Heylo . . . redid this chapter. I still don't like it that much, but I like it better then what I had before. If you haven't read this story before, thank you for trying it - I hope you like it!

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"What?!" I exclaimed, never one for tact, "Banished?"

He only stared at me stonily. He was very good at that, the king. I can't say I was particularly fond of the way his cold gray eyes bore into me, but then no one here seemed to care about what I felt. I shivered, feeling colder by the minute as he continued to stare at me. I nervously wrapped a strand of brilliant red hair around my finger.

"Banished," he repeated, "Unless . . . " he trailed off. I looked up, not daring to hope. Still, "unless" was a good sign. At least, I thought it was. "Unless you withdraw your refusal."

My mouth dropped open as I heard his words. I had been told of the royalty's insane whims, but I had never expected one to touch me. I was only a thief, after all, only a peasant. I had never imagined that my unstable sovereign would demand something this ridiculous of me. "Your Majesty," I choked out, at the same time being astonished I was actually having this conversation with my king. "You can not be serious. I am a peasant!" I gestured down at my scrubby clothes to emphasize my point. "An orphan. I am penniless!"

The king only glared. "Your station and riches to not matter. They would all be absolved no matter who the bride is."

"King Raibvin, I will not marry your son! " I cried out desperately. Was it possible to make him realize what a mistake this was? When foreigners entered home, the capital of my country, I heard mutterings of how backward the ruling family was, with their odd obsessions. Still, I would never have believed that, in the middle of a completely ordinary day, I would be hauled off the street and dragged to the castle. Without giving me time to change, I had been given an audience with the king, in his cold stone fortress. He demanded that I marry his son. Me, a common street-rat, just because I had not so common looks. I scowled, at my king, feeling less intimated as I realized how insane this was. It wasn't my fault that I was beautiful Surely he wouldn't exile me just because I wouldn't marry his pathetic excuse for an heir.

Apparently he would. "Then you will marry no one in my kingdom," he said coolly. "As you are banished forever. Guards!"

At the call for guards, I admit I panicked. For some reason, thieves and soldiers just don't mix. Besides, they were the ones who had apprehended me from the marketplace earlier, so I feeling an amazing amount of ill will towards them. However, I couldn't quite manage to grasp the fact that they wanted to through me out of the only home I'd ever known. I may have been an orphan, but that didn't mean I had no close friends. I struggled harder as the guards grabbed me, trying to rescue myself, at the same time knowing it was impossible. I raised my eyes to the smiling king. His flat eyes reminded me that I could free myself my deciding to marry his son. Instead, I threw my chin up high and allowed the guards to cart me off.

For a moment I almost screamed that I would do it, that I'd do anything, as long as I didn't have to leave with these leering guards and as long as I could stay in my country. The guards were smiling nastily. "Hello, pretty," one to the left of me sneered, running his hand brusquely over my breasts. I tried to kick at him put he only laughed and stepped from my reach. I tried to fight the men, put they only pulled harder. Finally, a hand descended on my face and all I saw was black.

* * *

When I woke, I knew I had been knocked unconscious, not drugged, which at least meant there wouldn't be any after effects. I lay in the carriage, feigning sleep as I listened to their crude jokes and laughter. Silently, I tested the bonds around my hands and feet, finding them tied securely. I cursed myself for not taking the king more seriously.

They took me to the border of our country. I could see through a crack in the carriage, where a wooden panel was slightly bent out near the floor. Peering through it, I watched as I was moved further and further away from my home. I spent one uncomfortable night there, given only water. By the time we reached the border, in the middle of the King's Forest, I was unhappy, cramped, and furious. I'd had more then enough time lying there and reflecting on what had happened.

Why does my king have to be so cruel? I thought bitterly. And why was fate so mean? I would never had been in this position if I hadn't tried to steal from one of the king's guards, who had my partner - the youth I was in love with - and I thrown into the dungeon. It was only my beauty that - saved - me.

I was brought up of the streets, as a thief. I learned how to use knifes and daggers, how to slip silently into a locked house. My life was everything I had ever wished for; I had never wanted fine clothes or houses. Everything I wanted was within my reach - I just had to steal it first. I was a respected, having made a name for myself after I started pickpocketing at four. One of the things that made be such a perfect thief was one unique to me; I was absolutely gorgeous.

I do not have any false modesty. I've never seen the point in pretending I'm not lovely. I've never acted ashamed that I'm beautiful, or embarrassed because of it, as beautiful girls are supposed to. More to the point, I'm absolutely happy using my looks as a thief. If people are going to be less careful of their moneypouches because I'm 'just a pretty wench' well, I'll let them.

