Summary: She calls me Jerrold the Brat, the Prince of brats, but I know I'm not a brat. I'm a wimp. I'm afraid to show her who I really am, to face rejection. So I hide behind this fake face, Jerrold the Brat. That way, I can tell myself that the person she really hates isn't me.

But deep down, I know it really is.

.O. !O! !"O"! !O! .O.

Disclaimer: Okay if you really think I own this, then I'm flattered. But no matter how flattered I am, I'll still have to put you into an insane asylum, but don't worry, I'll bring you muffin's every day!

-----------------------The Thing With Tomorrow is that it Never Comes-----------------------

"Jerrold?" It was my father, riding calmly beside me. "I hear you and Lady Daria are having some disagreements."

I remained silent.

"You know, if you feel that you made the wrong choice, you can always break the betrothal. You are still young, and I'm sure you can find another girl." Father smiled. "You are, after all, the Prince. You could have any girl you wanted"

Didn't he understand? I didn't want another girl; I wanted Daria. Yes, I was a prince. I could have almost anything I wanted. Why was it, then, that I wanted her? The one girl I couldn't have. I sighed, refusing to answer.

Father looked at me, concern filling his eyes. "You need not feel you have an obligation to Lady Daria. I know you might feel guilty about refusing her, but you cannot spend the rest of your life pretending to love someone you don't. It would hurt both of you." He smiled, "You can always look for a girl during your stay in Ayortha. Maybe one of them could steal your heart. Son, I want you to be happy. The entire kingdom wants you to be happy. I'm sure Lady Daria would want that too. Just remember, your choices are open."

With a gentle flick of the reins, Father moved ahead, leaving me to my treacherous thoughts.

Father didn't know how right he was. He was right, yet wrong at the same time. Yes, I could not spend my life pretending to love a maiden when I didn't. That was why I couldn't let Daria go. She was my one chance at happiness. My one and only chance.

But how could I be happy, knowing that she was unhappy? Knowing that she didn't love me, that she hated me? Did I really think I had a chance with her? Argh! She seemed to like me before, when we first met. Yes, at that time she did indeed like me, and maybe, with time, she could have loved me. But that was before the Incident. Yes, Incident is capitalized. For that is how I think of it, an event that changed my entire life, that washed away my happiness.

=The Incident=

I could feel her trembling, feel her fear. Gently, I put an arm around her, seeking to comfort her, but also enjoying the fact that I could comfort her, that she let me get this close. Looking closely at her, I realized that she was now as white as a sheet. I shook my head, wondering. How could anyone fear horses this much?

Yet this was one of the many traits that endeared her to me, the fact that she had weaknesses, and didn't seem afraid to show them. I would, in truth, have been a little scared if she was perfect in every way, which, up until now, she seemed to be.

Stroking her hair gently, I leaned down and whispered in her ear. "Don't be afraid, I'll find you a gentle horse. I won't let anything happen to you. Don't worry."

She nodded, looking up at me. "I trust you."

She trusted me! Try as I might, I couldn't keep the smile off my face. Holding her even closer, I guided her to the stables, picking out our gentlest horse for her to ride on.

"Come on, Daria, just put your foot there and hoist yourself up. Don't worry, I'll be right next to you. I'll make sure the horse doesn't go any faster than a wagon that's got it's wheels stuck in the mud." I smiled at her, reassuring.

She smiled hesitantly back, but the smile disappeared as she gazed at the horse. "I-I no, I can't! I just can't, please don't make me do this!"

It tore at my heart to see her so terrified. Reaching out, I hugged her gently. "Don't worry, Meadow here is our mildest horse. I'm not even sure he's capable of going faster than a slow walk." She buried her face in my tunic, and I could feel the front of the tunic getting wet with her tears. "I won't make you do anything you don't want to do, just trust me. Nothing will happen to you. I won't let anything happen to you."

She shook her head, holding on to me as if for dear life. I can't say I didn't like the position we were in; in fact, I could honestly say that I could have stayed like that for a day and a half. However, she really did need to learn that horses were nothing to be afraid of. If she didn't get over her fear now, she would have to do it later, when we went on a royal procession or something, and when that happens, the folks around her would be far less patient than I was. They wouldn't understand, they'd force her on a horse, and there would be nothing anybody could do to help her.

No, she had to learn to ride now. She was to be Queen, and a queen must learn how to ride. It was an obligation. If I didn't teach her now, Mother and Father would hire her a riding instructor. But a riding instructor wouldn't understand! Only I understood, I couldn't let those impatient and cruel hearted people break her down. She was so delicate, I wouldn't entrust her welfare to anybody else.

