Hey!

The oddest thing happened to me. I posted this chap on fanfiction yesterday, and today I went to the sight, and my new chap was w/ the story. Then, later, I went to the site again, and the new chappie was gone! In fact, everything on the Ella Enchanted page was as it was a couple of days ago... it like rewinded or something! So now, I'm posting this chap a second time - I'm determined to get it up for you guys before I leave for camp in LA tomorrow. Many thanks to Mandy, Fairlycertain, Riley, and Kara for the encouraging reviews! Gemma is back in this chappie, along w/ Wayne. I lot is explained, so the story will be less confusing (I hope). Alright, read on, and enjoy!

Chapter Six

A harassed-looking Ella sped along the corridor, down a steep flight of marble steps, and into the front entrance of the palace kitchens.

She grabbed a mug of mulled wine from one of the servants, and quickly gulped it down, scanning the busy room for Mandy.

"Lady?" A broad hand set itself firmly, yet gently, on her shoulder. Mandy turned Ella around by the shoulders to face her. When she saw the princess's strained, pale features, she whipped a container of tonic from her apron, along with a wooden spoon.

"Sit down, lass. What's afoot?" The cook attempted to keep her usual calm, but Ella's face was a tad frightening – very unusual. Ella grimaced at the taste of the tonic as it slithered down her throat, but her face did regain some of its original color.

"Mandy, you need to speak with... with Katrina." The fairy snorted. "What's the little missy gotten herself into now?"

Ella shifted. "It's not like that", she said quietly, leaning closer to her godmother across the table. "This morning, she said something... completely out of the blue and unreasonable. I've never seen her like she was then – she looked half insane!"

Mandy's eyebrows inched closer together into a tight frown. "And, pray tell, what was it our princess said?"

Ella swallowed, surveying the room and wiping a kerchief across her sweat-soaked brow. Then, leaning in once more, she voiced the past event to Mandy. The cook, to Ella's surprise, didn't squawk about the foolhardiness of Katrina.

Instead, Mandy leaned back in her seat, her frown changing to a look of deep thought and just a smidge of surprise. "That's... very interesting", she murmured quietly, gazing into the flames of the kitchen fire beyond their table. "Very interesting, indeed. I need to have a chat with our little mistress."

Gemma shifted impatiently. Eleanor had told her to wait in the courtyard at ten, and it was already half past. The Queen hadn't appeared.

A biting wind swept through the courtyard, and Gemma couldn't help feeling a tiny shiver along the small of her back. The footman, waiting with her for the Queen's arrival, cast her a worried glance.

"Are you cold, my Lady? Shall I have a second cloak sent for?"

Gemma snapped her head up, surprised, still not used to the courtesy extended to her here. Smiling at the footman, she pulled her own cloak tighter around her body as dead leaves scattered with the wind by her feet.

"No thanks, I'm fine."

Maybe the Queen had been delayed because of her daughter. Perhaps Katrina was throwing a fit because she didn't want to be in Gemma's company. The thought of the princess thrashing around made Gemma snigger. If she didn't run into Katrina today, she would confront the princess about her odd behavior soon enough... "Lady Gemma?"

For the second time that day, Gemma whipped her head around, startled, in the direction of her name. Her eyes landed on Wayne, sitting casually astride a chestnut mare. Her face lit up; she couldn't help herself. He was the only familiar person to her inside this enormous place. Feeling the scrutinizing gaze of the footman upon her, she dropped a quick curtsy, shooting Wayne a half-smile.

"What brings you here?" he asked, easily swinging himself from the saddle. "Standing in the courtyard like a piece of stray baggage?"

The last part was uttered too quietly for the footman to overhear, and elicited a piercing glare from Gemma. "I'm waiting for the Queen", she informed Wayne. It was just her luck – the only person she knew, besides the king, queen, and princess (whom hated her utterly), was a rude boy.

A rather helpful rude boy, as it turned out to be. "Ella is occupied with Kat", Wayne said, a little grin creeping across his face. "Apparently, the princess had a slight problem this morning."

Aha, with Kat he meant the princess. Gemma smiled bitterly. "More like temper tantrum, you mean", she remarked caustically. Wayne chuckled. "You didn't hear it from me."

