I apologize ahead of time if any of my information about sword-fighting is incorrect. I took a sword class once, but that was years ago.

Mason and Shelby exchanged looks, instantly suspicious.

"You know that he could very well be lying," Mason said quickly. "What makes you think we can trust him after all he's done?"

"He could be trying to trick us into going through a wild goose chase," Shelby added.

"But what would be the motive behind that?" Horace asked. "Making us look for someone that doesn't exists doesn't help him in the least."

"He could be trying to divert our attention," Gavin put in. "Maybe while we were off looking, he would pull some kind of trap."

"Creating a diversion of sorts," Abigail mused.

"Yes, but we wouldn't leave the castle unattended," Cassandra said. "We wouldn't be so distressed that we send everyone." All of the teens sat back, agreeing with the argument. The queen took a deep breath, and rested her head back on her chair, and closed her eyes. She massaged her temples, as if trying to rub the stress away. Everyone else at the table stayed silent. Shelby was turning over the information in her head, running through a list of never ending possibilities. She saw Mason looking at her everyone once and awhile, as if he knew how much the situation bothered her. Once, she caught his eye, and he smiled sympathetically. She shrugged, a little disappointed. In full honesty, she was more upset than she let on. She had hoped that after the last 'culprit' was caught, maybe, just maybe, she could live a quiet and careful life. But of course, that wasn't meant to be. She knew when she accepted the job as lady-in-waiting that she was expected to always be on watch, and ready to do whatever was commanded. Her fidelity was substantial. Yet there was a part of her that wanted to follow what her parents had always done. They were still under the laws of the land, yes, but they were more free. They traveled endlessly, and ever since Shelby returned from Nihon-Ja, her dreams had unrelentingly been about her experience and the sea. She vehemently tried to keep thoughts of leaving from her mind, and whenever she caught sight over Mason, she reminded herself why she stayed. With a flush, she quickly added Abigail as one of the reasons she remained. She tried to tell herself it wasn't all that bad that she was so attached to the prince. He had trusted her enough to tell her of his own short comings, and also his dreams as well. Ever since she met him, Shelby had just immediately felt like they had a mutual skill; survival. They were both strong-spirited, and shared where their loyalties laid. They both were strong, both physically, and mentally, and both of them were quick witted. For some reason, Shelby thought of those things then, and she found herself still looking at Mason. He kept his steady gaze on her as well, but wore a slightly puzzled expression. Quickly, Shelby looked out the window, and hoped the flush had disappeared from her soft features. She found it a little strange that she had got attached to him so fast. There was just something about the way he looked at things reminded Shelby of herself, which gave her a way to relate. Not to mention his green eyes, his perpetually wind-blown hair, and his strong features that held power and strength, but when he looked at Shelby, she also saw gentleness, and the ability to yield. For some reason, she continually thought of this as she sat at the table. Silent defeat reflected on the faces of all the other people in the room, and they finished their dinner in silence.

After the evening meal, Shelby dejectedly went back to her room. Figuring that some fresh air would do her some good, she stepped out onto her balcony. She had never used it before, and had almost forgot it was there. It was lightly furnished, with two armchairs that could take Araluen's unpredictable weather, and a birdbath at the far right corner. Shelby walked to the balustrade, and leaned on it for support. She let out a huge sigh, one she had been holding since the dinner table. The view from her balcony was stunning, but Shelby was too distracted to really take it in. She hoped that she was just making a big deal about something that would turn out to be simple, but she had this sad intuition that it wouldn't be. She sucked in another breath of fresh air. She heard a rap on wood, and turned. Mason stood in the doorway to her balcony. He lowered his head a little in a sign of acknowledgment.

"Sorry about barging in," he said. "But you didn't answer the door." Shelby nodded once.

"It's alright," she said and turned back to the forest that spread beneath her.

"I guess we had the same idea," Mason said, taking a few paces to stand next to her. "Fresh air is good for thinking." Shelby nodded absently. After a few moments of silence, Shelby was vaguely aware of Mason studying her closely. She could see his shining eyes in the peripheral of her vision. Eventually, she turned to him.

"What is it?" she asked.

"What are you thinking?" the prince asked softly. Shelby smiled thinly at his gentle concern.

"I just..." She shrugged. "I wonder what's going to happen next. I thought we had everything figured out, but it seems like I'm always wrong."

"I thought so too," Mason said carefully, and not for the first time, his tone seemed to be hinting at something else. "But perhaps this isn't the end. Maybe it will be a quick fix." Shelby's gut feeling pulled at her again.

