AN: I'm uncertain as to why some people thought this was over. Just because the Queen's been buried doesn't mean that the story is over; I've said that it isn't in order (though it is right now) and when it is finished I shall tell you. Alright? Alright. Now, reviews are appreciated. This update comes with a longer wait than usual because I was at Anime North over the last weekend. I was one of the many, many Tifa Lockhearts though I traveled with a Panty and a girl in an Alice in Wonderland dress so perhaps some of you may have seen me.

Shadows

Princess Rosalyn was dressed in a soft green linen gown, embroidered with sea-foam and crisp white with pearls lining the neckline and bodice. The skirt was airy and billowed in the breeze. The dainty white heels with shiny silver buckles clicked on the stone when she walked and completed her outfit for the day. She tilted her head and stared at her brother.

"That is final, Rose. You shall not visit Bowerstone again, understand?" He hardly looked up from the papers he had scattered across his desk in the war-room. Her eyes narrowed faintly and she hummed vaguely. He looked up at her this time, eyes dark and displeased, and gestured with his fountain pen. "Have I made myself clear?"

"Oh of course, brother," Rosalyn smiled brightly, trailing her eyes over the scar forming on his lip and the shadows under his eyes. "I hardly liked the bustle of town as it was."

Logan frowned at her and she continued to smile, idly peering around his office, until he sighed and murmured that she could leave.

"Are you dining with me?" she asked, pausing at the door, head canted to one side.

"Perhaps, if I finish this work," her brother said shortly, looking at her pointedly. She laughed and ducked out as if she were embarrassed. Outside the room, Eliot waited with her dog and they both looked up when she emerged and shut the door behind her.

Rose knelt and reached for the furry beast. Reaver nosed under her chin and pressed against her knees. She ruffled his ears and tugged at his scruff and he squirmed and fell on his side to beg for a belly-rub. She rolled her eyes and stood – smiling when her boy whined and nosed at her hand.

"Logan is working now," she informed her companion. "I'm not to leave the castle grounds anymore."

Eliot looked at her sceptically. She shrugged inelegantly and he sighed. "If that's what the King thinks is best," he said agreeably. She knew he wondered why she was accepting this restriction. Princess Rosalyn started down the hallway, ignoring the salutes from the guards, and listening to Eliot's startled pause and muttered curse.

"What's in store for today then, Rose?"

She skipped a little and grinned sideways at him. He'd only started to call her by name in the past few years: when Walter had started to train with him a little and insisted that everyone in his training ring was equal. Rose didn't like swords but she knew the appropriate forms and was required to practice them on a fairly regular basis which meant she was often in the ring, learning how to stand, how to show respect and how to very subtly insult. Walter thought fencing ridiculous, of course, but he helped her tutor teach her the stances.

"I was going to meet with Samuel today. He wanted to talk to me about the Academy." Rose liked Samuel; he had been handpicked by her mother to run the school and had taken to visiting once a week to speak with the Princess about anything and everything.

"Why do you want to meet with him?"

"He recently came into possession of a book I've been searching for. I've been waiting months for this visit." Rose tilted her head at an out-of-place maid as she passed and the woman curtsied.

"Mister Samuel is waiting for you in the library, Your Highness," she demurred.

"Thank you, Anne," the princess replied absently – already amending her course. The maid smiled haltingly at the Princess' knowledge of her name but waited for the girl to leave the immediate area before scurrying away with a pale face.

The library was tucked away under the grand staircase, almost directly below the throne room. It was lined with books and had four statues – one in each corner – and four tables set up in neat rows. There was a short hallway that led to a door out to the back gardens on one side of the room and the doors were currently flung open to let in a fresh breeze and a bit of late-afternoon sunlight.

Samuel looked up from arranging a selection of books when she entered and offered a shallow bow to the princess. She bee-lined for the books and inspected them with curious eyes and lightly flitting hands.

Her brow furrowed faintly and she looked up. Samuel inclined his head toward a book set off to the side and she gently picked it up, turning it over in her hands and fingering the embossed leather cover thoughtfully.

"This is the book?" she asked.

"It is not the exact book I'm afraid, Your Highness," Samuel looked a slight bit upset that she had picked up on it so quickly. "The exact book is likely packed away in the Old Castle and we will never see it. This is written by your mother, however, and she mentions the contents of the original directly several times."

"Are you still trying to get Reaver's diary?" Eliot asked, eyeing the books askance and frowning faintly.

"Don't be silly, Eliot," she waved a negligent hand at her companion. "Reaver is hardly that entertaining. I'm trying to find my mother's journal; specifically, I want the section that recounts her time in Bloodstone."

"Whatever for?"

Rose smiled and skimmed the first few pages of the book curiously. "Oh, this is rather good, isn't it? Thank you, Samuel." She continued to thumb through the pages idly.

