


    "About this tea party you assigned all of us to arrange," she said, pausing dramatically, "are you sure the division of tasks was truly fair?"


    The Emperor frowned. "Whatever do you mean?"


    Elora put down her fork and sat straighter, but not before throwing a sly glance at Yvonne, who did not reciprocate it in any way.


    "I was assigned the selection of dressing theme," she said with a pout, "but this one here,"- she pointed at Yvonne- "she was assigned the task of preparing the guest list, which is a far more important job than mine. Don''t you think it''s unfair to me?"


    Yvonne tried to mask her scoff. All the other ladies rolled their eyes. Indeed, only one thing was on everyone''s mind: ''Here she goes againˇ­''


    "My dear, I divided the tasks how I saw fit," the Emperor replied with an annoyed sigh. "Are you implying my judgement of all of you was fallacious?"


    Elora waved her hands in surrender, flustered. "No, of course not! I''m just saying that I feel down because I wasn''t able to gain your favor, compared to most everyone else."


    There was an echo of incredulous scoffs down the table. Was this woman ever going to stop?


    "Elora, dear, you should really learn to be thankful for even the smallest of mercies," Yesenia sighed. "What if the Emperor decided to omit you from the tasks completely?"


    Elora laughed. "Of course, that would''ve never happened."


    "But it almost did, my dear." The Emperor surprised everyone. "I had to specially make a task up for you to make you a part of this event. Since you are the least talented of my harem, I had to contemplate leaving you out of the activities when the tasks came up less than your numbers."


    Elora gaped. "How am I the least talented?"


    The Emperor shrugged indifferently. "Yesenia here displays a great skill in making people feel welcome and at home through her motherly touch; Lorelei is phenomenal when it comes to art and creativity in thinking; Odette is smart and a great intellectual thinker with a handy foresight; Christabel is great at engaging others in animated conversations; Enya, who is unfortunately absent at the moment, has a lovely voice; and lastly, my dear Yvonne is the beauty of our harem, and an amazing social butterfly. And you..." he turned back to Elora with an unmistakable look of contempt in his eyes. "I''m sorry, my dear, but you''re nothing special."


    Elora gasped. Yvonne''s eyes widened. Lorelei, Odette and Yesenia''s mouths dropped open in shocked pleasure and Christabel, though she remained silent, put her hand over her mouth.


    "Nothing...specialˇ­?" Elora muttered. "Meˇ­?"


    The Emperor nodded and wiped his mouth with a handkerchief.


    "Step off your high pedestal, my dear, and maybe you''ll find people who might like you," he said coldly. "You are all one in this harem. There is no high or low, so don''t pretend to be Queen when you''re the lowest on my priority list, love."


    With those harsh words, he left the dining room. Everyone sat back in their seats, trying to make sense of what had just happened. All of a sudden, Elora scraped back her chair and ran out of the room in tears. At that moment, everybody had not a single grain of sympathy for her in their hearts.


    "Serves her right," someone whispered.

 Chapter 115 - By The Moons Grace

    "Your Majesty?"


    Yvonne knocked on the glass door as she peeked out at the moonlit balcony, where the Emperor''s unmistakable figure stood, arms over the white banisters. Upon hearing the chirp of his lovely mistress, he turned around, his face glowing under the moon''s grace.


    Even then, Yvonne didn''t find him any more attractive, judging by all the sins he had committed and kept secretive all this time.


    "Are you alright, Your Majesty?" she asked gently as she stepped out on the balcony, blinking under the dim glow. What was she even doing here? After that outburst in the dining room, Yvonne wondered if she should go check up on His Majesty. Not because she cared about him or his feelings, of course. She went up to his chambers because he was in a vulnerable position right now, and she wanted to test if he was defenseless enough to reveal some of his veiled past.


    "I''m fine," the Emperor groaned and put a hand over his eyes and rubbed. "Admittedly, a bit upset about Elora. Usually, she''s an absolute dear. I can''t seem to understand why she acted like such a spoiled child today. Perhaps, may I have pampered her too much without even realizing?"


    Yvonne sighed and joined the Emperor next to the banister, gazing out at the wide garden that stretched before their eyes. Heavenly fragrance of flowers and exotic plants enveloped them as the two stood alone under the night''s light.


    "Perhaps," Yvonne mumbled as she leaned her head on the Emperor''s shoulder, "she''s insecure."


    The Emperor jerked. "Why do you think so?"


    Yvonne breathed and watched the air before her turn into mist. The Emperor watched her trying to touch the vapor and smile fondly at his silly girl.


    "I believe Elora''s lived her whole life trying to achieve the title of Empress under the constant pressure of her family," Yvonne said quietly. "She''s been sculpted into her own version of the perfect Empress time and time again, that she has almost mixed her true identity with this Empress in question. I have to say, it was a bit harsh of you to bring her down like that, though."


    The Emperor groaned and rubbed his face again. "What was I to do? Let her live amongst those wild, baseless delusions? It was either that or supporting her daft mindset."


    Yvonne linked her arm through the Emperor''s. "But still, you were too hard on her."


    The Emperor smiled sadly and put a warm hand over his mistress'' arm. Yvonne tried to hide the goosebumps she got from that one touch, but then her plan would be behind bars.


    "Your Majesty," Yvonne gulped, gathering her courage, "are you grieved by the Princess''s death?"


    Noticeably, the Emperor stiffened.


    "Of course I am," he replied without any genuine feeling, almost like he was reading off of a pre-written script. "She was my daughter. "


    "Indeed, she was." Yvonne nodded, despite knowing the actual truth. "May I ask, if it won''t offend you, about the Princess''s past?"


    Yvonne could feel the tension in the air. She knew the Emperor was contemplating denying her request, but if he did...what would that imply?


    The Emperor probably reached the same conclusion, because he eventually sighed and tightened his grip on his mistress''s hand.


    "Talking about the princess- my daughter, I mean- is a bit of a sensitive topic for me to talk about at the moment, my love," he said as his eyes searched the vast gardens below.


    "But I''d really, really, really like to know!" Yvonne pouted, looking dearly into her husband''s eyes. Under her fatal charm, the Emperor faltered and his resolve wavered.


    "Fine, my love," he muttered inexplicably. "Ask away as you please."


    Yvonne smiled, sensing her success. "Alright, then. What was Her Highness''s birthday?"


    It appeared as if this was a difficult question for someone who pretended to be the princess''s father. He was truly stumped as he rubbed his chin, pretending to think about it.


    "Hmmˇ­ I believe it was near the end of Taerelˇ­?"


    She smiled. "No, it''s the 31st of Zula. She was born on New Year''s Eve."


    The Emperor nodded as if he had known all along. "I see. I must''ve gotten it all muddled up."


    Yvonne chuckled inwardly. Of course he wouldn''t have known. Why would he keep track of such dates, when he had looked after the child of his much loathed twin brother. That''s right. The Emperor was a twin, and the alikeness between him and his demised brother was uncanny.


    Yvonne looked thoughtfully into her deceiving husband''s eyes and wondered how this man could be so spiteful, so evil yet so, so calm about killing his brother and his family. As if he had done nothing wrong.


    He had killed someone he had grown up with for his whole life for a measly throne. A throne! How could one be so materialistic?


    Yvonne shuddered at the thought.


    "Are you cold?" the Emperor asked suddenly.


    Yvonne shook her head. "Not at all. Your Majesty, may I ask another question?"


    He nodded, though he seemed uncertain.


    "It''s unrelated to the princess," she whispered, staring coldly into the Emperor''s eyes, "but how did your brother die?"


    "W-What?" The Emperor stepped back under the intensity of Yvonne''s gaze.


    Yvonne smiled and leaned back, letting the Emperor breathe. When he was finally stable again, she persisted.


    "How did your brother die? I''m sure the others know already, but since I''m new, I often find myself wondering about it."


    The Emperor was shocked. He blinked rapidly, thinking about how to answer her question. Yvonne smiled, wondering what he would come up with.


    "M-My brother, Barion," the Emperor began, "died the very day his wife- I mean, my wife- was assassinated. It was a sorrowful ordeal, and the whole Empire remained in mourning for more than a few months. She was a lovely woman, Irabella. Oftentimes than not, I spend many sleepless nights thinking about her."


    Yvonne clutched her husband''s arm tightly, wondering how his sudden slip of tongue gave it all away. If a na?ve woman had been in her stead, she would have dismissed the seemingly misspoken words as a mere slip of tongue. But Yvonne knew better, and she understood very well how easy it was to mix all the facts up.


    "Barion died on an overseas trip to Clatoise, hence our sour relations," he muttered, his eyes staring into the night sky. "For years, they tried to convince me that Barion had, in fact, not been assassinated in their vicinity, but to no avail. I knew what I knew. My poor brother and my poor wife..." he muttered and shaded his eyes with the shelter of his hand, pretending to spare some tears over their sad deaths.


    Yvonne almost scoffed at his acting. What a sore loser, she thought bitterly.


    "It''s alright, my love," she sighed and cupped his face with her hands, inwardly puking at her seemingly loving gestures. "Lest you forget, you still have me. I''ll always be by your side."


    The Emperor smiled fondly at her and suddenly hugged her. Yvonne froze and let her arms fall awkwardly to her sides, not knowing what to do with them. The Emperor stank of sweat and alcohol. Yvonne hadn''t seen him consume any liquor at the dining table; had he some stashed in his chambers?


    Eventually, the Emperor released Yvonne from her torture and stood her back to arm''s length, gazing dreamily into her ice blue eyes.


    "You really are my one comfort, dear," he muttered before reaching in to kiss her.


    It was the most traumatizing experience Yvonne had ever had.


    She had no choice but to go along with the abrupt kiss, since taking the initiative to break free from it would mean that Yvonne was indicating some sort of dislike towards the Emperor. As she loathingly kissed him back, she hoped to any and all Gods up there to not let him take her to bed. That would be the last straw for her.


    Awkwardly for her, The Emperor grabbed Yvonne by the hair and pulled her in by the waist while smothering her. Yvonne controlled the urge not to gag, and wondered why he tasted like absolute filth. How long since he last cleaned his mouth?


    The whole ordeal lasted for a good while, and those few minutes which seemed like hours would be embedded in the deepest, darkest corners of her mind.


    "I love you, my dear," he exclaimed passionately as he finally let go of his mistress. "I love you so very much."


    "Thank you, Your Majesty." Yvonne knew it was her cue to say ''I love you'' back to him, but he just could not bring herself to. Her tongue stopped working even if she tried to. "But I bet you say that to all of the others as well."


    "Fear not, darling," the Emperor laughed heartily. "For these whispers of love are reserved for you and you only."


    Yvonne laughed back. Oh, how the bear had tangled in her trap.


    "I wish making you my Empress was easy," he muttered as he leaned against her, sighing. "If it was, I would''ve made it official with a tap of my finger. But I''m afraid I have the others to consider. Thank you, my love, for your words of comfort tonight. I wish I had the freedom to spend nights with you similar to these every single day."


    Please, Yvonne thought, I wish you never get that freedom, or else you''ll make my life hell for me. I''m uncomfortable enough as is.


    "Good night, then, Your Majesty," Yvonne coo''ed as she squeezed his arms. "I''ll see you in the morning."


    The Emperor kissed her on the forehead. "I''ll wait days and days again for you, my love.. See you tomorrow."

 Chapter 116 - Who Was He?

    Yvonne fled to her chambers in a state of utter disgust.


    "That wretched bastard," she hissed as she furtively wiped her mouth. "He kissed me! Me! I shouldn''t have approached him, I really shouldn''t have."


    She babbled on as she ran through the lit corridors, her face crumpled up with unmistakable abhorrence.


    In truth, this had been her first kiss. It made her wonder why King Irvin even married her if not for lustful desires. She hadn''t always been this pretty. Before her sudden marriage to King Irvin, she had been a student at a public academy which she paid for herself by working away at a local tea shop. The King had made it his own duty to visit all academies in person as a part of some campaign he had come up with, to increase the standard of public academies.


    It was then that she had met him for the first time, and the King had sensed some sort of cleverness and intellectuality in Yvonne, which far surpassed her peers.


    Without any prior notice, she suddenly found herself as a part of the King''s court, where she attended meetings with other scholars and discussed plans to flourish the kingdom of Clatoise.


    Of course, despite her unwillingness to carry on, her parents had been overjoyed.


    "My girl, what a marvelous fortune you have struck!" her mother told her one day as she caressed her with her gentle fingers. "It is indeed the best thing that has ever happened to us! Oh, what joy! Cheers!"


    With this expression of joviality, Yvonne felt unable to reveal her own true feelings about the matter, for it mattered to her parents the most.


    Back at the palace, she often found herself indulging in reading from the wide selection of books in the vast Royal library, which had become more popular after Yvonne started her regular visits to it.


    Each night, she would bring back a stack of knowledge to her chambers and read all night, till her candle wick drowned in the wax, or her eyelids gave way. Before she knew it, the palace had become her second home. She was more comfortable than she had ever been.


    But then came the sudden proposal.


    It was a lovely morning, and the flowers were in full bloom. Yvonne had been called to the King''s office for some reason best known to himself. She had thought it was because he needed her to review some stacked letters or write a report on some matters about the kingdom, like it typically was. But it seemed that King Irvin had other plans in mind.


    At 20 years of age, Yvonne received her first marriage proposal from none other than the King of the kingdom she had grown up in. It must sound like a romantic love story to some, but Yvonne, on the other hand, didn''t think so. She was confused, if not anything else.


    Since the king had never shown any sort of romantic interest in her before, nor ever gave any indication to such, she was a mess. His proposal had been short and blunt.


    "Marry me," he had said seriously.


    Yvonne didn''t reply for a good moment. But then a priest appeared out of nowhere and the vows were exchanged before the marriage was sealed. All without Yvonne''s understanding.


    "We''re married now," the king replied afterwards, smiling.


    "What?" Yvonne whispered, looking up, shocked.


    "I''ve taken you as my mistress. You may go now."


    Just like that, she had been kicked out of the king''s office and she walked away, dazed. What had even happened? She wondered even now as she entered her chambers and fell over her bed, the tingling feeling never leaving her lips.


    "The bastard kissed me..." she muttered and then turned around, lying lifelessly on her stomach. "I wish I could go back to Clatoise."


    Even thinking about it made all the memories of her past flood back. Her time as King Irvin''s mistress had been the best ever. For some reason, even after the marriage, the King never once showed romantic interest in her. He always kept her by his side as an advisor or solely to receive much needed words of comfort at times of hardship. She had had the freedom of a dove. She had no restrictions and nobody ever insulted her for being a mere mistress and not the queen. But then again, most people knew that Yvonne was not interested in becoming queen.


    As Yvonne lay on her bed thinking about the past, she felt a rush of homesickness and she doubled up, wincing. The only reason she had even come to this empire was because the king she held so so close to her heart had so dearly requested her to ensure that Princess Cynthia Amaryll de Klaern survived. That had been his only wish.


    Slowly, as she worried over the events of tomorrow, Yvonne felt herself drowse off into a deep sleep.


    ?


    [At the Gradral Household]


    Reynard sat cross-legged on his bed, apparently immersed in his own bubble of thoughts.


    "What''s going on?" Rosa asked as she emerged from Reynard''s bathroom, her hair wet and dripping water over the floor. For some reason, the showerhead in Rosa''s room had stopped working, so she had decided to barge in uninvited to her brother''s bathroom for a quick shower.


    "Have you ever gotten this feeling," Reynard muttered as he studied his toe nails, "when you start thinking if your whole existence is a lie itself?"


    Rosa scoffed as she walked across him, flicking the towel at his face.


    "Shut up," she scoffed, at which Reynard laughed. "Tons of people get adopted all over the world. It''s not a big deal."


    Reynard rolled his eyes. "Of course, not to you. But I''ve just realized that my whole life has been a lie! I thought I came out of my mother, you know?"


    Rosa massaged her nose bridge, her eyes closed. An important sign of frustration.


    "Of course, boy, of course you did," she muttered bitterly.


    Reynard smiled, becoming sad again. "I wonder who my real parents are. What if they''re still alive? Hey, Rosa, can you tell me about the day you all found me? I''d love to know."


    Rosa pursed her lips as she looked gravely at her brother. Reynard looked hopefully back at her, and eventually she gave in, sighing.


    "Fine," she muttered as she sat across from him on his bed. "Listen closely, since this is the only time I''m going to tell you about this. Are you ready?"


    Reynard nodded eagerly. "As ready as I''ll ever be."


    Rosa started with the clearing of her throat:


    "It had been a stormy night. Heavy rain poured down over the Eyress streets like never before. That night..." Rosa paused, trying to remember the vivid memory. "That night, I had a feeling something big was going to happen. I was restless even as we ate dinner, and mother and father scolded me for it a couple times. I was only 14 then. That''s when we heard a squealing of horses outside and father ran out to check."


    "What happened then?" Reynard whispered, mesmerized.


    "It seemed as if a little boy had been hit by a carriage. It was you, of course. You were unconscious, but not hurt, and father never blamed the poor carriage driver since it was so dark that night and anyone could''ve made that mistake. Anyways, he brought you inside for the meantime."


    "Father brought a random kid off the street into his house?" Reynard interrupted. "Did he not think I could''ve been someone else''s child?"


    Rosa nodded. "He did, of course he did. But you were unconscious, and he was worried if it was serious, so he didn''t waste a moment out in the rain. You were brought in immediately and a physician was called for at once. The physician said you had some blunt injuries because of a high fall, probably, or maybe because of the carriage accident. I remember thinking how strange you looked, then. Purple hair and expensive clothing was not a common sight on the streets of Eyress. Father took all responsibility for you and paid the physician a handsome amount for the check up and complementary medicines. You awoke the next morning in a state of panic."


    "I did?"


    Rosa nodded. "You started crying first thing in the morning. Mother and Father burst into the room you had slept in and had tried to diffuse your worry, but you had tried to fend them off with those little 6 year old fingers of yours. Once you had finally calmed down, you actually spoke to our parents about the matters of last night."


    "What did I say?" Reynard asked, leaning in.


    "That," Rosa muttered as she averted her gaze, "I cannot say. At least not yet."


    "What!?" Reynard jumped. "Why not?"


    "I''ll tell you everything when the time comes, Reyn," she whispered, reaching forward and squeezing his wrist. "But I cannot say now. My swore to our parents. I''ll open up about everything when the time is right."


    Reynard scoffed furiously, flopping back down on his bed. Was she serious? How could she not let him know of the most significant of details? It frustrated him to no end, since he had been losing sleep over the matter every night since he had found out about his adoption.


    Who was he, really? Why had he been randomly running on the streets that night? He couldn''t have been that dumb, he thought.. No child, no matter how foolish, would''ve gone out on a cold stormy night. So what had been on his mind?

 Chapter 117 - Waking The Dead

    The next morning, after a night of tossing and turning in bed, Reynard headed out to ''The Longing Table''. It was a nice morning after many cold ones, and for once, it was warm.


    "But won''t you have any breakfast before taking off?" Rosa had asked before he left, worried.


    Reynard shook his head as he slipped on his sweater. "I haven''t the appetite right now. I''ll come join you once I check up on Uncle Franke."


    Rosa pursed her lips as he put on his boots.


    "Make sure he''s okay, alright?" she muttered. "He has a weak heart, after all."


    Reynard smiled as he stood up. "Sure. See ya'', then."


