A/N: Okey-doke. I'm really tired, so this is gonna be short as possible.

Well, my 'puter (hereby known as Snookums) broke down-the system was OK but Snookums himself wasn't. So the computer man put in a new keyboard and did a little 'puter magic and my 'puter was fixed. However, it took about two weeks. On top of the major writer's and the fact that this chappie is my longest yet-5.5 pages on MS Word-cheer for Neb-it's taken a while. I'd hoped this chappie could be up much sooner...sorry for the wait.

Next chapter: hehehe...fun.

As to review responses...thanks to FelSong, Wake-Robin, Abby (I loved your review! I was really depressed when I got it and it cheered me up majorly!), Sheyana, and ; (Your review made me feel special...it was nice, too. Thanks!) for reviewing. And that's all the resposes you'll get-I'm way too tired.

Hello. You have reached the Disclaimer for nebulia. At the tone, please insert your favorite legal disclaimer and I or one of my alter-egos or many minions will instantaneously approve it. Thank you, and have a nice day. Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep! (Insert disclaimer here)

Sudden Changes

We waited. For weeks. Three weeks after Ermliana sent the Cloak to Marscopa, the Queen sent it back. Ermliana (grudgingly) paid for it.

The cloak set in Ermliana's sitting room, tucked in a corner. No one dared touch it, for what it may be.

And we waited.

It was a week later when, on my way to the library, I heard a commotion. And then I ran into Ermliana. She pushed passed me, and then stopped. "Lessie!"

I grabbed her shoulders and whirled her around. She looked as though she was going to fall over. "What is it?"

I noticed her face was pale as she said, "I knew it wouldn't work."

"What?" I said, not comprehending. Her eyes were bloodshot and suddenly she looked so old, so tired and haggard and ill and so not Ermliana that I wanted to knock her out right there in the hall outside the Throne Room and make her sleep until she was herself again. And then it dawned on me...

It hadn't worked.

"What?" I said again, this time horrified.

Ermliana shook her head, tears beginning to leak out of her eyes, a tiny smile on her face. She was delirious, I decided.

"I knew it wouldn't work...and it did, oh Lessie, it did!"

She pulled me into the Throne Room. The King sat on the Goldenwood throne, his eyes wide. A group of men and women in white cloaks stood around Marscopa, who was hardly visible underneath a shimmering barrier.

One man demanded, "Who did you make the Impervious Cloak for?"

Marscopa said something they couldn't hear, and then the man turned. "Ermliana Argaliar. Fetch the Impervious Cloak for me."

Ermliana nodded and left. "And who are you?" the man asked me.

I stepped forward. "I am Elestra, Duchess of Savona. Marscopa over there killed my mother and bound—" I stopped suddenly, surprised. It didn't hurt to talk.

"Den," a woman next to him said. "She's been bound like the girl over there."

Arthal stood over by the door to the antechamber, held by another woman in a white cloak.

The man named Den scrutinized me and said, "Burn it, Leda, she is." He walked up to me and wrapped an arm around my shoulders. "We need you to stand over there, your grace."

"Why can I talk?" I asked him.

"It's the barrier," he stated, and then added, "How old are you?"

"Fifteen."

"And who and how old is the girl over there? The only thing she's done the entire time we've been here is mutter curses at Lady Marscopa and smile."

I glanced over at Arthal. She appeared to be muttering under her breath as she smiled menacingly. I said slowly, fighting back a laugh, "She's Princess Arthal Merindar, heir to the lands of Merindar. She's seven. Nearly eight," I clarified.

Den smiled at me. "I am Den Shagoli, formerly a citizen of Norsunder. I am the leader of the Council of Mages."

"Formerly?" I asked.

"When you are inducted into the Council, you renounce your citizenship."

I smiled. "Oh, like the Fellowship of the Tower."

He looked pleasantly surprised that I knew of them. "Yes," he said. "Much like them."

He gestured to the rest of the cloaked people. "These are my fellow Council members." He introduced them to me, and then he pointed over the woman near Arthal. "She is a member as well, who specializes in auras, especially those of children. Her name is Linnea Monetta, and I'm going to need you to go over there and introduce yourself to her."

"Why?" I asked, curious.

"When you are under a binding spell, your aura apparently becomes quite bungled. I don't know, since I never trained in sensing auras, but she'll sort you out." He rejoined the circle around Marscopa.

I nodded and walked over to her as Ermliana walked in, holding the cloak in her skirt. The woman next to Den, Leda Nashilo, left the circle.

