AN: lol, yeah Lilian, Jon's a babe, but he's mine! (trust me, I have a very unhealthy obsession with him, it's scary…see Louy, I admit it!) Yay, thanks for the support guys, it's been GREAT…*hugs for all* *trudges off to write more…* and Louy, (dreamerbabylioness if you're thinkin WTH?) so the Evil One has reviewed her Other Evil Half! lol, a scary thought indeed…well enjoy guys! Thanks again for the reviews (Temptress, Lilian, Kaye, dreamerbabylioness, Queen Anjie, jilla kala) oh and Temptress, I don't like Neal coz he's a self-obsessed idiot and I resent Kel liking someone like him! Oops, sorry Neal fans! Don't flame me, I'M INNOCENT I TELL YOU!

Chapter Two – Men and Their Games

Roald made me mount and dismount so any times, that alone tired the hell out of me. I was puffing by the time he'd said that was enough mounting. I glared at him while I breathed quickly.

'You're a slave-driver!' I growled.

He grinned ruthlessly, patting his horse. 'You want to be as good as the King don't you? Wait, you want to be better, don't you… so come on, time for actually staying on the horse at a trot.'

I gave him a pained look. 'Can't we rest a bit? My bones are about to break off!'

'Come on! No complaining! My father didn't complain!'

So I mounted the horse and groaned as my muscles stretched and winced with pain. I prayed the sourness I would feel tonight would be worth it.

My horse was small and cute, her name was Calmheart because she was always calm, even when there had been a small fire in the stables that had frightened all the other horses, she'd merely sauntered around her space and waited patiently for the fire to be put out. She didn't neigh loudly in fright and try to break out of the stables. No, she'd remained calm throughout the whole episode, hence her name.

'Follow me!' Roald called out, letting go of my reigns and handing them to me.

I looked at him, then the reigns and slowly took them in my hands. I gulped and tried to keep myself balanced on Calmheart, she was very tolerant, since I wasn't a very calm myself.

It was harder than it looked, to stay balanced on a horse that is. The wind tugged at you and you feel like you're going to topple down any second, face-first. So you have to keep your feet in place and your thighs pressed against the horse; that's the main key. To keep your legs clenched into the horse, not too hard, that would just irritate the horse.

I learnt that the hard way, as soon as I'd loosened my legs, I lost balance and was knocked down to the ground. It was a soft landing, but a painful one nonetheless. Roald merely chuckled and helped me back up and watched amusedly as I dusted off the dirt.

'Thank you, your Highness, you're too kind!' I grunted, remounting Calmheart and locking my legs in place, tugging at the reigns and digging my heel into her mount. Calmheart went off at a trot and I copied what I'd seen Roald do many times when he'd showed me how to saunter a horse.

I'll show him I can ride well, maybe not as good as the King, but I can ride well nevertheless!

'Come on, girl!' I whispered to Calmheart, as I leaned my head over hers and felt the wind blasting against me in a powerful fury.

So off she bolted with me praying I won't lose control and get thrown against the floor, or something worse. But I sauntered her back over to where Roald sat patiently, and slowly brought Calmheart to a stop.

I felt my breath come in three times faster than normal as I gasped for air to feed my hungry lungs, but I was smiling and happy. I'd done it; I'd ridden without falling off or losing balance once.

'I hope the King doesn't take being bested too badly!' I laughed, dismounting. I would have fallen to the ground if Calmheart hadn't been there for me to lean against. I bent over and listened to my breath come in short pants.

Roald merely smiled. 'I'm sure the King knows the way of defeat—Alanna's taught him to take it with a grin.'

'Come on, where's your chivalry! Help me to my room!' I exclaimed, but Roald shook his head firmly.

'We haven't finished yet. I want to see you trot Calmheart over to that tree down there and back here. Only a trot, Reem, do not race off!'

Roald tortured me with another ten of the trotting up and down exercise he called 'warming up'. My muscles felt like a scorching iron rod a smith uses and my bones were about to fall off of me by the time Roald declared the training lesson over.