    The walk to the inn seemed to take a short time today. Was it because he enjoyed the weather so much? He watched people set up their stalls the whole way as the mourning gradually came to an end, and people started to realize that going out of business for a while was a burden already.


    Reynard pushed the door to the inn and stepped right in. But what was this? Where was everyone? He looked around, confused at the dimly lit pub and the absence of the typical drinkers. No glasses of beers were being poured, no glasses were tinkling and there was no chatter or laughter wafting around.


    For the first time in many years, Reynard saw how sad this place looked without the bright people to occupy it.


    Going back to the door, Reynard pulled it open and checked the scribbled piece of parchment that was stuck clumsily to the outside, saying ''CLOSED'' in big, careless brush strokes. Reynard had somehow failed to notice the unmistakable sign the first time, and wondered what was wrong. It was the first time his uncle had done something like this on purpose.


    Clenching his jaw, Reynard burst through the other door and entered the lounge. Again, nothing met him but silence. Where were all the cooks? The people enjoying their morning meals? Where was his uncle who usually sat at his table eating the special meals by Marion?


    Reynard looked around at the bleak state of the place and wondered how it had been in business in the first place. It was true his uncle was short on cash to renovate the inn, but to think that it was in such desperate need of rebuilding stoke Reynard. Was it just the people inside that made the inn so warm and cozy?


    Taking a deep breath, Reynard took 3 steps at a time as he ran up the fleet of stairs. He headed straight to his uncle''s room past all the closed doors as soon as he stepped on the landing and found out that it was locked.


    "Uncle! Uncle Franke!" he yelled and bammed his fist into the door. "Uncle Franke, open the door! It''s me, Reynard."


    There was no response.


    Reynard bammed his fist loudly on the door again and the thud of it echoed through the deserted corridor. It was still early in the morning, and the people staying at the inn were either all still probably asleep or out to get breakfast from elsewhere. Reynard worried that he''ll wake the others up.


    "Uncle Franke!"


    No reply, still, but Reynard heard a bit of shuffling inside and he knew that his uncle was awake. He tried one last time.


    "It''s Reynard," he said gently this time. "Can you please open the door?"


    There was a moment of silence before the door clicked open and someone that seemed like a skeleton appeared in the doorway.


    "By God, what happened?" Reynard muttered at Uncle Franke. He seemed sick, to say the least. His eye bags were as huge as they could get, and his eyes were bloodshot with apparent crying. His cheeks were sunk in and stained with tears as well as embedded with pillow imprints. He stood meekly in the dark room behind him, holding a crumpled pillow to his stomach.


    "Have you eaten?" Reynard asked, his eyes wide with worry.


    His Uncle looked at the floor but didn''t reply.


    "Have you eaten?" Reynard repeated. "I''m talking to you, Uncle Franke."


    This time he shook his head in response. Reynard sighed.


    "And why did you close up for the day?" Reynard frowned as he led his uncle back to his room, and turned the lanterns on and parted the curtains over the window.


    When the room was finally flooded with light, Reynard was shocked at the state of it. Clothes were thrown on the floor in careless piles. Cups (of tea, perhaps?) were hidden badly under the bed. The bed sheets were wrinkled and stained with tears and spots of tea, at which Reynard sighed and turned to his uncle who seemed smaller than he had ever seemed.


    "What is wrong with you!?" he cried in his face. "One death and you forget how to live? He was our father, you know? Even so, we aren''t as bad as you. You''ve just decided to let it all go! What would father think if he was alive?"


    The whole time Reynard talked to him, Uncle Franke''s face was expressionless. He looked at Reynard as if he was an unrecognizable face, and then all of a sudden, tears started flowing down his cheeks and he buckled up.


    "I''m so sorry," he cried, his voice breaking at various instances. "I''m so sorry! I''m so sorry! I''m so sorry! I''m so sorry! I''m so sorry! I''m so sorry! I''m so sorry! I''m so sorry! I''m so sorry! I''m so sorry..."


    The whole time he cried in a heap, he had Reynard''s finger clenched in his palm. He looked down at his uncle with a painful look in his eyes, watching him cry his eyes out and apologize time and time again. Indeed, it was a most heartbreaking sight.


    "Get up," Reynard muttered and held the hand his uncle clenched his with. He pulled and Uncle Franke stood upright in a second, not because he wanted to, but because his godson was much too strong.


    "I''m sorry," he said again and Reynard rounded the old man up in a hug, keeping back his own tears.


    "You have nothing to apologize for," he muttered as he tightened his grasp, wondering why he''d never hugged his uncle like this before. "Shall we head downstairs and arrange ourselves a meal?"


    A minute later, Uncle Franke sniffed and pulled out of the hug.


    "Alright," he said, wiping his face with his sleeve. "I''ll be out in a minute. You head down."


    Reynard nodded and smiled reassuringly. Uncle Franke reciprocated the smile and both of them chuckled. Reynard left him alone in his room to freshen up and skipped downstairs by himself, trying not to think about the bleakness of the inn. He parted the curtains over every window and let some light shine through. The lounge looked much more welcoming this way.


    "Well, it''s a start," he grunted, satisfied.


    He heard a distant tapping of feet behind him and he turned around just in time to see his uncle dressed decently for once. He donned an unironed, but neat grey tunic over his brown pants. He had made an effort to look better in front of his godson, and Reynard realized that by his rare, swept-back hair.


    "You''ve cleaned up nicely," Reynard muttered as he fist-bumped his uncle. "Let''s see if there''s something in the kitchen."


    Both of them headed to the kitchens which too were dark and gloomy, but after Reynard let some sunlight radiate through, everything seemed normal and warmer once again. In the cabinets, Reynard discovered a jar of beans and a packed up loaf of bread which seemed fine to eat.


    "You go and take a seat," Reynard muttered as he pulled on an apron from the stack under the shelves. "I''ll fix us some beans on toast. Okay with that?"


    Uncle Franke nodded as he dreamingly gazed around the kitchen.


    "It looks so weird when there''s no one here to cook," he muttered, dazed. "The usual bustle of cooks and the friendly chat between my customers is the only thing that gives me the will to carry on. I''ll go get some papers arranged on my desk. See you out." Woot hat, he left Reynard alone in the kitchen to do his work.


    Reynard threw the dry beans in a pot of water and let them get soft and chewy before draining the remaining water out. He toasted the bread and seasoned the beans before spreading them neatly over four slices of neatly portioned bread.


    To add on with the breakfast, he got some oranges out of the basket behind the back door where they were usually stocked and made some fresh orange juice.


    At the end of the day, he was proud of his work.


    With great difficulty, Reynard carried the decorated tray of food out in the lounge where his uncle sat on his desk, studying over his spectacles a piece of parchment. As Reynard approached, he put the paper under his desk and smiled at his godson''s effort.


    "Never knew my boy could cook," he mumbled as he glanced at the warm breakfast. "This looks good. Oh! And orange juice? Did you squeeze it right now?"


    Reynard nodded proudly and put the plates on the table before putting the tray aside and bringing himself a seat.


    "Mother taught me to do a tad bit of housework before she fell sick," he said with a sad smile as he picked up his toast. "She would get really angry when I would argue, saying that housework is only a woman''s duty. "


    "Isn''t it?" Uncle Franke asked as he took a sip of his juice. "Too much sugar."


    Reynard shook his head, ignoring the sugar part. "Not really. Once I started actually doing the chores, I realized how hard it all was and then it led to the question that wasn''t heavy work actually for men? That day, a new admiration for hardworking women arose in me."


    Uncle Franke laughed. "That''s great. You really don''t know how hard they work once you start at it by yourself."


    Reynard smiled. "Well. Shall we start letting customers in, then?"


    Uncle Franke frowned. "Who''ll run the kitchens?"


    Reynard grinned mischievously and that''s when Uncle Franke realized what it meant.


    "We''ll work the kitchens by ourselves."

 Chapter 118 - Gent In Distress

    "You''re kidding."


    Reynard kept a straight face. "I''m not. Really. I think we''ll do a grand job working the kitchens by ourselves. After all, you don''t want to lose work, do you?"


    Uncle Frank gaped at him.


    "Are you crazy?" he cried. "I''ve never cooked a single grain of rice in my life! We''ll lose more customers than we''ll get if I even touch the stoves."


    "You might not have cooked in your life," Reynard smiled cockily, putting his elbow on the table, "but I have."


    Uncle Franke sat back, horrified. "So are you implying you''ll cook for all the fifty or so customers all by yourself?"


    Reynard smiled. "As long as we have all the ingredients, I think I very well can."


    "You''re serious about this."


    "I am."


    "Are you, honestly?"


    "Yes."


    "Can you really cook?"


    "I can."


    Uncle Franke raised an uncertain eyebrow. "May I take your word for it, then?"


    Reynard nodded, standing to his feet. "You may. Shall I get started?"


    His uncle groaned and stuffed the rest of his toast down his throat.


    "Alright," he mumbled with his mouth filled. "Meanwhile, I''ll go wake the others. It usually takes them half an hour to gather for breakfast, so I''ll be counting on you, okay?"


    Reynard saluted. "Absolutely, sir."


    Uncle Franke laughed as he slid out of his chair. "Alright, alright. Get lost, you."


    Reynard felt relieved to see his uncle revert back to normal. A few moments ago, he had been deprived of all joy. Now he stood radiating hopefulness as he went to the stairs and pulled the rope that hung from a whole in the ceiling, which, upon pulling, rang a bell overhead to wake everyone up in time for breakfast.


    Hastily, Reynard shuffled off to the kitchens. He tightened his head scarf and redonned his apron before turning to the overhead cabinets.


    "Alright," he muttered, stretching his fingers. "Shall we start scavenging?"


    After his swift hunt for ingredients, Reynard was able to uncover some of the following items: a ripped up packet of flour, sugar pots, eggs, oil, honey, bottles of brown, slime-like liquid which he was not keen to investigate further, jars filled with yet more beans and spices, something that looked like sand, tomatoes, onions, potatoes, a basket full of oranges and couple expired pastries hidden under a table.


    Reynard sniffed all the things one by one to make sure if any of them were beyond use, and indeed the slime-like liquid did not pass the test. It smelled like puke and Reynard did not want to know what it was even doing in the kitchen.


    Anyways, the rest of the ingredients were good to use for the meal. After thinking about a good course of action, Reynard got to work. So what if he needed to cater for 50 people? He knew what he needed to do.


    People usually eat savory main courses before dessert afterwards. But what if Reynard turned the dessert into the actual main course? Then there would be no need to cook more than necessary and everyone will leave with their stomachs full. In his book, it''s was easy as that.


    Showing an immense level of efficiency, Reynard mixed the correct ratios of oil, flour, sugar and eggs in a bowl and prepared a sweet batter. He then turned the flame under the aga and let the stove heat up for a while before putting on a flat frying pan. Putting two large spoons of batter each time on the pan, Reynard soon prepared a sufficient amount of fluffy pancakes in no time. He was, in no way, a good cook, but his limited skills were enough to prepare edible food for hungry people.


    Reynard took the stacks of white plates out of the cupboards and put them in neat rows over the longest counter before putting 2 warm pancakes over each one. He then took the honey and drizzled it lightly over the plates, giving the food an elegant look.


    To say the least, Reynard was proud of his hard work. With the time he had left, Reynard prepared jugs full of fresh orange juice to go along with the pancakes, creating a perfect combo this way which was suited for both adults and children.


    Soon enough, Uncle Franke burst through the kitchen door with a hopeless expression on his face. But then his face lit up as he caught sight of the rows and rows of pancake topped plates.


    "It smells like rich goodness in here," he whispered, his eyes wide in incredulous surprise. "Did you make this all by yourself?"


    Reynard wiped his hands over the apron, looking distracted as he stared at his creations. "Um, yeahˇ­ Though these may not be as good as what Marion and the others make, I did my best with the ingredients present. I hope it''s up to your expectations, Uncle Franke."


    "My boy, you''ve worked wonders!" Uncle Franke came up to him and kissed him without notice on the forehead. "I can''t believe it! You''re like a hero ready to save the day."


    Reynard laughed. "Thank you. But isn''t it much later than 30 minutes?"


    Uncle Franke nodded as he looked inside the jug of orange juice. "Well, I stalled you some time by making drinks for everyone. But they''re all seated at the tables now."


    "I''m worried they won''t like it," Reynard muttered, taking off his apron and hanging it behind the door. "They''re used to eating savory as the main course."


    Uncle Franke waved a dismissive hand. "It''s fine, everything looks great. Help me carry the plates outside."


    Uncle Franke balanced four plates over his arms (two on each) and carried them outside for the hungry customers. Reynard too followed his lead but managed to balance six. In and out, in and out they went, carrying more and more plates each time, until finally, everyone was served.


    "I hope it tastes good," Reynard muttered worriedly as everyone dug into their pancakes.


    "Aw, shucks." Uncle Franke reassured him with a friendly nudge. "If anybody doesn''t like it, then they''ll have to go hungry, won''t they?"


    Reynard bit his lips. "I don''t know. Let''s wait till they try it."


    Reynard watched uncertainly as people but fork fulls of sweet, honey topped pancakes into their mouths. That''s when all the chatter started. Indeed, there were mixed reactions.


    "...Is this a sort of cakeˇ­?"


    "...Momma, it tastes like eggs..."


    "...It''s so light and fluffy!..."


    "...Is this a new menu item...?"


    "...It''s so oily..."


    "...I love it!..."


    There were a lot of mixed reactions from the crowd. Reynard waited by the kitchen door as plates were wiped clean and drinks were poured down throats.


    "I think the majority likes it," Uncle Franke whispered beside him. "Most of them are smiling."


    Reynard nodded proudly. "I think so, too." He was swelling with happiness as customers came up to the inn owner, displaying their interest towards today''s mystery meal.


    "...I must ask you for the recipe!..."


    "...What a new idea for a cake. Was it friedˇ­?"


    "...I loved the sweet delight..."


    "...May we have it for lunch againˇ­?"


    "...I''d love to get seconds!..."


    Reynard''s self-esteem grew with every compliment.


    "Thanks, my son," Uncle Franke whispered when everyone either returned to their rooms or headed out for work. "You saved the day. I owe you one."


    Reynard smiled. "No need. It was a task to help me forget and move on, and dare I say, I thoroughly enjoyed it. Think of it as a win-win."


    Uncle Franke stroked his white beard and looked thoughtfully at his grandson through his fogged spectacles. "Your father would have been proud, because I know I am."


    "Thank you. Thanks so much." Reynard was the happiest he had ever been in days. The response he received for his hard work was indeed the reward for all his efforts, and he was gratuitous to God for that.


    "No," his uncle chuckled. "Thank you! I don''t know what I would''ve done without you."


    Reynard laughed. "Shall I take my leave, then? Or do you want me around for a bit longer?"


    Uncle Franke patted Reynard on the shoulder. "You''ve done enough for today, son. Go take a rest or go shopping with your sister. She must be missing her brother."


    Reynard grinned, his eyes turning into happy crescents. "Alright then. See you later, uncle." With that, the orphan boy walked away.


    Late morning had arrived, and the day had gotten much warmer. People had set up stalls on each side of the main street and it seemed as if the weekly Market Day had resumed its place. It felt so nice to see everything revert back to normal again, and for a moment, Reynard almost let go of all his worries. The deaths of his parents, finding out about his adoption and knowing that he was a national criminal seemed like petty matters as he walked through the lively street, taking in the aromas of all the lovely food.


    But Reynard couldn''t let go of the distant turmoil that brewed at the back of his mind, a feeling that something bad was coming soon. It was equivalent to the calm before a violent storm, and he was yet to realize the intensity of that storm.


    Not any mere storm. The Tempest.


    But void of any agitation, Reynard bought fresh bread and a whole chicken before returning home, where yet another nodus awaited.


    Reynard heard unmistakable, pain-filled sobbing as he stepped through the threshold.


    "Rosa?" he called worriedly as he ran through the house, looking for his sister. There, she sat on the floor of the living room, curled into herself.


    Reynard''s eyes widened in a state of shock, and for a moment he stood rooted strictly to his spot.


    "W-what happened?" he asked as he recovered, bending down to inspect her for injuries.


    "I-I-I!" Rosa gasped, cowering in pain, her toes curling into themselves. "My stomach! It hurts so bad. I feel like I''m dying, Reynard. I can''t take it! I-I-I can''t..." She wailed as she wriggled on the floor.


    Reynard''s breath quickened with worry. "Your stomach hurts? Did you eat something bad?"


    "No!" she hissed.


    "Uh...uh..." he muttered. "Shall I call a doctor?"


    "Hurry-y-y-y!" she howled. "I can''t take it, Reyn, I can''t take the pain! I don''t know what''s happening to me!"


    Reynard gulped. "I''ll bring someone, okay?" he muttered distractedly, sweating profusely in distress as his sister cried her eyes out. "Don''t worry. I''ll bring someone. I''ll bring someone to help you."


    Quickly, he dashed out of the house and onto the street, looking for the nearest health centre. In a state of extreme tension, he jumbled up the directions and had to start all over again till he came to Gartran Health Centre and wasted no time in heading inside.


    "Doctor!" he yelled. "I need a doctor!"


    "Calm down, sir," the old receptionist muttered as he wrote something down on his register. "You need to wait like everyone else here." He gestured to the waiting areas where patients sat around, waiting for their turn.


    "You don''t understand," he cried. "My sister''s stomach is hurting like hell, and she needs a doctor now! Right now!"


    The receptionist, though, was not moved. "Mm, and where is the patent?"


    "A-At home. Look, can I get a doc-"


    The receptionist slapped shut his register with a slam and looked Reynard dead in the eye. "You''ll have to bring her along to get her registered, sir, or else we can''t help you."


    Reynard bit his lips in worry. What was he to do? Oh God, what???


    Then, as if an angel had ascended down from the heavens, a man amongst the waiting patients stood up upon noticing the great distress Reynard was in and initiated conversation.


    "Hi," he said kindly. "I''m a doctor in training and I''ll be happy to come along if you''d like. My turn is a couple hours later anyways, so I might as well help a fellow out."


    "Will you? Will you really do that for me?" Reynard gulped.


    The man, who seemed to be around Reynard''s age, smiled. "Of course.. Just lead the way."

 Chapter 119 - Food Solves Everything

    With every step that Reynard took to reach back home, he felt an increasing discomfort. He didn''t even want to consider the possibility, but what if Rosa too followed in their parents'' footsteps?


    "Right here," Reynard muttered as he slowed down, reaching the door to their house.


    The young man in tow behind him was called Armand Schneider and he was a man blessed with fair hair and life saving skills.


    None of them wasted a moment dwindling outside and headed straight to the patient. Reynard prayed the whole way that Rosa was fine, but it seemed that her condition had gotten worse, judging by the state of her lifeless body that lay on the floor.


    "She''s unconscious," Armand said as he crouched down and checked Rosa''s pulse. "And she''s burning, too. Will you help me carry her to the bed?"


    Reynard nodded and took Rosa in his arms and laid her gently on the bed. She winced even in her sleep and Reynard flinched, knowing that his sister was still probably very vulnerable at the moment.


    "So you said she had stomach pain?" Armand asked behind him, noting the symptoms down on a small piece of paper in his hand. "And high temperatures, as well as losing consciousness. Hmm..." He tapped his pencil against his palm, trying to think of a good reason for all the agony.


