I was angry - and quickly approaching stark-raving mad- when I stormed out on Aiven and the other Seer. Thieving, was I? When was the last time I had done that, excusing a few worthless trinkets? It was a habit I had had my whole life; I couldn't drop it at the snap of someone's fingers. But BACKSTABBING? That was the real reason I was seething. I was NEVER backstabbing. All Aiven had to back that up was because I was a thief.

But even a thief has honor.

"Backstabbing," I muttered to myself, practically running down the stairs and past startled servants, then flinging myself out the door into sunlight. "Who does he think he is?" Scowling darkly, I marched across the courtyard, ignoring everyone else in it. Where was Mariva? There was no one else I wanted to see right now; I just wanted to talk to my friend.

For whatever reason I didn't see the man until he was right in front of me. By than it was too late to slow down, and I barreled right into him. We both fell over, swearing in surprise. His curses were like a lord's; mine like a street rat. "Sorry," I muttered, pulling away from him. He climbed to his feet first and helped me up.

"I didn't know ladies could speak like that," he said in a much pleasanter tone then I would have used had someone knocked me over.

"Ladies can't" I said flatly, in no mood to flirt, no matter how good- looking the man before me was. I gave him a polite smile and started to walk away.

"Wait," he commanded, catching my hand and placing it in the crook of his arm. "I don't even know your name. What if I never see you again?"

Then you'll find another beauty to seduce, I thought dryly, trying to place his familiar voice. I looked him up and down, then could have smacked myself as I saw his now dusty clothes. What if he never saw me again? I thought mockingly. "Oh, I dare say you will," I told the Seer lightly. "In fact, you'll probably be seeing -or speaking - a lot about me for the next few weeks."

"Confident of yourself," Aiven's rival teased. I wondered what he and Aiven had against each other, and wondered again what the "warrior" remark meant. Looking into the smiling bluish-gray eyes of this slightly disheveled Seer, I decided to find out.

"I'm no more sure of myself than you are of yourself, my lord," I said blithely. He gave me a strange look - Seers were addressed as "Lord Seer" or "Excellency" by almost everyone. I pretended not to notice my incorrect form of address, and strolled with him out of the courtyard into another garden.

"I'm supposed to be confident," he said. "After all, I'm a Seer." He looked at me as if I had - somehow - not noticed what he was.

"I know," I said simply, giving him a dazzling smile.

He raised a brow. "You do not sound impressed." He sounded amused.

"Well, I've met a few of your exalted kindred before," i told him, unable to keep some sarcasm from my voice. "Royalty too."

"What royalty?" he asked casually.

"Oh, you know," I began, giving a dismissing wave, "they all blend together after a while," I said mockingly.

"You've wit," he said, pulling me down beside him on a bench. "I like that in a lady."

"Ah, that explains why you took me for a stroll," I quipped, "and here I thought it was my beauty."

He laughed. "What Seers have you met?" He could not quite mask his interest.

I was reluctant to speak of Aiven immediately. "My best friend is betrothed to the Seer of the Bastian Empire," I said lightly, examining my nails.

The youth was impressed. "He speaks highly of her. Lady Mariva of Sontái," he mused, then met my golden eyes. "Then you must be from Sontái as well. I suppose you know the Seer?"

"Doesn't everyone?" I said, my eyes still on his. "Are you friends?"

He smirked slightly. "Are you friends?" he echoed.

I pulled a grimace. "I'd hardly say that," I told him.

"Oh, did he win your heart and break it?" he asked.

I looked at him sharply. He implied that Aiven broke many hearts. I couldn't imagine him as a womanizer; he was too preoccupied with his prophecies. If he broke many hearts (likely) I doubted it was on purpose, or that he noticed, really. Aiven just wasn't like that.

"No," I told the Seer. "I barely know him." I looked at the flowers in front of me for a moment, then gave in to curiosity. "I heard him referred to as a 'warrior.' But he's a Seer." I looked at the young man questioningly. In my experience, people loved to gossip about people they didn't like.

