My friends, hello! First of all, I'm SO sorry this update has taken so long. As you know, my uncle suddenly passed away very suddenly in the middle of writing this and I had to attend the funeral. Then summer started and my summer, while very fun, was absolutely insane. I was so busy with camping and other activities that I hardly had time to write. And then I started school again, and I am in the school play! It's very exciting and so much fun, but it's made me like 10x busier than usual and a lot more exhausted XD

But I digress. Thank you all so much for being patient with me, and for your comforting words regarding my uncle's passing. I plan on updating this chapter more often and finishing it within the next few months (I can't believe I'm in the home stretch of it!). Love you all, and thank you for you continual support and love 3

TW: this chapter contains brief mention of physical abuse.

Disclaimer: I do not own FFVII.

"What do you make of this mystery girl?" the Professor asked, knowing fully well it would make Scarlet upset.

Scarlet let out an angry huff. "She isn't going to cut it. Besides, the King and his son will both be -"

Professor Hojo put a finger to his lips. "Careful, now. Wouldn't want anyone eavesdropping, would we?"

Considering that the two of them were deep in the bowels of the castle, it was a silly thing to suggest. Still, Scarlet closed her mouth. One couldn't be too careful, after all.

"As you were about to so carelessly say," Hojo continued, pacing around the empty room, "the King and his son will both be gone soon enough. The question is how. Our technique isn't working quickly enough."

"That's not my problem," Scarlet said lightly. "You were the one who came up with the degradation formula."

Hojo paused in his pacing, surveying Scarlet with his dark, beady eyes. "True as that may be, you are just as much a part of it as I am." He took a few steps towards her. "Your end of the bargain has been kept, but that doesn't mean mine needs to -"

"That was the deal," Scarlet interrupted sharply. "You get me the throne and I give you the girl."

Hojo wagged a finger in mock sternness. "You're forgetting the bigger picture, my dear. The deal wasthat you and I join forces once we get the throne."

"I recall no such thing," Scarlet snapped.

"Oh, I'm sure you will," Hojo answered passively. "I'll help you remember if need be."

Scarlet bit her tongue. The hidden harshness of Hojo's voice warned her that further arguing would be pointless. "And as for Aerith?"

"That," said Hojo, in a much colder tone of voice, "is none of your concern. Let's just say," he added, seeing the look of disgust on Scarlet's face, "she will be the progenitor of a new generation."

Unbeknownst to them, a pair of amber eyes watched them from the grate in the floor.

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"So," King Angeal said at breakfast that same morning, "I didn't have a chance to meet her last night."

"Uh..." Zack swallowed his bite of egg. "She had to go unexpectedly."

King Angeal's hands trembled slightly as he raised his own fork to his mouth. "She caused a bit of a stir. It was quite a dramatic exit."

"Sorry," Zack said, a sheepish grin coming onto his face. "the two of us were talking for so long that we lost track of time."

"Still," the King replied, "I wish I could have met her myself."

"You will, Father. I'll bring her here as soon as I can."

King Angeal smiled before going back to his breakfast. Zack watched in slight concern as his father's hands shook violently while picking up his goblet. "Here," Zack reached across the table and held the goblet in front of his father's mouth. "Let me help you."

Angeal took a few sips. "Thank you, Zack."

"No problem."

For the next few minutes there was only the sound of cutlery against plates. After taking a few more bites of egg Zack uttered what had been on his mind all morning.

"Father...there's something I wish to tell you."

Zack supposed that his tone of voice must have been more serious than he thought, for his father gave him a look of concern. "Of course, Zack. Is something wrong?"

Zack gripped his fork more tightly in his hand. "Well...the girl I met last night...she's in a bit of trouble."

The King's eyes narrowed slightly. "What kind of trouble?"

"Nothing what you're thinking," Zack added quickly. "she's not running from the law or anything like that. She's just...in a bad situation." After a pause he added, "Very bad."

"Is it her home life?" Angeal asked, his attention now fully on Zack.

What Aerith had told him only hours ago still seemed too horrible to utter aloud. The thought of Aerith back at her home today with that sorry excuse for a guardian sent chills up Zack's spine. If she had not left so abruptly, Zack would have prepared a guest room at the Palace for her immediately. But the look on Aerith's face once she realized how late it was, and her pleadings for Zack to trust her made him accept her decision.