He watched the Princess with a careful expression and hesitantly spoke again. "About the diary, Your Highness…"

Rosalyn blinked innocently at Eliot's triumphant shout. She frowned at his pointed finger, however. "Rude," she scolded even as he rolled his eyes and stared at her with a smug smirk.

Samuel was smiling tentatively at the interaction and trembled only faintly when the Princess turned golden-hued brown eyes at him expectantly. "The Hero Queen was the last to own a copy, Your Highness, and I never received the diary after her death. If it is not in the castle, I am afraid I cannot find a copy of it."

Rose looked disappointed but smiled a little at the Academy's caretaker. "That's perfectly alright, Samuel. I suppose I shall resign myself to never reading it."

"As you say, Your Highness," he murmured with a bow. The Princess swept out of the room with Eliot hastily saying his goodbyes to the other male behind her before he came jogging back to her side.

"I knew you were still looking for that diary," he informed her.

She huffed. "If there is one thing I dislike about my brother, it is his refusal to open the old study. Mother kept all sorts of interesting things in there. My aunt may have been killed in the dratted room, but that is no reason to lock it up now when even she did not!"

Eliot blinked at her. "You sounded oddly like Master Reaver just then," he said.

She laughed suddenly – all musical and gentle – and looked at him through her lashes with a slow smile curving her Cupid's bow lips. "Did I? I shall have to remember to tell him that at supper."

"He's coming here for supper? Isn't supper for family?"

"Don't be ridiculous. Supper is simply less formal than dinner; it has absolutely no restrictions on guests." They had reached the entrance hall and Rose brightened immediately at the sight. "Speaking of guests!" she exclaimed just loudly enough to be heard, holding out both hands and striding forward.

Reaver turned from leering at a passing butler and smirked wickedly at the Princess. "Ah! Your Highness, a pleasure as always!" He took both her hands in his and bowed over them – nearly brushing his hat against the top of her head. Eliot hung back, just out of sight, letting his friend greet the Head of Industry without interference. Rose grinned at the tall man and let him tuck her arm against his side as she made a graceful gesture with her head to continue into the castle.

"I was looking for your Diary again," she informed him, after they had taken their seats in the informal dining room and had been served beverages and appetizers. "It would be ever so much easier if you would just convince my dearest brother to open the old study."

"I thought the Princess liked a challenge, hm?" Reaver was delighting over the wine selection for the meal and only glanced up to grin silkily at the sweet curve to Rose's smile.

"Dratted man," she said fondly. "Why my mother never killed you, I'll never know."

"Sparrow always did enjoy our little repartees," he replied jubilantly.

"Queen Sparrow, Reaver," Logan growled from the doorway. The man rose to bow, as did Eliot, while Rosalyn tipped her head demurely at her elder sibling. "What are you two talking about, as it was?"

"Nothing so serious, brother," Rose waved her hand and flashed a brilliant smile, complete with shining eyes and a sort of happy jump in her seat. Logan eyed her with fond exasperation but took his place at the head of the table – calling quickly for more wine and the main course. Rosalyn hummed idly at the roast duck brought forth and wrinkled her nose a little. "Duck is so…gamey."

"Rose."

She sighed theatrically. "Yes Logan, I'll eat it. Though I really would like some lamb."

"Why do you enjoy lamb so much?" Eliot asked quickly. Rosalyn's lips pulled back from her teeth in a grin that was just this side of vicious. Logan glanced up, startled at her expression, and she tempered it with a soft look from behind long lashes.

"Sheep are too tough when they're fully grown, I find. While still young, they are…succulent."

Reaver laughed and she tilted her head at him graciously despite Logan's exasperated look. "Your Highness has fine tastes," he murmured over the lip of his goblet. "I know Queen Sparrow had quite a few exotic cookbooks in her possession – from Samarkand, I believe. Perhaps Your Majesty might have them retrieved from the Queen's Study?"

"I am not opening the study just so you may fight with Reaver over his diary," Logan said curtly, not deigning to look at either of them.

Rose frowned. "You are absolutely no fun at all, Logan," she informed him. "Besides which, I would not fight with Reaver over his blasted diary."

"Of course not, you'd just burn and salt his dead body so you could enjoy reading all his secrets in peace," Eliot muttered darkly.

Reaver chuckled and Rosalyn sniffed haughtily. "I suppose we shall never know what I would do with the real diary, will we? So stop suggesting I'm a sort of murderer – in front of the man in question, too," she scolded.

Logan diverted the topic to matters pertaining to some new security measures he planned to implement and the rest of the supper was nothing but easy conversation or statistics until Eliot asked to be excused and Rosalyn bid her brother goodnight. She brushed her hand along Reaver's shoulders as she left the room, eyes golden and gleaming, and he tipped his head at her, smirking a challenge while Logan was otherwise occupied.

"I did try," he murmured in passing, as she stood in the shadows of the hall and he prepared to exit to his carriage late in the evening after Logan had retreated to his chambers for the night.

"I do enjoy a challenge," she replied. He barked a laugh and left under her smirking golden eyes.

End.