Dancing had always been a talent of mine. But at this time, this ball, and
this moment, I was not in the mood to dance. When I looked at all the
couples dancing the gavotte in the ball, I didn't see myself dancing with
them, let alone dance with someone. Maybe it was because I didn't see the
point of dancing when I had already showcased myself as a singer. It was
not because my head had grown because of applauds (although I must admit
that it was rather flattering) but it was because I didn't feel like it.
When you dance, you dance with someone you actually wanted to dance with,
not with someone who happened to be available. Here in this ball, I
anticipated a dance from no one. Indeed, I expected someone to ask, but no,
not anticipate. These were two different things.
I would rather trade my grace for Mother's clumsiness (well, she was!) just to have someone I actually wanted to dance with. Mother was not the best dancer but every time she danced with Father, she would be more than graceful: she was ethereal with an ecstatic smile on her face. Father was already a great dancer, but then of course, he was much better with Mother. It surprised me how much my parents complimented each other in one way or another.
Someone asked me for a dance. I accepted. Strange, was I? I didn't have anything do.
It was a gavotte. In the middle of the dance, I twined arms with other people. Eventually, I ended twining my arms with the person I knew I abhorred when I was young, but not quite so sure now. It must have been a pleasant surprise to be twining arms with Tristan, who asked why a million times just to annoy me.
We just smiled at each other, an indifferent acknowledgement to past acquaintances. But deep inside, I was frantic. For most of the time, I knew why I was in some state, but right now, I haven't the faintest idea why I was so affected with his presence.
When the dance ended, I went to one corner and watched.
"Catleya."
I turned and saw him. I wasn't surprised. I knew that this moment was bound to happen. I knew that we would have to confront each other once again.
"Tristan," I replied. "I was expecting this."
He shrugged his shoulders. "I too, except that I expected that you would be the one approaching me."
I smirked. "It's not my fault if you ruined your own expectations."
He ignored me, like before. "I didn't expect you to turn out like this, though."
"Same here. Five years is a long time interval. But then, of course, I don't know if you truly did change."
He laughed. "And you are still impertinent."
"And you are still a prejudice." I eyed him squarely.
"Five years, Catleya, and you've only changed in appearance. If you weren't so contemptuous, then I might have said you're almost perfect, from what I've heard," he grinned. I knew what he was talking about; I was not daft. He must have heard of the ostensible "Flower of Kyrria" or Olaro ana Akyrria" or whatever kind of translation he had come across to during his travels. Well then, he was mistaken.
"What you've heard is false. Tristan, I know all to well that you didn't believe a word of it when you heard. And mind you, I am not exactly proud of that," I answered.
He nodded. "I did didn't believe of it when I first heard it in-of all the places-Porsta." Porsta was a far eastern kingdom. I understood why he was so shocked. Porsta was basically cut from almost all communication, considering that it was established in a plateau. The news reaching there was indeed impressive. Though not flattering for me. "And then I would have to hear it in the other kingdoms as well. Although, I wasn't convinced, I suppose I should be now."
I glared at him. "Where are you coming at? I was trusting that you wouldn't succumb to this unbelievable plague."
He laughed. "You want that plague to spread."
My face must have looked so fierce. "How dare you do that? To judge me once again, and to try me without proper approach. At least I have changed in mind and judgment, whilst you didn't."
I turned on the heel of my shoe and left him there. Of all the types of people in the world, I disliked chauvinistic type. It didn't matter whether he was handsome or courageous. Frankly, I thought he was so ungallant even though people say he was. He wasn't in the position to tell me things. He wasn't worthy enough to actually give me a tirade. And what did he care anyway? The best thing that we could at least do for both our sake was to ignore each other and be indifferent. If we hated each other, Kyrria and Ayortha might be drag in, no matter how narrow the odds were.
I whispered a curse under my breath. It was not my character to use such colorful language, but then, who was there to listen? I walked to one of the balconies of the hall.
The air was cool and refreshing. The scent of the temple flowers was in the wind. The wisterias, cypresses, and willows subtly swayed with the breeze.
This moment could be so perfect if only Tristan didn't follow me.
"What do you want?" I snapped.
I couldn't really see his face, but then, I could feel the remorse from him. I supposed he came here to apologize.
"I'm sorry. I guess I shouldn't have said that," he said. But I could hear some hesitation from him.
"Guess?" I asked him. "There is no room for guesses."
