Forenote: I really wish there were something clever and witty I could say to redeem myself, but I am afraid there is no such phrase that could accomplish that. All I can say is this: I am well-aware that I left the story hanging on an inexcusable height, and though I denounce those authors that abandon their stories and torture their readers, I have come to realize that I am among them. I do not do so intentionally, but things do happen that distract me from the business I have melded with my once only recreational activities. As a writer on it is my sole responsibility to keep my readers entertained and satisfied, and to stay true to my story, and sorrowful as I am that I had failed for this time, I am hoping to meet a new start. I do hope you'd all come to forgive me, and although I know it'd be too easy to once again fail you all, I only wish that it wouldn't be too difficult to trust me as a devoted reader, once again.

Rasielle

Responses: I expect that my Forenote would suffice for this portion, would it not?

o...o...o...o...o

Chapter 10: Another Option

They say time will certainly heal the deepest hurts and guilts, but they never mention that it either takes a lifetime, or disappears while leaving a scar that hurts whenever it is touched. One always finds him or herself learning that on their own, and it is never without sufferance. Although it was not my personal loss, I still hurt for Lieron and Azalea, and I still throbbed with guilt at the very thought.

Eder and Elaine took note of the distance I so blatantly placed between myself and everyone else, and they respected my choice enough to keep away. I no longer smiled, and I kept to my quarters more often, and I soon began to wonder about the true purpose of my stay. What was it, precisely? I did no task to hold me here; I stayed off my punishment, did I not? But whatever the reason, it was up to Clement whether I stayed or went, where and how I spent the rest of my time here. I knew not of the reasons he had in mind, but I evaded him especially, depriving myself of a chance to question him. And either way, he wouldn't tell me his true intention. He would shirk an honest answer by saying something witty and decided, something that would silence anything I would've said next.

In fact, I spent a near-week like this, speaking to no one, having my meals sent up to my quarters, nicking books from the library in great stacks, just so I may entertain myself. No one tried to stop me. My tongue's use decreased while my analysis skills sharpened.

It was quite a surprise when I heard the forceful thuds of a visitor after a meal had been served - I hadn't heard such a noise in days.

I had been reading a book of philosophy, titled, "A Place for All", written by a particularly observant monk recluse, one who had died many years back. The sharp rapping disturbed me, and I almost decided that the sounds were imagined - that is, until Elaine's familiar silver tones slip into my hearing, calling my name angrily. Startled, I hurried to my door - my book in hand - and unlocked it quickly. Locked doors brought me security and guaranteed solitude.

Elaine glided in, sparing me a feverish glance, and she promptly snatched the book from my unwary hands. Indignant, I stared at her, but then noticed a change. While she normally lived with a steady, relaxed air, she was frantic now. Her youth was glossed over with early stress and a hot will, and I read anger in her features. I bit back my sullen remark; she did not need any opposition at the moment, no more than I needed a distraction. It was my theory that Marguerite's constant demanding was driving her to the brink.

"Your incessant brooding is not necessary, Rozenta," she said briskly, her icy eyes boring into mine. "As much as you'd like to deny it, your presence is needed in court - don't you wonder what the other courtiers say as you hide behind your books, in the safety of your chamber?"

Stressed or no, Elaine was treading onto dangerous ground. I drew myself up with an intense gaze, my tongue ready for slaughter and my mind reeling with past excerpts from that shelf of philosophy texts. "Elaine, you know as well as I that what the courtiers think matters not to me. I am not necessary in the nobles' Webs, and nor do I want to be, so if his Highness sent you, tell him that I send you back with contempt. When someone wants to be alone, they should never be denied the privilege - noble or not. The nobles can live without my intrusions, and Marguerite is most likely more than pleased that I am no longer present to distract, and I am despised throughout the court either way. It is time for Clement to mature as I have, for we are no longer the children we were before, and if he misses my spirit, let him know that he is to blame for the dying of my fire."