'You,' I pointed at the Prince, glaring and panting as I collapsed to the ground, 'are a monster!'

Shrugging, he sat down beside me. 'The King wouldn't tire this easily, neither would a mere page.'

'Hey, give me a break! I've only ridden a horse once in my life, and we were two on the horse, I was at the back and I was nearly falling off the horse! Not worth the money I paid!'

'Well, at least now you know the basics of riding,' Roald said.

'Basics? I know how to saunter, I know how to trot, I know how to run and I know how to bring the damn horse to a stop, what more do you want?' I questioned gruffly.

'Well,' Roald began, 'you need to learn how to start of at a walk, then a saunter, then a trot, then a walk and gradually bring the pace down until you stop to a halt. Do you know how to do that?'

I scowled and shook my head.

He smiled. 'Well, that's what more I want you to learn.'

I gaped at him. 'You're mad! I've barely started and you're treating me like a pro!'

'Whining won't get you anywhere, but the monster in me pities you, so I'll buy you a drink and some food. Come on,' he helped me up.

'I'm not really hungry,' I lied. I didn't want to hang around this guy more than necessary; a crush turning into an obsession in an unknown world isn't a good thing at all. 'I think I'll go relax, back in my room.'

But Roald didn't let off. 'You can relax in an inn with some fresh-brewed beer or—'

'Oh, I don't think underage drinking is very intelligible.'

He stared at me like I'd gone mad.

'Listen, as much as I love beer and would love to hang around drunk men with beards that could hide a chicken, I'd really like a nice, relaxing day to myself.'

I didn't even wait for his reaction; I whirled around and winced as my muscles acted up. But I kept walking—well, dragging myself—back to my quarters. As much to my dismay, he didn't come after me, didn't even call me back. So I pushed that disappointment to the back of my mind and concentrated on the main question.

Do I want to go back to the Other World (aka my world) or do I want to stay in this world?

But first I had to talk to Khalil, he didn't know anything about this world, I don't know why he ended up here and not in some fantasy world of his own. But I wasn't going to let him live in this world so ignorantly. He needed to learn the ways of Tortall.

With my mind made up, I walked over to a handsome squire who was practicing archery in the field. When he was out of arrows, I whistled to get his attention.

'Hey, you. Yes you. Mind helping a gorgeous Lady here?'

The look he gave me certainly spelled out freak, so I rolled my eyes and walked up to him. 'Listen, bud, my guide is currently held up at some inn, drinking his heart out and I need someone to help me around. You see—'

'You're one of the girls from the Other World, aren't you?' he asked, his eyes wide in astonishment and fear.

'Ah, yeah, whatever. So can you please help me? I'm a Lady in distress here! Isn't that one of your chivalry codes, to aid any Lady in 'distress'?'

If he would just stop giving me that look, I might not slap him to the ground!

'Sure.'

Thank you!

'Where do you want to go?' he asked, putting down his bow.

'Well,' I started, 'there's this guy called Khalil and I—'

'Oh, if you're looking for that boy, he's over at the inn closest to the Palace!'

I couldn't help rolling my eyes. 'Yeah, great, that's wonderful, but could you please help me get there! I haven't really been here long enough to memorize the palace, let alone the streets of Tortall!'

There was that look again.

'Hey, enough staring! Just take me there, ok?' I just hoped Roald wouldn't be there. Standing him up was one thing, showing up and talking to another guy while he was watching was another thing.

I sighed at the complexity of obtaining a love life and followed the baffled boy.

It took ten minutes to get to the inn, I didn't bother looking around the tavern, I'd point out Khalil even if five thousand guys that looked like him were put in front of me.

'Hey, Khalil,' I shouted over the raucous, from the door.

That was a very bad move.

All eyes turned to me, every single pair of them, and one of the pair of eyes belonged Roald's.

