CHAPTER 9

It took a long time for Jasper to get used to the Queen's unending absence. The knowledge of it hung heavily in his mind for years afterwards, and often he would wonder what, exactly, she would do in this situation or say in this instance. Her children continued to grow up without her, time moved on, and there was no respite from the everlasting, grueling, day-by-day toil that was stepping into the role that she'd asked of him.

There was nobody in line to take the throne, and though the people of Albion demanded that somebody take the seat, neither he nor Walter gave in to their desires. A small circle of people the Queen trusted to run Albion had been chosen by her in her own Will to run the country until Logan was ready to take the kingdom, and they got on reasonably well. Jasper and Walter were always included in on their debates and their opinions were given much weight, which always surprised the gentile butler. He loved Albion, true, and he might have some fine ideas once in a blue moon, but most of it seemed to be over his head in many aspects. Walter didn't seem to like it, either.

Logan, however, threw himself into Albion's politics a mere six months after his mother's death. He made it his business to know everything of everyone and everywhere in the kingdom, and though he was merely a Prince, many people began to respect him as the future King. He was smart, clever, and picked up the subtle nuances of politics and people-work very, very well and fast. He was the exact image the people needed: the young, orphaned son of a great Hero, rising to the challenge of running a country faster and with a more level head than most of his peers. In fact, he could almost be considered a prodigy of sorts in the world of ruling a country – of ruling Albion.

Jasper, however, had his fears. While Logan would make a very good King, he was still too young. There wasn't a real age-limit for that type of thing, but there should have been. Logan never got to go and be a kid. The days of playing with the noble boys were all but forgotten as he threw himself bodily into his work. Jasper constantly tried to remind him to go out and enjoy himself, but the only person Logan seemed to listen to any more was Sir Walter, who had become his advisor on many matters of importance.

Jasper tried not to feel snubbed in any way. After all, a young man such as he probably didn't want to spend his time listening to the advice of a butler. But still, it stung. He just tried not to show it.

Things were changing in Albion at a rate he wasn't entirely comfortable with. The first of the changes began when, nearly a year after Illandere's untimely death, a black carriage trimmed with pure gold pulled up in the front gardens and courtyard. Jasper, who happened to be out there talking to Lisella about an upcoming dinner party, eyed the carriage suspiciously. It was drawn by two large, muscular white horses that looked as though they'd been whipped recently. The driver was a short man in a top hat who brought the carriage to a sharp halt, climbed down, and opened the carriage door with quiet pompousness.

A black boot touched the cobblestones, followed by a nice, sharply-dressed man in a top hat. A strange birthmark on his left cheek in the shape of a heart gave away his identity immediately, but Jasper would have known who he was anyway just by the singular air of cruel, unjustified power that emitted off of his very body or the antiquated, beautifully crafted weapon hanging on his belt.

Reaver had come to the castle.

He tapped his black, shiny walking stick on the cobblestones appreciatively as he eyed the castle. "Wonderful, wonderful," he said in a cheerful voice. "Good. Needs to be a bit spookier, though, in my taste. People can't really respect what they don't fear… but no matter. Charles, get my bags."

"Excuse me," Lisella said indignantly, walking right up to the man with her hands on her hips. "And what exactly is your business here, Reaver?"

"Oh, Lisella," Reaver gushed. He reached down and took her hand in his own, bending down to kiss it. "I do remember our marvelous time together all those years ago. I hope that you have just as many sweet memories as I do."

"You can burn in hell," Lisella said waspishly. "And in case you have forgotten, I got what I desired from you, and now you're nothing but an insect mooching off of a dead Queen. I'd just as well Queen Illandere threw you to the dogs that night."

"Such a charming personality as ever, my dear," Reaver said with a charismatic smile. "But you're comparing me to mooching off of a dead Queen when you still take up residence in her castle? I'm insulted, dear Lisella."

"Keep that forked tongue inside your mouth, you killer, and do not hand out your honeyed poisons here," Lisella threatened.

"Contrary to your apparently strong belief, my dearest lady, I did not come for you. I've come for – "

"I know you've come for Logan," she said, narrowing her eyes. "You will not get to see him."

"Once again, you have not lost your charming personality, dearest Lisella," Reaver said. "However, this is not the time for a woman to be telling me who I may or may not see. What you're going to do is scurry along now while the grown ups converse, understand? Toodle-loo."

