OMG I'M SO SORRY. I'll try to update more, but I got really lazy. D: I feel so bad for ditching this for so long. Actually, it's been so long in fact, that I feel like adding on to the last two chapters, 'cause they seem so short and rushed. Er. I'll get to that later. :'D

Thanks so so so much for the reviews guys! They touch my heart. TTwTT

"What …?" Angela whispered. She had never thought that this could've happened, considering the face that this was the first time she'd even heard of an assassination attempt that happened inside her peaceful country, much less an attempt on her own life.

"Didn't you hear me?" Chase asked, irritated, "Someone out there tried to assassinate you."

"But, but, but," Angela sputtered, "Why would someone try to assassinate me? What did I ever do?"

"Well, I wouldn't know now, would I?" Chase turned around and started heading back into the kitchen. "Now then, if there's nothing else, I suppose I'll just head back to work …" The cook gave a little wave and stepped through the doorway.

The princess stood outside the kitchen, her mouth slightly agape, her eyes staring blankly at where Chase had been standing. There was no way that Chase could be right, no way –

"Princess Angela!"

Angela spun around, her heart pounding from the slight shock. "Er, h-hello there."

Gill lifted an eyebrow. "I go out of my way to look for you, and all I get is an indifferent 'hello there'?"

Angela giggled nervously. "You caught me surprise, that's all."

The prince sighed. "Well, okay. I just wanted to know why you rushed off so suddenly after the banquet."

"Er, did I now?" Angela said. Gill gave her one of his infamous glares. "Well, okay, okay, I came to ask Chase why he swiped my glass away like that."

"You could've asked me, you know. Someone -"

"Tried to poison my glass, yes." Angela rubbed her temples, sighing. "But what I really don't get is why. It's not like I'm going to get the throne, 'cause Kasey's getting it anyways. Plus, I really can't imagine when I've gotten someone so pissed off that they'd try to poison me."

Gill sighed as well as he ran his fingers through his hair. "So, it was poison, huh."

Angela inspected his expression. "You seem pretty calm about it, Gill."

"That's not exactly important right now, is it? We need to find out who attempted this assassination and to make sure you're safe." His ice blue eyes showed the rare sign of worry.

Angela giggled for a second at Gill's uncommon display of emotion, and then her face melted back into seriousness. "Well, I don't see what we can do about it. I mean, we don't even know who tried to put something in my glass – Wait a second. Gill, did you see who did it?"

The princess watched as her companion's eyebrows furrowed together as he appeared to be deep in thought. "Well …" Gill spoke up, "He had … brownish hair?"

"Why is that a question?"

The prince let out a frustrated sigh, bringing his hand towards his forehead to complete a perfect facepalm. "Because I don't remember all that well. I know for sure the man was wearing servant clothes though."

"Geez, that's helpful." Angela rolled her eyes. "Because of course, I'll know exactly which brown-haired servant you're talking about out of the what, several hundred we have here?"

"We don't have time for sarcasm!" Gill snapped, his eyebrows furrowing together so impossibly much that Angela figured that he would have a permanent unibrow soon. "We need to figure out who it was, and fast!"

The brunette held her hand up in mock defeat. "Alright, alright, Gilly, no need to get your royal underpants in a bunch."

Gill glared at the girl. "You know what? I think that we should let your parents – I mean, Their Majesties - know about this."

Her mouth formed a small 'o' shape. "Right. My parents."

The man in front of her stared at her expectantly, his arms crossed across his chest.

Angela whirled around and started running off to apparently find her parents. She yelled over her shoulder, "I'll go tell them right now! Thanks Gill!"

The prince, now left standing in front of the kitchen doors all by himself, sighed and said to no one in particular, "What am I supposed to do now then? Stand here and wait?"

"Excuse me," Angela panted out to the startled servant girl nearby, "but have you seen my parents?"

"Their Majesties are in the royal bedchambers." The girl gave a respectful bow as Angela sped off again to find the monarchs.

Once the princess reached the heavily decorated, ornate door that led the bedchambers, she stopped to catch her breath, her hand resting on the golden doorknob. She then remembered to knock the door twice. Hearing a soft "Come in," Angela twisted the doorknob and entered the room.

The room, as beautifully arranged as it was, was slightly too sparkly for Angela's tastes. Everything from the large bed with frilly covers to the highly glossed desk in one corner of the room to the floor seemed to be sparkling. It was almost like some person decided to dump truckloads of glitter over the entire room.

Angela blinked a couple times, her eyes unaccustomed to the unnatural gleams. She never really understood how her father managed to deal with the generally girly style of the room. But then again, he managed to deal with her mom, the most glitter-obsessed person on the entire planet, probably.

The two royals Angela was looking for were seated on the bed. The king was leaning on the headboard of the bed, looking utterly relaxed, as monarchs shouldn't be. The queen was in a position more befitting her royal status. She was sitting on the edge of the bed with her back straight, her hands in her lap.

"Hey, Mom, Dad." Angela smiled at her parents. She closed the door and plopped herself down on the bed next to the queen, who immediately started stroking Angela's hair out of habit.

"Andrew!" the queen scolded. "Stop lazing around the room like that – what if someone more important came in?" She added, "Just teasing, Angela dear," when the aforementioned brunette huffed and glared at her mother.

King Andrew sighed and slid further down the headboard. "It's just Angela. Whatever, Stella."

The queen, Stella, rolled her eyes, and then turned her head back to smile at the princess. "What did you need, Angela?"

"Well …" Angela began as she told her parents the story of the attempted assassination. The two nodded at appropriate times and commented occasionally.

