Crimson Rain

by The God Slayer

Decades after the planet has finally known peace, through great sacrifice and struggle, something ancient and sinister stirs beneath the surface. A mad man rises with power the world thought was extinct and declares war on the planet, igniting a turn in history millenniums in the making.

10. Let You Down

Let You Down

Terra had left him without a word once he convinced her to get off the floor and see Cambyses. She was furious, and sad and terrified. And at that moment she hated seeing his face. He understood, and he knew it didn't mean anything but temporary anger. So he had done as she silently requested and left her to deal with it all. When she was with their son, which was most of the time, he stayed clear of the wing of the castle.

It was beginning to drive him insane and on the third day he found himself with a pass to go and see his son, as his wife suddenly appeared. He was working in his study, pushing screws and bolts around the table top, when she appeared by the door. The anger had vanished in her eyes and now there was disappointment. He had a long way to go, it seems.

"Cambyses wishes to see you. He...he has something to tell you."

Edgar couldn't find the strength to ask her if she hated him. "Has...has he said anything to you?"

Terra's eyes narrowed in a way that told Edgar she was about to cry. "Too much." and then she walked away as silently as she had come in.

When he found himself outside his son's door, he stood and thought about what to say for a few minutes and when he realized nothing sounded good, he just went in. His son was awake and leaning against the backboard of his bed. His torso was bare to the world, revealing bandages across his abdomen and racing up toward his left shoulder. Everything else that was not covered in bandage was covered in grotesque scars. His face fared better than his body but still held signs of inhumane treatment. There was one long scraggly line down his left temple leading straight into his hair line and his right eye and lips were still bleeding here and there.

Edgar then noticed that Cadence was sitting beside him, holding his hand tightly. When they both saw him, they went silent until Cadence stood and left the room with a bowed head. As soon as the door closed Cambyses sighed. "Father...we need to talk." Reluctantly Edgar found the seat Cadence once occupied.

"You will never forgive me...I understand."

"No," Cambyses said firmly before he looked away from his father, ashamed. "It isn't you...I can never forgive myself. For all that I have ever done."

Edgar's brows bunched in confusion. "What are you talking about, son? You have done everything right. It isn't your fault I went to war and it isn't your fault I was foolish enough to grant you a seat beside my suicide mission. If I had just stayed here, taken care of you...and Emma...we wouldn't be in this mess. You wouldn't have been caught and I...I wouldn't have had to trade Emma."

"Like I said," Camb muttered almost hotly. "It isn't you...it is what I have done. I have never been a good son. I've never even been a decent brother. I treated Emma like she wasn't even apart of our family; I made fun of her, I laughed at her problems, I ridiculed her...I hated her."

Edgar's eyes widened at that. "Camb...we both know that isn't true—"

"But it was true," he insisted. "I hated her because she was constantly on your mind, and on mother's mind. Sabin and Locke, and the rest of your friends always talked about her. 'I wonder what Emma would do', or 'I bet Emma would love this!'. I hated her for the attention I thought she was getting. All those gifts, all those letters and all of that time with the likes of Gau and Relm. I didn't even think she deserved to be there with them. I wanted her gone, father, I wanted her to just disappear off the face of the planet so that I could have my family back."

So his earlier thoughts and that of his friends was right...all those remarks he had made toward Emma had merit. But Edgar could recall one day in Thamasa were the boy confirmed himself via a deal they had made so long ago that he didn't hate her or she him. Had that been a lie too?

"And I never even realized those gifts meant nothing, that those letters were just a continuous show that she was alone, with no mother and father to...to tuck her in at night or to tell her that they loved her. I didn't see it, I didn't want to. And—And then you and mother made that stupid deal with me. That's when I realized...I didn't hate her...or rather, my hate wasn't truly aimed at her. I misplaced myself father...I was angry with myself and I was angry with you and mother."

Angry at us? For what? Edgar asked exactly what he was angry about. "You have to ask?" he corked his brows at his father and then shook his head. "You took her away...Ben and I never had the chance to know our sister. Because she wasn't around, we fostered a jealousy and anger that was confused itself."

"You know why we sent her away Camb, we told you this long ago."

"I know!" he snapped. "I know! You told me when I was nine years old! You think I was ready to hear that? That my sister could be violently ripped from my mother's arms and killed for what she was given if she wasn't sent away like a burden?!"

"So you hate us for trying to protect your sister?"

Cambyses relaxed, managing to calm himself. "No. I don't hate you. I don't hate Emma. I hate myself for how I reacted to everything, to how I let it rule my life. I understood why you and mother sent her away yet the anger and jealousy ate at me and I placed it on Emma. That day...when I picked her up...I saw just how lonely and misplaced she was, how she felt. I realized all of my feelings didn't matter, that Emma wasn't getting special treatment because she was born like mother...that Ben and I weren't be secluded. I realized that my anger toward you and mother was empty...you did the best you could. I was the problem. And now...now Emma will suffer because of it, because I waited until this moment to realize how selfish I had been, that I waited until this moment to realize I let myself follow my misplaced anger."

"Cambyses, stop this. You aren't causing any—"

"—you don't understand," he cried out suddenly. "I told him everything! I told him...I told him." at this point he tried to hide his tears by wiping them away. "I let you down...I let Emma down."

"What did you tell and to whom?"

"Derell Aluza," he answered. "I told him everything about...about Emma. I—I couldn't take the beatings, I couldn't take the food deprivation...I couldn't take the threats against Cadence or the rest of you anymore. He—he killed Rose, tossed her head at my feet like she was nothing but trash!"

"Cambyses..." he had to calm his son down, to get the vital information. He prayed to the Gods that his son had kept himself from telling Derell about... "Cambyses you need to tell me what you told Derell. What do you mean 'everything' about Emma?"

The prince looked horrified. "Everything."

"Gods," Edgar whispered, unable to move or say anything else.

---

It was cold and dark, and it was a long time before she realized where she was.

A cell.

A cell without any windows. A cell without any bedding. A cell where the floor slanted back in such an angle it made sitting up straight or lying up straight absolutely impossible. A cell littered with the skeletons of a dozen different people, some of which were still decaying in the sharp corners of the cell. Above, swinging lazily, was a simple light, dull orange and flickering.

She thought she had seen the last of cells...she never expected to be tossed into another practically by the hands of her own father.

And yet, with the anger and betrayal she felt from her father's actions, it was now the furthest thing from her mind. She was in the hands of insane war mongers, two of which had...she shook her head, trying to get rid of the flashback of Luke and Eric and that moldy, dark house.

A shudder ran through her, both from the cold and her fear. Be brave, she thought weakly, closing her eyes as tightly as she could. Be strong...just like they said. Be strong. When she opened her eyes again she couldn't help but peak toward the skeletons and decaying corpses, regardless of her fear. She wondered just who they were and what they did to deserve this kind of treatment, and what they were thinking as they slowly died...

Emma licked her lips and looked away, curling up against herself in the awkward angle of the room, unable to feel any form of comfort. Slowly she fell asleep, unaware of just how tired and hungry she was.

When she woke again it was due to a grating sound. Groggily she looked upward, trying to look for the source, and saw that a large light was beginning to form ahead of her. It was a door! And in from the light source came four soldiers...Alúzari soldiers! She froze, staring wide eyed at them and hoping maybe they weren't here for her, but then the middle soldier gestured to her and unbolted a chain lock as his men carefully slide down the angled floor to retrieve their prisoner.

Emma screamed and kicked as loudly and as hard as she could, but the men were too strong or perhaps they were just good at masking any discomfort. Her flailing made it difficult to get her passed the door so the middle soldier handed the chains over and then stood before Emma, rather calmly, arms crossed.

"Listen up girl, if you continue to be difficult we will have no choice but to beat obedience into you. I would not like it, but I would have to do it." her struggling didn't stop. "If you be good," he said again, trying his hardest to control himself. "We won't hurt you. I promise." she almost stopped instantly, watching his face for any change or sign of his dishonesty. She couldn't find it and relaxed in her captor's arms. He smiled. "Good. If you keep up the good behavior, you can expect a much nicer life here." he signaled for his men to move and then turned away.

The soldiers dragging her were awfully silent and had no expression on their face. Their dark mood matched perfectly, she saw, with her surroundings. They emerged from a stair case into a open yard a good mile in each direction. There was nothing but smooth stone and soldiers marching by in unison. Tall towers, as black as night, stretched far into the sky, disappearing into the fog of the early morning. Long stretches of odd stone walls of the same color raced around her in a perfect circle, trapping her.

It was a castle yard. She could tell by the architect, or rather, she could recognize patterns that suggested it. However, she had never heard of a castle using a court yard as an entrance to containment facilities...not once. It was out in the open, a weakness. How could one prevent eyes from seeing when it was displayed so openly?

That's when she turned her head to glance back at the dark hole they crept out of. She was struck in fear and awe to see that the floor was closing behind her, as quiet as a mouse. When it was finished, it looked like the ground never had a hole to begin with. The only thing she could think of was magic, but she knew as well as every other inhabitant of this planet, that magic had died over twenty years ago...

The move toward the western wall was slow and hot as the fog and clouds rolled out of the way of the sun, allowing blistering heat to scorch the Gaia. The soldiers, despite clearly being effected—for they were red in the face and dry of lips—continued dragging her along right behind their captain. Yes, she knew enough to realize the man's position. The country and its customs were strange to her, but it was apparent by the green ribbon around his arm and the four stars sewn into it. The two dragging her along were in dreary light beiges and greens, highlighted here and there with black—they wore no ribbon of any color, or any form of badge.

Maybe, if she were lucky, this king would have a shred of humanity in him, a shred of compassion as this captain displayed earlier.

Soon they were through the double doors—oiled so thoroughly by ebony stain that it was just as black as the walls with giant silver knockers and handles—and she could see that compassion was the furthest thing from the king's mind.