His eyes turned to the footman. "You can go, I'll escort her to the Queen, since the Queen herself is currently unable to be here." The footman looked relieved, and hurried off to warm his hands inside by some hot fire.

Gemma shot Wayne a critical look. "I don't think her majesty will think highly of me if I just pop in on one of her daughter's little breakdowns."

Wayne cocked his head. "Oh, that", he remarked. "No, I'm not taking you to the Queen yet. I'll show you the palace first. You know, give the royals some time to collect themselves. Besides, you haven't met Sebastian, have you?"

Gemma raised her eyebrows. "Sebastian? I don't know any Sebastian's." Wayne sighed in mock exasperation. "I meant the prince. He's a wonderful laugh, when he's not around any of that stuffy high-society folk. Then, he's all formal, polite and stiff, like his father."

Gemma sniggered at the irony – Wayne, Sebastian's best friend, was part of that stuffy, high-society folk himself. Well, perhaps not so stuffy. He only extended severe formalities around people they didn't know well. When he was alone with her, he seemed much more at ease...

"Wayne, darling!" A high-pitched, girlish voice rang through the warm air of the corridor. Wayne's head snapped up, and his face paled. "Oh, cow shit on toast", he swore under his breath, earning a surprised look from Gemma. Without hesitation, he dashed around the corner and into a small, elaborately carved broom closet. The dry click of the door closing resounded through the air just as a beautiful, yellow-haired wench swept around the corner, flanked by two wasp-thin, pale, fashionably dressed ladies.

She looked around her imperiously, and her gaze fell on Gemma. She raised her perfect brows. Here was a girl, obviously titled and rich, as one could tell from her apparel, that she had never seen before. How could this be? Had this wench possibly been with her fiancée? Perhaps they were secretly involved, and that was why she had never had a glimpse of the strange girl before...

Oh, well. She would lure the girl's secrets from her, in time. For now, she would just have to be plaintively sweet. Sweeping a graceful curtsy, Lady Alicia smiled at the girl before her.

"Good day, Lady", she simpered, her voice practically dripping with honey. "I'm Alicia of the Stokes estate. I've been part of Frell's high society all my life, and I've known all it's important young ladies." Here, she paused in order to give the girl a chance at introducing herself. The lass said nothing, only looked at her steadily, one eyebrow slightly arched. An uncertain smile tugged at the corners of the girl's rosy lips.

Wayne, hearing every word through the paper-thin walls of the closet, rolled his eyes in disgust. Alicia's introduction was so like herself – sickly sweet and snobby.

"It seems we haven't met, however", Alicia rounded off her speech. Gemma dropped the tiniest curtsy, liking Alicia less and less by the second.

"Gemma of Eldred. Pleased to make your acquaintance." At those words, she couldn't keep her sardonic smile from growing just the tiniest of bits. Wayne, still pressing his perspiring backside against the closet wall, noticed the twinge of sarcasm in Gemma's lilting voice.

Alicia widened her large, blue eyes. "Of Eldred?" A tinkling laugh escaped her throat. "You are the daughter of Lord Frederick!" She poked Gemma in the chest when she said 'You'. "Oh, he was such a charming old man." Turning to her two sidekicks, she giggled. "Remember that deep, rich voice he had? And those rogue-like green eyes..." she heaved a melodramatic sigh, batting her long lashes at the spotless marble ceiling. Gemma widened her own eyes in disgust. Was the girl seriously speaking of her father in a, well, flirtatious manner?

"It's been a pleasure meeting you, darling. I'm actually in search of my fiancée, I thought I heard his voice along this corridor." With these words, she threw a half pout-y, half suspicious look around the hall. "You haven't seen him, have you, darling?"

Wincing at her new pet name, Gemma innocently eyed the girl before her, widening her own eyes. "Oh, no. I just lost my footman, who was escorting me to see the Queen. I haven't had a run in with anyone." Then, Alicia's words registered, and she had trouble suppressing shock. This morbid creature was marrying Wayne? Not that it mattered to her, of course.

But – mischievous, at times helpful (she admitted this to herself grudgingly), sometimes interesting (she also admitted this to herself grudgingly) Wayne? They were no match, as far as she was concerned.

Her thoughts were interrupted as Alicia curtseyed to her once more. "Darling, it's been wonderful meeting you. I simply must spend some more time with you – in fact, I'm quite taken with you. Might I meet up with you? I'll send a messenger as soon as a I have a spare moment."

