The next few minutes were a scramble – Roy, deciding that Lilly Carter and Eulalia Shields could join the greeting party of his British family, frantically made his way from the greenhouse, up to the roof of the palace's West Wing. The rain had ended at some point, leaving a veil of grey clouds in the sky and a scent of petrichor spotting the grounds. The skyline of Los Angeles was dull and unwelcoming here.

Ji-Yu had also had the rest of the Selected gathered inside to greet them when they came in. Roy passed them all in the foyer of the West Wing, with Lilly hanging on his arm and Eulalia scurrying behind them, and burst onto the roof.

Indeed, blusters of wind assaulted his face from a looming helicopter, glimmering in wet steel. The blades cleaved air, filling his ears with incessant buzz.

The rain had been cleared on the roof, leaving only a lingering smell around them. Lilly clutched onto Roy's arm, staring at the helicopter with wide eyes. Eulalia, however, didn't appear at all surprised at the Windsors' methods of arrival.

Roy joined Merrick, Gail, Ji-Yu, and a handful of guards in a line, as the helicopter descended onto the helipad. Rudy also joined Roy's side, if only to wait on the family when they exited.

Roy had been nervous with Lilly during their date, but now his nerve ends were fried with the spontaneous arrival of the Windsors. He hadn't had time to mentally prepare, nor did he want to brace himself for the worst week to come. He glanced at starstruck Lilly, and was at least comforted by the awe twinkling in her eyes.

The helicopter shut off, the blades slowing to stop, and a round of guards ran forwards to assist with opening the doors. Roy suddenly wished Durante were here, so he could attempt to impale one of the princes if they got too close for Roy's liking.

He inhaled a deep breath. The door opened.

A bejewelled pair of feet stepped free from the helicopter, and a woman, much older than Ji-Yu, delicately accepted a hand in her own, gloved one to help her down. Silver streaked her red hair, thick and luscious, and weaved throughout a modest gold crown. Her dress suit was wrapped tight beneath a thin, wool coat, and she tapped the ground with a morsel of grace, breathing in the air.

Her blue eyes passed over them – finally landing on Merrick, and, despite the trickles of rainwater left on the pad, she ran over with her arms wide.

"Ricky!" she yelled. "Oh, it's so good to see you!"

Her accent was, for the most part, an elongated and deep British, but there was still a twang of Illéa colouring her words despite how long she'd lived in England. Merrick ran forwards and embraced her, too.

"Pippa," he said. "It's been too long!"

She held him at arm's length. With her heels, she was nearly a head taller – and Merrick was already ridiculously tall to begin with.

"It has!" She grinned, her teeth glimmering in the daylight. "You have grey hair!"

Merrick pouted. "I do not!"

Philippa moved onto Ji-Yu, embracing her in a hug as well, before picking up Gail in her arms.

"Auntie Pip! Auntie Pip!" Gail cheered, picking at Philippa's crown.

Philippa grinned. "You're so big now!"

Roy felt Lilly stiffen beneath him, and ripped his stare away to focus on the helicopter.

Two gentlemen refused help from the guards, disembarking at the exact same time. Their suits, pressed and wrinkleless, were the same shade of navy, matching navy wool jumpers, and their grimaces were the same shade of disgust. The twin on the left – Alexander – roved his eyes over the roof with his bottom lip upturned, his chestnut hair gelled like the front a sharp slope. The twin on the right – Barnabas – looking much more neutral, with his chestnut hair tousled over his forehead. He leant over to Alex with his hands behind his back, muttering something.

Soon, war would begin, and Roy knew it right from the very brittleness of his bones.

Philippa skidded in front of Roy, breaking his view. Gail was still in her arms.

"Oh, Roy!" she chanted, offering him a one-armed hug. "You're so handsome! How long has it been? Four years?"

Roy split his arm from Lilly to accept. "I think so," Roy replied, with his most charming smirk. "Too long."

She petted his shoulder. "Gosh, you're the picture of your mother, you are. And," she swerved to face Lilly, and gave a firm nod, "you must be Miss Lilly Carter! How lucky Roy is to have you!"

Lilly blinked. Eulalia quickly stepped forwards and translated. Baffled still, Lilly nodded, and curtsied her doming rose dress.

Philippa gave her an airy wave. "Oh, nonsense! You don't need to be so formal with me! I know all about your Selection, Roy," she rounded her eyes back to him, and winked, "and what a marvellous bunch they are! I can't wait to meet them all!"