    "Do you know why? Do you know why she''s suffering?" Reynard whispered as he sat beside Rosa on the bed and clenched her hand. She was the only family he had left now, and even if it was not tied by blood, it was a piece of his heart and soul. He would do anything to make sure she''s alright. He was this close to beating up the receptionist back at the health center, too.


    "Is she eating properly these days?" Armand asked with his eyebrows raised.


    Reynard frowned, trying to think. He either always headed out first thing in the morning and had his dinner in his room sometimes. But had Rosa been following her usual diet?


    "I don''t know," Reynard whispered hopelessly, glancing at Rosa. For a moment, she looked almost like a skeleton, with her eyebags and her sunken cheeks. Because he had been immersed in all his own worries these past few days, he had failed to notice the rapidly deteriorating condition of his own sister. How could he have been so daft? "I-I don''t think she''s eaten lately."


    Armand nodded, pursing his lips. "I can tell by the looks of it. I''m sure this pain was just a temporary hunger pang. Make sure she eats well and she''ll be fine in no time."


    "Really?" Reynard said, the hopeful glint returning to his eyes. "Are you sure, doc?"


    "Yes, But!" Armand said suddenly. "If left untreated, the condition could escalate and before you know it-" he paused, thinking over his words again. "The worst possible can occur. Just take care of her and make sure she eats lots."


    Reynard stood up. "Thank you, doc. I have no idea what I would''ve done without you. Really, I''m so grateful that you took time for us, I''ll be forever in your debt."


    The man shook hands with Reynard and smiled. "Please. Think of it as a favor."


    "All the same, thank you very much."


    "Not a problem. I shall be taking my leave." The man waved Reynard goodbye and then went off to meet his own affairs. The door thudded behind him and Reynard flopped back down on his bed and held Rosa''s hand in his own, wondering why his sister drove herself through so much torture.


    "Why would you do this to yourself?" Reynard whispered as Rosa laid peacefully on her bed. "Why, you foolish girl?"


    Sighing, Reynard got up and went out to buy some foodstuffs for his sister, because he knew she''d much rather eat small things rather than a full meal.


    "Oh, look who it is!" The two stall vendors squealed as they saw Reynard approaching them.


    "Miss Narbeth!" Reynard waved. "Miss Faylen! How are you two?"


    Lori poked a finger into Reynard''s hard arm. "Call us by our names, boy. It''s Lori and Pyria. We aren''t your teachers anymore so no need to be so formal. Here to buy some cake?" She gestured towards all the assortments of bakery items on display and Reynard''s mouth watered just by looking at them.


    "Yes please," he smiled as he took a handful of coins from his pockets and put them on the tray. "I''ll have a piece of your best pie and any kind of strawberry pastry." Rosa liked strawberries.


    "Coming right up!" Pyria beamed as she started packing. "So how''s everything going on at home? Mom and Dad are good?"


    Reynard clenched his jaw, but managed to keep smiling. "Yes. How''s the business going for both of you?"


    "Great!" Lori squealed. "In fact, people like our products so much they keep coming back for seconds. I can''t believe we had so much talent this whole time and we never made use of it. Right, Pyria?"


    "Absolutely!" she said as she handed Reynard the packed food. "Here you go, sonny. Anything else?"


    "Nope," he said, grining. "This is plenty. If my sister likes these, I might just keep coming back."


    "Haha," the women laughed wholesomely. "So these are for your sister, eh? What was her name again? Rosey?"


    "Rosa," Reynard corrected as he took in the warm aroma of the baked goods in his hands. They smelled so sweet and amazing, that Reynard had to keep himself from unwrapping the slices and taking a bite. "Goodbye, then."


    "Goodbye!" The women waved back enthusiastically as Reynard went away.


    Quickly, he made his way back to his house where Rosa still lay unconscious. He brought a glass of water and showered droplets of it on her face to wake her back to consciousness.


    "Hey," Reynard whispered as he shook her by the shoulder. "Hey, wake up. I brought you something to eat."


    Slowly, as more droplets of water showered on her, Rosa eventually stirred and blinked her eyes open in surprise, not knowing what was happening. Then she winced again as her stomach contracted once more.


    "It''s okay, it''s okay," he whispered as he unwrapped the cakes. "Here, take a bite."


    "N-No, I don''t want to eat!" she hissed. "I want a doctor, Reynard, a-"


    "I know!" he cried. "But just eat the cake, will you? You''re hurting because you haven''t eaten for days! That''s what the doctor said. Really, Rosa, how could you? Hurry up and finish this pastry; it''s strawberry. I''ll brew you some tea to have with your pie."


    "What?" she whispered as she held her stomach. "Wait, the doctor is here? Where is he?"


    "He left while you were unconscious," Reynard mumbled as she stood up. "Said you were having a hunger pang. Hurry up and finish it, will you?"


    Rosa inspected the warm slice of creamed cake with strawberries on top as a decoration. "Where did you buy it? It looks expensive."


    "Somewhere," Reynard muttered distractedly and exited the room. He headed to the kitchen and put a pot of water on the heat and waited for it to boil.


    How could it have come to this? He had thought Rosa would be eating responsibly, after all the lecture he gave him that day. But she had actually starved at herself?


    Reynard held his face in his palms and groaned into them. The thought that he could have actually lost his sister if he wasn''t carefulˇ­ He shivered.


    "Tea''s ready," he called as he entered Rosa''s room again. "Did you finish the cake?" Reynard laughed when he saw the empty packaging on her bed as she sat beside it, licking her fingers. It was nice to see her eating heartily again. He knew strawberry cake was the way to go.


    "Is it that good?" he asked as he sat beside her and put the tray with the tea materials on the bed.


    "Marvelous," she said with her eyes rolling back in pleasure. "You have to tell me where you got it from because that vendor is certainly going to be seeing a lot of me."


    Reynard laughed. "I also brought you their best pie," he said as nudged the piece of pie towards her. She took the plate and inspected it.


    "Is this pumpkin pie?" she asked excitedly. "I love these! Thanks, Reyn."


    Reynard watched happily as Rosa dug into her small, yet fulfilling meal and even finished all her tea. It was a while since she had eaten heartily, and Rosa found joy in her sweet treats.


    "What a wonderful meal," she sighed, content, once everything was finished. "I feel so much better. The abdominal pain has lightened up and even my temperature has gone down. I''m so sorry for troubling you, Reynard." She squeezed his wrist. "I can imagine the scare that must''ve given you. But don''t worry, I''m not going anywhere."


    Reynard chuckled. "I know. Though I will be monitoring your meals from now on."


    "Whaaaaat?" Rosa wailed. "That''s just strange. I promise I''ll eat well so rest assured."


    Reynard gave a sad smile. "You know, after today, that your words are not enough for me." Rosa pouted and Reynard burst out laughing. "Don''t worry. It''ll only be for a short while before you get back on track."


    That evening, the both of them talked about things that occurred on their minds or troubled them. It was because both of them understood each other''s value as if for the first time, and knew how limited their time together could turn out to be. They settled past differences and laughed at old memories.


    It was indeed a new start and that''s all both of them ever wanted.

 Chapter 120 - An Infection?

    Rosa''s condition was stable the whole day after that, and Reynard was relieved that the worst had passed but then the next morning, Rosa''s painful scream penetrated the air.


    Reynard flung off his covers and ran to ensure her safety, and was shocked to see her clenching her stomach and throwing up all over the floor. He didn''t need to ask to know that the shooting pain had returned.


    "Let it out," he said as he rubbed her back. "It''s okay, we can clean the floors. I''ll bring you some water before I go get the doctor."


    Reynard knew where Armand lived. He had handed him a piece of paper with his address on it yesterday before he left, and Reynard had discarded it, thinking it was of no use anymore. But as he fished it out of the trashcan, he realized how much importance this little piece of paper held.


    Surprisingly, Armand lived quite close to Reynard''s house. Hastily, Reynard poured a clean glass of water for his sick sister and made her drink it slowly in sips before he dashed out of the house, the little chit of paper clenched in his palm.


    Armand Schneider''s house was like every other in his street: tall, shiny and magnificent. If the circumstances had been different, Reynard would have felt hesitant to approach the looming gates, but right then he ran at it and knocked so loudly, his ears rang.


    "Hello?" he called in as he repeatedly slapped his palm against the cold metal. "Hello? Is anyone there?"


    Before he could speak any further, the gates opened with a click and a cold woman with a stony face and similar fair hair to Armand''s stood by the threshold and looked suspiciously at Reynard''s face.


    "Yes?" she said crisply as she narrowed her eyes, nudging her chin forward. "What business do you have here?"


    Despite his panic, Reynard tried to appear composed.


    "Um, i-is Armand here?" said he, his voice shaking.


    The woman arched a sharp eyebrow. "And you are?"


    "I''m a friend of his," Reynard said, giving a wavering smile. "Please, madam. Is he available at the moment?"


    The woman was not convinced as she scanned Reynard. "I''m afraid he''s busy at the moment, so if you could please visit another time-"


    "I''m begging you, madam," Reynard said, his voice breaking. "Please tell him to come meet me once. It''s a matter of saving someone''s life."


    The woman scoffed as she let go of the gate. "Are you a friend from his academy?"


    Reynard frowned. "No."


    "Then I''m afraid he can''t take his precious time out just for a mere outsider. I''d advise you to arrange a meeting with him when he''s at leisure. Right now, he''s studying for his exams which are due in a couple weeks."


    Reynard let his demeanor loose as he pushed the gate aside and stormed inside the house uninvited. The woman was testing his patience and he was unable to tolerate it any longer.


    "Hey!" she screamed. "Intruder! Get out of my house!"


    "Armand!" Reynard called, ignoring her. "Armand Schneider!"


    The woman caught up to him and held him by the collar, her nails digging into Reynard''s neck.


    "What do you think you''re doing?" she hissed, looking him right in the eye. "Get out of my house before I call for my husband. Get out, now!"


    "Armand!" Reynard called, still disregarding her.


    "What in the heavens is going on?" Feet thudded against a grand carpeted staircase against the farthest wall and Armand appeared in the room with what appeared to be a shocked expression on his face. His eyes widened even further when he caught sight of Reynard standing in the middle of his house, and his mother holding him by the dollar. "What in the worldˇ­?"


    "Son!" the woman exclaimed. "Help me get this man out of the house; he''s barged in uninvited! The audacity!"


    "It''s okay, mother," he said as he approached the two, his hands outstretched in front of him. "I know the man, so let go of him, will you? Please?"


    Slowly, Reynard felt the women''s nails leave his neck and he finally took a breath.


    "Armand, it''s my sister again," Reynard muttered. "She''s throwing up everywhere even though I made her eat a lot yesterday. And she was fine then, too, but this morning-"


    "Calm down," Armand said, putting a hard hand on his shoulder. "It''s alright. I know you''re worried. Don''t fret, I''ll come along."


    "You aren''t going anywhere!" the annoying women cried shrilly. "You need to study for your doctors'' exams!"


    Armand turned to his mother and looked her coldly in the eye. "Practical work is a part of the exam procedure, mother. Prior practice won''t do anybody any harm. Let''s go, Reynard."


    "Stop!" the woman screamed as both of them made a run for it and before any of them knew it, they were out on the street.


    "The sun''s just rising!" Reynard said to him as both men dashed in matched paces. "Why were you awake so early?"


    "It''s my mother!" Armand answered in between fast breaths. "According to her, I should start my revisions at the earliest possible."


    "What?" Reynard asked incredulously. "You mean she commands you to start studying at the crack of dawn?"


    Armand gave him a sad smile. "That''s pretty much the gist of it."


    Reynard scoffed, still not being able to fathom the fact. "What a control freak."


    The two turned a corner and stopped as a group of girls walking jollily down the street with linked arms and only ran by as all of them stopped to admire the two handsome men.


    "Here we are," Reynard wheezed as he fiddled with the key to his house and when he finally managed to open the door, he ran inside and to his sister''s room, Armand only a couple steps behind him.


    "Dear me," Armand exclaimed and as he caught sight of the wriggling lady on the bed and the amount of puke on the floor. "What the hell happened here?"


    The two scrunched their noses at the pungent smell that hung in the air and went to check up on Rosa''s condition.


    "How''re you doing?" Reynard asked as he carefully stepped over the vomit and sat beside Rosa''s shivering body. "Is your stomach still hurting? Look, I brought a doctor."


    "It feels like I''ll die any moment now," she sobbed in reply, her cheeks stained with tears. Even in her sick condition, she looked very pretty, with her cheeks red and her eyes shimmering with tears.


    "Hello there," Armand whispered as he interrupted the siblings. "May I ask if your stomach hurts more than yesterday?"


    Rosa looked at Armand and paused. "U-Um..." she stuttered, flustered. "Uh, y-yes."


    Armand nodded as he looked away. "By the look of it, I was wrong yesterday. If it was a mere hunger pang, it should''ve settled by now. But the fact that the contractions have resumed means that this is probably a stomach infestation. Have you eaten any rotten food lately? Anything you shouldn''t have eaten?"


    Rosa gulped, trying to remember. "Uh... I-I don''t think so." Another shooting pain made her curl up and she wailed. "Aghhh, I can''t remember!"


    Armand clenched his jaw. "Miss, try to remember, please. Did you eat anything bad lately? Perhaps you shared something with an ill person?"


    Rosa remained silent for a few minutes before she looked at the alleged doctor.


    "I shared some fruit a few days ago with a close friend of mine. Since then, I''ve been feeling a dull pain in my abdomen area, but it heightened only yesterday."


    Armand nodded again as he noted everything down on his notepad.


    "Stomach infection it is. Does this close friend you speak of have any history of illnesses?"


    Rosa nodded as she remembered. "Yes, yes she does."


    Armand pursed his lips. "I''ll write some medicines down here, which you can get from any good apothecary. They may be expensive, but they''ll suppress the pain for you. Before you get proper treatment."


    The two waited in anticipation as Armand wrote down the prescription.


    "Here you go." He handed the small piece of paper to Reynard who gave it one glance and gave a soft gasp.


    "These are too many," he muttered as he checked the long list. "Are you sure all of these are absolutely necessary?"


    Arman nodded with a sad smile. "I''m afraid so. I should be getting back to my mother in case she''s blowing up with worry. If you ever need me again, you''re always welcome at my house."


    Reynard smirked. "Your mother might think otherwise."


    "Don''t worry about her. I''ll tell her to let you in unquestioned next time. See you, then." With that, Armand took his leave.


    Rosa watched him leave with a dazed look in her eyes.


    "He''s a handsome young fellow," Rosa whispered before throwing up.


    ?


    "Mister William Radomir!" Reynard approached the familiar apothecary''s stall, waving the small piece of paper in the air.


    The middle-aged man looked up in surprise. "Well, well, well. Look who we have here. Long time no see!"


    Reynard wanted to greet him with a warm smile, but he just could not, considering his circumstances. "Well, things have been a bit strange for me. Anyways, could I have all of the listed?"


    Apothecary Radomir took the list from Reynard''s hand and scanned it before rubbing his eyes and doing a double take.


    "My my, boy," he muttered, reading down once more. "These are almost ten medicines. Herbs and syrups and whatnot! And none of these are for typhoid, too. Did your momma get another illness or something? Poor her..."


    "No, it''s not exactly for her," Reynard said impatiently. "Look, Mister Radomir, can we hurry it up a bit? I need these urgently."


    "I heed you, boy," the apothecary muttered as he shuffled around to gather the listed materials. "Mm, we got wormwood...a mint and peppermint compound...and what''s this? Aloe juice?"


    Eventually, the man gathered all the medicines and pushed them towards Reynard.


    "That''ll be 30 silvers."


    "What!?" Reynard exclaimed, incredulous. "Are you serious? There''s no way all of this is that expensive."


    Apothecary Radomir shrugged. "You know I give you more discounts than anyone on the street, boy. This is the cheapest you can get anywhere."


    Reluctantly, Reynard handed over the implausible amount of coins, almost emptying his whole wallet and quickly headed home.


    "I''ll brew you the herbs with some tea," Reynard called as he darted inside his house and straight to the kitchen. "Hold on there, now."


    It was a while before the tea was finally ready, and by then, Rosa was almost unconscious once again. She quickly shaken to conscious and was forced to gulp down all the herbs.


    "It''s bitter," she coughed.


    "Shh, we need you to drink all of this if you want to relieve yourself from the pain. There''s nothing else we can do."


    It took a while but once she finally finished the whole two cups, Rosa started feeling much better.


    "It''s the palliative medicines," Reynard muttered once he saw his sister finally relax. "Guess that Armand guy really was the real deal." Reynard sighed as his sister fell into a deep sleep. He smiled at her, finally able to ease up himself, but then he sniffed and the puke''s smell made him tense all over again.


    ˇ­


    ˇ­


    "I should probably clean this up."

 Chapter 121 - Long Time, No See

    [Meanwhile, at what once was Ogden Cove]


    As I cleaned whisker''s litter box, the strange dream lingered in my mind. Purple hair...tan skinˇ­Reynard''s head scarfˇ­ Was it all connected somehow? Or was I just being too paranoid?


    Yes, I must be overthinking. There''s no way a child of such a fragile frame could''ve survived a fall from that height. He would''ve died instantly by the immense pain from broken joints, if not by the fractured bones themselves. I clenched the small spade in my hand, the foul stench of Whiskers'' droppings wafting all around, though of no effect on me as such mind boggling thoughts revolved in my head.


    "Hurry it up, will you?" Mama said as she slapped me on the back. I froze up and all thoughts vanished from my mind in but a moment. "You''re taking ages. If I was able enough to bend my knees, lassie, I swear upon God I would''ve cleaned his tray out myself."


    I rubbed my back, glaring at her with the spade raised in the air.


    "Then why don''t you make Sven do it?" I exclaimed. "Free me of my suffering and your work will be done in a second."


    "Don''t get snappy with me," she retorted and slapped me on the back more times than I can count.


    After a sore back and a clean tray for Whiskers to poop inside all over again, the job was done. Exhausted and enveloped by the toxic fumes from head to toe, I staggered out of Mama''s room and collapsed on the floor.


    "What are you doing?"


    I looked up and Sven''s shoes greeted me. Further up was attached the rest of him and I lay my head back down, groaning.


    "It''s all because of you," I muttered. "Who goes grocery shopping so early in the morning? You left me behind to rot, didn''t you?"


    He chuckled in reply and walked past me to put away all the groceries in the kitchen. While he did so, he silently watched me through the open door and burst out laughing when I turned my head to the other side.


    "But why ever are you lying on the floor?" he asked behind me, the clinking of jars echoing through the airy room as he put them away in the overhead cupboards.


    "Because I''m dying," I responded curtly. "Listen, buddy, have you ever seen rat poop up close?"


    He shrugged. "I was the one who always cleaned his tray prior to your arrival. So yes, I have."


    "And do you know how stinky it is?"


    He chuckled as he checked the label on one jar. "I''m sure I do."


    I frowned and sat up. "So you knew I''d hate it, and still you left intentionally. You wretch."


    Sven smiled as he looked at me from the kitchen, his silver hair glowing from the sunlight that flooded in through the small kitchen window. That was it. He didn''t even reply. But that sly smile said everything. I groaned and leaned back against the wall.


    "I need a bath," I muttered to myself as I stared up at the low ceiling. Even if I didn''t like my life back at home, at least there was a bathtub and a properly functioning bathroom.


    "There aren''t any baths at the inn!" Sven called from the kitchen.


    "Shut up! I know."


    I held my head and took a deep breath. I felt like crap, and smelled like it, too. I was about to grovel because of this situation when there was a sudden knock on the door.