Laughing one last time, Alicia disappeared around the corner, leaving a groaning Gemma behind. She didn't think she could bear one hour in the company of Alicia... Wayne had a lot to make up for.

She glared at him as he stepped from the closet. "Firstly, you owe me big time. Thanks to you, I will now be forced to spend numerous hours in her company! Secondly, why didn't you mention that you had a - "

Wayne cut her off. "Gemma", he said, more serious than she'd heard him, "A few hours is nothing compared to a life time. I'm marrying Lady Alicia, remember?" He sighed, and suddenly his face lost its light, carefree expression.

Gemma wasn't an idiot, and it wasn't hard to see that Wayne wasn't marrying Alicia for love. "It's obvious you're not interested in a marriage with her, so why marry her?" she questioned frankly. "You're noble, you can marry whoever you want."

Wayne's face grew expressionless. All the humor and fun had whooshed right out of him. "I'm marrying her for my family. They were crushed after my Father's death, and me marrying Alicia will make them happy again – it'll give them the girl they love..." although I can't imagine why someone would love her, he added silently to himself, "...and more wealth. It's been hard; father's duties to the crown were well paid. With just me left, the pay's been cut in half..." he drifted off, and Gemma wondered if her regretted telling her that much.

"I'm sorry about your father. I didn't know he was dead." It was the only thing she could think of to say. Wayne looked surprised. "Didn't you? My father was great friends with yours, and he died defending Frederick."

Gemma stared at him. "Defending my father from what?"

Wayne shook his head, black locks flying. "Don't you know anything? Hasn't anyone told you about the men who were after your father, and tried to kill him?" When Gemma just threw her hands in the air from exasperation, making it clear she had no idea what he was talking about, Wayne began the tale.

" Frederick returned home several times in the weeks before the assassin attempt to find his private rooms in a mess, and searched. He used his means of protecting his possessions, but the men who stood against your father returned at least three times. Then, one night on a full moon, your father went out for a ride, unaccompanied. My father had watched him do so, several times, and finally followed Frederick into the forest out of fear for his friend, and concern." As if to defend his father's honor, Wayne quickly added, "he didn't mean to be nosy, and Frederick's life was saved that night by my father.

"The assassins trailed your father into the forest, and overran him there. Perhaps you've heard that your father was a skilled swordsman, although if no one has told you so, I'm not surprised. You don't seem to know much of him at all."

He gave Gemma a sideways glance. "A mysterious relationship between you and father, Gemma." She bit her lip and motioned for him to continue. With a sigh, he did so.

"Frederick killed several of his opponents on the spot, but he was hopelessly outnumbered. Just as the hooded men were about to overrun him, my father stepped in. They fought together, side by side." Wayne grinned, but it wasn't merry. There was a streak of sadness woven into the corners of his mouth. "Our fathers trained together often as swordsmen. You're father taught me quite a bit with the blade."

Gemma knew this tale had a sad ending, but she was stricken nonetheless. "It looks as though they were close friends", she murmured softly as they turned into a narrow corridor. "Please, I'd like to hear the rest."

"My father was attacked from the back while blocking a fatal blow aimed at your father's throat." Wayne's upper lip was sporting tiny pearls of cold sweat; Gemma noticed. He took a deep breath, staring unseeingly into the air before him. Gemma nudged him. "You can finish telling me the tale another day. It's... hard on you", she reflected, something that was surprisingly difficult to say to him. Wayne shook his head, large green eyes riveted on her face. "It's not just my tale. It's yours, too. Frederick was your father, and you have a right above anyone else to know this."

"My father fell at Frederick's feet, and Frederick finished off the last of them in his sadness and anger. Three weeks later, the assassins killed Frederick, too. He had no one by his side, then, and their number was even greater." Gemma had learned not to care for her father in the past four years, and she didn't care much that he was dead. But now, she felt a twinge of sadness. Her father had fought side by side with such a good man. Had he truly been the vile creature she'd thought him to be?

"You don't seem very grieved." Wayne's voice penetrated her thoughts. For the first time, she didn't glare at him, or scowl, or speak to him with sarcasm or irony in her voice. "I am grieved, for your father. He died honorably, and seems to have been, well... a wonderful person." A full smile lit her face, and Wayne felt his skin grow a tinge warmer.

