A/N: I'm back? Yeah! I'm back! Boys and girls, the fabulous Iliana11 has returned from the depths of college with new inspiration for this story. For those of you who have read all...six chapters of Face in the Mirror, this is a rewrite of that. Why? Because one of my friends gave me a really good idea for this story and I had to run with it. Also, I miss getting reviews. This plot just has too much potential not to write and post, even if I may someday attempt to get it published. (If that happens, say goodbye to updates and perhaps seeing this whole story.) Anyway, read on! I'm back, and better than ever!

~Ili

P.S. Don't forget to review!


The dagger glinted in the sunlight, held high above Gwen's head. Gwen stood there, cowering before the man she had trusted to take her out on a splendid day around the castle. Tears flowed down her cheeks as she sunk to the ground, accepting that her death would soon come. She closed her eyes and leaned back against the edge of the rock wall Roger had cornered her against. Thump thump. Thump thump. Gwen's heart raced violently as she waited for her imminent demise. Nothing.

Gwen opened her eyes and stared at Roger, who was holding his right hand with his left. Madness filled his gray eyes.

"Run! Flee Myrithia if you want to live. Go now!" he barked.

Gwen hesitated, and the dagger leaned ever closer.

"Run!" he shouted, struggling to stop himself from killing Gwen. "I'm so sorry, my lady." He sank to his knees and his face turned bone white. He couldn't resist for much longer. "Run!"

Gwen picked up her skirts and sprinted into the woods without any idea of where she was going. All she knew was that she had to get away from Roger, away from the castle, away from the city she'd known her whole life. Adrenaline coursed through her veins, and fear clouded her thoughts. What if Roger was chasing her again? What if he caught her? She wouldn't have a second chance.

Run. That was the only thing she could think of. She wasn't safe yet. Even her own footsteps crunching the leaves beneath her feet frightened her. Everything set Gwen on edge. Demons lurked in the shadows, the trees were monsters, and animals glared at her with malice. Nothing was safe.

Gwen didn't know how far she had run, or how long she had been running. Was she close to Alrich by now?

She looked around, and suddenly saw herself in the path of an arrow ready to be released from a hunter's bow.

"Gwen?"

She immediately fainted.

It was dark when Gwen awoke. A woolen blanket covered her, and a small campfire blazed in front of her. A figure sat on the other side of the fire, eating something that he had just cooked. Gwen instantly prepared to run, but faltered. The figure stood, and rushed to her aid.

"Careful, Gwen," he said, keeping her steady.

Gwen's pulse quickened as she realized who was helping her and her fear returned. "Your Highness!" she exclaimed, pulling away. "I'm so sorry, Prince Milo, I don't mean to intrude. I'll just be on my way."

"Stay here, Gwen. You looked as frightened as a hunted doe. Now, I know you don't feel comfortable around me, but you fainted at the mere sight of me. What's wrong?"

Gwen looked down. She hated talking to Prince Milo. He was so…friendly. He didn't understand the fact that scullery maids did not talk to princes. He shouldn't even know she existed, let alone talk amiably with her. And if he did acknowledge her existence, he would not have been nearly as kind about it. Prince Milo was right. Gwen did not feel comfortable around him. She wrapped the blanket around herself even tighter.

"Gwen, please don't make me order you to talk to me like I did the second time I saw you. I want to understand you and the rest of the castle staff. Maybe it will give me insight into my own castle. But I can't do that if you don't talk to me."

Gwen looked up at him with wide brown eyes. "Roger. Sir Roger tried to kill me. He let me go at the last second, and I don't know why." Gwen stared aimlessly into the fire.

"Oh Gwen…" began Milo.

"Begging your pardon, Your Highness, but I do not need your sympathy or your concern," she said coldly.

Milo pressed his lips together. "Very well then." He hated the fact that Gwen refused to talk to him or trust him at all. It hurt. "Will you go back to the castle?"

"Of course I can't. Roger is there. I have to flee Myrithia. Though I can't help but wonder what you're doing here."

"Then where will you go?" he asked. Silence. "I was hunting, for the record. The game is better around Myrithia. The Border Woods are a neutral zone. I'm allowed to hunt here."

Gwen said nothing. She still refused to look Prince Milo in the eye. "I have no idea where I'll go." She whimpered slightly, realizing that she was alone with nowhere to go.