    "I''ll get it," I muttered bitterly as I lifted myself off the floor and trotted over to the door. I undid the locks and the door creaked on its hinges as I pulled it open just a bit. Even without looking, I knew Sven''s eyes were at the door as well.


    "Hi," said the visitor.


    I smiled even before I looked up to see who it was. I just knew.


    "Hey, Reynard. Come on in."


    Today, Reynard wore the same head scarf he had worn that day, but it was tied more loosely around his head as if he had done it in a hurry. I gulped when I caught sight of the several patches of purple hair and all of a sudden, I was reminded of my horrible dream. I even thought I saw the little boy''s face in Reynard, and for a moment, I was transfixed in my spot.


    "Hellooo~?" Reynard waved his hand before my eyes, waiting for me to move.


    "Oh. Oh, sorry," I said quickly, shaking my head. What had I been thinking? Reynard was just a commoner. There''s no way he had a history at the Imperial Palace. Right, I must be overthinking. "Come in."


    "Where are the guests?" Reynard asked as he walked past me inside and looked around.


    "Ah." The images of the burning bodies flashed in my mind and I faltered. "T-They left a few days ago. Yeah. They left."


    Reynard turned around and scowled. "You''re talking strangely. Did something happen?"


    "No!" My response came before he had even completed his sentence. Reynard made a face. I needed to get the conversation back on track, so I decided to change subjects. "So, what''s been going on with you? Where were you these past couple days?"


    Reynard gave a loud sigh. "Mmm, let''s not go there."


    I arched an eyebrow. "Why? Something happened, didn''t it?"


    He clicked his tongue. "I don''t want to talk about it. Where''s Mama?" Before I could answer, he walked past me and knocked on the door to Mama''s room. "Ma! Mama Ruth! I''m coming in."


    "Hol'' up, you little bastard!" came Mama''s screech from inside. Reynard stood back, and then a moment later, Mama emerged from the room, her face contorted in anger.


    "What?" Reynard asked, puzzled.


    "Lower your head."


    "Huh?"


    Mama gave a polite smile, but the masked fury behind it was unmistakable. "I said lower your head."


    Hesitantly, Reynard crouched down and howled in pain as Mama pinched his ear and twisted.


    "You little wench," Mama screeched as she pulled him down. "I heard you played with my diary without my permission?"


    "Wha-a-a-at!?" he howled. "When was that?"


    Mama shot me an accusing glare and I looked away, scared. Damn, someone was dead meat tonight.


    "And then you refuse to come visit me even once, eh? You really are a little bastard," Mama exclaimed and twisted his ear beyond any possibilities, and I wondered if Reynard''s screams would bring all the neighbors to the inn.


    Then before things could proceed, she let go of his ear and as if a kitten being cornered by a larger cat, Reynard recoiled in pain and fear.


    He snapped his head around to look at me, his eyes wide with incredulous curiosity, and I smiled back.


    "Alright, since you''re here," she muttered and looked towards the kitchen, but gave him a second glance and frowned. "What''s that thing on your head?"


    Instinctively, Reynard touched his hair and was only greeted by the black piece of cloth that was tied securely around his head.


    "Oh, this," he muttered and patted his head, making sure nothing was revealing. "Fashion." He shrugged indifferently. "You wouldn''t understand."


    Before Mama could blow all up in his face again, Reynard stretched his arms and headed upstairs.


    "Where are you going?" Mama asked as his heavy feet thudded against the weak wooden stairs.


    He yawned. "I didn''t sleep a blink last night, so I think I''ll go take a doze."


    Mama scoffed and pointed a bent, old finger at him. "You visit after such a long time and you do what? Sleep? I won''t allow it. Come talk to me."


    He waved a dismissive hand and continued climbing the stairs. "Nah. Very sleepy. Your Highness, please wake me after an hour or so."


    And with that, he headed to the rooms and it was too late to stop him as he entered my room. My room. Where we threw all the blood sodden bedsheets. It must''ve escaped all of our minds, which proved to be a big mistake as Reynard looked over the banister with his mouth agape.


    "What. The. F*ck. Is. That." His voice was a mixture of a whisper and a hiss. His eyes were wide and he jabbed his thumb towards my room each time he came to a period.


    Mama and I exchanged nervous glances, not knowing how to answer him. There was no way any sort of excuse would help, but still, I went forward and tried.


    "R-Remember the guests earlier," I said, my voice high-pitched suddenly. "One of them got hurt...by a car! Yes, they got hit by a car."


    I thought I did wonderfully, but I received two pairs of puzzled glances.


    "What''s a car?" Mama asked, frowning.


    I opened my mouth to answer but no words came out. Crapppppp! Why do I mix both the eras up? There aren''t even any cars here, for goodness'' sake!


    "Car..riage! I meant a carriage!" I patted myself for a good save. "One of the guests got hit by a carriage and we had him lay on my bed."


    Reynard, apparently, was still not buying it. "If he was so hurt to the point he was bleeding profusely like that, why didn''t you put him in the first room? Or Mama''s room?"


    Mama laughed nervously. And then, "Enough! If you aren''t sleeping then come down and clean Whiskers'' potty tray."


    I frowned and turned to her. "But I did that already."


    "WELL HE DOESN''T KNOW THAT!"


    For a moment, all was silent after that. Then amidst the immense tension, Sven emerged from the kitchen, and failing to recognize the atmosphere, broke the silence.


    "Um, this jam jar has worms in it."

 Chapter 122 - Coming To Light

    "So..."


    Reynard and I sat on my bed in Room#5 this time. After the whole shabang before, he had become void of all sleep and had quietly followed me up to my room, just somewhere away from furious Mama Ruth.


    "...weren''t you going to sleep?"


    Reynard leaned back on my bed and stared off into the distance, as if thinking about something.


    "No, I was joking earlier," he muttered. "Anyways, how''ve you been faring lately?"


    I smiled as I sat with my back against the bed''s headboard, my knees tucked under my chin.


    "Good," I said as I stared at him curiously. "Will you now tell me about the reason you decided to start wearing a headscarf?"


    Honestly, I was dying to know. If his hair really turned out to be the shade of purple I had embedded in my mind, thenˇ­ Then what? What would I say to him? That I thought he''s royalty? How would I explain my claim, then? By saying that I saw it in a dream? He''d laugh at me, surely.


    And he already had parents! And a sister, too! There''s no way he is who I think he is. Like I keep telling myself, I must be overthinking. Yes, that must be it.


    I watched in anticipation as Reynard untied the scarf at the back of his neck and started unwrapping it, slowly and carefully.


    "Sooo I got a new hair color," he muttered in between, pausing.


    I raised an eyebrow. "Artificially?"


    He pursed his lips for a while contemplating ways to answer. Then he sighed. "Um, you should be the judge of that."


    My eyes widened with amazement as his scarf came off and under it was revealed a head full of purple hair, a color I was already very familiar with.


    "So it is you," I whispered with a small gasp. "No wayˇ­ There''s no way..."


    Reynard tilted his head in confusion. "Erm, it is a strange color, I know. Do I look daft?" he asked as he stroked his hair. "Will it be okay to go out without the cloth?"


    "No!" I said, almost too quickly. Reynard frowned. "I-I mean, yes, it looks daft. Very daft. Don''t go outside without that thing,"- I pointed at the black scarf in his hand- "and don''t ever show anyone your hair. Ever! Do you hear me?"


    Reynard scoffed, a dazed look on his face. "That''s what my sister said, too. What is the deal with you guys?"


    Something about what Reynard said struck me as strange. Something about it bothered me. His sister told him to not go out unless he wore his scarf? But why would she tell him that? Surely not because she thinks he looks stupid, right? Then why else would she bring him down like that?


    She doesn''t know, does she?


    I stared intently at the bedsheet, considering the possibility. No, no there''s no way she knows. Yeah, I''m getting way ahead of myself. But if I''m wrong, and she really does know, then why is she hiding it from him?


    I looked at Reynard and by the innocent look of him, I realized that he had no idea. No idea of his own capability.


    "Alright, cover it up again," I said curtly as I threw the black scarf on his head, and it landed lightly like a feather. "You''re a sight for sore eyes."


    Reynard chuckled playfully as he lifted the scarf off his face, unoffended.


    "Princess, may I ask you a question?" he asked suddenly, his tone changing to a one of grave seriousness. He looked into my eyes expressionlessly.


    I shrugged. "Sure."


    "I heard that only members of the Royal family had superior enough genes to possess purple hair or the likes," he said, paused and put his hand over his hair. "So what does that say about me?"


    I blinked. "What do you mean?"


    He chuckled as if he couldn''t believe what he was implying. "There''s no way I could be a member of the Royal Family, right?"


    I flinched. Don''t overreact, don''t overreact, don''t overreact, don''t overreact, PLEASE don''t overreact. That''s what I kept telling myself as I thought about how to respond.


    "Reynard," I said eventually, "but you already have your birth parents, and they aren''t royalty. So how could you possibly be-"


    "I''m adopted." The words were like a knife in the gut and I paused, trying to absorb his words.


    "What did you say?"


    "I said I''m adopted."


    Alright so he was adopted. Big deal. There''s still no way his real father was the Emperor. Waitˇ­ Now that I think about it, if the small boy really did escape his uncle''s reach, where did he go? I answered my own question: The city. Of course he went to the city. Wherever else could he go? Alright so the little boy somehow escaped to the city after he survived that long fall, and somehow carried himself to a house. No, not Reynard''s house. Somewhere closer to the palace. But the residents turned the dirty little boy matted with blood and dirt away because they haven''t a heart.


    Then what?


    The little boy goes and knocks on every door in the street till eventually he turns up at Reynard''s house. I remember Sir Simon Gradral telling me that he lived quite close to the palace. So it was a possibility that the boy turned up at the door to house Gradral, where Sir Gradral- being the kind man that he was- let the little boy in.


    Due to his youth and lack of foresight, the little prince must''ve told everything about his parents'' murder and his uncle going on a rampage, and Mister and Mrs Gradral, thinking that it was dangerous to turn the kid away, adopted the boy and changed his name. After all this, was it possible that they dyed his hair black to conceal his identity completely?


    Yes, I thought, it was a likely option.


    Then, as the boy grew up, he slowly forgot about his past (like children usually do) and grew up to be a part of his warm new family.


    I chuckled to myself, knowing how far-fetched I sounded. Even though this was a cozy prospect, the whole thing may just be a figment of my imagination.


    "Something on your mind?" Reynard asked as he wrapped the scarf around his head once again.


    I shook awake from my dream-like state and looked at Reynard. This time, unlike all others, he seemed like a different person to me. Was it possible this man had royal blood running through his veins? Wait a second.


    If he really was the boy I saw in my dreams, then does it mean Reynard could very well be my long lost brother? Brother!?


    My expression must have been so horrified that Reynard sat up worriedly.


    "What? What happened?" he asked as he searched my face for an answer.


    Unable to keep myself, I whispered out, "If you really do turn out to be royalty, does it ultimately mean that you''re my brother?"


    It took him a minute to understand where I was coming from, and then he did something I least expected him to. He burst out laughing.


    "Did you actually think I was serious?" he gasped in between cackles. "It was a mere joke; don''t take it to heart! I mean,"- he gestured at himself in a mocking manner- "does it look like I''m a prince or something of the likes?"


    I blushed a deep, embarrassed red.


    "You don''t have to say it like that," I mumbled as I lowered my face on my knees and hid. "You can''t blame the current you and detach yourself from your past."


    There was a moment of silence and then Reynard poked a hard finger into my arm. I looked up at him and frowned at his wide eyes.


    "Wait," he whispered. "You''re serious about this. You think I''m your brother."


    I gulped.


    He gave a soft scoff, as if he couldn''t even believe the idea.


    "Why?" he asked gravely.


    I leaned in, unable to hear him properly. "Pardon?"


    "Why do you think I''m your brother?"


    I sat back and blinked. It took me a full minute to realize what he meant. Was he actually considering my nervous babble? (Though I knew it was probably true.)


    "Why do I think you''re my brother?" I repeated. "I-Iˇ­ I know you won''t believe my reason..."


    He leaned in, curiosity all over his face. "Tell me. Tell me why you think I''m your brother."


    I gulped, suddenly frightened of his reaction. Would he think I''m daft for believing in a dream? If I was in his place, I know I would.


    "I-I-I saw it all!" I stuttered eventually, closing my eyes so I won''t be able to see the ridiculing expression on his face. "I saw in a dream where..." I paused and thought about it. If the part about Reynard was probably true, than what of the uncle? The man named Barion who had so easily killed the Emperor and his wife. The man who looked just like the Emperor. A twinˇ­?


    But then if my dream was true and the real Emperor is actually dead, then who''s the guy who pretended to be my father all this time?


    I gave a loud, shaky gasp as it all came to light.


    It was the uncle! He had killed his brother and his wife and had taken the throne! God, God, noˇ­ Sweat trickled down my forehead as all the puzzle pieces started to fit together. It all started to make sense why the Emperor seemed indifferent to matters regarding me at times, why he missed my ceremony, and why he threw the whole of Wisteria into chaos after I disappeared. It was never because I was his daughter, not at all. He was only hungry for the power.


    That time I first met him out in the gardens, he, though very softly but with a stony expression on his face, had told me first to prepare for the ceremony myself. But after giving it a second thought, he had changed his mind and had advised me to take care of myself. Even then, it had struck me as a little strange, but I had dismissed the feeling at once.


    I mean, how could a parent put such a burden on a fragile girl in the first place? He had thought better of it not because he was worried about me, but because he was worried that I might hurt myself and then my powers wouldn''t resurface.


    I know.. I saw the lust for power in his eyes, and it was the most menacing thing I had ever caught sight of.

 Chapter 123 - Drafting

    "You don''t look so good," Reynard muttered. "Do you want some water?"


    I gulped and gave a long exhale to calm my nerves.


    "I''m alright." I fanned myself with my hand. "Sorry about that."


    Reynard didn''t wait to beat around the bush. "So you saw a dream? What about?"


    "Um..." My mouth became dry again. Eventually, I decided to omit the part about the murder since I didn''t want to needlessly confuse him when he was already dealing with so much. "You ran away from the palace."


    Reynard frowned. "You saw a dream where I ran away from the palace? That''s it?"


    I shook my head and stood up. Dang bro, I needed to stand up for this.


    "Alright so," I said loudly so I had his attention. He sat up straight like a student heeding his teacher''s words. "I had a dream."


    "You already mentioned that," he interrupted.


    I glared at him and he smiled innocently. I decided to start all over again. "So I had a dream. And it was a really strange one at that. The setting was the interior of the Imperial palace, and some of the places I didn''t even know existed until I saw them in my dream. I confirmed the locations only afterwards." Reynard didn''t comment, so I carried on. "And I saw a boy about 5 or 6 years of age and extremely similar to you. Everything, with the slightly darker shade of skin and the specific shade of purple to your sea-green eyes. I had no doubt it was you."


    Reynard raised his hand before talking. "And what was seemingly a 6 year old me doing in your dream?"


    I bit my lower lip as I remembered the nightmare. "You were running. Running away from the palace."


    "And where did I go?" Reynard whispered.


    "To the city."


    For a while after that, Reynard remained silent as he wondered about things known best to himself. It seemed as if he was thinking about what I had said, which was a surprise since I had expected him to blow me off and mock me for my claims. To think that he was actually considering the possibilities was a feat in itself.


    "Can you take a look at this?" he said eventually and put his hand in his pocket, shuffling around for something.


    I watched curiously as he pulled out small rips of paper and put them gently on my bed as if they were his most prized possession.


    "What''s this?" I asked.


    He smiled fondly as he turned the rips of paper over until all of them had some part of writing on it, and then began arranging them as if they were a puzzle.


    "My deceased mother wrote his note," he said softly as he worked on forming the original message. "And I found it in her drawer after she died, ripped to shreds. By the looks of it, she meant it for my eyes to read."


    I narrowed my eyes, trying to read as the message started to form:


    ''My sweet boy


    I hope you get what was rightfully yours to begin with. Fight for it, and let it not slip away from your hands. I love you.''


    And that was it, sweet and short.


    "That''s nice," I muttered. Loving words from a loving mother, something I can not relate to, since my mother had not a single ounce of love inside her for us. We were a dead weight for her, a burden. Honestly, I have to admit that her sudden death was a relief to all.


    "I know it''s nice," Reynard replied, as he looked at the paper with a sad look in his eyes. "But whatever does it mean?"


    I blinked. "What it means? I reckon it''s pretty simple." I read the message once again. "I hope you get what was truly yours to begin withˇ­ Hmm..."


    Reynard cocked an eyebrow at me. "Simple, was it? Let''s see now. Something that was truly mine to begin withˇ­ A thing I don''t have possession of right nowˇ­ Whatever could it be?"


    I put all my mind to it, and then it clicked.


    "What if she means the throne?" I gasped. "The throne was rightfully yours to begin with if you really were the prince! And if you actually are a royal, she''d know it because she was there when you first found your family. I bet you spilled everything then."


    Reynard frowned. "Wait. Wait, though it does make sense, there''s no way I can believe it."


    I sighed, frustrated. "How old was your sister when she met you?"


    "She told me she was around 14."


    I nodded. "Then she probably remembers everything you said then. Go home and ask her about it. All your suspicions would be settled then, I''m sure."


    Reynard laughed softly. "That''s the problem. I''ve already asked her and she refused to tell me."


    "No way."


    He laughed again at my reaction. "Yes way. She said she''ll tell me all in good time."


    "SO YOU REALLY ARE A ROYAL! THAT CONFIRMS IT!" I cried. "YOU''RE MY FREAKING BROTHER!"


    I have no idea why I was so happy, but I could tell that I was just ecstatic. There had never been a day I had looked upon Reynard with anything but sibling-like fondness since he was a great source of support for me. He almost reminded me of Jieum back in Korea, who had been there for me just like he did. I thought of Jieum as a sister, too, and to meet someone so similar to her in a fictional world made me feel so much more at home than I really was.


    "I''m not a prince!" Reynard said, standing up. Then a hopeful expression came over his face. "Do you mean the Emperor is my real father?"


    "No, not him!" I exclaimed in my haste and excitement. "He''s not-" and then I paused. He''s not anybody''s father. He''s a murderer and a fraud and my urge to revenge this princess'' parents was growing by the minute. Even though I hadn''t really ever known the actual Emperor and Empress, I can not forgive Barion for murdering the poor souls for nothing but power. What a wretched creature.


    "Listen carefully to me, Reynard," I hissed and grabbed his arms. "That man on the throne, he''s a fraud. A fake. He killed the real Emperor and Empress so he could eventually get his hands on my power. He wanted to kill you, too, but unfortunately for him, you ran away."


    "Wait!" he exclaimed, breaking free from my grasp, an expression of pure shock and disbelief on his face. "The Emperor is not really your father?"


    "He isn''t!" I raked my hands through my scalp, frustrated. "He killed them! I know he did."


    Reynard scoffed as he stared out the window, thinking about something.


    "Honestly, I always thought there was something fishy about him. It was as if the affection he gave you was conditional. Remember when you once asked me about the Empress?"


    I nodded. I had done something of the sort when I resided back at the palace.


    "I told you I''ll tell you everything in good time. Honestly, I knew nothing about it except the fact that she died under suspicious circumstances and there was no funeral of any kind. Isn''t that strange?"


    I nodded.