"Is this the Cloak?" she asked. Ermliana nodded, and Leda reached out to take it.

As her fingers neared Ermliana's skirt, she cried out and pulled back.

Den and another mage rushed forward. "Life!" Leda cried, examining her hand, which had a heavy, thick welt on it, "it's definitely cursed."

The mage who had come over with Den pulled some thick gloves out of his belt and put them on, picking up the cloak. "I need the Dark magic specialists over here!" he called, and three people left the circle. Leda, wrapping her hand, joined them. The mage set the cloak on the floor, and the five mages began to examine the cloak.

I walked over to Linnea, who smiled warmly at me.

"I'm Linnea Monetta," she said. Her voice was quiet and soothing, and all tension in me seemed to slowly relax. "Who are you? And who is this little munchkin?"

I snorted at the word 'munchkin.' "I'm Elestra, Duchess of Savona. This is Princess Arthal Merindar, heir to the Merindar lands."

Arthal looked up at me, only just realizing I was there. She grinned, her blue eyes colder than I'd ever seen them. "Lady Elestra, did you have anything to do with this?"

I shook my head. "'Twas all Ermliana's doing," I responded. "I merely agreed with the idea."

Linnea called over a scribe. "I want you to, in detail, explain everything that has happened to you. You first—" she pointed at me—"and then you, Your Highness, and then your friend Ermliana, and whoever else was involved or knew anything at all."

"Nenthar Debegri," I said. "He was an accomplice—"

Suddenly we heard anything shouts from the hall.

"I'm telling you," a boy yelled loudly, "I didn't do anything! She's my aunt! She's the Queen! That's the only reason I know her!"

"Um, never mind," I said, smiling faintly. "That's him."

Linnea smiled at me and Arthal. "I need to check you over," she said soothingly. "If you'll just sit down for me…" I realized there were two chairs over by the wall. We sat.

Linnea placed a hand on both of our shoulders, and said, "That's it. Breathe normally or as if you were asleep or resting. Just relax…"

Several hours later, when I stood up from the chair, I felt lighter than I had in, well, a long time. Actually, I felt—

Arthal cut into my thoughts a little confusedly. "Is it just me, or do you feel like you're floating, too?"

"Yeah, I think it's…I don't know."

She smirked coolly. "Fancy that. Elestra doesn't know something! Amazing."

I glared at her. Things were back to normal. Well, sort of.

The trial was in a small city near Sartor where the Council's headquarters and prisons were. It stood alone, not part of any country. We all traveled there in the most comfort we could have while traveling; my father, brother, Ermliana, Alaerec, the King, Galdran, Arthal, Alaerec's mother, who was the King's sister and thus spent a lot of time with Marscopa, and many other witnesses.

I had never been to any sort of trial before; I was not, and had no wish to be, involved in the legal system. However, Marscopa's case was supposedly different since there was already evidence pointing to her. The Cloak was indeed cursed, to make me burn every time I put it on but not realize that until other moments. Or something like that. Leda, one of the mages, had tried to explain it to me. I didn't get it.

However, witnesses would testify as to Debegri's involvement and as to the other things Marscopa may have done, such as murdering my mother and binding Arthal and me.

Oh, we were still bound, though. Marscopa was still alive and full of magic; she was just guarded by mages and gagged at all times.

Arthal mumbled things about being not only a witness, but an exhibit as well, but I really didn't care. I just wanted to—

Elestra, you did not just think that.

In truth, I was confused. Alaerec had been staring at me worriedly since the day Marscopa was arrested, and Ermliana's eyes had been laughing for the same amount of time.

Exhaustion didn't suit her, I decided as we sat in the carriage and she slept between Alaerec and me.

We presented a united front, the three of us. Alaerec, who would be King if Galdran and Arthal died or something, Ermliana, who was the one who caught Marscopa in the first place, and me, the victim.

Of course, out of all of us, I had both the least and the most power. When word had gotten out that Marscopa was an evil sorceress, and that Arthal and I were bound, I suddenly became the 'weak one.' I was weak enough to let Marscopa bind me.

But then, I had the most power in the law court—I had seen more than anyone else, and this made me the key witness.

Or so they told me. One thing I knew, though: I was never, ever going to do anything with the law or politics ever again.

Or so I had hoped.

The trial was actually interesting; there was evidence and witnesses that I didn't know existed, and there was enough incriminating stuff to sentence Marscopa for ten lifetime's worth of jail time.

