The next morning I walked into Father's study, a little early for my

morning lesson. Darien was sitting at the large mahogany desk, and he

started when I entered the room. His handsomely tanned face turned a

little pale, and he shuffled the papers on the desk haphazardly as he

rose to greet me.

" 'Morning, Darien," I said shyly as I curtsied. The pallor of his

face had confused me, for why would he look so...guilty? But then I

realized what must have returned to the fore of his mind upon my

appearance.

"Good Morning, Serena," he returned smoothly with a smile, bowing

deeply.

"Darien... about last night..." I began, determining to clear the air,

for the previous evening's events were still more than a little

startling to us both, I knew.

"Yes, I've been meaning to discuss that with you," he began in a

slightly muted tone, after he cleared his throat, "Serena, it was

extremely inappropriate for me to...to sneak into your room as I did,

and even to kiss you in public, and in the king's palace, no less. It

was unseemly behavior on my part, as I am supposed to be educating you

in the matters of moral clarity and decorum, as well as everything else,

and that was very hypocritical of me, after all my lectures to you

about conducting yourself like a lady. I can assure you that I shall

not allow such misconduct ever again."

I suddenly felt very empty. Never again? Had it meant nothing to him,

save an excellent example of "unseemly behavior," then? I felt

something prick my eyes, and I shut them quickly, as I slowly nodded to

show that I understood, even if I didn't agree with a single word.

Suddenly, a hand lifted my chin, and a pair of the most exquisite blue

eyes met my own. They were very close to my face, and the light of

comprehension filled them.

"I can also assure you that I'm damned if I didn't enjoy every moment

of it and I've just gotten you to stop swearing, so there is yet

another bad example I'm setting..." he whispered, a mischievous grin

lighting his features, as he impishly tweaked my hair.

I sighed, and all despair left me as quickly as it had come. Darling

rogue, how could I have doubted him? I thought, and I flashed him a

joyous smile, mocking a curtsy.

Then he grew serious once more, and stepped back, "Serena, never, ever,

believe that I don't cherish every single moment I spend with you, but

your parents have entrusted you to my care and guidance."

He put a gentle hand on my shoulder, and continued, "I cannot go back

on the promise I made to your father the day I came here, that I would

teach you and guide you. This is about honor, and keeping one's word,

and I cannot dishonor you or myself by letting us act with abandon.

Please never doubt how much I lo...care for you, but it is a matter of

principle for me to not act on that concern."

"Yes, Darien, I understand," I replied, smiling gently.

So the next two months were perfectly wonderful. Granted, it was a

little disconcerting that physically, Darien seemed to avoid me like

the plague, and just cheekily gave my hair a playful tug whenever I

pouted at him for being such an "fussy old fogey" about the whole matter.

And yet, secretly, I admired him so much for it. His eyes were

always gentle and loving when he gazed at me, but he held true to his

promise of honor and never once betrayed my parents' trust by so much

as touching my hand with his own. He continued to hammer Latin, French,

mathematics, civics, music, etiquette and everything else into my head,

but unlike before, I listened, fascinated by how much he knew about

anything under the stars. I had never noticed before, having been too

busy trying to figure out what new prank I could play to make his life

a living nightmare.

That is not to say, however, that we didn't still argue- heavens no!

For us to cease fire would be like for Mother to announce that she

wanted to become a bandit. We quarreled as much as always, about

everything- the weather, how overbearing he was, how easily I got

distracted, how arrogantly he strutted about as he recited a passage

from Virgil, how hopelessly clumsy I was (this after yet another fall

from the staircase, though he fortunately caught me before I could

break my neck).

But despite it all, things were different, and all his jokes at my

expense were tempered by the twinkle in his eyes and the spirit that

made it seem as though he was mocking himself as much as me. For my

part, I miraculously became more graceful and all (well, most) of the

"accidental" ink spills in his direction stopped, as did the attempts

to make Tempest throw him from the saddle by means of a well-aimed

pebble.

