Well, if I got you to come this far- that's a miracle. To all the people who reviewed or followed this story I'd like to say thank you! It means the world to me. Honestly.

Just a reminder, this story is in a different world. Meaning their canon pasts never happened.

Warning: This is a dark story with adult themes.

Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach or the characters. Just the story.

Well then let's jump right in!

The sound of droplets of water hit the marble floor was my only company as I stood outside my father's large oak door. It had been 20 minutes since my arrival and yet I hadn't heard a single sound from within. My dripping wet hair clung to my back, seeping cold water into my uniform and I resisted the urge to shiver. The thought of knocking crossed my mind and I banished it instantly. The king had whipped his servants for less and while this day was already beginning to drag, I didn't plan on making it worse for myself.

A group of men, dressed for combat, rounded the corner and I straightened. Their uniforms labeled them as soldiers from The Southern Rim. They didn't seem to notice me as they approached and I took the opportunity to take them in. There were four men in total, two of whom were fairly older, perhaps mid 40's. Their hair was a pale white. And somehow their faces were blank yet stern. They were clearly unhappy to have traveled so far from home. They wore the colors of the South, dark blue shirts and slacks but delicate threading's of bright yellow swirled on the front of their shirts. Red sashes hung across their chests stretching from shoulder to shoulder, and two very large swords hung from their sides.

As it was normal in most cities, they had armor that sat upon their shoulders, not clunky but sturdy enough to protect from any blade.

Looking at them it was easy to assume they were high ranking generals, but as I observed harder I noticed they had no dents in their armor. Odd, considering Southerners prided themselves on such things. The more imperfect the armor- the fiercer the warrior. They believed you weren't truly a solider if a sword had never been close enough to graze you. And the older men's armor gleamed, as if brand new. Politicians then. Not a threat.

I moved past them and took in the younger men. They were around 20 and they both towered over the older men, their shoulders were broad and seemed to carry their armor easily. Armor that had so many indention's it was shocking it was still in one piece and just the sight of it set me on edge. They were dressed in near identical outfits as the others but where the older men's red sashes were bare, these men had many patches that I could only assume they'd earned through bloodshed. Where one had hair that reminded me of a clear sky, the others was as dark as the night. And as they drew near, I could better see their faces and with little effort I saw the similarities. Brothers maybe? Brothers that had clearly seen many battles and survived them all. They would be the ones to watch.

They were passing directly in front of me when I realized I was full blown staring. The one with blue hair, looked over his brothers' shoulder and smirked at me, mistaking my gaze as appreciative. I didn't dare look away, I poured fire into my eyes as he held them. I didn't let the surprise show on my face when I noticed his peculiar eyes, one green and one blue.

He stopped walking and his brother instantly stopped with him, but the older men walked a few more steps before noticing half their party had halted.

I studied the one who looked like the night and blinked. His eyes, which were now staring at me, were the same as his brothers'. One green and one blue, but opposite. Almost as if they had each stolen an eye from the other. They were mirror images. I looked from each of their faces and saw that they didn't just look alike, they were identical. Not just brothers but twins.

The dark brother took me in, from my boots up to my own armor. His eyebrows raised when he noticed the material. I felt a small twinge of pride as he took it in. Silver Armor was as rare as it was strong. Some people were only lucky enough to see just a scrap of it. To the East, in Bellator, you could find small pieces of jewelry made of it; earrings, rings and maybe a bracelet if you were lucky. The tiniest bit of it was worth a fortune.

And my entire upper body was covered in it.

It stretched over my shoulders and stopped just below my heart, leaving my breasts and stomach exposed. It had been a gift from my uncle on my mothers' side- the current ruler of Bellator- given to me on my 15th birthday.

"Not very often you see a woman dressed for war." The smirky one said, shaking me from my thoughts. "Especially not one with such beautiful armor."

I bristled at that, as if I was just some doll playing dress up.

"It's surprising the South is still standing, if they let mere men fight their battles."

The dark one's mouth twisted up a bit before composing himself but it was his brother that responded. "Perhaps it is different here but our women don't fight in our armies. They either learn to cook or spend their time warming a true soldiers bed. Depending on their skill set, of course."

"No wonder you're so thin, your poor mother never learned to cook."

His lip curled as his darker twin laughed. It seemed their hair colors did not suit their personalities. My opponent of words took me in once more, lingering longer on my hips and bust, before smirking.

"Maybe you Goldie's have the right idea. If our women look anything like you in that uniform, we should let them join, then at least we'd have something else to pass around other than the scurry maids."

I could have killed him just for his words alone but when he reached up, moving his fingers towards my chest as if to caress my armor, I decided to have some fun instead.

Never taking my eyes from his, I reached up wrapped my fingers around his wrist, and yanked it forward so that his palm was flat against my breastplate. He smirked and took one step forward, stepping away from the safety of his brother. I craned my neck so I could look into his face as I said, "Shiny, isn't it?"

He nodded in response, spreading out his fingers, not being able to move much else as I kept my hand wrapped securely around his wrist. His brother watched cautiously, stepping to the side where he could see me fully.

"They say Silver Armor shines brightest after being bathed in blood." I put all my strength into my hand, crushing his wrist in my clutches. I twisted it until I felt the bones close to snapping and he dropped to a knee in front of me, his face showing true surprise. "I think your blood will make it glow brighter than it ever has before."

I smiled wickedly as his brother moved to draw his sword.

"I'd be careful, Dark one." I snickered, causing him to pause. "Drawing your sword in the presence of the kings Heir can only end badly for you."

