Book Two: Return

Chapter 19: At Odds

An Escaflowne Continuation by Louise Tjandrasjahan

People in rags – filthy, and sometimes in several states of injuries. Unhealthy stench, one that seemed to offend her lungs forever. Crying babies. Weeping mothers. Thieves. Whores. Cripples.

Everything that comprised the life in the Fanelian dark alleys seemed to stare back at her with a vengeance. Hitomi bled inwardly, for she had never seen such horrors in her life.

A light tug on her cloak pulled her back to reality, and she turned to her companion, her gaze askance.

"Are you satisfied? Can we go back to the palace now?"

Hitomi smiled sympathetically. Ardine didn't seem any more comfortable having to face the more wicked side of Fanelia. Looking around her warily, she kept her arms around herself as a shield between her and the blank stares she received. A stranger to the darker aspect of life, the princess may soon change her way of thinking. Her trip with Hitomi was an eye-opener; although she wasn't sure why she wanted to keep the vision in her memory.

Hitomi had used her privilege as the queen to get her out of her little prisoner early morning when the whole castle was still sleeping. She then guided her quietly to fetch two fresh horses, and asked her to ride together to the slum part of the city. She gave her a pair of the scimitars she recognised belonged to her (!) but kept quiet when she asked her questions.

Apparently the queen trusted her enough not to run away when she appointed her bodyguard. "For a little exchange of fresh air," Hitomi had told her as she winked playfully, her careless attitude catching the younger woman off-guard.

Fresh air, indeed. The stench was truly a heady perfume perfect to boost her insanity, but she was too wary to even make the dry comment. Under her cloak, her hands never strayed from her scimitars, a shiver running down her spine as several eyes leered ominously at their figures. Three scoundrels – ragamuffins to be precise. Bony thin, but experienced street fighters. She was no match against the three of them.

Ardine glanced at her companion in concern. The queen wore male clothing for the excursion and seemed to be quite agile, but she knew – she just knew – Hitomi would never be able to fight should someone attacked. Their survival depended solely on her skill. Stories of Hitomi – the Phantom Moon Lady – from the days of the Great War had reached her ears from all over Gaea, and she had been eager to collect all versions of them from each of the visiting ambassador. Now that she looked at the Phantom Moon Lady in person, she was a far cry from the legendary character whose deeds had her eyes widened in fascination as a child. 

"This way!" Ardine found herself jerked back to reality as Hitomi pulled at her wrist and marched onward in determination. They went further and through a huge damp tunnel where – to the princess' surprise – more people built residence, more often with only a piece of musty wooden plank for their sleeping arrangement. Water dripped from the curved overlay, and despite her thick cloak Ardine shivered at the imaginary coldness when a drop eventually fell on her shoulder. People coughed and groaned. God knows how many germs floating in the air she had caught.

A case of whooping coughs erupted beside her, startling her out of her grim reverie. Quickly she jumped out of the way, although she couldn't help her curiosity and stared. When she was younger, her royal duty had included visiting sick houses to give the patients moral support, but never before she witnessed a person writhed and convulsed like the elderly man before her. Two bloodshot eyes flashed at her, catching her at the act of staring. She gasped in shame, although her curiosity dictated her to maintain eye-contact with the man.

The man finished with a loud retching sound, fresh blood pouring into his mangled hands as he collapsed against the cold stone walls. Ardine quickly distanced herself from him, a deep crease marring her beautiful face. There was nothing she could do for him. He would die. Only then he would be free of his sufferings.

She looked ahead only to find that Hitomi had walked further away from her. She seemed unruffled despite the unpleasant encounter with Fanelia's lowest caste. The place felt more like a den of sleeping tigers for her, but the queen merely observed everything dispassionately, as if she merely took a walk in her garden among the flowers. Ardine had seen grim etched at the corners of her lips, but never fear in her eyes. The question remained whether Hitomi was actually a wise or stupid woman who only acted on her impulse.

Nonplussed, she shook her head and ran after her companion until she levelled their steps and looked at her profile. The present Hitomi wore her hair long, but everybody still remembered her as a short haired adolescent. Another obvious difference. The real Hitomi matured, while Hitomi of the ballads did not.   