"Well, they're waiting in the West Wing drawing room to greet you," said Roy.

"Yay! They're fun!" said Gail. "And they like hockey!"

"I'll bet they do!" Philippa cooed. She turned her head to Rudy. "Ah, Rudy! Would you mind organising mine and my sons' bags?"

Rudy bowed. "Of course, Your Majesty," he said. "Wonderful to see you again, ma'am."

Philippa, with Gail in her arms, and Rudy behind, moved to the rooftop bulkhead for downstairs. Roy was torn to see them all go, knowing that it meant he had to deal with Alex and Barney by himself.

Lilly came up to his arm, giving him a reassuring squeeze. He'd made it quite known how he felt about the twins, so it was comforting to know Lilly was on his side.

Ji-Yu had embraced Alex as Barney talked with Merrick. Ji-Yu smiled approvingly. "You're as handsome as I remember, Alexander."

A smug grin rose onto Alex's pale face, and he nodded his head. The gel kept his hair rigidly in place. "Thank you, Aunt Ji. You are, equally, as radiant as I remember."

Gag, Roy thought. Alex had always been a kiss-ass. He spoke his clear-cut, hoity-toity British accent with a jagged edge of confidence that sent shivers down Roy's spine. How he'd always daydreamed of punching that stupid face.

Ji-Yu laughed. "Ah, thank you. Your flattery is misaimed, but still appreciated."

Barnabas gave her a hug then, and Ji-Yu's attention was stolen.

That was when Alex's eyes slid to meet Roy's.

A fierce blaze seemed to clash between them. Roy saw nothing in Alex's deep blue eyes, an abyss crawling with a barrage of remorseless taunts and endless mockery, ready to be locked and loaded.

He sneered.

"Fitz."

Roy could feel his muscles shrivel in his skin, as if recoiling away from the very pit of destitute and evil that was Alexander Windsor.

Still, he refused to back down from Alex's gaze. He narrowed his eyes and sneered right back. "Alex."

Alex's lip twitched. "It's Alexander." He paused. "As your elder by three years, you should automatically give me respect."

Unlike Alex, Roy didn't mind being called Fitz. It was part of his name, after all. A stupid nickname, but tolerable in comparison to other things Alex would call him if Ji-Yu weren't in earshot.

A winning smirk captured Roy. "I was always taught that respect was earnt, not given."

An ugly sneer descended on Alex, and, although his hands were firmly laced together behind his back, Roy could still see his arms tense, his jaw clench.

Roy: one. Alex: zero.

He rolled his shoulders back, and the smugness created a nebula around him – winning the battle, losing the war. His eyes darted to Lilly, and the bridge of his nose wrinkled.

"I see you are in the midst of a Selection."

Roy fought his temptation to stand in front of Lilly, protect her from Alex's death glare. "I am."

The corner of his mouth snagged. "Pity you could not find a suitable wife outside the droves of commoners."

Roy dropped his mouth open. Had he just… insulted his entire Selection, the history of his own ancestry, in one fell swoop, in front of a Selected? Outrage filled every crevice of Roy's heart, and he could feel it palpitate in disgust. Heck, Alex's own damn mother was the product of the Selection. If it weren't for Lilly's deafness, Roy wouldn't be surprised if she kicked him in the nuts through the swathes of her dress.

Merrick and Ji-Yu stepped up to them, then. They'd been so engrossed in conversation that they hadn't heard Alex's comments – to Roy's annoyance.

Merrick gestured to the door with a big grin. "Oh, this week will be so fun! Come on, boys. We have prepared your rooms."

Roy's parents ambled off without so much as looking back, taking an entourage of guards with them. Barnabas, with his hair loose and mop-like, pressed his lips together at the sight of Roy, the mirror image of his brother with his hands clasped behind his back – Roy could see something strangled between his fingers.

"Fitz."

This again. Roy grounded his teeth together.

"Barney."

Barney made to hiss, but Alex held out his hand. "Don't bother, Barnabas." He switched his glare to Roy. "A fool never learns from his mistakes."

"Clearly," Barnabas said, not giving Roy the chance to reply – from behind him he produced a rolled-up newspaper, and fanned it open. "I couldn't help but glance over a recent issue of the Illéan Times."

Roy blanched. Oh god, no. What had they cherry-picked from Clarity's articles? He squinted, reading the date. It was from two weeks ago. The fashion show.

