PLAGUE ON ALL YOUR HOUSES

Chapter III

THE next day was nothing special, her father had not found her another suitor yet, so her day went on as her normal routine, she woke, got dressed, this time in a peach empire waist that was far more casual than her previous one, and went to breakfast. Her brothers apparently had a hunting trip that day, so their company was missing, leaving only her and her father.

Only small-talk was exchanged; Stella deduced he was a tad resentful that she didn't like his choice in suitor, so to make up for it she gave him a kiss on his cheek – a token she hadn't given him in a while. He had blushed slightly, and had tried to make it look like he didn't care, but when she walked away she had looked back and was pleased to see the smile on his face.

Her day had gone, and the slight glow she had woken up with that morning was slowly fading. She had given her father her first real smile in a long time.

Stella knew it had to do with the fact that she was now presented with a mystery to take her mind off of her own worries and thoughts.

After lunch she had taken a stroll in the garden, and spotted three guards in plain view, whilst before they would always be along the walls, and out of sight. It had confused her, and then counted the soldiers along the walls, and began to search the entirety of the garden, finding well over twenty guards posted.

Obviously security was tighter than usual.

Next she had went to the Ground Keepers quarters, a small house at the far end of the gardens, which she knew before was more full of gardening tools than actual home furniture. She had come with the excuse that a rosebush had died and needed removal (which was true, she had found it while looking for guards)

The Grounds Keeper was annoyingly absent.

Regina had come out bustling then, looking for her, saying it was time for her harp lessons.

Annoying distractions.

She hadn't found any free time until now, when the sun was setting; soon it would be time for her to retire. She almost sighed irritably at that; the first day she finally had an agenda, and everyone seemed to be taking up her time! It was ironic, if irony had a dry sense of humour.

Stella was in the stables, watching the bleeding sun spill over the grounds and the chorals of horses. It was nice; the sound of the animals, even the smell, she realized; very relaxing and down to earth. She waited there, however, not because of the beauty or because of her affiliation to horses, but because Regina had informed her that Leon would probably be helping out with the stables about now.

The longer she waited, the more she got the feeling that Leon's schedule had recently changed. The stable boys didn't know anything, and they were too busy for her to pester them for too long, and no one else seemed to be present.

"Nice day out, isn't it?" A voice asked her. So distracted was Stella in her thoughts that she actually spun around a hand on her chest, with her eyes wide. The voice had come out of nowhere, and was right in her ear. She blinked up. The speaker was an incredibly tall man, with a lazy smile, but rather unattractive features, or, no, he looked ordinary. Actually, he looked like a worker, or a peasant.

"Oh, yes. It is – beautiful day." Like so many other, Stella thought idly, as she stared at the man. He didn't seem to have a grasp of personal space, because he was inappropriately too close, and since Stella's back was already against the pasture fence, she couldn't back up herself. "Would you mind taking a step back?" She asked, politely, feeling almost bad at being so rude – and hypocritical, as she usually didn't care at all for personal space. Why did this man make her feel so uncomfortable?

"My apologies, your Majesty." He bowed his head, but did not take a step back. Stella looked him up and down, wondering what was going through his head. The stables were quite some ways from the castle, outside the palace walls. There weren't as many guards around here that would be able to immediately respond if she were to call for help. Sure, they would hear her fine, the stables weren't too far away, but it would still take some time.

The worse part was that Stella had taken a furtive escapade, and no one knew she was there at present.

"You know your Majesty; you shouldn't be too far from the castle. Haven't you heard?" He asked, and while the question in itself was rhetorical, he waited for her to respond.

"No, not really." She told him, inching herself away from the man that caused a primitive fear to erupt within her.

"They say that there's a radical group – a rebellion." The man explained, finally pulling back and allowing her to breath. Now that he had given her space he didn't seem as frightening. She almost cursed her weaknesses, her lack of strength, the inability to fight for herself, but the thought was cut off when he continued to speak.

"They're inspecting all of us travellers – inspecting and taken things that they deem 'suspicious', but really its for their own greed; what they take is theirs indefinitely, see?" The man explained, as he walked over to where a wagon was. "My horse is resting here, see? I just finished my work, now all I've got is a lack of profit, thanks to your guards, and a bunch of empty crates. I see produce, see?"

"I understand." Stella lied, not understanding at all as to why he was telling her this; did it really concern her? Perhaps he was trying to subtly get her to have the guards give him back his produce.

"I thought you would, you've always been so kind Princess Stella." He near gushed. Stella couldn't help but back up slightly.

The entire encounter was too off for her to be comfortable with it. First of all, she hadn't heard him approach granted her had been caught up in her thoughts, but that really wasn't much of an excuse. Not many could sneak up on her – a gift pounded into her from years of suffering from her brothers sneaking up and yelling 'boo' in her ear, making her scream in terror.

His shoes were normal, as were his pants and clothes, for a commoner. There was nothing that would allow him to walk so quietly. Was the man just used to walking quietly? He said his occupation was selling produce, and the crates he had gestured to before had stains only gained from long use in holding fresh fruit and vegetables.

His story seemed solid, so why was she worrying so much? Why was she taking a step back each time she stepped forward? Then again, her mind told her logically, he, if he were polite, should never approach her like that at all. A peasant always maintained respective distance; it was only expected

"You know, that rebellion I was talking about?" He continued, his steps getting longer, so much so that when Stella's mind screamed at her to run, she obeyed.

She couldn't have gotten three steps before strong arms, strong, demanding, arms that didn't belong there at all grabbed her, another hand, covered by a leather, dirty cloth so biting him wouldn't work, cupped her mouth, muffling her screams. "That rebellion is against you're country, for taking over our home and eradicating all our heritage, everything we knew, and forcing all you're beliefs onto us, for the horrible things you're army has done to our people, how you're father destroyed all that we were, tearing down every monument, every historical piece of information there was, or placing it on display, in a pathetic section in you're museum." His gruff voice was in her ear, his arm cutting off her arm movement. Still, she struggled, trying to wiggle out of his grasp. "You know, the worst of it all, is that that section in the museum? It's not even dedicated to us, but a part of you're history, of how you conquered it, and some stupid things you found there to try to 'educate' the higher class!

"It's such mockery!" He growled, pulling her back, "so much so that we, the CRO cannot sit idly by! You've destroyed our rights as people – you know that? Every original citizen of our home is living like trash! We're lower than even you're maids! Lower than the homeless on the street!" He ranted heavily as he dragged her towards his wagon, and once Stella's frantic mind revealed to her what he intended to to, she struggled even more, yelling 'let me go!' into his hand, though the words were indistinguishable. She continued to scream, but instead, he let go of her body, only to grab her by the neck and hold her against a beam.

"I've paid off the workers here to stay away for half an hour, love; no one's coming. You? You're going to be the price of our freedom." He smiled as he slowly squeezed her throat, cutting off her air supply. The screams stopped, as she focussed instead on breathing.

Just like the diamond necklace.

"Sleep well, your Majesty." The man said with mirth, before he removed his hand from her mouth, now that the only sound coming from her lips was a small, high-pitched wheezing. He then reached into his pocket, and pulled out a cloth, a cloth with stunk of something she couldn't identify.

He switched his hands, placing the cloth over her nose and mouth, and then removed his grip from her throat. Unwillingly, she took in a giant gasp of air.


A/N: Sorry for the delay - the internet has been crap. Apparently we bought our modem, but when the company we use CHANGED their 'server' (or something) they forgot to tell us, so I've had crappy internet service. Then my laptop wouldn't TURN ON and when it did the internet DID NOT WORK - so, again, sorry for the delay, the next chapter will be up this monday regardless.