I nearly cursed, but contained myself and walked gracefully towards Khalil and grabbed and dragged him out of the room, breathing a sigh of relief when I shut the door behind me.

'Mate, we need to talk,' I said, leaning against the wall of the inn, arms folded across my chest.

From the look on his face, I could tell he was more than a little tipsy. I felt like slapping him, after I'd watched my mum get drunk and wreck her life because of the booze, I'd gotten very testy about drinking. And I didn't like my best friend getting drunk at all.

So I did slap him.

'You friggin' idiot! If I see you in that damn inn one more time, I will kick you head in so fast, the next thing you know you're squeaking your lungs out—in your next life!'

I didn't count on three macho-type men—who looked a lot like drunk sailors—to come up behind Khalil and grunt at me gruffly.

'You botherin' our mate, Lady?' the one with oily hair roared, putting a meaty arm around Khalil's shoulders, jolting him.

I didn't feel threatened at all at that moment, I could take them on. Just give me a sword.

'If I was bothering him, I'd tell you, so if you could please butt your pretty faces out of my business, I'm quite busy right now!'

The other two; one with a huge scar across his cheek and the other with the longest beard, gaped at me before growling like starved beasts.

'Listen, wench, no one talks to us that way—'

'Well, I have, so get over it and bug off! Man, are you deaf? My bud and me have some serious talking to do and if you don't leave now, your pretty faces will be decorating another grave in a cemetery!'

Beard-man's face went pale, then red with rage as he lunged at me. I blocked him with my fist and kicked him in the groin. I'd learnt that in self-defence classes at school—at least I learnt something there. He crumbled to the ground in pain.

The next guy, scar-man, swung a punch at my face—but luckily he was too drunk to cause any real damage. My head rang a bit from the punch but I noticed Khalil swinging back a punch of his own at the chest of scar-man.

But oily-hair was laughing nastily, with squinting eyes as he rounded me up, clamping his hands together and rubbing them. 'You're a pretty one, aren't you.'

I could tell that this one wasn't drunk at all and that I was in big trouble because he was three times my height and size, but I wasn't going to let him bully me about.

I fought with something sharper than swords—words. Too bad they weren't heavier.

'Pity I can't say the same about you! I thought you looked pretty from afar, but man do you need a shave! Have you ever heard of a razor? And that bush you call hair! Might as well grab a bird and nest it there, for affect!'

Just like beard-man, oily-hair's face drained of all colour, and then the colour—mostly red—flooded back into his ugly, scarred face and he attacked.

As soon as I was about to swing a punch of my own—Roald appeared out of nowhere and fought karate-style, in a matter of seconds sending oily-hair splat against the wall of the inn, with a groan.

Alanna had probably taught him the Shang way of fighting.

Khalil had been sober enough to not get himself hurt by beard-man, who was lying alongside scar-man. I wondered how Khalil had gotten to know such brutes. But I knew—from drinking.

'You moronic—' censored swearing '—I hope you damn well learnt your lesson because I am not saving your butt next time!'

'Save my butt?' Khalil exclaimed, swaying.

'Yes!' I growled back, my face blazing with rage. 'You nearly got us—'

'You're da one 'oo needed savin'! You pulled me out of da inn 'n' you insulted the free'kin' idiots 'n' ended—'

'Excuse me!? Was I the one who got drunk and made friends with the ugliest, filthiest sailors a—'

'I am nut drunk!' He screeched, his own face blazing now.

'What do you call that swaying, then? Temporary loss of a brain to control your balance? You never had a brain to begin with! It was drained away just as you drained those cups of beer and I wouldn't—'

'Listen to you! You're da one actin' like a drunkurd! I never thought—'

'Me!? Never have I picked up a single cup of beer since my mum got sick you moron! My words aren't being slurred, my breath doesn't stink from alcohol and I am not swaying like an idiot! I hope you damn well get what I'm—'

'Maybe if you free'kin' listen't me for a second—'

'SHUT UP!'

Amazingly, both Khalil and me turned to look at the fuming Prince.