Gemma's smile melted away. "In accord to my own father, I stopped truly knowing him almost four years ago."

Wayne shook his head. "The mysterious father-daughter relationship." Seeing her closed face, he put up his hand. "You needn't say anything now, but I'll wager that, one day, you'll explain it to me."

Perhaps she would tell him how her father had deserted the family – once she had answers as to why.

"You know", Wayne told her thoughtfully, "right before my father died, he told me something strange."

Gemma raised her brows, a bit of her old self back in her voice. "That's surprising. Everything else about their circumstances seems to have been perfectly normal."

"No, really." A breeze, scented of autumn rain, blew through a small open window of colored glass. "He grasped my hand, telling me how gloriously his best friend finished off the last of the opponents. Not with the sword, he proclaimed, but with his... hands."

"He strangled them? I didn't know he was skilled at hand-to-hand combat, too", Gemma threw in wryly.

"Not like that", Wayne muttered. "He had light in his hands, my father said. 'He defeated them with the light', were his exact words." Gemma was quiet only for a minute. "Fire, maybe", she volunteered. Wayne frowned at her. "No, Lady Gemma. Pure light."

She had nothing to say to that. It seemed impossible, and perhaps Wayne's father had been hallucinating. He had been near death... when she mentioned this idea to Wayne, he muttered darkly. "No. I looked into my father's face, then, and what I saw was pure, true awe – not a dying man's madness..." They drifted off into wondering, almost peaceful silence, until a girl's voice shattered the quiet.

"...Stand on the highest balcony in this palace and scream to the entire kingdom what you did to me..." a raspy cough followed, and then a husky chuckle. Wayne stood frozen in the center of the corridor; hand on the hilt of his dagger. "Kat", he croaked. "Gemma, I think that's Kat... someone's in there with her." Moments later, his suspicions were confirmed.

"My little princess – is your brother's life not important to you?"

Wayne grabbed Gemma's hand with such force that she yelped, and pushed her against the opposite wall. "Stay here, I'll deal with this man", he snarled, sliding his dagger from its sheath. Grabbing the door handle, he yanked on it with all of his strength. It didn't budge. He threw himself against it, slammed his foot into the surface – nothing. From inside, there was the sound of a last choke, then the thump of something hitting the ground. A man's cold chuckle filled the air...

And Gemma's throat tightened, not from tears, but from a burning anger, welling up inside her. She felt that she was in a familiar presence, and she wanted revenge, for what, she wasn't certain, but she wanted to crush, to tear... the sensation of anger crashed against her abdomen, making her double over in pain. She clenched her fists, feeling the burning adrenaline energy of her desire for vengeance flow from her abdomen to her stomach, threading its way around her belly-button, shooting straight up her chest, through her throat – that stage was painful, she gasped, longing for the familiar, cool air to ease the fire, and then relented as the pain began to ebb away – the hot sensation was spreading past her shoulders, down her arms – through her blood veins, making the red liquid boil. Raising her arms instinctively up from the wall, she brought them together before her as the fiery energy poured into her hands, making her fingers bulge. The skin on her hands felt raw, as if it were about to burst... and then, it did, making her scream her pain to the cold evening air. Staring in half horror, half fascination down at her hands, she nearly screamed again – they were filled with a vibrant, pure green light, but the pain was relinquishing its terrifying hold on her. She was dimly aware of Wayne staring at her, his lips formed her name, and she thought she heard the phrase; "Just like your father" escape his mouth...

Barely considering her next action, she brought her fists to rest against the lock, and for one moment, she felt almost calm – secure, in control. Powerful.

She shoved the light through the lock, shattering it. The impact sent her reeling back against the opposite wall – someone's hand snaked around her arm, forcing her to stay on her feet.

The light's purpose was done, and it seeped back into her hands, leaving the skin unblemished, unmarked. She felt it receding, moving back through her arms, shoulders... past her chest, back to just below her bellybutton. She felt suddenly very light, and extremely air-headed. Her skull seemed to be filled with fluff, and she couldn't keep upright, nor think straight... she seemed to be slipping...

