I'll be Watching You!


AN: Finally... another chapter. Sorry about the once again long delay. Good excuses, though: Sick, work, sister hospitalized, and I just became an aunt for the 14th time today! Yep, you saw that right. Fourteenth! Anyway, this is kind of a filler chapter- you'll see. It's short, but I hope you like it anyway! Please forgive spelling/grammer errors as I'm once again too sick to be able to proofread well, and I have no working spellchecker. Thanks!
Thank so much to everyone who read and reviewed last chapter!!! I hope I responded to each of you personally. If not, PM me, and I'll correct the mistake! Thanks again! Here we go....


Every single day
And every word you say
Every game you play
Every night you stay
I'll be watching you...
(I'll be watching you: Sting and the Police)


Eries drummed her fingers on the highly polished wood of the small writing desk she was currently occupying. Outside the window that overlooked the courtyard, she could see servants and soldiers frantically going to and fro to make everything ready for the Princesses' journey to Fanelia. They would be leaving at first light tomorrow morning, and Eries smiled wryly at the thought that perhaps this outcome was Annie's intention in the first place. If so, she'd have to concede this battle to her.

Despite the official announcement over dinner last evening that Lady Annie had been taken ill by a serious affliction of the lungs, the wild rumors were running rampant. She'd caught more than one group of maids twittering behind their hands, and the court ladies were even worse. For once in her life, Eries felt completely helpless to even take her anger out on anyone. Her first inclination was to chastise and somehow repay Annie for being part of such a humiliating spectacle- not to mention for having such bad taste as to do it with Allen Shezar of all people. Unfortunately, that desire completely evaporated the moment she set eyes on the whey-faced girl trying valiantly to smile and act healthy, normal, and strong, despite the fact that Allen was more than half-carrying her into the palace.

Her second, and stronger, inclination to berate and tear Allen into pieces with her bare hands didn't go so very well, either. She drummed her fingers on the desktop harder with a heavy frown just remembering it.

Oh, it had started out just fine. She'd laid into him in an low voice laced with icy fury about the indecency of his actions, and as expected, he withstood it all with a politely bowed head and an unreadable expression. And then suddenly, without warning, he'd snapped! She wasn't even sure what she'd said to him before he'd suddenly pinned her with a powerful glare, volcanic fury in his piercingly blue eyes.

She scowled at her desk in absolute mortification just remembering how he'd tore into her- respectfully, of course- about her cruel idiocity in strapping Annie into what he deemed an 'inhumane torture device'. For Jichia's sake, how was she supposed to know the girl had some kind of breathing problem? And it had been Allen's idea in the first place to get Annie dressed up like that.

The poor handmaiden that interrupted Eries' angry train of thought by bringing her tea tray was unfairly treated to an icy glare of death. Terrified, she backed hastily to the door and nearly ran out of the room. Eries gave an irritated huff of annoyance as she poured herself a much-needed cup of the soothing liquid and took a sip through tightly pursed lips.

The problem was, even when she'd pointed those obvious facts out to Allen, he'd instantly and heartily agreed, willingly taking on more of the guilt than she knew he actually deserved. After all, what did a man, even such a man as Allen Shezar, truly know about the uncomfortable side of women's undergarments?

But something beyond Allen's tongue lashing and the tiny finger of guilt niggling at her consience was bothering Eries. Austuria's middle princess was certainly no fool, nor was she blind or deaf. There was something going on between Allen and Annie, or at the very least, something going on on Allen's end of the relationship. She had never seen him lose his calm, never even heard him raise is voice, over any woman that wasn't his precious sister. Not Marlene, not Hitomi, not anyone. And yet, all Annie had to do was smirk at him a certain way and he flared up. And the way he looked at her...

It was a confusing, surprising, and not altogether welcome mystery, and Eries made a silent, adamant vow to dig her way to the bottom of it, whether the two of them liked it or not. She'd be watching.

Two miles away on the bridge of the Crusade, Allen felt a distinct chill crawl over his spine.


Merle rubbed her tired, sleep-fogged eyes as she made her way to Hitomi's room in the semi-dark of early dawn. There was still too much to do, so much to plan, outfits to be fitted, food preparation to oversee, ceremony schedules to make out, not to mention the impossible task of preparing the bride herself for her imminent wedding. That just might be the most daunting task of all that the cat-girl had to somehow pull off.