But Elaine would not have it. Although I could barely have called it possible, her eyes hardened, and she pursed her lips thin. I saw true anger flash on her face, and frustration, and exhaustion. "Rozenta, you know as well as I that looking back on past mistakes won't help anything. Be smart and use that well-educated mind of yours. You're a clever wench." And then, surprisingly enough, her tight face softened, relieving her pretty, classic features. Tension did not present them at their best. "I only beg of you as a friend that you abandon your nonsense this instant. We all miss you, and sympathize with you, but you cannot bury yourself like this."

I stared at her, marveling at how she could possibly understand; but, I reasoned, even if she hadn't been fed the entire true story, she knew enough to get the concept of how I felt. She was a remarkable companion.

Tired and resigned, I lowered my eyes and spoke with a quavering voice. "I'm sorry. I truly, truly am. It is only that... everything is starting to get to me. The novelty is wearing off." I smiled sadly. "I do not belong here."

Elaine shook her head. "No, you don't. But the point, my dear, is that you are here -" she tugged on my arm, leading me towards the door, "and you will be here for a while -" she pulled the door open and led me out, "and you will learn to manage. For this, I apologize with all the sincerity a girl like myself can muster, but the truth remains that this is your situation, and that you have no other choice than to make the very best of it."

The peeved air around her was gone; I suppose I proved sincere enough. That was good. And I had been sincere, more sincere than I had been in a while ever since the start of this folly charade, and I warmed a little inside. She was my friend, and was a very good one, and it would be a shame to lose her friendship; she did not deserve my coldness.

Her eyes were still cold, though. But I thought not of it. They were as such naturally. "But now onto business - as enlightening as our conversation was, Rozenta, I called upon your quarters with a reason. A very stirring reason. I shall say not too much, because you haven't much time to prepare, but I only have a little to say, actually: his Majesty Prince Clement requests your presence in the dining room in a quarter hour, and that if you'd wish to present yourself adequately for their Highnesses, the King and Queen, you would wear gold."

She grinned (or, at least, her mouth did - her eyes did nothing), but I stared at her, my mind reeling. The... King and Queen? And no one could warn me of this earlier? Were they mad? And I didn't even have a reason for staying... their Majesties may think me a mistress of Clement or something of the like, and if I were to dress in gold today, that meant...

They'd be here by evening.

After uttering a hurried thanks to Elaine - who did in fact continue to look very amused - I rushed back into my chamber and dressed quickly and carefully. There were two or more gold gowns in my borrowed wardrobe, but I needed something simple. Too much frippery on my apparel would make me seem too noble, and I wasn't even close to such a thing. I found a goldish-green dress with only two petticoats, and chose it. It was perfect.

o...o...o...o...o

"This way, milady," piped a thin, golden-haired serving girl who was escorting me to the dining hall. She was pretty, I would say, with very aristocratic features, but her expression constantly displayed her distaste for being here, there, and doing whatever she was doing at the present moment. She presented herself as Giselle, but I personally thought the name a tad too noble for a young maid like herself.

I followed the snobby little maid down the path cutting through the royal courtyard, and into the snowy palace. Her feet moved fast and nimbly, as mine honestly couldn't, so I relied on my own wit most of the way down the halls.

We arrived in record short time, and she stood by the door, waiting with an impatient twist to her lips. I smoothed my gold gown, raised my chin defiantly - I would not falter in Clement's presence; I would be strength itself, merely forced into flesh - and nodded imperiously to Giselle. Again, I was playing the part of a noblewoman, and I was getting better with each change to practice.

"You may leave me now, Giselle. I thank you for the guidance."

"It's only my job, milady, and I'm afraid that a part of that instructs me to lead you all the way." She opened the gold-gilded doors, expecting me to pass through with her trailing behind me. "I am instructed to lead you inside the hall as well, and I shall do so. If it bothers ye not, milady." Her curtsey was swift and uncommitted, as was her tone. "Now in we go."