That was a paper Roy hadn't bothered to read. He'd witnesses everything himself. Was Barnabas going to complain about the rebels?

Alex leant over to peek, and ended up lifting a hand to his mouth and snorting. He lifted his hand to his mouth to stop himself looking too uncouth.

Barnabas brandished the newspaper. The article wasn't, in fact, about the gunman attack or the rebels. It was about him stumbling onto stage at the fashion show. In the image smattered onto the front page in black-and-white, Roy recognised himself in the white suit, a haphazard grin on his face, his feet unable to walk properly as he propelled onto stage.

"Intoxicated, at your own fashion show?" Alex said, still laughing. "Good god. No wonder no one takes you seriously, Fitz."

Roy stilled – no, he wasn't drunk! He'd barely glanced at a bottle of vodka since being caught at the Salt and Stars by nosy paparazzi. But… why did he look like a drunkard?

Then he remembered. Sherlock's jokes.

He'd been laughing so hard, along with Luna and Riley, at Sherlock's jokes that he nearly missed his cue to make a speech on stage. Riley had shoved him out of the wings, and he'd stumbled. Of course, Clarity would snap a photo.

"I wasn't drunk, I was—" Was there any point? The Twin Princes would twist his words, anyway. He growled. "Not sure if you noticed, but I was attacked on that day."

Barnabas rolled up the newspaper, remaining neutral to the statement. But Alex sneered.

"Then I doubly feel the misfortune of your Selected," he snuck a pitiful glance at Lilly, "that they will be left in your hands."

Without waiting for Roy's response, Alex marched into the door with that despicable smirk plastered all over him. Barney narrowed his eyes at Roy, before following behind his brother. Though Barney was more tolerable than Alex – by a miniscule amount – Roy still felt a nausea pierce through him each time he had the unfortunate displeasure of meeting either of them.

They exited through the bulkhead. Lilly stared at Roy with a neutral expression, waiting for him to react. Roy turned to her and Eulalia, who was shying away from the attention she didn't want from either twin.

"See what I mean?"

Eulalia translated, and Lilly nodded grimly.

How was he supposed to survive a week when he barely survived that one encounter?

=#=#=#=

=#=#=#=

Roy, keeping check on Lilly and Eulalia, led them down the staircase and back to the foyer. Light refreshments were being served in the West Drawing Room, the doors wide for visitors, staff and Selected alike to move freely. The green-shaded sofas and armchairs had been splayed for a more open space to socialise in. The Selected, Roy was grateful to see, were dressed in formal dresses, politely speaking with anyone curious enough to approach them. Most were just talking amongst themselves.

Then, Roy spotted Alex and Barney speaking to a group of Selected girls. Roy's heart crunched inside.

Nope. Roy decided the twins could bag on him all they liked, but could not, under any circumstances, chase after his Selected. Even if Alex thought them 'commoners'.

He led Lilly to Chiara Romani-Carriedo. Her idea of formal attire was a green dress that painted the floor in silk. She straightened ever so slightly, her hands settled around a flute of champagne.

"Chiara," he whispered. Her passion was what attracted Roy to her in the first place – he hoped it wouldn't be for waste. "Can you help me make sure the Twinces don't overstep their mark?"

She smirked. "Leave it to me, Your Highness."

He slipped his arm from Lilly, and turned to her. "Thanks for the date today. I really did have fun, and you do look stunning."

A grimace overtook Lilly, as if she knew as well as Roy did that the appearance of the Windsors had shredded the emotive power of the date into flickering remnants. Still, she nodded, pressing her hands on his and smiling graciously.

"I don't need for her to sign to know she says thank you," said Eulalia, by her side.

Lilly didn't look away, and, grateful, Roy leant forwards and kissed her cheek. A simple peck that still soothed his bubbling anger for the fleeting moments of contact. Sparks leapt from his skin.

He leant back, and a flourishing blush overcame her. This time, she was unable to look at him.

He felt cold walking away. Already, he missed her calming presence and bubbling enthusiasm.

Now, he had to deal with a bigger problem.

Alex and Barney had currently accosted Natasha Barron and Alisa Orlov. Roy marched through the crowd, also spotting Aunt Philippa around a horde of Selected girls, complimenting their dresses. No doubt, the exact opposite of what her sons were doing.