Lisella's face went a shade darker than normal. "I know your secrets," she hissed. "I know about Oakvale and your role in that. I know about the Shadow Court, and so did Lionheart. So you better watch your step around me. You can't kill me, either, you frog. I've made sure of that."

Reaver's face froze in a smile. "Oh, you did do the thing correctly, then, didn't you?" he asked.

"Too right I did," Lisella countered with venom in her voice.

Reaver nodded once and glanced over at Jasper, who'd been standing behind her awkwardly, his mind struggling to keep up with the riot of conversation. He'd never seen Lisella in such a temper before, and knew without a doubt that Reaver was just as vile and repulsive as Queen Illandere had claimed. He had an air of charisma about him though, that, as slimy and disgusting as it was, seemed to pull Jasper inwards. He wanted to agree with the man, he found, and he had to fight that urge very hard. "You, what is your standing here?" Reaver barked.

"I am the Queen's butler," Jasper said stiffly, all of those feelings being wiped away in an instant. You did not go around speaking to people as though they were dogs. "And you, sir, don't seem to have an appointment."

"Surely the Queen's own son would like to see somebody so closely related to her?" Reaver beamed.

"Fat chance," Lisella snorted. "Go back to where you came."

"Enough," Reaver snapped. "You do not address guests like that – it is improper."

Jasper felt a sudden chill of cold air that seemed to carry feelings of death and dismay. "The Prince of Albion will not see you," Jasper said, clasping his hands behind his back to disguise their trembling. "And you, sir, will have to depart now." It had to be one of the most courageous things he'd ever done in his life, he later reflected.

"No," Reaver said with a chuckle. "Must we be enemies so soon? I'd at least like to get through tea with you before you make that assumption. Have I killed anybody close to you? No? Taken money from your dearest grandmother? Burned down your house? Slept with your wife? Slept with both of your wives in the same night?" Reaver chortled. "You, sir, have nothing to fear from me as long as you do your job. Now, take me inside. You'll show me to a room where I may put my things, and I will have a talk with the Prince."

"I'm afraid that won't happen," Jasper said stubbornly.

Reaver sighed, rolling his eyes. "Fine, fine, you wish to be difficult? Then I will concede. Now, nobody here get too excited…" He took his gun casually from his hip and cocked it, pointing it at Jasper's forehead. His face twitched in anxiety. "Now do you see the gravity of the situation? I could kill you if I wished, and I would get away with it. Now, what are you going to do?"

"You bastard," Lisella whispered sharply.

"Now, now, madame, if you've done what I think you've done and made a deal with the Shadow Court, then you can't harm me." Reaver smiled. "Just as I can't harm you. But I will put a round through this nice man's balding head if he doesn't do as I say. Do you believe me, dearest?"

Lisella pursed her lips. "You will not get away with this," she said in a trembling voice.

"I believe I just have," Reaver said happily, placing the weapon back on his belt. "Lisella, be a dear and help Charles carry my bags. I simply can't be rude and let him do all of the work… and remember whose life is at stake here."

Jasper was amazed at the man's nerve, but he was more focused on the gun than Lisella's widened eyes and outraged stance. He turned around, closing his eyes to compose himself, and led Reaver into the castle. The guards along the sides of the room watched him suspisciously, and Jasper saw one of them detach themselves from the regiment – probably Derryl – and disappear up one of the side stairs.

"Such a lovely place," Reaver said, looking around. "You could live very comfortably here. It almost reminds me of my home back in Bloodstone… well, before the Spire guards trashed it looking for your dead Queen, I mean."

"You mind your manners when you talk to Logan," Lisella whispered harshly. "What in the bloody hell do you want to talk to him about anyway?"

"That is between me and His Royal Highness, I believe," said Reaver flippantly.

Jasper led him up one of the side staircases to the guest quarters and gave him the first room that was open. Reaver walked in past him, a large smile on his face that quickly diminished. "This won't do," he said. "No, not at all."

"If you're expecting the Queen's own bedroom you are vastly mistaken," Jasper said sharply. "You will sit here and you will like it." He swallowed. "And if you kill me for it, I know of plenty of people here who would take a serious issue with that."

He just hoped that Sir Walter was one of them.

Reaver laughed. "I would never kill you for something as trivial as this, my friend."

"Yes you would," Lisella said harshly. "Now quit your games."

"Yes – yes, this is getting rather tiresome. Lead me to the Prince at once!"

