Title: Heiress (Addition/Continuation)

Genre: Romance

Pairings: Matt x Natalie, Lance x Anna

Rating: M

Warnings: Language, sexual themes, death, blood, implied torture

The man convulsed once more before gasping out a final breath and slumping still, eyes glazing into a permanent gaze of desperation. There were no wounds on him, her magic did nothing to help him; even her revival spell had no effect. It seemed as though one moment, the man had been fine and telling her some silly little anecdote, and the next his body had turned on him. But she had been with him the entire evening! He'd gone nowhere without her, talked to no one out of her presence, eaten nothing she had not...

Natalie's hand flew to her throat and her eyes widened with horror when, with a sudden chill of dread, she realized exactly what had happened. Poison. But how? Taste testers tried some of every dish in the room before the nobles would touch it! And it had been a communal buffet, so how had they managed to only get their targeted dignitary without poisoning everyone else?

"Unless they did poison everyone else," Natalie realized aloud in horror.

Everyone, including her.

Her heart raced against her will, speeding the process of the poison to the point that she could feel her fingers and toes beginning to go numb. With determined, icy calm, she forced her breathing to slow down as she turned her most powerful cleanse spell on herself. She wasn't dead yet, and whether that was because she had ingested less of whatever dish had been poisoned, or because her own natural defenses were aiding her, she didn't know. It didn't matter. She was still breathing, and she refused to stop. She was Natalie, conquerer of Akron, bane of Godcat, hero of the land, and no mere poison would kill her.

The numbing sensation slowed to a crawl as her mana fought with relentless fury. But it didn't stop, and her chest was starting to feel tight. Natalie shut her eyes in desperate concentration, and the soft glow surrounding her body began to grow in intensity. Distantly, she heard shouts of alarm as guards discovered more victims of the poison followed by shouts to find her. Plated boots clattered down the hall growling louder and louder before coming to a halt before her. Natalie didn't open her eyes as she addressed the guards in a weak, wheezing voice.

"Find... the castle alchemist... Can't purify it on my own... Need an antidote..."

"Understood. You, wait here with the Lady Regent. I'll go bring the healer."

"Yessir!"

"Wait," Natalie croaked. She didn't open her eyes to see if the order was heard, but continued anyway, "Get... some of the food..."

The first guard made a sound of confusion, but Natalie was too tired to figure out how to explain what she meant. Luckily for her, the second guard understood much more quickly.

"The dinner! Something was poisoned at the dinner! We'll need a sample of that to identify the poison and find an antidote!"

"Ah, of course! Just hold on, milady. We'll have you back on your feet in no time!"

Natalie didn't say anything, too wrapped up in a losing battle with the poison to respond, much less come up with an assurance that she would be fine. She could feel the numbness spreading faster, and she wondered if this was actually going to be it for her after all. Dying of poison on the cold floor of her family's castle rather than in bed surrounded by loved ones, or even at the fangs and claws of some monster seemed so horribly unfitting for the end of her life. Lance and Anna would never let her spirit forget it. And Matt... Never had she thought she would die without even getting to say goodbye to him. They didn't do goodbyes, only promises to see each other again soon.

No, she couldn't change that now. She couldn't give up yet.

"Is she still awake?"

"I- I think so? She only just collapsed a few moments ago."

Natalie's eyes fluttered and she realized in idle surprise that at some point, she'd laid down. She couldn't even feel the cold of the stone floor. Polished boots skidded to a halt in front of her eyes before a wizened hand reached forwards to roll her onto her back, then pried her jaw open with surprising strength. A slimy, bitter liquid flooded her mouth, rushing past her tongue, and she reflexively gagged, trying to spit it out before that same hand covered her mouth and nose. An instinctive fear took hold. No more poison. She couldn't handle anymore poison. She hadn't even handled the first batch.

"Easy, easy, milady. You must swallow this," a reedy voice soothed above her. "Come now, don't be a child. I know it's bitter, but all the best medicines are bitter. This is even more true for antidotes."

Natalie relaxed at that word, a shudder of relief passing through her. Antidote. Right. She'd sent for an antidote. That made this man with the horrible liquid the royal alchemist. She swallowed the antidote, sending another shudder through her body, and one she relished. There would be no goodbyes to Matt and the others just yet.

"There, that's it. Heavens, you are a lucky one. Few survive the distilled venom of the Forest Wraith," the healer murmured as he finally released her several long minutes later.

"And I'm sure fewer still know the antidote," Natalie croaked with a faint smile. Her eyes opened to stare up at the ring of hazy faces over her, but mainly at the most wrinkled one. "I knew we kept your old bones around for a reason."

His face wrinkled further as he smiled. "Yes, how wise of your family. Now, how are you feeling?"

"Like my stomach and intestines liquified," Natalie replied bluntly, shutting her eyes again. "I'm cold and exhausted."

"Not surprising. You had one foot in the realm of the dead. How's the head?"

"...Kinda fuzzy? No blank spots besides when I collapsed. Fingers are tingling. I guess the nerves are coming back."

The healer chuckled. "I keep forgetting you're an experienced healer yourself. In the end, that is likely what saved you tonight."

Natalie shook her head slightly, suddenly feeling vulnerable and afraid. "I couldn't cleanse it. I've never been unable to cleanse a poison or venom before."

"Perhaps, but you certainly slowed the effects enough for aid to reach you, and that is nothing to sniff at," the healer countered before his voice softened. "Now, now... You're safe... Save the tears for the others."

Natalie's eyes snapped open, and the sudden rush of adrenalin gave her the energy to begin trying to sit up only for a guard to hold her down at the healer's directive. "Oh, gods... How many others died?" There was silence as the men over her exchanged somber looks, and Natalie's heart twisted. "...All of them?"