Apparently this man was no different. "Seer Aiven was training to be a knight," the youth said. "He'd risen through the ranks, and didn't he love it. Fame, glory, battles, women," he said disgustedly. "He was one of those thrillseekers - far too young to be on the front line, but doing t anyway. He gained everything he wanted; he seemed invincible. He thought that fighters were far superior to magic-users; Mages, Seers, Healers. HE was the only Seer who was *dismayed* to find out who he was."

I considered this carefully. I was sure there was more to this story then this Seer was telling me. How long had Aiven actually been a Seer? I supposed I'd always rather thought he was a Seer. And I was having a lot of trouble seeing Aiven as a bloodthirsty, fame-seeking warrior. Though he HAD said he wanted to be in the front lines, rather then protecting me. I frowned, and walked over to the flower bush. The Seer followed me with his gave. Meeting it, I asked, "Did he -"

"There you are!" Mariva interrupted, dashing up to me. "By the Lady, Damslae, I've been looking all over the place for you." She smiled impishly.

"Oh, wonderful," I said with a smile. "And why would you do that?"

The Seer looked surprised at Mariva's interruption, but Mariva had her back to him, and had not noticed him. She spoke again before he could say a word. "Corln came looking for me several minutes ago," she said, a little more seriously. "He said you were upset, that Aiven was upset, and you had announced you were leaving." She frowned, concerned. "What's wrong?"

"I'll tell you later," I told her, then took her arm and turned her around. When she saw my companion her eyes winced for a moment, before she masked her face in lady-like demeanor. She smiled slightly, raising her head regally.

"Lady Mariva," the Seer said, also appearing slightly surprised. He took her hand, standing and bowing over it.

"Lord Seer Tyron," Mariva said, regaining her hand and curtsying. "'Tis a pleasure to see you again." She glanced from him to me, her eyes worried.

"The pleasure is all mine," he said politely. Mariva smiled blandly, then turned back to me.

"What happened?" she asked, concerned. "Corln was worried too, and he never worried. He told me to find you and to entreat you to stay." Her mouth quirked slightly, and we exchanged amused glances. "He said Aiven was less than tactful."

"He was downright insulting," I moaned. "You have no idea you tempting it was to punch him."

"And you resisted?" Mariva asked in mock-shock.

"Barely," I said seriously. "I just want to leave."

"No you don't," Mariva contradicted, and I laughed. Truthfully, I didn't know where I'd go if I left.

"Why do Corln and Aiven care where you go?" the Seer Tyron asked, looking towards me with a frown. "I thought you didn't know Aiven that well."

"I said I didn't get along with him," I corrected, not quite sure what I had said, or caring.

"Oh, think a moment, Tyron," Mariva said, her lady-mask slipping. "Who do you think she is? She's beautiful - she's smart - she knows Aiven - make a guess."

Comprehension started to dawn on Tyron's face, and Mariva smiled at him brightly. "Allow me to introduce her - The Princess Laeliena, daughter of the Eternal Lah'nayin."

Laughing softly, she took my arm and pulled me along with her as we left the garden. Try as I might, I couldn't quite keep the smile off my face as we left one stunned Seer behind.

*************************************************

We sat in contemplative silence in Mariva's room, after we had spoken of everything that had happened since we parted this morning. Mariva and Tullon had been given rooms in the foreign royalty wing, and Mariva had stayed there all day until Corln came.

Corln . . . I hadn't forgotten he, the Bastian Seer, was Mariva's betrothed, but when I was listening to him talk to Aiven and the other Seers earlier, it hadn't clicked Now I tried to bring his face to my mind, the man Mariva would marry - and whom she loved.

He was Aiven's height and Aiven's age, but I had been too angry with Aiven to notice much else. I had a vague recollection of dark hair and almond shaped blue eyes, set in a pale, aristocratic face.

"I wonder if Aiven'll apologize," Mariva mused from where she lay sprawled on one couch. I lay on one opposite hers, idly braiding half my hair.

"Aiven? Apologize?" I scoffed. "He'll probably expect *me* to apologize for eavesdropping."

"But he ought to apologize, *Princess*. After all, he needs your help." We giggled. "Oh, and I meant to ask you," Mariva continued, "Do you mind what I call you? Will it bother you if I continue to call you Damslae?" She met my eyes, and though her voice was casual, her gaze was serious. "It's just - Princess Laeliena has always been a legend to me, a tale I've known forever - except for her name, as most people don't know that - and, well, I just have a hard time matching her to you." She frowned. "That sounded incredibly stupid, considering you ARE her." She sighed. "The point is, can I just call you Damslae?"

