I stared at the door with which Owen just used to get out of the room. That moment might have been the only moment in sixteen years when I felt like not talking to Owen because of his actions. He deliberately did not tell me anything! I would have understood if he explained why he couldn't tell me. It would even be so much better if he just didn't explicitly told me that something was the matter. I was being left out in t he cold, desolated from all the information they knew. Was it because I was too young? Impossible. Father and Mother both thought highly of me, especially if it came with knowledge and understanding; they wouldn't leave me out of this if it was something concerning that. Besides, they believed that ignorance of the youth was deleterious. Certainly, Owen didn't tell me because he thought I would faint or something. He knew that I would rather kill myself than intentionally showing a weakness.

Why couldn't they tell me?

I was mentally capable of handling dire matters. I was also the member of the Kyrrian royal family, but how come I wasn't told of about this matter? Owen said so himself: someone was after the throne. And if someone was after the throne, all our lives were in danger. To get the throne, that person would have to get rid of us sovereigns. He or she would have to get Father, Mother, Owen, and me out of the picture. Aunt Cecilia and her family were also in danger. In fact, all our close relatives were in danger! This was so crucial and important, but they wouldn't tell me!

My mood was beginning to decline. I was elated when I realized that Father and Owen returned safe and sound, but then, this occurrence would have to ruin everything.

Féséia ronhé limaña

My mind suddenly whispered to me, again and again. It was still an enigma, an unsolved puzzle. I didn't tell anybody about my discovery. I supposed I was afraid they would think I was crazy to even consider it. They would really be convinced I was crazy if I told them of the occurrence that happened with the ring. I didn't have the guts to look at Owen's ring. I didn't even want to ask my parents. Besides, they might not even want to tell me. To solve this puzzle, I first had to learn what the meaning of those words was.

I had nothing to do except to wonder about the reasons why they couldn't tell me, but I wouldn't dwell on it.  I went to the immense library of the Ayorthaian citadel. I had been there before, and the only word to describe it was breathtaking. But maybe, it was breathtaking for me and not for another person. The books of the library were all leather-bound. The shelves containing these books reached up to the ceiling. There were many ladders leading up to the bookshelves. There was also a second floor in the library, with a marble staircase leading up to it. There was one section in the library with all the ancient books. These books were contained in shelves with glass doors. No one would be able to look at these books without the librarian's supervision. These books were too precious and rare.

The library was almost empty when I got there. I smiled at the librarian, who curtsied. I had already memorized all the libraries I had been to, and this was no exception. I immediately headed to the west wing of the library, where all the language books were stored. One of the reasons why I knew this library to heart was because it was my safe hold whenever my family and I visited. Tristan never visited the library when he was a whelp, though I still didn't know if he still didn't visit the library up till now.

My finger traced the sides of the books. All the titles were in Ayorthaian. I pulled out one of the books. It was entitled Language Throughout The Ages.

When I first saw the table of contents, I shut the book immediately. All the languages enlisted were the languages I was already familiar with and enigma was something miles away from familiarity.

I looked up. The books that were older were always placed in the higher shelves. Beside me was the ladder. I knew that I would probably be criticized for climbing a ladder just for a book. I wasn't deaf to some people's criticisms. "A princess is supposed to be dainty and modest…not budding explorers of old castles!" I heard someone say once. It was with relevance to my exploration of the old castle in Frell. But I wasn't dainty or modest…I was…I was raucous and curious! What was wrong with that? Clearly, I didn't see what people saw. No matter. I was climbing the ladder anyway.

One step.

Two steps.

Three steps.

I kept on climbing and climbing until I reached the tenth and last step, probably. I was soon looking at the top of the bookshelf. I carefully scanned the titles of the books. Symbolic Language. The History of Gnomic Language. Abdegi In Four Chapters. There were more ridiculous titles that followed that one. I sighed. I could give up finding a reference now and save myself from wasting time. But if I did, I might never find a solution to my problem. I could always go to the Kyrrian Library, but I would still have to wait for a week or more. I didn't have the time. And I needed to know now. If I did it now, I would feel at least some self-fulfillment, even though my researching would be futile.

Finally, I found what I was searching for. The title of the book was sensible, and could be the lead to my search.