I raised my eyebrows lightly, but stepped in anyway, allowing her to follow behind. The halls were empty, save for maids and servants here and there, readying up the hall for the King and Queen's arrival. Seated lazily at the long, golden table was Clement, who did not realize my arrival until Giselle and I were somewhat near enough.

But when he did, he gawked, abandoning all the diplomacy that accompanied his title as a prince.

"Your Majesty," Giselle said hurriedly, dropping a true curtsey. She came up, blushing furiously. "I have brought the lordess, as you commanded, your Highness." She smiled shyly at him, her annoyed appearance falling. "You look well today, if I may say so."

Surprised and highly amused by the girl's actions, I swallowed my glee. Her fancy for him was much too obvious, but - I noted - she did not embellish. He did look well. His white satin dress shirt was hidden partially by a midnight blue doublet lined with some gold - Spanish style. But still, I was not one to acknowledge things of the sort.

Clement smiled his trademark smile - roguish and very winning. "I do not execute those who compliment, Giselle. You too look very fine today." The little blonde beamed and flushed magenta at this. "You have my gratitude for bringing Lady Rozenta. I may call upon you again for another errand; be wary."

Her nod was a bit too eager, and she stepped away with a bounce in her step after uttering, "Your Majesty" in a joyous tone. When she was well away, I greeted Clement properly. I should've bowed before, but I was too preoccupied with Giselle's presentation to remember.

"Your Highness." My greeting was curt, as was the deep nod that followed. He frowned at my formality.

"It is very fortunate that I actually managed to pull you from that confounded chamber of yours, but you seem changed. Does something displease you?" he asked, his tone touched with concern and a bit of frustration as well.

I pursed my lips. "You dare to ask me that, Prince Clement?"

His temper began to rise; I could simply see it. "Yes, I do dare. I've tried my best to let you do as you pleased, but the other courtiers are beginning to notice. It is not in the nature of a noblewoman to hide herself from society."

My anger was piqued. "It is not any of my concern what they think, or what they question. It is no concern of theirs to busy themselves with what I do. I would've thought that their own lives were too hectic to allow such idle thought."

"I've tipped someone over, hmm?"

"Oh, don't say that. I've been mad at you for so long a time now, and you do not know it?"

He paused. "Any particular reason?"

"The same reason I am in this ridiculous dress."

A boyish grin broke across his face, lighting it up. It nearly unseated me. I could never stay mad at him for so long.

"It is a ridiculous dress, yes, but a beautiful one. It makes you look stunning."

I wanted to glare, to glower, to hold tight onto my determination to keep my rage. It was what kept me strong. I definitely did not want my face to break into a foolishly pleased smile, and nor did I want to let the words, "It does? I hadn't thought so" pass from my lips. But it happened anyway.

He chuckled. "You barely look at the pleasant and beautiful things about you, don't you? It's quite a shame; there are so many that I didn't think you'd miss any of them."

I did not open my mouth for fear that I'd let out a delighted squeak.

He stared at me with that stupid, childish grin on his face, and I struggled to keep my face blank and uncaring. But inside me... feelings were all a-fire. I wanted to hate him for what he did to me, for taking me away from all that I held dear, but... I found I couldn't. And for that too, I was enraged, for never before had I been so weak in resolve. I wanted to strike him dead, but at the same time, I wanted to make him smile again.

He abandoned his fool's grin for a more serious pose, and clapped his hands together in a business-like manner. And I knew it instantly; I just knew it. It had always been in the back of my mind. My stay here had been too idle, and had been without task and work for too long a time, and now they'd make me make up for all that now. There was business to be taken care of, and I would be the one to do so.

"But I called you down here for a reason, rather than to compliment you. If that had been my sole purpose, I would've just broken down your chamber door and showered you with heartfelt gush."

I grunted. He was certainly not that desperate.