"I don't think it will be though," Shelby said a little too quickly. Mason raised an eyebrow at her, and she hurried to continue. "I mean, you know what happened last time. It required me and Abigail to leave the country. It took several months to find a fake. What happens if it takes just as long, if not longer?" Shelby bit her lip. Something else was worrying her, but she was afraid to mention it.

"Go on," Mason said. He had obviously seen her expression.

"I'm afraid," Shelby whispered. She hadn't meant to cry, but telling Mason everything made feel her reassured, but sad. "I'm afraid something will happen to the people I love. I'm afraid of being sent away from them again, where I couldn't help if I was needed. I'm afraid of being caged in." She closed her eyes, but it didn't stop the tears. Mason's face softened. He pulled her close to him, and held her while she cried.

"It's alright," he whispered in her ear, his warm breath against her neck. "Being afraid is to be human." Shelby tried to tell him she agreed, but it just came out as a mumble. Mason stroked her hair, and she shivered at his gentle touch. "I'm afraid too," he told her. "I worry about my family. And those I love." There it was again. That tone that made Shelby wonder what was going on in his head.

"Don't they count?" she asked quietly. Mason let out a low laugh.

"I suppose so," he said. Shelby knew that he meant more behind his words, but she didn't pester him. For the longest time, they just stood there, entangled in each other, in thoughts as well as physically. Having each other as reassurance gave them both comfort. A few nocturnal birds flew by them ocasionally, and the distant sound of bugs chirping echoed in the night sky. Eventually, Mason held Shelby out at an arm's length. "As far as I know," he said, "Gavin still intends on giving you a sword-fighting lesson tomorrow. You might want some rest." Shelby nodded sleepily. She wasn't just physically exhausted, but her brain was so fizzy with the day's events, she felt like it might explode. Sleep was definitely a good option. "Try to get some sleep, alright?" At her skeptic look, he smiled at her. "Don't worry about it," he said, referring to the issue with the resistance. "It'll be okay." Shelby wished she could believe that. But the thing was, she didn't. Mason kissed her forehead, and her skin tingled. "Good night," he told her, and disappeared.

Shelby woke up the next morning feeling better than she had all week, which wasn't saying much, but it was an improvement. She hurried to dress herself, and tied up her hair to keep it out of the way. Today was her first sword-fighting lesson, and she didn't want something silly like her hair to get in the way. Gavin hadn't given Shelby a time that he would meet her in the courtyard, but she figured she would find him first, and then they would decide. After having a quick breakfast by herself, Shelby went to go check on Abigail, who was still sleeping. She wrote a note to the princess, telling her where she was, and then headed outside. Not surprisingly, Gavin was already outside, cutting his sword through open air.

"Good morning," she said. Gavin turned around, not even a little surprised at her sudden appearance. He bowed slightly.

"Good morning, Lady Shelby," he said formally, but his eyes twinkled mischievously. Shelby smiled at him, and he returned the gesture. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder as a friendly greeting. "Sleep well?" he asked. Shelby nodded.

"You?" she asked. Gavin shrugged, and his arm slipped off her shoulders. Shelby raised an eyebrow. "Trouble sleeping?" she asked. Again, he shrugged.

"I think it's because of this situation," he said gravely. "I worry too much."

"There's no such thing as being too careful. Don't worry too much." Since she had Mason's support, Shelby felt a lot more confident helping others. Gavin sighed.

"I'll try," he promised. Honestly, Shelby felt a little silly being support for the older boy, since she held him in such high respect, and he never really seemed like the iffy type. But she talked anyway. "So today," Gavin started again, more confident this time. "I'll teach you basic moves and techniques." Shelby nodded. She agreed it was definitely best to start there, hence her skills in sword-fighting were roughly 0. "So, obviously, you know how to swing a sword. You demonstrated that last session. Er, if you could call that a session." Shelby smiled at his continual running mind. Gavin shook his head. "Anyway," he continued, still swinging his sword around. "Sword-fighting is fun, but it requires a tremendous amount of practice to get it right. I have been working with a sword for almost eight years and am still far from perfect." Shelby nodded. She had watched people sword-fight before. It didn't look easy, and she didn't expect it to be either. Gavin snatched a spare sheath from one of the benches in the corner of the courtyard, and handed it to Shelby. She gripped it tightly, and pulled the sword out of its sheath. The ring of steel against steel gave her goosebumps.