Slaving away in thick chains and in rags were small children, washing the stone flooring with thick, bristled combs. They were as skinny as anyone could be and still be alive, and as pale as the moon. Some of them were no older than six years old but all of them were girls, not a single boy laid on his hands or knees among the cleaners. Was there a gender class? What kind of life was she supposed to expect, especially so as one of the king's personal exchange prisoners?

As they passed the girls, one of the children looked up at her and displayed one of her eyes were missing. It was just a black, empty socket, horribly healed in such a way it looked even more grotesque. The poor child was also missing three fingers on her left hand and had large burns running down her neck. Emma tried not to gasp in horror at her, to prevent the child from feeling any worse than she must already feel.

The pause was long enough for the child's watcher to notice both the soldiers standing there with a new prisoner and his own worker just idling by. He came over and whipped her across the back, and barked, "Get back to work, wench!" with a cry the girl went back to scrubbing and the watcher looked up to glare at Emma. "New meat. Could always use another girl for the boys in the eastern tower." that caused Emma to tug away from her captor in fear.

The captain of the group restraining her shook his head. "She's off limits until the king says otherwise. You know this Jeck. This one was a personal exchange by our king."

The man Jeck looked at Emma with a odd stare, clearly disappointed. "Well then...my boys will just have to have one of these wenches, I suppose." he gestured to the children and teenage girls around them. None of them seemed to twitch at the announcement and Emma feared the reason why. How long had these children been subjected to...to...

Catching her horror and disgust, Jeck laughed. "You'll get yours soon girl, if you're that jealous."

"Jeck," the captain warned.

The man was clearly not happy with the captain. "Don't you 'Jeck' me, captain. I didn't earn that title for nothing."

So 'Jeck' is a title, she realized, absolutely surprised and wondering what this man could have done that was obviously so special and if she fit into it...or would. "If I wanted the girl I would take her from you now, have my fun and then give her to the king. It's been no different from his other girls and you know it."

The captain was persistent though. "She's special."

"How so?"

"She's the princess of Figaro," he answered, daring the Jeck to say another word against his rule. All at once the girls lifted their heads, surprised. Some of the closer soldiers even paused, obviously disturbed for reasons Emma could not understand.

The Jeck coughed, backing down. "I see," he mumbled through another cough. "He's finally got him back, eh?" he asked the captain, surprised. "Alright, carry on. As for you worthless sluts, get back to work!" he whipped several girls to encourage the others to get back to their cleaning even as the captain continued onward with his own prisoner.

Emma wondered what the Jeck meant by "He's finally got him back, eh?". Clearly he was aware she was a girl, as he had said it earlier, so who was he referring to? Derell got what man back? Was it her father? It was the only thing that made sense. Derell had something against her father...but what?

Unfortunately she wasn't provided enough time to think about it, as they arrived in front of another double door. The smell of freshly cooked foods wafted through the cracks and made her very aware of her hunger. Her stomach growled angrily at her for not eating when her father had set aside food for her.

In through the doors she saw a beautiful table set professionally with delicate foods and a hearty center piece of a charcoal cooked hog. Golden and silver candles alongside several jugs of wine accented the foods wonderfully, invitingly. Her stomach growled again.

"The food isn't for you," a voice pointed out softly. The soldiers instantly let her go to bow, leaving her to be humiliated as she was lying face first against the stone floor, unable to lift herself up. She was able to lift her eyes, though, to see a man dressed in black regal clothing descend from a twisting staircase to their far left. "This won't be anything like your Figaro. People work to get what they want here. Will you?"

Emma recognized him from the field, the man that had hid her. It was Derell. Walking beside him were his two sons, dressed just as regally. Her eyes went to Luke and she could not breathe. She knew just by looking at him what was going to happen to her and the thought alone terrified her so thoroughly tears crippled her.

Luke noticed her last, having turns his eyes to the food, then the soldiers, then the captain and then her. When he saw her lying on the floor, tearfully looking at him, he smiled at her softly.

"Captain, you and your men are dismissed for now. Stand outside and await further orders." Derell moved down the stairs smoothly, coming to stand before Emma. "Oh wait," he called after them, never removing his eyes from her, aware that she was far more concerned with his son than him. It pissed him off. "Remove her chains." this caught her attention and he smiled smugly at her. "You didn't think I would let you just lie there, did you? No no no, that would just be shameful of me as a host, wouldn't it?" Her gaze only lasted a second or two before she let it crumble, too afraid.

The captain knelt down and unlocked the bolt, letting the girl quickly push herself up straight and rub painfully at her red wrists. "Is that all, my liege?"

Derell shook his head. "I don't believe so. Luke? Eric? What do you think?"

"I—I think that's all," Eric muttered like a fragile child, eyes wide. "Can...can we just eat now? Please?"

"Stop being such a coward," his father snapped. "You are a man—act like it. I shall show you what a real man and what a real king does." he pointed at Emma. "Captain, remove her clothes."

The second the words left his mouth the princess was ready to fight him off. Unwillingly to look weak in front of his king, most likely to avoid punishment, the captain struck Emma across the face to knock her off balance and to keep her tiny hands from trying to gouge out his eyes. He proceeded hastily and proficiently at tearing her clothes off her cold body until she laid nude at their feet. She was subjected to humiliation once again for Derell started laughing and making comments on her bruises and old scars, and how childlike her body was. Hot tears came and went, unchecked, as the captain backed away with her clothes, his dark brown eyes apologetic yet firm.

He wasn't going to help.

She understood why the captain would not help, but in a way she hated him. Instead, though, she turned her anger at the king, not bothering to mask the rage lust in her eyes. He laughed at her. "You think you scare me, child? I've faced horrors you could never understand. Monsters that make those things your parents faced look like little ants. I've come out unscathed...thanks to my understandings, my knowledge. Your parents came through with brute force and magical prowess. They were the past, I am the future!"

Something tingled in the back of her mind and filled her head with such heat she thought she was going to burst into flames. Before she even knew it she was on her feet, meaning to rip the king of Alúzar's eyes straight out of his head. The man was so surprised he never even moved, staring wide eyed at her advance like some frightened deer. The only reason she didn't succeed was because the captain intercepted swiftly, knocking the girl to her side and then quickly kneeling to restrain her.

Derell recomposed himself quickly, adjusting his collar with a roll of his eyes, as if he was never terrified by a little girl. "I see you are quicker than you appear." Her eyes were beginning to blacken and he noticed with absolute glee. "Oh, I see how this works...so your brother was right. When you get worked up, you begin to rescind into your roots. It doesn't require physical confrontation, it seems. But what fun would this be if I took the easier route?" he asked. "No...upsetting you emotionally is too easy. We shall go another route."

He turned his back to her. "I shall give you a chance girl, and I mean it...bow at my feet, renounce your citizenship to Figaro and pledge yourself to my every desire. Only then will you be granted peace and freedom in my domain. If you do not, I shall forcefully change your mind. Pick wisely." by this time he was facing her again, examining her eyes. "Are you afraid, girl?"

The defiance that crossed her face that second reminded all too much of the man he had come to meet all those years ago, the very man that betrayed his trust and threw him and his aside. The defiance, the anger and passion, in her eyes was just like his...and it wrought a loathing in Derell so fierce he was sure he could never vent it.

Then her answer came as clear as anything could, the blackness still in the corner of her eyes. "Not of you."

And he knew then he could at least try to vent himself through this girl. He narrowed his eyes down at her. "Let's see how well your father prepared you for the evils of this world." he nudged his head and stepped back as Luke neared. "We shall see just how long you can hide behind lies." he chuckled. "Your brother offered us little to no fun. Cracking him was easy. Will you prove otherwise?"

---

Two days. That was all that had passed since he woke in Figaro and he wasted no time telling his mother of his childish thoughts, and then to his father. He let them down. He let Emma down. He could see it in their eyes. He was nothing they hoped for. But he was going to change that, he was going to become a better person, a better brother and son...a better king.

So as he laid in his bed, recovering from his torture, he began to think of ways to make the world just a little better the instant he became king. He thought of a many things but only a select few could be done instantly and would have the largest impact, or so he thought.

He needed to get rid of the Council.

They were causing enormous amounts of trouble and were the deadliest threat Figaro had, for an enemy in ally skin standing behind you was worse than an enemy standing in front of you.

He wasn't sure if his father or mother would approve of a bold decision as the one he was going to make, or rather, one so "poorly thought out", as his father would say. But he has been thinking hard on it. There was no way the public would react in such an outcry at the dissemble of the Council and if they did...he would try and show them how the Council was a bad idea. Honesty with the people was his only choice, knowing the lies his parents told, that of the Council and the Empire was the cause of such unrest. The people deserved to know and know everything.

Cambyses knew the Coronation was in four days and he had only four days to talk his father and mother into the dismantling of the Council in the way he saw fit. So he asked Cadence—when she appeared to greet him for the day—if she could fetch his parents. She of course tried to convince him to postpone so that he could rest up some more but he was too persistent. It only took a few minutes, but she agreed.

When she returned with his father, mother and uncle she tried to leave them alone when he stopped her. "You can stay Cadence. You are as much apart of this family as anyone."

Candence, unsure, looked at the peering eyes of the Figaro family. They were smiling. "He's right," Edgar said. "I see you as my daughter Cadence."

"You know how much I care for you, dear," Terra put in brightly.

Sabin tossed his massive shoulders. "If it wasn't obvious before..."

"Then it is settled," Cambyses said, ushering her to see down. "Mother, father...uncle. There is something very important that I need to discuss with you. It concerns the Council."

"Actually, that was also something that I needed to—" Edgar was quickly cut off.

"Father, listen...I am dismantling them. As soon as I am king. I am not sitting around waiting for another excuse to do it."

Edgar laughed. "That's what I was going to tell you to do, son."

"Locke and I, as well as your mother, have already begun planting the seeds of it." Sabin added. "Before you arrived...after we sent Emma off...we decided it was time for them to go. It was your brother's initiative."