"You are going to stay here, Reaver," Lisella said. "Jasper, you go tell the Prince what is going on, and when the Prince decides to see you he will see you. If he doesn't want to, then you will leave and not bother us any more."

"I'm shocked," Reaver said humbly. "Such manner you treat your guests. Very well, I shall wait here with you, then. Perhaps we could… relive some of our fonder memories of each other?"

Lisella scowled at him. "Never."

What a lovely relationship they have…

Jasper never did find out what Logan and Reaver discussed, because Logan had apparently told Walter to leave the room. Insisted, actually. It was probably some strange sort of way of saying that he was a grown-up man now, but, really, he wasn't. Logan was a mere fourteen years old and not a man by anybody's standards. Maybe another year, maybe two… but Jasper wasn't looking forward to it.

Logan would not say what he and Reaver talked about except that he offered him a deal that was 'stupid.' Reaver didn't leave the castle after his talk with him, though, and it was with disgust that Jasper had to wait upon him in his rooms.

There was one dark, terrifying moment that stuck out above all others in his mind, even past the threat on his life. He walked in to Reaver's room with a cup of tea that he had requested only to see Darrina sitting on his bed. Reaver's gloved white hand was stroking her face thoughtfully. "What the devil are you doing?" Jasper demanded, placing the tea on the table.

"She came to my room out of her own volition," Reaver said simply.

Darrina closed her eyes, biting her lip. Sarge was sitting at her feet, staring intently at Reaver. "I wanted to greet our… guest," she said lamely. She stood quickly, glaring down at Reaver with frightened eyes. "You are truly evil and corrupted."

"You so look like your mother," Reaver said. "But you don't act like her at all, now, do you?"

"What do you mean?" Darrina whispered.

"You came to my room wondering if she was wrong about me," Reaver laughed. "Didn't you? Your mother trusted the blind woman with such a naïve air. She didn't even give me a chance. You're far too trusting for your own good, Princess."

"I'd trust Theresa over you any day," Darrina said, narrowing her eyes.

Reaver laughed. "Would you, now? That such a mean thing to say. Is there nobody left in this world who trusts Reaver for being Reaver? I'm hurt, Princess, deeply hurt."

"Not hurt enough," Jasper said defensively. "Princess, get out of here. Allow me to tell our guest how to treat a young lady. A young lady!"

"You felt it, didn't you?" Reaver taunted her. "When I touched your face, I did, too. I know what you are now. That's all I came for, little Hero."

"You came for my brother, too," Darrina snapped. "You came to twist him under and around your finger. Luckily for you he's not so stupid. Finding out which one of us was the Hero was only a secondary plan for you, am I right? You wanted to see what position you were in after my mother died. You wanted to know what kind of foothold you could get. Well, now you know who will give you trouble in the future, and I will, soon as I'm old enough."

"Now you're becoming more like your mother," Reaver said. "Making promises she can't carry out. I like you already."

Jasper and Darrina exchanged a look, and Darrina abruptly left, her shoulders stiffened and her head held high. Sarge growled at Reaver, his hair on end. The puppy had grown a lot in the past year and was nearly half the size that Marcus had been… which was pretty big, come to think of it. "Oh, get out of here, you rabid animal," Reaver said lazily, kicking him away.

Sarge bared his teeth and snapped at Reaver's ankle, biting down hard enough to elicit a scream of surprise. Reaver reached for his weapon with hands quicker than a striking snake, but the man, in his folly, had placed it on the table next to the tea. Sarge began to drag the man off of the bed. "Get off, get off!" Reaver yelped, attempting to kick him off with the other foot. "You're tearing my pants, you fool!"

Darrina appeared back in the door way, her eyes narrowed. "Sarge – out."

Sarge released him immediately, a growl building up deep in his throat, and Reaver sneered at him. "Yes, yes, we all know you're posturing. Get out of my sight, you animal."

"Good boy," Darrina congratulated him, kneeling down to stroke Sarge's back. "Did you get a good chomp in for me?"

"I hope you'll be leaving soon," Jasper told him quietly.

"You can have every assurance of that," Reaver snapped, examining his damaged leg. "That damned dog is lucky I'm in a tolerant mood today."

Darrina and Sarge stalked out of the room, but the point was made. Blood dripped from the hem of Reaver's leg and on to the carpeted floor. Jasper sighed, foreseeing the future clean-up, and just left the room.