"Now this, is a training sword." Gavin pointed as he explained. "It's not as heavy as a standard sword, but it is balanced right, and it is perfect for practice." He touched the tip with his finger. "It's also blunt." Shelby smiled as she saw the wisdom in this. Having only actually held a sword once, Shelby wasn't sure it would be a great idea for her to be swinging around a lethal weapon just yet. Gavin smiled with her. He unsheathed his identical sword and showed it to her. "For practice, I'm using a training sword too. But, this," he said, picking up another sheath, "is my standard sword." With little effort, Gavin pulled the sword out. Shelby studied the blade. It was engraved with some characters she didn't understand, but it certainly looked impressive. The grip was leather bound for a good grip. Gavin turned the handle in Shelby's direction, offering it to her. A little uncertainly, she gripped the hold, and Gavin let go. Almost immediately, Shelby nearly hit the ground. The sword was extremely heavy. It pulled her arm down, as if magnetically attracted to the ground. "Told you," Gavin said lightly. Shelby laughed darkly.

"And you weren't kidding," she said. It was hard enough to simply hold; she couldn't imagine having to swing it around. Gavin accepted the sword when she handed it back. It sorted of annoyed Shelby how easily he wielded it. Gavin resheathed it, then tossed it back on the bench.

"Anyways," he said again. "I guess I'll teach you some general rules first." He stepped a few feet back. "First, the best thing to do is keep on your feet. Now, this might seem obvious, but if your opponent knocks you to the ground, they have the upper hand, and it might just be the death of you. Also, to keep your reflexes going, when you're not swinging your sword, keeping moving. If you have to circle, or just balance on your toes, it's best if you stay in motion." Shelby saw the sense in his advice. "Also, try to push your opponent back as far as possible. If you're fighting them against a wall, try to push them towards it. If you close them in against the wall, they'll have no room to move, and you win." She nodded, filing all the teaching in her head. "Okay," Gavin continued. "There aren't many ground steps, and the existent ones, I just taught you. So let's get into it." He motioned for Shelby to take out her sword, and she did. "Try to put as much force as you possibly can behind your blows," Gavin told her. "But also be ready to jump out of the way as fast as possible. In most cases, you're going to basically be spinning, lunging, jabbing, and jumping. You're not really going be doing the stereo-typical heroic fighting that people like to imagine. Sword-fighting and wars aren't nearly as glamorous as they sound."

"I'll take your word for it," Shelby said.

"There are several different terms in sword-fighting, but I'm not really going to get deep into them. There's arcs," he explained, as he swung his sword around. "Jabs, feints, upper and down cuts, and blah blah blah." Shelby laughed. Gavin knew how to make sort of boring lessons entertaining. Shelby took note of the way the he swung his sword as he named the kinds of swings, and took mental pictures. Eventually, he taught her how to hold a sword correctly, how and how not to swing it, and what sort of posture to hold while sword-fighting. By the time they were finished two hours later, Shelby was drenched in sweat and exhausted. It was midday, so they decided to go inside for lunch.

Being sweaty, and probably not smelling too wonderful, Shelby decided to clean up before going to lunch. Gavin told her he'd meet her in the dining hall, and they parted ways. Shelby washed off, and changed into a clean dress. She hurried to reach the dining hall, not wanting to be rudely late. As it turned out, she ran into Gavin just outside the door.

"Hey," he said simply. Shelby nodded once as a greeting. Gavin pushed the door open, and motioned for her to go in first, so she did. What she saw surprised her a little. A tall man stood in the center of the room with the royal family, and they all wore concerned expressions. Immediately, Shelby knew something had to be amiss. At the sound of her and Gavin coming in, the man stopped speaking, and looked up, the royal family quickly following.

"Shelby," Cassandra said, her voice holding a tone that Shelby couldn't quite place. She looked at Mason, her expression demanding an explanation. Abigail looked horrified.

"What's going on?" Shelby asked. She didn't mean to sound rude or anything, but they were all sort of staring at her.

"We have news of another uprising," Cassandra said carefully.

"But this time, they have taken control of the fief," Horace said. Shelby's mouth fell open.

"A whole fief?" she repeated in disbelief. Horace nodded regretfully. Shelby blinked a few times. Then a thought occurred to her. "Which fief?" she asked, her voice sounding ominous in the large hall. The royal family was trying their hardest not to meet her eyes. The man took it they weren't going to tell her, so he answered.

"Redmont Fief," he said.

Sorry about the cliffhanger guys. It just seemed the best place to end it. Anyways, I am well ahead on my story; I almost have another chapter done already. I'm hoping I can write like a crazy person and get my story done. Anyways, see you next week.