He shrugged his shoulders. "Do you always have to be this way?"
"What?"
"So assertive and pushy."
"I'm not."
"You are. You deny it."
I sighed. "If I am then I am. I don't care. And having you care is the least of my concerns." I leaned on the balcony.
He came beside me. "Let me say something first." He cleared his throat. "I propose a treaty. We won't argue or fight like before, unless we would want to embarrass ourselves. We will start anew, as if we just met each other. Do you agree?"
I glanced at him. He seemed sincere with this "treaty". Yes, I did want a treaty. I did want to start anew. I felt that he was someone different now, someone actually worth knowing. And nothing would happen if we would continue arguing, even if we just started. "I agree. We got of in a bad start when we were kids."
"Fine," he replied.
"Fine."
~*~
We kept our treaty well. We treated each other as if we just knew each other, and I must say that it surprised me that we got along rather well. Arguments were not avoidable because everyone argues, but we didn't argue in such a way that we insulted each other. We argued like.intelligent people, I supposed. We didn't fight, certainly. If we did, then there would be no treaty. Pretty soon, we were actually enjoying each other's company! It surprised me also how much he had changed. He was no longer the imp I claimed him to be. I realized that he was now a more reasonable and intelligent person than before. He didn't use his intellect to insult people like before. I came to realize that repartees were natural to him, although it must be leveled down.
Both our mothers noticed our friendliness towards each other. Aunt Vanessa clearly showed her delight over this. She kept on telling me that it was good that we weren't torturing each other with juvenile pranks. She was also glad that we weren't indifferent to each other. Mother wasn't as brazen as Aunt Vanessa. While Tristan and I were speaking with each other (yes, we weren't screaming out our lungs) on one occasion, I caught a sly smile on Mother. Later that day, she spoke with me. She said that she was pleased with me. "I wasn't very anxious of being an arbitrator of your fights like before," she said with relief.
Ayortha had never been so welcoming now that my archenemy was now something close to a friend. But inside, I was still troubled and rather sad. Owen was still not here.
Day after day, I wondered where he was. Surely, he got the letter of Mother. Surely, he wouldn't reject the invitation. Owen liked going to Ayortha. He got along well with Tristan before, although I didn't. He also enjoyed going around Ayortha. And certainly he wouldn't want to let the Sings pass! He loved listening to the voices of Ayorthaians.
On night, my parents called me. The maid who called me said it was imperative that I speak with them now. We were in the library. Mother was sitting in one of the armchairs, face ashen. Father was standing up and pacing furiously. He constantly ran his hand through his hair.
The last time I saw them like this was when I was sick to death with a fever. I was still thirteen, and a plague was sweeping across Kyrria. I was one of the unfortunate ones to have gotten it. The symptoms were sore throat, sneezing, and fever. My fever was higher than all the others affected. Everyone thought I was about to die. But thankfully, a healer from a distant land came. She knew the cure to this plague. She treated me first, and after two days, I was well. I didn't even see her face or thanked her. When I was well enough to stand, she was no longer in Kyrria.
But my family was affected. Father would come, and he tried with all his powers to find someone who could heal me. Owen was there beside me too. He made me laugh when I was sick. He said, "Laughter is the best medicine so keep on laughing even though it doesn't make sense!" Mother was constantly by my side, whispering prayers. Sometimes, she would just curse herself for not being such a good mother. What scared her most was that she lost her own mother to a sickness. She was not about to lose me too, she said.
"What's wrong?" I asked.
Mother looked at me with such worry that it made me sick with anxiety too. Father couldn't even look at me. It made me relive the days of my fever.
"Catleya, promise me that you will stay calm," he said to me.
"Why?"
"Please, Catleya," Mother implored. "I don't want you to worry like me." She smiled weakly. "It is not healthy." I realized that this was something crucial, something so big that it could make my worriless mother disturbed. She was sitting in the armchair, hand on her mouth.
"Who else knows of this?" I asked.
"For now, the Ayorthaian royal family. I don't want you to worry also. It's just that.Owen will return, safe and sound. But the fact of the matter is," Father paused, "the group of knights Owen was traveling with was assaulted."
My breath was caught in my throat. "But.where is he?" I asked. I could feel a sob tearing my throat, wanting to break free. My heart was already panicking, beating faster and faster, and cold dread was in my stomach.