Reaver left the castle in the middle of the night, skulking away like the thief he was. Jasper later found Darrina and asked her what, exactly, happened in the room. "I came in about a minute before you did," she muttered, busying herself with her drawing. She'd taken up a few artistic hobbies since her mother's death and was currently working on her graphite skills by drawing some of the statues around the castle. "All he did was tell me to sit on the edge of his bed and said he wanted to try something. He said not to be scared. He touched my face, and it felt exactly the same way that it did when Hannah hugged me a year ago."

Jasper wasn't a dumb man. "You're a Hero, aren't you?" he breathed in shock. "That's why Reaver came."

"I think so," the eleven-year-old said, pursing her lips. "When Hannah and I touched, I knew everything about her. I knew that she was nice, but tired, you know? And when Reaver touched my face, I saw every horrible thing he'd ever done… I saw how evil he was, I saw how… how he came to be what he is now. Isn't that the oddest thing? I didn't get a long enough look… but it's there. There are connections there that he didn't give me enough time to make. And now he knows everything about me. He'll use it to his advantage if he doesn't kill me first."

"Reaver would never dare kill you," Jasper said stiffly. "Not with Sir Walter around."

"There's a reason he's lived so long, Jasper. He's nearly as old as Theresa… probably even older!"

"Then how is he still alive?" Jasper asked, his eyes widening.

"The Shadow Court," Lisella whispered, emerging out of a side door. She appeared to have been listening. "Every fifty years or so Reaver sends a young man or woman to the Shadow Court in Wraithmarsh with a dark seal. The Shadow Court takes their youth from them, leaving them a broken and empty shell, and in return Reaver does not age. He's played this game for years… I don't know how he's managed to keep it quiet for so long or gone unpunished."

"How do you know?" Darrina asked incredulously.

"Reaver and I have a history with each other," Lisella said softly. "It's bitter and dark, but it's there. We each used the other for our own gain and both of us think that our needs were more… well, better than the other's. But Reaver is only out for his own gain, and what I wanted was simply revenge against a very bitter, broken-down man."

"Reaver?" Jasper asked.

"No, not Reaver – another man. Another… murderer. He left me in the woods to rot and fester, but there were people there who knew of his intentions. They let him leave me there and then nursed me back to help, teaching me what I needed to know… They are the reason I'm still alive today, fifteen years later." Lisella pursed her lips. "The only one in the world who knows of the exact turn of events now is Reaver, and he won't hesitate to use it against me. But I know very powerful secrets of his, too. He won't dare move against the castle while I'm still around, I don't think. He's afraid of the truth, he just doesn't know it yet. Age hasn't made him any wiser to anything deeper than the depth of his crotch, I'm afraid."

Jasper hadn't known that. As far as he knew, Lisella had simply sprung into being with her witchcraft and bad temper – to guess at a story behind it wasn't something he actively thought about. This revelation of her past, however small, surprised him; Reaver must have really worked her up. "I'm so sorry," he said.

"Don't be," Lisella said with a shake of her head. "What I've done in my life were my choices and my regrets to live with. I'm just explaining Reaver to you. Darrina, I have known what you were from the moment I laid eyes on you when you were born. Your mother knew, as well. And I have a feeling that the fortune-teller visited you, hasn't she?"

Darrina nodded. "She… did, yes."

"Be careful of Theresa," Lisella whispered. "Be very, very careful. She may act like she wants to help, but she has her own motivations. Your mother never fully trusted her after she took the Spire for herself, and I think that should say something. She was never really wrong about anybody she's ever crossed, and she's known Theresa for a very long time."

"When did you meet this woman, Darrina?" Jasper asked with a frown. He was worried she'd somehow gotten in the castle, which would be a very, very bad thing.

Darrina winced. "She told me not to tell anybody," she muttered, bowing her head. "Especially not to my friends."

"Because the only friends you had at the time were adults who knew the world and it's schemes better than somebody your own age," Lisella muttered, shaking her head. "What did she tell you?"

"I'd… rather not say." Darrina looked uncomfortable, but her head was tilted at that stubborn angle that Jasper recognized almost instantly. "Sorry, Lisella. And sorry, Jasper. I didn't mean to not tell you, I wanted to so bad when I first saw her… I was just afraid. And then Mom left and she came back and she died and I knew that I shouldn't mention it."

Lisella and Jasper locked glances. "She met you on your tenth birthday, didn't she?" Lisella demanded, instantly making that leap of logic. "Your mother left two days after your trip to the Markets… Did you and Walter leave the girl alone at all, Jasper?"