"Good, then we're at an agreement," Cambyses shifted so that he was sitting up straight. "Next...I want to hold an announcement to the civilians."

"An announcement?" Edgar asked, a bit suspiciously.

"Yes. I want to inform them of the changes in the world. It is time they know magic has resurfaced and that it isn't the problem—people are. I want them to know everything father...in that way can they finally begin to understand and accept it."

"You want to tell the whole magic is back?" Edgar needed to clarify. "But son, that will be the fuel to another Imperial upbringing. If anyone knew magic existed, it could fall into the wrong hands."

Cambyses looked away from his father with a shake of his head. "And did the world not knowing stop Derell?"

"I...no, but—"

"But nothing," he replied roughly. "The world will know. They need to know. Magic is apart of this world father, it isn't something we can restrain, something we can horde to ourselves! If we truly want to move forward into the future and know that our people will continue to support us, we need this knowledge available even to the common. Keeping magic to one power is what created this mess, not the magic itself. People who refused to share, to keep all the power and to use it against the weak."

"I understand what you mean Cambyses, but you do not understand that the world isn't ready for it. It hasn't been that long since the Empire..."

"No father...you think the world isn't ready. I'm telling you they are ready."

As the two stared each other off, completely calm, Terra and Cadence became uncomfortable. Suddenly Edgar broke his gaze and leaned back with a smile. "Alright then. Let's tell them."

Cambyses smiled. "Really, father?"

"Really."

---

Emma had woken up to find that she was left alone in her cold and slanted cell, beaten so thoroughly that breathing hurt every muscle in her.

They had dragged her into a large and empty room earlier, still naked, and locked her to a center piece in the floor so that her hands were cuffed together to the floor. It allowed her back to be exposed to their whips, lashing hot licks that caused so much pain she passed out several times from it alone.

When she woke after that, thanks to a bucket of freezing water being splashed against her body, several guards were ordered to hit her, over and over again. It only lasted a few minutes, her cries and pleads unanswered, until Derell ordered them to stop.

"Do you have anything to say, girl?" he was standing above her, looking down at her bruised face. "Well?"

Too hurt to mutter her defiant reply, she weakly closed her eyes and recoiled as the next wave of punishments came. They went back to the whips at Derell's command. Her back felt like it was on fire. The pain was too immense. Soon she couldn't even beg them to stop, to beg them to let her just die, for the pain took over and all she could do was scream hoarsely. They stopped at the suggestion of some man in a long white coat in the background but Derell didn't want it to stop there. He ordered his men to beat her again. It wasn't long until they stopped punching and kicking her.

They holstered her up against a table, tied her limbs to iron clips and then rolled the table in a downward angle. "Have you anything to say now?" Derell asked from his spot to her left. He sounded agitated. Everything was beginning to blur and the blood from her nose wasn't able to escape, building up and slowly choking the breath out of her. At her refusal to answer, Derell snapped his fingers.

Two men walked forward, she could hear them but she couldn't see them, only Derell and Luke—both looking absolutely undisturbed by what they were doing. "I was being more than fair girl...I gave you your chances and you throw it back into my face. I shall show you respect."

Something vaguely transparent and grayish came into view. She couldn't make it out, not through her current state of vision. That is, until it was pressed over her mouth—leaving her eyes to bare witness to what it was she was going to endure. She realized the grayish thing was a cloth. They were holding it down tightly over her mouth and nose. Breathing was getting slightly labored. They meant to suffocate her? Her eyes widened and sought out the blur she knew was the king. The tears and swelling...she couldn't make out a thing. Desperately, she mumbled into the cloth, knowing by the lack of response they either didn't care to find out what she had said or that they had heard and wished to continue regardless.

A third soldier appeared carrying a bucket. "You know what your brother told me?" Derell came closer to lay a hand on her forehead before he clicked his tongue, feigning concern over her injuries. She could make out his face from the distance now and made eye contact with him, aware she couldn't stop the tears. "He told me you aren't very fond of drowning...I wonder why?" and then he backed out of her view and another person stepped into it.

Camb wouldn't...not ever.

She didn't have to ask what was in the wooden pitcher, she knew by the sloshing sound; water. She just couldn't understand how he planned to drown her in this angle and with such a small amount of water. It wasn't until the table lowered again and the bucket started pouring it contents over her face slowly that she understood.

Panic gripped her and she thrashed about, coughing against the cloth and the onslaught of water trying desperately to rush down into her lungs. It couldn't escape, it could build in her lungs thoroughly...it was worse than drowning. Memories she thought she forgot, fears she thought she outgrew, came rushing back to her. Times she wished stayed in Thamasa...

The vague sound of Derell laughing rang through her ears but soon all she could hear was the muffled sound of water splashing against the floor and her face until her vision darkened and the pain started to slip through the cracks, attempting to carry her away. Her nostrils and mouth began to burn and away she went...so close to sleep...so close to rest...when suddenly the water stopped, the cloth was removed and her body forced itself to push the water out through a fit of painful coughs and to take the next few breathes as labored as possible.

It felt like an eternity until she caught her breath and as soon as she did, Derell snapped his fingers again. The cloth was quickly replaced and the water began to pour again. She pulled at her restrains, thrashing and tossing herself as hard as she could until the restrains began to dig into her skin and her muscles tired.

By the time this round stopped she was so tired she wished the pain would just take her already.

Derell was back in view, waiting for her to finally catch her breath. "Well girl, what about now?"

And then her eyes closed and woke up in her cell later.

She was too weak to try and inspect her body for whatever else they had done to her when she blacked out so she laid her head back into the slanted crack between the floor and wall, and went back to sleep, shivering and hungry.

The next time Emma woke, she was lying flat and staring up at a beautifully decorated stone ceiling. Twisting fabrics twirled around in elegant knots and ties in four pillars around her and that made her realize she was lying on a bed. The wet dabbing at her forehead had awoken her. Curiously, she rolled her head ever so gently to her right and saw the blurry face of a woman. It looked so familiar...it looked so much like her mother.

She licked her dry lips. "Mo..mother..."

The woman startled and stopped dabbing. "Oh dear, no...no, I'm not your mother."

No, she was sure her mother was there, looking at her and trying her hardest to help her. Yet the woman sitting by the bed now looked nothing like her mother. She had flowing dark hair, chocolate colored, and warm emerald eyes and freckles over a tannish skin. She had a roundish nose and a wide, welcoming smile complete with deep dimples and rosy cheeks. She was absolutely beautiful, probably no older than her late thirties. Emma had no idea why, but the woman reminded her of warm honey...

Sensing the girl's sudden confusion, the woman smiled through a snort of laughter. "Oh silly me, I forgot myself in the excitement of meeting you." she sat the cloth aside and laid a hand on the princess', in an attempt to shake it. "My name is Sherra and I'm here to help you." her voice had a deep drawl to it...it was so enchanting to hear. Emma had never heard such an accent before. The closest to it was Locke, but this woman...did all the natives of this land speak like this? Emma carefully slid her hand away, looking away from the woman's warm eyes.

"Oh, um..." Sherra removed her hand from the girl's vicinity. "I just wanted to make your acquaintance, little lady. It is so nice to finally meet you."

Emma looked back at the woman. "...'finally'?" she found her throat still painfully raw.

"Well, you see here...I always wanted to meet a royal of the Figaro family, is all, and your friend? What's his name? Oh well he flies the ships? Well, one day a few years back he showed me this wonderful picture of a cute little girl with the prettiest green hair. He told me it was the princess of Figaro and I thought 'Gee, would be nice to meet her and her family' 'cause I ain't...because I've never met royalty before."

Setzer? Emma thought weakly. Why would he...why would he give her pictures of me?

Suddenly, the woman jumped slightly. "Say, you must be hungry, or probably thirsty...would you like to eat something? I brought, um, let's see..." Sherra leaned down toward the floor and started digging through something. "I brought along some jellies...oh, and some soft fruits. I wasn't sure if, well, if you could eat anything harder at the moment."

Now that she thought about it, she hadn't eaten in a while...but would she get in trouble if Derell or Luke found out? She didn't want to face another beating, definitely not another mock drowning. She shivered in fear, having never heard of such torture tactics before.

"Oh, you're cold? Here, here!" Sherra quickly pulled the quilt blanket up and around the princess, trying her best not to agitate wounds or the like. "You know, when my husband said he wanted to start a kingdom I thought he truly went mad. I told him it was impossible, there was no land to be had...I'm so sorry for everything, Emma, I truly am."

"Your..." Emma tried to quench her thirst or at least her dry lips to speak. "...your husband?"

Sherra hesitated at the tone, lowering her gaze. "Yes...Derell is my husband. Luke and Eric are my sons. It wasn't...it wasn't exactly my idea."

"I...I understand." She whispered.

"The good thing about being the mother of Luke is that I can keep him from hurting you too much, and be here to help if something goes wrong. We don't have to worry about Eric, he's a good boy."

"Good?" Emma questioned her, angrily.

"Oh, right, well...maybe one day you will understand what I mean? Besides, you cannot fault me for loving my children Emma. A mother cannot just turn off a switch for her feelings. I don't agree with what they have done, I don't argue it was evil, that it was wrong...but I gave birth to them and they weren't always like this. Derell took my boys' innocence from them, twisted them...but let's talk about this another time. For now you need to eat up and rest because—"

"Sherra!" a loud voice boomed as the door crashed open, slamming straight into the walls. The instant Emma and Derell saw each other, they both reacted. Emma stopped breathing and just stared at him with a wide, horrified expression while he laughed, clearing the distance between him and the two women. "Still tending to this thing? What is wrong with you woman?"

Sherra glared, not bothering to mask her hatred. "You ordered me to tend to the girl, remember? Besides, I couldn't just leave her here in pain. Maybe if you just taught our son to—"

"Don't you say a word about our sons," Derell snapped, pointing a finger at her threateningly. "You aren't allowed to talk about them, not after you killed our last son."