The only thing that marred the sweet perfection of those days was the

three words my heart kept waiting to hear... and yet, somehow, they

never graced those dear lips I had learned to love.

* * * * *

Where is that frustrating man? I thought yet again, this time with

much more irritation than good-natured annoyance. I'm beginning to

salivate over that turkey, and Mother insists we can't start until he

decides to honor us with his exalted presence!

I contented myself with annoying Sammy for a few more minutes as

Father discussed something with Mother, but that endeavor quickly

became boring, and finally I rose, throwing my napkin on the table.

Mother looked startled, as was to be expected.

Argh, taking his own sweet time, is he? Well, I'm going to let him

know exactly what I think of his insensitivity, I thought angrily as

I stomped into the hall, leaving my scandalized parents staring after

me.

I stood at the foot of the staircase and cleared my throat to ensure

that my voice would reach that fool wherever he might be, including

Japan.

"Darien Shields, you come down here this instant, or I will not be held

responsible for what I do to you!!" I hollered as loudly as was humanly

possible.

Swish, thud! Oh, lovely, Mother had decided to swoon.

"Serenity Tsukino, what is the MATTER with you? Screaming at the top

of your lungs, and inside the house, no less?! I'm ashamed... so this

is what years of seminary and Darien's tutelage have taught you!" I

could just see my father's face turning delightfully purple in the next

room as he rushed to attend to my mother.

"Sorry, Father," I said, trying to fill my voice with as much artificial

repentance as possible. Maybe a loud whisper was a better option.

"Darien, I refuse to take anymore of this; besides, trying to whisper

this loudly hurts my throat! Get down here this minute!"

No answer. I could just hear my vocal chords protesting against the

injustice of it all.

"Fine, when I wake up MUTE in the morning, I'll have you to thank for

it!" I yelled, deciding that Father's rages weren't enough to keep me

from letting that fool know what I thought of him, loud and clear.



Silence.

(Save for the sound of my father clumsily trying to find the smelling

salts and revive my unconscious mother as Sammy looked on in a daze-

one would think he'd be used to scenes like this by now.)

That was the last straw- the least Darien could do was honor me with

some sort of indication that he had heard me! He was bloody well going

to find out I was less than pleased; I plodded up the steps, and not

even that treacherous broken stair (which I had given up hope of ever

seeing repaired) could detain me from my mission.

My skirts swished emphatically as I whirled to the right and stomped

down the hall with such momentum that when I reached the perpetrator's

room, I had to hold onto the door frame to keep from sliding across

the far-too smooth floor.

"Darien!" I shouted loudly again, standing in a rather imposing stance

with hands on my hips in his doorway. Now there was absolutely NO

excuse for a lack of response, yet my infuriated call still received

no reply. He was probably bathing, for the room was empty, and the

door on the opposite side was closed; he was probably just refusing

to respond simply because he knew it would aggravate me. However,

verification of this theory (by way of opening said bathroom door)

was probably not quite so advisable, I resolved, while fighting off

the disappointment that my ladylike scruples had once again won the

battle against wicked impulses.

I stood there for a few moments, trying to settle on a new course of

action to make that fool learn just WHO he was standing up for dinner,

when something caught my eye. On the floor a few feet away from me

was a beautiful leather-bound book, a shiny brass clasp holding it

closed.

Instantly, my curiosity was piqued, and I quietly walked over and

kneeled on the ground before it, mindful of the fact that I was

technically not even supposed to be in Darien's room- the rules of

decorum did not allow a young lady to enter a young man's room

unaccompanied. But then again, I hadn't even considered technicalities

and proprieties two months ago, when I brazenly kissed him on top of

the king's fountain and thus rushed headlong into a relationship that

was...err...well, more than my parents intended, I reasoned, so why

fuss over decorum this late in the game? Besides, that was his job,

not mine.