'My head is swirling thanks to you two! Can't you fight without acting like such children? Cutting off each other and screaming your lungs out—the whole of Tortall probably now knows of your foolish episode! Now I want you to get back to the Palace and stay there, for Tortall's sake…and my ears'.'

I looked at Khalil; he was still swaying and hiccupping, but other than that, he was just as silent and solemn as me. We marched back to the Palace like guilty little children marching home after playing in the mud and knowing they were in for it from their mothers.

I didn't know Roald could be so authoritative, as soon as he uttered an order, you felt you had to obey. No choice. His voice was empowering and certainly not a voice to doubt or go against.

King Roald will certainly be a popular King, when his day comes. And his Queen, the Yamani Princess, will certainly be a lucky queen.

I slid my arms around Khalil's waist and leaned my head against his chest as we walked up the road towards the Palace. 'I hope you know how disappointed I am in you,' I stated.

Roald groaned from behind us. 'No, not again, Reem.'

But Khalil merely put his own arms around my shoulders and sighed.

King Jonathon, my ex-future-husband, gave me the biggest lecture when he'd returned to the Palace from an expedition of some sort, a half hour before midnight.

I was sour and grouchy and wishing I'd never ventured out to see Khalil. It hadn't been worth it.

'Young lady, I trusted you to behave properly, I trusted you to go out without making a mockery of yourself, but you went along and profoundly proved me wrong! But did you have to alert the whole of Tortall of it? Couldn't you just have fell off a horse or something! At the least! But no, you went into a men-only'—which explained the attention I'd stirred—'tavern and insulted the best sailors around and left them aching and pounded outside the tavern! I hope you enjoyed yourself, because I certainly didn't. The girls from the Other World aren't all that popular in Tortall and in fact, people fear them. Even our greatest mages can't transport themselves into another world, and you people come and do just that, sparking fear in even the King of Tortall.'

I was very much expecting him to say 'Do you repent, now, and go with peace, Reem?'

But of course he didn't, instead he looked piteously at me and shook his head sadly.

'Young lady, next time you want to go around knocking sailors' heads and attract so much attention, disguise yourself as a merchant or something, all right? People are used to merchants stirring up trouble, but not ladies who are known to be of the Other World, people react reproachfully to that.'

My God, Jon sure knows how to bore a girl!

'Yes, your Majesty, I comprehend what you have been telling me and I regret all that I've done and I beg your forgiveness. Will your Majesty forgive the little lady that I am? I beg to change your Majesty's opinion of me! I'm a polite and well-mannered young lady'—a cough from Khalil—'and a lady that does not purposefully disobey or anger her elders. Am I forgiven? I repent feverously.'

With my innocent-act on, down to the fluttering lashes and wide, blameless eyes and pouting mouth, I had Jon in the trap.

'Of course, I was merely pointing out that you be discreet next time you decide to embarrass yourself.' He smiled warmly down at me and patted my cheek. 'You may go now.' His eyes hardened as he turned to look at Khalil. 'As for you young man,' his harsh voice bellowed.

I snickered at Khalil and made a rude gesture, he had to grunt and bare it because the King would see all that he did, so I got away with it and slipped out of His Majesty's office and into my room.

Roald was waiting at my door. He was surprised to see me—it was my room, I was sure of that, I even looked around for the picture near the wall of an ancient-looking woman that distinguished my room from the rest, and found it. So why did he look so amazed?

'He let you go?' he cried out.

'Who?' I asked, taking out the key from around my neck, I'd linked it to a thong and placed it around my neck since the dress didn't have any pockets.

'My father! He let you go, without any grounding or any punishment?' he looked baffled.

'As if he would! I wouldn't listen to him even if he did punish me! What is he, my dad or something? Nope, sorry, my dad is long dead and enjoying himself in his next life!'

'I-I didn't know,' Roald stammered, pity in his eyes.