"Uh…" Jasper winced, remembering. "Yes… for a good half hour at least. Perhaps forty-five minutes."

"Why?" Lisella asked sharply.

"He, Elliot, and Sir Walter went to take a pee and left me n the bridge," Darrina muttered. "And apparently while they were peeing some thugs tried to jump Jasper, and Walter took offence and things got ugly. While that was happening, Theresa and I were… having a conversation. Somewhere. And I'm not saying any more!"

Jasper frowned, running through the day's events in his mind. For the life of him he couldn't remember if Darrina had seemed any different between those times he saw her, but all he could recall was her instant concern for his welfare and an argument about a few minor details in his story. The Queen's departure had overshadowed the rest.

"You should have told me, Princess," Jasper said, placing a hand on her shoulder. She looked away from his eyes, biting her lip. "You've gone through a lot this past year, but I want you to trust me like you did before," he pleaded. "Let me help you."

"I do trust you, Jasper," she said brokenly. "And I trust you, too, Lisella! And Sir Walter, and Sarge, and… well, a whole lot of other people. But this is for me, this is… just for me. She said that my future doesn't belong to anybody else, only I should know it. She was just the giver."

"Was there something bad in your future?" Lisella asked.

"She… gave me some Fate Cards," Darrina muttered. "And told me what they meant. It wasn't pretty good."

"What were they?"

"The Relic, The Night, and The Mage," Darrina muttered. It made no sense to Jasper. "I don't even really know what they mean, only what she's told me and that could be a dozen different things or ideas. I just don't know, I am so confused. And then Mom left and she came back and died, all because Theresa asked her to go. And I'm pretty sure Theresa went to Hammer, too, because that would be the only reason Hammer would even know of Mom's state since she's all the way up there in the North. Then Hammer said she was going to die by the time I'm a real Hero, and Garth is probably already dead. Reaver just keeps living because of his stupid deal with the Shadow Court, and he's not going to be a real Hero – he's like an anti-Hero or something. He's evil and self-centered and, and… and so stupid. He's going to make things really hard for me one day." The frown on her face looked like it was going to be etched there for the next ten years.

"I think Theresa likes to be in the center of things," Lisella said carefully. "I have no clue what mission your mother or Hannah went on, but I'm sure that Reaver wasn't a part of it."

"I don't know," Darrina muttered. "I just don't know."

"When you touch somebody, you can tell if they are a Hero or not, can't you?" Lisella asked.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Did you touch Theresa?"

"Theresa is an Immortal," Darrina said. "She… had the same energy as Mom, but her's was different. A lot older."

"Well, I'm completely lost," Jasper said.

"As am I," Lisella muttered. She sighed. "I suppose it doesn't matter yet… but we must keep this between the three of us. This shouldn't be spread about."

"Even Reaver's situation?" Darrina asked.

"Reaver is my case, not something you should be concerned about yet," Lisella said roughly. "I'll make sure Reaver pays for his crimes, have no doubt of that."

"You're a scary woman," Darrina told her. "Hey, can you teach me some of the stuff you know? So I'm better prepared, I mean. I've been wanting to ask you for a year, but I didn't know how to make you not suspicious."

"Oh, honey, I've been suspicious the entire time. I always am." She laughed, though it sounded a bit forced. "Come up to my room tomorrow and I'll get you started on a few things… is that fine with you, Mister Jasper?"

Jasper had never quite made it a secret that he didn't approve of Lisella's unusual tendencies, but different times called for different strategies… and different morals, it seemed. "I don't," Jasper muttered. "But don't use any of the things she teaches you for… mischief. Especially with that boy you're so fond of."

"Elliot?" Darrina asked innocently.

"Yes, Elliot. The blonde cry-baby."

Darrina smirked. "His voice is starting to crack now," she said wryly. "It's kind of cute."

"Cute, indeed," Jasper muttered. "The two of you stay where I can see you."

"And no in the middle of the night visits," Darrina said, rolling her eyes. "You know, sometimes I think you underestimate my maturity, Jasper."

"You're only eleven," he admonished. "Even if you are exceedingly clever and grown-up for your age, it is my job to look out for you."

"Jasper," she said with a knowing smile. "Would Elliot and I ever do anything like that?"

"Like what? Pardon?"

"Like sex."

Jasper's eyes bugged out. "When did you learn about that?" he asked in shock, his stomach doing flips. "How in the blazes - ?"