Ugh! Hitomi and Van weren't exactly helping with that at all, either. The two of them couldn't stop thinking with their hormones for one day to help her out, could they? Nooooo, they just had to waste her time with whining and moaning, 'Please Merle, just give us five miets to make out like horny adolescents, and then fall into the pond just to make things more complicated for you!'. Why she ever gave in to Van's pleading last night was beyond her.

Merle groused unhappily under her breath as she came to Hitomi's door and charged through it loudly without a polite knock or ceremony. Hitomi sat straight up in bed, her hair in wild tangles around her face as she blinked the sleep out of her eyes blearily. Ignoring her, Merle marched over to the wall and pulled on the maid's bell with three sharp tugs. That ought to send a passel of them running like mad for the room!

"Rise and shine, your majesty," Merle said with a bright smirk. "You've got a lot on your schedule for today."

Groaning, Hitomi flopped back down and covered her head with a pillow. Heaving a sigh, Merle dug her sharp claws into the covers and whipped them off of the girl, then proceeded to do the same with the pillow. Baleful green eyes stared accusingly up at her.

"Merle, are you trying to kill me off before I even make it to your precious wedding ceremonies?" Hitomi demanded angrily.

"No. That would be Van's department, seeing as he's the one who dumped you into a freezing pond last night so you could catch your death. By the way, if you so much as sniffle today, you'll regret ever being born," Merle replied cheerfully.

Three of Hitomi's personal maids bustled in then, completely out of breath from trying to run as dignified a manner as possible through the halls from the servants' quarters. In no time at all, they had their almost-queen plucked out of bed, undressed, washed, re-dressed, and primped under Merle's ever present hawk-like gaze. It was the least she owed her Lord Van, after all, and her country. His famed bride would be nothing less than stunning, or at the very least, perfectly pretty. Honestly, would it have killed Hitomi to grow her hair out a little longer?

"Breakfast," Merle announced when Hitomi's primping was deemed sufficient- for now. The cat couldn't stop herself from rolling her eyes at the way the girl's face lit up in anticipation of seeing Van, even if it was only going to be for a few short minutes. It was ridiculous the way she floated down the hallway toward the breakfast room, although Merle was generous enough to admit that it was sweet in a sappily romantic way. She wouldn't have allowed anyone who loved her Lord Van less to marry him, after all.

Heck, that's why she was doing all this work for their wedding in the first place! Why couldn't either of them understand that? Growling, Merle flung open the heavy wooden door with a good deal more force than necessary and scowled fiercely at the confused, apprehensive look on Van's face. Her tail whipped back and forth furiously when she saw that he'd moved his chair closer to Hitomi's- again. Hitomi literally beamed when she saw him.

Those two were completely hopeless.

"Half an hour," Merle hissed at them before stomping back out of the room. It wasn't like she was trying to make things miserable for them! This gargatuan wedding wasn't going to plan itself, and so help her, if it wasn't going to be perfect, then it wasn't going to happen at all.

Merle's breakfast consisted of a few bites snuck in between puruesing the day's schedule, the guest room layouts, and most importantly, selecting fabrics for one of Hitomi's ceremonial outfits. Someday, when things calmed down again, she was going to splurge and have an enormous breakfast brought to her in bed. And then stay there under the covers all day long.

Twenty-five meits later, she dispatched a few maids to drag the unwilling bride in for her first fitting of the day, having no desire to have to withstand Van's pleading eyes any more than was necessary. And unwilling certainly seemed to fit Hitomi's mood this morning; her expression looked like she was dangerously close to mutiny. Ah, well. Nothing Merle couldn't cope with in a few well-chosen words about Fanelia's honor and the like. Honestly, Hitomi was a lot more easy to manipulate than Van had ever been.

The day moved forward like clockwork. That is, until Hitomi gave a very tiny, very discreet sneeze. The entire room froze as Merle turned slowly on her heel to give her a dark, glowering glare.

"Was that... a sneeze I just heard?" she demanded in a deceptively quiet voice. Hitomi gave a tiny little 'eep!' noise and shook her head violently in denial.