Having reassured myself with this justification, I stared at the book,

which appeared to be a journal of some sort, judging by its similarity

to the diaries I'd seen in school. Again, I was at a crossroads. But

this was entirely different- no proprieties holding me back here, but

the fact that Darien trusted me completely, and the fact that opening

his journal without his knowledge and consent was effectively destroying

that slowly cultivated and very precious trust.

Two spirits settled themselves comfortably on either of my shoulders;

on my right was a tiny Serenity garbed in a beautiful virginal white

gown and with a pair of tiny wings and a golden halo. On my left

shoulder was a Serena in a shockingly low-cut ruby red gown that might

have been donned by the town badwoman, but never a lady of good breeding.

She looked curiously like Lucifer's sister, if he had one, and there

was a gleam of unholy mischief in her dancing blue eyes, where the other

Serenity's eyes were purely innocent and round.

The white Serenity whispered reproachfully that I ought to do right by

the man I claimed to love so dearly, put the fallen book on the desk,

and skip out of the room. The scarlet-gown-bedecked Serena whispered

in my other ear that I ought to read it, and serve Darien right for

carelessly leaving it lying around, when he so often preached about the

importance of organization and self-possession.

Both arguments had their merit, but somewhere in me, I felt that I

simply HAD to know what was in that journal, and it was this inner

instinct, wrong and immoral as it might be, that finally made me flick

off the angelic Serenity as my father flicked dust from his shoulder.

My insatiably curious and naughty side wanted to know what he'd

written about, and if I were really honest with myself, specifically

what he had written about ME- what fun to discover exactly how much he

cared.

He had certainly never once favored me with that knowledge, I thought

sadly, but maybe he was afraid to, perhaps he written the beautiful,

dear words here. And it was this thought that finally convinced me

to throw caution and principle to the wind. How could I, misguided

fool that I was, have known how many other things I would lose to that

wind of folly?

With a furtive glance around, I picked it up slowly, silently promising

myself that I would just peek inside for a moment and then replace it.

I undid the clasp on the front of the book, trying to look as casual

and innocent about it as possible, and flipped the cover and several

pages back.

*****

October 23

Extensive search of files in left desk drawer- all documents appear to

be in order, contents lack suspicious material, province tax accounts

indicate accuracy.

*****

I was completely confused. What documents were in order? Which left

desk drawer? Surely he couldn't mean...no, of course not, I thought,

shaking my head as though to rid myself of such idiotic notions. Why

would Darien be searching desk drawers? And whose desk drawers? What

'suspicious material' was he seeking out? The only desk I could think

of was the one in Father's office...surely Darien wouldn't be rifling

through it- why would he?

I flipped more pages, and caught sight of mysterious phrases like

"tavern meeting" and "cover-up duties" and "clandestine nature of

mission jeopardized" and "no clear indications of foul play." What did

it all mean? I sat there, completely puzzled, trying to sort through

what I knew.

Suddenly, my blood turned to ice water, and the room spun frighteningly

about me. As I frenziedly turned pages and read bits here and there,

my brain screamed out that I had been vilely deceived- not only me, but

my parents, my family, all of us! Darien was a...was a... spy!

His job as my tutor was a façade; I was a 'cover-up duty!' When I had

walked into the office that morning, and he had looked so guilty for

that one moment, the 'clandestine nature' of his mission had been

'jeopardized.' The few times he had mysteriously disappeared during

dinners- he had been at the Crossroads 'tavern meeting'...meeting

whoever it was he was spying with or for! Oh gods, it was all a lie!

A nightmarish, glaring...

"What the bloody hell do you think you're doing?"

I gasped from sheer shock and sprang to my feet. Turning around, my

heart stopped as I slowly looked up into the coldly furious eyes of

the man who had been coolly lying to me and everyone else for nearly

the past year.

"You sneaky minx! Give me that, you little fool! Thought you'd snoop

around in my things, did you?" he asked in a voice that shook with rage

for all its quietness, as he snatched the open journal from my hand.

