I will now begin to post the Interlude between each "regular" chapter. So after Interlude I, there's chapter 38 and then Interlude II, chapter 39 and so on. So, you'll get to know what happens to Liz, not in this post, but in the next... The interlude is a story on its own and it will, hopefully, provide you with some answers to all of your questions.

 



INTERLUDE I

Aliandra sighed deeply. Her big dark eyes shifted with sadness as she looked out the big windows.
"What is the matter?"
Without turning her head, she answered, "Why me?"
She could practically feel the frown settle over her best friend's smooth forehead. "Whatever do you mean?"
Another sigh escaped her. "It is...everything. Everything that I cannot experience."
"Are you talking about the ball?"
"The ball, the endless number of dinners, the smiling, the politeness, the never-ending stream of suitors-"
"Your mind must really be in a fragile state if you are complaining about the suitors. They are the most pleasant part-"
"No, they are not. I never considered them to be. You did. It is you, Soria, that has always taken a keen interest in my life and all events surrounding it. You are the one who has taken most pleasure from it."

"You should be grateful that you have been blessed with this life. Would you rather have been one of those servants who wash the floor? Or one of those girls being sold off to slavery?"
"Of course not." She closed her eyes and leaned her forehead against the cool windowpane. No one understood her. Not even the one person she considered to be her best friend.
"It was not my intention to sound like a spoiled child-"
"Well, you did. I would gladly be you any day of the week. I mean, being waited on. Having handsome men obey my every command with merely a movement of my finger, having my hair..."

But Aliandra wasn't listening any longer. A plan had begun to take form in her head. Her forehead lifted from the windowpane and she silently observed Soria, who was completely oblivious to the fact that she was being watched. Her hands were moving in the air, emphasizing whatever was coming out of her mouth. A slow smile started to spread over Aliandra's lips as her eyes moved over Soria's face. It had often occurred to her how much alike they were. They had the same eyes, the same nose. They weren't related, yet the similarities were difficult to disregard. It was what was on the inside that created the largest difference. Their personalities were as different as night and day. But in a world focused on beauty, that wouldn't be a problem.
"Soria," Aliandra began, amusement in her voice as her friend continued to talk. "Soria!"
Soria instantly stopped talking at the authority in Aliandra's voice, which was rarely used.
"Yes?"
The corners of Aliandra's mouth began to twitch with the knowledge of what she was going to tell Soria. "How would you like to be princess for a day?"

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The market was crammed with people of all different shapes and forms. People were talking and laughing. Offers of cheap prices were being screamed over her head as she made her way through the market place. She felt the warmth of the rays of the third sun cascading on her back. She felt the wind blowing in her hair. She loved the feeling she got by wearing her hair down. How carefree it was blowing around her face. No pins to hold it back. No ribbons to hold it strictly in place. Free. Just like she was, at least for today. A smile spread itself over her face as the poignant smell of fresh fish reached her nose, to in the next second be replaced by the smell of fresh-baked bread. Who would ever want to give this up? The people around her didn't wear any jewelry and their clothes were worn, having been washed and reused a million times. But nothing could buy that smile on their faces. That energy. That freedom.

She was so engrossed in her thoughts that she didn't notice a man balancing a plank on his shoulder, backing out between two booths, and her head hit the hard surface of the wood. She cried out in pain and staggered on her feet as the pain clouded her senses, making the world spin around her.
"Oh my! Miss, are you all right?"
She closed her eyes, trying to stop the spinning. "Yes, I'm fine," she whispered.
"Let me help you," she heard the man say and she felt his hand on her arm.
"I'm fine, thank you," she said, and as if to prove it to herself and to the man that she was, in fact, fine, she opened her eyes and found herself falling into a pair of the most enthralling eyes she had ever seen.
Her legs crumbled under her and she would have hit the ground if his hands hadn't stopped her fall.
"Is she okay?" an elderly sounding voice asked.
"I don't think so, father," the younger man answered. "Miss? Can you hear me?"
"My head...my head hurts," she murmured. Black spots were dancing behind her closed eyelids and she vaguely heard his voice saying that he was going to take her home before darkness devoured her.

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He couldn't deny that she reminded him of the princess. However, her clothes weren't expensive and she didn't wear any jewelry. Her hair was let down, softly resting against the pillow. She was beautiful. He had watched the princess since he was old enough to find girls of any interest and it had been something in her eyes that had spoken to him. Maybe it was the gentleness, the care, or maybe it was the sadness. But she was unreachable. Something he couldn't have. Something prohibited. He was in the military. He had just been assigned to the guard squad at the palace, protecting the princess. Being with a girl like her was just an unattainable dream. It could never be. But this girl, the girl he had carried home from the market after having hit her head on one of his father's planks, she was something else. She was incredibly beautiful. So much like the princess. And she was one of his people. She was one of his own kind.

His eyes were pulled to her face as she coughed.
"Miss?"
She slowly opened her eyes. "What happened? Where am I?" There was a flash of panic in her eyes, before her eyes met his.

