The mahogany table was meticulously clean, and the red velvet curtains drawn. The firelight from the silver candle-stand brings a cozy warmth into the grand dining room. It was another typical evening for Trieze Khushrenada, sitting at the end of the long dining table with Mariemaia on his right, waiting patiently for dinner to be brought in at seven hours sharp.

The seventh hourglass ran out of sand. As if on cue, the maid-servant marched smartly into the dinning room, carrying the dishes of cold appetizer into the room. Treize let out a dashing smile at the maid when she set down the dishes. She returned the smile somewhat timidly, but he grabbed her hand as she turned to go. Stunned, she tried to withdraw her hand, but found that the master's grip was unreasonably firm.

With his smile unwavering, Trieze, as if he was asking something as mundane as the time, questioned the maid in a conversational tone.

"Unlike other nobility who don't bother to know their staff, I know very well that it should be Jane serving dinner today. So my charming lady, do you mind telling me who are you and what are you going to do?"

Her reflexes were lightning-quick. Dropping all forms of pretense immediately, the maid used her free hand to draw a dagger hidden under her apron and raised it to stab the man before her. But before she could bring down the weapon, a strong hand seized her wrist from behind, squeezing her with a bruising strength that caused her to let go of the dagger. The blade dropped on the floor with a resounding clang.

Twisting and struggling against her captors, the maid turned and saw that it was a masked man who had caught her hand from behind. She started to kick at everything within her reach in blind panic, knowing that an assassin caught alive was usually subjected to a fate far worse than death, especially when she could not afford to reveal her patron even under torture...

"Don't worry."

The soft girlish voice cut through her efforts, and she momentarily stopped to look at the young redhead sitting calmly at the table, her feet dangling a good six feet above the floor. Mariemaia was covering her eyes with her hands in a childlike way.

"My father doesn't need you alive."

Then everything went black as the masked man cut her throat. Her body slid quietly down the floor, with her blood gradually pooling on the floor.

Lifting Mariemaia in his arms, Trieze proceeded to put his trembling daughter to bed early.


"Thank you, Zechs."

Receiving his steaming mug of rose tea from the masked man with flowing long blonde hair, Trieze sank into his armchair and let out a heavy sigh, before motioning to Zechs for him to sit down too.

Barton had sent his assassin - that was too predictable. Now all he had to do was to announce the attempt on his life and how his royal token had gone missing after the incident. The rest of his plan would play itself out. It was only a matter of time before the blonde slave sold the jewel he gave him.

And it was no ordinary jewel, of course. It was a seed of destruction - the beginning of the downfall of the Barton family. The pendent that he gave that slave bore the Khushrenada crest - it was the royal token given to the Khushrenada name - the proof of the ownership of their fiefdom. It was not something that could be sold unnoticed in the marketplace.

If a slave from the Barton household tried to sell the Khushrenada pendent after a mysterious failed attempt on Duke Trieze's life... The implications were many. A confession from the assassin was not needed to convict Barton of his crimes.

Trieze's only regret was that it was that particular slave he had to use. The boy looked exactly like Lady Winner - with those accusing eyes that haunted him in his dreams.

Before he could let out another sigh, the masked man took his cup of hot tea from his hand and leaned in for a kiss. Trieze closed his eyes and let it wash through him, allowing himself to temporarily forget all the demons in his head.


Noticing the look of unease on Quatre's face, Trowa forced himself to stop leaning forward and sat straightened beside the blonde, contended with only wrapping his arm around Quatre's waist. Quatre had become much more passive and quiet since Trowa's confession. Perhaps it was because Quatre no longer had any reason to please him now that he knew he was not the real master of the Barton family? Yet Trowa was glad for the change. He had the feeling that he was getting closer and closer to the real Quatre.

"Sorry."

A pause. Trowa waited patiently for elaboration.

"I'm really sorry for dragging you into this."