Making up my mind, I grabbed her around the waist and hoisted her up onto the horse. I patted the horse on the backside, and it started lurching forward at a slow pace. Even this seemed to be too much for her though, for she screamed, terrified.

"Jerrold! This isn't funny! Stop the horse! Please!" I don't know what happened afterwards, all I could see was the horse bolting off. I ran after it, my heart thudding. This was a horrible idea! What if she had gotten hurt? I would never forgive myself! I would never force her on a horse again; I'll just get her carriages when we needed to go places! How could I have done this?!

Suddenly, without warning, Daria was flung off the horse and onto the grass. I felt my heart stop. I was ready to die. I hurried over to see her looking at me with furious eyes.

"Jerrold! How could you? You know I can't ride! You could have killed me! I trusted you! And you promised! You promised you wouldn't make me do anything until I was ready, you broke your promise!" I saw tears forming in those beautiful eyes, and I felt worse than ever. I was scum. I had hurt her!

I examined her closely, looking for any signs of bruising or breakage. "Daria, I didn't know! That horse usually is so tame, I though you'd be safe, I really did." I couldn't bear it, if something had happened… "Did you get hurt? Are you all right? Any broken bones? Oh Daria, I really am sorry, I could kill myself." I could, I really could! I sat down beside her and picked her up carefully so as not to hurt her any more. Shaking, I held her close, as much for my comfort as for her own.

She struggled out of my embrace and I looked at her in shock. She shouldn't be moving! That could worsen any injuries that she had! "You're not sorry! You're laughing at me! Stupid Daria doesn't even know how to ride her own horse! Why am I betrothed to her? You promised! I thought a prince never breaks his word. How could you?" Her voice was bitter; she was hurt. I had broken her trust!

Remorse filled me, I would never do that, never again! "Daria, I didn't mean it, I just thought that you would never do it by yourself, and I wanted to show you that horses are nothing to be afraid of!" I cupped her face in my hands, stroking her cheek tenderly. "And I was the one who picked you to be my betrothed." I planted a kiss on her forehead, trying to make her see, to tell her that I loved her. "I would never regret it."

"I don't believe you! I can't believe I ever trusted you! You're an insufferable brat who just likes to make fun of people! I'll never ride again, for the rest of my life! You can just go galloping off and sweep some other maidens off they're feet. You pretend to be sweet, but all along you're just waiting for you're chance! I hate you!" My heart shattered, broke in half. Unconsciously, I drew back.

I fought to keep my face expressionless, trying to keep from letting her know how much she had hurt me. "Well, I'm sorry if you feel that way, Lady Daria. I promise you I will never bother you again. In fact, I shall just leave you alone from now on, how about that?" If that was what she wanted, then I'd give it to her. I bowed. "Your Prince bids you farewell, but not before he escorts you back to the palace to see the doctor."

I had not even known I had spoken those last words, but I did not regret them. If she was hurt, then I couldn't leave her here. It went against the code of chivalry I was taught as a child. It went against my heart.

She jerked away, as if my touch burned her. "Let me go! I'm fine. And there's no point in promising me anything, your promises are worthless, like you." Unclasping the cloak I had given her when we first met, she held it out to me.

I stared at the cloak, perplexed. Then, I finally understood her meaning. A second wave of pain washed over me. That was the last straw, the straw that broke the camel's back. Anger boiled up inside me, wiping away the last traces of kindness. Turning around, I decided to simply walk away, before I did anything I would regret.

Then, as quickly as the anger came, it disappeared. I could not stay angry, not with Daria. Turning around, I kissed her on the cheek. "I'm sorry, Daria." Those were the words I spoke. Unspoken was the plea, the plea for her to forgive me.

She didn't.

=The Incident=

I closed my eyes, trying to wipe the memory out of my mind. It didn't work. No matter how much I wanted to, the Incident was embedded into my brain. A million times a day I went over it in my head, cursing myself for acting the way I did, telling myself what I had done wrong.

I wish I could forget, cease to care, but I am not the kind of person who loves easily. I do not simply sway towards a pretty face. I chose Daria because I knew her, and I liked her, not because she was the prettiest girl I saw.

People don't believe me when I tell them the reason I chose Daria. They say that I couldn't have known her, because the first time we actually talked was after I had made my choice. But it doesn't matter, at least not to me, if we haven't actually met personally. I knew her all the same, from watching her. I knew that she was kind-hearted, gentle, and not at all empty headed like some of the ladies I know. I knew she had an appreciation for life, and that she was… perfect.

