Yahoo! New chapter up! I'm so glad it's spring break and that we get TWO WEEKS OFF! w00t! P-A-R-T! Y? Cause I gotta! Haha. So, anyway, I'm glad so many people are enjoying this story.

rainkisser: I'm not telling! (at least not here. In the story I will) nyah! But you'll find out soon enough! As a side note, everytime I see 'g2g' I always think of Strong Bad and his 'gee-too-gee' voice.

Tiger Lily21: I hate that! And then you try and re-type it but forget half of it, so it just ends up sounding kind of dumb? Ugh. But I love any review from you. Fiona is always doing something. She's not really a sit around type of girl.

fell4adeadguy: Uh, yeah. Everyone loves Bandits. Especially the sneaky kind. SNEAKY!

pandemonium: Yeah! You're story is really cool! You should update it. perhaps the bandits have a secret agenda. Perhaps they are working for someone. Perhaps they aren't even involved. Who knows? (Well, I do, but I'm not telling!)

Dreamer at Heart: Yup. They are alphabetical. Their parents were only really expecting to get to C, maybe D. They had the hardest time with F and I. This is going to sound so wimpy compared to your cross-country runnage, but I had to run5 laps of the field in rugby and I jogged the whole way, never walked! Boo-yah! My legs hurt the next day, though.

UruvielTinuviel: Hey, I know how it goes. That's why this one is only updating once a week. Far to busy to pump out a good quality story in my old update schedual. I hope you're having fun in all of that stuff, though.

Linnath: I don't really know what you're talking about, but if you do manage to guess, let's try and keep it a secret until it comes out okay? ;c)

Nosilla: Thanks!

secludeddark: Thank you for the review!

In the honour of Mia, ICE CREAM CAKE FOR YOU ALL! Or, for the lactose intolerant, CAKE MADE WITH LOW DENSITY SOY MILK FOR ALL!

See you next Saturday/ Sunday (because I seem to have a habit of updating late at night, so most of you don't see it until Sunday)!

Lulai

Chapter Seven: A Visit

Fiona lifted the white shirt from her mending basket in surprise. Her lips curved into a smile. Jarrod's valet must have put it in her pile of clothes. She already knew Jarrod's personal views on her mending. She took a small spool of white thread and began to mend his shirt with teeny stitches.

She began to hum softly to herself, one of the songs Genevieve and Harmony had sung the night before. Last night sure had been exciting. She certainly hadn't expected the king himself to chase after the bandits. Although, now that she knew Jarrod, she shouldn't have doubted it.

A knock on the door caused her to raise her head.

"Yes?" she inquired. "Come on in." She wondered who would ask permission to enter. It was the solarium, after all, not a bedroom. Then she brightened. Maybe it was her muffins.

Jarrod stepped inside and a streak of light yellow flew past his feet. "I was hoping that before I start the day's investigation, you would share breakfast with me again. I would love some company."

Fiona smiled at him, picking up her cat and stroking her head. Her sisters really didn't like getting up early. "Of course. I even took the liberty to ask the cook to make blueberry muffins this morning. They should be coming any minute now."

"Excellent," Jarrod responded, situating himself in a chair across from her. "Blueberry muffins are my favourite."

Fiona tried to hide a smile and let Mittens jump down from her arms to curl up in a patch of sun. "So I have heard, your majesty," she said, picking her sewing back up.

Impulsively, Jarrod reached forward to lay his hands on hers. Fiona worried about pricking him with her needle, deliberately ignoring the tingle that flowed through her hands from the touch of his warm ones.

"Lady Fiona," he began, "I would like to think that we have become something of friends. Would you mind if I asked you to call me by a less formal title?"

"Of course not, my lord," Fiona said, her heart hurting just a little from the thought that he was only a friend.

You are getting fanciful, she berated herself silently.

He gave her hand a pat and gave her his broken smile. "It's a start in the right direction, I suppose."

"I don't feel right calling you by your given name unless we're more than friends," Fiona said, honestly. Jarrod looked at her with a slightly wide eye expression. She replayed the sentence in her head and began to blush in horror. Oh, curse her open mouth! She might as well just jump out the window right then and there.

"I mean… until we're better friends," Fiona stammered, trying to control the damage. "Not, you know…" she trailed off, realizing she had stuck her foot in her mouth yet again.

"Intimate?" Jarrod suggested dryly. He really shouldn't be embarrassing her, but it was interesting to find out just how red her face could turn.

"Yes, your majesty, I mean, uh… no, uh…"

Jarrod lifted a hand. "I assure you that the thought never crossed my mind." It was the truth, or at least some semblance to it. The thought really hadn't crossed his mind so much as it had come blazing in with trumpets and lodged there permanently.

But that was completely normal, right? Jarrod frowned. She was the first woman to pique his interest since that fateful day three years ago. It was only natural that he was a little obsessed.