"No! No, of course not. It was just a... it was nothing!" she insisted unconvincingly. Merle stared at her with narrowed eyes, and she swallowed hard. Her nose twitched slightly, and her pink lips puckered up. She blinked furiously in a futile attempt to hide her watering eyes as she wrinkled up her nose. Nobody moved, except for Merle, who put her hands on her hips and waited.

"Achoo!"

Merle threw up her hands in exasperation. "I knew it!" she groaned loudly.

"It's just a sneeze, Merle. It's not a big deal," Hitomi reassured her awkwardly.

"Just a sneeze? Just a sneeze?" Merle shrieked. "That sneeze is going to cost me a whole day's work! Let's move, ladies! Get her out of this dress. You there, go send for the Healers!"

"What the- Merle, what's going on?" Hitomi exclaimed as the maids swarmed her in one anxious mass, multiple hands fumbling with the intricate layers of cloth wrapped around her body. Merle rubbed her temples in an attempt to stave off the massive headache that she could already feel building behind her forehead.

"What do you think? We're getting you into bed before your 'just a sneeze' turns into some full-blown disease."

Hitomi blinked in stupified shock. "You've got to be kidding me. Two sneezes, and suddenly I'm on my death bed?"

"You better hope you're not, or I'll put Lord Van on his," Merle hissed at her as they hustled her out of the fitting rooms and down the hall to her own apartments. Ignoring Hitomi's protests, the maids quickly got her into a thick, comfortable nightgown and popped her into bed. If Merle wasn't so annoyed, she might have laughed at the outright bewildered look on the poor girl's face as she was propped up on her freshly fluffed pillows, buried under a veritable mountain of blankets, and plied with cool drinks by the anxious servants.

The Healers entered the room, and as if on cue, Hitomi sneezed again. Her face turned a mortified scarlett, and she looked about to dive for cover under the blankets.

"It's nothing! Just a tickle in my nose!" she insisted in a squeak as the group descended on her.

An hour later, the Healers finally left after leaving behind a small mound of instructions for the future queen's care. She was not to leave her bed that day, except for a steam bath that evening, she was to drink this concoction and that concoction, above all she was supposed to rest, and on and on and on. Merle's head ached worse than ever by the time she finally left Hitomi under the competent, and occassionally overbearing, care of her small army of maids.

Unfortunately, she'd barely closed the door behind her when Lord Van barreled down the hallway much faster than what could be considered dignified for a King. Great. Just what she needed.

"Merle! What's going on? Is Hitomi okay? What's wrong with her? What-" he fired off at the weary cat-girl, and she held her hands up in feeble protest.

"Hitomi's fine, Lord Van, I swear. She has a slight cold- thanks to your little swimming adventure- and we're taking every precaution to keep it from getting any worse."

"Oh," he breathed out, and his shoulders slumped with profound relief. "Is she awake? May I see her?"

"Absolutely not! In her bedchambers- have you lost your senses completely?" Merle shrieked in a whisper. "Besides, there's no way I'm going to risk you catching that cold, too."
Van gave her the closest approximation to a pout that he could force his chiseled face into. "But, Merle..."

"No buts, Van. I'm not giving in to you again!" Merle interrupted him fiercely. "Look what happened because of the last time you two were together!"

Van had the grace to look sheepish and a little guilty, but even still, she watched him narrowly until he backed off and headed around the corner of the hallway. Ugh! As if she didn't have enough to do! She didn't need to have to work to keep the two of them apart, too!

Shaking her aching head as she stalked off down the hallway, she muttered darkly to herself under her breath. "Stupid wedding's going to be the death of me yet..."


And I've been saving all the letters that I wrote to you
Each one a line or two:
I'm fine, Baby, how are you?
Well, I would send them but I know that it's just not enough
My words were cold and flat-
And you deserve more... than that
(Home: version by Micheal Buble)


The constant, background hum of the levi-ship soothed Dryden's impatient nerves as he stared out at the passing clouds. A messenger from Palas- one paltry minion in his enormous network of spies- had just left his cramped 'office' after delivering one hell of an insteresting report. And not five seconds after the door had shut behind the messenger had Dryden ordered his enormous levi-ship to make a giant U-turn and head for Fanelia at top speed.

So, it seemed little miss Hitomi had made herself a fiesty best friend on that Moon of hers. So fiesty, in fact, that she'd managed to scandalize the entire Asturian court in just under two days. Dryden chuckled to himself mightily. This Annie person was definitely something he had to see!