    "And I had also advised you to stay away from the Emperor," Reynard reminded me, "to which you had asked why. I''d always had a bad feeling about him. There was always this strange lust for power in his eyes..."


    I clicked my fingers. "That''s exactly what I think! So we agree he''s the murderer?"


    "If you saw it in your dream, then perhaps. I mean, how big of a coincidence can it all be? Unlikely, I reckon. What do we do now?"


    I bit my nails. What do we do, really? It''s not like we can throw the Emperor off his throne when I''m supposed to be dead in everyone''s eyes. It''ll cause national turmoil if I step up to blame him for his sins. If not for that, there''s no way we can win against him.


    I glanced at Reynard who was lost in his own thoughts. Could he do it in my stead? No. I shook my head. He''d be executed for blasphemy at once. I mean, would people be willing to believe one commoner who claimed to be a prince against the man who already had the throne in his grasp? I think not.


    Defeated, I sighed and collapsed on my bed.


    "What do we doˇ­? It''s not like we can call him out upfront."


    Reynard bit his lips, his eyes on the floor. Then his face glowed up all of a sudden as if he had remembered something. I leaned in, curious to hear the idea he had just gotten.


    "Listen here, listen here," he murmured as he came up close to me. "Have we forgotten that we have ties to the palace?"


    I frowned. "Who?"


    "That Red-head Lady!"


    I gasped. "How can I forget!" Then I frowned. "Wait, how is she going to help us?"


    "What if," Reynard began slowly, thinking over his own words, "what if we convince her to kill the Emperor?"


    I gaped. Wait. Wait a minute. Do we want to kill him? I mean, yes, I want revenge for the princess but really, does it mean we have to kill him in the end.


    I sighed. "I see. So it really is our only option."


    Reynard nodded and squeezed my arm. "It''s either him or us, Princess."


    "I know." Either he dies....or we do.

 Chapter 124 - The Note

    [Meanwhile, at the Palace]


    The morning was coming to a close as Yvonne sat elegantly at the glass topped table in her room and drafted out the names of the guests who will be attending the arriving tea party. Stace hung nearby.


    "Stace," Yvonne called out as she brusquely circled a name amongst others on the list, "shall I invite Lady Quileth? I''ve heard she''s quite an infamous personality amongst the vast community of nobles."


    Stace made a face. "Indeed, she''s a woman of many rumors. Marrying Lord Quileth was just not enough for her, so after his sudden death, she went off and instituted a harem of sorts."


    Yvonne frowned. "Lord Quileth died? I thought he was overseas. Was it a shady death?"


    "No, I don''t think so." Stace looked off into the distance as she tried to remember. "I heard he died of natural causes. Nothing suspicious there."


    Yvonne nodded. "Okay." She contemplated adding her to the guest list, and then gave in, knowing that the drama at the assemblage would be exciting. She''d love to know more about Lady Quileth.


    Underlining her title twice, Yvonne moved on to the next name. Upon reading it, she frowned again.


    "Does the name ''Madame Beatrice'' strike a chord?"


    "Madame Beatrice who?"


    Yvonne read again. "Beatrice Wynneli."


    Stace shook her head. "Never heard of her. By the sound of it, she may as well be a mistress or something."


    "Stace!" Yvonne shot her a look. "It says here next to her name that she''s the wife of an esteemed merchant. Shall I invite her?"


    Stace shrugged. "I dunno. It''s a little gathering for noble women only, so I''m not sure a common madame would fare well there."


    Yvonne bit her lip and put a question mark next to her name. Against all her expectations, preparing the guest list proved to be a problematic task. She needed to invite only a limited number of women from a list of hundreds, and she knew not about the best additions to the final draft. Of course she wouldn''t, she was new to the empire so she was unaware of the well-known personalities.


    "This is so tiring!" Yvonne exclaimed and put her ink-dipped quill down. "Why aren''t there any problem-free women in the empire willing to spend a lovely afternoon at tea? Everyone''s either a witch or a potential murderer."


    Stace chuckled at the state of her lady. "Well, you can invite Duke Xilsys'' daughter, Lillith. She''s a girl of pure innocence and she receives hundreds of marriage proposals daily from the men who are into that type."


    Yvonne chuckled. "Lilith Xilsys, is it? How old is she?"


    "Now this is the weird part," Stace scoffed, her eyes wide. "The girl''s only sixteen. Sixteen! Men can be real wretches at times."


    "True that," Yvonne murmured as she wrote Lilith''s name down. "I think I''m done with the list. We''ve got 10 women of various characters, whom I''m sure will get along just fine."


    Stace smiled as she picked the piece of paper up and folded it. "Let''s not ponder over it, shall we? I''ll hand this to His Majesty as soon as the circumstances allow me. Do you want some water to cool off?"


    Yvonne shook her head. "No. But tell me what I have on my schedule today."


    Stace nodded and recited from memory. "After breakfast, which you''ve already had today, you had to work on the guest list and then as per His Majesty''s request, pay him a visit in chambers."


    Yvonne groaned. "Nooo, not that! I just want to take a nap."


    Stace chuckled. "It''s unusual of His Majesty to request something like this from any of his mistresses. To think that he invented only you in his private chambers must mean he fancies you. Now isn''t that a great feat. Right in Lady Obsilia''s face, ahaha!"


    "I guess," Yvonne mumbled, "but frankly, the old man''s a real pain. I''d rather gouge my eyes out with a fork than spend time with him."


    "Now, now," Stace patted her on the shoulder, "let''s not talk about morbid details here. You''re a smart girl, I''m sure you can slip out of his grasp."


    Yvonne sighed and stared out at the approaching evening sky from the tall balcony doors. She wondered what the Emperor had in store for her, since he called her so abruptly at the breakfast table this morning. Elora''s face had been one of pure envy and disbelief, while the other women were either indifferent or surprised, but not displeased.


    "Alright," Yvonne mumbled as she slid out of her chair and stretched her sore arms. "Stace, will you please get the pretty night blue dress out of my wardrobe? I''ll wear that to his room."


    Stace frowned as she headed to the closet. "Why that one?"


    "Since it''s hard to get off." Yvonne smiled. "And there are about a gazillion layers under the skirt. I''m sure I''ll get away at once if the Emperor tries to undress me or something, since he''ll fail for sure."


    Stace laughed. "Well, good luck with that. But I''m sure that won''t happen as it''s been a long, long while since the Emperor touched a lady like that."


    Yvonne scowled as she flopped down on her soft, plush bed.


    "Why so?" she asked. "Is he keeping up a streak?"


    Stace shrugged as she pulled the desired blue dress out of the closet.


    "I''m afraid even I don''t know that. Anyways, here''s the dress."


    "Now isn''t that lovely," Yvonne whispered as she stroked the patterned blue skirt. It was indeed a head-turning dress, with the neck-high fabric and the embellished front. Yvonne was sure she''d dazzle anyone if she donned such beauty, but in this case, the dress did not hold such purpose.


    Behind the dress, where either the corset laces or the hooks were supposed to be, was nothing, it appeared. But only the dressmaker or the dress-bearer would know the secret to it. It was a strange dress that hooked from the inside, and it would take at least one other person aside from the user of the dress to wear it.


    Slowly, Yvonne slipped out of her morning dress and with Stace''s help, she stepped into the blue dress, a color she loved since it complemented the glimmer in her eyes.


    "All done," Stace sighed after a while of struggling with the hidden hooks and stood back to adore her hard work. "Don''t you look just splendid? Come, let me do your hair."


    Yvonne sat down on the little stool near the mirror and stared at her reflection as her flaming red hair was pulled away from her shoulders and into Stace''s care.


    "Shall we do it up or down today?" Stace asked.


    Yvonne thought about it. "Down."


    It took a while for Stace to prepare her lady for the big moment, so long that Yvonne was almost asleep on her seat before Stace shook her back to consciousness.


    "Hey, are you dozing off?" Stace chuckled. "Get up, we''re done here. Your morning makeup is perfect as is, so I won''t add anything to it. Go on then, go get your man."


    Yvonne cringed. "I''d rather be single, Stace. You know that."


    Stace nudged her reassuringly. "You''ll be okay."


    Yvonne took a deep breath and was about to open the door to her room and head out when she heard a tiny clink.


    "What was that?" she asked, turning around.


    Stace frowned as she looked towards the balcony, where the clinking sound had apparently come from. Both of them went to check what had happened and right there, at the foot of the door was a little rock with a piece of paper tied to it.


    "What in the world..." Yvonne opened the door and picked the small rock up. She untwisted the thread and opened the folded piece of paper to read what it said. It was a short message, one that gave her chills.


    "What does it say?" Stace asked as she peeked over her shoulder.


    Immediately, Yvonne hid the paper from view and pretended as if everything was alright.


    "What?" Stace asked suspiciously, narrowing her eyes.


    "Nothing!" Yvonne smiled and then pushed past her. "I''m getting late; I better get going. See you later, Stace!"


    Once outside, Yvonne hurried through the corridors, her heart beating faster and faster with each step. That note...she knew who had thrown it.


    What it said had been revolving in her mind for days, and to think they thought likewise and had already found out was surprising.


    ''Will you kill him?''


    That''s what the small piece of paper clenched in her palm had relayed to her. Without even knowing the name of the person she had been requested to kill, she knew. It was the Emperor. And she also knew who had requested such a hard task from her.


    It could be nobody but them. That black haired due paired with the princess in hiding.


    How had they come to the same conclusion as herself? Had they already figured out that the Emperor was a fake? If so, kudos to them. They were much smarter than she had expected them to be.


    But to kill the Emperorˇ­. That was where the trouble arose. There was no way she could just go in and slash a dagger through the man''s thick skin. If someone saw her, she''d be executed at once. No, she needed a better plan.


    And she was also aware that she needed to arrange a meeting along with herself present, Aspen Yelwynn, the princess and the black haired dude. Only then could all great minds come up with a smart way to push the fraud off his throne, which was built of lies.


    "Your Majesty," Yvonne said sing-songily as she knocked on the door to the Emperor''s private chambers and pushed the note in her gloves. She gave a deep breath as the doors were pulled open, and she stepped in with a radiant smile to mask her increasing worry.


    God, this was going to be hard.

 Chapter 125 - Almost A Sister

    I watched as Reynard strolled over to me, his hands deep in his pockets.


    "What happened?" I hissed as I pulled him aside. "Did she get it?"


    He gave me a smug smile as he kept walking on the street.


    "Hey!" I exclaimed. "Hey, tell me what happened! It was quite daft of you to suggest throwing the note to her window. What if the stone shattered her window? You''d be in big trouble then."


    "But I''m not." He chuckled. "Seems like she got it alright."


    I frowned as I pulled my sun hat down over my face, the one I had borrowed from Mama. It was a poor disguise, but not an unsuccessful one since nobody had even spared me a second glance.


    Reynard had suggested we go at once while the morning sun was still overhead and give Yvonne the message. Since the Emperor had increased security around the palace borders, there was no way Reynard could slide in and out like he usually did without getting caught.


    Even though I told him it was stupid to throw a note tied to a stone at her balcony amidst so much foot traffic, he had gone ahead and done it even so. But I had watched him long enough to know he knew what he was doing, so I didn''t protest further once I realized his mind wasn''t going to change.


    "What do you think she''ll do?" I asked as I moved aside, letting a couple pass through. "Will she realize it was us?"


    Reynard nodded decisively, determination in his eyes. "She''ll know. From what I remember of her, she seemed quite smart after all."


    I shrugged as I looked ahead. I hope it really was her who received the note, and not someone else since I didn''t want her to get in trouble because of us. And the note had been in my handwriting, so if she did her research, she''d know who it was.


    "What next?" I asked as I nudged him with my elbow.


    "Next..." Reynard raised his eyebrows as he searched the street. "I''d like to buy a nice jar of black dye for myself. And for you," he said and looked at me. I frowned.


    "Why me?" I asked as my hand went instinctively to my head.


    He chuckled. "It''s turning back purple, lest you haven''t noticed. I bet with another wash or two the dye will completely come off."


    I followed Reynard into a small stall where a man stood beside a chair, shaving a man''s beard with a long, sharp blade. There was a slightly cracked mirror in front of them and several jars of various shapes and sizes on a table under the mirror. Apparently, this was a makeshift barber stall and it was really fun to see how medieval people optimized their surroundings to the best of their abilities.


    "Hey there, Mister Piret!" Reynard exclaimed as he approached the man, who was bent in a most uncomfortable pose as he carefully shaved his client''s beard. Reynard''s loud voice made him flinch and he accidentally shaved off a large chunk of hair off the client''s face.


    "Aghh!" Mister Piret cried. "My masterpiece! ''Tis ruined!"


    "Brother, calm it!" the client screamed. "''Tis but a beard! It''ll grow back!"


    "My masterpiece!"


    "Calm!"


    Reynard and I stood awkwardly to the side while the two men exclaimed and shouted and comforted one another. Once the job was done and the money was exchanged, Reynard and I inched back into the scene.


    "Hey, Mister Piret."


    The man- middle aged, with grey streaked hair and large spectacles along with a cleanly shaped beard- gave us a dirty look as he cleaned his blade.


    "So it was you!" he hissed as he lifted the blade in the air and glared at us. "Your yell ruined my art, you fool!"


    "C-Calm the blade, Mister Piret," Reynard stuttered. "We come here to buy. I hope that''ll settle your rage."


    It was as if someone had bottled the fury inside the barber and had thrown it in the ocean. The blade went down at once and the frown disappeared without a  All was right again.


    "Yes, how may I help you?" the man said, smiling.


    Reynard gave me a glance and both of us struggled to stifle a laugh.


    "E-Erm- A jar of dye, if you please," Reynard muttered as he squeezed my arm, trying to keep himself from bursting. I, too, pursed my lips awkwardly, knowing a laugh could escape me any second.


    "What color?" Mister Piret asked as he turned his back to us and checked his jars. "I''m afraid I only have charcoal at the moment."


    "Great!" Reynard said. "I''ll take two."


    The money was exchanged and the jars were handed to us in a split of a moment.


    "Thanks very much," Reynard muttered as he inspected the white jar. "I see that you have increased the size of your containers."


    "I have, indeed," Mister Piret said as he pushed his spectacles up his nose bridge. "May I ask about the lady who accompanies you today, Gradral?"


    Reynard took a deep breath and looked at me questionably. I nodded, assuring him that it''d be fine.


    "She''s my sis- I mean, a friend."


    I stood, frozen to my spot. Was he just about to call me his sister? Wait, did I hear that right? He said ''sis'', right? My God...Oh my God! I stared wide eyed at the floor as the barber and Reynard talked some more, and waited till we were free of him.


    "Were you just about to call me your sister?" I asked once we were out on the street once again. "You were about to call me your sister."


    "No." He kept walking, looking straight ahead. "You must need your ears cleaned. The wax has been piling up, hasn''t it?"


    "Stop playing!" I laughed and nudged him with my elbow. "But tell me seriously this time. Were you actually going to introduce me as your sister?"


    It took him a while to respond, and he kept walking silently with his hands deep in his pockets. I watched him as he did so, letting him know that I wasn''t going to let him get away from me like this even if he kept this silent act up.


    Eventually, he sighed. "Well, yes. Happy now?" he muttered, still avoiding eye contacts with me. "Your annoying voice just got all up in my head at that moment, and I just got confused for a moment there."


    "Aw." I laughed. "Well, it did feel nice to hear it, though."


    For a second, I thought I saw a warm blush creep up Reynard''s face, but then he turned away so suddenly that I imagined if I even saw it. Even so, I smiled and walked happily the rest of the way till we found an available carriage and headed back to Ogden Cove.


    ?


    [Meanwhile, Back at the Palace]


    Yvonne walked elegantly over the gorgeous red carpet laid in His Majesty''s room, and looked nervously to her right and left, trying to figure out where the Emperor was. He was a man with a large figure, so it was hard for him to hide.


    "Is he not here?" Yvonne whispered to herself as she tried to calm her pounding heart, remembering the awful kiss experience. It gave her shivers to even think about him. "Your Majesty!"


    She called out his anime even so, despite knowing he was not present in his chambers. It was strange of him to leave her unattended when he had clearly called her to her chambers at breakfast this morning. Was it simply that he forgot?


    Idle, Yvonne walked over to his large bed and sat gracefully on the edge of it, wondering if she should wait or just head back out again. It was hard to enter the Emperor''s chambers without his permission, and she was only able to do so since all the guards had probably heard about it in the morning, since after all, news travelled fast in this small world.


    Carefully, Yvonne fingered the Emperor''s bedside table which was carved of dull gold, but still breathtaking nonetheless. Before she knew it, Yvonne was pulling the handle of the drawer and as smooth as oiled door hinges, it slid open. Yvonne looked inside, knowing that she was violating many rules at once, but she cared not since she was the Emperor''s favorite and escaping from any problems was in her palms.


    Inside the drawer was a brown, leather bound notebook, a gorgeous quill pen, an ink pot, a dagger with a carved wooden sheath, a handkerchief and an aromatic candle.


    Yvonne picked out the notebook and flipped it open at random, wondering if she''d find any secrets inside. Sadly, it was just accounts of the national treasury, some additions and some subtractions, and some reminders for himself, for example ordering the servants to add less sugar to the raspberry tarts, having his polished shoes placed before his bed every morning and ordering the whole palace to not disturb him while he slept unless it was an absolute emergency. Normal things like that.


    Yvonne flipped a few more pages before putting the notebook back in its place and pulling out the covered dagger. The wooden handle was carved with art of elephants and camels, something so carefully done that Yvonne gaped at it. She was about to pull out the blade when the door to the Emperor''s room smashed open and the man himself strode in.


    Hastily, Yvonne slid the dagger inside her sleeve and closed the drawer shut with her knee as she stood to her feet and smiled at the Emperor.


    "My dear!" she called sweetly. "I was waiting for you."


    The Emperor melted at the sight of her, and it was as if everything else was forgotten in the blink of an eye.. She was the only cynosure of his eyes, and Yvonne knew it very well as she went to greet the man she was soon to kill.

 Chapter 126 - A Request?

    [Meanwhile, Back at the Palace]


    Yvonne made sure the hidden dagger did not slip out of her glove as she ran into His Majesty''s arms with worthless glee and joy.


    "My dear, I missed you so very much," Yvonne sighed as she wrapped her arms around the Emperor''s thick neck. "Where were you?"


    The Emperor snaked his fingers around his mistress''s lower back and pulled her until her feet were barely grazing the floor. Yvonne tried to stay still despite her discomfort, but unable to do so, she slightly inched away from His Majesty''s embrace.


    "Oh, just...work..." the Emperor sighed as he slipped off his heavy robe with thick fur at the edges. Yvonne immediately took it from him and hung it on a hook by his massive closet. "You know how hard it has gotten for me lately, especially since your ladies'' tea party is overhead. When is it again?"


    Yvonne smiled. "Just in a couple days. Care to take a seat?" Yvonne wanted him seated as soon as possible, since it would mean that he won''t be getting up anytime soon. He preferred to stay where he was.


    Groaning, the Emperor headed to his bed with Yvonne in tow and flopped down on the mattress, which gave a long, dying creak under his weight. Yvonne stood nearby, just enough distance away that his arms won''t be able to reach her.


    "Shall I call a servant to get you some refreshments? Some fruit, perhaps?"


    The Emperor shook his head. "Your presence, my darling, is enough to free me of my fatigue. Come, sit next to me so I can be assured of your company."