I carefully got the book out of the shelf. I realized that it was truly ancient, like what the title suggested. The reddish leather covering was flaking in some places. The smell was what I liked best. It had a musty scent, a real clue of age. In fading gold calligraphy, the title was written.

Ancient Tongues.

It was as if a treasure was in my hands. Certainly the strange language written in the inside of my ring would be something ancient. It could be that it was a lost language, with no other counterpart in the contemporary times.

I stepped down on the ladder, but now, my knees were wobbling. I was holding the side of the ladder with one hand, and the heavy book on the other. I wasn't afraid with heights, but I was afraid of falling. I supposed the reason was because falling meant pain, or at least some sort of panic. Heights meant only being on top of something high. As I descended down the ladder, knees wobbling and hand gripping on the ladder and book for dear life, I feared that I would fall, hit my head, and then something worse would follow.

As I reached the sixth step, my fears were confirmed. My wobbling knees quickly gave way and I was soon falling four feet in the air. I uttered a small scream. As much as I hated showing to the whole world that I was a damsel in distress, I did. But I wasn't just going to fall down without a fight. I grabbed the side of the ladder, which in turn, shook and rattled. I silently cursed myself for even doing so. It was alright to fall down but it was not alright to have a ladder come with you!

"Careful!" someone said. Suddenly, the ladder was no longer shaking crazily. I looked down and saw none other than Tristan, who was now holding the ladder.

He smirked. "What's wrong with you? Climbing up there without any kind of assistance. You know better than to do so."

I glared at him. "Won't you just shut up?" I stepped down the ladder. "What I do is not your problem."

"But it is. We can't have the princess of Kyrria breaking her royal neck in the Ayorthaian library," he replied sarcastically.

I jumped to the floor and smoothed my gown. The thick book was still in my hand. "What are you doing here anyway?"

For some reason, he scowled at me. "None of your business. What are you doing here?"

I growled in exasperation. Then I turned to him and eyed him squarely. "None of your business, either. If you will excuse me, I must go."

Without any warning though, he snatched the book from my hand. Before I could react, he had already read the title, and was soon flipping the pages. There was a silly grin in his face, as if that book was not something about etymology. I placed my hands on my hips. "What is so amusing?"

Tristan returned the book to me with a chuckle. "You must be jesting by reading this book. What do you need this for? You and your mother both have the immense knowledge of linguistics stored in your minds."

I sighed. "I don't know everything about languages. Besides, I wanted to learn more."

"Learn more?" he repeated incredulously. "Haven't you learned everything about etymology? After all, Kyrria established the first language school, not just for Ogrese but for every language there is. And I happen to know that you are one of the 'valedictorians' of that school."

"I teach there too," I added. "But that's not the matter. I don't know everything about that. I think you should have concluded that when you saw the book."

"But that book is about the languages you know! Ogrese, Abdegi, Gnomic, Elfin, and all the other languages in this world. You can basically speak Gnomic in a fast pace without faltering. And I highly doubt your ignorance concerning the history behind these languages."

My face must have looked so crestfallen. "You mean to say that this book only talks about the history of the current languages?"

He nodded. "If you don't believe me, look and see."

I did open the book.

The History of Ogrese.

The History of Abdegi.

The history of so forth. He was right. This book was nothing. Of course the book detailed the ancient tongues. Kyrrian, Ayorthaian, and Kenesan were not there because it was not as ancient as Ogrese or Abdegi or Elfin or Gnomic. I supposed I couldn't believe it at first because I gave all my hopes into this book. Then suddenly all these hopes vanished.

"You look so distressed. What is the matter?" Tristan asked.

I shook my head. "Nothing. I just thought that maybe I could read about something new." I put the book back into the shelf, not bothering the fact that it was not the correct location of the book. Usually, I was a prig when it came to the library, but right now, I didn't feel like it.

"You need not learn anything new. There are other places for that," he said to me. "Like Kyrria for example. I heard that you would be departing in three days."

I smirked. "Are you sad?"

He laughed. "Of course not!" We were walking to the central hall of the library. I noticed one of the paintings there that struck a nostalgic note in me: Aida, the water maiden. "But that doesn't mean I would be happy about your departure. The Ayorthaian court would be quieter now that the Kyrrian royal family is gone."

I grinned. "You wouldn't have anybody to talk to now, unless you'd want to hear the 'by your leaves.'"

