"No," I told him mulishly. "It cannot be done. I told you, it just cannot be. And I refuse to believe it," I added. He made sense, but not enough sense for me. The pure notion of a collaboration, nay! Even an affiliation of ogres with humans was too impossible for me to allow myself to fathom it.

Tristan smiled grimly. "I had known that would be your answer. And I can't blame you. It is, after all, just a conjecture. A theory." He shrugged his shoulders. "We don't have much more evidence other than the one at hand."

I nodded. I couldn't deny the fact that he had a point, but as I said, I refuse to believe it. There was evidence, and plausible to boot. But no. There was still the matter on who could be the perpetrator. No one could possibly pull it off. Probably, but not likely. This person would have to have great power and influence, not to mention high financial status to manage this scheme…if it were a scheme. And assuming it might happen, it would still be highly unlikely because…simply because those who have power and influence were directly under the hand of the king—Father. Dukes, marquesses, earls, viscounts, and barons, even the squires—they were all under the hand of Father, and all had pledged to serve with justice and transparency. Kyrria was not just a kingdom reputed with political stability for nothing!

Simply put, I found it hard to believe that someone could do this.

But what else could I believe?

"Then what do you think happened?" he asked me.

I frowned at him. I should have known better than to challenge Tristan in a game of theories. Another proposition was the only thing to disprove the other. "Perhaps I belittled the ogres greatly. Maybe they are capable to join in large groups. After all, why shouldn't the ogres be competent of advancement? Frankly, I do not wish to believe that someone could do this. Especially in Kyrria."

He threw me a smug look. "You overestimate your Kyrria too much."

"I do not," I retorted calmly. "I am merely stating the facts as I see it. You should know better, Tristan, than to question me about Kyrria's politics. No one is could be suspected of this. If there was some anomaly or some sort injustice happening in Kyrria, I will know about it."

"I don't know as much as you do, so I'll leave it there." He glanced at the dead ogre. He didn't flinch, much less shudder, which I did anyway. "We will just have to leave this until something comes up again."

"If something comes up, and I surely hope not."

"Aren't you interested in solving this?" he asked in surprise. His blue eyes bore through me.

"No," I scoffed. "I'd rather have no revelation on this matter as long as there will no longer be ogre attacks. I will not allow another incident like this to happen just so we can gather more clues to whatever is behind this. And getting the said evidence is not even guaranteed! Should the lives of innocent people be at risk just for the vague uncertainty that there will be more evidence?"

"So you're just going to leave this to rot in the confines of your memory?" he shot back. "What if it doesn't happen again and no one would give a second glance to this occurrence and unbeknownst to us, it's getting bigger? And what if by the time it's epoch of decline has ended, another attack could overwhelm the army?"

I stared at him squarely. "And what if it will simply stop?"

Tristan raked his hand through his wet hair in exasperation. "You're impossible. Is that you're only purpose in life? To contradict and oppose everything I say?"

I crossed my arms below my breasts. "Maybe because I don't see any logic behind what you're saying."

"Or you're just plain stubborn," he answered with a grin. When I opened my mouth to reply, he cut me off. "So, are we going to Wistria or will we just stay under this downpour?"

He somehow managed to make to laugh. It was rather funny though. We had the opportunity to get out of the rain which showed no signs of calming down, yet we chose to argue amongst ourselves. But his eyes then went over my shoulder, and he groaned.

"Your Wistrian lady is coming over."

I abruptly stopped laughing. I turned around and sure enough, there was Lady Sylvia, wide flower-printed umbrella in hand, coming to our direction. She was stared wide-eyed at the carnage around her, at the same time, making sure her satin slippers didn't suffer great damage with the mud and rain. But then, her efforts were obviously futile.

The two of us froze at the sight of her coming towards us. We waited for the inevitable.

Lady Sylvia reached us, quite breathless. Her umbrella went over Tristan and I, but by the time it did, we were already soaked. What difference did more rain make? "Your Highnesses," she gasped, and curtsied. The ceiling of the umbrella collided Tristan's head when she did. Lady Sylvia glared at me. "Princess, please leave this abomination to the men and come with me to Wistria in my carriage. Immediately."