    Yvonne forced a strained smile. She''d never go near the man if it was ever up to her, but now that it had come to this, she was afraid she''d have to comply.


    "Of course, Your Majesty," she said sweetly as she perched on the edge of his bed, while simultaneously pushing the dagger deeper into her glove. "May I ask what''s troubling you so early in the day?"


    The Emperor gave a frustrated groan.


    "I''ve just found out that my personal guard passed away a few days ago. Simon Gradral was his name. He was a strange man, too stone-faced, if not anything else. I never really knew what was going on with him, and he''d never give me a chance to know how he felt on the inner side. At times, even when I knew he should feel angry, or overwhelmed or grieved, he managed to keep a straight face with no signs of emotions. And it was rare that he ever expressed his personal opinions in matters concerning me, but then again that is exactly why I decided to keep him by my side. Well, until he died, that is."


    Yvonne looked into his grey-green eyes as she felt the hard edge of the dagger inside her lacey glove, wondering if it would prove to be of any use today.


    "Is that the only thing that''s troubling you, Your Majesty?"


    The Emperor stared at his beautiful mistress, and in a dazed state he wondered how he had landed such a goddess, such a blessing to his sight. And other than her physical beauty, she was attractive on the inside, too. Ever so caring and always asking after him.


    "No, my love," he murmured as he pulled her by the waist and made her lay next to him on his bed. Yvonne yelped at the sudden movement, her eyes wide in shock.


    As her face was pushed into his chest, Yvonne smelled a lot of different smells, and not all of them were pleasant. The mixed odors of spilled tea, sweat, faint morning perfume and fabric soap stung her nostrils as the Emperor stroked her carefully made hair, all of Stace''s hard work going to waste. Yvonne wondered if she''ll return to her chambers looking like she''s been in a hurricane.


    "Do you know how much I''ve come to love you lately, my dear?" the Emperor whispered into his mistress''s ear, and a shiver creeped down Yvonne''s back. She tried to keep a smile on her pink-stained lips, but it proved impossible as the foul stench of the Emperor''s breath made her inch away.


    "I-I do, Your Majesty," Yvonne muttered eventually, regaining her composure. It was the perfect moment to pull the dagger out of her glove and stab the Emperor''s heart with it, but too risky nonetheless. Both of them were stuck close together, and Yvonne could easily use it to her advantage. But would the blade even go through the heavy layers of fabric the Emperor  donned? Was it even sharp enough? She did not know, since she hadn''t had a chance to check earlier.


    Sighing, Yvonne decided that murdering the sinful Emperor would be a task for another time, when things were more convenient.


    "What are you thinking?" the Emperor asked as he nuzzled Yvonne''s face, his prickly moustache and beard grazing her soft cheeks with piercing pains. She winced.


    "I was thinking about our tea party," Yvonne said, not paying much thought to what came out of her mouth. "Have the others submitted their tasks already?"


    The Emperor thought about it and then shook his head.


    "Only a couple of them have proved that efficient," the Emperor said as he pushed a strand of hair behind Yvonne''s ear. "Yesenia and Lorelei have already done their tasks, while Odette and Elora have yet to do so. Enya is still in the infirmary while Christabel refuses to do anything at all. I don''t know what I''ll do about her. She worries me so. At this rate I''ll have to admit her to a mental rehabilitation institute of some sort, where she can recover."


    Yvonne pursed her lips. Poor Christabel. The princess''s funeral had left her emotionally scarred. Yvonne wished the best for her, and even wondered at times if she should reveal the actual secret to her. But then, no matter how much she trusted the lovely girl, Yvonne was not prepared to take any chances.


    "Your Majesty," Yvonne said as she slipped out of the bed and stood up while fixing her hair, "may I now know the actual reason why I was called to your chambers earlier at breakfast?"


    The Emperor sat up and looked at her in all her glory. Yvonne felt uncomfortable.


    "Have you already prepared your guest list? I''d like you to invite a specific person to the tea party."


    Yvonne arched an eyebrow. "May I know who that specific person is?"


    A smirk played upon the Emperor''s lips. "Elora''s mother, Duchess Ingrid Obsilia."


    Yvonne frowned at the strange request. Why ever would the Emperor want to invite Elora''s mother?


    "May I ask why am I to add her to my guest list?" Yvonne asked brazenly.


    The Emperor smiled at her boldness.


    "There''s a whole lot of bad blood between the two. Both the mother and daughter were never on good terms, and it''d be great fun to see the two clash again after years of separation."


    Yvonne''s smile wavered just a little at the words. My, the Emperor was a more vile man than she had thought him to be, and she knew now that she would have not a grain of remorse after killing him off, if the opportunity ever arises.


    Yvonne curtsied. "As you ask of me, Your Majesty, for your wish is my command. Would that be all?"


    "No," the Emperor said and tapped his lips. "I''d like a peck from my beloved."


    It was as if the bile in her stomach was rising to her throat and Yvonne fought the urge to gag at his disgusting request. Oh, how she dreaded moments like these. She had always wished to spend such loving times with someone she actually adored, but really this was not what she had in mind.


    Nonetheless, despite her inner feelings, Yvonne let nothing show on her serene face as she approached him and took his plump face in her hands before leaning in for a quick peck.


    "I-I''ll be off, then, Your Majesty!" Yvonne exclaimed as she curtsied and hurried off right after, not letting the Emperor get a word in edgeways.


    Once she had left, His Majesty fell about, laughing at his little mistress.


    ?


    Yvonne stormed to her room, the wood sheathed dagger clenched in her hand.


    Oh how she had almost put it to his throat in the moment she had held his face before leaning in. It would be a dream of hers to rid him of all life, so he could free her of this torture and of the world from such a vile creature.


    But alas, not all wishes came true the moment they arose. Things had to wait.


    Yvonne pushed the dagger back into her glove and opened the door to her room, where Stace lolled around lazily since her lady wasn''t there to keep an eye on her.


    "Your Highness!" Stace cried as she got off her lady''s bed, where she had been ''inspecting the springs'' and stood to attention. "You''re back already?"


    Yvonne didn''t bother answering since she was much too tired and went and collapsed on her bed. (The springs were fine, lol.)


    "I feel violated," Yvonne muttered hoarsely. "I hope I never have to come in such close proximity to him ever again."


    "Oh?" Stace said, suddenly interested as she flopped down on her lady''s bed without asking, since she knew Yvonne wouldn''t mind. "So my skin touched today, eh? And so early in the day, too. Can''t he have waited till it got dark?"


    Yvonne swatted at her and Stace laughed.


    "It wasn''t like that," Yvonne murmured as she rested her face against the cool duvet as memories of her recent meeting flickered through her mind.. "But God forbid another similar experience."

 Chapter 127 - Conflict

    Changing back into a comfortable dress and tying her hair elegantly in a bun at the back of her neck, Yvonne headed to the infirmary to check up on Enya''s recovery.


    Her heels tapped on the marble floors as she approached the large double doors marked ''The Infirmary''. Even before she had put a hand over the smooth brass handles, she knew something was going on inside.


    "Is that screaming I hear?" Yvonne whispered as she pulled open the doors and dashed inside to check up. Indeed, an unmistakable noise of screaming and scuffling penetrated the calm air inside the infirmary, and as Yvonne pulled aside the thick red curtain, a gasp escaped her pink-stained lips.


    "What is going on in here?" she cried, witnessing a maid trying to pull a hysterical Elora off of Enya, who was screaming in pain as Elora''s long nails dug into her skin.


    "Someone get her off of me!" Enya shrieked, kicking and flailing at Elora, who showed no signs of retreat. "Not my face! Get this crazy woman away from me!"


    It was absolute chaos as maids gathered around the predator and its prey, trying to distance the two, but to no avail as Elora kept her stance as well as her nails targeted at a very sick Enya.


    "You b*tch!" she screamed, her ruby eyes burning holes into whoever she set them on. "How dare you badmouth me! I''ve had enough of you! All of you!"


    Then her eyes landed on Yvonne, who stood open-mouthed near the sidelines as she witnessed the horrific scene.


    "You!" Elora screamed, pointing a sharp nail at her. "I hate you! How dare you entice His Majesty and throw filth all over my hard efforts! The throne was right before my eyes and I almost had my hands on it,"- Elora glared at her and bared her teeth at Yvonne in so horrific a manner that Yvonne staggered back, suddenly afraid- "but you ruined everything! You swooped right in and took it all from me, when it was always rightfully mine! Mine!"


    The whole while she screamed and jabbed her fingers in Yvonne''s direction, not a word escaped her lips. The fear filled look in her eyes was unmistakable, but it was but a mere act. In truth, the red-haired woman was entertained.


    Yvonne fought the urge to smirk as Elora continued making a big show of herself, and she was relaxed even though she knew of the danger this crazy woman posed on her, since she knew very well how to defend her honor as well as her body.


    "Are you happy?" Yvonne called provocatively from the other end of the hall. She had had enough. "You''re making a sh*t-show of yourself. If you keep humiliating yourself like that, you can say bye-bye to your delusions."


    Elora scoffed angrily.


    "How dare you!?" she screamed across the hall, letting go of Enya for a moment and advancing towards her. "You call me humiliating, but what about you? Everybody knows you''ve paved your way by seducing the Emperor with your looks and sleeping it off with him night after night. Who knew you were such a slut? Was losing your virginity to King Irvin just not enough for a whore like you?"


    Yvonne blinked, surprised. Then she laughed.


    "My, what a foolish attempt at a comeback," she muttered as she chuckled. "Just goes to show how narrow minded you are. Tell me something, Lady Obsilia." Yvonne folded her arms and raised her eyebrows. "Have you ever slept with the Emperor yourself?"


    Elora paused as a beet red color flushed her cheeks. Yvonne smirked.


    "And you say you had the Empress'' throne in the bag. What a joke." Yvonne scoffed. "Lady Obsilia, please don''t let your delusions affect your reality, since apparently,"- Yvonne paused- "you were never in reach of the throne anyways."


    Elora pursed her lips, and Yvonne was impressed at her for trying to control her rage. Had she realized how she was embarrassing herself?


    Enya cowered in fear and recoiled away in her bed as she clutched her maid, Garnet, who was just as scared as her lady was. There was a shocked silence in the infirmary for a while, and everybody thought it was over. Then suddenly, Elora charged at Yvonne in a fit of rage.


    Nobody actually processed what happened, but as the two women collided, there was a shriek and Elora fell to the floor, out cold.


    "What happened?" Garnet whispered, standing on her tip-toes to see the other side of the hall. Indeed, Elora''s lifeless body was unmistakable as she lay on the floor in a state of calm. There were no other sudden movements from her, and for a moment everyone wondered if she was dead.


    Then they all looked up at Yvonne, who surprisingly still stood to her feet, checking her nails to see if any one of them were cracked. It had been a while since she had put her self defense moves to the test, but she was pleasantly surprised that they still worked.


    "Is the lady dead?" a maid whispered to another, and a low murmur arose in the infirmary. "She looks like she''s dead. Is she, really?"


    Everyone cautiously approached to check if that really was the case. Yvonne, once she had made sure everything was still intact, looked up and saw all the present maids checking up on Elora.


    "Don''t worry," she said, her cold blue eyes flicking towards them. "She''s still alive. I just used my hands to knock her out. If you call a physician to check up, he''ll assure you that nothing''s even broken." Then Yvonne walked elegantly over to the other end of the hall to where Enya clutched her maid in fear.


    "Are you alright?" Yvonne said softly as she sat beside her. She took her arm gently, and Enya let her inspect it. Indeed, there were several scratch marks on the skin which glowed red. Even on Enya''s innocent face were marks resulting from Elora''s mindless flailing.


    "You poor thing," Yvonne mumbled. "Garnet, dear, please bring in some ointment to apply on her wounds. I hope nothing leaves a scar."


    Garnet curtsied at once and disappeared to bring what was desired. Yvonne turned back to Enya with a serious glint in her eyes.


    "Why did she attack you?"


    Enya frowned. "What?"


    Yvonne squeezed Enya''s hand and never once broke eye-contact. "Why did Elora attack you so suddenly like that?"


    Enya looked away. "You know why. She''s always been crazy."


    Yvonne shook her head. "She''s not crazy enough to initiate something like this, something that was sure to ruin her hard built reputation. What was the trigger?"


    Enya gulped as sweat broke out on her forehead. "She just charged at me."


    "You know that''s not true." Yvonne squeezed Enya''s hand again and she winced. "Tell me. What did you say to her?"


    "S-Stop!" Enya cried. "You''re hurting me. I said nothing to her."


    Yvonne arched an eyebrow. "Will you tell me yourself or should I ask Garnet?"


    Enya glared at Yvonne. "Keep her out of this."


    Yvonne shrugged. "Then you better tell me when I ask nicely. Elora said you badmouthed her, so you definitely must have said something to rile her up. What was it?"


    Enya glared at Yvonne for a few moments before looking away. Yvonne waited for her to speak, and when she eventually did, Yvonne couldn''t help but scoff.


    "She visited me today to wish me recovery." Enya rolled her eyes. "But then the witch started expressing how much I deserved what happened to me, and how could I just sit there and take it all in when I knew I was in this state precisely because of her own antics. Would you blame me for badmouthing her after all that? And then she struck me! She really struck me!"


    Yvonne scoffed. "For goodness'' sake, are you children? You should''ve known better." Then she wondered if she had been in Enya''s place, would she have held back herself? No, the least she would''ve done is throw daggers at her through words. And that''s exactly what Enya did, the bare minimum to get back at her.


    Yvonne sighed. "What are you going to do once she wakes up again?"


    Enya shrugged hopelessly. "I''m not sure. I''m not as brave as you. I''m weak. I can''t even defend myself like you did, Lady Sumner."


    Yvonne squeezed Enya''s hand again, fondly this time.


    "Learn to defend yourself, but don''t take it over the top to the point you ruin your own life." Yvonne smiled. "Not everything will go your way in life, and when it doesn''t, do everything you can to make sure it does. Do you understand?"


    Enya pursed her lips and nodded, tears trickling down her cheeks.


    "Okay," she muttered.


    Yvonne sighed and let go off her hand as Garnet returned with a first-aid kit in her arms. Yvonne nodded at her.


    "I''ll be off, then."


    Without even sparing a second glance to Enya, Yvonne walked away from her bed and walked across the hall to where the maids had neatly laid an unconscious Elora, who looked more at peace than ever.


    "She''ll wake up soon," Yvonne told the maid gathered around her bed. "If you want to wake her up earlier, just douse her head in water. But I doubt any of you would want it, so just leave her be."


    The maids nodded as Yvonne walked past them and through the parting between the heavy red curtains. Soon, she was on her way to her chambers again.


    She let out an amused chuckle. "This is much better than a theatrical performance, really.. Better than any show I''ve ever seen."

 Chapter 128 - Cut To The Quick

    "What happenedˇ­?" Elora mumbled as she aroused from her unconscious state. "Wait, where am I?"


    As Elora hoisted herself up on one elbow to get a better understanding of her surroundings, a sharp pain under her jaw made her gasp loudly.


    "My God, what is this?" she cried as she rubbed her tender jaw. "Why am I hurting in such an odd place?"


    Then she looked around and realized that she was lying on a bed near the front of the infirmary, a place where she had never expected to be. It was nighttime, and a single lit lantern was placed on her nightstand to illuminate her way once she awoke. The moon''s light shone in through the tall windows behind each bed in the line and with it''s aid, Elora stood up, making sure she was still decently presentable. Though, unfortunately, her hair was a mess and her nails were chipped.


    "Tsk!" she clicked her tongue as she fixed her hair and sighed. "I''m a mess. But why ever am I here?" Elora frowned as she tried to remember, and as the memories of this evening flooded back to her, her face contorted in a state of anger. The last thing she remembered was launching herself at that despicable red-head. But what happened afterwards? Was she the reason Elora had been in bed?


    "What did that b*tch do to me!?" Elora screamed at the dark hall. "What did she do!?"


    "Quiet." The sudden voice came from the other side of the infirmary. It was so low it would''ve gone unnoticed by her if she had not shut up at that very moment.


    Elora turned her head towards the direction of the sound, and from the darkness emerged a lean woman dressed in the convenient infirmary clothing. It was almost impossible to recognize Enya in her sick state, but she was still very much identifiable.


    "You!" Elora hissed as her rage came back to her. "I remember what you did, too! What is the problem with everyone? Why does everybody hate me? Why do you treat me like this?"


    "Quiet," Enya whispered once again. "It''s you who treats everyone like dirt. That is precisely why no one finds you attractive."


    Elora scoffed and screamed, "It''s you who isn''t attractive, you freak!"


    Enya gave a simple smile as she stood in the middle of the otherwise quiet infirmary.


    "Lady Obsilia," she said softly as she stared into Elora''s eyes, "whatever makes you think I''m looking to attract you?"


    Elora frowned. "Isn''t that what a mistress should be? Attractive?"


    Enya shrugged. "Maybe that''s what you think. The Emperor never took me in for my figure or my face, Lady Obsilia. Like he told you a few days ago, I have an exceptional voice, a talent, something of worth. But what about you? Is your face the only thing you have to provide? Have you no other thing of worth?"


    Elora seethed in her spot as she tried to think about something to say, but she had been left speechless. Indeed, it was the bitter truth. Her pretty face and curvy figure was all she had going on for her. Even though she was aware of her trash personality, what could she do when it had been embedded in her since birth? She had always been taught to treat the lowly with contempt and to suck up to the high nobles.


    It was all in her blood and she had never once seen to correct it. She knew she was despised because of her personality, but actually hearing about it to her faceˇ­ She felt almost crippled by it.


    "Shut up!" Elora screamed so loud that her throat caught up. "Shut up! Shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up! How dare you say I''m worthless save for my face? I-I have talent, too! I''m incredibly smart, yes I am!"


    "Is that so?" Enya asked as she arched an eyebrow. "Then what is a pillory?"


    Elora frowned. "I don''t know that."


    "Of course you don''t."


    Elora scoffed as she realized what Enya''s point had been.


    "Are you ridiculing me, you b*tch?" Elora hissed as she advanced towards the sick woman. "This is why I poisoned you with that fruit, because you deserve it, you little wretch! I''m gonna-"


    "Oops, careful what you say, my lady," Enya said as she stifled a laugh. "The Emperor might just be right behind you."


    A cold sweat broke out on Elora''s forehead. "Yeah, right," she muttered as she turned around to check. "As if that old fart will ever-"


    And indeed, there stood the Emperor in all his glory, looking down at his rude mistress with a look of amusement.


    "Y-Your Majesty!" Elora gasped and fell down into a deep curtsy. "I apologize for my rudeness, I was just swept away by the moment. I swear upon God, this rarely ever happens."


    "Is that so?" the Emperor asked in his gruff voice as he fixed the sleeves of his grand robe. "But I''ve witnessed the opposite, my dear, since your antics started the moment you arose. Perhaps, you need to stay at the infirmary for much longer, so that you can recover from this childish state of yours."


    "N-No, Your Majesty!" Elora cried as she fell to her knees and took a hold of His Majesty''s robes. "Please! Don''t do this to me! There''s no way I can stay in the same hell hole as this b*tch!" she cried and pointed to innocent Enya who rolled her eyes. Elora turned back to the Emperor. "I swear to never be rude again, Your Majesty, so please, just give me another chance! I''ll be the best mistress you can ever have." Elora stood up and leaned in real close to the Emperor in an attempt to seduce him. She twirled her hair around her finger and stared deep into his uninterested eyes. "I''ll do whatever you please..."


