Chapter Seven

She could barely remember how she reached the manor. All she recalled came in little scraps – Wayne turning Katrina over to her chamber maid, telling the girl a monstrous lie about the princesses condition. Wayne tugging her into a carriage, and Wayne nearly dragging her up the manor steps, where a very concerned Rebecca had greeted them. She remembered Rebecca flashing Wayne an angry look, thinking that he'd harmed Gemma in some way – before Gemma had blearily assured the maid that she'd felt nauseous from lack of food, and that Wayne had been so kind as to escort her back to the Delran manor.

She'd been pushed up the stairs by a fussy Rebecca, been tucked into bed by a fussy Rebecca, and had platters of food heaped upon her by an even fussier Rebecca... and then, she had fallen into a heavy, dreamless sleep.

When she awoke, she had a splitting migraine and was forced to call for Rebecca, who immediately shoved some herbal medicine down her throat – medicine so disgusting that it nearly came back up in a slimy green mess.

Now, she was softly shaken awake, by – guess who – Rebecca, of course. The sun was high in the sky – it looked to be about noon. Gemma, with assistance from Rebecca, slowly sat up in bed, her back padded by several fat cushions. She shot a questioning look at Rebecca.

"Lady Gemma, you have a visitor", she voiced, giving the girl in bed a lusty wink. "A fine morsel of manliness, if I do declare so myself. It's about time you awoke. He's been here to call upon you each day since he brought you home – Lord Wayne, that is. Three days in a row he's stood upon our doorstep - "

Gemma flew up in bed. "Three days! I've been asleep for three days?" Grabbing Rebecca's shoulders, she began to hoist herself out of bed. "Why didn't you wake me before? Wayne's message is bound to be important, and here I am, sleeping away, while the princess has forgotten everything and that rotten prince is on the loose..."

Leaving an extremely confused Rebecca behind (not confused enough to mutter about Gemma being on first name terms with the Lord Wayne, nevertheless), Gemma ran (more correctly, stumbled) from her bedchamber, ignoring Rebecca's cries of "Lady Gemma, you left your robe... in nothing but your nightgown... hair in tangles..."

She stumbled through the hallways, down the main banister, and tripped, causing her to fall down the last few steps. She landed in a heap at the foot of the stairs, eliciting a loud curse and giving Wayne, who'd been waiting impatiently in front of the fireplace, half a heart attack. He dropped the battle helmet he'd been examining onto his foot, making him swear in a guardsman's colorful language. Hurrying over to Gemma, he held out a hand, which she took and nearly wrenched out of its socket by pulling herself up with several strong jerks.

Wayne opened his mouth to say something, but it just dangled there loosely. Gemma's skin was so pale that it was nearly translucent, her hair was sticking out at all angles in crude snarls, she was shivering in her nightgown, and she sported dark half-moons beneath her eyes, which blazed in startling contrast to her pale skin. She looked, in one word, sick.

Gemma, who was fully aware of Wayne's shock, just glared at him. "Don't give me that look. If I hadn't been there, he would've zapped you with a lightening bolt, or something. You owe me."

In truth, the mere mention of any kind of magic was enough to make her sick all over again. She wasn't prepared to think about what had come out of her three days ago – it had come without warning, yet told her instinctively what she had to do... it had torn open her hands, but left no blemish... it frightened her and fascinated her at the same time. At that exact point in time, the second feeling was at a minimum, while the first had a stronghold in her chest. She couldn't let Wayne know this, however, and so she just continued shooting him angry looks, covering her fear with a façade of sarcasm and snappiness.

"I would be laughing at your fall back there and at your face right now if the situation weren't so serious, Gemma", Wayne told her. Checking the drafty hall for servants, he pulled her over to a couch in the corner. "I've tried hinting to the princess about what happened, but she remembers nothing. The time she spent with Conrad is just... gone from her memory; nonexistent." He paused, green eyes turning a shade darker. "And the prince is pompously stalking through the hallways, smirking, and... there's nothing I can say, to anyone."

Gemma brought her hand to her head as another spasm of pain shot through her temple. "But... you come from a respected family. Isn't there anyone who'd hold you to your word?" She couldn't help the trace of shortness in her voice.