Zack briefly glanced around. It was just the two of them in the dining hall, but the doors were wide open. Zack quickly stood up and walked to one of the servants standing just outside the door. "Could you please get Duke Tuesti for me? It's urgent." The servant took off without another word. One she had left, Zack shut the doors.

A few minutes later, a knock echoed on the door. Zack quickly opened it and ushered Duke Tuesti inside. "I heard it was urgent," the Duke said, his brow furrowed. "What's going on?"

Zack gestured for him to have a seat. "I'll explain everything to you and father in a moment."

Seeing their looks of concern and alarm, Zack took a deep breath. "I wanted to talk to both of you about something really important."

At their nods, Zack began to repeat the words that Aerith told him the night before. Not wanting to spare any details, he also explained the times he saw Aerith injured or afraid. It was much harder to talk about than he realized; repulsion at Scarlet and sorrow for Aerith tore at his heart. His feelings only deepened when he saw the color drain from his father's face.

The strangest part, however, was that Reeve did not seem completely surprised.

"So I asked her about her guardian," Zack said, "and she mentioned it was a woman named Scarlet."

The King took in a sharp breath. "You don't mean..."

Zack nodded. "I'm pretty sure. Aerith said that Scarlet comes to the castle often to attend meetings. They have to be the same person. Besides, how many people are named Scarlet?"

There was a moment of silence, then Duke Tuesti finally spoke up. "Your Majesty," he turned to the King, his face grave. "I know your son is not one to lie, but I can assure you that he is telling the truth."

"What?" Zack asked, stunned. "You mean...you knew? This whole time?"

Reeve took in a deep breath, rubbing his eyes. "Not until recently. I've been doing my own research on Scarlet." He turned to the King. "Your Majesty, I had already had strong suspicions regarding Scarlet. For a while now I have been doing my own detective work – nothing illegal or immoral, mind you," he quickly added, at the look of shock on the King's face. "I wanted to gather enough evidence to show you myself."

Letting out another sigh, he continued. "Your Majesty, do you recall a man who worked here named Professor Gast?"

"Ah, yes," Angeal nodded solemnly. "He passed away very suddenly."

"Professor Gast was my best friend. He and I came up with a plan to help those in the slums live better lives. Professor Gast met a woman named Ifalna, fell deeply in love, and married her. The two eventually had a child." Reeve took in a shaky breath. "Her name was Aerith."

"What?" Zack and King Angeal gasped at the same time.

Reeve nodded. "Aerith was only five years old when both of her parents died. Shortly before his death, Gast told me that if anything were to happen to him, or to Ifalna, to take Aerith under my care. He also explicitly told me to not let her go to anyone else in the palace."

Zack felt that he couldn't possibly be more shocked, but the emotion in Duke Tuesti's voice only brought more of it.

"After they both passed away," Reeve continued, his voice slightly shaky, "I tried everything in my power to take in Aerith as my own. I had made a promise. But something was wrong – I no longer was able to do anything. When it came time to decide to whom the child should go, Scarlet...she somehow had all of the legal paperwork. It was signed by Gast and Ifalna's own hands. There was nothing I could do or say to take Aerith in." Reeve said helplessly. "I should have tried harder."

"You did all you could do," the King said softly. "I remember that day well. I wasn't part of the proceedings, but I heard everything that happened. I didn't know it was so personal to you, Reeve."

"So this whole time, you've been trying to incriminate Scarlet?" Zack asked.

Reeve nodded. "In following Scarlet's whereabouts, I've also seen Aerith a few times. It wasn't until recently, however, that I discovered all of what Prince Zack is saying." He looked the King deep in the eyes. "It's true, Your Majesty: Scarlet is using, abusing and constantly humiliating Aerith."

"There has to be something we can do," Zack argued, looking from the Duke to his father. "Can't we kick Scarlet out?"

The King let out a long, deep sigh. "I'm afraid that without solid evidence, we cannot do anything right now. All we have is either circumstantial or word of mouth. I do not believe this girl is a liar, but accusing a member of the Royal Court is a very big deal." Angeal looked at his son. "If Aerith herself were to give a testimony about what she has been through, that would be enough."