    The Emperor smiled and leaned in as well, till his mouth was perfectly aligned to his lovely mistress'' ear.


    "Perhaps you''re better off isolated," he whispered quietly.


    As he stood back, Elora''s eyes widened as she realized what he had meant.


    "No!" she screamed a she completely let go of herself and took a hold of the Emperor''s leg. "You can''t do this to me! Not when I''ve spent my whole life chasing after the Empress'' position."


    "But in my eyes," the Emperor leaned down and pinched her chin, "you weren''t even in the running, dear."


    With those harsh words, the Emperor pulled his leg roughly away from Elora''s grasp and walked away from her while she sat on the floor in a puddle of her own tears.


    "She is to be kept here until my say so," he bellowed to a guard as he left. Elora broke down into a full river as she heard the door bang behind him. Enya watched from the dark as the act carried out, and then retired to her bed at the very back of the hall where Garnet awaited her.


    It was indeed a heartbreaking scene for the dark haired woman as she cried about her fate, since she had been the one who had led it to this. She knew she hadn''t been a good person, but she hadn''t expected this from life, not after she had tried so hard for the throne. She had taken various classes to perfect her etiquettes; her parents had spent thousands on her just so she could look like a decent Empress; she had gone on harsh diets just to stay attractive, and was this what she got in the end? Rejection? Suffering? Agony?


    Was this the end of poor Elora Obsilia''s dreams?


    ?


    Yvonne waited outside the infirmary while the Emperor got done with his overdue business. Screams filled the corridor as the night progressed, and Yvonne laughed at Elora''s worthless apologies.


    Unmistakably, it had been her idea to lead the Emperor to the infirmary while telling him all about the woman''s antics. She had gone wayyy~ overboard, and Yvonne had had enough of her. If she could, she would''ve thrown her out herself, but that would just ruin her image.


    Yvonne waited while the Emperor gave the finishing blow, and it was all over.


    "All done?" Yvonne asked as the Emperor re-emerged from the infirmary with a scowl on his face.


    "You should''ve informed me earlier if she was being this problematic," he muttered as he started walking, Yvonne by his side. "And I was left speechless when she confessed to poisoning Enya. Who could have known!?"


    Yvonne scoffed softly. Lots of people, she thought. Almost everyone in the palace was aware of it. Almost.


    "What are you planning to do about her now?" Yvonne asked nonchalantly.


    The Emperor sighed. "Well for now, I''ll have her isolated at the infirmary till she bandages up things with Enya. At first, I wondered if she was better suited for the dungeons, but I don''t want to ruin relations with Duke Obsilia. He''s been a big aid to the economy recently, and I don''t want to lose that."


    Yvonne nodded. "Not bad." Not bad at all. But she wasn''t sure how Elora would fare after being humiliated like that. And there were no guarantees she wouldn''t do anything to Enya, still, since hatred like these never died.


    "I would love a relaxing bath now," the Emperor muttered. "Care to join me, my love?"


    A shiver ran down Yvonne''s body.


    "I''m afraid not, Your Majesty," she said sweetly, turning to him.. "I''m afraid I have other business to attend to."

 Chapter 129 - Revealing It All

    [Back at what was once Ogden Cove]


    I barely slept a blink that night. The whole night, I had thoughts of Reynard and me as siblings. Were there times when small Reynard used to pick me up in the past, when I was still a little baby? N-Not me, of course, the princess.


    Thinking of him being my brother was surprising and no really at the same time, since I had always thought of him as a dumb older brother willing to risk his life for me. Now that I come to think of it, why did he ever decide to help me in the first place?


    By the looks of it, he didn''t really know he could have been my brother, so it meant his intentions were different. Really, it remained a mystery to me. I mean, why in the world would he help someone who''s a stranger to him?


    There was a sudden knock on my door as I lay on my bed. Quickly I got up and fixed my bedhead.


    "Come in."


    The door creaked open and Mama''s face appeared in the doorway, eerily lit orange from below by a lit lantern. I gasped as I got up to help.


    "You know you''ve got weak knees!" I chastised as I lent her my arm. She took it and weakly walked to my bed before hopping up and sitting down. "Don''t just climb the stairs like that when you know it could be disastrous to your health. If you wanted to see me, you should''ve called for me from downstairs."


    Mama scrunched up her nose as she sniffed. "Enough. I didn''t want to disturb your slumber in case you were asleep already."


    I pursed my lips disappointedly as I flopped down beside her. Though it did please me a little that she cared so much about me so as not to wake me up, but really, she should''ve known better than to climb the tall fleet of stairs by herself so late at night when she knew she had frail knees.


    I sighed. "What if something happened to you and Sven and I were both deep asleep? Who''d come to your aid then?" I arched an eyebrow as I stared at her. "Would you cry for us all night? You know how heavy sleepers both of us are."


    Mama scoffed. "Alright, shut up already," she murmured as she broke my gaze. "Anyways, I came to talk about something really important with you but you made me forget, you fool. Give me a minute to remind myself. ˇ­ Ah! Right." She turned to look at me. "Where did you go with Rainy boy today?"


    I frowned. "Who? Reynard, you mean?"


    Mama nodded.


    "Um..." I looked away, hoping she wouldn''t notice the anxiousness in my eyes. "We just walked around the streets and talked. Nothing much. Just catching up."


    I chuckled, clearly not believing a word I said.


    "Why did I see the both of you hail a carriage, then?" she asked, challenging me with a thrust forward with her chin. "You know nothing goes unnoticed by me, do you? So why did you really leave? And for a good while, too! Were you out shopping? But then again, you never brought anything home, so I''m uncertain."


    While she rambled, I burst out laughing. She paused and looked at me, offended.


    "Stop worrying about me so much," I chuckled as I gathered myself. "We just..." I stared at my palms and blinked. "I just really wanted to see the palace once again."


    Mama frowned. Well, that was only partially true. Yes, I had wanted to see the palace in all it''s white glory once again, but that had never been my initial intent to leave. Reynard and I just wanted to pass on a note to Yvonne, and for that, Reynard had requested my presence in case something went wrong.


    He just didn''t want to be caught alone, and as his recently discovered sister, I just had to go along with him, to give him support if not to be an accomplice.


    "Do you know how dangerous that little stunt could have been?" Mama hissed as she shook me by the shoulders. "The security has gotten much thicker; what if you got found? What then? They would''ve killed you!"


    I sighed as I freed myself from her small hands. "Relax," I said. "We''re fine. See?"


    Mama clicked her tongue. "Tsk! That doesn''t make anything better. There''s a big ''what if'' in the room and I dare say you can not ignore it."


    I groaned and laid back on my bed, putting my arm over my eyes to shelter myself myself from the blazing lantern''s glow. For a few moments, I was calm and collected. But then the reality of the recent events hit me like a bulldozer once more and I slid my arm off my eyes and stared thoughtfully at the ceiling.


    "Mama Ruth," I muttered, my voice almost a whisper, "how would you react if someone told you Reynard was a prince?"


    The response came back in a form of deafening silence.


    Hastily, I sat back up and my eyes widened as I caught sight of the shocked expression on Mama''s face.


    "Reynard?" she whispered hoarsely. "A prince?" Then she started laughing. I looked upon her worriedly. "No, I don''t think it''s too much of an abnormal idea. Yes, the boy is surely capable. But lassie,"- Mama turned to look at me, her pupils large- "why would you ask such a strange question? Did something happen to trigger it?"


    I shook my head a little too quickly. "N-No, of course not. Anyways, how''re your knees?"


    She smirked. "Don''t try to stray away from the topic, now. Did you find something out? Why did you call Rainy boy a prince?"


    I shook my head, chuckling nervously. "I never called him anything. It''s probably all in your head."


    Mama flicked a finger at my forehead. "Don''t get snappy with me. Tell me the truth."


    I sighed and laid back down, an arm over my face to shield me from her unpredictable reaction.


    "So, um..." I took a deep breath and exhaled. "Reynard just showed up with a totally new hair color this morning, claiming that it was natural. Guess what? It was an unmistakable, vibrant purple."


    Mama made a face. "Strange choice of color."


    I shook my head. "You don''t understand. It wasn''t a choice. His black hair color washed off to reveal natural purple hair."


    Mama still didn''t understand. "So how does that make him a prince?"


    I sighed. "Since purple, or lilac hair like my own, is a common trait in the Royal Family of Klaern. It''s basically a fact."


    Mama nodded. "I know about that."


    "And the fact that he has naturally purple hair, which his mother had been trying to conceal with black dye implies that he''s not a normal commoner."


    "But how can Rainy boy be of royal origin when both of his parents have no such relations?"


    I stared at the ceiling, all the thoughts revolving around my head and then fitting together like a large jigsaw puzzle.


    "He''s adopted, Mama." I turned to look at her, and saw her trying very hard to make sense of this totally new concept. "And his sister''s story about how they found him matches perfectly with this dream I had. A dream about actual past events within my life."


    Mama massaged her nose bridge, an indication that she was either stressed or frustrated. "Wait. Wait a damn minute," she muttered. "You have dreams?"


    I chuckled. "Everyone has dreams."


    She groaned. "No. I don''t mean normal dreams? You have dreams about your childhood? Like, when you were a baby?"


    I nodded. "Only a couple times."


    There was a moment of shocked silence as Mama took it all in.


    "So if you''re so convinced that Rainy boy''s a prince, how come nobody''s ever heard of him?"


    I shrugged. "I don''t know. Maybe his birth was kept silent." In my dream, Reynard had appeared to be a really fragile child, with sunken cheeks and pronounced bones in the hand. Overall, he had a sickly look to him. Was that why this princess''s mother and father kept him hidden from the public? Because the boy was too weak?


    "What a daft thing to do," Mama muttered bitterly as she gazed at the dancing flame inside the lantern''s glass bulb. "Really lassie, I''m still having a hard time believing all of this."


    I smiled. I couldn''t blame her.


    "But if all of this is true, there''s still one question lingering at the back of my mind," Mama said. "Why is Rainy boy not at the palace?"


    Now this was a hard question. There was no way I could just straight-up tell Mama that the Emperor''s twin brother intended to kill the whole family except me, and fortunately, Reynard escaped his blade and sought shelter in the city. It would shock her for hours, days even.


    "He ran away," I said eventually.


    Mama arched an eyebrow and chuckled impressively. "A rebellious youth, eh?"


    I made a face and sat up, sighing. "You know what happened after that. Mr. and Mrs. Gradral took the little boy in and brought him up as their own. Eventually, the boy forgot about his childhood and merged into his new life."


    Mama smacked her lips and sighed. "Far-fetched, but seems about right. So if Rainy boy really is the prince, does this mean he''s your brother, too?"


    I smiled at the mere thought. "Yes."


    Mama suddenly tickled me under my arm and I wriggled away, laughing.


    "You lucky girl," she laughed. "Really, doesn''t it feel so great? I wish I had siblings so I could empathize with you on this."


    I grinned and took Mama''s hand. "It''s okay. You have me."


    She reciprocated my smile and squeezed my hand back.. "You can''t be any more righter."

 Chapter 130 - A Chat With God [I]

    We talked about a few more things last night till I got drowsy and almost fell asleep. I felt Mama''s frail fingers tuck me in as I took deep breaths. Soon, I heard her footsteps faint away as she left and the clack-clack-clack of her feet as she trotted downstairs to her own room.


    After letting all of my thoughts and secrets out, I felt so much more comfortable, and sleep came to me much easier than before. Before I knew it, I was dreaming once again.


    One moment I was lying asleep on my bed, and the other, I was thrown into a sudden void of eternal darkness. Not a thing in sight, and I walked endlessly for a while, trying to find something of use. At the time, I had not known it was a dream, but everything seemed very much real.


    "Hello?" I called out hopelessly, hearing the echo of my own voice. "Where am I? Is anyone there?"


    Again, I received not a single reply. It was dark, and I might as well have been blind because it was all the same everywhere I looked. A fear instilled inside me of the unknown, and I suddenly wondered if I really had gone blind all of a sudden. In a panic, I touched my eyes and looked at my hands afterwards, hoping I''d see something, but there was nothing.


    "Hello?" I called again, the fear inside me growing by the second. Was there really no escape? Would this be my end?


    All of a sudden, there was a dull glow of a light behind and the hope came rushing back to me as I turned around and ran towards it. It was a mere orange door in the endless void, but my, didn''t it help? But as I progressively stepped towards the door, the dot came towards me, too, and after a few more steps, I was sure that this was a person carrying a lantern.


    Even so, I was ecstatic and I broke into a full run to whoever had appeared as an angel to save me from this perturbing situation. As I got closer, the unique features of this person became clearer and clearer, and I frowned since it was someone I had never seen.


    A middle-aged woman dressed in a long, straight green gown with sparkles from the top to the bottom walked elegantly towards me as if modelling was her specialty in heeled shoes concealed by her extremely long dress. Her hair that hung down to the floor was fair to such an extent it seemed almost white, and so was her skin, as white as the early window snow. She wasn''t wearing any makeup, but then again she didn''t need to, since she was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen.


    Her immense beauty made me slow down till I stood rooted to my spot. I had thought that Yvonne was the definition of a goddess, but this woman seemed like she could be an actual female deity.


    "My, my," she muttered as she eyed me with interest, her extremely light golden eyes moving slowly from my head to my toes. I, too, looked down at my own self and was surprised to see that I was wearing a mere white dress with nothing to indicate it belonged even to the most lowliest of commoners. My hair was free from all restraints and hung around me in their original lilac glory and I wondered how it had some to that. My feet were bare, and dare I say, very cold.


    "W-Who are you?" I said suddenly as I got my tongue back. I gulped. "What is this place?"


    The woman smiled, and I knew my mouth was agape at that moment.


    "Let''s start with formalities, shall we?" she said softly as she clicked her fingers and two chairs appeared out of thin air. I gasped in utter surprise, but the woman seemed bored of it as she went ahead and sat herself down. I, too, following her lead, sat on the chair opposite hers and she waited till I was comfortable.


    "So," she began as she clapped her hand and a tea table appeared between us and I watched half in horror and half in pure amazement as she casually carried on pouring herself and me some tea from a flowery teapot into small gold rimmed tea cups.


    "Sugar?" she asked. I nodded and she dropped in a cube of sugar and handed me the fragrant cup of tea. Hesitantly, I took it and felt the warmth around my palms, which was ever so pleasant.


    "Who are you?" I said, scared. There was no way I could bring myself to drink tea that appeared out of god-knows-where.


    The woman took a  small sip of her tea and made a face. "Oof, this was supposed to be rose flavored, why is it green? I hate green tea. My magic''s getting a tad bit rough around the edges, is it? Give it here," she said and took my cup of tea before making it disappear and having a new set of tea appear in front of her.


    "Much better." She sighed after taking a sip of this new brew. Then she looked up at me and it was as if she hadn''t even noticed I was there. "Oh! Right. My name,"- She put an elegant hand over her collar bone, indicating to herself- "is Astrid."


    "Just Astrid?"


    The woman smiled. "Just Astrid. For now."


    I nodded and leaned back in my chair. "My name-" I paused, contemplating which name I should tell her. "My name is Ashli. Ashli Rivers."


    The woman chuckled as she stirred a cube of sugar in her tea. "No need to conceal the obvious from me, dear Cynthia. Or should I say..." Her eyelids flickered upward and she stared intensely with her almost clear eyes at me, making me break out into a cold sweat. "...Seonhee?"


    I gasped and the cup of tea fell to the floor from my grasp.


    "Ah..." Astrid sighed and with a flick of her finger, the broken shards of china disappeared from my feet. But I didn''t even notice. I was much too shocked to move.


    "H-How did you know?" I whispered, my eyes wide.


    "How did I know what?" she asked as she, too, leaned back and drank her tea snugly. "That your name is Seonhee?"


    I felt my head nod. Astrid shrugged.


    "I always knew," she muttered as she sipped her tea again. "There''s nothing that goes unnoticed by me, and I''m omniscient to all things. I''m God, love."


    I sat there, blinking. "Y-You''re God?" The woman nodded. I frowned. "But isn''t God supposed to be a man?"


    The woman scoffed before putting an arm over the back of her chair and sighing.


    "I don''t know how it came about that God''s a male. I don''t have any gender. I change forms as I please." Astrid pointed at herself and smirked. "Humans are so tiresome, saying I''m a man and putting me on par with themselves. How pathetic. Sometimes I wondered why I even bothered to create them. I guess I was bored, then."


    I gulped. Wait, was this real? Was this woman, although beautiful, really an actual God? I stared long and hard at the fair lady, and it slowly dawned upon me that I was dreaming.


    "Wait, there''s no way this is real," I said, chuckling hysterically as I stood up. "I''m dreaming! One can surely not believe a dream."


    Astrid was unfazed as she sipped her tea.


    "Well," she said as she put the teacup down and looked up at me with those intense eyes, "this is not a normal dream, nor is it a mere lucid dream. At the moment-" Astrid clicked her fingers and a large screen appeared a couple feet to my side, a tad bit smaller than a cinema screen. After a few static buzzes, the screen groaned to life and a picture appeared on it in full color. At first, I struggled to recognize who the person laying on the small bed was, but then I took a closer look and gasped.


    It was a picture, or dare I say, a video, of me lying asleep in my room. I slept serenely, and not an inch of my body moved to indicate any life in me. The only proof that I was staring at the playing video were the curtains as they fluttered due to the small crack in the window.


    "You aren''t in your body right now," Astrid whispered. "And nor is this a dream. It''s just a space I created where your soul and I could have a little chat."


    I gulped, still staring at myself.


    "That''s you right there, Seonhee," Astrid said as she stared at the screen. "Don''t you look beautiful in your new body? How did transmigrating for the first time feel?"


    I choked up on my words as I turned to look at her.


    "I..." I gulped under the pressure. This was the first time I was sharing this information with someone else. I had kept it in for so many months, and I almost burst out at the opportunity to let it all out. "I don''t know if I feel happy or sad about it. It''s something you read about in story books or comics, and never did I once consider the possibility of it happening to me. But in the end, I think I''m enjoying the experience."


    Astrid nodded as she sipped her tea. "But," she said, flicking her fingers and making the screen disappear from my sight, "it does come with its limitations. Isn''t that right?"


    I pursed my lips in a straight line and sat down. "I guess."


    "Well, I''d love to catch up!" Astrid said, clapping her hands once. "But first, I have something to ask."


    I waited for her to quiz me, and I was surprised at her choice of question

 Chapter 131 - A Chat With God [II]

    "You''re asking me that?" I scoffed incredulously.


    Astrid shrugged in her seat and flipped her long hair behind her shoulders, indifferent to my pure shock.


    "Up to you to answer." She smiled, her eyes staring intently into mine.


    I gulped. God had just asked me if I had found love in this life, since I was void of it in my last one. How do I tell her that I wasn''t mingled in some romance story like she expected me to be?


    "Indeed, it is right." I sighed, giving up. "I have found love, but not quite in the way you might think."


    Astrid raised an eyebrow.


    "I found love not in any way romantic or sexual," I said as I stared down at my hands, "but I found warm love. Love you receive from people who actually care about you. Good people, kind people..." I felt tears drip down my cheeks as I came to realize how lucky I really was to have found love. It''s true that I wasn''t romantically interested in either any man or woman, but I didn''t need to, when all these thoughtful people kept on doting on me.