"What are you thinking of?" she eyed the older woman from the corners of her eyes, trying to coax her into telling the truth behind her desire to visit the slum. Hitomi had been pensive the whole trip, but again, she had no right to comment on the other's gloomy mood since she wasn't feeling any better herself.

Hitomi allowed herself a quick glance before giving Ardine a nonchalant answer, "Just curious."

Her greenish blue eyes gleamed knowingly as the younger woman muttered under her breath, and she had to press her lips together lest she broke into a smile. The princess needed to learn about patience in its many forms. She needed to learn when and where she should suppress her inquisitiveness. It was charming and refreshing of her, but at times it might only lead to her own ruin.

As the light was nearer and breathing became easier, Hitomi rearranged her hood to uncover her eyes and examined the district – Renegade's Haven. She had heard about the place as she struck a casual conversation with one of her maids, and had deduced the place as the perfect rendezvous for dark dealings and colleagues of spies. And more than often, sordid political affairs.

Yet, it was a total contrast from the hovel they had just passed. Bell towers were soaring high in the sky, doves flying over their heads as the bells filled the air with their melodious echoes. They reminded Hitomi of Notre Dame Cathedral that she had visited during one of her business trips to Paris. She could see why nobles and lower class citizens alike loved to visit the place despite its less-than-desirable history. People were milling about – nobles, merchants and low class prostitutes mingling together, shopping and admiring the colourful trinkets if not doing their trades. Tents were erected overhead, protecting passer-bys from the Fanelian fierce morning sun. Happy children chased each other around the town square, and perhaps some had been able to sneak their hands into people's alms purses. 

The innocent busy town square was a nicely deceiving scene, but it still wasn't enough to cover the stench of malice lurking. Hitomi's observant eyes caught little details normal people usually missed. Apparently her dealings with Journalists and Media during her brief career as a Public Relation Officer had enabled her to distinguish the undetectable. The air was crackling with tension despite the smiling and amiable faces around her, and there appeared to be an immense power in control behind the site's day-to-day operation. Something underground. Something that perhaps Van wasn't aware of. Or it could also be that he knew of the activity, but pretended ignorance while keeping a watchful eye over its development.

Personally, Hitomi herself had no idea whom she sought after, coming into the disreputable Renegade's Haven. He – for the moment she would like to think of it as a 'he' – had no name, no face, and even no clear description except the fact that people usually called him 'Larrikin' and he would do an 'errand' for a particular sum.

Hitomi didn't understand why she had the urge to meet this 'Larrikin' in person, but when she heard of him from one of the gossiping ladies – who pretended she knew more about politics than what her brain was actually capable of – she had been intrigued.

She was a person who acted on her intuition, and her faith in her instinct had rescued her and the people whom she loved most of the time. At the present time her heart told her to go even though she didn't know what would happen once she met this person, but she wasn't troubled.

To be honest, she didn't even know what to do if the person who she was looking for turned out to be a conniving bastard. She wouldn't have a clue except to run away as far as possible, or perhaps to present Ardine so she could hack him into pieces. She was confident she would know what to do when the time came.

A slow and secretive smile appeared on Hitomi's lips, causing Ardine's suspicion to heighten. "What's the matter?"

Shrugging her shoulders casually, Hitomi merely grinned as she enjoyed the younger woman's puzzled expression, "Nothing. I just want to say how much I appreciate your coming with me."

"So?"

"So…?"

An exasperated sigh. "What are we actually doing?"

Ah, a good question. "I have no idea. The first step is to find an inn that goes by the name of 'Dancing Bear'."

The princess couldn't resist grumbling despite years and years of instilled behaviour. "What kind of name was that?"

Hitomi merely shrugged and continued walking. Silence reigned between them, but it wasn't long before they heard somebody's stomach grumbling. At first, nobody was willing to admit themselves, but after a while, it turned out that it was Ardine's belly that was empty after all.