Debegri was another case. The only witnesses who knew he was guilty were Arthal and me, and then there were several witnesses as to his character, but other than that, Marscopa had covered her paths well. Very little was connected to him.

On top of that, I was young, as was Arthal, but she also had a bias. Everyone testified that Marscopa like Debegri better than Arthal, even Marscopa herself. Her testimony on Debegri's involvement was disregarded.

In short, Debegri was found innocent, although he was fined pretty heavily for knowing what Marscopa had planned and doing nothing about it.

I 'visited' him in jail the day he was found innocent. Debegri was going to be kept in jail until he paid his fine. I hoped he'd never pay it.

Either way, I was virtually summoned to the prison to speak with Debegri—alone. Alaerec didn't like it at all, and Ermliana was suspicious, but I assured them I'd be all right—after all, there were going to be bars separating him and me.

Or so I thought. Debegri wasn't in a jail cell anymore; rather, he was in a holding cell—a two-room chamber, carpeted, with decently cushioned furniture, though sparse, and whitewashed walls.

"Oh, good, Elestra," he said cruelly as I stepped into the antechamber of his cell. "You did come. I was afraid you would be cowardly."

"It's your grace," I hissed though my teeth, "not Elestra."

He snorted. "I'll call you what I want to, Elestra."

"What do you want?" I snapped, angry that I was losing my temper.

"I figured I would gloat," Debegri said, eyes full of some sort of venal hunger. "After all you were 'disregarded as a witness due to your young age.'"

"Were you even listening?" I retorted. "That was Arthal. I was fully regarded as a witness."

He waved his hand in a just barely decent attempt at courtly foppishness. Alaerec has that motion down pat, I thought before I could stop myself. Debegri couldn't manage the move. "Whatever. The point is, Elestra, it's just you and me in here, and you thought I would be in a jail cell."

He suddenly reached out and grabbed my wrists, faster than I thought he could move. He swung me around, so he was in between me and the door. "Now, Elestra," he said softly, "You thought I was a bad swordsman, didn't you?"

I said nothing. Fear had paralyzed me.

He released my wrists with one hand, and drew on of the swords at his waist and placed it in my hand, wrapping my fingers around it. Then he drew the other sword, and said, "Shall we duel?"

He let go and pushed me against the wall. I lifted my sword. It was real—not a practice sword.

Debegri attacked suddenly, and I just barely got my sword up in time to parry the blow.

He was nearly as good as Alaerec; perhaps he was a little better than Ermliana. I was no match for him.

I don't know why he faked being a bad swordsman, but it didn't matter at the moment, because I felt like my arms were going to fall off and I was just barely blocking each blow.

He suddenly thrust and I jumped to one side, but not fast enough; the sword grazed my arm, ripping open my chiffon sleeve and cutting into my skin.

I cried out and dropped my sword. The cut wasn't deep, nor was it long, but burn it, it hurt.

Debegri set his sword down as well, grinning menacingly. "Cocky, were you?" he asked mockingly.

I glared at him, losing a bit of my fear. He was still the same venal bastard. "No, actually. But it was nice talking to you. I'd best be going."

I stood, feeling blood drip down my arm. Damn, I thought, this was my favorite dress.

I started to leave when Debegri grabbed my wrists again. "You're not going anywhere," he hissed, and then he kissed me.

It was one of the worst moments of my life. Even now, fifty years later, I can remember exactly how I felt.

And it hurt. He dug his fingernails into the skin of my wrist, and his teeth bit down on my lip so hard they drew blood.

I struggled violently, and, in a poorly aimed attempt at a kick to his shin, accidentally kneed him violently in a place where men should not be kneed.

Even if it was a mistake, it was an effective one.

He pulled away and I turned and ran out of the room, startling the sleeping guard as I rushed down the hall as fast as I could (which was, if I do say so myself, pretty fast.).

I exited the prison compound at top speed, ran into Alaerec who was walking to the prison to check on me, and suddenly I was in my room with the door locked and bolted, and then I was curled under the covers of my bed, sobbing for no reason I could possibly discern.

And I wished so badly that there could just be someone there—someone who would hold me tightly and wipe my tears away.

And, for some reason, when I thought of that one special person, I thought of Alaerec.

OK, a little bit af angst-fluff at the end, there...happy?

Good night, sleep tight, don't let the bedbugs bite, whatever, I'm going to bed.

Signing off,
neb