"Oh good," Fiona breathed in relief, then, when he frowned, was afraid that she might have insulted him. "It's not that I wouldn't want to be… uh… intimate with you, being as handsome as you are, but I want to be married before that… uh… happens… and I'm not getting married any time soon. But, I don't want to give you the idea that I would commit adultery because I would be faithful to my husband, especially if I love him…" Fortunately, a knock on the door saved her from herself.

Jarrod could have swore that she said, "Thank God," before flying out of her seat to get the door. Her face was the deepest shade of red that he had ever seen.

"Muffin?" she offered, her face imploring him to change the subject. He relented.

"Please," he said, taking one. He raised his eyebrow at the four left on the plate. "It was so kind of you to have rung for extra in case I came."

"Right," Fiona mumbled around her muffin, her cheeks still stained pink. "So, you said something about an investigation?"

"I'm trying to find out where the bandits are hiding out," Jarrod replied after a sip of chocolate to clear the muffin out of his throat. "They ran into the forest yesterday, and we found that fire that afternoon. I think they are hiding out somewhere out there. I just wish I had gotten close enough to see their faces."

"It seems to me that you got close enough, my lord," she said, sticking her fingers through the half of the hole in his shirt that she hadn't yet mended before eating the bottom of her muffin in one bite.

"What the – Is that my shirt?" Jarrod demanded.

"Of course," she said, picking up her needle and resuming her stitching. She looked longingly at the muffins (of which there were only two left) but visible restrained herself and began mending his shirt.

"What are you doing with my shirt?" he asked.

She gave him a sardonic look. "I believe I'm mending it, my lord," she said.

"Well, of course you are," Jarrod snapped. "I mean, why are you mending it?"

"Because it has a hole in it, my lord," Fiona said, her voice belying her own temper.

"Buy why are you mending it?" he asked, frustrated. Jarrod wasn't about to stand for her being treated like a servant in her own house.

"Because I can, your majesty," she snapped back. "Why? Is my mending not superior enough for you?"

Jarrod could tell she was angry by her reversion back to his old title. "It's not that," he attempted to explain, but Fiona had already put his shirt back in the basket and was standing up.

"Where are you going?" he asked, standing up beside her.

"I have things to do, your majesty," she said frostily. "If you'll excuse me."

He sighed and decided to be truthful. "It's just frustrates me to see you doing servants' work."

That caught her attention. She looked at him strangely. "But I enjoy doing it," she replied. "Don't you enjoy anything?"

Being with you. The words came unbidden to his mind and he had to bite his lips to keep them in.

"Some things," he answered instead.

"Besides," she continued with a sad smile, "what else am I supposed to do?"

The words affected him deeply. She looked so… lonely. He felt foolish for trying to take away her sewing from her.

He held out his hand. "I'm sorry for my words earlier," he apologized. "I'd be honoured if you would mend my shirt."

She laid her hand in his briefly. "I'm sorry as well. Friends?"

He lifted her knuckles to his lips. "Friends." Another frown crossed his lips and he ran his fingertips over the inside of her fingers. There were some strange calluses there.

"I burned myself when I was younger," Fiona explained, but her voice sounded a little strained.

"How?" he asked.

"I grabbed the handle to a pot of stew that was too close to the fire," she said ruefully. "I had to have it wrapped for weeks."

"Ah," he murmured. Her hand was very warm, unusual in all the hands he had kissed in his lifetime.

She cleared her throat and dropped her hand. "I was going to visit the villagers this afternoon."

"Any particular reason?" Jarrod asked.

Fiona shrugged. "I enjoy looking in on them and see what they are doing."

"May I accompany you?" he asked. This might be the perfect opportunity to see what he could find out about these bandits.

"You don't have to, my lord," she said. "I've done this plenty of times on my own."

"Nevertheless," he said, placing a hand on her shoulder, "I'd love it if you would show me around this town. I haven't seen much except for this castle."

"I have to gather some things before I leave," she said.

"Then I shall meet you back here in a few minutes?" he suggested. Fiona nodded. "Excellent. I look forward to our outing, my lady."

Fiona hurried to her rooms, Mittens right on her heels. Was the king actually trying to court her?

"Nonsense," she told Mittens sternly, as the cat circled her bed, looking for a comfortable place to lie down. "He said this morning that he's investigating the bandits. He's merely trying to look at our villagers."

She wasn't sure whether the last remark made her feel better or worse. She gathered her things and hurried back to the king. She found him inspecting a suit of armour that she had knocked down more than once.

He straightened at her approach and held out his arm, which she took. "Shall we?" he said. She gripped her basket tighter and nodded.

"What is in there, my lady?" Jarrod inquired curiously.

"A few things," she answered vaguely.

"Secrets, Lady Fiona?" Jarrod teased.

"Of course not," she said indignantly. "Just some things that I bring the villagers when I meet them."

They only paused momentarily by a guard at the front door.