The haughty tone in her voice irked me but there was nothing else I could do but comply.

"I'm afraid that is out of the question," Tristan suddenly spoke.

Lady Sylvia's owlish eyes widened even more. "B-b-but," she stammered, clearly disconcerted with the thought of offending his Ayorthaian Highness.

"I had already invited Princess Catleya to join in my carriage, as I would like to discuss…certain diplomatic issues with her." He winked at me.

Her bonneted head bobbed in a nod. "As you wish, your Highness," she answered demurely and curtsied again. "But…I am not exactly in favor of relinquishing my umbrella, so I shall escort the two of you to your carriage, your Highnesses. I certainly do not wish to have you rained down."

Tristan and I looked at each other, trying to suppress the laughter. We were already wet, there was no point in using an umbrella. "Uhm…I do not think it is necessary, Lady Sylvia," I offered. "Tris—Prince Tristan and I would be fine on our own."

"If you wish it so, your Highness," Lady Sylvia replied but there was a quizzical look in her eyes. "But I must tell you, that our headmistress, Lady Ophelia, would like to have very urgent words with you. She expects you to be in the Wisteria parlor adjacent to Lady Ophelia's quarters. I'm sure you would not have a difficult time finding it." She curtsied again. When would this curtsying stop? "I shall leave now, your Highnesses. We shall see each other in Wistria. Until then." Then she looked at me suddenly, her eyes wider than ever. She paled, then went red. "AND BE DECENT!" she almost screamed at me.

I could only watch her retreating back in confusion. What did she mean be decent? I was as decent as I was every day.

Tristan took my hand. "Come on. We can continue our little debate in the carriage where we will most likely stay healthy."

I let him lead me to the carriage. It was hardly inconspicuous. The teal color of the carriage shined as if it were polished everyday. There was velvet curtains were a small luxury. The six horses pulling the carriage were all admirable and perfect thoroughbreds. Their white coats stood out from the gray sheet of rain that fell down. But what was most noticeable of the carriage was the emblazoned coat of arms of the Ayorthaian royal family. The dragon that symbolized the power of the royal family curled around a golden shield divided into the representations of the four elements.

Alama Iri Erese. It was written in ancient script. The Royal Ayorthaian saying that meant Calm Amidst Waves.

But before Tristan could open the door for me, it swung open, and at the same time, hitting me hard on my side. I was pushed back, and I clutched my side.

"What in damnation!" I almost screamed. I was soaking wet, I had just witnessed a nightmare, I just came an inch from death, and now my side was sore. This couldn't get any worse, I thought. But then, I saw who was in side, and realized, yes, it could get worse.

The one who swung the door had her hands over her mouth but I highly doubt it was because she accidentally assaulted me with a carriage door branded with a kingdom's coat of arms. She was still perfect in all angles, and even the wild frightened expression in her face did not detract the loveliness in her. Her gown was still the riches of fabrics—and dry—which ultimately led me to wish that I had brought an umbrella or a cloak along with me in this venture. The expanse of bosom that was exposed by the low cut of her gone heaved up and down with terrified breaths. I knew for a fact that the sight of that was enough to make a man take her in his arms and live with her in sin, and thankfully, Tristan was quite immune to that. But I noticed him swallow, much to my annoyance—at her. Couldn't this wench at least wear a cloak? This was hardly the time and place to exult her blessings!

"Tristan!" Amara exclaimed…or so I thought she exclaimed. She certainly had the tone of one in shock, but her voice was still soft and demure. "I saw you out there, and your sight, well and unharmed, is the only thing that withheld me from fainting with fear!"

I looked at her, mouth open. Tristan nodded, but his lips were pressed tight, suggesting that he was suppressing a smile.

"Those ogres were appalling! I declare I have never seen such monstrosities before…please, Tristan, comfort me by saying that all of them are truly gone," she continued to tell him.

He smiled at her. "Yes, they are all gone, so don't worry your pretty little head."