"I guess I would have to leave Ayortha again."

"Why?"

He glanced at me. "You pride your intelligence but simple matters elude you."

My jaw dropped. "I am not shallow nor am I too deep. I'm just asking because you told me that you didn't want to leave Ayortha. I assumed that you were probably joking yourself when you said that."

"But I do want to leave. It's not easy living in Ayortha if you are raised by an Eriman, let alone have Eriman blood in you. You do know that my mother and her kind are a talkative race."

"Ettore and Adara both have the same blood as you yet they are not as noisy as you."

He grinned. "That's because they didn't want to. They decided that shutting up would be good for them, whilst, I didn't. Therefore, I am probably the most garrulous Ayorthaian sovereign."

"I can't exactly blame you for wanting to leave Ayortha because of the plate-shattering silence," I admitted. "In fact, too much silence could drive me insane. And even though I wanted to kill you when we were kids, I was indebted to you back then. Without you, then I might have lost my mind in this silence."

"My pleasure," he replied. "Of course I remember you truly losing it. I recall you screaming at Adara and Ettore for being to quiet."

I shook my head. "They still haven't changed. I mean, what is the point of having a voice when you don't use it?"

"You haven't very much acquainted yourself with Ayorthaian culture," he observed. "What is the point of having ears when all you hear are voices with no meaning? Ayorthaian nobles don't speak because—"

"Because of your great philosopher Aquila," I interrupted. "Yes, yes, I know the story about him spending time in the Ayorthaian courts, finding it unbearably noisy and making up some lo and behold tenet that every Ayorthaian follows by heart."

He shook his head. Then he went next to one of the shelves and took out a book. "I suggest you look at this first. Catleya, you are lucky that not every Ayorthaian noble is as silent as the ground they stand on. Well, I see you intend to stay in this library so, see you some other time."

He left me there in the library. I was beginning to wonder whether or not this was the day when ever person in this whole kingdom would actually leave me standing on one place, with no clue about anything.

I glanced at the book.

Eremi orwo ehthe usensa odono adda iti

(If there is too much, do not add to it)

~*~

This I wanted to tell everybody. Firstly, I was confused by this ring a fairy allegedly gave me. It gave me visions, whether it was real or not. I felt something through it, in my mind, in my heart, and in my body. It had always been there in my ring finger, but it never felt tight. It felt as though it was part of my skin. Surely, my finger grew with the passing of sixteen years. But the ring seemed to grow along with me, changing its size and still fitting itself comfortably in my finger. The ring was something important and mysterious. I had to find out because it was so. I had to solve this mystery. Maybe, just maybe, if I could solve this enigma, the rest of the mysteries of my life would be solved also. I had the whole of my life to ponder about this ring with clandestine motives. Unfortunately, I was determined not to waste my life with wondering. I needed to know now.

Secondly, there was this issue about the secrecy of Owen—and also my parents. He wouldn't tell me a single thing. Dinner, last night, when I badgered him about telling me, he just rolled his eyes and said, "Don't bother wasting your voice; I won't tell you anything." His words sounded so casual, but his tone was practically the epitome of gravity and concern. When I turned to my parents, Father silenced me with his usual look. Mother glanced at Father with a question in her eyes. They both stared at each other for a rather long time before Mother tore her eyes away and looked at me blankly. After that, she could no longer look at me. But that was not all. When I passed by their rooms ago I heard my parents arguing.

"Char, why should we keep doing this?" Mother was asking to Father.

"We have to Ella. We can't have any hysteria at this moment."

Then the door opened and I was soon facing my parents. I didn't know how they detected my presence, but with the look on their faces, I could've wished I had just walked by their room.

"Catleya, what are you doing?" Father asked.

I gulped. "I was walking past your room," I lied.

Mother butted in. Sometimes I hated her for being too sharp with the trivial details. "Then why are biting your lip?"

I stopped biting my lip. Then I cursed myself silently for biting my lip when I was nervous. "Because I like biting it…?"

Mother laughed, and Father smiled a little. But it was a little.

"Char, we know all too well that Catleya only bites her lip when she is nervous. Or when she does something wrong."

"I didn't do anything. I was just walking past," I defended myself.