"So there is a favor I ask of you. I've been formulating the idea in my mind all this time, and I knew not how'd you feel on the matter, but now I shall finally find out. You've been presented with this idea before, although you surely cannot remember."

I frowned in puzzlement. He lost me there.

"But... even as a pretend noblewoman, you certainly play the part well. You are charismatic, and logical, and very persuasive -"

"Spare me."

"Fine, fine, I'll be brief. But you are, I'll let you know -"

"Clement..."

"All right, all right." He grinned; it was almost a laugh. "I ask of you a politician; one who may represent. One who can truly speak on the behalf of their people, and not lie once."

My eyes widened.

"Would you represent the Gypsies at my parents' welcoming feast?"

Every adoring feeling I currently harbored for him flew out the window; I wanted to shriek. This was... an outrage! The idea was as outrageous now as it had been when it was first presented: on my first breakfast in the suffocating palace! I did not think him serious, and I knew in the back of my mind that I had no choice, but the indignity of it all was absolutely preposterous. A politician! The idea was mere lunacy!

"You cannot ask this of me. You cannot!"

He sighed, rubbing his forehead as a gesture of frustration. "I can, and I do. How else can you expect me to present you to my parents? As my personal whore?"

I gasped and gaped, even if I knew that to be an embellishment. If he hadn't been born a Crown Prince, I would've slapped him.

"But Clement... these are your parents! You cannot possibly think that I can pass off as a representative of Gypsies! And that would spoil my secret! You expect me to defend Gypsies when I am supposedly of foreign, noble blood?"

"I did not say you'd defend them directly, now did I? Just defend these Elysians of yours, but describe them as relatives of the Gypsies! My parents would certainly believe it. As a wise man once said, the closer one gets to the truth, the harder it becomes for another to trace the secret."

But I was beginning to despair; I didn't want to listen to his reasoning. No one in their healthy state of mind could truly expect this from me: a lying, sixteen-year-old Gypsy maiden who was merely a good actress. My anger left only room for desperation, now. If I were found out, I'd be beheaded.

"Oh, Clement. These are your parents; these are the monarchs of our country! You cannot expect them to be so stupid! Do you not realize I may lose my life for this?"

He lifted his head, and stared me square in the eye. The blue of his cobalt eyes seemed electric. "That is what I wish to prevent, Rozenta. With this story, they would not bother to be suspicious. I know them. But without any story at all..."

The pressure, the tension, the anger, the sickness... I wanted to cry, but I wanted to be strong. My desire to prove my fortitude only made my heart ache harder.

"But, Clement... I will die. I'll never see my camp again!"

And there it was: the true essence of my pain. I lost a childhood, and those dear to me, and a past full of wonderful memories. And I didn't think I'd ever find my camp again; although it seemed so simple and easy to hope that they'd still be in the Arvette Forest, I was gone for a long time, longer than any span of time they ever spent in one place. They could be on the other side of the country, for all I knew! My mother, and father, and friends, and relatives... I might never see them again. I would be stuck reading philosophy texts for the rest of my life in this damned castle, courtesy of a selfish prince whose head was too big to harbor a crown.

My eyes began to water, and I bit my lip. The unshed tears began to make my eyes sore, and my head was beginning to hurt, but I would not let them fall. I had to be strong. I just had to. I couldn't fall apart now.

"Rozenta? Rozenta? Rozenta!"

I did not reply. That was not my name. It never was. It wasn't even a nickname; it was a lie. That was what I was living now. A lie. And I had gone too far into the lie to keep the chance to save myself. If I tried to run away, I'd surely get caught and I'd be hung, as the guards would recognize me as that thief and they'd most likely notify the King and Queen. If I ran away and escaped, I'd wander around the Arvette Forest, never finding my camp, or even the remains of it; I'd have nowhere to go. If I exposed my true identity and attempted to beg mercy... that was the disastrous choice. I'd be beheaded. There was nothing I could do.

Stay strong... must stay strong... cannot lose just yet... must prove myself to him...