I nodded. "But being a legend - royalty - I'm not really, am I?" I asked, confused. "From what I've heard - not that anyone will actually *explain* anything - the country that I'm, um, princess of is a little . . . non-existent?" It had sounded like I would have to gather all the citizens myself and fight a war to gain my kingdom. I didn't even know what the war would really be about, or who it would be against. And thinking of myself as a princess - a REAL princess, with a kingdom, and duties, as opposed to an empty title - was a little beyond me right now.

"I don't know," Mariva said slowly. "Tullon said something about you making a debut as the Princess . . . Because you ARE royalty," she said earnestly, "as royal as Tullon, or my uncle, or Mage-King Sair. You hold the same rank as any other princess; higher, considering your kingdom and heritage. And you'll be presented as a true princess. As for your country, Lahtorli," and now Mariva's voice took on a more confident, knowledgeable tone, "it was invaded thousands of years ago, by a blackened Seer and his army. The people of it were driven out, though some may have taken refuge in hidden caves and places of the country. Others fled to different lands, though they- and their descendants - retained a mind-link with Lahtorli. All the citizens were elves, fairies, and other magical beings. Very few humans lived there before it was conquered - not absorbed into other countries. It is still it's own country, but subdued completely."

"And you know this all from your mind link with Corln?" Mariva nodded. I sighed. "I wish I knew all of this already. I though the fairies and everyone had their own kingdom, which the Lady protected from Before her father's destruction. I thought it was one of the three places she saved."

Mariva stared at me for a moment as if she wasn't quite sure what to make of my words. Then she started to giggle. "Lahtorli IS that kingdom, silly. Where all the fairies live. It was just taken over after that."

I stared right back at her, mouth dropping open. "Wait - that's *my* kingdom? Mine? With fairies and elves and . . . magic? But I'm just . . . oh, Lady."

Mariva nodded. "For the last several millennia, the citizens have been scattered throughout all the continents, mixing with ordinary humans. Corln says they don't like to make a fuss over it with the non-magics, and don't let it be widely known about losing their country. Everyone knows about the legendary Lahtorli being lost; most just don't connect it with the magic-beings home."

I looked down at my hands, not really seeing them; instead I was seeing the stained glass windows in Yvonhe's capital Cyri, the windows in the church that showed the Lady saving the three places. Silently, I mouthed the ritual words that told of where she had saved; the mountaintop of Mt. Havoni, the ancient city of Canaion, in Bast, and helping the fairies, the fairies ancient homeland.

Lahtorli - MY Lahtorli - was "the fairies ancient homeland."

"If I'm the princess of fairies and elves . . ." I said slowly, "If I'm the daughter of the Eternal Lah'nayin . . . am I human?" I met Mariva's serious dark brown eyes, which shone softly.

"I have no idea."

**********************************

I didn't see Aiven until dinner; then again, I didn't look for him. He sent a note to Mariva's room saying the six of us - though, typically Aiven, he didn't specify whom that included - would be eating privately.

I didn't change my dress for dinner, which Mariva told me would be a subtle insult. (Then we laughed. Subtle? When was I ever subtle?" I didn't really feel like putting on another dress anyways, even though I had in Sontái. Besides, if I was able to avoid taking the time to change, AND insult Aiven at the same time, all the better.

I couldn't help wondering who took care of these masses of clothing that the court ladies wore all the time. We left the out at night and they were returned to our closets in the morning. Taking care of these hundred of dresses seemed like a very boring job.

And that was my profound though for the day, I thought as Mariva and I proceeded downstairs in are slightly dusty traveling clothes, as she hadn't changed either. The servant leading us through the unfamiliar castle brought us to a chamber with a round mahogany table and chairs. A crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling painted in a rich red tone that matched the carpet. There were four exits, I noted. Five if I counted the windows.