"I am hungry!" Ardine's wail almost sounded like a whine, and for once she sounded like the seventeen-year-old girl that she was. Hitomi simply had to laugh at the lapse of attitude on Ardine's part. The princess reminded her of her younger brother, and for once her head was filled with thoughts of longing…longing to be home back on Earth.

Blinking her tears away, Hitomi was relieved to finally find the big sign with the phrase 'Dancing Bear' printed on it and gently tugged on Ardine's arm to get her attention. Nodding back to her, the princess followed quietly, aware of the possible calamity they could be facing once their feet were over the threshold of odious little bar.

Hands trembling with anticipation, Hitomi opened the swinging door, half hoping her black cloak would at least obscure her presence from the bar's occupants. She was totally unprepared to witness the scene of argument and hear something that sounded very much like gunshot afterwards.

Asturia

Millerna Fassa Aston would have forgotten her position as the queen of Asturia, and that she currently was in the middle of Asturian Palace's gilded audience chamber, comfortably surrounded by many her entourages and subordinates if not for Dryden's presence by her side. In her shock she had risen slightly from her throne, her knuckles white from gripping the arm supports too hard. She could never accept what she had just heard, and it felt to her as if a thousand thunders echoing in her mind. She was half aware of people moving about her, concerns and queries written in their confused eyes, and her husband's strong hand putting a restraint on her left arm. Dryden's eyes were hard on her, their usually mild chocolate colours now blazing with warning.

Before her, Chid stood his ground without remorse, for he didn't even understand the appalling notion he had just uttered in the presence of his own aunt. In her repulsion, Millerna could only open and close her mouth as her mind was incapable of conjuring a suitable response. The only consolation that managed to flit into her mind was the fact that Chid didn't know the implication of his desire and how this affected his…future.

Chid's eyes bored into hers, puzzlement clearly written there. He believed he hadn't spoken things improper, and yet his aunt's reaction was very curious, indeed. "Celena is your lady-in-waiting, so I deem it appropriate to ask for your permission, Your Majesty." And he believed he was being proper by not familiarising himself with his aunt for at the moment they were standing before the royal Asturian entourages, where he considered the proper address of titles was necessary.

First things first, he had to find out what was behind his request that was so appalling.

"I would like your permission to court Celena formally. What say you of that, Your Majesty?"

This time Millerna didn't waste her time to gape. Sitting down on her throne gracefully, she quickly put the wheels in her mind into motion, assessing the situation and how it would affect Chid's public persona in Asturia. Chid was young and impossibly naïve. Often he forgot what he had said and done would affect how Freid would be viewed by her neighbouring country and that included the Asturian council. She might have been his aunt, but politics was still politics and it was cruel. Chid was careless in addressing such a private matter in a full audience.

Second, Chid seemed to overlook the age difference between him and Celena. Allen Schezar's younger sister was nine years older than her nephew, and the fact alone was enough to say that Chid's infatuation perhaps stemmed from his need of a mother. Fifteen was not too young an age to find one's true life mate, but let's just hope Chid's was a moment's infatuation…

…because she knew the truth. Chid must never know the fact that Allen Schezar was his true father, and it would be acrimonious to have to explain the fact to the young monarch. Chid adored the late Duke of Freid, and she didn't think he would ever be reconciled with the fact that Marlene had 'dallied' with another man before she was married to the father whom he knew.

It was also an appalling idea to have Chid courting his own aunt.

Millerna dared not catch Dryden's eyes, for she didn't wish the council to see the vulnerability in her. She had to think, and quick!

Taking a deep breath, Millerna decided to put off the matter entirely, "Your Grace, I believe this matter calls for a private audience. Don't you think?" From the corner of her eyes, she could see Dryden nodding his approval.

A small crease marred Chid's handsome countenance, but he was wise enough not to defy his aunt in a chamber full of Asturian nobles. He never wished to insult Millerna.

"As you wish, Dear Aunt."

Nodding in relief, Millerna signalled for the council to continue, and with the sound of the baton banging on the floor, the footman announced the next case of the day.

Asturia – Royal Garden

"The queen was aghast, My Lady."