But it was my beauty that was my downfall. My golden eyes, my rich, luxurious red hair. It was when Prince Praithan of my realm Yvonhe decided he wanted me for his own. And yes Praithan is an incredibly handsome boy, with his golden looks, and the first time I saw him, I felt like swooning like the rest of the city, but I felt nothing but disgust when he stopped by my dungeon cell. He had a sick, twisted mind. He was evil, pure evil, much worst then his father who at least had some heart - even if it was cold as ice.

Praithan wanted me - wanted me in marriage no less. However, his father was the king, and so I assumed that I would be dismissed as a peasant and sent back to the streets.

By the Lady, I was wrong.

Banished, I thought bitterly. Where would I go? I would have no reputation in other countries - I would have to start from scratch. I let out a groan, frustrated; it could get no worse then this. I would be a thief of course. Funny, I thought sarcastically, given the choice to be Princess or thief I chose thief. Unfortunately for me, I was beginning to regret that. I was about to be abandoned on foreign soil, apart from the small, close-knit family I had belonged to. For all I knew, Johen was still in the dungeon, and possibly much much worse. My face paled just thinking about what might have happened. We might not have been lovers, but Praithan thought we were, and there were some terrible places to be a captive in this country. The torture methods were unbelievable . . . Not to mention Tari and Dein, who I might never see again if I wasn't able to slip back into Cyri in a few years.

The carriage jerked to an abrupt stop, causing me to slam against one of the walls. I muffled a groan as one of the soldiers hauled me out of the carriage, pushing me up against it. I had expected to just be dumped and left, but evidently I was wrong. The five men closed in on me.

"Now, missy, what have we here . . . "

* * *

I looked grimly after the last two, who had jumped on their horses and rode off rather then face a girl. Beautiful I might be, but they'd obviously decided that my body wasn't worth the fight I put up. My eyes flicked over to the other three men, who lay on the ground, unconscious. One I was sure was dead, and as I looked at them I felt a tossing in my stomach. Falling onto all fours, I started retching uncontrollably, even after there was nothing left in me. My dry heaves filled the silence, until I was finally able to rock back on my heels, wiping my mouth with the remains of my dress. I stumbled up and started walking in the opposite direction the horses had come from, not caring about the men. Killing one was not what had made me uncomfortable; I didn't regret it. What they had done to me before I was able to wound them was what disgusted me.

I hadn't lived my entire life on the streets without learning how to handle people without weapons, especially, large, dangerous men, usually drunk. And I hadn't lived that long with out learning how to hide a weapon or two, which was why I was able to keep a single dagger. No one expects a hairclip to unfold into such a deadly weapon.

Still, it had taken a while before I was free, and I had been humiliated more then I could imagine by then. It could have been worse, I reminded myself as I stumbled along. It would have been, for most girls. After all, a severe beating and groping wasn't half of which most poor girls dealt with. My mouth pulled into a distorted half smile. Most girls hadn't had my skills.

Finally, exhausted, I dropped to the ground, curling into a ball in the fragments of my ripped and muddy dress. Only then did the tears come, stupid as I thought they were. The feeling of helplessness I had first felt wouldn't leave though, nor would the repetitive punches and kicks, like I was a bag to practice of. Thank the Lady and the Lord they hadn't gotten what they really wanted . . . That piece of comfort didn't stop the tears from rolling down my face, though, and it didn't stop me, as I shook with humiliation and hurt, to never let a man touch me again. Finally, eyes still blurry, I let sleep embrace me.

When I woke, I pulled myself together. Years on the street had taught me to keep living no matter what, no matter the cost for life itself was always worth it. I refused to look back on yesterday - though I hardly could not, considering the black, blue and purple bruises already showing all over my flesh, and the broken feeling in my ribs. I hurt, but would go on - I had to.

I washed myself with the morning dew, spreading it all over me, as if it would help. My dress was ruined, as were my underclothes. I frowned gazing upon them, but they were all I had so I put what was left of them back on. The skirt half was in tears and almost completely unhitched from the waist, but I was able to hold it together with one hand. One sleeve was ripped halfway off, but at least it was still on. There was a rip going from the back until my hips. I sighed clutching my clothes to hold them together then setting off for a town. At least both my shoes were in mint condition.

The sun grew higher and with it my spirits. Yes, I had been exiled - but my realm was nothing to like. Yes, I had left behind by only home - but I had no family, or people I could truly call friends. And yes, I had been assaulted, beaten, and almost raped - but as I was always telling other girls, life goes on.

Two days later, starving, dirty, and unpresentable, I reached a farmstead. I stared at it for a long moment, then gave a crooked half smile. Maybe I should try being honest for once; not like they'd believe me anyway.

I headed for the door.