Sherra wasted no time slapping him. It stunned him. "How dare you say that! Where were you Derell? Where were you when I was dying on that bed trying to birth him?! Where were you? Out raping some poor girl from the local villages I bet. You never cared and you never will."

Derell's nostrils flared and his cheeks turned pink with embarrassment and anger. "How dare you lay a finger on me. I am your husband, your king!"

"How dare you accuse me of murdering our son!" she added hotly. "In all these years you have never said anything so horrid to me. What is wrong with you?"

He wasn't going to do anything about it until he saw Emma watching...he didn't like it one bit. He raised a hand toward Emma. "What are you gaping at, you worthless slut?" she immediately looked away. "Stupid whore. Next time you stare at me like that I will have your eyes ripped out of your pretty little face. Do you understand me?"

"Derell!"

"Shut up Sherra," he pointed at her again. "Do you understand?" he asked Emma again, rougher.

"Y-Y-Yes."

"What?"

"Y-Yes De-Derell."

He snarled at her before he grabbed Sherra's arm. "Come, we have a family meeting in the throne room."

"Wait, I haven't given Emma her—"

"Forget about that bitch for a minute and follow me, damn it!" and then he dragged her away, all the while the woman made an apologetic expression to the princess. Emma couldn't understand...why did this woman think she owed the princess of Figaro any kindness?

---

Cambyses still couldn't get out of his bed from the pain and injuries, but he was allowed to exercise his body from his spot. He carefully rotated his arms, slowly, and proceeded to do lift his legs as high as they could go before he tried to hold them in place for the longest he could hold. For the two days he was exercising he could feel the strain it was leaving yet he could tell it was improving him. Sooner or later he would at least be able to get out of his bed...

His injuries were almost always on the backburner whenever Cadence was around. She always managed to get him to forget what had happened to him until something specific was mentioned. Seeing her made everything he did, everything he endured, easier to deal with.

Today it was one of those unfortunate days though. They were talking about getting married, though they were joking with each other mostly about the things that would come from that marriage, when Cadence said Emma would finally be her sister and Cambyses froze. Cadence looked ashamed for what she had said.

"I'm...I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to bring her up. I just..."

"No, no don't apologize," Cambyses finally muttered as he relaxed into his pillows. "I can't keep avoiding her. It will not help, and it won't help my mother and father, not even Ben."

"I'm sure you and your father will get her back Cambyses. I do miss her...she was—is—such a sweet girl."

"Even if I got her back, I wouldn't be able to forgive myself for what I did. I betrayed my sister..."

"What?" Cadence asked softly. "How could you think that? She loves you Camb, she would never think you betrayed her." And by now the prince was crying. Startled, Cadence leaned over to take him into a hug. "Oh Camb, she doesn't hate you, she loves you. You have to believe that."

"You don't understand," he sniffed, insistent. "I gave Derell everything I knew about her...all so I could protect you."

Cadence was at a loss for words. For her? It sounded like he regretted it, and it made her feel terrible for hating it. Emma deserved so much more, and yet here she sat happy that Cambyses had picked her over his sister. It was so selfish that she wanted to just disappear. She finally found her voice to ask, "Do you...regret it?"

"The worst part is...is that I don't," he admitted, sniffing. "What does that make me, Cadence? What does it make me? I'm a monster..."

Cadence leaned over to kiss his lips gently and then whispered against his mouth. "You aren't a monster Cambyses, you never will be. You did what you thought was best. Don't let anyone fill your heads with such thoughts again."

Cambyses rubbed the tears away with a small laugh. "Why do you always stick with me Cadence, even through things like this?"

She grinned at him, teasingly. "If I didn't, who would?"

---

Sherra had returned to the princess sometime in the night, quickly going back to her chair to dab the girl's forehead, tuck her in her just watch her through the night. She knew that the poor girl was going to be within her husbands' grasp for a few years now, knowing that sooner or later she would be here. Ever since Derell saw the pictures and found out the girl was Edgar's daughter he turned his sights toward her and only her.

Yet, despite knowing this long, there was nothing she could do. She thought she was prepared to deal with it, to see a child abused in front of her almost daily, but seeing the girl's face right now...it hurt more than she thought possible. At least for the other girls Derell had he...used them and that was that. He didn't bring them home and beat them in front of his wife, using his children as a form of punishment as well.

Just as she retired from the water bucket to sit peacefully and wait, the girl started to stir in a fit. Her breathing spiked and her hands gripped aimlessly at the sheets while sweat beaded across her forehead.

"Sssh Emma," the woman whispered tenderly, leaning over to stroke the girl's hair. "All will be alright." the girl's gently whines continued, so Sherra smiled. "How about a song then? My mother passed it along to me..."

"Golden slumbers kiss your eyes, Smiles await you when you rise. Sleep, Pretty baby, Do not cry, And I will sing a lullaby." her soft voice carried through and the princess began to still. Sherra continued to stroke the girl's hair.

"Cares you know not, Therefore sleep, While over you a watch I'll keep. Sleep, Pretty darling, Do not cry, And I will sing a lullaby..." finally the girl's fits were over and her breathing returned to a peaceful state. "Goodnight Emma." and then Sherra leaned over to kiss her forehead and then tucked her before she left the room.

The routine of caring for the princess continued on for several days until the visible signs of her abuse began to fade and it no longer hurt her to stand. Sherra took to getting the girl into therapy. Each day, three times a day, she would be lifted out of bed and helped to walk across the room from the bed to the wall, and then back to the bed. Her arms were easier to deal with, as they took less of the force than her torso and legs and soon by the end of the second week, the girl was up and walking with just a slight limp.

Her face was still covered in bruises and her lip was still obviously healing from the splits in them, but the recovery was going smoothly and luckily for her, Derell and Luke didn't wish to scar up her 'pretty little face' too much.

It was today that Sherra finally got the girl to talk as well. Besides the small 'yes", "no", and other obscure mutterings the girl kept her thoughts to herself, often fearing to even speak a word, at all, in front of any person unless told to. Sherra had been worried the girl was too far gone already.

"Say," Sherra said aloud, looking over from her chair by the window, her fingers no longer working on her sewing. "wouldn't you like to go outside? It is a sunny and breezy day today...maybe you will enjoy it?"

Emma was sitting on the floor against the edge of the bed, facing toward her. She didn't like to lie on the bed during the day because Derell had threatened to beat her if he caught her "being lazy" for too long. The purple-blue eyes lifted upward to look at her and then she shook her head gently.

"Oh, why not? I would go with you, so it isn't like you will get in trouble. You have been obedient to Derell, so he won't mind you accompanying me." she waited a minute, before she pressed with a sweet, "Please?"

Uncomfortably, she nodded. "Okay..."

And that was all it took for Sherra to smile happily and practically run over to help her up. "Now I'm not sure what Figaro looks like and all its grandeur, but I'm sure you will like some of the views here."

Outside the castle's inner walls laid a ocean of flowers, trees and other plant life in all sorts of colors and formations, even shapes. Statues of odd creatures, twenty feet higher, stood scattered through the gardens. The walkways were crafted out of various rocks and slabs and looked hundreds of years old—something Emma knew was not possible for a country so young.

The guards on the ground were few, with the ones walking around dressed in light armor and carrying odd looking contraptions in their hands. To make up for this lack of security on the ground, several small towers formed a inner circle around the guard and looked to be armed with at least ten archers on each balcony. Large catapults, slings and other military weaponry sat secured to the edges or openings in the towers, armed and ready to be fired at a moment's notice.

A bending twist of water, a man-made river, swirled through the garden, often crossing the walkway. Tiny bridges were crafted over these mingled pieces of old oak wood stained deep ebony. Tiny fish the color of rainbows swam beneath and shined brightly under the sun's rays.

It was all very beautiful.

Emma had never seen anything like it...and it shamed her to realize that not even Figaro's Grand Garden compared to this.

Sherra was patient with her. Quiet as a mouse, gentle pressure on the girl's arm—guiding not dragging—and carried a sweet and warm smile. Emma wasn't sure if she could even think about trusting this woman, wife of Derell and mother of the her rapists. Was it allowed? Could Sherra be different than her family? Were her intentions earnest?

"This looks like a good spot as any," she suddenly announced as they stood before a shady grass patch. A looming, giant willow hung its branches almost straight to the ground, creating both a shield from the above and all around. The river they saw before was twisting around their little spot and disappeared several feet behind them into thickets groomed into the likeliness of animals. "Just sit here for a moment...alright then!" she whistled a short tune and within moments three soldiers appeared. "Gentlemen, would you mind fetching me my usual basket?" they scattered a second later, leaving the woman and girl alone. As soon as she was sure they were alone, Sherra sat beside the princess with a relaxed sigh.

"Well, what do you think of the garden?"

"Its..." she faltered, unsure again whether or not to answer and even trust this woman. She looked around, fearfully, hoping she couldn't spot a soldier lurking by to catch her in a trap. She couldn't spot a single face. "Its...nice."

The woman laughed. "Just 'nice'?"

"Beautiful." she correctly herself quickly, fearfully.

"Is it really? Please don't fear me child, I'm not going to hurt you." her warm eyes portrayed a depth of pain and sadness that Emma felt was all too familiar. "I promise I will never harm you."

"It's really pretty," Emma answered finally, still searching the garden carefully. If she was in for a beating she wanted to be ready for it. It hurt worse when she couldn't prepare herself...that drowning had taken so much out of her, she felt it. She wanted to be prepared next time.

"How does it compare to home?" Sherra pressed, almost shyly. "Do we barely even scrap by your country's standard of beauty?"

"It's...it's better." she admitted, finally tearing her eyes away from her surroundings to look upon the soft face of her companion. "Are—are you...are you sure we—we can be out here?"

"I am sure," she answered through a bright smile and then gestured ahead of her. "I didn't make this garden, you know, and neither did Derell or his father, or his father's father."

"Who...who did?"

Sherra shrugged. "Derell found this place and this garden. The whole of the country, except the little towns by the shores, were already here...just empty."