Mother's green eyes stared back at me. She had a way with staring at people. Her eyes just made her subject want to crawl to a little corner and writhe with a guilty conscience. Her eyes were so penetrating, and questioning at the same time. "You were nosing around."

Father didn't bother to justify Mother's conclusion. He just ran his hand through his hair and sighed. "Catleya. It is late. Go to bed."

"What?" I asked him incredulously.

"Go to bed."

"I am not a little girl anymore, Father. I know all to well that I don't have to go to bed at this time," I protested.

But it turned out that my protests were futile. With one look, I was off my way too my room. The two of them looked at me with great intimidation that I swallowed all my protests and went to bed.

My whole family was keeping something from me. I didn't know what to feel. I felt as if I was no longer Father and Mother's daughter, or Owen's sister. I felt like an outsider.  I felt like I was trying to climb an unreachable wall, and since it was unreachable, I kept on sliding down.  I started to hate them for that. Although I didn't try to hate them strongly, I hated them for little things. I was their daughter! I had the right to know what was happening in our kingdom, let alone my own family!

And thirdly, there's this problem concerning Tristan. How come he just happened to pop out of nowhere for no reason at all? Somehow, we always managed to cross paths and then talk for one reason or another. These moments were in the garden, the sings, the ball, and lastly, the library. It also bothered me that I once wanted to sever Tristan's head when we were young, but right now, I actually cherished his company. After all, he was the only decent minded Ayorthaian noble in the vicinity.

On the day before we were to leave Ayortha, I woke up on a normal morning and decided to ignore my family, just as they had been ignoring me. If I had to suffer because of their secrecy, then they would have to suffer because of my snubbing. They needed a taste of their own medicine. They needed to feel ho wit was to be left out of something. I couldn't torture myself though, by being a mute. I would still speak, except I would have to do so with the real mutes: the Ayorthaian nobles. But then, speaking with them would not be speaking at all. I would be talking to myself.

I sat up in bed and looked out the window. It was a new day, and this day would be different. I promised myself that on this day I would not speak with them. I wanted to linger more inside my room, so that in case they wanted my presence, they would have to wait and be patient. It was their fault; they had it coming. If they thought it was infuriating—my tardiness and insubordination—then they should just look at themselves and see how infuriating they were towards me!

There was a knock on the door. I reasoned with myself that my stubbornness should not be a hindrance to proper manner. I was not a brute, and I did not intend to be. I opened the door and standing in front of it was a timid creature, bowing in such a way that I could only see her blonde head. "Your Highness," she said in Ayorthaian. "Breakfast is already served in the Uidu balcony. Your presence is requested by their Majesties."

"Exactly, who of the 'their Majesties'?" I asked.

The girl's eyes remained on the floor. I could see her fingers fidgeting with her skirt. "Their Majesties, King Orono, Queen Vanessa, Prince Tristan, Prin—"

"So you mean all of them?" I interrupted, impatient.

She nodded.

"Well…" I paused, trying to assure myself that my next words would not be a suicide attempt. "Tell them that I am still sleeping, therefore I cannot possibly be in the Uidu balcony to have breakfast with them."

She couldn't help it; she raised her eyes towards me. Her blue eyes were huge and swallowing. I swore I could almost see tears. Her lip quivered. "Princess Catleya! I cannot possibly lie to my sovereigns!"

I was firm on my decision to not go down. "But, you cannot possibly deny the wishes of a visiting sovereign, especially the sovereign of your kingdom's ally."

Her bewilderment made me feel sorry for her. She seemed to see something in the air, as if there were little beings there, telling her what to do. She kept on looking at her left then her right. I was beginning to doubt her sanity. But it was my fault. I was using sneaky ways just to get what I wanted. This was certainly unbecoming of a princess, in my standards. I believed that sovereigns should never use their authority for selfish desires, but what was I doing now? I was being a hypocrite to my own beliefs. Who knew that maybe I would become a demagogue, something that was frowned upon by Kyrrian society.

My heart must be so soft and vulnerable to pathetic people. I sighed. "Alright, I will go to the Uidu balcony."

The girl almost jumped for joy.