"...Yes, milady. The twenty five members of the retinue, the five taste testers, one maid, and two chefs have passed," one of the guards finally reported in a tight voice. "They were fine for over an hour before suddenly dropping mid speech."

"Like Lord Galesburg," Natalie murmured, turning her head to where the man lay, now covered with a cloth. She shut her eyes before turning forwards again. "Do we have any suspects?"

The healer interrupted the guard's report. "That is certainly something that can wait. You two, help the Lady Regent to her quarters. She needs rest. Too much strain to her body now could lead to complications in her recovery."

Natalie frowned at that, wanting to argue, but knowing better. It was no different than what she would have suggested if she'd been the one tending a victim of poison. As such, she allowed the guards to haul her up and support her weakened frame, though she was alarmed at how feeble all her muscles were. Further proof of needing rest, she grimly mused.

"I want a full sweep of the castle and grounds. Gather up all unsealed food and drink and dispose of it. We can't be sure what's been contaminated or not. For now, avoid using the wells until we can be sure they're safe. Send Jeffery to replenish the larder enough for tomorrow's meals. If you catch the perpetrator, or have any suspects, have them detained alive in the Pit. I'll see them once I'm back on my feet," she ordered. "As for the dead... Have them gathered and inform their families as soon as they're identified. Have the scribes begin writing a full report and formal apology for Lord Galesburg's widow."

OOOOOO

Matt's brows rose at the demand. "You want to search me? What the heck for?"

"New policy, my lord," the guard explained in an apologetic undertone. He glanced around before lowering his voice even further. "We know you'd never hurt the Lady Regent, but..."

Now Matt's brows furrowed in suspicious concern. "Is Natalie okay?"

"There has been a string of incidents—accidents only, of course, but they've been frequent enough to be concerned. Security has been increased accordingly."

The news caused Matt's heart to skip a beat and a flash of fury to rise. His mind raced even as he allowed the guard to pat him down, check his pockets, and even his adventure pouch. Someone was trying to hurt, maybe even kill, Natalie. He distantly thanked the guard for allowing him through, and set an immediate path for Natalie's room. It was in the front atrium that he suspected he'd found the site of one of the "accidents".

Scaffolding had been erected up near the ceiling where a chandelier was missing. Cracks on the stone floor told him the fixture had fallen—or been dropped. Further along, he passed a section of snapped banister by the viewing platform. After a discreet glance around, he ducked under the velvet divider to inspect the spokes still stuck in the floor. As he'd suspected, the wood had been sawed partway through, only just enough to be noticeable when closely checked, but also compromised enough to snap under too much weight. The drop was almost two stories: easily a lethal fall.

With a scowl, Matt ducked back onto his path, taking in the extra guardsmen located at all entrances, and the suspicious gazes of the servants he passed. When he reached the stairwell leading to Natalie's private wing, he was stopped by crossed spears.

"Only pre-approved individuals beyond this point," one of the two guards said in a firm growl. "Turn back."

Matt's scowl deepened. "I am Matt Roszak of the House of Wolves. Stand aside."

"You could be my nanny's ailing grandmother, or cousin to the king, and I wouldn't move. Pre-approved individuals only. Now scram."

For a few moments, Matt seriously considered taking down the guardsmen, both to get them out of his way and to prove a point. Fortunately—for the guardsmen—a tired, but welcome voice spoke up.

"Let him through."

Matt's eyes rose past the crossed spears to the sight of an exhausted looking Natalie leaning against the stone wall at the top of the curved stairwell. Her eyes were dull with deep shadows under them and her face was a little too pale, though she smiled at him all the same. He barely noticed the spears dropping, and he completely ignored the guards' threats of execution should anything befall their Lady Regent. In fact, he hardly registered moving up the stairs to stand before Natalie, looking down at her with concern.

"You look awful," Matt breathed worriedly.

One of Natalie's slender shoulders rose and fell in a tired acknowledgement as she turned to lead the way to her room. Matt's concern only grew when she stumbled as soon as they were out of sight of the guards, and he reached out to catch and steady her. Without a word, he bent to pick her up and carried her the rest of the way to her private quarters, merely nodding a thanks to the two familiar guards outside that opened the way.

Natalie's chambers hadn't changed much, though things were in a bit of a cluttered state of disarray. The largest change was the iridescent barrier that stretched across her balcony and windows. Matt's worry increased as he settled Natalie on her bed and fussed with the sheets and pillows to make her comfortable. Natalie let out a long, relieved sigh and shut her eyes for a few moments as a few lines of worry on her face smoothed out now that she had Matt's protection.

"I'm glad you're here," she murmured when her eyes opened again.

Matt gave her a tight smile in return as he smoothed her hair back. "Sorry I wasn't here sooner. I would have come immediately, if I'd known. You should have sent a messenger, or NoLegs."

"I tried, but NoLegs couldn't pinpoint your location in the swamp, and no courier or knight was willing to risk finding you on foot—especially not when they all think they should be here to deal with assassins," Natalie snorted with a roll of her eyes.

"What all has happened? I saw the aftermath of the chandelier, and the balcony rail, but neither of those could explain how run down you look," Matt breathed as he studied Natalie's drawn features.

"I'm tired, is all," Natalie promised, stifling a yawn as she spoke. "It's a little harder to sleep when you might be attacked at any time, and it's not like my duties just up and vanish just because a crisis is happening." Her expression flickered slightly as she debated her next words before she added solemnly, "I'm also still recovering from a near miss with poison."

Matt's blood ran cold, and he rocked back slightly in shock. "Poison?" he repeated faintly. "How the heck did they poison you?! You have taste testers, right? And why didn't you or another healer just cleanse it?!"