"So Aerith is just supposed to suffer in the meantime?!" Zack shouted, feeling his temper rising.

"Of course not," Angeal answered calmly. He turned to Duke Tuesti. "Reeve, have a room prepared for Aerith. Then I want you to find her and bring her here, away from Scarlet. Once she gets here and has some rest, I will speak to her personally about this matter."

"Certainly, Your Grace."

"You're willing to do this?" Zack asked, surprised.

Angeal smiled dryly. "Why are you so surprised? She's your future bride, right?"

In all of his years, Zack had never loved his father more.

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"Your Highness," Duke Tuesti said in a low voice to Zack, as the two of them exited the dining hall moments later, "I should warn you. We both have evidence, but messing with the likes of Scarlet is not going to go smoothly."

"I figured as much."

"And," Reeve said, laying a hand on Zack's shoulder. In all the years Zack had known Duke Tuesti, he had never seen him look more serious or grave. "Be on the lookout for Hojo as well."

"The physician and professor?" Zack asked, surprised. "Why? I've never really talked to him."

"Just trust me, Your Highness." the deep intensity in Reeve's voice gave Zack goosebumps. "Stay away from him, and Scarlet. If either of them come to you alone, run."

"Reeve, what -?"

"I'll explain later," Duke Tuesti straightened up as a few servants carrying the dirty breakfast trays walked past them. "trust me on this."

"….I do."

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All the next morning, Aerith had been extra careful.

She had washed her face at least five times, making sure all traces of makeup were gone. The dress and shoes were gone, so she didn't have that to worry about. Her hair was still sleek and shiny, but once she slept the extravagant curls had turned into wavy wisps.

The only thing she kept from the night before was the blue handkerchief that Zack gave her. Every so often she would press her face into it. It smelled like him and brought her immense comfort.

Even though Aerith was back to her usual routine, there was a skip in her step. She couldn't stop smiling, no matter how hard she tried. Everything from last night – the dance, talking and walking for hours in the palace gardens, the almost-kiss with Zack...it seemed too good to be true. Like a dream that was just out of reach. She had spent the whole night unable to sleep, committing every small detail to memory.

...except for telling Zack the truth about her family.

That was the only dark spot in that bright night. While she did feel a bit lighter after finally telling someone what was really going on, it also made her situation seem all the more real. Like she was finally seeing everything with clearer vision.

Putting those thoughts aside, Aerith continued her normal chores. All morning she smiled, ignoring the quizzical looks from her stepsisters as she served them breakfast.

She was going to be okay. Zack said he would talk with Duke Tuesti and the King about this. She would be getting out soon. And maybe sometime after that, she would be with Zack. Forever.

Even as Scarlet screamed at her and her stepsisters bossed her around, Aerith had yet to stop smiling.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The comment about Hojo only increased Zack's curiosity.

Why would Reeve tell Zack to stay away from him? He had never so much as talked to Hojo. And on the flip side, Hojo never seemed to glance in Zack's direction. They occasionally saw one another in the hallways of the palace, but that was the most conversation the two of them ever had.

Either Reeve knew something Zack didn't, or he didn't want Zack to get involved. Or both.

Zack grimaced as he looked at the door leading to Hojo's private study. Whatever the reason Reeve told him to stay away, it wasn't quite good enough. Aerith's safety – and perhaps even her life – depended on the information they needed to gather. Still, he brought his sword with him just in case anything would happen.

The servants said he was out, Zack thought to himself for what felt like the thousandth time. But I should still hurry.

Zack turned the doorknob and, finding it unlocked, walked inside.

Hojo's study was dark and dingy, with a strange smell in the air. The smallest beam of light came from a tiny window in the far corner. Once Zack's eyes adjusted to the dark, he noticed a large desk with papers covering every available surface. Leaning the sword against the wall but still keeping it in arms reach, Zack walked the few steps to the desk.

He opened the top drawer. It was filled with charts and formulas that he did not understand. The next drawer was full of more papers, and had a single photograph resting on top. Picking it up gingerly with his fingers, Zack examined it, trying to make out what it was. He lifted it up towards the light, and the picture became clearer.

