AN: Ugh, I hated writing some of the scenes in the last chapter. William's character is just... blegh xD

Chapter Three

Friend In Me

Days slowly dragged on as Siarya fell into the usual routine of etiquette lessons, tea, dinner parties, and dancing. It was quite exhausting, for everyday was hard work. Of course, the peasants and merchants didn't understand how hard the life of a Royal was. Despite Siarya's endless happiness, being a Royal comes with responsibilities. A peasant couldn't possibly handle anything Siarya does in a day; they simply were not capable enough.

Siarya was sewing an exquisite pillow as a gift for her Governess with Evermarie when she heard the trumpets blowing in arrival. It was the evening of the fifth day of waiting for William to return from a hunting trip.

"Oh my!" Siarya dropped the objects near her bedside when she heard the sounds. "I wonder if they're back. Could it be?"

"I assume there will be some kind of feast if they are," Evermarie replied, still deep into her sewing. "Something to celebrate their hunting accomplishments."

"I should greet them," Siarya gazed into a mirror, studying her appearance. "They may be starved for socialization."

"Alas, sweet sister," Evermarie sounded anxious. "Are you sure you wish to go down there?"

Siarya glanced at her, confused. "What do you mean?"

Evermarie waved her hand dismissively. "Never mind. Go, and come back soon. It would be unladylike to stay up past curfew."

Siarya curtsied to her own sister. "Of course. Goodnight, Marie."

Evermarie murmured farewell as Siarya slipped through the large mahogany doors.

~.~

Siarya scurried down the corridors in anticipation. Perhaps they would be celebrating in the most extravagant dining hall? She smoothed down her dress, hoping it would be flattering enough.

She moved towards the direction of the Hollow's most glamorous dining hall, but stopped short when she heard booming voices and loud laughter coming from farther up the corridor, leading towards one of the courtyards.

Why would they be celebrating there? She thought as her feet pattered against the marble floors. She turned to see a group of laughing men standing near the firelight of the hearth in the middle of the courtyard. People, Siarya knew not, tended to the corpses of the animals they had killed by taking them from the tired men and to the direction of the Hollow butchery.

"And that's how you take out a wild panthra!" A voice boomed out as men laughed. Siarya wondered if they could be any louder. "Give it a slap and it'll act just like a woman!"

Siarya didn't understand the joke, but she recognized the voice. William. He stood in the center of the crowd with a crystal mug in his hand. A brown liquid spilled on his hand as he waved his arm around. "It'll taste just as good, too!"

Men roared in amusement, and Siarya stepped cautiously out from the shadows. She didn't understand the joke they were laughing about. "William?"

The men didn't notice her, and neither did he. He seemed to be distracted by everything else around him as he made jokes. Her heart skipped a beat when she heard women laughing as well; three at the most. Looking closer, she saw two brunettes and a red headed woman.

Siarya tilted her head. The fiery red hair? Again?

"William!" Siarya called out, trying to catch his attention. He didn't notice.

"—and you know what the boar did? He got a horn up his ass. Am I right?!" William boasted as their laughter rumbled like thunder. Siarya felt her hands turning cold.

"William!" Siarya cried out desperately.

"Inside!" They hollered as they stumbled inside the corridor opposite from which she came. Siarya followed aimlessly.

Siarya watched as they filled mugs with beer and whiskey and joked. William was the center of attention as he told stories that the others found utterly amusing. It was when his words began to slur that Siarya finally walked towards him and touched his shoulder.

He raised his eyebrow as he turned his head. Siarya was surprised to see his lovely eyes bloodshot, and how dumbfounded he really seemed to look. But at the sight of her he grinned widely and gave her one of the largest hugs she has ever encountered. Siarya blinked, overwhelmed. The gentleman in William seemed to vanish, for he would have never done such a thing.

"William," Siarya pushed him away. It was a hard feat since he was such a big man. "What's wrong with you? You're not yourself."

"Friends, gather around!" He demanded cheerfully. William grabbed Siarya's waist and held her close, directly under his arm like she was one of his best mates. So much for creating distance, she thought wryly. "We are in the midst of the Princess!"