I felt his hands on my shoulders, pressing them gently, trying to awaken me from my frantic stupor. The tears were still threatening to fall, but I knew they wouldn't. The pain was now numb. This was not the 'strong' I was hoping to achieve, but either way it was some form of strength. That was what I wanted: strength. Any form of it, so long as it was strength.

"Are you all right? Do you hear me? Would you like me to send for the healers? Rozenta?"

His voice was becoming more distant with every passing second; I was still wrapped up in my thoughts. Indeed, I had no other place to go, nothing else to do. Except... Clement had actually given me another choice, another way to find the ending I'd been hoping for. If I played off the task well enough, he may find no other reason with which to bind me to his accursed place, and I could be home with my family. Yes... I might just consider the option. I mean, it would be a hard task, speaking on the behalves of those that didn't really mingle with politics, but if I played my part right, I may get away with my head still on my shoulders and my neck intact. It would keep me in the good graces of the people that really mattered, and it would give me license to stay and license to leave. I could leave without having to resort to running away, and that would raise no suspicions and would raise no guards. Maybe... just maybe...

I was seeing things clearly for the first time. Although Clement presented the idea with reasons that I knew not, I would make the best of my stay here, and be given good right to leave. I may not find them, but at least I could search for them without having to look too often over my shoulder, and if I did find them...

I knew what to do. I knew what choice to make.

Clement's hands were still pressed into my shoulder, and he was shaking me gently. He was frighteningly near me; the distance was not even a whole foot. I looked up and stared into his eyes, reading him. His brow furrowed, and he looked puzzled.

"Rozenta?"

What I whispered was scarcely for him to hear, but was rather meant for me to contemplate upon.

"I know what to do. I know the right choice."

"Oh, you do, do you? Does it include me sending the healers and witchwoman here, or not? Are you feeling better? You still look possessed."

This time, what I said next was meant for his ears.

"I shall do it."

This took him completely by surprise. Apparently, it was not what he expected. He had, after all, seen so much defiance performed by me, and this was a quick change of mind. If only he knew how much thought took place before the decision was made...

"You... shall?" His voice was disbelieving, and honestly, I couldn't blame him.

"Yes."

His eyebrows were slowly climbing up his forehead, now. "Well... as long as I didn't force you into the decision. I didn't, did I?"

I was beginning to feel like myself again, rather than the chanting oracle I had become for a moment. The space between us (or lack thereof, rather) was beginning to get to me - my heart began racing immediately. I could practically hear my pulse rushing, and I knew the blood was rushing to my face. My flesh was burning.

"I am feeling better. You may let go of me now."

Clement ignored this; and he did not remove his hands. "Are you certain of your decision? You know how to do this, don't you?"

I chuckled a bit, but softly. I didn't need to be loud when he was barely half a foot away from me. "Barely. But I'll improvise. It's what I've been doing up to now, and I've done reasonably well."

He grinned, not moving his face an inch farther away from mine. "Exceptionally well. You are sure?"

"Yes... it's the only true choice I've got left, isn't it?"

We fell silent for a moment, and all the while, I couldn't really tear my gaze from his. No words passed between us, but feelings did, and thoughts, and desires, and insecurities. There was so much to say, but no strength to say any of it. I don't know if I imagined it or not, but he was starting to move a little closer.

This frightened me, and I moved back - just a little - but found myself rooted in my seat. He was staring into my eyes again, and his eyes looked glazed over. I smiled, and hid a sad laugh, and feeling very self-conscious, I knew that my own eyes were red and watery, and that my nose was a bit pink, and that my face still looked a bit closed. He still continued to stare.

My smile fell, and I stared back.

I knew his face was close now, very very close, and that he was steadily moving closer. I wanted to cry out, to wake him from his own stupor, but I had no voice, and I was feeling too dazed and exhilirated to stop him. I only knew one thing: I was frightened right out of my skin.