"… And so, I wanted to know what you guys think I should do," she finished, emphasizing the end with an extra gesticulation, looking at them with expectation in her eyes.

"That's nice, dear," Stella said absentmindedly, still stroking her daughter's hair.

Andrew and Angela both stared at the queen. "Mom …" Angela said slowly, "Were you listening at all?"

The queen started a little, then grinned sheepishly. "No, not really. Could you repeat what you were saying?"

Angela sighed. "So, during the banquet someone slipped something into my drink and this cook servant person stopped me from drinking it and apparently it was poisoned so we think that it was an assassination attempt," she said all in one breath.

"Really?" the queen asked sharply, fully alert now. "Do you know for sure that it was poisoned?"

"Yeah, I guess so. Chase – the cook – tested it on a rat in the kitchen. Apparently it flipped over and died."

The king and queen glanced at each other, the worry evident on their faces. "Do you know who tried to slip the poison into your drink?" the king, this time, asked.

"No. All Gill remembers – er, Prince Gill," Angela amended, "is that it was someone with brown hair in servant dress."

Stella bit her lip. "Why don't I get someone to ask the cook whether he remembers or not? In the meantime, your father and I will take extra measures to prevent this from happening again."

"Well, okay. I can ask Chase myself though." Angela smiled at her mother. She stood up and patted down her dress. "I'll head off and do that right now, actually." She waved goodbye to her still worried parents and headed towards the door. As she closed it behind her, she could hear her father saying, "We'll get more security following her -"

Angela looked down at the floor and sighed. She did not enjoy having her freedom limited, but she guessed that it was for the best.

"Princess Angela?" a surprised voice said. The girl looked up to see familiar blue eyes looking back at her.

"Gill!" she exclaimed. "Perfect timing. Come with me to find Chase again." With that, she grabbed the prince's collar and started pulling him in the direction of the kitchen.

"Uh, but wait – urrrrgh," Gill groaned as Angela's grip on his collar started choking him.

This time, instead of standing outside and waiting for Chase to come out, Angela swooped directly into the kitchen herself, closely followed by a rather ruffled-up Gill. The cooks all quickly ducked aside and made hasty bows as the two royals passed by. They whispered among one another, baffled as to why two monarchs were in the kitchen, and in such of state of urgency no less.

Angela raced towards the by-now familiar chef, who was stirring a large cauldron of soup with his eyebrows furrowed in concentration. He didn't react when the brunette and the blonde neared him – apparently, he was too immersed in his cooking to notice.

"Chase!" Angela called, screeching to a stop next to the chef.

He bit his lip as he sprinkled a last few herbs into the soup, and then placed a cap over the cauldron. He turned towards the two royals, sighed, then said, "Yes?"

Gill twitched a bit at the rudeness. He could hear the several other chefs twittering in the background, spreading some gossip no doubt. "We want to ask you something, chef," he answered in the same annoyed tone as Chase employed.

Either Angela was oblivious to the obvious hostility in the two men's tones, or she chose to ignore it. She said, "Well actually, we wanted to ask you if you remembered who tried to slip the poison into my drink. As in, do you remember what the person looked like at all?"

Chase glanced over to the clearly frustrated Gill. "Doesn't your princely boyfriend remember?"

Gill started sputtering at his words, all the while turning progressively redder. "Wha-wha-what do you mean, not friends, I mean boyfriends, I mean - arggh!"

"Prince Gill here doesn't remember. He says that the person has brown hair, but that's all he remembers," Angela answered calmly, cutting across Gill's now incoherent mumblings. "Also, we're not romantically involved."

"The man was also wearing servant clothes," Gill said, trying to recover himself somewhat.

Angela rolled her eyes. "Well, yeah. That too."

Chase smirked at the prince's obvious embarrassment. "Well, I guess I can help you a bit more than Prince Gill can. For starters, the man had somewhat long hair; it was up to his shoulders. Kinda wavy, too. Brown, like Gill said. Probably a bit taller than me -" Here Chase used a hand to indicate about how tall the person was. He thought for a moment. "Pretty manly looking too. I don't remember seeing him around the castle before, so it's likely he was just there under disguise as a servant."

"I see. How am I going to find him then, if he's probably only disguised as a servant? By now he could be off somewhere far away already."

Chase shrugged. "Iunno. Not my problem."

Gill gnashed his teeth together in frustration. "How could you say that? Would you seriously not care if the princess of your country died? Would you seriously not care if Angela died?" He crossed his arms over his chest and glared at the chef.

"Woah, woah, no need to have a fit, Mr. Prince!" Chase put his hands up in mock defeat. "But no, not particularly."

A resounding slap echoed through the now silent kitchen. All eyes were upon the beloved princess of the country and the rather unpleasant chef. Angela stood, her cheeks flushed, her eyes glistening as Chase slowly brought his hand to his red cheek, his eyes wide open with shock.

Finally, Chase broke the silence. "What was that for?" he said indignantly.

Angela's mouth thinned. "I hate you," she answered coldly. "Come on, Gill, let's go." With that, she turned around and stalked out of the kitchen, a slightly bewildered Gill tagging behind.

Chase stayed where he was for several minutes, eyes still holding that same shocked look, even after all the other workers returned to their cooking.

Finally, he ran his hand through his hair, sighing. "My bad."

URRGH. Sorry for the boring chapter. D: I'm also not all that sure why I did the end like that. Might be kind of random, but err. I tried? :D?

Yes, I know, my vocabulary has somewhat deteriorated. D: But review anyways? :D

By the way, I went to a con this weekend. I saw Pedo Bear. It was preeeeeeetty badass.