Celena quietly listened to her maid's report, her hands busy selecting a bunch of pristine white roses she intended to use to decorate her and her brother's rooms. While she was doing it, she also kept one eye on Roja, who played not far from where they worked, chasing after a pair of yellow butterflies. Funny, the scene seemed familiar to her, but then again, there was a big period in her life in which she could recall nothing. It was disturbing, but she learnt to live with it. Shrugging, she returned to paying attention to what her maid had told her and lifted one fine eyebrow, silently giving her the permission to elaborate.

The maid inched forward, eager to share her tale. Celena was different from other ladies she had served in the past. The lady was that of cool nature, but at least she never yelled at her. More than often, she was willing to listen to her stories, unlike some other ladies who told her to shut her mouth.

"It was Lord Chid, My Lady. He intended to court you."

Celena's lips twitched in amusement, her golden curls bounced as she shook her head in amazement. "Your source?" she inquired softly. One must never take gossips for the real things.

"The Court Composer, My Lady. He was among the council when he witnessed the happening." The maid smiled in triumph, feeling confident that her mistress would be convinced of the authenticity of her news. Besides she didn't lie.

Another amused laugh and, "You dallied with the Court Composer." It was a statement, not a question. "No wonder he had dedicated his latest piece of music for this wistful country lady, bright and lively little thing." At least that was what he had said when he had presented his music. It was quite a funny little tune, Celena might add. It suited the characteristic of her maid.

The statement brought a becoming blush to the maid, but she was now determined to bring out her tale without further interruption. Clearing her throat ceremoniously, she lowered her voice as she finished, "There is the rumour that the queen has forbidden him to even lay a finger on you, My Lady, but I do believe things will get quite interesting in the future. I mean, His Grace Lord Chid was a young handsome thing, and it would be a waste to let go of him."

"Mind your tongue, Sabetha." The reprimand failed to carry on real threat despite its sharp tone, because of the laughter that bubbled at the back of Celena's throat. Truthfully, she found the situation rather amusing. She couldn't wait to see her brother's reaction.  

"Well, of course, it will be interesting to see Sir Allen's reaction."

Silence.

Celena gaped, finding it hard to believe that her maid had just read her easily. Sabetha often acted out of what was proper, but it was the first time she suggested as boldly a speculation as that. She was brave. Celena didn't think she would get away from punishment if she worked for other ladies. But again, Celena was not other ladies.

Crystal clear laughter rang in the air as Sabetha playfully avoided Celena's gentle swat and put a relatively safe distance between them. She hid behind a very confused Roja, who looked as if he was on the verge of asking questions loudly, and then exited the garden with a promise that she would fetch her mistress and her charge two glasses of nice and cool lemon tea.

Shaking her head lightly, Celena suppressed her mirth inside and focused her mind back on her work. Glancing toward Roja, she noticed that the little boy had lost his interest in the yellow butterfly and stared hard at her instead. Celena shrugged daintily. People often commented how disturbingly intense Roja's ruby eyes were, as if he had etched everything into his memory, but for her the intensity could only result from the sharpness of his mind. Even her brother found Roja disconcerting.

Her hand reaching out to Roja, Celena silently asked the little boy to come near. In the past few months they had taken Roja into their household, Celena felt a close affinity with him. Roja too, despite the distrust he displayed to others, he never failed to put his tiny hand unquestioningly into Celena's. As the boy came to her side, she wrapped one arm around the tiny shoulders and pressed his back to her bosom.

"Do you have something to say to me, Darling? Any secrets?"

His head shook. No. Not at the moment.

"You must be afraid. I guess it will be awhile before you overcome your fear and start talking again. Besides, don't you want to tell me about your family so that we can deliver you safely to them?" Even as she spoke of the possibility of meeting his family, she couldn't avoid the feeling of guilt that gnawed her heart, for inside she hoped she would never have to return Roja to his family.

"Perhaps he simply wanted to stay, my lady."

Celena started at the voice. It was the voice that had filled her dreams, the voice that had never escaped her mind since the first day she heard it. A smile adorned her lovely face as she lifted her face to meet the eyes of the newcomer, softly acknowledging his presence with a gracious nod.

"We meet again."