He embraced the conversation before either Alex or Barney could prepare. "Gentlemen," he said, though they were anything but gentle. "Ladies."

Alex, with his arms behind his back still, quirked an eyebrow at him. "I was just speaking with Lady Natasha Barron."

Natasha looked like she was trying hard not to wince. Her blonde hair loose and curling around her chest. Her outfit today accommodated her willowy figure, with a white sheath dress and matching high heels. She pricked a smile.

"Yes. It has been lovely to get to know your cousin, Your Highness," she spoke through grated teeth.

What the heck had Alex been drivelling on about?

As if hearing Roy's thoughts, Alex smirked. "Did you know she has a child?"

Roy's lungs twisted. Natasha had adopted her best friend's child when her best friend had died. He remembered as much from their first meeting. Roy gritted his teeth. "I am quite aware of Lady Natasha's unique circumstances."

"Really?" Alex questioned. His eyes glittered like fresh ice. "I wonder if the royal court is informed."

"Why do they matter?" Roy said snappily.

"Only that Lady Natasha's child would automatically put her out of the running for your hand, is all." He said this so throwaway, as if the Selection were a board game on a Friday night. "At least, it would bring many complications. Don't you agree?"

Roy dropped his act. "Don't be crass, Alex."

"Alexander," he snapped. "Honestly, Fitz. Keeping someone like Lady Natasha in the competition. What is the point? Do you aim to break her hopes even more?"

Roy hadn't had the chance to think on it properly, was the reason. But that, to Alex, would sound lazy. He spared a fleeting glance at Natasha, her blue eyes wide and her fists clenched – he wasn't sure if she was angry at him or Alex – and looked back to Alex.

"That's none of your business."

"I am unfortunately staying for a week, Fitz. Everything shall be my business." He turned sharply on his heel, scanning the crowd for another Selected to prey on, and he half-turned to Barney. "Come, Barnabas."

Barney and Alisa were in conversation so deep he didn't seem to hear Alex at first. Alisa's blonde hair was coiffed into a giant bun, and a curl of her fringe fluttered off her forehead. Her skater dress was white at the chest, too, but with a rainbow skirt, and nude heels.

Then, he saw it – on her cheeks. A blush.

It took much of Roy's willpower not to let his mouth drop open. Barney was deliberately flirting with his Selected.

"May I remind you, Barney," he said in a low voice, "that fraternising with my Selected is considered treason?"

Alex paused and scoffed at the comment. "We would not want your leftovers, thank you."

Natasha growled under her breath, so only Roy could hear. "We wouldn't want you either."

Barney broke away from his intense eye-gaze with Alisa, fixing Roy with an uncaring frown. "I am well aware of the rules of your Selection, Fitz." He turned back to Alisa, his eyes warming like a pool of a Jacuzzi. "I, however, don't pretend not to recognise beauty when I see it."

Without waiting for Roy's response, Barney plucked Alisa's arm from her side, bowed, and kissed the back of her hand.

Something like jealousy and anger burnt through Roy so furious he couldn't thwart his shaking arms, and a stream of swear words pelted his head behind a beleaguering fire. He ended up muttering sharp and fast Korean to expel some of his anger at Barney – luckily, too low for him to hear. Still, Barney rose from his bow and smirked at Roy.

A challenge.

Alex had narrowed his eyes and became still, not quite sure how to interpret the situation, but led the way elsewhere nonetheless, followed by Barney.

Roy swallowed his anger – now was not the time to get annoyed. He couldn't make a mistake. He shoved it into the basket in his mind, and turned to Alisa. "Are you all right?"

She nodded, still flushing. "Yes, yes, I'm fine, thank you, Your Highness. He…" she glanced at Barney's back, "has a way with words."

Damn their silver tongues. Converting and trapping his Selected before they'd even settled into Illéan life, yet.

"Don't fall for them," he said, almost as a command. "What I said, about fraternising outside of the Selection is true for both parties." He cast a gloomy frown. "I don't want to anyone caught in a scandal."

Alisa straightened. "O-Of course! He was just trying to rile you," she piped. "I-I wouldn't… I'd never…"

Natasha rested a hand on her arm, but her eyes were storming with feelings. "It's all right, Alisa. We'll look out for each other. Besides," she gave Roy a guilty smile, "that Alex is horrible."

At least someone agreed with him. His parents seemed to think them angels. He grinned.

"You're all right, too?"