~*~

The Uidu balcony had a rather interesting feature. It was a domed terrace with frescos in the ceiling. The frescos were mainly pictures of springtime delights like chasing butterflies in meadows, or something like that. There was an oak dining set in the middle of the balcony, for eating and other such doings. Hanging from the ceiling was a multitude of chimes made out of shells forming—yes, butterflies. There were many plants in this balcony. Wisterias were falling from the ledges. There were also baskets carrying temple flowers in strategic places around the balcony. The temple flowers gave an exquisite scent that mixed delicately with the sea breeze. This balcony was very special to Aunt Vanessa's heart. The temple flowers and butterfly-shaped shells were her unique additions. The flowers and the butterflies reminded her of Erima, her old home.

When I got to the Uida balcony, the first thing I did was glare towards Owen's direction. He returned my glare, of course; it was not like my brother to ignore me. Father and Mother did not see me do this. If they did, then I would be in big trouble. The manservant motioned me to sit beside him. I did, but I didn't say anything to Owen.

"So Catleya, how was your night?" Owen grinned. "I heard that you did something unfavorable to Father and Mother."

I glared at him. I knew that he was talking about the eavesdropping incident that happened. As much as I wanted to argue with him, I bit my lip and stared at the food on my plate.

He was befuddled with my silence, as I was usually noisy.

Breakfast passed by without me talking to him. He tried to talk to get me to talk for a number or times, but I still didn't respond. He must have been very annoyed because at the end of breakfast, he didn't attempt to talk to me. In fact, I suspected him to conclude that I was navel-gazing. I went to the library to read books. I didn't want to be stuck in one room with my family, as I vowed not to speak with them.

I didn't return to the Languages section. That section gave too many disappointing memories. I knew that I could never solve this problem. This ring would always be on my ring finger, and it would always be unsolved and mysterious. I decided to go to my favorite section, the Fiction section. I was a fan of this particular writer.

Her name was Lady Elspeth of Hualin. She was also my mother's friend. I had met her once, and this was when she visited Mother. She was a few years older than my mother, and was married to Sir Lionel of Hualin. One of her stories—Eliza—was written by memory of her experiences because of her love for Lionel. Not many people knew this, but Mother told me. She was written in the dedication, but there she was just Ella, and not Queen Ella. Although Eliza was not my favorite book, it made me feel sentimental. What was so special about was because it was written from the heart. I preferred her other stories over Eliza. It was because it was just the message of love was profound—even to me. I couldn't relate with the story, thus I couldn't really make it that relevant with my experiences.

When I arrived at the Fiction section, I immediately spotted the section where all her works were shelved. I didn't stop there though. I had already read most of her books, and I had no intention to read those again. As much as I loved Lady Elspeth, I couldn't bring myself to reread something I could reread later. I had all the time in the world to read her books, but I had no time to read the books available only in this library.

I went to the section of fictional books that specialized books in the Ayothaian language. I pulled out one, entitled Alisa, which was Away in Kyrrian. I took it out of the shelf and went to one of the tables. At first, the reason why I wanted to read this book was because the cover was attractive. It was a painting of four ladies, all wearing costumes from twenty years ago. I sat down on one of the chairs.

A quick read in the summary showed that it was about a generation of Ayorthaian ladies living in the sophisticated court of Ayortha. The book chronicled the rise from poverty of the first lady of the family. Then soon the book tackled issues on acceptance, love, and treason. Of course if the issues weren't there, one might think it would be dull plot which did not deserve to be printed into a book.

But no one ever thought that court life would be trouble-free, a breeze. Everyone thought that courtly life was all about frivolous ladies, gallant lords, festive balls, courtly love, and sophisticated lifestyles. Although I would agree that court life included balls, ladies, lords, and shamefully, sophisticated lifestyles, I would have to remonstrate the stereotype view of court life being the easiest kind of life. In all my years in court, I had felt that it was not at all simply dressing up in nice clothes and flirting with gentlemen. In court, acceptance was valuable, and courtiers tend to be criticizers of every move. My being a princess was especially scrutinized upon. One measly mistake like mistaking a salad fork for a mutton fork would lead to rumors about boorishness and incivility. And might I say that courtiers enjoyed using their voices. Courtly life was a strangling lifestyle, where manner and fashion were the ruling elements of society.

