Author's Note: My it's been a while since I updated! My sincere apologies to everyone who has been waiting for this update! I have not forgotten but time seems to slip away when you're busy dealing with life.

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"I remind myself that lies are often

truth-shaped.

They're only containers

you must turn inside out

and shake till the truth

tumbles out,

wide eyed and confused,

blinking in a light it

never thought it would see."

-Nikita Gill

The last token is set by the time the herald calls the three remaining archers. Lady Tinely along with her retinue has returned. It is odd Lord Pruitt has not glanced my way or made some despairing remark on my countenance.

Perhaps he has grown tired of making sport of this 'lowly' merchant and has decided ignoring me is the greater insult.

I pray it was such.

I watch the archers take their mark, unable to tear my eyes away from the one clad in black. The taste of the summer apple is nothing more than a fond memory, a bit of sweetness lingering on my tongue.

"You seem occupied merchant. What has caught your witchy eyes?"

I catch myself before I can go for the dagger strapped to my thigh beneath my skirt. Lady Tinely is behind me, her shade casting a chill over my skin despite the heat of the waning sun.

I swallow hard to quell my shaking hands. I have become distracted with the archer to miss her presence so completely.

I turn and bow my head, mentally slapping myself awake and to stay on guard. This is not the woods where I am watching my fellow comrades compete and practice.

I am in the middle of enemy territory and any one of these pampered nags would gladly see me hang from the gallows if they knew my true purpose for being among them.

"Nothing, my lady." Her eyes narrow and I hastily rephrase my response, "But I admit to a certain anticipation to see who shall win."

She picks up a grape, toying with the fruit but her eyes are no longer trained on me, instead they are watching the remaining bowman.

"As am I." She puts down the grape, uneaten, "bring me the finished token."

I grit my teeth at being summoned like a dog but gather my skirts and make my way to her side.

I wonder if she intends to make me miss the competition by forcing me to dance attendance upon her.

It should not matter. I am here to gather information not to discern the identity of one, lone archer.

It was a pity my heart was not so easily swayed as my head. It stubbornly refused to yield to reason and kept aching with thoughts of the black archer being Sir Kylo.

"Do you have heat sickness?" The king's cousin snaps her finger inches from my face and I come back to myself with a flush and curse myself a thousand times over for once again letting my thoughts wander where they should not.

"No, my lady," I murmured, sinking to my knees, "forgive my impudence. Here is the token you requested."

"Hmm," she picks up the purple and scarlet band, "a pretty piece."

"Archers to the ready! Take your mark!"

The herald calls out and I snap my head around, heart climbing into my chest to see the black archer take his stance, an arrow resting in the notch on his bow.

Pain!

Nails digging into my scalp, agony crawling up my spine as it bends backward so I stare up into the cruel, vivid eyes of Alcesta.

"I gave no permission to turn away."

"For-give...me...highness," I can't catch my breath with my neck bent at this unnatural angle, "I meant...no...insult."

Hot blood trickling down my neck as she digs her nails in deep, eyes glittering like the serpent I believe her to be. "You plead so prettily, I am of half a mind to forgive your lack of manners."

I fear she will snap my spine with her pressure. I would not have believed this delicate royal could be so strong.

I stare up into her eyes, feel the Force whisper in my blood as a red haze descends, anger pulsating deep within. I hear her gasp and I can breathe again, choking as my hair is freed from her grip.

"Lady Tinely? What ails you?"

I glanced up, massaging my throat to see the woman flexing her fingers as she had been stung by a bee.

The last token I wove for her is on the ground, scarlet and purple ribbons crumpled but intact.

Lord Pruitt is watching her and I see a faint trace of a smile, as if enjoying her pain. I shudder and turn my face away.

I do not like these games the nobles play. There is always blood involved and I have seen enough to last me five lifetimes.

"No need for concern, Lord Pruitt. I grow weary of the sun, let us conclude the tourney and be done with it."

I can feel her eyes on me and keep my head down, not daring to breathe. I lost control of the Force and inflicted pain on the woman to make her release me.

Did she realize I am the cause? Does she know what I am?

No, she would not be sitting here complaining of the sun if she knew.

"As you desire, my lady." A scuffle of leather on wood and the shadow of the Lord of Leese falls across my vision.

He lifts his hand. "Archers, on my mark." He steps back, and I can see clearly the three waiting on his signal.

Here I sit, on my knees in the dust and dirt and stare through slats of wood to the black archer. For a moment I swear I see his head incline but a fraction in my direction.