"I'm made of stronger stuff than whatever he tried to rattle me with," she said, with a determined smile.

Still, Roy couldn't help but think – what would the royal court say if they heard about Natasha's adopted daughter?

Deciding to address the issue after the reception, he smiled. "All right, then. If they try to bother you again, find Chiara or me. We'll sort them out."

Alisa giggled, and Natasha grinned.

"I have no doubt that Chiara will set them straight."

Roy half-turned to look at the twins – now, they had cornered poor Vanessa Hardy and Elise Belmont, but Elise looked as if she were handling them with her excitement. He also spotted Chiara edging the crowd with her angry eyes fixated on them. If they pulled anything funny, she was ready to pounce. They both were.

He bit down a sigh. This would have to happen for the rest of the week – him being on his guard.

The Bonfire Ball tonight was going to be interesting, indeed.

=#=#=#=

=#=#=#=

Hours before the Bonfire Ball was to happen, Roy found himself pacing towards Natasha's room. The conversation today had turned ugly, and he, quite frankly, couldn't stomach that Natasha would be on the receiving end Alex's sharp commentary for a whole week.

The royal court was filled with old traditionals and staunch elderly. The prospect of an outside child didn't equate to their idea of an easy Selection. The rules were about blood relatives, but an adoptive daughter from another person, not even his wife, if Natasha were to be the One, would certainly bring into question about inheritance. No way did Roy like the idea of a usurping from his children.

He hated to admit that Alex was most likely right, that Natasha's child would bring complications to the throne, no matter which way he tried to spin it. Thinking on it, he hadn't felt an immediate connection to Natasha as he did some of the others, like Avianna or Lilly.

Perhaps it was for the best that she left.

That was what he told himself repeatedly as he approached her door. Dismissing the guards, he knocked, and rocked on his heels. His heart was doing that stupid thudding again, in anticipation of breaking someone's happiness into shards.

Natasha's maid opened the door, and curtsied.

"May I speak with Lady Natasha, please?" Roy said. "Alone?"

The maid clarified this with Natasha, and left in a scamper, with two others following behind.

"Come in, Your Highness," said Natasha.

He did, shutting the door behind him. Natasha's room was adorned with tons of photographs, strung on the walls on yarn, or framed on her bedside tables. Many were of her and her adopted child, with a different shade of blonde hair and blue eyes, and they both grinned as if the world owed them nothing, and they owed nothing to the world. Guilt ate into Roy like worms with what he was about to do.

Natasha herself was seated at her vanity table, a cream caking her face and cucumbers shrouding her eyes. She stood and sketched a wobbly curtsy in her dressing gown, facing the wrong direction.

"Er, sorry, Your Highness," she said with a sheepish laugh. "I'm just getting my face done."

"Call me Roy. And don't worry about it. It's actually pretty funny. Also," Roy stifled a smirk, "I'm over here."

She turned, laughing still, and plucked the cucumbers from her eyes. Her eyes seemed to shine a brighter colour – then, in the seconds of silence that fell, her smile turned into self-pity.

"This is about earlier, isn't it? The conversation with Prince Alexander?"

Roy felt the words stick in his throat again. "Yes."

She nodded, sitting down in her chair and facing the vanity's mirror. It, too, was festooned with pictures of the girl. Roy felt terrible that he couldn't even remember her name, and he ended up sitting on the trunk at the foot of Natasha's bed.

"She's very beautiful," he whispered.

Natasha stilled. "Yes, she is," she whispered back. "Just like her parents."

"Would you remind me…?"

Natasha turned and smiled. "Amber," she said. "Amber Adele Kadinsky."

Roy gently pried a photo tacked onto her bedposts. Natasha and little Amber were at a modelling studio – he could tell with the make-up stations in the background – and Natasha appeared to be in some sort of avant-garde outfit for a photoshoot. Evidently, they had time to snap a picture together. Amber looked young, perhaps four or five years old, and some of her baby teeth had fallen out, leaving gaps in her toothy grin.

Pity washed over Roy. How horrible it must have been to have her parents killed in a car crash. But a blessing that Natasha was willing to take her under her wing and raise her as her own.

In royalty, this would never cement, he knew.

He replaced the photo. "I'm sorry, but… Alex was right. The royal court would have a fit about inheritance."

"I figured as much," Natasha whispered, clasping her hands over her lap. "I've done some research into royal politics myself, and… the odds didn't look good…" She frowned at him. "Would it… really bring complications?"