Conformity was rather prominent in court, and standing out was discouraged. This was one of the reasons why Mother was not accepted in a snap in the Kyrrian court. Although she was charming, beautiful, and witty, she was often wild and free willed. She recognized manner and conduct, but she never let these edicts rule her, unlike other courtiers. Mother always told me stories about the first years in Kyrrian court. She refused to wear ballooning skirts and frills in every section. For one moment, she was talked about by every courtier. But soon, everybody realized that Queen Ella was not just a queen. She was a normal person, who preferred this over that. They accepted her free willfulness, and loved her as a queen and lady.

To be honest, I was claustrophobic with the tight box of courtly life. Every day was a routine of waking up, dressing up nicely, having breakfast, greeting courtiers…and so on. Mother, Father, and Owen didn't care what other people said about them, just as so they knew that what they were doing was right. Rumors never bothered them, and if an ugly rumor did surface, they wouldn't care. As long as they knew the rumor was false, there was no real dilemma—unless the rumor could be so life-threatening. But I wasn't like them. I gave plenty of relevance to rumors, most especially if it was not true, no matter how trivial it was. It was strange…I never really cared about what people think, but when there were rumors about me, I would find the source and clean things up.

But rumors were rumors, and most rumors would stick to you like glue. No wonder some people thought I was delusional from all my wonderings. Frittering away with time, as Mandy would put it.

Precious, precious time. And I only had little time to find out what was really happening. Maybe this would work. Maybe Owen would probably feel guilty about not telling me, and maybe he would get the message of my silence. I didn't count on Mother and Father telling me. Mother was as stubborn as an ox, and Father's decision would always be final. But Owen…Owen was like butter, although the analogy sounded foolish. He was firm on his decisions, but he could be softened with certain circumstances—like not speaking with him. Or unless this matter was indeed truly pressing that he really couldn't tell me.

Speaking of Owen…he was inside the library.

I thought the library would be the safest place away from Owen or one of my parents. I was wrong.

He saw me immediately. I was sitting in one of the tables of the library, reading the book. I decided to concentrate on the book and pretend that he wasn't really there. I even focused my thoughts on the book. Emaline was born on the night of the feast of Espere. This feast was one of the most exorbitant and cheerful feasts in Ayortha. And as any other superstitious couple, Otto and Amera believed their daughter to be cheerful and loving, yet she needed to be given all. They believed that she would grow up to be something rich and powerful. And although their love for their baby daughter was inevitable, this little belief clouded a part of it with greed. Otto and Amera believed that it Emaline that would lead them to avariciousness—­

"I suspected that you don't want to talk to me but you would have to soon. Father and Mother wish to speak with you," Owen said.

I looked up from the book. He was standing beside me, arms crossed over his chest, and looking down at me like some towering black tower from fairytale illustrations. I raised an eyebrow. I was tempted to talk, but I bit my lip again.

Instead, I stood up, left the book on the table, and gestured for him to lead the way.

As he led me through the corridors of the Ayorthaian castle, he tried to get me to talk.

"I don't understand why you don't want to open your mouth. You are usually garrulous…too garrulous to be exact. I guess I should be happy that once in your life you're not talking too much, but then when you don't talk, the environment seems quieter. Catleya, I know that deep inside you're forcing yourself to not talk. And I know that you want to scream at me, right this very moment…"

He was so right. I wanted to scream at him right now. Scream at him for not telling me anything, and for implying that I was too noisy.

Then we reached my parents' room. Owen opened the door, and said, "After you."

I smiled. I had a great big feeling that I would soon find out what was the matter.

When I went inside, I saw Father standing beside Mother, who was sitting down. Her arms were crossed over her chest, and her face was red. The only time I saw her face that red was when she got in an argument with a maid whom she caught stealing a vase. She was slightly glaring at Father, but when she looked at me, she sighed and shook her head. Father, on the other hand, looked calmer. But I could see that he had been struggling with a dilemma.

"Catleya, sit down," he said. I did.

"Owen, could you please give us some time alone?" My brother nodded and went out of the room.

Then he started with his voice grave and sullen. It was without energy, something that wasn't of the norm. "This might sound a shock to you. Due to certain circumstances that will remain undisclosed, your mother and I decided on something that will be for your own good. And I can predict your objection to this, as your mother had been objective. But Catleya, you must understand that this is the only way to keep you from harm."

 I still didn't talk, even though I wanted so much to. I wanted to ask him what the decision was. Why did it had to be undisclosed? Why did Mother object? Why did they need to protect me?