    "Why in the world are you crying?" Astrid exclaimed as she sat straight, alert. "Have I said something to upset you?"


    I shook my head, flustered as I wiped my tears.


    "No," I sniffed. "It''s just that I''ve always thought of my life in this fictional world similar to a curse. Days I wondered if God had punished me for any of my wrongdoings, but I''m just now realizing how much of a blessing it had been."


    A fond smile appeared on Astrid''s face as I spoke in small sobs.


    "You''re welcome," she said as she poured herself another cup of tea. "I reincarnate souls not fit for their own worlds, and that''s exactly what I did to yours after it passed away."


    I stopped crying momentarily and stared at Astrid in puzzlement as I wondered about what she had just said.


    "You reincarnate souls that pass away?" I asked as I wiped clean my tears. This wasn''t time for tearing up. I had questions to ask. "Does that mean I''m actually dead back in my previous world?"


    Astrid nodded. "Of course."


    My eyes widened as I realized what that meant. "B-But what happened to Juwon? Is he alright?"


    Astrid chuckled as she tried to take a sip of her tea, and ended up spilling some on her emerald colored dress. But with a flick of her wrist, the stain vanished before my eyes, leaving me unsurprised by now.


    "Your brother," Astrid started as she put her cup down, "is in a state anyone''s sibling would be after the passing away of their loved sister."


    I smiled sadly. "I wasn''t loved. At least, I don''t think so."


    Astrid shrugged. "Your brother loved you very much, even if he failed to show it. I created him as a boy with some mental problems, not because I wanted to inflict pain on the little boy, but because I wanted to see how he dealt with the issue. Lucky for him, you were always there to help him whenever things got hard. Would you like to see how he''s doing now?"


    I nodded eagerly, sitting at the edge of my seat. "I would like that very much."


    With another click of her fingers, Astrid made the previous screen reappear and this time, instead of the footage of me sleeping peacefully in my bed, I saw another very familiar setting.


    The grey carpet...the one window with the broken blinds...the dead plant in the corner...the stained couchesˇ­ Everything in our living room was the same as the day I left. Nothing, not even the flower vase in the middle of the table with the droopy looking carnations was out of place,


    "That''s your brother right there." Astrid pointed to the little boy that sat at the table with his head low into a textbook. "And that-" She pointed at the woman sitting beside him, "-is your second eldest sister. Her name was Seonghee, if I remember correctly."


    I nodded. "Seonghee Lim."


    Seonghee sat beside Juwon on the table, jabbing fingers at his textbook while she shouted at him.


    "You useless boy!" she exclaimed, frustrated at him. The voice that escaped from the screen was slightly static, but otherwise perfectly audible. "I don''t know how Seonhee ever taught you, but really, she must''ve been a miracle worker."


    I flinched at the mention of my real name, and it took me a minute to regain my posture. Even without turning to look at her, I knew Astrid was watching me closely.


    "12 times 2 is 24, you idiot! 24! How come you keep writing 20?" Seonghee sighed. "At this rate, you''ll fail school for sure. At times like this, I sure do wish Seonhee was still here."


    I gulped in anticipation, wondering what Juwon would say. In truth, I expected him to remain silent and take all the abuse in without protest, but what he did next left me speechless.


    "You''re the useless one!" he cried, banging his fists on the table. "If you had even a grain of Seonhee''s brains, I would''ve been able to understand what you''re trying to say. How come you always blame it on me when you can''t even teach me properly?"


    I knew my mouth was wide open, and I made no effort to close it.


    "H-H-He''s talking!" I cried, happy and sad at the same time. "It''s the first time I''ve really heard him talk."


    Astrid chuckled. "Your death must''ve really affected him. I guess he realized the need to stand up for himself when no one around him was willing to do so anymore."


    A fresh flow of waterworks escaped my eyes as I looked at my little brother. I had expected him to go into a full state of depression after I left, but to think my passing away had done him more good than bad made me really relieved, and for the first time, I was truly free of tension.


    "He''ll be okay..." I sniffed. "Yeah, he''ll be okay on his own."


    Astrid turned the screen off and we turned to each other once again. She offered me a napkin to wipe my tears with and I took it gratefully.


    "Happy now?" she asked, interlacing her fingers on the table. "At the end of the day, everything was for the best."


    "Thank you, Astrid. Really, thank you very much."


    She smiled. "Just doing God''s work. Now!" She leaned in and looked at me, the tone of her voice changing completely. "How have you thought about saving yourself from your tragic ending?"


    It took me a minute to understand what she meant, and when I did, I sobered up in moments.


    "I guess we have no choice about killing the Emperor. Say, God,"- I frowned- "is there any other option?"


    Astrid laughed sing-songily. "My, how bold of you. I''m afraid the man''s days are already numbered, and I''d love to have a word with him after he passes away. We''re due for a nice little chat."


    I frowned, confused. "But Astrid," I started, "he''s a fictional character. He isn''t real. Would his sins really count as his own, since they were always predetermined?"


    Astrid smiled eerily, and for a moment, the lights around us dulled to almost a faint glow.


    "The man''s vile deeds were always his own to pick and choose. The story your little friend read in the real world was based on an account of a person who had lived their past life in your current world. It''s rare that I mess these things up, but I guess it happens."


    I stared at her. "You sent me in the past, then?"


    Astrid nodded and smirked.. "I need you to fix things."

 Chapter 132 - A Chat With God [III]

    "Why me?" I asked, finally gathering up the courage. "Why was I the one who had to shoulder such a difficult task when it could''ve been anyone else?"


    Astrid stared at me for a while, as if contemplating something. Eventually, she sighed.


    "Sometimes," said she, "I reincarnate souls to other worlds without putting much thought into it, and maybe that''s why so many worlds get struck with disaster. Your world, Wisteria, specifically,"- Astrid stared off into the distance- "I wanted to save it from its miserable future."


    "But you''re literally God!" I blurted out. "Can''t you just flick your fingers and make everything right?"


    Astrid smiled, a sad mist enveloping her glassy pupils. "I wish it were that easy."


    I sat back, disappointed.


    "But every time I reincarnate a soul to take on the job," she continued nonetheless, "they somehow manage to mess things up. The princess''s role in this story is key, and one must know how to deal with the advancing troubles that come along with the otherwise enchanting title. Still, no matter how strong headed the person is, the princess always ends up dying and the empire declines towards absolute destruction, just like it has since eons." Astrid paused. "But this time, the flow of the original story has somehow taken an unexpected turn due to a sudden intruder. Can you guess who I''m talking about?"


    I nodded, a smile coming to my lips. "Reynard?"


    Astrid chuckled. "You really do get on well, don''t you? Yes, it is indeed that mischievous boy. No wonder things are going so smoothly this time."


    I frowned, wondering. "Is his appearance not a typical one?"


    "Not at all. I have to look into the trigger for his sudden intrusion, but I''m sure it''s nothing big. Anyways, I hope you do well. Don''t let anyone kill you, since that''s how the story usually ends."


    I laughed awkwardly. "I''ll pay more attention to that."


    We had not much left to talk about, and I still couldn''t fathom the fact that I was really seated opposite to God themself, so the long silence that followed was deafening.


    "Say, Astridˇ­" I started eventually as a thought aroused in me. "What happens if I die in this world?"


    There was a pause, as if time had stopped flowing in the void. Astrid stared at me, her face the epitome of calm, yet tense.


    "What do you think will happen?" she asked, leaning in eerily. "You''ll die, of course. Is that not what you expected?"


    I gulped. "But won''t I be reincarnated again?"


    Astrid smiled. "My darling, everyone always gets one more chance." With that, she leaned away, leaving me with so many more questions than answers. "I think it''s time we part ways. I had a nice time chatting with you, though I see you''ve let my special blend of tea go to waste." I glanced down at my now cold cup of tea. "But alas, ''tis but a trivial matter." -Astrid held my face in her hands and stared intently into my eyes, and I felt unable to move, my eyes transfixed on hers. Strangely, scarily, it felt like deja vu. "See you soon, Seonhee dearest," Astrid whispered before letting go.


    And just like that, the divine beauty disappeared before my very eyes and took with themselves everything that existed amidst the black nothingness. My surrounding started dissolving in itself until the void turned into a shining white light that enveloped me whole. It was so bright that I had to clench my eyes to keep myself from hurtingˇ­


    ...but then I woke up.


    I sat up, blinking.


    For a moment, I wondered where I was, but soon realized I had woken up back in Mama Ruth''s inn. The sun had risen without me noticing and the early morning light flooded my room through the one window at the very foot of my bed.


    I got out of the covers and stretched, reminiscing my earlier interaction and wondering where to go from here onwards.


    ?


    I was cleaning the landing when there was a knock on the front door before Reynard burst in, full of enthusiasm and vigor.


    "I''ve found it!" he declared, waving a piece of paper in the air. "I''ve found a way we can sneak into the palace!"


    I let my broom drop to the floor.


    "You''re kidding." Hurriedly, I ran up to him and tried to snatch that paper from his hands. "What is that? Hey! What have you discovered?"


    Reynard smiled, looking upon me with fond delight. "Now, now, no need to get so excited. I was only taking a stroll when I saw an advert from the palace saying that they are in need of maids for hire."


    "Maids for hire?" I exclaimed, finally snatching the paper from his grasp and quickly scanning it. Indeed, it was a handwritten flier with all those fancy words, which relayed that the palace was indeed short of female staff.


    "Wait," I said, looking up at Reynard, whose face was red with excitement, "are you implying that I sneak into the palace as a maid? Are you serious?"


    He laughed. "Think about it! We don''t know if the red-head lady would be able to actually kill the Emperor, so we might as well do it ourselves. By the looks of it, there hasn''t been any news yet."


    I scoffed, scrunching the paper up in my hand. "That''s crazy, Reynard. There''s no way this will work. I haven''t killed anyone before, and there''s certainly no way I can do it now."


    "Calm down," he sighed. "No need to get so riled up over a mere thought."


    "It''s just absurd! Can you picture me killing the Emperor?" I pointed at myself incredulously.


    Reynard stared at my face for a minute before nodding. I scoffed, turning away.


    "No, wait!" he said desperately, following me. "Don''t you want to take revenge for what he did to your parents? To our parents? For all the lies he has fed you with all this time?"


    I hesitated. My parentsˇ­ How could I tell him that the people who died by the Barion''s hands weren''t people I''ve ever even met before. This world is a world of fiction. The peopleˇ­ I paused again as Astrid''s words came to mind.


    ''The story your little friend read in the real world was based on an account of a person who had lived their past life in your current world.'' That was what God had said.


    So this world isn''t fictitious. I had been wrong the whole time.


    My face took on a grave expression as I realized he had killed real people, and had driven a real little boy away from his house. What a vile creature.


    I scoffed.


    "Fine, I''ll do it."


    "Will you really?" Reynard asked, following me upstairs as I stomped to my room, adrenaline flowing through my body. "Are you sure you can do it? As your brother, I can''t help but worry."


    "Don''t fret," I said before pushing open the door to my room.. "I want him gone just as much as you do."

 Chapter 133 - Familiar Settings

    I clamped my hands as I glanced up at the towering wall.


    The palace seemed darker than usual, more ominous than I last remembered. I flinched as the girl in front of me walked forward and entered through the large palace doors, and I trembled at the thought that my turn would be next. I gulped and looked down at my plain dress which I had put together from part of Zoie''s maid skirt which she had lent to me before, and one of the blouses Reynard had brought me. I topped the look off with a wide brimmed hat under which my swept up hair- which had now become a strange mixture of lilac and fading black- seemed almost unnoticeable.


    "Nervous?" asked the guard in front of me as he held onto a long, pointy looking spear with the Klaern family emblem at the head of the blade, the one which looked like a fierce lion.


    I nodded, ducking my head.


    "Don''t worry, the appraisers aren''t very picky when it comes to choosing maids, since the general work is very simple. I don''t doubt that you''ll get through, or in fact anyone here. Anyways, my name is Richt."


    I looked up at the guard who smiled warmly at me, and it made me wonder why he was being so frank. He had honey-blonde hair and a youthful face which was deeply accented by a set of warm, brown eyes. I noticed he had a lot of moles on his face, but I dare say that his bandaged cheek was much more noticeable.


    "What happened to yourˇ­" I vaguely pointed at his face and he bent his eyebrows in confusion. "The bandage, I mean."


    "Ahh!" He laughed then. "I''m really clumsy, you see, so I accidentally scraped the side of my face with my spear. It was a big ordeal to go through the whole disinfecting procedure and it might leave a scar according to the doctor, but just thinking about it makes me excited. I''ve always wanted a scar."


    I smiled and ducked my head back down. "Good for you. Are you new, too?"


    He chuckled. "Could you tell? Yes, I came in just a month ago when they started recruiting."


    I frowned in thought. "Does the palace hire guards often?"


    Richt shook his head. "I don''t think so. Though there''s been word going around that a fresh batch of kitchen staff will be selected in about a week if somebody you know is interested. The pay''s not good though, and the hours are worse."


    I smiled. "Thank you for the information; I''ll keep that in mind."


    Just then a maid pushed open the door and looked at the next person in line, which was me.


    "Follow me," she said haughtily, as if she had better things to do.


    I curtsied slightly at the kind guard and walked inside. The familiar smell of the palace enveloped me almost instantly, and I was hit with a wave of distinct memories. My feet felt so natural on the long red carpet stretched before us as I followed the maid to wherever she was taking me. I gazed dreamily at the high ceilings set with chandeliers made of crystals and delicate glass, and rich satin curtains that drooped over tall glass windows. Paintings of notable men and women hung all around, encased in golden frames and yet more glass.


    Soon, we stopped at a large door which I did not recognize, and before any one of us could knock, a girl who I realized as the one who had standing before me in the line earlier bursted out, her face streaked with tears. She gave both of us one look and broke down again before running away.


    "What was that?" I whispered to myself, but it seemed that the haughty maid heard because she turned around and smirked.


    "What?" She laughed. "She got rejected. It''s not all fun and games if that''s what you came here thinking. Now get in there."


    I frowned as the nameless maid nudged me and eventually I headed inside. It was most unpolite to leave my judges waiting.


    The room consisted of a long table near the farthest wall, and a large patterned carpet stretched out before me. I looked around and noticed that the room was lined with motionless guards who eyed me with wariness. I gulped and began walking forward to where the long table was led out, so that I could greet the appraisers.


    "Greetings, child," said a sharp voice, belonging to a woman.


    I curtsied at the prompt, but remained silent.


    "Rise," said the lady, so I did. I glanced at the person who sat at the head of the table, a woman I didn''t recognize. She had sharp black hair which was tied at the back of her hair, and she was dressed in a formal uniform. On either side sat an assistant, one of which I recognized to be my previous maid, Martha.


    A wave of sorrow enveloped me as I gazed at the woman who I once believed to be my very mother-figure, but I had to look away in haste since I feared being recognized.


    My only goal today was to get hired, I reminded myself.


    "So!" began the appraiser. "Your name isˇ­" She glanced down at a piece of parchment in her hand. "...Ashli Rivers?" I nodded. "Lovely. I am Mayeth Valtris and I''ll be doing a formal assessment of your capabilities today, and whether they suit the palace standard. What kind of task are you most proficient in?"


    I glanced at Martha who stared poker-faced at me.


    "Cleaning, madam."


    Beatrice raised a sharp eyebrow. "Rowyn!" she called to a nearby guard. "Bring us a cup from the trophy room." She stared straight at my face. "And make sure it''s very filthy."


    The guard bowed and left the room at once. Soon, he returned with a large, golden trophy cup in his hand, one which would look even bigger in my small palms.


    "Good," said Madam Valtris. "Give it to the child."


    The guard adhered to her command and thrusted the cup at me. It was heavier than I had expected, which made me stagger under its weight.


    "Stand straight!" the woman bellowed. "Now, tell me how you would proceed to polish a cup of this sort, made of pure gold and embellished with gems of the most precious kinds?"


    She couldn''t be serious. I''d never polished a trophy in my life! How was I supposed to know? I''d never even held a real trophy before, except for the cheap, plastic sort Jieum won at a school competition.


    "What are you waiting for?" Madame Valtris barked sharply.


    My hands trembled in her presence. "I-I-Iˇ­"


    She narrowed her eyes. "Are you even aware of the responsibilities that come with the post you''re mindlessly applying for, or are you just desperate to get a job?"


    I pursed my lips.


    "Well?" she prompted. "I don''t like it when I don''t get an immediate response to my question."


    "I''m not mindlessly applying," I said hesitantly. "But truth be told, madam, I''ve never cleaned a trophy in my life. I believe cleaning windows and dusting the floor will be much more suitable for me."


    There was a pause. "Miss Rivers," said she, staring me down in a way which made me quiver in my spot, "you disappoint me." I gripped the trophy cup in my hand and ducked my face in unexplainable embarrassment. "You are an absolute failure of a woman. You were asked to do one thing, to clean and polish a simple cup, yet you failed to do so. There''s no place for incapable children like you at the palace."


    For some reason, I suddenly understood why the girl had rushed out in tears earlier. It was obvious once one was against this brute of a woman.


    Madame Valtris clicked her tongue at me and was about to lash out once again when Martha spoke up.


    "I think that''s enough, Mayeth, give it a rest. She is but a child." I looked up and Martha was studying me with a light frown in her expression, though it seemed more as if she was thinking about something rather than disapproving of me. "I''m sure the girl is adept at tasks other than simply polishing cups."


    "Oh?" said Madam Valtris, cocking an eyebrow. "Well, how do you work that out?"


    Martha sighed. "Must you be so unkind, Mayeth?" Madam Valtris remained tight-lipped. "If we keep rejecting every applicant, none of this would be worth it. Say, whatwasyournameˇ­" Martha turned her eyes to me. "Ah, Ashli. Dear, can you sweep under the carpets and wipe down window sills?" I nodded slowly; Martha smiled. "Great, then you can start tomorrow. I hope that''s fine, Mayeth? She seems to hold promiseˇ­"


    It was a while before Martha managed to convince Madam Valtris to hire me, but I sure was glad I was sent out after no more than a few last words of instruction.


    "You may collect your uniform from me when you arrive tomorrow; I''ll have it steamed. Please find your way outside and will you kindly ask the person next in line to come meet us?"


    Once I was out of the room, I realized how stuffy it had been in there. I took a deep sigh of relief and took my time walking back to the palace entrance where the line had dwindled to only the last few applicants.


    "Did you make it?" said a voice behind me while I asked the person next in line to go on ahead, and I turned around to see the kind guard Richt looking at me in anticipation.


    I gave a sorrowful sigh. "I''m afraidˇ­" I muttered, and Richt grimaced. "I''m afraid I may have secured the job."


    It took a minute for Richt to understand and then he laughed.


    "You scared me!" he exclaimed. "But what are you afraid of?"


    I shrugged. "Working for the emperor is a bitˇ­"


    "He''s a nice guy." I looked up and saw that Richt was serious. "At least I think he is. I''ve only ever seen him once in person but he never gave me reason to believe he was a fearful man."


    I sighed and patted Richt on the shoulder. "Thank you for the encouragement." But he knew not of what the Emperor kept behind a veil of ignorance, and I wish he never would, too. It was a most horrible thing the man did, and now he must grovel at my feet till someone finishes him.


    I hummed a merry tune all the way out the palace where I took Reynard''s hand. We two made our way back to the little inn so I could catch some rest before preparing for what was to come by and by.


    Tomorrow was going to be an interesting day.