"You could always, that is, I could," stammered Milo.

Gwen finally looked up at the Prince. "You could what?" she asked. She was skeptical. He had to have some ulterior motives. What if he was her only way of getting help and staying safe?

"I could always find a place for you. I'm the Prince of Alrich. I could help you, if you'd let me," he said pointedly.

"But I could never repay you."

"You don't need to."

Gwen shifted uncomfortably. Her hazel eyes filled with unexpected tears. "That's too much. I can't accept that."

"But that's the nature of a gift," Milo persisted.

Gwen sighed. "Will you answer me one question?"

Milo nodded.

"Why is a prince helping a scullery maid when she doesn't even deserve it?"

Milo ran his hands through his hair. She didn't seem to understand it. "Do you want me to apologize for trying to be a gentleman? I want to be a good prince so I can be a good king someday. I need to respect even the lowest of people if I'm going to be an honorable man."

Milo's behavior astounded Gwen. She tried to think of something to say, but words failed her.

"Thank you," she whispered.

Prince Milo offered her a plate of food, and Gwen accepted. She ate, relishing the small meal. It was better than what she got at the castle. She didn't trust Prince Milo. Not fully. But she would accept his rather confusing kindness.

Gwen yawned, feeling exceedingly weary. Her eyes drooped, and she soon fell asleep bye the fireside.

Milo turned away from her and pulled his cloak tighter. Yes, he wanted to be a gentleman. This was what any honorable man would do. But Gwen was also very beautiful. He wanted to get to know her more, in case he ever did find himself interested in her. Telling her that would only make her distrust him more, and that was the last thing he wanted.

Milo stared into the forest and soon fell asleep. However, he soon awoke to hear Gwen crying out in her sleep.

"No! I didn't do anything wrong!" Her brow wrinkled, and drops of sweat and tears formed on her face. Milo rushed over to her.

"Gwen!" he shook her shoulder lightly. "Gwen, wake up!" She continued to thrash in her sleep, and Milo shook her shoulder even more. "Gwen!"

Her eyes snapped open in fear. Gwen shoved Milo away, scooting back from him. "Go away!" Her voice sounded hoarse. Tears rolled down her cheeks like a rainstorm.

"It's okay, Gwen, it's just me. You're safe. I will not let anyone hurt you." Milo offered her his handkerchief.

She took it and wiped her tears. Gwen began to calm down, but she still shook. "I'm okay, Your Highness."

"Nightmares?" he asked.

Gwen nodded. "Yes." That was all Gwen would say about the subject. She refused to look him in the eye.

"You can talk to me about it," he offered.

"Roger was chasing me again. I didn't escape, this time." Her shaking subsided.

That was all Milo needed to know about that. Still, there were a few more things he wondered about. "Gwen, please tell me, why don't you trust nobles?"

"Honestly? In my experience, they don't actually care for anyone but themselves. The way they treat maids like me…let's just say they show absolutely no respect. They've hurt my friends. One nearly beat one of my friends to death because she resisted his advances."

"What happened to her? Was he accused? Convicted?"

"She died, later, in the infirmary. They bandaged her wounds, but they didn't really care for her like they should have. She was just another replaceable scullery maid. The nobleman was never accused. I think some of his friends knew. But they never said anything. No one does. They think of us as, well, pieces of meat, objects they can use and toss out. That's why I couldn't, well, can't bring myself to trust you. I can't see what makes you any different than them."

"Do you trust me, Gwen?" asked Milo. He wished she would. He wanted to check her wrists for bruises, just like the ones he saw on her arms the first week they met. He wanted to make sure that she healed. He wanted to let her know that she was safe with him.

"I don't know."

Silence. Only the snort of Milo's horse filled the night.

Suddenly, Milo looked down and giggled.

"I wish my men fought as hard as you."

Gwen stared at Milo blankly. She wrinkled her brow. "Huh?"

"Listen to yourself. You're cautious, and you don't stop because everything around you is falling to pieces. You would make a good warrior."

Gwen wondered if Prince Milo was losing his head a bit. "I'm no warrior, Your Majesty."

"That doesn't mean you don't have the heart of a warrior. You should probably try and sleep some more, though. We'll want to get an early start to get you to a safe place in Alrich."

Milo moved back to his side of the fire, and Gwen curled up with her blanket once more.

"Goodnight, Gwen."

"Goodnight Your Highness."