His hand dropped to his side limply as his golden twin gaped up at me. Recognition shined through his eyes, finally, he saw me for who I was. He opened his mouth to speak, to apologize maybe, but I cut him off, not wanting him to end my fun just yet. "Not very often you see a man on his knees. Especially one with such a big mouth."

I twisted his wrist some more, all it would take was one flick of my wrist to break the bones. He'd know then, what a woman could do.

Before he could feel the pain, the doors flew open behind me and I dropped his wrist as if it were on fire. I stood tall, my hands folded neatly behind my back as the king walked from his bedroom. He stopped just past his threshold, and took in the sight before him. He looked to the kneeling man, holding his wrist tenderly, the dark-haired man who refused to meet his eyes- instead choosing to bow his head. And finally, the two older men who had witnessed everything without a word, they surprisingly seemed completely bored.

It was at the sight of them that he spoke, "Kensei and Gin! How nice to see you so early in the morning." The men nodded their agreements, bowing their heads slightly in respect. My father noticed me then, my back to the wall, standing in front of the kneeling man. He smiled as if he knew exactly what had happened.

"I see you've had the pleasure of meeting my daughter, General Orihime Inoue."

The sandy one rose from the ground, keeping his head down as he spoke. "Good morning, Your Grace. Allow me to introduce myself, I am Grimmjow, general to half of the Southern forces. And this is my brother Ulquiorra, he commands the other half of our military."

Finally, he lifted to his full height, moving his eyes shyly to me in the process. "While I had heard the rumors, I never expected your daughter to be so beautiful, Your Majesty. I was taken completely off guard because of it."

He was laying it on pretty thick. Begging me with his eyes to keep quiet, little did he know that if I had wanted him dead, he would be already. With or without my father. But I'd take the flattery anyway.

"Yes, she very clearly takes after her mother. In every sense a Beautiful Inoues, except of course for her brutal viciousness that she inherited from my bloodline. I'm sure you will one day see that side of her, if you have not already." The king said with a pointed glance to the mans' right wrist, where the skin was red and irritated. If I hadn't known better, I could have sworn I heard pride in his voice.

"Yes," said the dark one- Ulquiorra. "and we hope to never again have it directed at us." He looked at me as he said it, his fascinating eyes didn't beg but instead they showed curiosity. I'm sure it was quite shocking to them, to see a woman in such a high position. We were all equal in rank and yet, at first glance they'd thought of me as a doll, as something to pass around between them.

My tone was icy as I purred, "We were simply speaking about the variances in our militaries, Father. It really is quite different in the South. So… Barbaric."

"Oh, is that right?" Clark- the king- wondered. He stepped from beside me and laid his hand on Grimmjow's shoulder, before continuing, "Perhaps I could send Orihime to your territory. She is known around here as the Enforcer of Law, I'm sure she would have much to teach you."

Grimmjow looked pale as death. It seemed he had a way with words when it came to people he believed beneath him, but as soon as nobility arrived his whole demeanor changed. A way of remaining invisible? From what I had seen of him, he was callous and fierce, but those were things that got you recognition on the battle field, not in the High Courts.

"We would be honored to welcome her, Your Majesty." Ulquiorrra once again stepped in to save his brother. And, taking in his posture, so carefree and relaxed, I wondered if he was used to such awkward encounters. It must be very exhausting to have a brother who uses his mouth before his brain.

With that Clark became bored of the warrior brothers, taking his hand away from Grimmjow, he stepped towards the politicians. He stepped into a whole new role entirely, my father was a man of many faces. Even I, who had spent 20 years watching from the shadows, had yet to see them all. Clark began down the long hallway, Kensei and Gin walking a step behind- allowing the king to lead. I followed them, keeping my pace casual, a daughter following her father.

Long ago the king decided it would be better if people assumed he was constantly without a guard. "People are devilish creatures." He'd said. "They only show their true faces when comforted by shadows. It is true strength to allow them to plot and to scheme, to allow them to sneak behind your back with a knife in hand, because only then will you see them for what they are."

And so, through the years, I had been his silent protector. A job I loathed but took very seriously. Night was the only time he was ever truly alone. Locked in his fortress of a room. Even when I wasn't around he had a guardian, watching from the shadows, giving the world the illusion of opportunity. Not that the king wasn't capable of protecting himself. Long before he was king, he was the same as me. Heir to the throne, general of the Golden Cities armies, and assassin if need be. And even though we should have bonded over our shared history, something within us was very different. My father, when he was 23 had killed his king- his own father- so that he could rule.

He had schemed in the shadows, he had given the illusion of safety to his father, and then had stabbed him to death.

And because of this the king had never truly trusted me. He expected me to betray him, to crave my own throne. But one thing he didn't count on was that I never wanted to rule. I had become Heir so that I could live, not so that I could be Queen. In a perfect world, Clark would live forever, never handing me his crown.

But as I looked at his back, his cape that swished on the ground, his armor that sat upon his shoulders, I noticed that his left side seemed to be holding the majority of the weight. I noticed his own hair that had once been as bright as my own, was now nearly completely gray. It wouldn't be long before time took him.

And as I walked I felt the eyes of the brothers on my own back, searching for weaknesses. They would find none. I supposed I should grow used to the eyes of people on my back, stares from those who wanted to stab me in it. I didn't know how many years it would take, maybe 30- maybe only one, but eventually the king would fall, and I would be forced to rule.

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Well, that's all for chapter two!

Please review if you have any insight!

Till next time-