Siarya swallowed nervously. There was not one man in the nest who didn't frighten her slightly. Some men grinned cheekily and tried to touch her, which Siarya avoided. Some bowed dizzily, nearly falling down in the process, which earned more laughs from the men. Others chuckled and joked about stubborn women.

"Pretty little thing, ain't she?" William boasted, his hand tightening on her hip. For once, she didn't like his compliment. For the first time she didn't like his hands on her.

"William, let me go." Siarya said quietly. She was surrounded by drunken men. This was not a position she was used to, and she could feel the rising panic beginning to come over her.

William chuckled, but he didn't let her go. "I know, sweet thing. But don't you want to have fun? You've been kept up for so long. Gods, I bet you're tight."

Siarya blanched, wondering if she actually understood that reference. But William wouldn't say something so crude. It must mean something else.

Then she saw one of the laughing brunettes being pulled into the shadows by two men. She suddenly felt sick to her stomach. The other brunette and the red-headed woman stood by William. The two women were also intoxicated, it seemed. The red-head giggled as she twirled a lock of Siarya's hair with her forefinger. "I thought you knew, sweetie. William will show you a great—"she hiccupped, "—night."

Everything froze when William put his mouth against the brunette's, his arm still hanging on to Siarya, kissing her like he kissed Siarya in the Rose Garden.

And then it all came rushing to her. Oh Gods.

"William!" Siarya cried out with shock and disbelief. Tears of horror formed in her eyes. She was trapped between two whores and the man she wished to marry; she was caught in the current of sickening twists and menacing kisses. Her stomach threatened to vomit. "Stop!"

Stop this nonsense. Make the fear go away.

William did stop, but only to switch to the red-head. As they kissed, Siarya struggled to get out of his grip. This was wrong—it was all wrong. William was her love, her Charming; how could he do this to her? How could the men just watch and laugh and encourage?

"Where are you going?" He moaned darkly, pulling her in. His hands were moving dangerously close to her breasts, even if they weren't touching skin, "We only just started."

Siarya cried out as he attempted to kiss her. Her struggles only amused him. "It'll be fun…" the red-head whispered in her ear as she whimpered.

He crushed his lips against hers. It felt slobbery and uncomfortable, and most of all, violating. She attempted to push him back, but he held her head with his hand. Forcing her mouth open with his tongue, she squealed in protest as he clawed at her gown.

Stop it. Stop, stop, stop—

She hit and kicked until he forced her onto the ground where he sat on top of her, his legs straddling her and pinning her to the cobblestone. She screamed but he shushed her, clamping her mouth shut with his hand. His eyes were glazed over with intoxication; hers were filled with tears of terror.

No, no, no.

"What the fuck is going on?" A voice called out from behind, sounding almost incredulously bored and annoyed. It was a woman's. "What in the name of—William! Let her go, you ass!"

William stopped momentarily to turn around. Siarya gaped as she saw Niera, still in her slim silver armor. William laughed at the sight of her, however, for she was just another woman. He swiveled himself back around to Siarya, who still lay underneath him. "By all means, come join us."

"Are you deaf? I said let her go." Niera repeated. Siarya breath halted at the deadly, monotonous sound of her voice.

"Or what?" He sneered, holding Siarya with an iron grip as he stood up, pulling her along with him. She gasped at the bruises that were beginning to sprout from his harsh fingers. She was being thrown around like a ragdoll, and yet she was still too terrified to fight back. Something inside Siarya felt gratitude for Niera for being so brave, but her dignity pushed it back.

"Do we really have to go through this?" Niera looked irritated as she took a few slow steps forward. "I've beaten you once, I can beat you again. In front of your buddies this time, I must add. Now do as I say, damn it."

William's cheeks turned beet red from the apparent secret. The laughing men suddenly turned silent in bewilderment. She beat him in combat?

A woman beat the Captain?

Surprisingly, William pushed Siarya towards Niera. Siarya felt her body shaking from sickness and fear. "You can have her. She's useless anyways."

Niera shook her head carelessly as she gripped Siarya's arm tightly. Siarya felt as though she was going to pass out. "Come with me." She whispered.

"The other women…"

"The other women were asking for it. Literally." Niera pulled her by her arm as the men stepped out of their way. It seemed as though some were almost scared of her. She kept Siarya from falling as they moved up the corridor, away from the drunken men and William. Siarya began to sob hysterically.