May the Force be with you, fair archer.

"Now!"

Lord Pruitt drops his hand and the archers spin away, the twang of bowstrings as three arrows take sharp flight into the sun, racing to their target.

It feels as if the entire world holds its breath in anticipation of where they will land.

I track the black arrow as far as I can until it arcs in zenith at the height of the sun and I must shield my gaze lest I be blinded.

The crowd is screaming, stamping feet and I scramble to my own to see what has happened.

"Draw!"

The page at the end of the field is holding up, not one, but two arrows.

Groans and shouts of dismay are deafening until Lord Pruitt once more holds up his hand, silencing the crowd with effectiveness.

"Page! To me!"

The page, no more than a boy, runs as fast as he can to where I clutch the railing.

He holds an arrow with black feathers and another of brown and speckled white fletching.

I watch as Lord Pruitt takes an arrow into each hand, inspecting them both.

"Bowman, present yourself if I hold your arrow."

His voice carries and I watch my black archer step forth along with the yeoman from earlier in the week.

They take their arrow and bend a knee to the Lord of Leese.

"A fine showing but there can be a single winner of the tourney. So how shall we break this stalemate?" He snaps his fingers and turns to look at the king's cousin.

I do not trust the smile he wears, for I have seen it on brigands before they attack after asking for parlay.

"Lady Alcesta, what say a wager on the outcome? Pick a favored archer and I shall do the same."

"An interesting idea, my lord. What is the wager?"

There are undercurrents between them, a dark energy swirling in their exchange.

"My lady," a slight bow from Lord Pruitt, "I believe you know the terms. What say you?"

Damnation, this is no 'simple' wager and he will not divulge the contents to the assembly.

These two must have exchanged words when they took their afternoon fast when I was left behind.

She must not have given him a desired answer and now he is forcing her hand. She might refuse but it would lessen her standing among the people of Leese.

I wish, at this moment, Beaumont were here. He understands more of the intricacies of court politics at play and able to hazard a guess as to what kind of wager a minor lord would make with a blood royal.

A shiver as small hairs rise on the back of my neck and I sense a keen gaze. I turn away from the nobles to stare at the bent heads of the archers.

Except the hooded archer is no longer submissive before the assembly. His attention is fixed on where I stand, his lips moving silently as if trying to speak to me.

I grip the banister, leaning forward to understand why he would risk Lord Pruitt wrath in such a manner. I strain, wishing I learned the art of reading lips as Finn has done.

"Merchant!"

A hard grasp to my arm and I miss my chance to learn what the archer was trying to tell me. I look up and it is Lord Pruitt who has hold of me.

His raptor eyes are filled with malice and icy fear grips my spine. What have I done now to earn his ire?

"My lord? Why do you-ouch!"

He shoves me to my knees before the seated Alcesta, who is once more playing with a handful of grapes, a sinister smile on her painted lips.

Splinters from the wood dig into my knees, my arm aching from his brutal grip. I wish I could rub the muscle but I sense if I so much as move Lord Pruitt will call for my beheading.

"I have a dilemma, merchant, and one I expect you to resolve."

Alcesta drops a grape into her mouth, licking juices from her fingers. I blink and risk a glance back up at Lord Pruitt.

His hand is resting on the pommel of his sword but his gaze is on the king's cousin.

"My...lady?" I am not feigning bewilderment, "how could I be of use to you? I am but a simple merchant-"

"Do you not recall the conversation we had earlier this morn? I asked you a question regarding the archers."

She bites down on another grape, enjoying my discomfort. Her words spark the memory and I recall the conversation. I had not given her a straight answer but pointed out the black archer and common yeoman who were worth considering.

I had not thought of it since.

"I...remember."

"Excellent. Now you understand my vexation. Lord Pruitt desires a wager and I am in a mood to grant it. However," she taps a nail on her seat, " I cannot seem to make a decision on whom to favor to win."

A lupine smile, barring white teeth stained red with the juice of the grapes.

"So you will choose."

My mind goes blank. Of all the outcomes, scenarios I envisioned this was not one I anticipated.

"My...lady?"

"Since you are so fascinated with the archers present you could not hear my calls, pick my champion."

A titter of nervous laughter from the nobles present and I know I did not just imagine the implied threat beneath her honeyed words.

I let myself get distracted by my mysterious archer, enough so that it has angered this royal cousin.

Damn. Damn. Damn!

I am a rabbit caught in a trap with a noose around my neck. One false move and the trap will set and snap my neck.