I got angry when people pitied me, why feel sorry for me? Just because I didn't have a father didn't mean I'm deprived or anything, my mum loved me the amount of two people! I didn't need a father to live or breathe. I'd managed without him, why the look of pity?

That's why I was short with Roald. 'Look, I need some sleep, so just leave, ok?'

He looked hurt. 'Oh, all right. I just wanted to ask—would you like to come with me tomorrow? I'm going riding and would love some company. Yours preferably.'

Why was he asking me out? This was the second time. But maybe, I thought, it was just friendliness, because I didn't have anything to do, he's just asking me out for fun—as friends.

Do I jump to conclusions or what? I thought to myself lamely.

The Prince of Tortall—a betrothed Prince of Tortall—asking a weirdo like me out? Possible, but improbable, the way Tammy had described the Yamani Princess; I was not even slight competition.

And so I did what I knew I had to do: refuse. And stubbornly.

'Nah, I'm sorry, I've promised Serena to go out with them tomorrow, I haven't met their friends yet and they seem excited enough,' I said curtly.

'Oh,' he said with obvious disappointment and a hint of embarrassment. 'Some other day then?'

'Ah, yeah, sure,' I replied uneasily, unlocking the door and saying a quick good night and shutting the door behind me. I undressed and slipped into my nightgown and let my hair down from the bun it had been pinned to. My thick, curly brown hair fell down to my waist—so ungracefully, it made me laugh. It just went blop; not like any shampoo adds I'd seen, with the swaying, shiny hair.

But the world was full of bull that people had to live with; TV was one of them.

I crawled into my soft, comfortable bed and sighed with relief; the day was over.

The prospect of 'tomorrow' was hazy through the prospect of actual sleep. My body felt so sleep-deprived, it felt hallow and greedy for sleep. Even if I had to have those dreams, the dreams that I woke up sweating and choking from, they were so real, so tremendously real that I had to pinch myself to see if I was awake.

I'd had those dreams ever since my father had died, and they'd increased when my brother had also passed away. My mum's therapist had told me it was natural to have nightmares after deaths of close people in the family, but even after I had really gotten over their deaths, these dreams remained to haunt and stalk me. And whoever was causing it was far worse than mincemeat when I found them out.

I mean there had to be someone behind my nightmares, because nightmares don't start up on their own; just like fires never start up on their own. No matter what bush campers say about it not being their fault that the fires started whilst they were there, the blame was placed on them because fires don't materialize in secure areas without a little push; like an uncovered campfire, or rubbish of glass and flammable objects.

It was the same with nightmares, something or someone had to spark the flame for it to grow to a disaster.

But my mum's therapist just threw my explanation out the window when I'd told her of it, she'd laughed and looked at me with pity—which I resented—and told me that she was positively sure that when I get over the deaths of my father and brother; I'd be fine.

Surprise, surprise, it's not fine. But I've gotten used to it, it's an inconvenience and once again, a routine I put up with. Routines seemed to rule my life. But hey, that's just another daily routine. Life.



The next morning I woke up sour, grumpy and testy.

The nightmares hadn't helped either, and neither did Roald's training lesson. Both added up with the fact that I'm in a totally different world than I'm used to and that my undergarments are so itchy I can barely walk—not that I could in my sour condition—I wasn't a very happy person that day.

'Let's go have some breakfast!' Hayley said with a huge smile.

The smile made me wince; happiness seemed so far off when you're in such pain. 'Where?' I asked, praying it wasn't too far off because I couldn't walk far without collapsing. Well no, that was a lie, but who's gonna know?

'At the squires' mess maybe?' Serena said, feigning innocence. But both of us, Hayley and me, knew that the only reason Serena wanted to eat there was because Khalil was going to eat there. He'd made some friends with the squires he was sharing quarters with and was of course tagging along where they went.

'All right, let's go then,' I said, feeling sorry for Serena's desperation to be around Khalil. 'Are we allowed to though?'

There was a twinkle in Serena's bright face as she got up from the chair with determination. 'We'll just have to find out.'