=The Rain=

"Prince Jerrold, would you like to accompany me on a stroll?"

"Your highness, how about tea at our manor, tomorrow afternoon?"

"Your majesty, what about-"

"Oh, Prince Jerrold, you're so funny! How about a visit-"

"Don't you just love my new-"

It was another ball, with millions of simpering ladies all trying to get my attention. Whoever said being a prince was fun obviously never was one. Stifling a yawn, I looked around, hoping for an escape. My eyes lit on a young lady who was dancing with some lord's son. She had soft chestnut curls and smoky blue eyes. Noticing that she was the only lady around my age who wasn't trying to make me fall in love with her, I immediately took a liking to her.

I watched the mystery girl flit around the dance floor, laughing merrily. Eventually the song ended, and her partner left her. I saw her sit down, looking lonely. She glanced wistfully over in my direction. I was surprised. If she wanted to be over here, why didn't she? I would have loved to have the company of someone who, for once, wasn't fawning over me. She would have been welcome!

But, I suppose, if she was here, I would have mistaken her for another empty-headed nitwit. No offense to the ladies here, of course. I watched her discreetly as she got up and made her way outside into the garden.

I was once again surprised by her actions. Was she crazy? It was pouring rain outside! I quickly excused myself and followed her, intending to lead her back in. However, when I reached the garden doors, I saw that she was standing just outside the door, where the roof stretched out beyond the wall. She was simply standing there, peacefully watching the rain. And I simply stood there, quietly watching her.

Suddenly, I saw her tense, looking out towards the chrysanthemums. Curious, I followed her gaze, and found a little tabby kitten, caught in the rain. Even as I watched it, it opened its mouth and gave a pitiful 'meow'. I turned, preparing to go back inside to get an umbrella so I could save the cat, but a movement in the corner of my eye stopped me.

The girl had gathered up her skirts and ran out into the rain, in all her finery. She stopped beside the kitten, picking it up and cradling it. Sitting herself down on the muddy ground, she stroked the pitiful little creature gently, murmuring soft words. I watched, entranced with this girl, the only one I knew who would ruin her dress to save a kitten. She was truly a mystery.

At length the kitten stopped shivering and fell asleep. The girl, however, remained sitting placidly on the ground, rainwater seeping through her clothes. She raised her head and closed her eyes, smiling as the raindrops splashed onto her face.

=The Rain=

She had been special, even then. It seemed rather ironic, the one girl who didn't seem to want my heart somehow managing to win it. She was so amazingly different from all the other girls. In fact, she was exactly what I had thought a real lady should be like. Kind, generous, associates with both rich and poor, and most of all, not a simpering nitwit! She was the best example of a lady I had ever seen. If only I had been a good enough prince.

After the Incident, nothing had been the same. She never gave me a kind word, ever again. She would look at me, tell me I was a monster, and hate me with all her might. Every time I saw her, I would try to make up, try to beg her forgiveness, try to show her that I wasn't whom she thought I was. But every time I looked into her eyes, I got drawn in; I wanted to be whatever she wanted me to be. I was whoever she thought I was.

She thought I was a spoiled, pampered, rich, brat.

Yippee.

So that was what I'd be, I'd tell her to do the most ludicrous things, and when she refused, order her to do them. Whenever we were alone, I'd torture her, and in reality, torture myself. I don't know why I did these things, except that I was a coward, I couldn't bear to tell her what I really felt, I couldn't face rejection. I needed her; I couldn't let her go.

But I didn't want her hating me; I couldn't live with her hating me. The only reason I let this go on was because I thought that having her hate me was better than not having her at all.

I am a Prince; I get whatever I want. I have her; I am betrothed to Daria. She is mine, yet she is not. I do not want her person; I want her heart, her spirit. And that is the one thing I do not have.

Each day, every night, I tell myself that I'll do something. As I lie in my bed, I'd swear that the next day, tomorrow, I'd resolve this. I'd either show my true self once again and beg forgiveness, or I'd let her go. But I'd swear, I will do something. Tomorrow. I will.

But the thing with tomorrow is that it never comes.

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Did you like that? I hope you did! Okay, can I get ten reviews for the next chappie? Please? I just had an idea for this chapter and just about couldn't eat or sleep until I wrote it. And it was hard writing it! I just couldn't seem to get the words right, for some reason… Oh well, I am currently thinking about food, and, well, food is more important. So, byes!

Dreamerdoll: Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you. I really have a problem with my commas, don't I?