It was a photograph of a man and a woman, with a small child between them. The man was tall and handsome, wearing a lab coat emblazoned with the Royal Crest. He gave off a scholarly, proud vibe, but his eyes were full of nothing but love at the woman and child. The woman was beautiful in an ethereal way, as if she was not from this world. Her eyes were a bright green, and her smile was gentle and kind.

Zack realized with a start that the woman looked like an older, more refined version of Aerith. Heart pounding, his eyes went to the small child. She had bright eyes like her mother, but her smile was more like her father's. She held onto one of each parents hands, looking up at her father in the sweet adoration of a child.

Aerith…

This must have been a picture of her parents; the ones who, according to Aerith, had died so long ago. Zack carefully pocketed it, making a promise to himself that he would give it to Aerith the first chance he got.

But why would Hojo have a picture of Aerith and her parents in the first place? Judging by the lab coat and the royal crest, it appeared that Aerith's father either worked with Hojo or at least knew him. But what of the woman in the picture? Zack did not get the same impression as he did about the man.

Zack picked up the first piece of paper in the drawer. It read:

Now that he is gone, I can finally finish what I started so long ago. Ifalna has her suspicions, of course, but that's nothing a little bargaining can't fix. The woman does not understand that I need her for this. She is the key.

The child whines and cries for her father daily. I can't stand it.

Zack read and reread the paper, his heart racing. What was Hojo doing? What was he trying to accomplish?

Picking up the next paper, Zack continued to read:

The child makes good leverage. The Ancient has been most cooperative since I showed interest in her. A mother's love is strong, and she is fierce in her conviction to protect her child. Perfect use of bait.

The blood of the Ancient is fascinating. Tests have proven to me of a longer life span and greater power, to name a few. It is said the ancients could communicate with the planet, guide the flow of its energy, and could use the power of Materia naturally.

If the race had not died out, imagine what we could have done with their power…

Some speak of endless energy sources, a "brave new world", but what does that matter compared to the Ancients themselves, to their power? Their longer lifespan? The fascinating research that would be done to find out the whys? There must be something in their blood, in their very cells that make up their composition.

I will not stop and I will not rest until I figure out these whys.

Zack forced his eyes away from the paper. He had a distinct, sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach. Even though he had never personally talked to Hojo, the realization of how disturbed of a man he was made him feel ill. Talking so casually of using Aerith as bait and researching her mother's blood made the hairs on Zack's neck rise. It was as if Zack could feel the heartless cruelty of Hojo's words.

He wanted to stop reading. This was too much. But his mind hungered for more information. If any of this would help get Aerith and condemn Scarlet to prison, it would be worth it.

Zack picked up the final piece of paper, his heart pounding. Whereas the others were carefully written out, this one was in rushed handwriting, as if Hojo had written in a frenzy of excitement:

I am a fool to have not realized before. The child's very existence proves that humans and Ancients can not only co-exist, but reproduce naturally.

This should prove far more useful than the failed tests to synthetically create new Ancients. At least I learned how I could do away with that idiot King Angel from that failure.

Zack's heart stopped as he read his father's name. The piece of paper slipped from his fingers and onto the floor. Zack was scarcely aware that his breathing was shallow, and of the cold sweat on his forehead. His mind scrambled, searching desperately for answers that he couldn't find. New Ancients? Synthetic creation? Do away with King Angeal?

Zack's mind flashed back to the night when his father suddenly collapsed, the news of his father's impending death, the degeneration of his cells, how King Angeal had aged ten years in only a week…

….and how Hojo was behind it all. Zack was not exactly sure of how he did it, but the paper was damning evidence.

I've got to warn Father!

"Just what do you think you're doing?"

Zack whirled around. Professor Hojo only stood a few feet away from him, arms crossed and a look of cold fury in his eyes. His presence in the room seemed to make the temperature drop twenty degrees. Zack had always thought Hojo was a bit scary, but this was terrifying.

The warning Reeve gave him earlier in the day resurfaced in his mind: if you are ever alone with either of them, run.

But how could he run now? Hojo was standing in front of the doorway, and there was no other exit. Not only that, but he seemed rooted to the spot. Hojo's penetrating gaze seemed to worm its way into Zack's heart, filling him with terror.