Emma knew it. Knew what many others did when they heard of this sudden country emerging out of nowhere. It wasn't on any map, no person ever spoke of it...how had her parents missed it through their travels? How had anyone, especially Setzer or the Empire? Did it come to be through the aftermath of Kefka's Judgement? No...that couldn't be right either. How could such a large piece of land go unnoticed for nearly twenty-five years? It didn't make any sense.

"W-what do you mean...'found'?"

Suddenly the woman went flush and hesitated, but whatever it was that had frightened her vanished just as quickly and she began explaining what she meant. "Many years ago, when I was just a little younger than you, I was married off to a man well into his sixties. It was Derell's father."

"But—"

"How did I marry Derell?" she asked softly. The girl nodded. "It came to be when Derell's father, Ottomos, died before our wedding. In order to keep the point of the arrangement, both families agreed to marry me off to his second eldest—Derell. I was married away the next night and taken aboard one of his vessels and off into the sea."

"Wha-what about the country?"

"Well...five years into our aimless voyage Derell got so angry with me—I had given him his first son, and he wanted only one at the time but nature cannot be argued with—and to punish me, wanted to leave me for three months alone in some uninhabited islands. We sailed south, looking for a popular place for pirates to dump their unwanted human cargo when a storm appeared out of no where...like magic."

Magic? But Emma knew that was impossible. Magic was dead.

"Our ship was hit with winds I have never experienced before, let alone heard about it. It nearly tossed us clean over many times. Thunder ripped out of the sky in clusters...never was there a moment were it was not as bright as day. Until we happened upon the eye of the storm. We nearly lost our entire crew and when we pulled further toward the eye of the storm, this land came into view. Derell was ecstatic. The storm still raged on around us but he forced us to head toward the land. We we arrived, as if waiting for us, there was a column still out of the sand with a floating orb."

Despite herself and her situation, Emma was entranced. "What happened?" her eyes were wide with innocent wonder and Sherra smiled at her.

"Derell removed the orb and in a roar the storm around us vanished and we could see clear ocean all around. We traveled further in land and it took five months to reach this castle. It was in an overgrown state, but in impeccable condition. No one could find another soul or an explanation, so Derell decided to take the land and rule as the king. In a few years he had hired or kidnapped thousands of families and forced them to live here to build up the population. It wasn't enough though...he began digging though the underground tunnels and found empty cells, outdated but masterfully built. Once he left the tunnels, odd things began to happen."

"What?" the girl encouraged through a ghostly whisper.

"People started popping up out of no where, people the crew never kidnapped or even saw before...people who claimed to have lived on the land all their lives—some of those lives were older than Derell. He was beginning to see his potential to rule a kingdom that could rival Figaro and saw the sudden and continuous increase of people as a way to build his army. And...well...the rest is history."

Sherra could see the curiosity burn in the girl's eyes and it reminded her of when her boys were small children, not yet tainted by their father, but bouncy little boys...maybe she could make Emma's life just a little more comfortable here, give her a chance at a somewhat decent life—even if it was still as a slave. "That's it? No questions?" the woman questioned jokingly.

"Was it magic?"

"Was what magic?"

"The storm." she said simply.

Sherra thought back on what she said and laughed. "If it was, I wouldn't know. Maybe it was crafted by the gods or by some mad genius...I hear they exist plentiful in Figaro?"

"Do the people like him?" she asked suddenly and Sherra hesitated once again, unsure if she could answer that or what the girl was digging for. Quickly, she searched the garden. There were no nearby men.

"Emma, I can't answer that—"

"Why?"

"Because it could get back to him and upset him."

"Why does it matter?" she asked firmly. "He's going to hit me anyway."

Sherra sat there staring at the girl's odd expression for a moment. "He might not stop with hitting you Emma..." she finally let out. Sherra watched as the expression shift into recognition and then slide back into the terrified expression the girl usually wore. "I'm sorry, I—I should have been nicer with telling you that."

If Emma was going to say something, she was cut off by the sudden return of the soldiers. She went quiet and looked down, to avoid their eyes, as Derell had taught her. It was improper for a woman, let alone a slave, to look a man in the eyes—even for a second. The only ones capable were medical staff and royalty.

One of the soldiers put the basket down at the feet of his queen, bowed his head and took several steps back to await dismissal or a new order. The queen looked through the basket, smiled and thanked the men for the help. "It is our pleasure, your majesty. Is there anything else you require?"

Sherra thought for a moment. "Not from me...what about you Emma?" The princess' heart started to beat rapidly. What was Sherra thinking? What was she trying to do? "Well Emma?"

She kept her eyes down, sweat beginning to bead on her forehead. She realized Sherra wanted her to look at the men. But if Derell found out... "N-no."

With a defeated sigh, the queen dismissed them and went through digging in the basket. "Well then, let's just have a nice lunch and enjoy the day. What do you say?"

When they returned to the castle a few hours later, it was quiet and Derell, or Luke, could not be seen or heard from the corridor where the princess was kept. Emma didn't like it. Usually she could hear the bugles of Derell's personal call, which was meant to bring the men forward into personal training—which meant letting the king win every time—or Luke's particular way to walk by her room. She had mastered recognizing it. Like he purposely clicked his feet against the floor just for her, just so she would know he was near and fear if it was time for a visit.

It was driving her insane.

But today...no sound. And in a way, it made her far more scared. What was he, or Derell, planning something? Did they find out she went outside with Sherra and want her punished?

Sherra didn't seem to noticed the silence or if she did, she did a better job at ignoring it. Instead she busied herself with reorganizing the girl's 'room', and to refluffing the pillows by the window sill. As she was finishing up with her cleaning, Derell appeared at the doorway, silently. "There you are." he said, not necessarily angry or pleased. "I have been all over the castle for you. Where were you?"

Sherra turned to him with a few pieces of clothing over her arms, acutely aware of the fact that Emma was panicking quietly in the corner. If Derell saw, he would be tempted just to start something over that fact, not necessarily about her leaving the castle without consent. "I took Emma out into the gardens with me today, Derell. We were there for a few hours."

"Did I give consent?" he asked softly.

"You said I could bring her along last night, don't you remember? I asked if it would be fine since she's become more obedient lately...you said yes."

The king's eyes narrowed. He knew he wouldn't have remembered the discussion even if it occurred and couldn't figure out if his wife was playing him. He couldn't, or rather wouldn't, punish her or the girl on it. He knew it. Whatever...if his wife wanted to play this game, he could play it too.

"That is right, I did, didn't I? I have been meaning to test that 'obedience' a little further." he turned his eyes to the girl and smiled at the fearful expression on her face. "Are you obedient, girl?"

"Y-yes."

"I couldn't hear you!"

"Y-yes!" she cried out loudly, trying her hardest to not look him in the eyes.

"Look at me when I speak to you!" Confused, as he beat her for looking at him before, she looked to Sherra, hoping the woman would help her out of the situation. The queen was equally confused. "I said look at me!" hesitantly, the girl lifted her eyes to him and saw a grin on his face. "I suppose your obedience isn't that bad. It could use some work."

"Please...please don't hurt me." she bowed her head toward the floor so that her forehead touched the floor. "Please...please..."

Derell started laughing hysterically. "You expect me to believe your charades? Fine...prove to me you are truly obedient; renounce Figaro and swear yourself to me." maybe today was the day she finally broke, maybe he would finally get her to say it. If not, well, he would be sure to try and force it out of her again.

To his complete shock and horror, there was no hesitation to her next reply. "No." yet her head remained flat against the floor, obedient and afraid. Sherra covered her mouth instantly, afraid for how that reply was going to turn things.

Derell's nostrils flared. "I'm being reasonable here girl. You can't honestly be this stubborn and stupid."

"No." she said again, firmer.

Sherra couldn't believe it. This child managed to outlast any torture victim Derell took, even over the girl's own brother...a man who was supposed to be king. What drove this girl? Was it as Derell said, was she just too stubborn or was there something else there? The girl had to realize that she could say the words and know they meant nothing, that she could lie—why did she go through this? So far every answer was the same, "no" or no answer at all.

Oh how she wished the girl would just get some common sense...

The veins on his neck bulged. "So be it." he never removed his eyes though as he gave his wife his commands. "On your way out, fetch the only good son we have and head back to your room. I'll send Johl over after."

Horrified Sherra walked by between the two, slave and master, and tried her hardest to delay finding Luke. But there he was, as if he knew, sitting at the end of the corridor, speaking to two soldiers. He paused mid sentence instantly when he saw his mother. "What are you doing here, mother?"

"Your...your father summons you to—" she didn't feel right using her name, not to her son. "—to the girl's room."

A hint of a smile cracked his face before it vanished. "I see. You two are dismissed." and then without another word he walked by his mother and disappeared down the other end of the corridor. Slowly, reluctantly, she went to her room. To her misfortune, it was one room next to the princess' room and she could hear everything.

Derell never took her like his son, he took his pleasure in beating her and torturing her. When he was done beating her, when the girl's whimpers died down, she heard the door open and close, and then Luke's voice carried through in a soft tone. He was trying to sooth her.

"Don't cry..." he whispered to her, almost as if he cared. "Don't cry..."

She could hear the girl sobbing, hear the sound of Luke hitting her the next second and flinched at the sound. Sherra got up to pace the room, hand reaching for her stomach as the sounds continued. Luke had slammed the girl into something against the wall for her side of the wall shook and a picture frame fell. The princess' muffled whine was gentle but not enough for the queen to not hear it.

It went silent for a second until Luke's laughter broke through and another thump, though this time it didn't sound like she had hit the wall. "Emma...please...wake up. I didn't hit you that hard." paralyzed into fear, the queen stopped mid-step and strained her hearing, hoping to hear the girl's soft response or her moving. At first there was nothing except Luke telling her to wake until he chuckled. "Ah, good...yes, that's it, wake up."