Her eyes. She had the most incredible eyes. They reminded him so much of someone.
"You are at my house. You fainted and I didn't know where you lived. So, I took you home."
Maybe he shouldn't have brought her home. She was probably afraid to be in a strange man's house. He caught her eyes and the intense way she was looking at him made his breath catch in his throat. He dropped his eyes to her small hands resting on top of the covers and said softly, "I'm Zan."
Aliandra cleared her throat and tried to rid her head of the dizzying clouds. She wasn't Aliandra today. She was just a normal person today.
"I'm Soria," she answered, giving her friend's name, "Thank you, Zan, for helping me, but I feel fine now. I should probably go home. My parents must be worrying."
She slowly rose from the bed and the room spun around her. She closed her eyes in an effort to stop the spinning, she felt his warm hand close around her upper arm, and a calmness floated into her, stilling the spinning. For a hazy second she wondered if he had healing powers. But, with a shake of her head, she cleared her mind of such thoughts. The healers had died out several decades ago. There was no one left.

She opened her eyes and smiled at him. "Thank you," she said again and he released her arm, holding one hand in the air behind her back, prepared to catch her if she fell.
"Shall I show you the way back to the market?" Zan asked.
Aliandra cast a glance out the window and saw the market a couple of houses further down the street. "No, I'll be fine."
She sneaked a peek at the tall dark-haired man. There was something about him that made her heart beat faster. Beat uncontrollably in her chest. And she suspected that the sudden dizziness wasn't due to the head injury she had suffered.
"Will I see you again?"
Aliandra looked up into his eyes and nodded slowly, his gaze pulling her in. "It is very plausible."
He smiled. One of those smiles that reaches the eyes and make them shine with an almost unnatural glow.
"I'm looking forward to it," he said softly. "Goodbye, Soria."
Aliandra smiled. "Goodbye, Zan. It was nice meeting you."
But it wasn't the last time they would meet. No, this was only the beginning.

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"Ouch, what is that?" Soria asked, grimacing in sympathy at the lump that had begun to form on Aliandra's forehead.
"I bumped into something," Aliandra answered, somewhat evasively.
"You bumped into something?" Soria repeated curiously.
"Yes," Aliandra answered.
Soria stared at her. "That's it? You are not going to disclose any more information about your day than that?"
"How was your day? I know that you are dying to tell me. I'm actually a little surprised that you haven't told me anything yet."
"It couldn't be any better! I don't know what you are complaining about, Ali, your life is wonderful and after today I envy you even more."
"Tell me what happened," Aliandra smiled, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. Soria was already so deep into retelling about her day as a princess at the palace that she didn't notice Aliandra's satisfied smile at having managed to divert Soria's thoughts away from what had happened to Aliandra. She knew that she had to tell Soria soon, but for now, she was off the hook.

She couldn't stop thinking about that boy. Zan. There was something about him. It was as if he had reached deep inside her soul and coaxed it into life. There was something warm and gentle about him. Something intriguing.

"Londrì Aliandra, His Majesty is requesting your presence."
Soria and Aliandra turned towards the door. Aliandra could feel her heart starting to beat erratically in her chest as she got up and followed the servant. Why did her father want to see her? He barely spent any time with her. Had he somehow figured out that it had been Soria and not her that had been at the palace, acting as the princess the whole day? She walked down the long and wide staircase, winding down into the large hallways, the servant guiding the way towards her father's office.

Aliandra barely knew her father. He was always in meetings and had been for as long as she could remember. The only contact they had was when he was reprimanding her for doing something wrong. That was why she didn't really have the best hopes when she got closer to her father's office.
"Aliandra," her father said as he looked up from his papers.
"Father," Aliandra said curtly and sat down in front of her father.
"I will get right to the point. You are now reaching a mature age and as you've been taught, we will soon find you a suitable husband and you will get married."
Aliandra swallowed and inwardly sighed deeply. There was no way she could stop it from happening. Her father would marry her off to someone she didn't know, as long as he was of royal blood. Her people had been doing it for ages. No one ever married for love any more. It was something meant for the lower class, the peasants. The royal family was pure blood and it wasn't to be dirtied with the blood of the lower class. Aliandra frowned at her own thoughts. Why was she thinking about making her blood dirty with the lower class? His face sprang up in front of her eyes. She had only met him once and already he had her thinking about marrying someone from the lower class.

She shook her head to clear it from the thoughts. It wasn't because of him. She had always found the lower class mesmerizing. It was just because it was something unobtainable. Something she could never have. Freedom. Free will. Just the simple fact that you didn't have to tell anyone where you were going, that you were able to go anywhere you wanted without anyone caring sounded wonderful.
"Aliandra? Are you listening to me?"
"Yes, father," Aliandra lied and chastised herself for not paying attention.
"As I was saying, your maturity also calls for a higher security, so I've arranged for more protectors who are going to follow you everywhere you go."
Aliandra cringed at his words. As if she wasn't already living in a prison. "Everywhere, father?"
Her father nodded, and answered casually, "Of course, Aliandra. Kwadri will introduce you to the new protectors."

And with a nod she was dismissed. Aliandra forced back the tears as she stood up from the chair. She felt as if she were drowning. As if they were suffocating her. If she didn't get air soon she would pass out.
"I need to go out," she told her father's advisor.
"Londrì Aliandra, your father ordered you to meet with the protectors."
"I don't care what my father ordered," Aliandra spit out and brushed past the advisor. Her face was downcast to hide the tears that were threatening to fall, so she didn't see the person standing in her way until she rammed straight into him.
"Princess Londrì Aliandra?"
She was just about to continue her walk when his voice caught her focus. Her voice dropped to a whisper as she asked, "Zan?"
There was a pause and she realized the mistake she had made. Princess Aliandra had not met Zan. Soria had.
"I'm sorry," she murmured and pushed him away.
As her legs carried her down the vast green grass carpet, her thoughts were churning fervently in her head. What was Zan doing at the palace?

TBC…