Father came to me and placed a hand on my shoulder. Only then did I realize that I was shaking. "Do not worry, Catleya. He is coming soon. He is now in Bast. In three days he will be here."
"Who did it?" My voice was void and tuneless.
He shook his head. "No one knows. They escaped before they were captured. Yes, there were about two held captive, but they killed themselves before they were interrogated."
No matter how many comforting words Father said to me, I still couldn't get the worry out of my head. What if they followed him to Bast? What if some poison was planted in his drink? What if they come to Bast to kill him? Involuntarily, my mind conjured up possible dangers. He could be poisoned, strangled, stabbed, even trampled to death! So many things could happen to my dear brother! Bast was not a safe place! And what if there was a traitor amidst him?
I was still blank with worry when I went out of the library. Father sent me out. He wanted me to go to my room and rest. He must have seen my face grow pale and empty. This was usually my facial expression when I was distressed. My face would feel cold, and I would cease showing my emotions. I would seem as if on a trance, as if I was blank, when in truth I really wasn't.
When I came out, Mother said to Father something that wasn't intended for my ears.
"Char, it is good that we had not told her that Owen was almost killed." Her voice was grief-stricken.
I uttered a small cry. My back was on the wall and I was sobbing softly. He was in danger! Owen meant so much to me. He was my brother, and even though some brothers and sisters didn't get along well, we did. We knew each other's secrets. We knew each other's weaknesses and strengths. When Father and Mother were angry with me because of my brash actions, I came to him for comfort. He was always there for me, and if he were to be gone suddenly, I wouldn't take it. I understood why Father didn't tell me this. He knew that I would be more frantic than Mother, knowing that I was closer to Owen than any other member of the family. He knew that I might ride all the way to Bast just to ensure his safety.
I breathed in and out. Calm down, I told myself. Calm down.
Owen could take care of himself. He was strong, he was great. He would return, even if there were people.who were trying to kill him.
But I had this troubling feeling. Somehow, I knew that this was inevitable. Somehow, I was expecting this. I tried to remember how I came to this, and I came to a memory that had happened days ago. It was when I fainted. I immediately looked at the ring on my finger. It was still there, a gleaming silver band with the emerald with an iridescent green flame.
I shook my head. Of course not. Certainly not.
I walked all alone in the corridor. The sound of my footsteps bounced back from the walls. I was suddenly feeling cold for some reason.
I passed by one of the rooms. Inside, I could hear cries of surprise. It was a feminine cry. I realized that it was Aunt Vanessa. I leaned at the wall and strained my ears to listen. The people inside were speaking in Ayorthaian. I thanked Mother for teaching me this language.
"It can't be," Aunt Vanessa was saying. "Are you sure, Orono? Are you sure?"
"Yes," he replied. "A letter was received from Owen himself, stating his circumstances."
It was now Tristan's voice who spoke. "Father, we must send people to Bast now, to accompany him on his way back. Who knows what else could happen?"
If I was inside the same room, I could have embraced Tristan for suggesting that. Yes! Send more people so he would safer!
I was so intent it listening; it didn't matter to me that eavesdropping was discouraged.
"Papa." a soft voice said. I had to strain my ears harder to hear her. I realized that it was Adara. "Someone is listening."
My jaw dropped. How could she know I was just outside the door? I quickly regained my senses and ran away from the door. I didn't go to my room. I went instead to the gardens.
I was in the Orchid garden again. And I was also gazing at the cattleya.
I could hear footsteps coming my way. I turned around and saw Tristan.
"You were the one who was listening," he accused me.
Unfortunately, I wasn't in the mood to deny my actions. "Yes, I was. So?"
"Nothing. It's understandable anyway." He stopped. "And don't get me wrong. I'm also worried for your brother."
"Of course you were," I scoffed. "I heard you."
"Your tone suggests that I shouldn't have," he bluntly told me.
I suddenly wanted to bite back my tongue. He was right. My tone seemed to be ungrateful of his actions, when in truth, I really was. "I'm sorry. It's just that.I'm sick with worry right now. You don't know how Owen means to me. He is my brother."
"I do know," he replied. "That's why I told my father that."
I stared at him, baffled. He suggested that because he knew Owen meant a lot to me? It didn't make sense.
"Thank you."
~*~
It's been AGES! I KNOW! It's just that I am so busy!! I have trainings on
weekdays and debates on weekends!