"Dinner a week ago," Natalie explained softly, her eyes dark. "The bastards are smart. They picked a slow acting nerve agent that's resistant to magical cures. Unfortunately for them, the castle's herbologist is a master in poisons and their effects, as well as antidotes, and my mana and magic are much more powerful than a typical mage's. I was able to slow the effects down even before the antidote arrived. Even still, I was on bedrest for three days, and everyone else who ate that meal died that same night. The populace at large, and most of the guards, don't know, which is part of the reason royal duties are carrying on as normal."

"Wouldn't it be easier to explain? I mean, opening the gates for the daily complaints is begging an assassin to slip in. You've been lucky and skilled so far, but eventually, someone else is going to get luckier."

Not to downplay Natalie's ability, or his own, but it was a fact of fighting that something could always go horribly wrong. He was confident that he could protect her when she herself couldn't, but there were some things he couldn't stop. A slow acting nerve agent potent enough to kill an entire gathering of people? It wasn't a physical target he could intercept or kill.

"If I order the gates shut, then I breed discontent with the people. And the people, when they get too discontent and disillusioned, have this nasty habit of making their problems known with sharp objects and fire; usually somebody rich gets lynched. The weekly hearing of grievances goes a long way towards connecting with and placating the people," Natalie explained in a tired, but patient voice. She tried for a half smile. "Besides, I'd go nuts if I only spoke to the masters of coin and affairs."

"You'd be safer if the gates stayed shut until the problem is resolved," Matt grumbled before heaving a sigh. "But I can already see I'll lose this argument. Where do you want me? What do you need me to do?"

Natalie's smile grew and her eyes softened. She'd known there would be no need to ask Matt to stay, but it felt so good to have it become a real fact. It didn't matter that the team had been on hiatus for over a year, Matt still had her back. The gods couldn't have made a more loyal friend if they'd tried.

"I need a bodyguard—a good one—so the nobles will shut up and quit trying to curry favor by foisting their guard captains on me. A Roszak will shut them all up, and there's no one I trust more than you."

Matt's lips curled in a flattered smile, but he sensed she wasn't done speaking yet.

"This room is as safe as anywhere is ever going to get, so we can still sleep without a watch, but anywhere outside of it is most certainly not safe. I'm not going to lie, you are going to be bored to tears—frustrated, too—but you'll have to sit in on meetings and visits with me. The nobles will bother you about everything from the way you dress and what your plans are for your estate and future, to what my plans and life entail. Ignore them if you want, or send them on wild goose chases, I don't care, but don't touch them or grossly offend them. That means no making fun of the ridiculous hats."

"Phooey," Matt chuckled. "Grathson's hats look like pieces of a taxidermist's collection, though."

"His are nothing. Lady Penelope's are sometimes actually alive," Natalie laughed before shaking her head and getting back to the task at hand. Her expression was serious as she brought her eyes up to meet Matt's. "Being my guard will make you a target, Matt."

Matt shrugged nonchalantly, "Being your friend makes me a target. It's not going to stop me. I'll need a cot in here, or I can take the window seat."

OOOOOO

It didn't take Matt long to realize that maybe Natalie had publicly needed a guard, but what she'd really needed privately was a friend. Having known her for years let him see all the minute, tell-tale signs of building stress and frustration that she never let color her voice or expression in public. Her expression was impeccably poised and calm, while they were out among the nobles, retainers, and visitors, but he could see her fingers stiffen ever so slightly and her words became slightly more formal and controlled. Once they returned to her quarters, however, he listened patiently while she raged at her pillows or him, or simply sat in supportive silence when she chose to glare balefully out the window. The intensity of her stress varied from day to day, but the truth was that she was just about always one giant ball of high-strung nerves and frustration.

He wished, with no small amount of frustration of his own, that he knew what to do to help her relax. Before taking up the mantle of Lady Regent, he would have suggested a night out at a tavern, or tackling some satisfying monsters to incinerate. Neither of those solutions were options now, however, and their resources were limited to the confines of her room for as long as the assassination plot remained unresolved.

She needed a distraction, Matt mused as he watched Natalie flop onto her bed one evening to scream into a pillow. Something fun and relaxing, and unrelated to any of her duties as acting head of the royal family. A warm bath? Maybe. If there was one thing Natalie loved, it was the creature comforts a person could only find in an established residence. Without a word, he stood up to go start running one, leaving Natalie to attempt smothering herself on her bed.

The sudden sound of rushing water coaxed Natalie to roll her face to the side to stare in confusion at her bathroom door. Why the heck was Matt running a bath? They'd both washed that morning. Before long, the soft scent of lavender was drifting through the air and her confusion grew. Unable to hold her curiosity at bay, Natalie stood off the bed to pad into the bathroom just as the water was turned off. Matt stood up, shaking water off his hand, and turned to smile at Natalie.

"Come on and relax," he offered cheerfully as he walked past her back to the bedroom to give her some privacy.

Natalie stared after him for a few moments before looking at the bath—bubble bath, she mentally corrected when she finally really looked at the thick bubbles. Matt had run her a lavender scented bubble bath. She hadn't even known she had bubble soap in the first place. With a fond grin for his gesture, she began unlacing her gown to pull over her head and peeled away the various pieces of lace, underclothes, and jewelry to leave them crumpled on the floor, and sank up to her neck in the hot water.

