2

To those of you who reviewed and read the first chapter of "Lost", especially Crystal, thank you! Honto ni, arigotou! I look forward to your reviews in the future. Thank you again, I appreciate your support very much.

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As quickly as she could dare, Airi opened one eye cautiously, and then the other, as she surveyed her immediate surroundings; Jeile's head lay on her chest, and his own eyes were closed in a deep, peaceful sleep; Feeling the cool air around her bare shoulders and the skin of her thighs, Airi blushed crimson with embarassment. Carefully, slowly enough to hear her own joints crack and strain with the effort of not making a single sound, she observed the bright light of day shining through the open window, and bit back a groan. It was already hours past dawn, and she knew that the other maids and servants would be discussing and gossiping about her behind her back; they knew what was going on, of course they did; unfortunately for Airi, subtlety had never been one of Jeile's strong points, and most likely never would be. Gently, she tried to pry herself away, but his grip tightened around her thin shoulders, pulling her closer to him, pushing her back onto her small double bed.

"Get off of me,"

She hissed with irritation, and began punching his firm shoulders as hard as she could.

"Wake up, bakaaaa! You're heavy! Kami…Ja-ku…"

'God, what a selfish jerk.'

Suddenly, Jeile's green eyes fluttered open, and he sat up swiftly with a smug grin on his curved lips, making his expression something akin to a sneer. Airi rolled her eyes, cursing inwardly that Jeile had tricked her, even though it was a typical trick of his, pretending to be sleeping while eavesdropping.

But only his eyes, glinting with supressed laughter, acknowledged it; he said nothing to indicate anything besides her previous thought that he had been asleep, innocent as a babe. With a loud yawn, he rose to his feet and stretched, and then slid on his state robes while Airi sulked, sitting stiffly on the side of the bed.

"That was relaxing. Clean yourself up, won't you? It's nine o'clock…I should have let you go hours ago, but…"

He shrugged his shoulders carelessly, not seeming to mind as Airi glared resentfully at him.

"It couldn't be helped. Nannari…Sayonara, Airi."

As the door clicked shut behind him, Airi let out a squeal of fury and threw one, then two, then three of her pillows at the wooden door.

'Whatever? That's all he has to say? Asshole. Omae…Kirai! I hate you!'

Quickly, Airi shrugged out of her nightgown and into the outfit of Jeile's maids, or, as he referred to it, his 'favorite' maids. The outfits were disgustingly risque and sexist, but, at the very least, they guaranteed her safety – no one would dare touch her so long as she was 'claimed' by Prince Jeile. Three years ago, the mere thought of being 'claimed' by anyone would have made her blood boil with fury, but that was the distant past – things were different now..She was different. Airi passed the mirror, which was covered by a swath of black cloth for mourning; it had been there ever since Jeile had given her the room three years ago. She mourned the loss of Aram, and the loss of a part of herself, the strong and fearless part, the part that she would never get back as long as she lived. Astale had murdered her true self, and ever since she had cut off herself from her true feelings, she was able to adapt fairly easily to her current circumstances. Everything, all of the hurt and pain – it had all quieted down to a dull roar. Without even a warning, another voice that sounded as if it belonged to a very young child, popped into the room.

"Neh! Migurushii girl .."

'Eh??? Ugly girl?! Who does she think she's talking to?'

"Go away and throw your poison to someone else, Maruru."

The cheeky, mischevious fairy, once the size of her thumb, was now just as tall as she was, and smirked at Airi in a way that made her flesh crawl with dread – what was she planning now?

"Yaa! Why would I, when you're so much more fun, mountain lily girl? Blech, I still think you're too nasty to be a mountain lily. Maybe a pile of…Betsuni…."

Choosing not to engage in an argument with Maruru, who, coincidentially, always seemed to be looking for one, Airi strode past her, slipped on her black lace platform shoes, and walked out of the door to her quarters, Maruru following hard on her heels.

"Ah! Gomene – I only came here to tell you that her Highness, Veedua-Sama, requested that you take the place of Aram-Sama's personal attendant, Lei – he's sick."

"N-nani?"

'What?!?!'

Airi froze then, and her small fists clenched and unclenched as her mind went into panick mode; meanwhile, Maruru watched with a sneer full of pitying contempt.

'Aram…I can't…He…he doesn't even know who I am…how can I? How will he react…he does remember how I tried to get him back…but…I failed.'

Her head hung low, and she struggled to fight back the tears that swarmed to the corners of her eyes, fighting to pour down her cheeks, pale with shock and dismay. Without another word to an equally stunned Maruru, who most likely expected Airi to flare out and refuse, Airi continued to walk down the several flights of stairs, her face devoid of any emotion, stoic and blank as the face of a rock, while inside, she felt as if she were dying all over again. Was Jeile behind all of this? Was he trying to torment her again, with her past love?

As she entered the throne room, a chill swept through her body, but she managed to keep her head up as she approached the royal family: the King, the Queen Veedua, the latter of whom grinned cruelly at her, Jeile, who winked at her and then proceeded to glare cooly at his step-mother, and then, finally, Aram, who stared straight ahead, refusing to even meet her gaze. His cool reception nearly broke her heart, but despite her grief, Airi bowed deeply, her head down as she awaited orders.

"Hoshina Airi-san, you will attend his highness Aram for the entire length of the feast and revelries today. Understood?"

Asked the Queen in a knowing, smug tone.

"Hai, your highness,"

Airi muttered in a low voice, curtsying again; she had memorized all of the proper responses to Astalean royalty long ago – there were no room for mistakes at court, as she had come to realize.

"Good. Aram?"

The fifteen year old Prince bowed to his mother, and nodded towards Airi, and, as he left the room, she followed, her heart pounding like a skull rattling in an empty can in her ribcage. As soon as they were alone, outside of the Main Hall, he turned with a tortured expression on his face, and Airi blinked in surprise as he asked her -