"Come on, in here." Niera ushered Siarya into what seemed to be one of the guest bedchambers. Siarya, half-blind, stumbled onto the canopy bed as her body wracked with sobs.

"How could he do this to me?" She wailed. "He has broken my heart!"

"And what a heart you have…" Niera murmured as she picked up a log from the crate of wood and threw it into the fireplace. A large crackling fire sprung from the coal.

"The men just stood there and watched! I am Royalty!" Siarya cried.

"It's all shocking, really," Niera replied sarcastically as she sat near the fireplace. It emanated great warmth, but not enough comfort to assuage the anxiety in the nest. "Do you know what they do, Princess? They kill things. They fuck, eat, and sleep, and when they have some free time, they fuck some more. What else could you expect? Kisses and flowers? No. That's too simple for those kinds of men. I don't even know what you saw in Will, for a first."

Will? She thought miserably. Did he like being called Will? Did he always sleep with women when I didn't know?

Siarya continued to cry out like a young child. She picked up a pillow and threw it at the door. "But he loved me!"

"Don't be a fool!" Niera hissed angrily. "Look at yourself; do you think he truly loved you?"

A sudden rage hit Siarya like a stone to her heart. She felt cheated, tricked, betrayed, and humiliated. How could she have been so ignorant? She was beautiful! She was powerful! And yet still she found herself being taken advantage of. For how long?

Siarya sniffled. "I'd watch your tongue if I were you. I could have you reported."

Niera laughed, which shocked Siarya. "Don't forget to add how much you owe me."

Siarya moaned and resumed crying, salty tears and snot running down her face.

"Good heavens, child!" Niera said as she grabbed a handkerchief from the fireplace mantelpiece. "Calm yourself!"

"I—I can't!" Siarya sobbed and took the handkerchief from Niera's outstretched hand. "I'm ruined! I was tricked! I wish to die!"

Niera quickly scanned Siarya's body for any sign of damage. "You're fine."

Siarya whimpered miserably, touching her mouth with the backs of her curled fists. How many times has she kissed William? How many times had she pledged her faith to him? Now her fantasy of happily-ever-after was ruined. He was far from charming.

Niera sighed as she sat on a chair that was closer to Siarya. She leaned back slowly and closed her eyes. "Do you know how exhausting it is to be around you?"

Siarya fumbled with her gown. She did not reply.

Niera chuckled, which momentarily surprised her. "You know, I'm actually kind of glad this happened. It's about time you learned a lesson."

"Pardon?" Siarya's voice cracked.

Niera looked at Siarya. "No one can have a higher opinion of you than I have, and I think you're a slimy, selfish rat of a girl who's never experienced a bit of compassion for others in her entire life. Tell me, Princess, how much do you value yourself over others?"

Siarya, furious, sat up from the bed. This woman, Niera, made her feel inadequate. She hated every bit of it. She hated that she had been stupid, again. She had made the wrong choice, again. After trying so hard, after doing everything she could to make the right choices only—how could she have failed another time?

And what would be the consequences?

She wouldn't dare tell Niera the answer to that question. Instead, she spat out almost violently, "Deceiving others! That is what the world calls a romance? I am perfectly content living in the Hollow where you can't get hurt. William was… a mistake."

"You realize that now?"

"You ought to watch your tongue more." Siarya repeated as she choked on her tears.

Niera narrowed her eyes. "I tend to be direct, Princess. I do not lie, nor do I coat words with sweetness."

"Then… Then you are one of the strangest women I have ever met!" Siarya intended to insult her, but her voice broke making herself sound weaker. She could feel her cheeks burning.

"Look at me, Princess," Niera backed up a few steps to display herself, her arms flourishing upwards. "What do you see?"

Siarya furrowed her brows, feeling somewhat nervous. She didn't want to answer that.

She knew how she viewed Niera before. She remembered the names she had called the woman, the way everything did was barbaric and horrific, like she was part of committing some bigger crime.

Thinking of it now, though, it all seemed far away and pointless. Niera, a woman who had been nothing but a distant vision to criticize, was now up close and just real. No longer a mere sight, but a person, with a mind to speak for. And seeing her now, a new feeling began to boil up inside her, and with a clash of shock she realized it was regret.

Gut-twisting, heart-thudding regret.