Roy felt like he might as well slap her. "Yes. It would be more trouble to both you and me than it would be worth, really." He widened his eyes. "Not that Amber is trouble, but—"

She held up a hand. "No, no. I understand."

He grinned. "I won't even bother asking if you would give her up."

"Good," she said, her chest inflating with pride. "I wouldn't. Not for all the jewels in the world."

Or a crown.

Her intentions were pure. A spy would have come into this competition to make themselves as available as possible, as adoring and desirable so Roy could fall into lull with them – but a child from another couple was the total opposite of that.

He came to stand. "Then I suppose I should just come out and say that I have to eliminate you."

The world stilled, and for a moment, Natasha said nothing, but a smile rose on her face.

"Well, it was worth it."

"Did you enter for Amber?"

Natasha cringed suddenly, tilting her head back and forth. "Yes, and no. I suppose it was more of a selfish reason…" She drew in breath. "It was so I could escape an arranged marriage."

Roy choked. They still existed? "An arranged marriage?!"

She grimaced. "Yeah, I know. Gross, right?" She shivered. "The man my mother had set me up with hated children, too, and he threatened to throw Amber out if I became his wife. The Selection was an easier option for both of us."

Roy vaguely recalled that Natasha's mother was also a famous actress, her golden days passed when Ji-Yu was younger and Roy wasn't even born yet. Roy felt cold ride through his suit. "That man sounds like a nightmare." He paused. "If you go back now, will your mother…?" He steeled. "Because if she does, you and Amber are welcome to stay here for as long as you need."

She bowed her head. "Thank you, that's very kind. I think… I hope," she said, "that my mother won't force it upon me any longer."

"You're too high profile now," Roy said, adding a smirk. "Not that you weren't before."

"It's true. I think." She laughed suddenly. "Can I stay for the Bonfire Ball, at least? I did have cucumbers prepared just for this."

He ended up chuckling, too. "Yeah, that's fine. You can stay for the Ball, but, perhaps but tomorrow morning, you should take your leave." He smiled. "I'm sure Amber will be happy to see you."

Natasha nodded. "She will."

Roy was just glad that this elimination hadn't gone as haywire as Torrence's. Then again, he didn't think anything could top her dramatic reaction.

He made for the door. "Well, if you are forced into another arranged marriage, contact me, and you can have sanctum here. Heck," he smirked, remembering his attempts to set Rudy up with someone, "maybe you'll find a hot guard that digs kids and you."

Natasha laughed loudly, leaning on the back of her chair. "Well, we'll see." She settled. "You ought to go get ready for the Bonfire Ball, though. And so must I."

He nodded, giving her a lazy salute. "What are you dressing up as?"

She grinned. "Cinderella."

"Nice."

"You?"

Roy beamed something sneaky. "You'll see…"

Natasha cocked an eyebrow. "I hope it's better than whatever those twins are wearing."

Roy intended for it to be. It was going to be so Halloween that they would just bow to his sheer Halloweenness.

He chuckled. "See you there."

"See you there," she grinned, "Roy."

And with that, he left Natasha Barron's room for the last time.

=#=#=#=#=#=#=

=#=#=#=#=#=#=

A/N: Anticipation builds! Hope you enjoyed this chapter!

So I forgot to mention this last chapter, but thanks to Neon Lions for Torrence! Probably one of my favourite Selected girls, but I didn't think she'd get very far with her attitude D: Also thanks to Natasha's creator, Cookiedoodles168! I didn't think her child would get her very far either, but at least she's still on friendly terms with Roy, lol.

What do you all think of Alex and Barney? I'll bet you have some... choice words to say... :P

So I also have some regrettable news. I had my uni induction week this week, and it was the equivalent of death. I'm worried that I'll either neglect my studies or neglect this fanfiction, and since I'd like to do neither, I've pushed back chapter releases to a weekly update again. I'm so sorry I've had to do this, especially after I just moved it to five days. I thought I could manage, but uni kind of bitch-slapped me. However, I know you'd all rather quality over speed, and I think this is the best way to achieve that. Thanks for your patience!

And thank you all for your continued and wonderful support! I really mean it, I do love reading your reviews and reactions, and seeing favourites and follows. It makes my day knowing someone is still reading and enjoying.

~ GWA

NTT: "Excuse me, but I am a remorseless assassin that kills for fun and strikes fear into the living."