Then Father's next words forced me to open my mouth and talk.

"Catleya, we have decided to send you to Wistria."

I leaped up from the chair. "You can't do this to me!"

Wistria was not all bad. It was a rather pleasant place with meadows stretching far and wide. But it was the duty of the Wistrian Ladies that made it worse. Wistrian Ladies cultivated perfect ladies, carving them from immature brats to poised and genteel courtiers. They were acknowledged for their strictness in manner and fashion. To live under the wing of the Wistrian Ladies would be heaven for a courtier, but not to me. Wisteria was just a bigger and more commercialized finishing school. I didn't need to be finished. I knew that I was already a proper lady. Yes, Wistria was one of the most highly protected places in Kyrria, considering the fact that young ladies lived there, but it didn't mean that I should be there. If they wanted protection, they could leave me be in the castle, where everyone's eyes were on me.

"But you have to Catleya," Mother said. "It's not like I would want you to be cooped up in that place. You have to."

"No, I don't have to! And why should I be protected? It is not like my life is in danger in every second!" I protested.

"You don't understand the situation, Catleya," Father replied.

I stared at him. "Then tell me why I have to imprison myself in that nest of harpies and sirens. Maybe, I would be able to accept my fate."

Father shook his head. "No, Catleya. We cannot tell you. You won't understand."

"I don't understand now because you won't tell me. Why do you have to keep something from me?"

Mother answered, "Because it is too crucial. Catleya, Wistria will provide you with proper protection. It is near Frell, where the castle is. We can visit you, and you can visit us. There, you will learn to be a princess. There, you will learn to be a proper lady."

"But you yourself didn't want to be in a finishing school!"

"My past experiences do not affect my present judgment. This is for your own good."

I bit my lip again. "How can this be for my own good? Father, Mother…the two of you are just locking me up in a strangling finishing school, where I would have to learn what I already know."

Father replied, "You cannot perceive Wistria to be such a horrid place. In fact, many ladies wish to go there. There, you will learn the virtues to be a princess, just like the other princesses in your line. Your Aunt Cecilia came there when she was twelve. Your grandmother did so too. There are many princesses who go that place and come out to be better persons."

"You didn't need to send Owen to some polishing school to be a prince. And do you think that I am not a better person?" I retorted.

"We don't think that. It's just that you have to be safe…" Mother said in an imploring voice, pleading for understanding.

I shook my head. "There it is again: safety. Tell me, Father, Mother. Tell me how can I be safe when I don't even know what will harm me?"

"By going there you will be," Father replied. "This is final, Catleya. You will go to Wistria, as soon as we arrive in Frell."

I didn't want to go there. I didn't want to be taught manners and behavior. Most especially, I didn't want to be shunned away in the darkness, without any idea why I was even there. "Fine. I will go there. But don't expect me to thank you for sending me there. Because I will loathe it with all my heart."

Mother's hand was on her forehead. "Catleya…please, try to understand…"

"But you're not helping me to understand," I replied. Then I left the room. I had never been so disrespectful to my parents. But here I was, walking out of the room. I was sure that I would be reprimanded for my behavior. Yet, I had a feeling that they knew this would happen, that I would protest, lose, and walk away. And they were right. I had protested. I had lost. I had walked away. 

~*~

Oh my goodness this is a long yet mediocre chapter…nothing special about it…I do hope you like it. I know, every time I write the author's note, I keep on saying that it's not really that good, but I hope you like it still. I know, I know…I guess I have a low self-esteem or something ÜÜÜÜÜ

I'm so sorry I updated so late! I know it's been ages! I have NO LIFE!!! I'm serious! I'm strangled by homework, debates, studies… X-(

It's only now that I had found time writing…and it's 12:49 am!!!!! And I admit it, I had some writer's block for some time… Eck… it's just that I missed writing this so I crammed it all in two hours…

And I have a blog… it's much easier to write in it because I don't have to think about it. Catleya requires brain power… Blog only takes a few minutes of the day ÜÜÜÜ Besides, the layout is cute…made it myself...

I hope you like this chapter! I admit that it's kind of messy but please bear with me!

Thanks to all the reviewers! Love you all! ÜÜÜÜÜÜÜÜÜ