"Yer majesty," the guard said with a slight bow, "I'm sorry, but I canna let ye leave here without an escort."

"Alright," Jarrod said with an aggravated sigh. "Linden, right?"

"Aye, yer majesty," the guard affirmed, standing a little straighter with pride.

"Excellent. I know we will be safe with your keen eye on the job," Jarrod said.

They walked down the dirt road, the Jarrod and Fiona in front, and Linden right behind them.

"So, why do you visit these villagers?" Jarrod asked warily. He did not want to insult her again, especially if she was to show him around.

Fiona sniffed. "Uncle Edward would rather cut off his own hand than associate with commoners, or do any sort of work that an earl should do, and Annabelle is far too busy running the rest of the castle. But I feel like the people need to meet with at least one of family, and there are enough of us, so I took it upon myself to make sure the villagers are properly taken care of."

Jarrod didn't think that his respect for Fiona could grow any more, but with this last declaration, it did. She was just so… good. No flowery words could describe her better.

"My lord?" she asked, looking at him curiously. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

Jarrod didn't realize that he was looking at her until she said as such. "Like what?" he asked, shuttering his gaze.

Fiona inspected him closely, her eyes squinting as they searched his face. "I don't know. I just saw it for a second."

"Well," Jarrod said, hiding himself behind a half-smile, "I'm sorry if I was looking at you strangely."

Fiona opened her mouth to reply when an excited cry interrupted her.

"Fiona!" A little girl with two dirty blonde pigtails hurtled towards her at the speed of light.

"Allie," Fiona responded, laughing as the dirty six-year-old clasped her around her knees.

"Come an' see what I found!" the girl said, grabbing the hand that Fiona pulled out of Jarrod's arm. Allie pulled Fiona along until they were right in front of a larger cottage.

The girl dropped to her knees in front of a ring of rocks. Fiona crouched down beside her as Jarrod walked up behind them.

"That's a very impressive beetle you have there," Fiona said.

"Aye!" Allie squealed happily. "I found 'im in Mama's garden an' picked 'im up an' put 'im here!"

"Did you give him a name?" Fiona asked with a look of mock-severity. "I think he needs a name."

Allie's little face scrunched up in thought. "I dunno," she said piteously. "What can I name 'im?"

"Are you so sure that it's a 'he'?" Jarrod interjected.

Allie swung her head around to him and gave him what was probably the most condescending look he had ever received. "O' course 'e's a 'e," she explained. "There are no girl beetles! Girl beetles are budderfies!"

"Butterflies?" Jarrod said with a smile in his voice.

"Aye! Budderfies!"

Fiona looked very much like she wanted to burst out laughing at him. "What about Bentley?"

"Bentley the Beetle?" Jarrod asked with a raised eyebrow, but Allie clapped her hands in delight.

"Bentley tha Beetle! Bentley tha Beetle!" she sang out loud.

"Allie! What's that infernal singin'?"

"None o' yer beeswax, Jamie," Allie said, sticking her tongue out at the lanky figure in the doorway. "Donna ye listen ta him Bentley," she told the beetle. "'e's only nine."

"Ten!" protested the youth. "Fiona! How are ye doin' today?"

"I'm doing fine, Jamie," Fiona said, rising to her feet. "Infernal?"

"It's me word o' tha day," Jamie said with pride.

"It's a very good word," Fiona said, hiding a smile. "I brought you something." She reached into her basket and drew out a large blue book.

"Another one!" Jamie exclaimed, clutching the book to his chest.

"Whatta ye say, Jamie?" called a voice from inside the cottage.

"Thank ye, Fiona," Jamie called out, and rushing back inside.

A round woman started to come out the door and was nearly bowled over by the Jamie's eager figure. She recovered and leaned against the doorframe. "I thank ye, too, milady," she said. She was a little dusty from baking, but was still very pretty underneath all the flour.

"No problem at all, Alexis," Fiona replied, she pulled out a bottle of ale from her basket. "This is a gift for you and your husband," she said.

"Ye're so good ta us," Alexis said with a smile. "Would ye like some biscuits?" Before Fiona could say yes or no, she had disappeared back inside. She came back out with a sack of warm biscuits.

"There's enough in here for ye," she teased, "with a couple left fer yer man."

"He's not my man," Fiona said with a blush. "This is King Jarrod Fer Drewery."

"Yer Majesty," the woman said with a curtsy.

"Milady," the king said, kissing her slightly dirty hand.

Alexis giggled. "Yer too kind, yer majesty."

"We must be going," Fiona said, squeezing her hand. "We have many more people to see."

Alexis smiled. "O' course. Ye come back an' I'll make ye some o' my cookies."

"It's a deal," Fiona said.

She waved to the family and started down off the road to the next house.

Jarrod walked beside her, only half-listening to her idle chatter. He was beginning to wonder if this outing with Fiona was a bad idea. He was quite certain that he was starting to lose his heart.

And he knew that that was the one thing he didn't want to do.