Distracting her from what was going on in the next room, someone knocked on her door. Wishing to keep the distraction going, she hurried to the door and found Johl, a doctor Derell 'hired' for their own personal use several months ago, when...

She greeted him with a weak smile. "Oh, Johl, how do you do today?"

"I'm doing fine," he answered very calmly before gesturing to the bed. "Please, sit." within seconds she was seated and he was looking her over, occasionally making a clicking sound. "Hmm...all seems to be well. How have you been feeling lately?"

"I'm—" something shattered in the next room. "—fine, really."

Johl took her hand to feel her heart beat. "Any sharp pains or trouble?"

"No," she replied softly, looking toward her wall, worried that it was silent. Johl tenderly laid a hand on her stomach.

"Good, good. Have you been eating healthy, exercising and keeping track of your stress? I know you must still be hurt over the loss of your son, but soon you will have another life to take care of and you cannot take any risk. Assuming Derell is trying to...to..."

"He is, and I know," she replied dryly as they heard Emma cry out a plea for Luke to stop. Johl looked just as disturbed. "I have been eating exactly as you said, exercising as well. I can't do much about the stress...but I feel better when I'm around Emma." something tingled in the back of her mind. She wanted this to be her last child, at least with Derell. If she could convince Johl to give her...no, she couldn't, not for herself. She had to think of Emma and think of the future she knew Derell would make of her.

"Ah, yes, I feel terrible about it too." he muttered, stepping away from her and putting his hands in his coat's pockets. "My brother lived back on Thamasa a few years back...he said he 'cared for the princess of Figaro' a few times in his letters. Spoke highly of her, though he often said she was the strangest child he had ever met."

Sherra laughed, her mood slightly lifting. "Well that is certainly true...such an odd girl, but she is a sweet heart. I just wish—" Luke screamed something they couldn't make out and then heard Emma begging again. "—I just wish I could help her. I don't want her to end up like me, stuck with Derell for the rest of her life..."

Johl smiled at her. "About that," he dug through his pocket and handed her a bottle. "This should help. Derell will have you tend to the girl—he will refuse me—because he trusts in your absolute obedience. You are the only one to help her. If you give her one of these every month she will never experience what you have."

Sherra knew exactly what the bottle was full of. She got up to hug Johl. "Thank you Johl."

He hugged her back. "My pleasure Sherra."

[-]

Johl was right; Derell needed her to tend to Emma. The next morning she had been woken from her fitful sleep by her own son. Luke's expression looked absolutely concerned and it made Sherra feel horrible. How wrong was it to doubt that her own child had any form of conscious? Was it reasonable given her situation, with what he had done already? She had to admit the young man hadn't been so bad a few years ago, with his indecency kept to sexual lust, not physical. It was like Emma had awoken something dormant in him...

Yet his beautiful green eyes, normally devoid of emotion, looked genuine in the words he was expressing to her.

Was her son truly this mad?

"Will you come?" he asked finally, desperately.

How could he expect her to say no? She nodded and asked him to give her a moment so that she may get dressed. The moment she was done and opened her door—prior to, she had noticed Derell never returned for bed—he was standing across from it, arms crossed and expression once again empty. "Luke...please, would you mind fetching your father for me?"

"He's in the throne room with Johl and Professor Corbot."

What? she thought, horrified by what it implied. It can't be...there's no way. "Alright then. Is Emma still in her room?" he nodded and watched as she turned to the door right of her own and opened it.

The room was in absolute shambles. A mirror to the far left had been completely shattered, in which she hoped the princess was not thrown into, and saw that the floor was littered with pillows, blankets and clothing. The bed was a mess but no one was in it. The window, still barred to prevent the girl from escaping or taking her own life, was open as the curtain had been pulled free of its hinges. The bathroom door was closed and so was the closest, so Sherra assumed the girl was not there.

It took only an extra minute to find her. Emma was lying on cold floor, to the left of the bed. Naked and freshly beaten.

Sherra lifted a hand to her mouth, horrified. Luke appeared by her shoulder, that worried expression from before plastered on his face again. "I can't get her to wake, mother...please...help her."

If she didn't know any better, it sounded like he was truly afraid of what he had done...

"I will, I will. Go into my room and get me my bag. It has an orange tag on it."

He nodded and vanished instantly. She fell to her knees besides the girl and checked her pulse; it was steady and strong. She laid a hand on the girl's forehead. "Emma...if you can hear me, please wake up. I need to know you are okay." there was no movement. "Emma, please...don't do this. Wake up."

With how swollen her eyes were, Sherra hardly caught the flicker. She smiled, relieved. "Thank the Gods." Luke returned with the bag. "Okay, now I need Johl."

"He's busy." the young man replied too quickly. "He's not allowed to leave under any circumstance."

That was all Sherra needed to know. Thankfully her devious son did not catch what it was she had been trying to get out of him. The plan involved two specialists...it wasn't good.

"Get me out the red salve." Luke found it immediately. "Now I need the yellow salve."

Sherra rubbed the red salve across the wounds and into them until it soaked into the skin and then applied generous amounts of the yellow salve, thicker substance, onto them.

"She isn't awake." he commented coolly.

"The salve was to help with the pain and ward off potential infection." she told him hotly, not afraid to scold him now. "You could have killed her Luke."

"But I didn't," he said. "She needed to learn mother. How can she ever conform to our family if she doesn't understand, if she disobeys? I'm trying to help her...she understands."

Sherra was certain. Something was definitely wrong with her son. He wasn't just evil, he was insane. It made loving him still less of personal battle. "Help me lift her to the bed." Luke gestured her aside and picked the girl up himself, effortlessly, and sat her atop the bed carefully.

"Will she wake now?"

"Luke...she's been through a lot. Don't you understand that? She needs her rest, you must leave her alone." His temper flared for a moment but he calmed himself swiftly and left the room in a silent boil. While the problem was gone, she carefully administrated the girl. It took several moments to tend to the rest of her body and then she sat by the bed and rocked in her chair, praying to the gods the girl would wake any moment, so that it meant the girl did not suffer permanent damage to her head.

When night began to fall and Sherra was certain the girl was not going to wake that night, she stored all her stuff away, set it aside neatly in a corner, tended to her one last time for the day, tucked her in and then kissed her forehead. "The Gods protect you Emma, and may you wake in the morning. Sweet dreams, dear."

In the morning Sherra returned to find the girl awake, groaning from the pain and heaving. "Hold on dear, hold on." she dug through her bag for a liquid potion, the color of bluegrass, and gently lifted the girl's head to pour the liquid down her throat. Emma fought against the liquid for a second but eventually swallowed the sweet potion and began to settle.

It wasn't until much later that the girl truly woke, mumbling incoherently about something, almost feverishly. The words were hardly tangible but after a moment, listening carefully, she heard 'chest' several times in a quick string. Was something wrong with her chest? Deciding not to risk it, she carefully lifted the blanket and inspected her chest carefully.

Emma recoiled at the touch, a loud and painful moan ripping fourth from her mouth and ended in an exhausted cry. That's when Sherra saw the purple bruise across her ribcage up to her left breast. It was swollen and hot, and was turning yellow and red. From her little time with Johl, she knew was it was; she had tietze syndrome, which luckily wasn't too serious. It generally healed easily, mostly at home care, but she didn't have any potions that would keep the swelling down or the pain away. She had run out.

But she couldn't leave the girl. She might hurt herself further, or she wouldn't be here to stop anyone from...taking the girl. Sherra carefully slide the loose shirt back down and took the princess' hand. "Emma...I need to leave, just for a few moments. I need to get the proper medications, I need to get Johl's help. Just don't move, if you can hear me, and the pain won't be so bad."

If Emma had heard she gave no indication so Sherra ran out of the room, hoping to beat anyone, especially her son, back to the girl's room. Luckily for her, she returned before anyone could get to the girl. Emma's condition seemed worse now; violent coughs had replaced the moans and now her body shivered weakly from the pain.

"Hold on," Sherra said, recovering the appropriate potions. "This will help you dear, I promise." as she poured the liquid down the girl's throat, someone opened the door and entered the room. For a moment the person was quiet, until he cleared his throat.

"Father wishes for your audience, mother."

She gritted her teeth. "Tell him I'll be there in a moment. I'm tending to Emma."

"He wants you right now," he said firmly. "Just tell me what to do and I'll tend to her."

Hesitantly, she looked over her shoulder at her eldest son. His face was once again empty of any expression but his eyes had a determined look to them. She couldn't tell what that determination was for and it worried her. "I will only be a few more minutes—"

"he wants you now. That means now, not later."

Sometimes he sounded just like his father. "Alright, come here and I'll show you what to do." Once he was by her side, she showed him how to hold her head and pour the liquid and help her drink. "You must be careful here. If she resists the drink, stop pouring."

"Anything else?" he asked dully.

"Once you give her the medication—and remember how much I said to give her—apply this," she lifted a green bottle. "to the afflicted area on her chest. It will help with the inflammation. Afterwards I want you to make sure she stays on her back and do not allow her to move her arms or shoulders too much, it will only irritate her chest further. Keep her hydrated as well. Do you understand?"

"Yes mother, I'm not an idiot."

"Okay..." she whispered, looking down at the girl's pained expression. "...I will be back for you Emma." and then she kissed the girl's forehead and was on her way out, passing Luke one last glance and seeing that he was, oddly, tenderly lifting her head to pour the liquid into her mouth.

---

When Cambyses could leave his room the first thing he did was head to the throne room. His up coming coronation was weighing heavily on his mind since his discussion with Cadence; the guilt was beginning to overwhelm him. He couldn't stop thinking about how the future could have been if his father had given the kingdom over to Benjamin or even Emma...the later dug into him deep. Emma showed promised, showed just how good of a queen she would have been. That night, so far back, when the Returners gathered for the annual dinner, she had come up with a plan greater than his own in mere minutes. It took him two weeks to think of his plan.