And for what? Siarya shook her head, fighting off the urge to answer. Niera was everything that she didn't understand. She was everything that her mother wanted her not to be. She was confusing.

Niera, someone Siarya had called a barbarian, was the woman who saved her. She held more compassion inside of her in the one minute it had taken for her to rescue Siarya from William's grasp than any of the men who had been present for so much longer. She had been the white knight, and no one else—which meant Siarya was wrong.

Again.

Siarya wanted to be honest. She didn't want to be mean.

Yet that was all she had ever been.

And Niera just stood there, waiting for an answer that Siarya wasn't sure how to give. Niera was tall and slim, and Siarya wondered how she could have ever thought she wouldn't be capable of acquiring a husband, because although Niera's beauty wasn't traditional, she was still stunning. The nest was dark other than the vibrant flames in the fireplace, so the bright silver of her armor—an outfit Niera never happened to change out of, it seemed—was dimmed into a plain grey. But the light of the fire caught on her hair, causing her moon-white locks to gleam in long ripples. Her eyes were shadowed and devoid of color, but they were shining and alert with liveliness, a sort of sight Siarya didn't often catch in other people's gazes. It was tough and penetrating, and heavy enough to make it difficult to withstand being under her surveillance. She had the sort of eyes a soldier needed; a vision where she could see everything, like through people's minds, or through an upcoming attack.

Niera was slim and muscled, with a proud stance and a daring posture. She was a storm to be reckoned with, and Siarya could see that just from the way she created her presence.

She was, in conclusion, a woman with a fighting chance. If Siarya had been right about one thing, it was that Niera was certainly no lady, but something else entirely. A commander.

Somehow, Siarya envied that.

After a moment more of thought, Siarya finally spoke, her voice cracking in the process. "I see you."

Niera stopped in surprise, her arms faltering as they fell back to her sides. "And?"

"And what?"

"And what else? What do you see?"

"I told you," Siarya replied tiredly, her tirade of crying and grief beginning to slip away from her. "I just see you."

"Oh, so you're telling me that you don't see a barbarian standing in front of you?" Niera's eyes narrowed dangerously in anger as she took a step forward. Siarya suddenly became apprehensive, knowing this woman could beat her up without a doubt if she wanted to. "You're not going to call me a man, or tell me that I'm destined for—what was it, you said? Marital failure?"

"That was before I really talked to you." Siarya replied defensively. She began to pull at the threads of her gown, and she reminded herself that she should ask her seamstress about all the lose threads.

"So that's just the way you greet people, huh?" Niera glared at her, and Siarya shrunk backwards in fear and shame. "And you have the actual nerve to call yourself charming."

"I don't usually talk to people like I did with you, alright?" Siarya argued, her heart pounding against her ribcage. Her cheeks felt hot with humiliation and guilt, and the burning sensation was beginning to tickle down her neck as well. "In fact, I don't usually talk to people like you at all. I didn't mean to insult you—well, I mean, I did then, but I didn't like you before—but now, I do and so I don't want to insult you anymore, and I really don't want to offend you, it's just that I don't know how to talk to you."

Niera's face twisted into an odd expression, and she shook her head. "Good Gods, child. What are you trying to say?"

"I'm sorry, I guess." Siarya blurted. The words felt unfamiliar on her tongue, and she could physically feel her pride diminishing.

Niera crossed her arms. She was staring at Siarya with a look of interest. "I can bet a lot of gold that you can't remember the last time you said those words to someone."

Siarya blushed wildly and averted her eyes, because no—she couldn't remember. She remained silent and focused on the tapestry on the wall, attempting to slowly take the edge of the embarrassment away.

With a roll of her eyes, Niera sighed. "Your apology was awful. However, because I'm marvelously lenient, I'll accept it."

Siarya huffed angrily, looking up at her. She was beginning to feel fed up with being criticized for one night. She had never felt so wrong in her entire life. "What's the point of this?"

"No point, really," Niera answered simply. She sounded almost amused. "But I have a question."

"What is it?"

She leaned in towards Siarya as if to tell her a secret. "Have you ever used a sword?"

Siarya's eyes widened in response.

"The men in the military don't like training with women, and I need a training buddy," Niera grinned. "And I think you're going to do just fine."