As speechless as I had been to see him, all the more dangerous and large

in his fury, looming above me, that epithet gave me back use of my tongue.

"Me?! You DARE come back here and call me a sneaky minx? Who in hell

has been lying to whom for the last year? Who has been professing

concern for my welfare, my education, my everything? Who took me in his

arms on top of a damn fountain in the king's palace and kissed me

senseless? Who betrayed my trust, stole everything that truly mattered

to me, and broke it to bits?" By now I was crying as I spoke in hushed,

furious whispers, tears of rage and pain streaming freely down my face.

The book fell from his hands, and slipped to the ground, unheeded by

either of us, and he unconsciously gripped my shoulders as his eyes

snapped with quivering anger.

"Who," I gasped for breath, choking on the endless sobs that filled my

throat, "Who crept into my room in the dead of the night, and swore

that I was the most important thing in his life?" I grabbed the

lapels of his shirt and tugged roughly, demanding, "And who, the very

next day, preached to me about the folly of our behavior, about he

had to honor my parents' trust in him? Trust?! TRUST?! You wouldn't

know trust if you met it in the street!"

"I don't know what trust is? You're one to talk, madam, considering

that if you valued it so much, you wouldn't even be here screaming at

me! You thought it might be fun to explore my belongings, did you not,

my little hypocrite, when you KNEW you had no right to? How in God's

name is that honesty?" His eyes had darkened to near-black and they

glittered with barely-suppressed violence.

I staggered back, half-afraid and half-incensed, but the realization

that he was right about my hypocrisy was quickly shoved away by my

intense sorrow that he hadn't meant one word, one gesture in all the

time he had been here, in all the time I had been slowly falling in

love with him.

Strange, how even though we both spoke in hushed tones, mindful of

ears around the house, the words themselves were full of enough force

to destroy everything.

Trembling from head to foot, I choked out, "You low-down, cowardly,

two-faced... I can't even think of anything bad enough to call you!"

Frustrated at the inadequacy of my words, I gave him a resounding slap

across the face, and found mixed comfort and horror at the red print

of my palm on his face, pale even under his tan.

"I advise you NOT to try that again, or I shall be forced to end my

policy of never laying a hand on a woman," he growled in a low voice,

black eyes filling with something I couldn't understand, "Spoiled

little brat, how in hell could you understand what is at stake? Stars

above, Merylia's entire future..."

His voice grew even quieter, even more dangerous, "Tax fraud isn't a

petty little tidbit to giggle over with your dizzy friends- it means

greed, and the corruption that greed spells can destroy empires! Have

you learnt nothing from me at all about the fall of the great dynasties?

Of course, how could you? Your head's too full of your own pleasures,

your own wants, to ever think of anyone else, let alone something as

lofty as the destiny of this kingdom!"

"There's more than one type of corruption- what about betrayal?" I

countered, stung by the harshness of his words, "Betrayal of a person

who loves you, LOVES you- isn't that treason as much as cheating on

taxes? Or does that not figure into your worldly, high-handed moral

philosophy?"

"Nice try, but you can't accuse me of any breach of trust you aren't

guilty of yourself, my dear," he remarked cuttingly. "And, by the way,

there's no such thing as love, so you'd best be ridding yourself of

that romantic misconception- the sooner, the better," he finished,

stabbing my heart one last time, and twisting his gold-hilted dagger

painfully for effect.

"You...you monster..," I whispered, shaking my head slowly, unwilling

to believe that he could profane that which I held most dear- my

feelings for him. I bit my lip to keep from crying out, and as the

salty sweet taste of blood filled my mouth, I closed my eyes,

unwilling to spare another glance at the...the creature standing before

me.

"Get out."

He simply bent over and picked up his cursed journal. I opened my eyes,

to meet his, filled with some emotion, some expression I couldn't fathom.

"I said, get OUT. And don't ever come back," my voice wavered, but

the words were deadly.

He looked at me in such a way as he never had before- and with that gaze,

he stole everything I had left of the old Serena, and left in her place

a stranger. Then, without another word, he stormed out.