Emma would have been a better choice and he was acutely aware of that fact, neither angry or jealous. It was the truth. He did realize that she was far too young, and far too immature, to lead a nation and that even if their father had picked her as his heir, she wouldn't lead them until she was much older and—according to Figaro customs—married and with child.

But looking at the throne now, he could picture her sitting there, not him and feel complete comfort. What would the world look like with a queen, first ever, ruling and leading the world into the future? What would she do...?

"Camb?" a gentle voice called from behind him, confused. He turned around and saw his mother. She looked too tired to be up and walking about, especially this late in the night. "What are you doing here?"

"I could ask the same of you," he said through a soft laugh. "You shouldn't be up this late mother. Come, I'll walk you back to your room—"

"I'm fine," she intercepted quickly. "I was heading for...for Emma's room. I'll head to be very soon, I promise."

Cambyses couldn't bring himself to say anything, to tell her that she shouldn't stew over this, but how could he when he was just doing the same thing? He smiled. "I'll go with you." and then he took his mother's arm in his and started to guide her back through the corridors.

When they arrived at the top of the stairs and turned around the corner, they saw that the princess' door was open. Cambyses was furious. He thought a thief had decided to ravage his sister's room but when they entered the room, they saw Alex sitting on one of the overturned chests with his head in his hands. There were supplies to fix the wall stacked against the back wall, untouched. Did he come here to fix the room?

Terra seemed relieved to see that it wasn't a thief, and that it was Alex. "Oh dear, what are you doing here this late?"

"Someone had to fix her room," he said weakly, head still in his hands.

Cambyses shifted, uncomfortably. Ever since he got back he heard, a lot, about what went on between his sister and this womanizer. He didn't like it, not one bit. The man in question was nearly ten years his sister's senior, and if that wasn't enough, the man was a playboy. Far moreso than even the likes of Edgar in his prime. He made it apparent how many women he seduced when he was still in the Golden Lion Academy and used his early graduation as another seduction asset. Women found smart men to be extremely attractive...especially when they saw that he could fly them to any romantic spot in the world all by himself.

Cadence's words about what almost occurred between the two suddenly resurfaced in his mind and he growled. How could this man try to take advantage of his baby sister? To almost have sex with her in a time where she needed verbal and emotional comfort, to stay far away from physical confrontation or sex? It made him so angry.

"It is inappropriate for you to be in here," Cambyses suddenly muttered. "You need to leave."

"What?" he lifted his head from his hands and they could see the stubble growing over his face, the broken look in his eyes and the rings underneath. He hadn't been sleeping...but for how long? "What did you just say to me?"

"You heard me. You cannot be here."

"And why the hell not?" he asked, standing quickly, his purple eyes filling with rage.

"Because you are not close to her. You have no business being here. And quite frankly, you are lucky we didn't have you punished for the inappropriate behavior you displayed to my sister—especially so without seeking our consent first."

Alexander started to laugh but Terra looked disturbed, as if she knew where this was going to go. She looked to her son. "He has every right to be here Cambyses, he loves your sister very much and she feels the same way. And your father, or you, do not need to give consent for their feelings. This is not your great-grandfather's time, young man!"

"No, but we do when she's to take that 'feeling' any further." he commented hotly. "She's far too young for him, first of all, and secondly he is nothing more than a womanizer. I have no doubt he would have thrown her away as soon as he had her...like he does with so many women."

"Keep your mouth shut," he warned, fists tightening at his side.

"Cambyses, please, you are—"

"Mother, in all due respect, you are wrong here." Terra's face turned bright red, either humiliated, upset or angry. "Allowing him to treat my sister, your daughter, no different than the women he...partakes in...any other day is not a good thing, nor does it mean he loves her."

"You always talk to your mother that way?" Alex asked, fists still tightened at his side. Terra could see he was barely holding his anger back.

"Mind your own business," Camb growled. "Fine. You may very well love my sister Alex, it doesn't mean you are good for here. You never will be. And when I get my sister back, she will not be the same person. She will not be able to give you what you want, she will barely be able to coupe with a semi-normal life. It would be best if you would just...move on."

"I don't care what you say," Alex's fists relaxed, his anger no longer in control. "I know very well how I feel, and how she feels will be up to her—when I rescue her."

"You have plans to rescue her? Just leave it to us Alexander, you could very well screw it up for me, which in turn would screw it up for her."

"You? You have plans?!" he shouted, his anger once again rising. "How long do you plan to sit on your ass while she is tortured and raped so that you could live?! How long?!"

"Calm down, the both of you!" Terra shouted as she came to stand between them. First she directed her son, angrily, "Never again will I hear you speak to me in such a fashion, am I clear?" Cambyses turned pink but nodded. "Good! I do not want to hear you assuming you know how people feel. He says he loves her, than he does—the same for your sister." Next she directed Alex. "As for you...I appreciate your help in trying to restore my daughter's room Alexander, I do, and you are welcome here whenever you feel like it. But I only going to ask this of you once; please do not blame my son for what happened to Emma. He was not in charge, he did not send her over to Alúzar—I did. Her father and I are the only ones to be blamed for this, not my sons, not their uncle...not even Derell."

Alexander's eyes softened and he lowered his head. Here he was bickering about Cambyses sitting around as his own sister was abused when he forgot what the turmoil must be like for the girl's parents. "I'm sorry my Queen..."

"That is fine," she accepted with a warm smile. "May you give me and my son a moment to discuss something in private?"

Alex looked up at Cambyses and then her. "Alright..." he turned to the soon-to-be king. "I'm giving you a month Cambyses, and that's all. If you do not act by then, I will and the gods help your father if something has taken her away from me." and then he walked right by him and out the door.

The soon-to-be king could barely control himself. He didn't want to look more like a fool in front of his mother. Instead, he smiled at her. "I'll get her back mother, I promise you. She will be back with us...you know that, right?"

Terra's eyes glistened with tears as she hugged her son. "I have no doubts, dear."

---

Sherra returned as quickly as she was allowed too. She found that Emma had been abandoned by her son but that she was properly cared for. A split was put against her broken arm, bandages wrapped tightly around her ribs and fresh salve applied to remaining cuts and bruises.

The girl was also carefully placed at the center of the bed.

It, of course, lifted Sherra's spirits to see that Emma was alright, but it surprised her that her son—a young man who has not displayed this kind of emotion since he was just a small boy—had cared for her so diligently. What was it that happened that drove Luke's new and insane emotion for the princess of Figaro?

She sat by the girl and waited until she woke. It wasn't until the third day that the princess finally woke. Sherra, absolutely relieved, smiled down at her. "Good morning Emma. How are you feeling, dear?"

Soft, tired purple-blue eyes met hers. "What...what happened?"

"You were hit pretty hard last time around Emma, but don't worry, you are healing nicely."

Her worn out eyes shifted toward the door for a moment. "Where...where are they?"

"They are gone. Luke went with Derell down to the southern ports to meet...um...cargo. Eric is in the other corridor studying."

Silence followed for a moment, then two, three and four until Emma mumbled, "Sherra?" it looked like the girl had something on her mind she wanted to get rid of, desperately.

"Hmm?"

"Is...is it true you're pregnant?"

Sherra shifted uncomfortably. "If I'm not already—and I doubt that I am not—then I will be very soon. Derell wants more children, and I cannot tell him no. Not when he might find a poor girl or...or take you for that purpose." then, wondering how she found out, Sherra asked, "who told you about this?"

"Luke told me while...earlier."

"I see," the woman muttered dryly. She had no doubt he hoped the news would turn the girl against her. "Are you angry with me?"

Emma looked shocked by the question. "Why—why would I be?"

"Good then!" she chirped with a bright smile. "Say, how about I get you something to do? Would you like some canvases and paint? A checker game? Or maybe a book, at least?"

The last word brightened the princess up instantly. "A book? I—I can read here?"

"Of course! Everyone is allowed to read here...Derell doesn't let the slaves read on duty, but they are allowed to read here. So I don't think you have anything to worry about. Now...what would you like to read?"

Only one book came to mind, a book so rare she doubted Sherra, or anyone in Alúzar, could possible obtain a copy. Something so precious to her that she doubted Derell would allow her to have. "The Swan." Emma answered, almost as if she wasn't aware she had said it aloud.

"I've never heard of it," Sherra mumbled, but smiled none the less. "But I will try my hardest to find you a copy."

"Thank you Sherra...but I don't want to be a problem." worried eyes caught the queen's but had no changing effect.

"Don't thank me yet, and you are not a problem—you never will be." and then she rose to her feet to grab the girl's face, softly, and then leaned down to kiss her forehead. "For now, rest up dear, you deserve it more than anyone. When you wake, maybe I will have that book waiting for you." Emma closed her eyes, the warm hands having coaxed her toward her dreams. "Rest and let the next morning greet you, Emma."

That was the last she heard Sherra say before she slipped into slumber, the knowledge of Luke and Derell being away being more than enough to sweeten her dreams.

---

Alexander was sure of it. The Figaro men were cowards. They would not act to save Emma, at least not until it was too late to rescue the girl and not just a shell. If half of the stories he heard about Alúzar from the soldiers or the few civilians that fled the country was true, it was a place of evil. A hell whom demons roamed day and night, unchecked and constantly thirsty for violence and blood. Worst of all was the stories concerning the torture methods that Alúzar did, and what made it so bad was that he knew it was true. He had seen what they had done to Cambyses Figaro, prince of Figaro, soon to be king. And he broke, which the prince was not afraid to admit to family, that it wasn't very long that he held out.

So how could anyone expect a girl no older than fifteen to last against her rapists, against the truest definition of a "mad king"?

He had vowed himself to her, to her safety, to her heart and he was letting her down by waiting around for Edgar or Cambyses to stop cowering to an inferior force, to save the princess—daughter and sister!—of Figaro.

The last words he had said to her hung heavily in his mind. Oh why did he have to make such bold promises? He knew there was nothing in the world that would prevent him from trying, but to promise with certainty...why did the Gods forsake him, to continue to forsake Emma? Had the girl committed something truly heinous in some past life?