Four young men stood as we entered. If Aiven was irritated at our dress - if he even noticed - he gave no sign. Unlike this afternoon, he was not wearing formal Seer robes, but instead a brown velvet (chrushed velvet) britches and a gold tunic. Tullon stood beside him, also dressed informally, though he did wear his circlet.

There was no way anyone was going to make me wear a circlet.

Corln, the third person at the round table, only had eyes for Mariva, and I smiled slightly when I saw her devoted gaze locked with his. The fourth person I did not recognize; he was older than the previous three, about twenty-five.

"May I present," Corln said to the stranger, "my betrothed, the Lady Mariva of Orlask, niece of the King of Sontái." The stranger took her hand and politely bowed over it.

Then Aiven stepped forward. His face was as blank as mine, and I had no way of knowing if he was apologetic. I doubted it. His eyes and voice suggested otherwise. "Allow me to present Princess Laeliena of Lahtorli, daughter of the Eternal Lah'nayin." No one at the table so much as blinked. "I don't believe you've - formally - met Lord Seer Corln?" The Bastian Seer took my hand, casting a glance at Mariva, as if looking for reassurance that I would not blow up at him. He brushed the air above my hand with his lips. "And this is Lord Seer Lauten," Aiven said, who also bowed over my hand. We carefully took our seats, silent as the maids who served our first course, then arranged the rest of the food buffet style on a long, narrow table. They then left the room, closing the doors behind them. I cast a desperate glance towards them as if they were my last hope of escape. Five ways to leave, I reminded myself. They were all seeming like good choices in the uncomfortable silence right now; even the window.

"I would like to speak openly." Aiven's voice cut through the tension, but didn't dissipate any of it. I was not using his "open" voice. He wasn't even using his friendly or pleasant voice. He was sounding more Seer-ish, less Aiven-ish.

And openly? I wondered nervously. What exactly did "openly" entitle? He could be actually be referring to speaking openly, but then again, he could mean *Court* openly, which was an entirely different thing. All the men looked so serious, I thought even more nervously. I wasn't sure if I had EVER seen Tullon look serious.

"Your Highness," Seer Corln said, and with a jolt I realized he was addressing me, not the Sontáin mage-prince. "On behalf of all the Seers, I would like to entreat you to stay and learn about our goals and the things we hope you to assist us with, before you make a decision to leave."

So they had taken me seriously when I threatened to leave, I thought dryly. And where exactly did they expect me to go if I didn't stay with them?

All the three youths were now giving Aiven pointed looks; it was obviously his turn to speak in this little tableau. He took a deep breath, and looked straight at me. "I would like to apologize for the words I spoke ill of you earlier," he said formally. "I was unjust in my speech and apologize sincerely for any of the hurt my cruel words may have inflicted." The table held its collective breath, waiting to see if I would accept Aiven's apology. I watched Aiven, who was sitting stiffly in his hair, now unable to meet my eye.

"If I may speak openly?" I asked, my tone slightly mocking though I had not intended it to be so. I watched my finger make circular movements around the rim of my wineglass, but was aware when the young men nodded.

"I think the Lord Seer Aiven and I should talk openly - somewhere else," I said sweetly. With that, I stood up and strode out of the room, my slippers making no sound on the carpeted floor. I caught sight of Mariva's amused, approving expression, Tullon's raised eyebrow, and the alarm on three of the Seer's faces. I didn't look at Aiven.

I pushed the door I had entered from open, glad to make use of one of the exits (especially one that wasn't the window) and walked out without looking to see if Aiven followed.

He did - a second later, the doors opened again and he strode out. His blank face façade was replaced with the more familiar and comforting angry, irritating look.

"Was I not sincere enough?" he snapped, amber eyes blazing. They were looking a little less brown a little more honey-gold and closer to my eye color then normal. It was unsettling. "Not heartfelt enough? Perhaps you'd like me to get down on one knee and beg for your forgiveness."

"There's no need to be petty," I replied, stung. "Maybe you could have explained *why* you said those things. Though I must say, your prettily delivered speech didn't strike me as sincere. Tough how we were expected to speak openly with so many people around . . ." I shook my head. "Why did you say that about me?" I asked quietly, unable to help myself, turning away. "It . . . it did hurt, Aiven, alright? It hurt," I blurted out.