Wayne shook his head. "I don't want to risk it." He sighed, scrutinizing her pale face. "I'm seeing what that... thing did to you, Gemma – but couldn't you bring Katrina's memory back again, by using it?"

Her face paled, if possible, to an even greater degree. To just talk of her power made her sick – but this! Calling on it again! She knew that she and Conrad had a history in the past, albeit an unknown one, and that he was up to no good. He was power-hungry; he longed for something, and that something perhaps included the princess; perhaps it did not, but she was certain that there was also something else that the Chitin prince desired...

And how she knew all this, she wasn't sure, but for now it made sense to her, and she clung to it... she didn't know anyone else around her with what she'd seen in herself, and there was no one, not even Ingrid and Maddie, whom she trusted enough to confide this in. She couldn't just call on it again; she needed guidance! The thing would probably eat her alive if she didn't know how to control it!

If your father were still alive, he would be able to guide you, a voice in her mind reflected. He had something similar, after all...is that why he left you and your family...? She pushed that last bit aside; she had enough to think about without that thought right now! But, the voice was right – her father would have been able to guide her...

She looked up at Wayne, a dim flicker of hope in her eyes. "Do you know of anyone besides your own father who knew mine very well? Very well?"

When he looked confused, she hurried to explain: "I can't call on it again by myself, Wayne. It'll... I'm not sure, but it could take me over, liking nothing else."

Wayne glared at her for the first time since they'd met, and it was a glare not unlike her own. "Gemma, Kat is being made into a puppet and you're too afraid to use you own... thing!", he cried, grabbing her wrist. "You don't understand, he's taking her over and you're just sitting by idly - "

That was the wrong thing to say. Eyes flashing, Gemma wrenched her wrist out of his grasp. "No, you don't understand! You weren't in my shoes when that thing flared up through my body and just came out of my hands, and completely took me over! You didn't feel as if you were on the verge of being eaten alive by some green flame!" Snarling, she stepped away from him. "I know that the prince is up to no good! I'm not an idiot! I'm aware of the fact that Katrina needs help, but I can't help her now without risking being dead, and if I end up dead by trying to help her now, then you'll be on your own!"

Tears of anger and fear were threatening to spill out of her eyes, and she turned away. She didn't want this! It was already making her life miserable!

She nearly experienced a heart attack as she felt a strong arm curl around her shoulders from behind. There was a pause in which she stiffened, barely breathing.

Then, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that... just lost control..." he sounded genuine. "Just, Kat means, well..." he blushed. "Kat means a lot to me, and I've never been so concerned about her." Another pause. "I won't mention it again until we've found someone to 'guide' you, alright?"

His arm was still around her shoulders, and she could smell his skin... wood-smoke mixed with a noble scent that she couldn't name... she felt resentful towards Katrina, who meant so much to Wayne...

What on earth was she thinking? Quickly, she stepped away from him, not meeting his eyes. "It's fine", she told him shortly. Then, forcing some of her old sarcasm back into her voice, she asked, "And where do you propose we find these connections that my father had?"

Wayne nodded at the banister. "You're father's study." They dashed up the steps, Wayne in the lead. As he lead her through a maze of corridors, Gemma realized how little she truly knew about her father's house. Finally, they arrived in front of a set of heavy wooden double doors, twice Wayne's height, which was saying something. The doors stood open a crack, which caused Wayne to raise his eyebrows.

"I hope we'll have some privacy in here", he remarked as he fully pushed open the doors – and stopped.

At least two dozen servants were milling about, moving old books, small lamps, shelves, desks, immense stacks of papers, locked cases... everything, around. They looked up in mild surprise at seeing Lord Wayne, who had been a regular visitor of Lord Frederick's, and Gemma, Lord Frederick's daughter, clad in a thin nightgown and looking incredibly ill, together in the threshold. Then, they hurriedly bowed or curtsied, and resumed their work.

"Privacy, my ass", Gemma muttered quietly as she surveyed the room. "Did your father have a study?" she asked in an exasperated tone. She didn't have to say more. Wayne wheeled around, leading them back to the banister. "Get dressed", he ordered, I'll be waiting here. We'll ride to my manor and search the place."