Celena swore the gentleman's eyes looked a fraction bigger and his grin brighter as he came into her vicinity. He seemed to be pleased to meet her as well. Yes, her silver-haired stranger. "I know you come from a respectable family. I sense it. So it shouldn't be a surprise that you pay the court a visit, but I still couldn't help but be surprised."

Her visitor lightly fingered her golden locks, his eyes dancing with laughter. "May be because you don't dare to keep your hopes high?"

Celena's eyes softened. "Perhaps,"

After that it was all silence. No one dared to breathe, afraid that the visions before them were unreal. They stood face to face, each admiring the other's countenance. The man was really quite magnificently dressed today. He wore a diamond studded circlet around his silver head, and his court dress had been tailored to fit his slender but muscular form, the stiff high neck collar emphasising on his height. He was elegant although it was clear that he didn't intend to dress to impress. The material of his clothing was of the best quality, and Celena swore that the lace adorning his ruffles was the one she had coveted in her last visit to her Mantua maker. Allen, playing the role of the know-it-all older brother a little bit too perfectly, had decided at that time that she had had enough gowns to last the season and had forbidden – forbidden for God's sake! – her to add another one to her purchase.

A tug on her skirt brought her back from her reverie and she was startled to feel Roja wedging himself between herself and the handsome man. A frown marred his young face as he looked at her and the stranger alternatively. Smiling, she took Roja's hand in hers and introduced him ceremoniously, "Oh, where are my manners! I'm honoured to introduce Master Roja, my one and only knight in shining armour, and…"

"Dilandau Albatou, my lady. And I would be grateful if you would count me as your protector as well."

A slight frown marred her smooth forehead as she registered the name into the memory. Dilandau Albatou? Where had she heard the name before? Curious, very curious indeed. It appeared as if she had been acquainted with the name at some point of her life. And a peculiar name such as his would not escape her sharp memory easily.

Celena bored her icy blue eyes into Dilandau's eyes, searching for something that might jog her memory. The object of her scrutiny looked back at her innocently, probably wondering about her sudden intensity in silence. Finally she merely shook her head and smiled ruefully to herself, for no matter how hard she searched her mind, she failed to recognise the person before her except for their recent encounter a few weeks ago.

Resuming her walk and rose pruning, she bestowed a sweet smile upon the man and nodded her assent to his previous statement, "Of course. You're very welcome, especially if you can fend yourself off my older brother's overprotective urge."

A bark of genuine laughter filled the air, and soon after Dilandau fell into step beside Celena, an amused grin plastered over his boyish features. "My lady, don't you worry. I'm sure I'm quite distinguishable from your other admirers and therefore your brother will not have any reason to dismiss me…"

Giving him an insufferable look, her lips curved in a mocking smile as she pointed out, "My lord, you are a scoundrel."

Another fresh gale of laughter. Celena smiled secretly. She loved his laughter. It created a warm fuzzy feeling in her.

There was the sound of the grass rustling not too far away from the place where they stood together, and suddenly Dilandau's face turned serious.

"I must go." Said he, and he turned on his heels without so much of a backward glance. Celena lifted one of her lean eyebrows. Something happened. Something that unnerved him. Her brother perhaps?

But it wasn't Allen who came.

It was Chid, and his deep blue eyes were filled with something that Celena couldn't fathom.

Still, she lowered her gardening knife and discarded her gloves to the nearest bench, readying herself for…something. A grim but determined smile decorated her face.

She was ready to talk.

Ispano

It was nearly impossible to determine the state of Parnall's mood. He was fine one time, drinking and joking with his entourage, but foul in another time, throwing harsh orders and even unleashing his anger at an innocent palace guard on the training ground. The poor guard was totally ruined, a fractured rib going straight into his right lung, not to mention bloody face and deep cuts around his body. The king seemed to be provoked by the most innocent comments in which his unsuspecting victims thought as compliments.

At the rate he was going, Parnall would soon lose his supporters among the aristocrats, although surprisingly, he had steadily accumulated admirers from the Ispanian commons. He had yet again reduced the land tax that had been a burden to Ispanian farmers and made noblemen paid tax as well. This caused uproar, both good and bad.