Color rose up Amara's cheeks when he said that, and I could only roll my eyes. It was wrong to come and join them in their carriage. I would sooner hit myself with a mace rather than watch these two sweeten up the atmosphere. But then, if I were in the Wistrian carriage, I would be subjected to sermons, tirades, and philippics, no doubt lowering the little humanity I was feeling in the moment.

Looking at Amara made me wish that I hadn't risked my neck for this. She was as perfect as the one of the masterpieces of the court painters while, on the other hand, was weed—drenched, trampled, ripped apart, and chewed up—compared to her resplendency. People were probably weren't right in the head when they boasted that I was the Flower Of Kyrria.

"Please come in now, Tristan!" she cried softly. Her amber eyes were suddenly crystalline with coming tears. I stared at her, still shocked at her ingratiating attitude towards Tristan. I stole a look at him, and was immediately relieved that he wasn't as compelled as what I expected. In fact, he had a dubious look in his face, one that was unbelieving yet also deciding whether too pity or to laugh. Amara reached for him with her silk gloved hands and pulled him inside.

But he did not let himself be pulled right away. He looked at me, somehow seeking help. "Amara, Princess Catleya will be joining us to Wistria, You are aware that she is currently…studying there."

More like suffering.

Amara gasped dramatically, and let a gloved hand hover in front of her roseate lips. She stared at me as if I had grown another head. "Princess Catleya! I am truly, very apologetic. Apparently, I did not see you. Please, come in, both of you. You are in dire need of shelter."

My cheeks were already burning as I entered the carriage. Even the luxury of a spacious and velvet-lined seat did not appease the torrent of emotions in me.  Did not see me? That was probably the most ridiculous alibi I had ever heard in my entire lifetime. It was obvious that she deliberately ignored me. Why? Because it was impossible to not see me! I was standing right next to Tristan, the man who she had no trouble pouring all her concerns!

Tristan cleared his throat. Oh but damnation upon him! I could see in his eyes that he was ready to guffaw—not laugh; it was too mild—any time now!

Amara looked at me curiously. Then she handed me a cloak lying next to her. I stared at the cloak, wondering what I should do with it.

"Please use it, Princess Catleya," she murmured. Then she looked at the length of me. "The rain has soaked through your very thin gown that it seems to have dissolved away."

I stared at her in bafflement, then looked at myself. Dissolved away? Not quite…but still, the gown had a lighter fabric than I had thought it had, and consequently because of the rain, it had turned…well, indecent. It had clung to my body at every possible corner, and had turned a bit transparent. How could I have not noticed? And all this time I was with Tristan and he had not said a word? Or maybe he didn't notice? But how could anyone not notice? Well, I didn't… "AND BE DECENT!" Lady Sylvia's half shriek echoed inside my head.

I snatched the cloak in her hands, and quickly covered myself. Amara gave me a complacent smile.

Tristan, at least, had the grace to look away.

~*~

When I got to Wistria, I was accosted with blatantly horrified stares, futilely concealed murmurs, and worse of all, sermons that seemed to be perpetual in length. Amara was received with greater welcome than I. Tristan…the dear Ayorthaian prince was immediately swept away to his own quarters by a fleet of harpies. I had gotten whispers and glances, but no, "You were so brave, Catleya." Not that I could be there to hear it because from out of nowhere, Lady Sylvia came behind me and dragged me to my room to be decent.

 But that had happened a good hour ago, and I was back inside my room, trying to prevent myself from remembering Lady Ophelia. Wearing a gown of cream silk edged with fine Keneisan lace, I had braved the halls of Wistria to go to Lady Ophelia. There had been a small light of hope inside of me that the sight of the elegant gown I had donned would somehow calm—if not appease—the veritable lion I would surely meet. But alas, I had come inside the parlor and the first thing I had received was a furious roar that could put a dragon to shame. But of course, it had only been one roar, since Lady Ophelia insisted she was a lady and that ladies were only given the right to roar in anger once. But that little fact didn't stop her from expressing her boiling rage targeted to my person. In all honesty, I would much rather deal with the shouting yet predictable Lady Ophelia than the icy, condemning, and condescending Lady Ophelia. I suppose that was I why I had been surprisingly quiet. But I was also tired of her, tired everything that had happened.

