A/N: Alright, I got criticized for too much sad Jester stories but I can't stop writing tragic stories so with that said I tell you now it is a tragic JANE story. It's in Jane's POV. This is for an author who I want to say sorry to, but I know Sorry is a lame apology so here is my way of saying a heartfelt apology. Reviews are most welcome.

Disclaimer: Geez Louis! Do I need to keep repeating myself saying, "No"?

I stood gaping. Gaping at me. My lying, lame self. Oh what did I do wrong? I knew what I had done wrong; I knew I hurt Gunther very badly. And I needed to find a way to gain his trust back, but how?

It had all started when I simply told Gunther that I won't dance with Jester at the Royal Ball. When the time of the Ball did come though, I danced twice with Jester thinking; "I don't think Gunther would notice or see, what's the harm?" little did I know then. That night, that night took everything from me.

Gunther won't talk to me anymore, won't look at me anymore either. I tried making amends with him once before, but he just ignored me. I just need to think; think up of a way to apologize to him in a way he will listen. But how?

O-O-O-O

Days pass all too slowly, and I still haven't thought up a way yet. "Come on Jane, think! Think!" I keep thinking to myself. If I only had someone to talk to, but they will think I'm a child – which I'm not. Now I'm here in my room writing this:

Dear Gunther,

I'm very sorry…

I crumble the paper up and throw it out the window. Second attempt:

Dear Gunther,

I-I'm so sorry. I…

"That won't work either," mumble I.

Dawn is approaching at a cautious rate, best get to training.

O-O-O-O

It is now a month since the Ball and Gunther has still not talked to me. I feel so messed up inside, so messed up. Guilt carved in my body now, it keeps me up at night and I sometimes cry for it to go away. But it will not. It sits and stays, sits and stays. Jester senses my mood and tried to help by telling an amusing story, which would usually make me laugh but this time I did not.

I'm in the Practice Yard now. I'm opening and closing my mouth numerous times in attempt to talk. I can't though, I can't. No matter how much I want to apologize to him verbally, no sound comes out. It worked this time though.

"Gunther," my voice was weak and shaky.

He turned around and faced me, fury locked in his eyes, hands on his hips. "What is it Jane?" asked he. His voice was kind but had a murderous edge to it.

I gulped. "I-I wanted to say I'm sorry for what I did."

"Sorry doesn't cut the rope Jane," he said coolly.

Gunther turned his back on me now. He continued to practice with the dummy.

"I know you're angry at me now, but please I didn't mean it. It was just so tempting, honest Gunther."

"Yes I'm angry. I'm not angry that you lied to me Jane, just the fact that I could no longer trust you," he said turning around to face me.

Greif and guilt took over me then, I felt a whole Tidal Wave of it. I knelt down on my knees begging and crying in my heart and on the outside of it that it wasn't happening, couldn't be happening. But it was. My nightmare was turning into reality with each passing moment. "Please Gunther, give me one more chance."

"Another chance? Why would I give you another chance when you have already blown the head off?"

"Please Gunther please!" I was crying now. Tears danced and trickled down my cheek. This couldn't be happening.

Gunther's eyes showed that of pity for a second, than returned with his merciless black-eyed scorn. "I'm sorry Jane, but no."

O-O-O-O

Now I'm dying, dying from grief and guiltiness. I'm drowning in the feelings never to be rescued, never to come back to surface until I hear him say, "I forgive you."