"I'm eleven, Jasper, not six," she admonished. "I know about lots of things."

"Well you keep that knowledge to yourself!" Jasper reprimanded. "For heaven's sake, Walter just talked to Logan about that the other day. How long have you known?"

Lisella laughed openly. "I told her a long time ago, Jasper," she said, placing both hands on Darrina's shoulders in a motherly way. "She asked and I answered. It's nothing to be ashamed of, and she is more mature than most twenty-year-olds out there."

"Lisella – that's not your place!" Jasper snapped. "It was her mother's, and then it fell to Walter and I – "

"Please, Jasper, would you rather give her all of the gory details?" Lisella asked with a laugh. "See? I thought not. Besides, it was a girl conversation."

"A very girl conversation, Jasper," Darrina said seriously. "And you really don't want to ask any more questions."

"No, no, I think my inquisitiveness has been sufficed for the day," Jasper said, shaking his head. "You both are going to be the death of me. I can feel it already. Oh…"

"But you love us," Darrina said wryly.

"I love you, yes. Very much, in fact," Jasper said. "Lisella… I'm not sure if I'm fond of her at all or not…"

Lisella snorted in a very unladylike manner. "Please, Jasper," she said, flicking her hand in the hair like whisking away an irksome fly. "Anyways, the reason I came down was because Loretta was looking for you. She wants to get your new dresses fitted."

Darrina's face crumpled. "You're kidding."

"Come on, go be a Princess for once," Lisella said. And, to Jasper's amazement, Darrina sighed, got up, and left. Lisella flashed him a waspish grin that only looked a trace fake. "Some week."

"Some week, indeed," Jasper said, shaking his head. "If I have to endure any more weeks like these it will be almost too much, I think."

"If the girl is what she is, though…"

"She is. I believe her… I'm worried about it, but I do believe her. You don't?"

"No, I do," Lisella said. "Reaper was mighty interested in her after his talk with Logan. Actually, I tried to keep the girl away from him as long as I could, but I should've guessed that he wouldn't have left without making sure that there was no threat."

"That man is a vulture," Jasper muttered disgustedly. "A bloody vulture. I can't believe Queen Illandere let him live as long as she has."

"Well she needed him, didn't she?" Lisella asked.

"Yes, indeed…" Queen Illandere had required Hammer – or Hannah as she preferred to be called now – and Garth and Reaver to activate some sort of magical relic at Theresa's urging. It was only through the uniting of the Four Heroes that Lucien could have been defeated. Afterwards, as far as Jasper knew, Hannah had went to visit the warrior monks in the North and Garth had returned to his home of Samarkand… though Reaver, in his insufferable pigheadedness, had followed him. The Queen of Albion had also been allowed one wish from Theresa, the new 'Seer' of the Spire. Only allowed to pick one of three, the Queen had chosen to have her loved ones resurrected. Lucien had killed Byron and Marcus prior to his death. "Though I don't approve of the Seer allowing him to leave for Samarkand. They could have killed him right there, you know. Four against one."

"Reaver is a crafty bastard," Lisella said. "There would have been no way that they could have taken him on without one of them being killed in the process." She shook her head. "And you forget about our Queen's mercy, and Hammer's. Theresa and Garth? I'm not sure about those two, but Sparrow and Hammer were nice enough and powerful enough that everybody just tends to agree with them."

"Lest they catch a hammer in the face," Jasper muttered wryly.

"Those who disagreed with their point of view seldom walked this world upon their meeting," Lisella said with a slight smile. "I miss those days."

"I sure don't," Jasper said fervently.

"Why not?" Lisella asked him with a chuckle. "You had to do nothing. I, meanwhile, was organizing a resistance."

"A resistance against Lucien, yes," Jasper said. "But you're forgetting about my time here. The castle was always empty, the guards were cold, and every day there was a different protest rally in the front gardens. It was horrible. And when Lucien was here… well, the entire castle took on a bit of a demonic air, to put it lightly. Lucien took out his anger on the staff – he never killed them, though. I suppose I should count myself lucky in the fact that he had enough minions waiting aboard the Spire for him to do that. Near the end of his days, a Commandant took control of the castle. He wasn't above terrorizing his subjects, and he would often send Spire Guards to take care of anybody in his way. Being butler to a man like that was horrible, but I couldn't escape. Once Lucien was killed, I could breathe again."

"I've heard stories about that god-awful time," Lisella said. "It's too bad you didn't have more guts – you could have poisoned Lucien's drink when he wasn't looking. All in the name of good business."