Quatre looked straight at Trowa with sad blue eyes that were not entirely apologetic, but rather reflecting regret. The blonde's fa硤e had fallen completely, but there was no warmth and love beneath the surface - a sudden aloofness, a hard determination, was revealed. Trowa surprised himself when he found that he could not care less. If he could not make Quatre trust him, at least he could show that he trusted Quatre.

Flopping unceremoniously down so that he was lying perpendicular to the side of his bed with his legs dangling down the side, Trowa smiled at the serious expression on Quatre's face. The blonde opted not to follow his example and remained sitting on the edge of the bed, absentmindedly stroking Heavyarms who was curled on his lap. He did turn to face the brunette though. Trowa closed his eyes and quite out of the blue, began a monologue.

"It"s properly common knowledge that Dekim Barton had two children. Leia Barton married Trieze Khushrenada fourteen years ago and died nine years later, leaving behind a daughter named Mariemaia for the Duke. Trowa Barton on the other hand, was much younger than Leia."

Cracking open his eyes, Trowa saw that he had caught Quatre's interest, as the blonde looked attentively at him and waited patiently for him to continue. Letting another half-smile grace his lips, Trowa closed his eyes and resumed his narration.

"But Trowa Barton cannot be as young as me. He should be well in his late twenties."

Quatre promptly smacked himself soundly on his forehead at the statement, mentally berating himself for not noticing something as obvious as that sooner. Annoyed by the movement, Heayarms got up and stretched with a loud yawn before jumping down on the floor and wandered off. Not-Trowa smiled smugly but otherwise ignored the strange smacking sound, and continued with his eyes still closed.

"My real name was Trition Bloom. I lived with my sister in the circus. You could say that we are children of the circus, for we never knew our parents but we found our family with the traveling troop. Perhaps you have even seen me before we met. We have performed all over Sank."

Of course not. I was not allowed out of the house, let alone going to a circus.

Oblivious to Quatre's mental reply, Trowa drone on in a near dream-like voice, monotonous but nonetheless still captivating due to the enigma of the story.

"It was just mere coincidence that I was standing there when I saw the real Trowa Barton being shot by a stray arrow. I was feeding the lions, minding my own business...and suddenly 'phew' then 'thud'. This boy had fallen right next to the lion cage, with an end of an iron arrow sticking out from his chest. Duke Dekim, flanked by his guards, was running at us. Trowa Barton might have sneaked away from his body guards to see the lions after the show... after all, a teenage nobleman is still a curious teenager above anything else... but to assassins and their patrons, a teenage nobleman is still a target and potential court rival not matter the age."

I had always thought that my father was paranoid in not letting me out of the house. Now here is the living...I mean dead proof that my father was right, shoved right up my nose. Ha. My father was wiser than that Dekim fool. But at least Trowa got to see the circus...

"Being the sole witness of the incident that was not from the Duke's household..."

"I can figure out the rest. Dekim was an old spinster who is unlikely to produce another child. Losing his sole heir will cause unrest and enmity among the nobles under him to compete for his position after his death, and this will weaken his power and invite attacks from other feudal lords. By purchasing you as a substitute however, he can stop you from leaking out the news of his son's death, and get a marionette to play the role of his heir..."

Quatre left the sentence hanging and sighed. Not entirely surprised that the blonde pieced the rest of the puzzle with ease, Trowa gently pulled at Quatre's arm until he gave up and lay down beside the brunette. Quatre sighed again.

"You should not love me. You should not trust me enough to tell me all this. You don't even know who I am."

The barton heir pushed himself up and flipped over - lying belly down and resting on his elbows. He proceeded to curl the soft blonde locks on Quatre's forehead around his index finger, until the blonde got irritated by this display of tenderness.

"Didn't you hear what I said? I may be dangerous!You should not love a stranger like me!"

"But you are not a stranger." Trowa deadpanned. "You are Quatre. You are from the Winner lands because you used the analogy 'like a camel that doesn't drink at the waterhole' to describe me who doesn't know how to dance. You are well educated. You know the ballroom dance so well that you can do blindfolded, and you know the importance of an heir to a feudal lord. You are therefore nobility in the Winner lands. Probably quite close to the Winners too, if the Winner incident has forced you to flee to Barton's territory."