Back in the bedroom, Matt had fluffed Natalie's pillows and straightened her bedsheets, and was now tidying up her desk. Papers, pens, and reference books littered the polished mahogany surface, ranging from census reports, to crop and livestock counts, to standing treaties. Grievance reports from both nobles and commoners, notes about upcoming events and meetings, a list of all the assassination attempts and details... On and on the different topics and papers went. A map was pinned to the wall above the desk, covered in pins and markers, and annotated in Natalie's neat handwriting. Finally, Matt settled on organizing the papers by topic and then by date and lining the stacks up in a neat row. It was as he was gathering up the last few scraps of notes that he found a nondescript, untitled, leather bound book. Curious, Matt opened the cover and found a number of small tally charts on the inside cover.

"Numbers of proposals: twenty-seven," Matt read aloud, uncertain whether it was upsetting or amusing. His eyes moved to the next chart, "Offers of strolls in the garden: ...sixty three. Geez, how many times has she gone on walks, then? Let's see what else..."

Matt's eyes glanced across a dozen small charts, ranging from bottles of perfumes used, to curses accidentally muttered in her presence, counting the tick marks and wondering about each one. The last three charts had been heavily crossed through, and he had to squint to make them out. And once he did, his heart fell.

"...Visits from Anna, Lance, Matt," he read aloud.

There were no marks on any of them, and he assumed Natalie had crossed them out because she'd given up on them coming to see her. Guiltily, he thought back to all the excuses he'd made to himself to avoid stepping foot in the castle—all the way up to Natalie's birthday: not wanting to make her feel obligated, not wanting to impose, not wanting to pressure, hatred of the attention he got... The reasons were so petty in hindsight. And all along, Natalie had been waiting for him, for any of them, to come see her. And all along, she'd been wound tighter and tighter. He doubted the pillow screams were something new, anyway.

What a friend he was.

Idly, he turned the first page to find a dated entry, and he abruptly realized the book must be Natalie's journal. Immediately, he shut the cover with a guilty wince and moved to set the book down on the stack of atlases and law references. But he hesitated to let go of it completely. It was a gross breach of privacy to read Natalie's personal diary, but on the other hand, she'd been awfully close-lipped about life in the castle, even after he'd lived and experienced it for several weeks. Reading her journal just might be the only way he'd get a true insight on her mental health.

"I shouldn't..." he mumbled with a guilty glance at the bathroom where he could hear Natalie humming and splashing.

This was his chance to know the truth without a censorship, his shoulder devil reasoned. Natalie would never tell him. She never told him about the important things in her life. It was her right and choice, of course, but it hurt a little that she didn't seem to trust him.

And she'd be entirely right not to trust him if he started snooping through her private things, his shoulder angel pointed out smartly. He had no right to breach her privacy so thoroughly.

But what if he found something that he could use to help her? Ultimately, however, he let go of the book and turned his back. If he was going to help Natalie, then he would do it right. With a nod to himself, he turned to polish Heaven's Gate. He didn't look up again until Natalie emerged over an hour later with wet hair and a relaxed smile on her face, bundled in a thick robe.

"Thanks, Matt, I needed that," Natalie sighed as she sank to sit on her bed and then laid back amongst her pillows.

"You don't say?" Matt teased as he set his weapon aside and stretched his legs out. "That pillow scream was easily twenty seconds long—a new record, even."

"Exaggerations aside, you have to admit the guy was being a pompous pill," Natalie chuckled. She rolled onto her side with one arm pillowed under her head to smile at Matt, "I'm proud of you for not yawning during his spiel."

"Yawning, no, but I confess to nearly sleeping with my eyes open," Matt joked with a faux-chastened expression.

"Don't let the guards hear that you're falling asleep on duty," Natalie warned with a sparkle of amusement glinting in her eyes.

Matt made a noncommittal noise before changing topics. "So, what's on the agenda tomorrow? Do you still have those couple of hours free after lunch?"

"I do. You mentioned something you wanted to get done then," Natalie agreed with a curious glint in her eyes.

"I need to duck into town to grab something I had commissioned. I know you're not supposed to leave the castle, but..."

Natalie's expression fell with disappointment and she shook her head. "I'd love to, but I can't. All the entrances have guards now, even the sewage gates. There's no way they'll let me through for an unofficial trip. You can still go, though. I'll just wait in here."

"I don't want to make you waste your only free time in here," Matt protested guiltily.

"It's fine. It's not like there's anywhere private in the castle I can go to that I haven't been to a thousand times before. I'll just read one of the books I had the librarian set aside for me," Natalie promised with a faint smile.

She made no mention or indication of her disappointment at not being able to spend the time with him. There was nothing exciting they could do in the castle anyway, so perhaps it was just as well that he had something he needed to do. Frankly, she was impressed that he hadn't been chaffing to go outside the castle more often.

OOOOOO

"We worry about your... dignity... my lady."

Natalie paused in straightening the papers before her and looked up with an arched brow. "You worry about my what?"

The seven advisors each shifted uncomfortably and exchanged looks before one grew bold enough to explain.

"Your personal guard, Lord Roszak," he began hesitantly. "He has been, ah, sharing quarters with you, correct?"

Natalie's expression smoothed out into impassiveness as she began to suspect where this was going. It was probably a good thing Matt wasn't here at that moment. "Of course he has. He can hardly guard me from all the way over in the nobles' wing, after all."

"But there have been no requests for a cot to be sent up, or a bed erected," the advisor went on more boldly when he wasn't immediately shut down. The brief certainty began to waver as Natalie's eyebrow began arching again. "Ah, what I- we mean to say is that it would be unseemly for a nobleman to be sleeping on the floor, and you have shown to be more... accommodating... than that, and-"

Natalie raised a hand to halt his rambling explanation, her eyes sharp, though her expression didn't shift from the mask of impatience. It would be so much easier if they would just come out and say what they were thinking and not try to talk their way around it—it was hardly a subtle point, after all. Yet bringing it up herself would make her seem guilty, even if it was clear to all eight of them what the issue was.