Backstabber.

I turned around soon enough to see Aiven shove both hands through his hair, then lock them behind his back. "I *am* sorry," he told me. "What I said was . . . unacceptable. I have no excuse."

I stared at him, incredulous, my hurt fading away for a moment as he stared at the ground. "Are you apologizing? Actually taking the blame?" I demanded of him.

He scowled. "Is that so impossible to believe? I've apologized before."

"Um . . . No."

He sighed. "Why were you there in the first place?"

"I wanted to talk to you." I said defensively. "I wanted to know where Mariva was."

"And you had to *hide under a table* to see me?"

"You were talking about me! I have the right to know what people are saying about me."

"Do you?"

"You know, that would be cryptic if it wasn't so overused."

Aiven sighed - probably exasperated with me, as usual, then to my complete surprise walked straight towards me. I stepped backwards, banging against the wall. Aiven took another step forwards, leaving a foot between us and taking my hands in his. "I am truly, truly sorry," he told me. I looked away from his piercing amber eyes, but he gently raised my chin with one hand. "I don't apologize often," he told me. "I don't usually apologize even when I'm wrong. But I honestly did not mean what I said. There were no grounds to call you any of those things. I let my frustration and anger with other things concerning you - which are NOT your fault - color my words. I should not have called you a betrayer. And I have never - never - thought of you as backstabbing."

I sniffed weakly, feeling like an absolute idiot. "I'm *not* backstabbing," I muttered. I bit my lip. Aiven annoyed with me I could understand. Aiven angry, sarcastic, arrogant or reasonable I could deal with. But Aiven *sorry?*

I didn't want to cry. It's not that I despise girls who cry - I don't - but that if I cried over every sad thing in my life I'd barely have time to be happy. Not to mention that this wasn't particularly tragic. But all the feelings that I had locked inside, all the hurt, angry feelings, were coming undone as Aiven stood in front of me, wide eyes open and completely sorry. I sniffed again, blinking rapidly. And if Aiven hadn't whispered, "I wish I could make you feel better," and if he hadn't brushed a strand of hair out of my face, I probably wouldn't of.

As it was, a few tears leaked out from the corners of my eyes before I was able to control myself again. Gently, with a touch like fairy wings, Aiven wiped away the tears. For a moment then, neither of us moved, his fingers resting against my cheek. Then we both leaned forwards, lips touching softly sweetly. His hand caressed my face as I wove my fingers through his hair. Our kiss deepened as we leaned into each other, letting go of all the ill emotion that had followed us all day. I didn't ever want to leave the circle of his arms.

A loud noise sounded outside, and we drew back startled. We locked are hands behind our backs like mirror images. Aiven opened his mouth, then snapped it shut. For an instant, he looked vulnerable, for lack of a better word. His mouth pulled up in an uncertain half-smile. My throat didn't seem to be working; all I could concentrate on were the hundreds of butterflies and Aiven's handsome, familiar face. I licked my lips nervously, and his eyes darted down to them for a second before he jerked them upwards. He throat didn't seem to be working well either. I glanced towards the door, wondering if it would be cowardly to flee. I took a small step towards it.

Aiven studied my face, a hesitant, almost frightened look on his. Then he turned and strode quickly across the room to a different door. He glanced back over his shoulder a moment before he left and whispered, "I'm sorry."

I stood, frozen, staring at the swinging doorway. Sorry? For what? For calling me cruel, hurtful names?

Or for kissing me?

I pressed my hand softly to my mouth, savoring the feeling of Aiven's lips against mine. Then I, too, fled the room.

**************************************************************************** ***************

Yay! They kissed! Like you didn't notice. Okay, just incase you didn't realize, the necklace Aiven gave Laeliena two chapters ago was the same one ELLA'S MOTHER owned. Oh, and I have QUESTIONS:

* What character should I develop more? (Tullon gets more stage time in the next chapter)

* And what other things do you want me to work on more?

Thank you! And Review!

(There are some inconsistencies with this chapter about the history of Laeliena's chapter when compared to stuff I've written in earlier chapters. I don't know if any of you will REMEMBER that stuff, but that's okay, 'cause it's changed now. Just go with the most recent things I write. Thanks!)