"But then who would be to blame?" Jasper shot back. "I thought about it, sure, but… dear, oh, dear, I would never actually kill someone in cold blood. I'm just not like you."

"And you think that I kill people because I like it?" Lisella snapped. "I kill out of necessity. I don't enjoy it, but that's that. I figure that anybody that I'm required to kill is either stupid or on Lucien's payroll. Killing the last was merely business, but killing the first? That is a favor to Albion."

"I'm sorry," Jasper apologized humbly. "I didn't mean to be rude or to presume. I am not you. I shouldn't pretend that I understand any of it."

"Just like I can't understand why you'd prefer to let people walk all over you rather than stand up for yourself," Lisella said, crossing her arms. "But you know, that's okay. I figure as long as there are less people in the world out there like me than like you, everything is okay and I'm doing my job. Unfortunately, Reaver's name still isn't crossed out yet…"

"I'm not so sure that you could kill him easily, despite your practice," Jasper said seriously. Oh, God, here I am talking about destroying another living, human being. What have these people done to me? "He's a powerful man."

"Not that powerful," Lisella said. She chuckled. "Not that powerful… and I don't break my promise. I promised to kill him one day, and I shall."

"I don't doubt you'll try," Jasper muttered.

"I'll prove it to you one day. You may not realize it now, but I will. I promise I will."

A year passed:

Sir Walter began to teach Darrina in earnest how to fight as a warrior should, cloistered away from the others. Sometimes Jasper would watch them from the uppermost window in the room that once belonged to the Queen. It had the best and only view of the area behind the Catacombs, which was to be their little training ground. Meanwhile, Logan fell off of a horse and broke his arm. Also, Reaver never showed his face, much to Lisella's discontent.

Another year passed:

Darrina's thirteenth birthday and Logan's sixteenth were celebrated on the same day since they were two very important numbers. Elliot got Darrina a light blue patterned scarf she took to wearing everywhere, even in the summer; Logan was, finally, told that he may take the kingdom for himself.

Logan's reign began very well, and the people congratulated him. He was popular with his citizens and they with him, though the toils of being king weighed heavily upon him. Jasper noticed more and more that he was more eager for adventure than he had been before, and despite Walter's careful admonishments the new King rode with his soldiers sometimes to battle against gangs of bandits and wolves. His feats won him impressive renown, and it seemed as though nothing could go wrong.

Then another year, then another, all the way until six more years had passed and Logan, now aged twenty-three, decided to take a trip to the distant land of Aurora. Nobody in the court disagreed with him but Jasper, Sir Walter, and, most inexplicably, Darrina. Jasper ever recalled the young girl, now nineteen, gripping her brother's arms before retiring to her bed, saying, "If you go, you must promise that you'll come back to me. Don't let me go through another death – I love you. Too much."

And Logan, with his Kingly air, hugged her and promised. "I love you, too."

Logan went out of contact. Just as they were about to give him up for dead a small, foreign ship sailed in and King Logan disembarked, pale, injured, and maddened. He had lost all of his men to a foreign raid and the locals there had nursed him back to life, he explained. But there was a strange, hard shell around him that hadn't been there previously. Something… strange and mysterious, dark and deadly.

"What happened there?" Walter asked of him time and time again. Each and every time Logan refused to answer. "Balls, you tell me what happened over there! What changed you?" Walter demanded.

It was the first time Jasper saw Logan lose his temper. He knew that it had began to boil and fester like an old, old wound, but he hadn't known at how big the eruption would be. He nearly killed Walter, and probably would have if the old man hadn't taken a step back to avoid the cut of the sword.

"Don't you EVER dare ask questions of that like to be again, understand?" Logan roared. "This is my kingdom, and you are a part of it, Sir. So don't you dare demand an answer from your King when he has told you time and time again no!"

Jasper was appalled at the King's sudden change. It was a horrible transformation, and it went to Darrina, the only one he seemed to still have a soft spot for, to reach out and attempt to help him. Logan did not have a bad reaction with her, but it was still negative and no answers were gleaned. He no longer talked to people and had become exceedingly greedy and harsh with his judgments.

The worst day was when he appointed Reaver as head of Bowerstone Industrial, much to the shock and outrage of those who knew him.

It was only to get much, much worse, and Jasper had a feeling that the days in which Darrina was going to be needed as Albion's Hero were not far off at all…