Well, she could play their game.

"Rest assured that Lord Mattius Roszak is not sleeping on the floor, gentlemen," she promised with a hint of coolness that wordlessly conveyed her distaste for their stalling.

A different advisor spoke up. "There have been rumors, milady, that you and Lord Roszak have been seen in rather... disreputably questionable positions and locations in the past. Several of the staff have wondered to your chastity, given the common knowledge of the lodgings at bars and taverns you have retired at in the past few years. And as you have refused any and all proposals, we seven have begun to become concerned whether you are perhaps already intimately involved with Lord Roszak. As you know, such rumors could cause a significant upset in the delicate political landscape you are currently navigating."

Natalie's eyebrows lowered and she stood up slowly and deliberately. "While I thank you all for your insights and attentions to idle gossip and prattle, who is or is not sharing my bed is not up for discussion," she stated frostily. Her eyes swept across the seven advisors, causing each of them to uncomfortably drop their gazes after just a brief look. "You make a vile and slanderous accusation against both house Lunetreil and house Roszak by stating what you do. Furthermore, I do not appreciate the insinuation that my chastity or lack there of is of any concern to any of you, or the other nobles, or anyone else, and I much less appreciate the insinuation that I am a young child in need of protecting from the more intimate and visceral sides of the human nature. I also do not appreciate the repeated mentions and urges to become the bride of one of your sons to further your own selfish and inane political goals. And I especially do not appreciate the insinuations that my close friend, whom I trust with my life, a noble of far higher birth and standing than any of you, is somehow not fit to be considered for my partner."

"We merely are concerned for the stability and longevity of your royal house," one advisor timidly tried to placate. The look Natalie fixed him with was withering, and he shrank back in his chair with a chastened expression.

Natalie flatly bit out. "I am currently next in line, but it will be up to my brother, the king, to continue the family lineage, which I trust he will do with a graceful and open mind. You are my advisors in the political field, and I value your individual insights, but, ultimately, all decisions are currently my own to make. I will hear no more talk of my royal wedding, or of my private affairs. Is that understood?"

The advisors each nodded meekly, and Natalie nodded in return before sitting back down.

"Lord Roszak is currently sleeping on the daybed in my room, but I will see to it that a proper bed is obtained and erected for him tonight. Now, is there anything else of import that we have not already discussed?" she went on in a level voice. When they remained still and silent, she stood up. "Very well, I shall see you all in four days time."

And with that, she swept from the room with a straight back and a firm stride. Out in the hall, the two guards she'd brought as an escort scrambled to fall into step behind her, all but trotting to keep up with her swift stride. They exchanged baffled looks at the obvious and unusual irritation coming from their regent, but ultimately kept silent and resumed their watch outside her door when she entered.

Inside the room, Natalie shot Matt—who was waiting for her with a highly disapproving expression for her leaving her room without him to accompany her—a sour look that told him she didn't want to hear a lecture. The swordsman's mouth tightened slightly, but he said nothing as she stormed past to the bathroom and slammed the door. He flinched slightly at the loud noise and wondered what had happened to cause her to lose the cool she'd cultivated and maintained during her tenure as regent. Almost without thought, his hand rose to brush his pocket where the gift he'd picked up for her waited in a small box.

Later, he silently decided. Natalie needed some alone time to calm down, and giving her a gift could definitely wait. Instead, he settled down on the day bed and stared out the window, watching the tiny figures of the castle grounds bustle about like ants on a hill as the sun dipped lower in the sky. That was where Natalie found him when she emerged from the bathroom two hours later.

"Sorry... for brushing you off before, and for leaving the room with only a note to explain," Natalie awkwardly mumbled after a few minutes where Matt didn't turn to face her.

Matt shrugged stiffly. "I'm only here as a convenient excuse. You're perfectly capable of looking out for yourself."

Natalie's expression fell some at the description and underlying bitterness in his voice. It was the first time Matt had directly or indirectly spoken of his displeasure of being stuck in the castle with anything other than humor or wistful jokes of running away. It was selfish, she miserably thought, to want him to stay because she'd missed him and enjoyed his companionship. And it was such a relief to know he was an effective ward against the nobles demands and worries about and for her life, which was also a selfish reason for her to want him to stay.

Maybe she could deal with two problems at once. If she sent Matt away, that would quell the rumors that they were sleeping together, and it would free him up to go back to traveling and adventuring. It would mean a return to loneliness and longing for her, of course, but it was only a matter of time before he heard the same rumors her advisors had heard, and he'd be much happier.

Natalie silently swallowed against the lump in her throat and turned for her dresser. "You can leave tomorrow, Matt." She was proud of herself for not letting her voice break over the words.

Matt twitched at her words and turned to look at her in disbelief and confusion. "You're joking, right? I'm not leaving while the assassins and the ones giving them orders are still out there."

"It's been four months since the last incident. I think it's safe to say the danger has passed," Natalie replied briskly as she headed for the screened off corner with a night gown in hand.

Matt frowned at her silhouette. Something was off here, and he was determined to figure out what it was. Natalie loved having him around, so why would she tell him to leave? And while four months was a fair length of time, people wanted her dead, and he was willing to bet they were patient enough to wait for her guard to come down. His mind presented him with an image of Natalie's haggard features when he'd first returned, and his frown deepened. No way was he letting her end up in that state again—not while he was breathing and could do something about it.

"What happened today?" he asked in a level tone. He watched the shadow of Natalie's movements briefly pause before resuming, but she said nothing. "At the meeting. You said the advisors needed to speak with you. What did they say? Do they think I'm responsible for the attacks?"

"Of course not," Natalie snorted. "It was the usual dry meeting of events and numbers, a few complaints, the odd marriage proposal, et cetera, et cetera."