Only... she wasn't the only person he was hoping to see.

He sighed heavily, an uncharacteristically pensive look on his face as he stared listlessly at the overflowing chest behind his desk. It had been some months since he'd been able get the lid to close over the plethora of sealed letters that spilled over the top and onto the floor in a great, white mound of folded paper. He nudged a few of them with the toe of his boot now as he sighed again. How many had he written since he'd left Palas in the upheaval at the end of the War? And every single one of them sealed and stamped with his personal ensigna, but no name or direction written on the outside.

He should really just burn them all. It was so stupid; there was no way he was ever going to send even one of them. That had never been his intention, not really. But handing Millerna Sara Aston, third Princess of Austuria, his wedding ring and walking away from their arranged political marriage had been the most difficult thing he'd ever done. Truthfully, he just couldn't let her go. So he wrote to her, words spilling from his pen onto the clean paper in copious, often unintelligable scribbles to ease the ache of longing that had settled into his bones about thirty seconds after walking away from her.

Because underneath the swagger, the calm certainty in the way he assured her that he'd make her fall for him, was a terrified man who found himself irrevocably in love and completely unsure just what he was supposed to do about it. Not to mention that pesky bit about Millerna actually believing she might be in love with that ghastly, pompous, ridiculous, pretty, playboy Allen Shezar complicating things to no end.

And now he was racing toward Fanelia instead of Austuria because that's where she was headed. Six years. It had been over six years since he'd last seen her innocent, beguiling face under the flimsy pretense of 'becoming the man she deserved'. That had been true, in some ways, but when he allowed himself to be honest, he knew that mostly he'd been looking for a way to run. What he and their fathers were doing to her wasn't fair, and he couldn't stand being a part of it any longer. If Millerna Sara Aston was going to be his wife, then he wanted her to do it under her own free will and because she wanted it as badly as he did. Only now, after six long years without her, his only contact with her the paltry rumors and reports from his minions and the idiotically sappy letters he wrote but never sent, Dryden was beginning to think he'd take whatever he could get.

Going to see her in Fanelia was a fool-hardy, stupid idea. Because this time, he wasn't altogether certain that he would be able to walk away again. Sighing, he nudged the letters with his foot once more. He really should burn them.

Someday.


Tomorrow. They were leaving for Fanelia tomorrow.

Millerna couldn't stop the nervous, fluttering butterflies from dancing around her stomach at the very thought. If ever there was a time, if ever there was an occasion, Van and Hitomi's wedding had to be the one thing that brought him back from wherever he was.

Him. Dryden Fassa. Her enstranged husband of six and a half long years. Millerna didn't even know what she felt at the thought of seeing him again. Dread? Anticipation? Longing? Anger? He'd never come back, even though she'd sub-consciously waited for him to do just that. She'd waited, however foolishly, for him to swagger back into her life and sweep her off her feet just like he'd promised he would.

That's what he'd said, hadn't he? That he would make her fall for him, because he loved her? And yet, the years passed, and she'd never even had so much as a rumor about him. Even Meiden Fassa was close-lipped about his son's whereabouts, though Millerna could hardly ask him directly about it. No, that would make it look like she actually cared where her errant husband was and what he was doing, and that simply wouldn't do. What if it got back to Dryden somehow?

She didn't care. She didn't! At least, that's what she told herself over and over in a futile attempt to stop the treacherous path of questions her mind wandered down every night. He'd lied to her, after all. He'd said he loved her, but then he'd just walked away! Walked away and never even bothered to send her one letter, one note, one anything. Six years of silence.

She'd written him a letter. Just one, on their one year anniversary. She'd begged him to come home. She'd told him she missed him, that she wanted to see him again. She'd told him...

But it didn't matter. He'd never seen that letter. She'd tucked it safely away in the bottom drawer of her personal desk and had never pulled it out again since. Her pride wouldn't allow it.

Millerna straightened her spine and lifted her head to it's highest height as she watched the gathering dusk darkening the sky. If Dryden was going to make an appearance at the marriage ceremonies of their mutual friends, then she would deal with it. She would be calm, cool, collected, every inch an Austurian Princess, and she would never let him see that he affected her in any way.

She would show him just how much she didn't need him. And that letter would stay locked away in her drawer where it belonged.