"You..." Zack said shakily, pointing a finger at the professor, "you're the one who is making my Father sick."

Hojo cocked his head in interest. "Caught on, have you? I must say, I'm impressed. No one else has so far." He bowed his head in mock earnest. "Well done, Your Highness."

"Why?" Zack demanded. "Why would you do this?"

"That is none of your concern," Hojo replied coolly.

"None of my concern?" Zack asked incredulously. "He's my Father! And your King!"

"Not for much longer, it seems."

Zack glanced to the wall where he placed his sword. A slow, sickening feeling filled him as he saw it was no longer there, but in Hojo's grasp. He must have grabbed it when Zack's back was turned. Zack realized with stark clarity that he was completely alone and defenseless. With his discovery of Hojo's plans, there was a chance that he could be die right here. Zack felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise.

I need to stall him. Or do something to buy time.

"Why do you want the throne?" he demanded.

"Don't be stupid," Hojo snapped. "I don't want it. But like I said before, that's none of your concern, is it, boy?" Before Zack could answer, Hojo reached into his pocket. "But I digress. It is a shame that the King has to die. But you? Far less tragic. I hardly know you."

He pulled out a small orb. "Not that anyone will know the difference between an accidental death and a purposeful one."

Zack's mind seemed sluggish, for the moment he realized that it was Materia in Hojo's hand, Hojo's lips moved. A sharp pain came into Zack's head, and as much as he tried to keep his eyes open, the darkness of sleep embraced him.

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The girl had been unusually chipper all day.

Usually she was so silent and meek – just how Scarlet liked it. It made it easier to inflict damage, and she never had to clean up the mess. And yet, for whatever reason, Aerith wore a smile. Not her usual "yes ma'am, I'll do whatever you say" smile, but one that reached her eyes. It filled her whole face with light.

She looked...happy. Even when Scarlet yelled at her for spilling the tea.

There had to be a reason, and Scarlet was determined to find out.

She opened the door to Aerith's small bedroom and looked around. As usual, it was neat and tidy. The bed was made up and nothing was on the floor. She dug her fingers into the pockets of the few clothes that were hung on the walls (Aerith did not have a closet). Nothing.

She marched to the bed and lifted up the mattress, hoping to see something – anything – that could explain why Aerith was acting so strange. Seeing nothing there, the mattress fell with a slight squeak of the bed springs. Scarlet bent down and peered under it. There was nothing but dust and mothballs. She let out a huff of breath before sitting down on the bed, anger pulling at her heart.

What could have happened to make her so happy?

A splotch of color caught her from the corner of her eye. A small piece of fabric stuck out beneath the girl's pillow. Scarlet yanked it out, examining it carefully.

It was a silk handkerchief, aquamarine in color, smooth to the touch. There is no way she could have bought this, Scarlet thought to herself, rubbing her fingers against the fabric. This is too fine of a quality to buy in the markets.

Her fingers rubbed against a slight bump in the handkerchief. Scarlet peered closely at it, realizing they were carefully sewn initials with golden thread: Z.F.

The floor seemed to fall beneath Scarlet's feet. Although she was already sitting down, she felt dizzy. Her thoughts buzzed around in her mind, quickly overlapping each other. The high quality of the silk, how Aerith had been acting unusually cheerful all morning, how there was only one person she knew of with those initials…

She's...she's the…

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Aerith walked into the house, still smiling as she put the groceries away. The children at the orphanage had been very enthusiastic in asking about her experience at the ball. Aerith indulged them in a few details, but mostly kept the memories to herself. Not because she wanted to not share them; there were just some things that were...too vulnerable to share.

The mansion was quiet, almost eerily so. Usually Aerith heard one of her stepfamily's voices from upstairs. She glanced at the clock; it was only mid-afternoon. The three of them probably went somewhere.

Maybe I can get to bed a bit early, she thought as she descended the steps to her tiny bedroom. Or catch a quick nap. It doesn't seem like anyone is home. She opened the door to her bedroom and walked inside.

And there, sitting on her bed, was Scarlet.