Matt wasn't convinced—especially when Natalie came back around the screen dressed in a light crimson silk night gown with a perfectly blank expression. "That can't have been all. You wouldn't be trying to get rid of me if it was business as usual. And you didn't wait for me to get back, which took less than an hour, and that makes me think I wasn't supposed to hear what was being said."

"Matt, I'm tired. Can we just let it drop?" Natalie sighed as she slid into her bed. Idly, she recalled that she was supposed to be getting a bed in her room for Matt, but decided that could wait until morning.

Matt's jaw set and his eyes became guarded, but his voice softened. "Do you not trust me?"

Natalie stiffened, her eyes flying wide at the uncertain question. She sat up to look at Matt, who was watching her with a subtle longing and sorrow. "Of course I trust you," she soothed.

"No, you don't," Matt muttered bitterly. "If you trusted me, you wouldn't lie to my face about what's bothering you every single day, you wouldn't try to feed me some story to make me leave, and you wouldn't try to dodge my questions by pretending to go to sleep. You never climb into bed before the sun's finished setting."

"I do trust you! With my life!" Natalie protested.

The look Matt fixed on her was resigned and sad. "With your life," he agreed quietly, "but not with you. You've never, in all the years we've known each other, trusted me with all of you."

Natalie flinched at his words. "That's not true!" she weakly refuted.

"Then why is it so hard to tell me what's bothering you? I'm not blind, deaf, or stupid. I see the condescending looks people give you for being a woman and in charge. I hear the mutters that you'd be better off marrying someone and letting your husband do the work. I understand that you're trying to somehow protect me by keeping me in the dark. I see, hear, and understand all of it and more."

Tears welled in Natalie's eyes, and she longed for the simple days of fighting monsters and raiding tombs; the days when it was just a given that she and Matt were one cohesive unit that implicitly understood and supported each other. Now everything was going wrong, and she suddenly feared that maybe Matt would leave, and leave for good.

"They think we're sleeping together," she mumbled in defeat and resignation. Her cheeks flushed pink as she dropped her gaze from Matt's intent stare, and she bitterly added, "They tried to give me a dressing down for potentially having sex outside of wedlock. And then they threw in another roundabout proposal. And people are talking because you're in here every night, and we're well known even outside of our house names. And you're bored here. And I'm being a selfish bitch by wanting you to stay. I don't want to be lonely, and all I ever seem to do is chase people away. And I'm tired of ruling. And I'm tired of the stress of having to seem composed and perfect all the time. And you're going to leave and never come back. And Lance and Anna haven't contacted me in months. And... and..."

Matt listened sympathetically as Natalie rambled off all of her worries and slowly trailed into crying. Silently, he rose from his seat to join her on the bed and wrapped her in a warm hug to let her cry against his chest. And she pressed tighter against him, shaking with emotion and still mumbling her worries intermittently broken up by sobs.

"Sh, sh, Natalie," he murmured as he slowly rocked her back and forth. "I'm not going anywhere, I promise. And I'm sorry for making you even more stressed out."

"Really promise?" Natalie asked in a tiny whisper.

"Really, really promise. I won't leave you alone, and I'll always support you," Matt swore in a low, serious voice. He pushed her back a bit and gave her a half-smile as he brought a hand up to brush her hair from her teary cheeks. "Of course, that might be a conflicted vow if you insist I go. Then I'll have to pick one, and I pick staying."

"Gonna have to court martial you, huh?" Natalie said through a watery laugh. She rubbed her cheeks to try and dry them before shifting around to tuck against Matt's shoulder. "You can stay, if you want."

"I want," Matt promised as he wrapped an arm around her waist.

They sat in silence for a few moments before Matt cleared his throat and reached to fumble with his jacket pocket. He brought out the small box he'd picked up from the jeweler's that afternoon, and offered it to Natalie with a light flush.

"I, uh, had this made. For you," he awkwardly announced. "I was going to wait until tomorrow to give it to you, but, um, I think maybe you need a gift now."

Natalie's own cheeks flushed with flattered delight as she accepted the gift. A small silk ribbon had been tied in a neat bow around the box, though it had been a little crumpled in the swordsman's pocket. A deft tug of her fingers was enough to remove the tie, and she eagerly pulled the lid off to see a small pendant. Her breath caught and she carefully lifted the jewelry off of the velvet cushion it rested on. A delicate gold chain tumbled loose, spilling over her fingers as she brought the necklace up to her eyes.

It was a simple, elegant design that had been crafted by a true master. Twin vines wrought from pure gold twisted in a single small spiral to hold a beautifully faceted, deep red gemstone that glittered in the light. At first, she thought it was a ruby, but it gave off an ethereal shimmer of rainbow light as it turned before her eyes. And the vines, upon closer inspection, were etched with minuscule runes all along them, too small to be read, but obviously an enchantment.

"It's beautiful," Natalie breathed as she brought it even closer and let it spin, inspecting it from every angle. "I've never seen a stone like this. Where did you get it? What is it?"

"It was a piece of a larger ore that I snagged from that wyrm's hoard. The appraiser I brought it to nearly fell over in shock when I set it out to figure out what it was. Turns out I'd managed to snag a hefty chunk of... pyrothrealadic, I think he called it, though apparently, the lay term is Heart Crystal. Super duper rare, and super duper valuable because of its color and uses in enchanting. The guy offered to buy it for his entire stock of valuables as well as a healthy credit. When I refused, he gave me this unsurprised but shrewd look and said I could buy the kingdom from you with the amount I had.

Natalie's eyes widened as she finally tore her eyes away from the necklace to gape up at Matt. "And you didn't sell it?"