Meanwhile, Wayne, forcing his shock back and stormed into the room, setting his dagger at an unprepared Prince Conrad's throat. The green light bursting through the door, causing the floor and ceiling alike to tremble, had been enough to temporarily distract the Chitin Prince. Now, blazing green eyes were boring into his face, flush with hatred.

"I would slit your throat, Conrad, if there wasn't peace between our countries to uphold and if I didn't want you to explain the reason for this - " he spit the word, jerking his head in the direction of Princess Katrina's slumped figure "– first."

Not a centimeter of fear flickered over Conrad's face – just a smidge of uncertainty, and a great deal of smugness. "Your little friend responded very rudely to my generous offer. She upset my honor."

Wayne tightened the blade. "Honor? Choking a princess who refuses your marriage proposal and dissatisfies your greed? If that's honor, I'm pink toad", he spat. The prince had the grace to look lightly surprised. Wayne only pressed him against the wall. "Wipe that stupid look off your face, you perverted, twisted... too long have you watched Katrina! I've known you've had marriage on your mind for weeks, you slimy grit. I'm taking this matter to their majesties – all of them, and I'm taking the princess with me. She will be closely guarded, and if I ever see you so much as watching her shadow again, I will beg to have you locked up myself!"

Conrad smirked. "If you or the wench in the corner talk at all, you'll be taken for senile." The smirk turned to a sneer. "The princess remembers nothing of the last hour. In order to frame me, you'll need her to testify, and since she won't remember our moment together, you and pretty green-eyes will be taken for crazy. We'll see who's locked up then."

Masking his amazement at all the strange power surrounding him – first Gemma, with light in her hands just like her father, except this light was as green as her own eyes, and then Prince Conrad, with something inside him Wayne couldn't even begin to understand – Wayne eyed Conrad with cold venom.

"If you've removed the princess's memory as boldly as you claim, why not do the same with me and the Lady?" he questioned, his voice icy.

Something flickered in Conrad's eyes, contempt and annoyance. His gaze swept from Wayne to Gemma, her head slumped back against the wall, eyes closed, and back to Wayne. "You are fortunate this time. The wench has her defenses, and they cover you. When we meet again, the circumstances you'll be in may not be so fortunate as now."

Wayne couldn't believe this. He stood here, protected by a green light of power, with his dagger at a villain's throat, and couldn't do anything, or see that anything was done, as punishment. Perhaps Gemma, with her light, would be able to reverse what Conrad had done to Katrina's memory... keeping his dagger at Conrad's throat, Wayne hoisted Katrina over his shoulder – a simple feat, she was very small.

No emotion betrayed Conrad's expressionless face, but the pure hatred boring into his face from the young man's eyes would later come back to him on sleepless nights, leaving him not undaunted.

Sliding his dagger back into its sheath, Wayne turned sharply on his heal and made his way to the wall, where he shook Gemma's shoulder. Numbly, she got to her feet, wobbled, and nearly collapsed again. Wayne clamped his hand firmly around her upper arm, steering her quickly from the room.

Conrad was about to turn away, but stopped when the girl swiveled her head around to stare at him. Gemma felt a tug at her insides, this man was familiar to her - he had broken something inside her life, and she could barely place her finger on what it was. Her befuddled mind kept leading her back to her father, but she was too exhausted to draw any sort of conclusion.

Not only Gemma felt a tug of familiarity. Conrad knew that face staring hatred at him, at was the slender, deep brown-haired version of a man's face whom he had sent his men to kill, weeks ago. The large, green eyes in that face unsettled him - they were identical to the powerful sorcerers', and held a power to match the dead Lord Frederick's, too - perhaps even Conrad's own. It wasn't just that which un-nerved the Chitin Prince. Like the lad's eyes, these green orbs promised vengeance, with a force behind the feeling that threw Conrad.

He didn't assume that the sorcerer's daughter, nor the man, would utter as much as a tone to the monarchs about his excursion with the princess. They would take some course of action, that was clear, but their move would take time - and give him the time he needed to crush the Lady and reach the princess - and the further object Conrad desired.

I'm so glad I finally got this chappie done! I really, really hope you guys enjoyed reading it. I'll post Chapter Seven when I get back from LA - it should be up in about two weeks. Ok, please, please R&R? For me? Please with a pretty cherry on top? ::puppy eyes::