I haven't been able to think about the plot much lately with the amount of school work I have (2 more papers! Yes!), but I do know that I'd like to keep the mysteriousness around until the end. This story has been fun write so far, and thanks very much for the reviews for the first two chapters.

Standard disclaimer still applies.

Prisoners of the Past

More Questions, No Answers

The woman's patronizing look grated on her last nerves as she had to listen to exactly why she wasn't allowed to leave.

"I'm sorry Miss, but you may not leave until we have permission from His Majesty specifically." The young nurse had repeated the phrase patiently at least three times. She could see the woman was determined to leave but orders were to watch her at all times until Prince Milliardo returned.

She didn't know why, and it wasn't her place to question.

Lucrezia nodded her understanding, her mind still trying to think of ways to get out of the hospital. All doors and windows were wired with alarms, security cameras lined the corridors but there had to be a weak point. Every building, however, had at least one corner with one less camera or alarm. But where was that corner?

She needed to find it fast.

She had overheard from some of the nurses that he'd be back sometime in the evening. She couldn't face him. Wasn't ready to hear his voice again.

His voice held some special power over her.

Maybe it was in the way he said her name. Lucrezia. in a particular way where he elongated each syllable so that they rumbled and rolled over her in his deep baritone.

His eyes had always fascinated her.

One look at the ice blue paleness of them was like a bolt of lightning. Shocking, the flash of heated electricity so quick and intense one could question if anything really happened.

She didn't have the strength to face him. Because she didn't think she could stand to have her heart shatter into anymore pieces.

*****

Not for the first time in her young life, Dorothy cursed her bad luck. It seemed life played a game with her in particular, making it her destiny to fail. Always feeding her convictions laced with opportunities, then slamming the proverbial door in her face.

Now Dorothy Catalonia was not one to whine. She took what she was dealt in stride, her mind always working to come up with ways to gain a new advantage. Strategies. Plans. Tactics.

Her mind was full of them.

She was consumed by the probabilities of this outcome, and the statistical evidence for that one, and was easily caught up in the fascination of analyzing the risks that went along with wars and the numerous probable outcomes based on statistics.

She found herself at the age of three being raised by her tyrannical grandfather. Between the long battle of heart versus mind, his mind being larger in mass and control and therefore power had won out. The same mind that made the decisions in the past to kill many who had done no wrong except harbor hopes and dreams of a better life.

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. One man's (or woman's) beauty is another's stolen life.

That was her motto, one constantly repeated to her by her grandfather, and what made her so accepting of what life revealed for her future. She could always see the beauty in the aspects of life that other people would otherwise be grieving over.

Except when it was her own life on the line.

Now again, she wasn't one to whine.

Nor did she value her life over others.

But if there was one thing she hated, one above all others, was having to face and admit failure. Because she knew this time there would be consequences, as she was responsible for two things going wrong.

Two things that could have been zero if the first plan had worked the way it was planned out, with careful attention to every probable outcome.

For the first time she felt like a witness to her own life instead of an active participator. And there was only one solution.

*****

Huddled in a large and tattered gray cloak was a person- whether man or woman was hard to distinguish from the size and utter shapelessness of the cloak- sitting on a small wooden bench. A mist of white blew out from their mouth and nose every time they drew in a breath.

The night was not just cold, it bit deep. The wind stung in contact with skin, almost as if the cold was on the inside, chilling from the bones and working its way out.

It was not just frigid, but the night cast a shroud around the environment. Even the most hawkish of eyes would have trouble to see their feet below them or hands in front.

What madness would drive the cloaked person to sit and wait in the present conditions? Only in darkness did the answer lie, but only if one was foolish enough to wait for the answer to come to them.

Peeking behind small puffs of smoke was the moon, reluctant to shed light on the earth down below. It glowed an eerie yellow, almost unnaturally lit.

Few streams of light were cast through the canopy to create strange creatures and monsters that could only come out to roam on the darkest of nights.

Nights just like this one. A perfect night with the right combination of pitch black darkness and uncompromising cold for fear to take reign of people's minds. melding, manipulating, deceiving. all to suit its fancy.

So she had failed. He'd been a fool to trust that she could do it, even after training and months of planning. But it shouldn't have. He somehow knew in the back of his mind that this would happen. And then she couldn't even clean up the mission, but in her haste to try and make things better ended up in making them worse. Much worse, because now the Cinq Kingdom was on alert. Obviously guards would be around him all the time, any meetings would require ID, maybe even verification.

She failed, and now he'd have to kill her. Before they found out who tried to kill the future king.

He'd probably have to do it himself. And that's the last thing he wanted. A face to face meeting with him.

Pent up rage that had built up over the past week was finally let out as a harsh voice broke the dead silence: "Shit.! The plan was foolproof!"

And then silence reigned again.

Soooooo. was that worth the wait? I hope so! I left more clues, but trust me it's still not as clear as it might seem. If you think you know who did it, you never know, it could be someone else. The next few chapters will probably be the beginning of the action, and since I'm not too good with action expect another wait. Thanks for reading and please review!