And our final exams are nearing!!! X-(
I could die right now.
I'm sorry if this chapter isn't as good as all the others! It's just that I
crammed all this in one day just so I won't keep you waiting!!
But then, I hope you like it!!
Thanks so much to all the reviewers!! You make this fic a success!!
ÜÜÜÜÜÜÜÜÜÜÜÜ
I would rather trade my grace for Mother's clumsiness (well, she was!) just to have someone I actually wanted to dance with. Mother was not the best dancer but every time she danced with Father, she would be more than graceful: she was ethereal with an ecstatic smile on her face. Father was already a great dancer, but then of course, he was much better with Mother. It surprised me how much my parents complimented each other in one way or another.
Someone asked me for a dance. I accepted. Strange, was I? I didn't have anything do.
It was a gavotte. In the middle of the dance, I twined arms with other people. Eventually, I ended twining my arms with the person I knew I abhorred when I was young, but not quite so sure now. It must have been a pleasant surprise to be twining arms with Tristan, who asked why a million times just to annoy me.
We just smiled at each other, an indifferent acknowledgement to past acquaintances. But deep inside, I was frantic. For most of the time, I knew why I was in some state, but right now, I haven't the faintest idea why I was so affected with his presence.
When the dance ended, I went to one corner and watched.
"Catleya."
I turned and saw him. I wasn't surprised. I knew that this moment was bound to happen. I knew that we would have to confront each other once again.
"Tristan," I replied. "I was expecting this."
He shrugged his shoulders. "I too, except that I expected that you would be the one approaching me."
I smirked. "It's not my fault if you ruined your own expectations."
He ignored me, like before. "I didn't expect you to turn out like this, though."
"Same here. Five years is a long time interval. But then, of course, I don't know if you truly did change."
He laughed. "And you are still impertinent."
"And you are still a prejudice." I eyed him squarely.
"Five years, Catleya, and you've only changed in appearance. If you weren't so contemptuous, then I might have said you're almost perfect, from what I've heard," he grinned. I knew what he was talking about; I was not daft. He must have heard of the ostensible "Flower of Kyrria" or Olaro ana Akyrria" or whatever kind of translation he had come across to during his travels. Well then, he was mistaken.
"What you've heard is false. Tristan, I know all to well that you didn't believe a word of it when you heard. And mind you, I am not exactly proud of that," I answered.
He nodded. "I did didn't believe of it when I first heard it in-of all the places-Porsta." Porsta was a far eastern kingdom. I understood why he was so shocked. Porsta was basically cut from almost all communication, considering that it was established in a plateau. The news reaching there was indeed impressive. Though not flattering for me. "And then I would have to hear it in the other kingdoms as well. Although, I wasn't convinced, I suppose I should be now."
I glared at him. "Where are you coming at? I was trusting that you wouldn't succumb to this unbelievable plague."
He laughed. "You want that plague to spread."
My face must have looked so fierce. "How dare you do that? To judge me once again, and to try me without proper approach. At least I have changed in mind and judgment, whilst you didn't."
I turned on the heel of my shoe and left him there. Of all the types of people in the world, I disliked chauvinistic type. It didn't matter whether he was handsome or courageous. Frankly, I thought he was so ungallant even though people say he was. He wasn't in the position to tell me things. He wasn't worthy enough to actually give me a tirade. And what did he care anyway? The best thing that we could at least do for both our sake was to ignore each other and be indifferent. If we hated each other, Kyrria and Ayortha might be drag in, no matter how narrow the odds were.
I whispered a curse under my breath. It was not my character to use such colorful language, but then, who was there to listen? I walked to one of the balconies of the hall.
The air was cool and refreshing. The scent of the temple flowers was in the wind. The wisterias, cypresses, and willows subtly swayed with the breeze.
This moment could be so perfect if only Tristan didn't follow me.
"What do you want?" I snapped.
I couldn't really see his face, but then, I could feel the remorse from him. I supposed he came here to apologize.
"I'm sorry. I guess I shouldn't have said that," he said. But I could hear some hesitation from him.
"Guess?" I asked him. "There is no room for guesses."
He shrugged his shoulders. "Do you always have to be this way?"
"What?"
"So assertive and pushy."
"I'm not."
"You are. You deny it."
I sighed. "If I am then I am. I don't care. And having you care is the least of my concerns." I leaned on the balcony.