"What the heck would I do with an entire kingdom's worth of gold? I already have way more than I need," Matt scoffed with a shake of his head. His cheeks flushed a deeper red and he glanced to the side in embarrassment. "Nah, when I heard it was good for enchanting, I immediately thought of you. It, uh... The color reminded me of you, and I thought maybe you'd like to wear it? I was going to leave the enchantments up to you, but then I got here and learned about everything that was going on, and I, er, picked a couple for you while I was out today. To keep you safe when I and my own skills can't."

Natalie's heart melted for him all over again as her flush deepened. Fresh tears welled in her eyes, and she wryly thought that only Matt could drag her through the emotional gauntlet of crying mad and scared, to ridiculously flattered and loving in less than an hour. He'd quite literally given up the equivalent of a kingdom just to get her a gift. And he was so adorably awkward and graceless while he did it; yet even that ended with him considering her safety, health, and happiness over everything else.

Matt grunted when Natalie suddenly launched herself at him to wrap her arms around his neck and shoulders in a tight embrace. They toppled over backwards on her bed with her lying on his chest and her face pressed against his neck while he blinked in stupefied and flustered surprise at the side of her head. After a few moments, his expression melted into a bright smile, and he brought his own arms up to hold her close and let his head relax back to smile up at the canopy overhead.

"I'm glad you like it," he breathed after a few moments of them lying there. He reluctantly let Natalie go when she pulled away to beam at him, and sat up to smile back at her. His eyes fell to where she still had the necklace clasped in her hand, the chain trailing across the sheets, and he nodded to it. "May I?"

With a breathless smile, Natalie held out the necklace for him to take. Her heart raced in her chest as he slowly and carefully reached around her head to buckle the clasp behind her neck. Her skin tingled when his hands brushed her skin while he gently pulled her hair from the loop to fall down her back. Yet he didn't pull away once the gleaming pendant rested against her collar bone, and one of his hands remained distractedly brushing through her hair. His eyes had become strangely intent as he studied her face, though she didn't know what he was suddenly looking for, and she felt her heart beat even more rapidly at his proximity and the way he watched her.

And then, suddenly, Matt leaned closer still, his head tilted to the side, and pressed his lips to hers. Natalie's eyes widened in stunned amazement even as her body collapsed against his and her throat let out a quiet moan. The hand that had been brushing her hair was now pressed to the back of her head to hold her in place as Matt tenderly ran the tip of his tongue across her lower lip. Fire erupted from the touch, and Natalie's lips parted to suck in a gasp at the sensation, and her eyes shut in delight as she let him into her mouth.

Matt had long since shut his eyes, focused entirely on this intensely wonderful moment he'd sprung on the both of them. He honestly hadn't planned to kiss Natalie that evening, but she'd been so close, and her cheeks had been dusted just right with a blush, and she'd looked so dazed and intent at the same time as he'd placed the pendant around her neck... There were dozens of reasons why he should have pulled back: she was the crown princess and standing regent, her advisors were already upset at the mere rumors of her being involved with him, neither of them knew how to date, there was an assassination plot going on, she was horribly stressed, they'd just had a fight and a meltdown...

But despite all those reasons and more, his mind had shut up and let instinct take the reins. And now Natalie was pressing close enough for him to feel her racing heartbeat against his chest, quietly moaning, and her soft lips kept moving as she kissed him back, and he couldn't regret a damn thing. He'd wanted her for years, and now he had a real chance to have her, and he wasn't going to let her go; certainly not for the whims of conniving old men.

Natalie abruptly broke the kiss to reel back and suck in a great gasp of air, and he belatedly realized they both needed to breathe. For a few seconds, they both simply sat there and panted, eyes still shut, savoring the lingering heat and elation they both felt. And as soon as their eyes opened and met again, they lunged back forwards for a second kiss that was just as addictive as the first.

"Mm..." Natalie groaned in protest as Matt drew back the second time, his teeth lightly grazing her lower lip as they parted. Her eyes opened to stare up at the swordsman hovering over her, and she wondered when she'd ended up on her back. "Wow..."

Matt's lips curled in a dazed smile at her equally dazed assessment. "Wow," he agreed breathlessly.

His eyes trailed appreciatively across Natalie's face and the way her hair was fanned across her bed before languidly moving down her body in admiration. Reluctantly, he drew back and offered a hand to help her sit up where he couldn't resist stealing one last, chaste kiss. When they parted, they simply grinned at one another in elated content until Matt's smile suddenly curled a little further in cheeky mischief.

"Gosh, I do believe we've confirmed the rumors," he joked with a hand on his brow.

Natalie burst into laughter so strong she curled over to press her forehead against his shoulder. "Best start making the rafts for surviving the floods of crocodile tears," she agreed through her laughter.

Matt's smile softened into wonder as he listened to her laugh in such a carefree and joyful way. He hadn't heard that laugh in over a year, and it felt so good to hear it again. And when she pulled away to beam at him, he silently vowed to bring her as close to this happy or happier as often as he could. Of course, there were problems that would now have to be dealt with. Natalie seemed to read his concern in his eyes, because her smile faded to a smaller one, though it didn't quite leave her face.

"In all seriousness, we'll need to figure out how to present this," Natalie stated more calmly. "They're not going to be happy to hear we're courting, now."

Matt nodded regretfully and a little guiltily. "I'm sorry for the scolding you're probably going to get, but I don't regret this."

Natalie shrugged with a half-smile. "Eh, it'll be more of the same, really, and I made myself quite clear about them butting in on my private affairs. Furthermore, I, ah, may or may not have thrown your family name around when they tried berating me earlier, and reminded them that you're a noble of some of the highest birth. Not that it matters to either of us, of course, but they can't compare to that, and they know it."