No. The Gods be damned. He wasn't going to let her rot in some prison cell in the hands of Derell Aluza, or his demon seed. He knew what he had to do, and he knew the risks.

He needed a friend. He needed someone who owed him a hefty favor...and he knew just the person. The problem was finding him.

So in the dead of night, when his family slept soundly—jealous that he could not get rest anymore—he crept out and left a long letter taped to the door of his parents room, and then he fired up the engine to his personal airship. He watched the windows of their little corner house, waiting for a familiar face to appear and rush out to stop him. No, he couldn't give any of them a chance to follow him. They would stop him, especially Cambyses. He had to do it though, even if it meant never seeing their faces again.

He just couldn't take another day without her, not another nightmare...not another lonely night wondering what she was going through.

Alexander Orazio Gabbiani was not a man to lie, even moreso to the woman he professed himself to. Emma would be home soon. By his side.

It was the last time he would let her down.

---

Sherra went through the library several times just to make sure that she was not missing the book, but with each pass she realized the book was probably extremely rare. If her library—one she liked to think was the largest library in the world—lacked it, then how many copies actually existed? Frustrated, she sent men out to local markets in search of a copy, and even put up fliers in the towns just to borrow one...but they either found nothing or no one knew about it.

By the end of the week she realized she couldn't give the poor girl the book. She was ready to let the girl know but her husband and son returned early and she happened upon them in the throne room, whispering to each other while Professor Corbot stood aside, going through a list of some sort.

"Derell," she gasped in fright, stopping dead in her tracks. She regretted it the second it slipped, because even she knew she sounded disappointed and angry. He turned to her as if she barged into the room screaming.

"What are you doing here, woman?"

"I...I didn't know you were home, that's all." she cast her eyes away from him, knowing that if he even suspected she was eavesdropping on their conversation he would take it out on Emma. "I thought you would be gone until the end of the month."

"You thought wrong," he motioned Corbot to leave and then did the same for his son. As soon as they were alone, Derell smiled. "You look disappointed that I am here. What kind of wife is disappointed to see her husband return safely?"

"That's not it," she answered him quickly. "I was looking for something, and I couldn't find it."

"You expect me to believe that? Lie a little harder at least."

"I'm telling you the truth." her eyes narrowed in anger. "I was looking for a book for Emma. I can't find it."

Derell's facial expression shifted into agitation for the flattest second upon hearing the girl's name and then it vanished into a blank slate. If he disbelieved her story, he did a great job at masking it. Instead he shook his head in a slow, disapproving way, yet his words were sweet, "Oh, is that all? What's the book in question?"

Sherra's eyes widened. "I can find it Derell. You don't need to help."

"I want to." he said firmly. "What is the name?"

She licked her dry lips. "The Swan."

One eye brow winged and a smile crept on his face. "A 'classic' created by the hands of some Figarian lunatic? Has she read it before?"

"Not—not all of it."

"Alright then, I'll have a copy forwarded to our room in the morning. You are dismissed." he turned his back to her and marched toward the exist behind the throne, leaving Sherra to wonder exactly was going to transpire.

Just as Derell had said, in the morning someone knocked loudly against their door. When she woke to the sound she found that Derell was not in bed, again, and fear bubbled in her stomach. She immediately thought of Emma and charged toward the door, opening it—intending to run right by whoever it was—but it several guards. They held their block firmly.

"The king said you wanted this." one of the guards handed over a copy of a book, with the words 'The Swan'. It looked like it was freshly printed and covered with leather. She opened the book to check that it actually contained words and, surprised to see it was actually a book, she looked back up at the soldier.

"Where is Derell right now?"

The guards exchanged unsure glances. "He said to tell you he is taking care of business."

Sherra's eyes widened. Emma! "Where is he?! Is he with Emma?"

The first guard, the one that had given her the book, frowned. "Your Majesty, please, you know you aren't supposed to interfere."

She slapped him so hard the young man startled and fell back into one of his comrades. She knew he was only doing his job, that it was unfair to hit him, but she couldn't take it. She wanted answers! She was the queen! Wife of Derell! She deserved to know what her husband was doing. "Where is he?" she asked again, firmer.

The young man, cheek reddened, shook his head. "We can't tell you. We wish we could, but we can't. We would be punished."

She scoffed at them. "You?" she gestured to the lot. "You will be punished?! Where is your compassion?! Where is your sense of justice?! There is a child being abused and you only care for yourselves?!"

"You know it isn't like that," he tried to explain. "We have families ourselves, and those of us who don't...you ask them to throw their lives away to do what? Free this child? What good would come of these men—" he looked around at his men. "—when they are killed in the process? We care, we do, but you can't expect us to throw our lives away for...for a stranger. For a...a slave."

Tears swelled up in her eyes. "Just tell me...please...I won't say a word to him. She's just...she's just a child."

One of the guards to the far left shifted uncomfortably, and then sighed. "He's taken her to the south-east wing, to the chambers. He's..." his sentenced died off for a second as he looked at his comrades. "...he's furious."

"Thank you," she whispered to them, the tears flowing now, and hurried passed them, leaving the book behind.

She should have known better than to think that her husband suddenly grew a heart. He wouldn't just give to anyone, especially to the child of the man he hated...oh why was she so stupid?

As she rushed down the south-east wing, sweat beading on her forehead, she saw soldiers and servants staring after her, either concerned or annoyed. Did they know? Did they know, at least, that she sought out the newest toy of Derell's? She tried to fight back the urge to think about defying him but what he was doing...it was the last straw!

She broke into the chamber room in an uproar, causing the heads of the soldiers standing around the room to look at her. Derell's eyes never lifted off his toy, whom was lying unconscious on the floor, naked. After a long pause, Derell reached up to button his shirt and Sherra knew she was too late. Finally, he turned to her. "I see some of my men cannot keep their mouths shut."

"I wasn't told a thing," she snapped, fists tightening at her side. Her eyes went to Emma. "If you've had your fun, I'm taking her back now."

Derell started to laugh. "You think you can command me, woman?"

She sucked in her breath, afraid her choice of words would come back to hurt the girl. "No, it isn't a command...please, let me take her back. Please Derell. She's...she's had enough."

The king of Alúzar smiled and then looked down at the girl. "Fine." he snapped his fingers and the soldiers quickly scrambled to lift the girl off the floor, while the others recovered her clothing. "She's not much fun at this state." As the girl was passed into the queen's arms, she saw the girl's bleeding nose. Sherra was grateful for it, grateful that Derell, at least, kept from beating her. "Get the girl ready for the morning, woman. I have plans for her and should they be delayed...it falls on her."

Quickly she shuffled out of the room, trying her hardest to hold the girl against her side until they reached her room. It was too difficult; the girl was simply too big for her and being unconscious made it hard to keep her up straight. And to make matters worse some of the soldiers were more than pleased to stand by and watch their queen drag around a naked girl for their viewing pleasures. The others who adverted their eyes still wouldn't help of their own free will, fearful for the reaction their king might have. She wouldn't involve them anyways.

When Sherra finally had the daughter of Figaro in her bed she took a few more minutes inspecting her for any injuries.

Derell hadn't hurt her physically.

But why? Why did he choose this night to...to take the girl and to do it without physically abusing her no less? Did it have something to do with Johl, Corbot and whatever it was Emma had to be ready for in the morning? Looking to see if anyone was around, Sherra peaked out the door and went back to Emma, now holding a bottle in her hands. She popped one of the pills into her hand and retrieved a glass of water.

"Emma, you need to wake up. Come on dear...that's it...sshh." Purple-blue eyes met hers and Sherra smiled tenderly. "Can you sit up?" A groan came from the princess but she lifted herself up, weakly and was quickly given support against the queen's body. "Did he hit you Emma? Do you hurt anywhere?"

Tears rolled down her cheeks. "He—he never hit me. He only—only..."

"Sssh, you don't have to say it," she whispered, smoothing her curly hair down her back even as the girl sobbed into the woman's shoulder. "Sssh now."

"I just want to go home," she cried hoarsely. "I want to go home."

"Oh Emma, I know, I know." she pulled the girl away and gently wiped the tears from her eyes. "I want you to be safe. I want you to be back in Figaro with your mother and your father, safe from harm, safe from my husband. I do. And one day it will happen. The Gods will hold your fate in their hands and they will help you alter what will come, I just know it."

Emma sniffed and wiped the back of her hand against her runny nose. "Why have they forsaken me?"

For a second Sherra wasn't sure how to answer it. She had asked the same question a million times over, sat on her knees and begged the gods to help her, to change her life, but nothing ever happened. Opportunities certainly appeared, most of which required dangerous risks for her life, but mostly...nothing. Why did the omnipotent beings that supposedly cared for them, continuously let them be hurt? Sherra didn't have the answers, not the official—if there are official words—words to tell the girl in her hour of need, but she did have her own experiences and feelings to share.

"Emma...the Gods did not forsake you. They always watch over you, even when you forsake them. When bad happens...why do you assume it was by the hands of the Gods? Why do you assume they take joy in your pain?"

"If—if it isn't their fault...who is doing this to me?" she asked desperately.

"Derell is." was her simply answer before she extended her hand toward the girl, revealing the small pill in her palm. The princess looked confused. "And I promise as long as I am here, I will help your fate untwist. I promise. Just...just trust me Emma."

Hesitantly, Emma accepted the pill and the cup that was offered to her after. "What...what is this?"

"Something to help you...trust me Emma." For a second Sherra was sure the girl would give her the pill back, afraid perhaps, but she swallowed the pill with a generous gulp. "Good. Now let's get you cleaned up and put some food in your belly, huh?"

"Sherra..." Emma said softly. "thank you...for everything."

All the queen did was smile back.

---

Well...that's it for this chapter!

As of July 22nd 2014, chapter 10 has been remade! I hope you enjoy it guys! :)