He came beside me. "Let me say something first." He cleared his throat. "I propose a treaty. We won't argue or fight like before, unless we would want to embarrass ourselves. We will start anew, as if we just met each other. Do you agree?"
I glanced at him. He seemed sincere with this "treaty". Yes, I did want a treaty. I did want to start anew. I felt that he was someone different now, someone actually worth knowing. And nothing would happen if we would continue arguing, even if we just started. "I agree. We got of in a bad start when we were kids."
"Fine," he replied.
"Fine."
~*~
We kept our treaty well. We treated each other as if we just knew each other, and I must say that it surprised me that we got along rather well. Arguments were not avoidable because everyone argues, but we didn't argue in such a way that we insulted each other. We argued like.intelligent people, I supposed. We didn't fight, certainly. If we did, then there would be no treaty. Pretty soon, we were actually enjoying each other's company! It surprised me also how much he had changed. He was no longer the imp I claimed him to be. I realized that he was now a more reasonable and intelligent person than before. He didn't use his intellect to insult people like before. I came to realize that repartees were natural to him, although it must be leveled down.
Both our mothers noticed our friendliness towards each other. Aunt Vanessa clearly showed her delight over this. She kept on telling me that it was good that we weren't torturing each other with juvenile pranks. She was also glad that we weren't indifferent to each other. Mother wasn't as brazen as Aunt Vanessa. While Tristan and I were speaking with each other (yes, we weren't screaming out our lungs) on one occasion, I caught a sly smile on Mother. Later that day, she spoke with me. She said that she was pleased with me. "I wasn't very anxious of being an arbitrator of your fights like before," she said with relief.
Ayortha had never been so welcoming now that my archenemy was now something close to a friend. But inside, I was still troubled and rather sad. Owen was still not here.
Day after day, I wondered where he was. Surely, he got the letter of Mother. Surely, he wouldn't reject the invitation. Owen liked going to Ayortha. He got along well with Tristan before, although I didn't. He also enjoyed going around Ayortha. And certainly he wouldn't want to let the Sings pass! He loved listening to the voices of Ayorthaians.
On night, my parents called me. The maid who called me said it was imperative that I speak with them now. We were in the library. Mother was sitting in one of the armchairs, face ashen. Father was standing up and pacing furiously. He constantly ran his hand through his hair.
The last time I saw them like this was when I was sick to death with a fever. I was still thirteen, and a plague was sweeping across Kyrria. I was one of the unfortunate ones to have gotten it. The symptoms were sore throat, sneezing, and fever. My fever was higher than all the others affected. Everyone thought I was about to die. But thankfully, a healer from a distant land came. She knew the cure to this plague. She treated me first, and after two days, I was well. I didn't even see her face or thanked her. When I was well enough to stand, she was no longer in Kyrria.
But my family was affected. Father would come, and he tried with all his powers to find someone who could heal me. Owen was there beside me too. He made me laugh when I was sick. He said, "Laughter is the best medicine so keep on laughing even though it doesn't make sense!" Mother was constantly by my side, whispering prayers. Sometimes, she would just curse herself for not being such a good mother. What scared her most was that she lost her own mother to a sickness. She was not about to lose me too, she said.
"What's wrong?" I asked.
Mother looked at me with such worry that it made me sick with anxiety too. Father couldn't even look at me. It made me relive the days of my fever.
"Catleya, promise me that you will stay calm," he said to me.
"Why?"
"Please, Catleya," Mother implored. "I don't want you to worry like me." She smiled weakly. "It is not healthy." I realized that this was something crucial, something so big that it could make my worriless mother disturbed. She was sitting in the armchair, hand on her mouth.
"Who else knows of this?" I asked.
"For now, the Ayorthaian royal family. I don't want you to worry also. It's just that.Owen will return, safe and sound. But the fact of the matter is," Father paused, "the group of knights Owen was traveling with was assaulted."
My breath was caught in my throat. "But.where is he?" I asked. I could feel a sob tearing my throat, wanting to break free. My heart was already panicking, beating faster and faster, and cold dread was in my stomach.
Father came to me and placed a hand on my shoulder. Only then did I realize that I was shaking. "Do not worry, Catleya. He is coming soon. He is now in Bast. In three days he will be here."
"Who did it?" My voice was void and tuneless.
He shook his head. "No one knows. They escaped before they were captured. Yes, there were about two held captive, but they killed themselves before they were interrogated."