Gemma nodded conspiratorially and stumbled back to her rooms, where an out-of-breath Rebecca intercepted her, demanding that she get back under the covers.

"If it's not too bold to say so, I understand that you've made a fine new conquest with Lord Wayne, milady, but this isn't the time to just go riding off into some sunset! You should be in bed, resting, until your strength returns..."

Gemma could feel her face heating up. "That is too bold, Rebecca. Lord Wayne and I are nothing but companions, and he needs to hand something of my father's back to me, and that something just happens to be located at his manor." Rebecca looked only halfway convinced, but prepared Gemma's clothes for her nonetheless.

Twenty minutes later, Gemma descended the stairs in a spring-green gown, meant to bring out her eyes. Rebecca had only pale-colored dresses for her; most court ladies wore them to bring out their milky complexions and dainty figures. Most court ladies, however, were also accustomed to riding sidesaddle in their long, pale, everyday gowns – but not Gemma. She was accustomed to riding, but only in the western fashion, and the long dress only got in her way as she tried to swing one leg over the horse's rump. The fine strands of hair that Rebecca had so neatly combed only got into her eyes, and her cloak hit her in the face continuously as the wind picked up its pace.

Wayne had trouble containing his laughter, but they were in a rush, so eventually he just tossed Gemma up into the saddle and told her to hold on tightly – and so they rode off.

The manor in which Wayne lived was very similar to that of Gemma's, but more compact, with more expensive-looking furniture crammed into its interior and a sickly sweet scent of perfume in practically every room. Gemma wrinkled her nose, sneezing continuously. "What – what's that stench?" She gasped out between sneezes.

Wayne just shook his head, rolling his eyes. "My mother's and sister's perfumes", he answered. "They're both very... attracted to those sort of things."

Imitating him without even realizing it, she shook her head too, clamping a hand over her nose. Wayne lead her to a smaller set of double doors than the ones leading to her father's office, fumbled in his pockets for a small key, and opened the door. In here, everything was neat and completely spotless – and there was no smell of perfume, fortunately. Gemma inhaled deeply, relieved.

The inside of the office was disorganized. Papers and books were scattered everywhere, some lamps were on, some off. It was as if someone had left the room very suddenly. Gemma noticed that Wayne's face had tightened. It was obvious that he was setting foot into his fathers office for the first time after his father's death.

In order to distract him, Gemma quickly walked into the center of the room. "Well – I'll begin!" she declared in a falsely bright voice. "Erm..." she grabbed a pile of envelopes, which were lying on the edge of the main desk. She opened each one while Wayne slowly came into the room. She reviewed the letters' contents, and put them back the way that they'd been before. It was all about business, nothing personal. She grabbed a second stack, and began again, Wayne joining her.

"No, just a meeting..."... "Carriage arrangement"... "Shipment from Sicilian"...

Three hours later...

"There's absolutely no trace here of any personal contact whatsoever", Gemma yelled across the room, tossing the envelopes she'd searched to the ground. Wayne, who was sitting in a window seat flipping through a large stack of further letters, looked up and heaved an exasperated sigh, his dark hair falling into his eyes. "He had to have some sort of idea written down somewhere about the personal contacts of your father..." Wayne trailed off, staring down at the next letter in front of him. "Look at this!" he yelled triumphantly.

Gemma nearly tripped over a stool in her relieved rush to get to him. "It's addressed to Lord Frederick", she said with relief. "Finally."

Eagerly they opened the letter.

My Dear Friend, began the salutation...

Hi!

No, I'm not dead. Alive, and very, very busy. Yeah, I know, it's not the most original excuse, just like this chapter is not the most exciting chapter. In the next chapter, however, we FINALLY meet Sebastian! Lol, the moment many people have been waiting for. This chapter had to be posted, because it's necessary to the plot, okies? And yes, I'll have my next chapter up MUCH sooner than last time, I promise. If possible, even this weekend.

Now, R&R, por favor?

Please?

#places cherry on top#