However, nothing had so far surpassed what decree he had ordered when he first ascended the throne of Ispano – the abolishment of beast people slavery. This was soon followed by a law that stated the punishment to illegal slave trade – which was yet to be taken seriously by the traders, and a decree that freed the beast people to acquire education and respectable occupations that only human could obtain before.

And Dallad would watch him. Carefully. He had been intrigued when Parnall first offered him the position as his agent, for he had been a being without value – a subject of experiment – when he had first met the young king. He had also been aware that his value in Parnall's eyes might stem from the fact that he had been involved in Project Dilandau Albatou as a young cat-man, but the real reason why Parnall had chosen him instead of other species that was certainly more superior to him remained hidden.

At one point of his career, Dallad had ceased to worry about Parnall's motive and came to do the young king's bidding without question, but recent events had brought the inquisitiveness back into his naturally curious mind.

The king appeared to be benign nowadays. His mind did not. Dallad could almost hear the wheels turning in his master's head, churning out plans yet to reveal. There was no more malignant accident after that happened to Lady Tita, but then again the whole harem was now wary of the king's unpredictable temperament.

Something was bound to happen – Dallad was very certain. At the moment, the king seemed to amuse himself by disguising himself and visiting Lady Merle in her gilded prison, but this would come to an end one day. There must be a purpose why he kept the cat-lady in his palace – perhaps as one of the potent weapons against the King of Fanelia. Dallad was unaware of any past history that caused Parnall to hate the Fanelian King, but considering Van's history with the cat-lady, Merle would be most useful for the future dealings with Fanelia.

A lot of unanswered questions.

"Dallad, what news do you have for me?"

Parnall's bored tone woke him up from his reveries. Eyeing his surrounding, he reminded himself again that he was here to give his young master the report of his investigation on the lower ranking lords presiding over Ispanian borders , and to judge whether those tribe leaders were threats to the stability of Parnall's government or not. Apparently they were not, but they were also not Parnall's firm supporters either. Dallad viewed this as an opportunity to gain their approval and strengthen Parnall's position, since these border landlords were apparently at odds with their mainland counterparts.

But first things first. He also had another important news to give.

"The Zaibachan Magicians have successfully replicated the structure of the Alseides ruin, Sire. They have also come up with a system that allows guymelefs to function without dragon-energists. We are now able to mass-produce Alseides for our army, My Lord."

Parnall's golden eyes lightened up in excitement as a smirk formed his lips, "Good news. I would probably visit the factory soon to attend the test drive."

"If it's not too bold, Your Majesty. I am asking you for the permission to speak." 

With a flick of his hand, Parnall gave his consent. Dallad looked at his surrounding just to make sure nobody was there to listen to their conversation. They were in Parnall's private office, but sometimes the walls had ears.

"Your lady-twin, Sire. What are we to do with her?"

Parnall arched a fine black eyebrow, interest twinkling in his amber eyes. After a moment of consideration, he answered, "I don't know."

Dallad raised his snowy eyebrows in astonishment. Was this a man who had raised an attack against another country just to have his sister's beheaded? But then again, Parnall had released Ardine. Perhaps there was some love between the siblings only that he hadn't realised it yet.

Perhaps he was just clouded by confusion.

Dallad had to know. He hated the feeling of travelling in a ship without a navigator. Parnall lacked focus and direction, and he didn't want his investigation to serve an evil purpose. For however ruthless the new king might be until now, he had believed there was honour and quality.  

"What is your intention, Sire?"

There was no answer but blank eyes staring ahead. Dallad suppressed the urge to turn on his heels and ran. He might have overestimated his lord, but stay beside him he must. For Parnall was the one who believed in him when others spurned him for his beastly heritage.

Merle's ears twitched at the sound of the door opening, and her heart sang in joy. It must have been that time of the day again. She wasn't exactly aware of the passing of time since her captor didn't allow opened windows, but somehow she always knew the exact moment of his visit. And anticipate each visit she did. Of course, she told herself that she tolerated the boy just because she was bored, but in truth, as her isolation had become more and more unbearable, his company was the only sunlight in her imprisonment.