No matter how many comforting words Father said to me, I still couldn't get the worry out of my head. What if they followed him to Bast? What if some poison was planted in his drink? What if they come to Bast to kill him? Involuntarily, my mind conjured up possible dangers. He could be poisoned, strangled, stabbed, even trampled to death! So many things could happen to my dear brother! Bast was not a safe place! And what if there was a traitor amidst him?
I was still blank with worry when I went out of the library. Father sent me out. He wanted me to go to my room and rest. He must have seen my face grow pale and empty. This was usually my facial expression when I was distressed. My face would feel cold, and I would cease showing my emotions. I would seem as if on a trance, as if I was blank, when in truth I really wasn't.
When I came out, Mother said to Father something that wasn't intended for my ears.
"Char, it is good that we had not told her that Owen was almost killed." Her voice was grief-stricken.
I uttered a small cry. My back was on the wall and I was sobbing softly. He was in danger! Owen meant so much to me. He was my brother, and even though some brothers and sisters didn't get along well, we did. We knew each other's secrets. We knew each other's weaknesses and strengths. When Father and Mother were angry with me because of my brash actions, I came to him for comfort. He was always there for me, and if he were to be gone suddenly, I wouldn't take it. I understood why Father didn't tell me this. He knew that I would be more frantic than Mother, knowing that I was closer to Owen than any other member of the family. He knew that I might ride all the way to Bast just to ensure his safety.
I breathed in and out. Calm down, I told myself. Calm down.
Owen could take care of himself. He was strong, he was great. He would return, even if there were people.who were trying to kill him.
But I had this troubling feeling. Somehow, I knew that this was inevitable. Somehow, I was expecting this. I tried to remember how I came to this, and I came to a memory that had happened days ago. It was when I fainted. I immediately looked at the ring on my finger. It was still there, a gleaming silver band with the emerald with an iridescent green flame.
I shook my head. Of course not. Certainly not.
I walked all alone in the corridor. The sound of my footsteps bounced back from the walls. I was suddenly feeling cold for some reason.
I passed by one of the rooms. Inside, I could hear cries of surprise. It was a feminine cry. I realized that it was Aunt Vanessa. I leaned at the wall and strained my ears to listen. The people inside were speaking in Ayorthaian. I thanked Mother for teaching me this language.
"It can't be," Aunt Vanessa was saying. "Are you sure, Orono? Are you sure?"
"Yes," he replied. "A letter was received from Owen himself, stating his circumstances."
It was now Tristan's voice who spoke. "Father, we must send people to Bast now, to accompany him on his way back. Who knows what else could happen?"
If I was inside the same room, I could have embraced Tristan for suggesting that. Yes! Send more people so he would safer!
I was so intent it listening; it didn't matter to me that eavesdropping was discouraged.
"Papa." a soft voice said. I had to strain my ears harder to hear her. I realized that it was Adara. "Someone is listening."
My jaw dropped. How could she know I was just outside the door? I quickly regained my senses and ran away from the door. I didn't go to my room. I went instead to the gardens.
I was in the Orchid garden again. And I was also gazing at the cattleya.
I could hear footsteps coming my way. I turned around and saw Tristan.
"You were the one who was listening," he accused me.
Unfortunately, I wasn't in the mood to deny my actions. "Yes, I was. So?"
"Nothing. It's understandable anyway." He stopped. "And don't get me wrong. I'm also worried for your brother."
"Of course you were," I scoffed. "I heard you."
"Your tone suggests that I shouldn't have," he bluntly told me.
I suddenly wanted to bite back my tongue. He was right. My tone seemed to be ungrateful of his actions, when in truth, I really was. "I'm sorry. It's just that.I'm sick with worry right now. You don't know how Owen means to me. He is my brother."
"I do know," he replied. "That's why I told my father that."
I stared at him, baffled. He suggested that because he knew Owen meant a lot to me? It didn't make sense.
"Thank you."
~*~
It's been AGES! I KNOW! It's just that I am so busy!! I have trainings on
weekdays and debates on weekends!
And our final exams are nearing!!! X-(
I could die right now.
I'm sorry if this chapter isn't as good as all the others! It's just that I
crammed all this in one day just so I won't keep you waiting!!
But then, I hope you like it!!
Thanks so much to all the reviewers!! You make this fic a success!!
ÜÜÜÜÜÜÜÜÜÜÜÜ