As the thudding of his tall leather boots slowly faded into the

distance, I felt the glow that had enveloped me in its golden warmth

for two beautiful months leave the same way, fading into the distance,

lost with Darien, forever.

My back sank against the wall, and slowly, painfully, I slid to the

ground. My whole frame shivered desperately, for suddenly, it was

cold. So cold. Ugly, harsh sobs left my throat, in a voice I couldn't

even recognize. It was as though someone else was snatching the

lifeblood from yet someone else's screaming body, and I was simply

sitting there, my knees crushed to my chest, watching. And horrifyingly,

that someone and their victim, at first only shadows, gradually

turned into a terribly handsome man with intense blue eyes, his hands

tearing cries of agony from a girl with miles of golden hair, her

body crumpled on the floor.

It was much later when padded, soft footsteps suddenly reached my

tired ears, and I pulled my hands from a tear-streaked, deathly pale

face, only to look into the kind features of Luna, her eyes filled

with quiet sympathy and shared pain. She kneeled before me, and after

placing a small, gentle kiss on my forehead, silently left as quickly

as she had entered. Once again, I was alone with the merciless nymph

of sorrow, sinister because of her intangibility, she who I could only

face by myself.

As I had sat there and wept, spilling out whatever was left of my heart,

everything had started to fall into place, a jigsaw puzzle of lies and

deception. The sudden disappearances, the pallor of his face that

morning when I caught him unawares, the reluctance to speak of his past-

it all made such hideously perfect sense, and the truth had set me free.

Free of love, free of happiness, free of everything that truly mattered.

"There's no such thing as love..."

I don't remember how I managed to pick myself up and leave that room-

that room I felt I could never enter again, the hallowed room that

saw the most wrenching, destructive moments of my life.

And yet somehow, I was in my own bed later that night, in a restless

sleep. My eyelashes still gleamed with the cruel shine that tears

always seem to leave behind.

*I walk, dragging him with me...it is pouring, and my sight is

completely blurred for the drops that fill my eyes...we have to get

there, have to find them, for with them is safety, warmth, laughter

and light. But how impossible, how far away they are! Every step is

the step of a tiny ant, trying to cross an endless chasm of rain, and

cold that bites me without mercy. Cruel, strident laughter fills the

air but I have to keep moving, have to keep hold of his hand, for

without me, he would be lost. And losing him would mean losing myself,

too. And that can't happen- they are waiting, who knows where, but

they are waiting, and they have to be found. The laughter grows louder,

more threatening as I tiredly, brokenly drag him behind me, barely

having the energy to step around the endless trees, so tall, so dark,

like stone walls. And then, there is a dull, thudding sound...I

desperately try to forget it, keep moving, for if I stop, we die. But

it becomes more insistent, more powerful, I scream...*

She sat straight up, drops of hot, frightened sweat coursing down her

face, tears smearing her already deadened eyes. The thudding, for it

was very real, continued, and she stifled a terrified gasp with

difficulty. It was coming from downstairs, sounded like someone were

roughly pounding on the door. Her breath caught in her throat...but

no, never, that was hoping for too much...hadn't she just learned the

price to be paid for hoping?

Fearing her thoughts would betray her further, she clutched her robe

around her, and soundlessly ran down the hall, and carefully avoided

the broken stair as she pattered down the staircase. Clearly everyone

else was too sound asleep to have heard the noise from outside- no

surprise, she thought grimly, since somehow her whole family and host

of servants, with the exception of her and Luna, could sleep through

the most violent thunderstorm- she knew, she'd seen it.

With some trepidation, she turned the gleaming brass lock on the tall

wood door, and opened it just a crack, past memories of a rather similar

situation painfully filling her mind.

Icy cold wind swept into the foyer- the potent, determined wind that

only a snowstorm can bring. But this was lost on Serena, and all

memories and thoughts fled when she saw what lay on the other side of

the door.