She looked up the moment he stepped into the chamber, eager to hear the news from the outside world. Or at least, one of the many interesting stories the lad seemed to store in his head. He told him many legends of the ancient Ispano, its wars, its glories, its ancient race and their guymelefs…and lots of tales of sweat and blood and romance.

Her favourite was the story about a human princess who had become the concubine of the king. She was surrounded by all the riches that money could buy, but she was lonely, very lonely. The king adored her, but he merely saw her as a pretty toy, an ornament to be flaunted in his court.

The princess had a slave – a beast man – who had followed her since her childhood, and she had brought him with her when she moved into the palace. Their close proximity created the very best camaraderie, but this changed as they matured into adults. They made the greatest mistake in their life.

They fell in love.

They met each other secretly every night, not knowing that the king had got whiffs of their encounters. Then they planned to run away, together to a kingdom where beast-men were treated with kindness and seen as equal. But the king of that kingdom refused to grant them sanctuary and closed the gate on them. He hadn't even care to shelter the devastated couple for one night.

And the king's army had caught up with them. They were captured, the slave tortured, the princess imprisoned in the dungeon until the end of her life.

Merle frowned. There was something odd in the way he had told the story. Although his façade had been cool and his mannerism was like that of telling a fairytale to children, there had been burning intensity in his eyes, as if he felt the unfortunate couple's himself. Merle remembered. Parnall had paused for a while at the part where the king's army had captured the princess and the beast-slave, his eyes gazing far into an unreachable distance. When she asked him to continue the story, he looked slightly disturbed, his eyebrows furrowed deep as if he was thinking of the best way to end the story. At the end he snapped that both the princess and the beast-slave were dead and left the chamber briskly.

And then something dawned in her mind. The story was no fairytale; it was real! It was somehow related to Parnall – perhaps he was even the love child born between the couple. Freezing coldness travelled down Merle's spine. A long time memory surged, adding a piece to the completion of the puzzle.

She vaguely remembered that the late King Goau had refused to grant sanctuary to a travelling princess from Ispano. Van and she were too young to understand then, being merely eight and seven year olds, but she still remembered the angry murmur in which the people referred to the visitors. They were afraid of something, that was for sure.

Of course.

The relationship between the kingdoms was not so pretty at the time. That she realised, having studied the modern history together with Lord Van. Fanelia had just formed a shaky alliance with Ispano, and would dishonour the peace treaty by accepting the concubine and her lover. It would enrage the king of Ispano and would only result in unnecessary war. Fanelia had been a small kingdom before the Great War, and it would be terribly easy for Ispano to crush Fanelia with its hordes of guymelefs.

The wooden door creaked ever so slightly, causing Merle to look up in bewilderment. She saw Parnall closing the door behind him with a soft click, a slight smirk gracing his full lips. Of course. Those lips, the beautiful face features. Merle may only glance once at the princess, but she never forgot her beautiful grief-stricken expression.

Parnall must have been her child.

And those golden eyes…Golden was not human colouring. And it only existed among dog or wolf clans. That meant Parnall's father must have come either one of those two clans.

Something else sparked in her mind.

She had befriended the enemy.

Author's note:

Dear old Parnall. I know I suppose to hate him, but I couldn't help fall in love deeper and deeper. He's my baby – my original super villain. In this chapter, we learn some important facts about his past from Merle's perspective. Whether Merle's assumption is true or not, only Parnall can confirm. A lot of questions still remain, though. Ardine still doesn't understand why her beloved twin brother turned his back on her and why Parnall didn't kill her straight away while it is clear that he hated her gut.

And is it true that Parnall is using Merle? In what way?

What is the result of Hitomi's investigation? More troubles perhaps?

And is Dilandau Albatou really flesh and blood?

So many questions that I myself still don't know the answer. What do you think will happen next?

Anyway, thanks for your undying support. Without you guys I can't write this long. =)  

Until next time,

Louise Tjandrasjahan

9th of July 2004, 11.48 AM

Perth, Western Australia