"You will not attend the weekly ball because of your insolence," she had told me. "And for the time being, you are to be confined to your room. Maybe a temporary detention would curb away from these…manly impulses."

That depraved and utterly malicious woman! I did not give a fig about going to that ball, but the fact that she completely disregarded my assistance in Sykes was enough to send a fist punching on the goose-down mattress. So much gallantry and heroism. At least, I had not harbored any thoughts of a golden welcome fit for a hero. I would have been extremely disappointed. And how dare she term this as manly impulses! They weren't the only ones who could

I should have known. I had risked my life speaking with ogres, and I only had ingratitude. It was worse than having none at all…but then, ingratitude gave you nothing. It was one and same. But what disappointed me more was the fact that this might be what I would get even as a princess.

Or suppose, it was just the apathetic nature of people.

I would be doing this for the rest of my life, risking possibilities and chances for the sake of the Kyrrian people as their princess. But in this little incident, something not as monumental as preventing war or famine, I had not even received gratitude for those I helped. Who knows? If the ogres were unstopped, they might have continued their criminal exploits to Wistria. But still, no thanks. I would have liked it better that they acknowledged my help but gave me some cool derision because of my insolence.

"Who in damnation is this mistress of destiny?" I suddenly asked myself out loud. "Madame, I never wanted to be a princess but now you have to make things much worse by giving me ungrateful people!" I closed my eyes.

The sound of rain falling outside my window was the only sound I heard.

The stupid confinement also reached other people. IN a way, they were confined to the rest of Wistria, and were forbidden to enter my room. I wondered what Ely could have been doing. Maybe I should have listened to her and stayed behind.

My eyes were open again. If I had to stay in this room, I might as well make the most of it. From the end of my bed, I crawled to the other end and opened the chest sitting in front of it. There were bound to have some books there, since I rarely traveled without a chest containing some favorites.

Books of all sizes were inside the chest, in different genres and titles. A cloak was also inside. Strangely though, none of this caught my attention completely. Instead, a large book of leather binding took my notice. There was no title in the cover, just the brown and weathered leather dipped with gold in the edges. I took the book and opened it.

The illustrations were marvelous and depicted scenes from a fairytale. One glance at the beautiful young woman sleeping on a bed entwined with roses made me conclude that this was a book of fairytales, and this was the tale of Briar Rose.

I turned the next pages, eager to find out more about this book. Somehow, it enchanted me, even though I had seen ancient texts deserving of more enthrallment.

But the next thing written was not a fairytale, rather, it was written by my mother's hasty writing. I frowned when I realized the familiar script, and wondered how it got there.

Dear Catleya,

I do not when you will be able to discover this magic book in your possessions, but I do hope this letter would reach your eyes when you do. If you are reading this, then I pray you do not shut the book with anger. But rather, I think you should smile because at last (and it has been a bit overdue) you will receive what your tantrums had demanded.

Tantrums? She was probably referring to my less than mature behavior in Ayortha…

But nonetheless, you must understand that we wanted to tell you, but without the confines of security, it would not be advisory.

If we tell you in an earlier time, your anxiety might prove to be detrimental, since this threat is weighing…by all means.

I wasn't lying when I said someone's life is at risk in this matter. And young lady if you think I am jesting right now, you are wrong. I am writing the truth, as it is. Don't complain about knowing about it now because after you find out, you will be infinitely grateful that we withheld this knowledge until now!

Owen's encounter with the ogres is not the least bit ordinary. In fact, it was…disturbing. These ogres were greater in number. Owen said that they were probably twenty in number. If that does not leave you in wonder, then this will. These ogres handled weapons, and even Owen had to remark their knowledge—if not skill—in using such weaponry.

I stopped reading. This had happened before? And just recently? Then it wasn't just a coincidence!

When they had successfully defeated the ogres, two humans who were surprisingly with them and cooperating with them (no matter how unbelievable this sounds, yes, I am not telling you fairy stories) were held captive. One of them gloated about the motive of the scheme, but then, that was the only thing he said, after much spitting and cursing the knights. He killed himself after his display of treachery to both parties. His companion had not said anything. And he followed the path his comrade so willingly took.