His lips only started to brush by mine before I jumped back, electrified, and nearly stumbling off of my chair. Embarassed and shameful and wanting to leave before he registered what was going on, I stood up and stepped back, staring at him all the while. He was staring at me as though I were outright mad.

"I... must go! Prepare! For the feast! I will... speak to you later, your Highness!" Positively squeaking, I turned and hurried on my way out of the dining hall. My wits were gone, and my determination was reduced to absolutely nothing, and I felt as though I couldn't walk right. So many feelings in such a short, span of time... not even the strongest woman could take it without feeling discomfort.

I only looked back when I reached the door, and what I saw scared me, made me want to run back to him and beg forgiveness: he was sitting with his legs apart, his elbows propped up on his knees, and his head buried in his hands. I looked around hastily and found we were actually alone; the servants must've left when they realized that the prince and I were having an argument. I was glad of it; I couldn't stand the shame.

I don't know why I ran off, but I did, and there was no use going back and starting everything all over again. I already messed it up, and I didn't wish to ruin it further.

I pulled the doors opened, slipped through them, and once they were shut again, I laughed my way to the quarters. The laughter was tragic and heartfelt, joyous and miserable, and insane. I didn't know what to think.

o...o...o...o...o

I dozed off in my chamber for a few hours, or perhaps more than a few. Dreams of his face so close to mine haunted me, and followed me, and when I awoke I was more than relieved. As I slept - still in that green-gold gown - on my bed, someone had been rapping frenetically on my chamber door. Peeved, I jumped up, pulled it open, and saw a harassed-looking Elaine staring at me as though I were a madwoman.

"They are here, and you missed their arrival, you fool! The feast will start soon, and - you've been sleeping, haven't you? Why, you've completely mussed your dress - and it had been so beautiful. Go on, let me in, I've got to fix you up now."

My jaw dropped, and my eyes went as wide as tea saucers, but she ushered me to the vanity anyway. Starting off with my rebellious hair, she grinned into the mirror, and it even crinkled her wide eyes a bit. That was unexpected.

"Oh, and the next time you and the prince choose to share an intimate moment, do not select the dining hall. Only a downright fool would do such a thing."

I wanted to scream; I had been so sure no one had been lurking about. But I was half-crazed at the time - I was surely wrong.

I marveled at Elaine's gift at finding out everything. The little ... chat Clement and I shared was obviously known to Elaine only, since it would've been high-quality gossip wildfiring the palace if anyone else knew, but still, I was astounded.

"How much did you hear?" I managed to get out, and thankfully, my voice was too breathy to quiver. She shrugged, tugged on my hair, and smirked.

"Enough. Now stop slouching; I cannot fix your hair neatly enough with you slopping yourself over the vanity-top."

She laughed, and although still astounded she knew, I laughed too. To speak truthfully, I would've died if I had to keep that secret all to myself. Elaine was my friend, and it was a relief that she knew. There was nothing harder than keeping the undeniable truth from your dearest companions.

Afterthoughts:

Haha, thought I wouldn't manage to make it up to you, eh? Well, I did! Hey, the kiss had to happen sometime, and although this chapter was, to me, badly written, I managed to fit everything that had to be included. Difficult, but I managed. This is, personally, my favorite chapter so far, and although she seems to have unreasonable mood changes (i.e. - going from indignant, to despairing, to lovesick...), I managed to blend it all well. She is just feeling so many emotions, and she can't seem to contain them in the right way. I don't blame her; I honestly don't. But anyway, I don't want to keep this fic neglected any longer, and I aim to write unpredictably and to keep my readers satisfied, and to turn this story from a classical, stuffy novel to a fantastical, exciting, and impulsive tale. If you do not like the change, then just say so, but take my word for it: you would find the latter a much better choice.

P.S. - The format may be screwed up, as I am using Wordpad instead of Microsoft Word. Sad, but true. Credit my dad and his crazy restoring phases.