At first it didn't seem real. Aerith blinked a few times to make sure she wasn't imagining things. But her stepmother's figure did not fade into the walls or vanish into thin air. If anything, the longer Aerith stared, the more prominent Scarlet seemed to be. She could feel herself shrinking again, turning into a cornered mouse stalked by a ferocious cat.

Her blood turned to ice as Scarlet wordlessly held up a blue piece of fabric. The dots connected as Aerith saw two letters in golden thread glinting in the light. Z.F.

"Funny you should have this," Scarlet began softly, rubbing the fabric with her fingers. "since it is too fine a fabric to buy in the markets." She set her hand in her lap, staring at Aerith with her cold green eyes. "It's also strange that it should have the initials of the Prince. Even stranger," she put a hand to her cheek in mock surprise. "is that the talk of the town is a girl at the ball last night that no one seemed to recognize."

Aerith tried to speak, but her voice box had turned to ice. In all the times she had ever been in trouble, she had never heard her stepmother sound so dangerous.

"I'm sure it will come as no surprise to you," Scarlet continued, standing up. "since you were there." She casually discarded the handkerchief to the floor.

Aerith dashed to the spot, wanting to catch it, knowing somehow that this might be the last thing she had of Zack. But as her fingers brushed it, a hand roughly grabbed her shoulder. Her head exploded in pain as she was shoved against the wall. Spots appeared in her vision that were soon replaced by a pale, furious face. Strong fingers grabbed her chin, forcing her to look into her stepmother's cold, ruthless eyes.

"How did you get there?" Scarlet asked, in a low voice.

"I – I wasn't -"

"Don't lie." the grip on her chin tightened, and Aerith winced in pain. "Don't you dare act as if you don't know what I'm talking about. You have a handkerchief with the Prince's initials. You, of all people." Scarlet let out a chuckle that made Aerith's heart surge with horror. "How dare you. How dare you take this opportunity away from my daughters. You thieving, conniving little tramp."

A shock wave of pain exploded across Aerith's face. Already she could feel the mark of Scarlet's hand on her cheek.

Just think of Zack, she pleaded with herself as Scarlet continued to berate her. Zack...and how he's going to get you out of here. You won't have to deal with this anymore.

"Look at me when I'm talking to you!" Scarlet shrieked, forcing Aerith's chin up again. "Do you honestly think I'm stupid? That's the second time you've made that assumption about me, girl. I didn't think you to be so stupid as to do it again. Look at you: a poor, penniless, hopeless case. You are unlovable; you probably seduced the prince into thinking you're so sweet and innocent." Scarlet's voice dripped with venom. "Once he sees how you really are, he's going to be sorry he ever met you."

"….you're wrong."

Scarlet's eyes widened. "What did you just say to me?"

"You heard me." Aerith forced herself to look into her stepmother's eyes. "You are wrong. I am not a seductress; that's your daughter's jobs."

Anger flashed in Scarlet's eyes. "How dare you -"

"I dare."

In that quarter of a second, something inside of Aerith broke. It was as if a dam holding back all of the words she ever wished to say finally gave way to the pressure of her emotions. Her voice was trembling, and a part of her was screaming, screaming at her not to say anything, to just take the pain and be quiet, because it would all be over soon.

And maybe that would have been easier. But it was also a lie.

"You...everything about you and your horrible children is wrong. You claim to be working for the greater good at the palace, but all you want is power." She was shaking like a leaf in a storm, but she kept going. "I told Zack. I told him everything. About you, what you've done to me, and how heartless you really are." Her confidence grew as she saw Scarlet's eyes grow wider. "He's going to talk to the King. He's probably talking to him as we speak. You will atone for everything you've done – every name you've called me, every bruise you gave me, every time you've demeaned me when I have done nothing but what you asked. You...you're not going to get away with this."

Scarlet stood there, her mouth open. For a brief moment Aerith saw a flash of fear in her eyes. Then it was replaced by her usual snide demeanor. A chuckle emerged from her throat, which turned into a full-on belly laugh that sank the rest of Aerith's new, barely-there confidence.

"Oh, you poor, sweet child," Scarlet simpered, in mock sympathy as she held up an orb in her hand. Her face turned to stone. "I already have."

There was a flash of light, a puff of smoke, and Aerith felt herself falling; falling into the deep, dark abyss of sleep.