Quatre was dumbstruck. And there he thought he had been careful in hiding his identity but this meddling busybody here had got it figured all out in like...five seconds? If it wasn't a known fact that the Winners have no children, Trowa could have deduced his true identity, and said, in that endlessly annoying matter-of-fact manner of his: But you are no stranger. You are Quatre Winner.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

But Thank you for your foresight, father!

"Don't worry, I won't tell father. He is too busy with the prince's disappearance to mind us too much anyway. But...can I ask of you something in return?"

Feeling quite defeated at the moment, Quatre looked meekly at the really-perceptive-not-heir person and nodded quite obediently. That brown-haired smartass dared to grin at the blonde's response, which immediately earned him a glare from those seething blue eyes.

"I don't know and don't really care what you have up your sleeve. But can you please leave Duke Dekim out of it? After all, he has been good to me and my circus family all this years..."

Quatre unconsciously reached for the piece of jewel that Treize had given him in his pocket. Quickly running the possibilities through his head, Quatre decided that, indeed, Dekim could be left out from his plans. His only target was Treize.

"For all that you have done for me and which none I truly deserve...this I can promise you, Triton Bloom. I will not harm Duke Dekim."

Heavyarms jumped on the bed and settled herself between the two humans. Yawning out of boredom, she could not understand how the two of them managed to talk for so long without sleeping or playing. It must suck to be human and without a tail - she thought, as the aquamarine ring shone brightly around her neck.


AN:

I know I am slow. I know. I should have updated sooner. Grr.

Anyway…

Sorry Quatre for making you look this uncool in this chapter…but you should allow Trowa to have his moment of triumph! Being Cool! Intelligent! Sexy! Ahh! Fangirl Scream!

So you see Quatre, it's really for your benefit.

Thank you all my dear reviewers!!

Scrtshdfgry - Thank you please enjoy the new chapter!

Mizuki hikari - indeed, TQ looks cute together.. :) but there will be more angst later...

Markanovanlink - Thank you for your continuous support! Ah...poor Q...but there's always Trowa to comfort him! Wee!

ChilledFlame - Thank you for telling me what you like about the story I like proactive Quatre too (that's why I'm writing this fic :P) but now, will Quatre chooses Trowa over his duty? That's the question. XD

Maskelle - Thank you for reading something that you are not familiar with. I don't read enough 1x2 too. bleah.

BigSister2 - sigh. School. I'm sooo slow. But I really appreciate your long review! I just love to torture Quatre (geez, I love to torture the characters I love) I got really worked up writing the Trieze/Quatre kiss, because it is really tough on Q... (even though 13x4 is one of my guilty pleasures) Thank you for reading!

Rowen raven - Quatre the Oscar Winner! (pun intended) And I share your sadist streak, heehee. Though Trieze has his own agenda and Quatre isn't as successful as he thought himself to be.

Gecko Osco - wee I've replied you in my letter, but that's so long ago and I still haven't gotten around to read more of your fics... I'm enjoying your little mermaid fic though! Thank you!

NatsumiNeko - hurt and comfort (sighs dreamily) Trowa almost figured out the true identity of Quatre in this chapter, smart boy. And Heavyarms gets a cameo appearance and a simple happy life! XD

Dentelle-noir - Thank you! This fic is not dead...it's just progressing really slowly due to this unfortunate condition called procrastination by the author. Aww. I suck.

Phoenixfirekitsune - Trieze is being somewhat nice to Quatre for his own agenda...aww...does that make him a jerk?

KaL KeY - ahh...why did Quatre cry again? I think it's more alongthe line of guilt...

Jess-eklom - Thank you! Yeah...Trowa should have let him run just like that...and as for Trieze and Dekim... well, it'll spoil the fun if I say anything. :)