Catleya…the man said that the ogres were after you. He went as far by confessing he was forced to help them to get to you. Owen said that their deprived state of dress and nutrition contributed to that condition. Ogres never cared for their captives, even if they are their guides of some sort. It could be that they helped them in that battle because they were made to obey their honeyed commands. It is possible, and the only explanation.

I don't know why they want to harm you so, but we did not wish you to know earlier. If you had, you might have searched for the villain, as is your impulsive nature. Or worse, you might have had troubling nights and days, held on by the fear of something impending.

You father and brother has taken this situation under wraps but in control. This will not go out. But I assure you, this threat to you would mean a greater rift between the ogres and humans. I am now truly convinced of the consuming vileness these monsters have.

They are investigating this matter now but so far, there are no leads. Perhaps, this is but a coincidence. But nonetheless, this has strengthened the campaign to rid this land of ogres. They are now losing all control! We have to protect Kyrria now, and not wait till these ogres smarten up. We don't want to deal with spell casting monstrosities, now do we?

 Please understand, Catleya. Now that you are in Wistria, we could be certain that you will not go headlong on danger, since the ladies there would surely prevent you. At the same time, this would be the last place those villains would find you.

I suppose you should owe it to your mother's reputation of avoiding such schools. I have a feeling you are still harboring some animosity for all of us (yes, including Owen) because we allowed you to be there. But now, I hope you would not be so angry towards us.

Our intentions are always for the best. And frankly, I will not have you in that accursed place if it the situation was not so fatal!

Write to me whenever you want to. And when you do, then I am sure you have forgiven us of any trespasses.

Love,

Mother

PS

I do hope your tongue had not wasted during that long time you refused to speak with us!

Despite the urgency clearly stated in the letter, I smiled at the end. Typical of Mother to insert some sort of remark at the end. But it didn't last long. I was feeling guilty because of what I had caused them all. They truly meant well, but because of my proud and stubborn nature, I had cast all their good intentions aside. Looking back, I realized I was even more impossible than a toddler. My actions shamed me, and I regretted all I had done. They didn't deserve all my nonchalance and contrariness.

Though another feeling my mind, and this was fear. They were after me.

But why?

In all accounts, I was just a princess holding no real claim to the throne. If they wanted to usurp the throne, shouldn't the go to Owen? Not that I would wish this ills on my brother! But why me? I was insignificant in the political arena of the Kyrrian kingdom. I knew a lot of the kingdom, but I was not immersed in its affairs unlike Father and Owen. Mother, yes, but she was more concerned in the social aspect and the prolificacy of language schools. I, on the other hand, did not have an action credited to myself only. I was only the Flower Of Kyrria.

Ignoring all their facts, I came to the conclusion that they had found me, that Mother's reputation was not enough to ward them of from Wistria. They had already come to Sikes. They probably thought it was a convenient detour before going to Wistria. What could stop them from going here? And more…what if their attack would prove to be more successful than the last? What if the ladies of Wistria—even if I didn't have strong feelings for most of them—would be caught between the encounter? It was a lucky coincidence that Tristan had been on his way to Wistria with Amara. If he had not come, then Sikes would be in ruins, and this finishing school was next.

Although, they wouldn't attack Wistria…they couldn't. The defeat in Sikes was overwhelming, and where could they get twenty more ogres? Of course. This was not possible, with knights also residing at the same time in here.

Father and Mother were probably right. Wistria was a safe place.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Hiya!!! I hope you like this chapter!!! And the truth is finally revealed!!! Yeah I know it took me a long time…and I'm deeply sorry… you can hit me on the head now. I deserve it. Come on. Don't be shy… oki…never mind…

Thanks to all the reviews!!! I am so appreciative!!! Hehe…I especially like hearing from you guys!! Hehehe and I hope you saw the reviews I placed there. It's an extended version of the author's note coz the last time I posted, the author's notes were always cut!! _

THANKS AGAIN!!!! ^_^

I'll try to update as soon as possible!!!!!!!