"Finally, the Roszak name has a use again," Matt snorted. He couldn't resist reaching out to finger a lock of Natalie's hair, twisting it around his finger and letting it slide loose. "They'll probably make the argument that I'll be distracted from protecting you, that I won't be rational. And they might try to claim I'm just using your position and power to better my standing. That's how they think, after all."

"And you're not bettering your standing? None of this is for selfish reasons?" Natalie teased gently as she reached up to curl her fingers around his. She brought his hand up to her cheek and pressed it to her skin as she smiled at him. "I'll deal with the old farts, don't worry. You just focus on what you do best: keeping me safe and happy."

Matt smiled back and nodded. "Sounds good. Gotta keep my investment safe. I don't think I'll be getting my heart back in one piece, after all."

Natalie's cheeks flushed, even as her eyes shone. "I'll keep it safe, I promise."

And Matt knew she would. If there was anyone in the world he could trust with his health, his happiness, and his future, it was Natalie. He'd already trusted her with his life for years, and, he suspected, he'd unknowingly trusted her with his heart for years, too. There would be bumps in the road for sure, but there had always been bumps in their lives, and it hadn't stopped them yet. And this latest development in their relationship had already shown itself to be a good thing. Natalie was smiling—really smiling—like she hadn't been in far too long.

"I suppose to placate them, I'd better get that second bed up here."

Matt made a face in disappointment, but nodded. "Yeah, probably should give them something to make them think we won't just be boning every single night and producing bastards." His eyes flashed as he looked across Natalie again and he added, "Though I certainly wouldn't object to a little mischief."

Natalie had thought her cheeks couldn't get any redder that evening, but the very clear desire in Matt's gaze was enough to set off new levels of blushing. She couldn't deny wanting the same, though, but perhaps it would be wiser to wait until the latest developments had settled down before stoking the fires again. Besides, she had Matt all to herself, now, and if she'd already waited six years to sleep with him, then another few weeks would be nothing.

Oh, how she regretted that assumption. Knowing Matt was hers now, but being unable to have sex with him was a new level of torture. Every time he brushed against her, every time he held her hand, every time he kissed her, she wanted so much more. Still, it was the wise decision. Her advisors, once they'd found out, had been predictably upset with her, and by extension, Matt. They'd presented a half dozen different reasons why an affair now was a terrible idea and a horrible distraction, but, ultimately, they'd been forced to swallow their complaints. Matt had seen to that.

"If you think lords of your standing can stop me from courting this lovely woman, then you'd best ready your swords for duels," he'd flatly stated in a serious voice when they'd tried appealing to him. His eyes had been cold and unamused as they then tried to encourage him to reconsider, or at least postpone, and his voice had had a hint of mocking disgust as he'd said, "And here we thought you'd be pleased that your princess has chosen a noble worthy of her high standing. Certainly a high noble of a distinguished line such as myself is an acceptable match to be a potential consort to a crown royal."

Even Natalie's eyes had minutely widened at that. Matt had, effectively, stated that if Natalie asked, he would marry her. The thought was flattering, amazing, and horrifying all at once. As much as she loved him, she'd never once considered marriage for herself in the future—not even to him. On some level, during their years of adventuring together, she'd always figured that even if he had confessed to her, she would never be able to marry him because of the vast difference in their social classes: a marriage to a ruffian fighter would never have been approved. Even after learning the truth of Matt's family and lineage, she'd never considered marrying him—either because she'd so firmly put the thought from her mind, or because she simply hadn't had the time to consider how he could potentially fit into her life in the future. But, clearly, Matt had considered it.

Later that evening, she'd tentatively brought up his words, and Matt smiled awkwardly.

"It was more to shut them up than anything else," he admitted as he peeled his shirt off to flop on his new bed. He rolled his head to the side to smile at her, a flush on his cheeks, and added, "I mean, I'm serious about this, but I think three weeks is a little soon to plan for a wedding, and I'd rather take this easy, if it's all the same to you. Besides, you've got enough on your plate already without a ceremony to freak out over."

Natalie felt her shoulders relax at his words. "Oh, good, because I was worried I'd offend you if I said I don't want to get married yet."

Matt shrugged and pulled his quilt up to his chin. "Marriage is cool and all, but I don't need a document and a priest to tell me you're mine and I'm yours, and we've already basically thrown the other traditional stuff out the window. I hope, anyway, because I sure as hell have not made any plans on waiting until marriage to have you."

"Well, when you say it like that, it does seem a little overrated," Natalie chuckled with a distinctly pleased smile at the thought that he was hers. She lay down on her own bed and mumbled, "And I would hardly be the first heir to sleep with his or her boyfriend or girlfriend before taking the vows. I heard mom and dad both did it, too."

"See? No issue. G'night, Natz."

OOOOOO

Matt pushed the pain aside and focused on the feeling that someone was in Natalie's room. He didn't see how they had gotten in: the protective barrier had remained up across the balcony door and broad windows—none of which were open—and the guards outside the door hadn't changed shifts, yet. But his senses, carefully honed over years of fighting monsters to detect the slightest changes in mana, told him there was definitely someone hidden in here.

Luckily, Natalie was still hosting the dinner celebrating a successful harvest, so he didn't have to worry about protecting her from the threat. Unluckily, Natalie was still hosting the dinner celebrating a successful harvest, and he would have really appreciated her aid with the clotted slash gluing his shirt to his side before he fought another assassin.

Icy eyes cautiously scanned the dim interior before pausing on a suspicious lump under a blanket on the day bed. Matt's fingers tightened on his sword as he silently moved in on his target. A few seconds passed in tense silence before he used a pulse of wind to remove the blanket and lunged to attack the unsuspecting person.

Only pillows rested under the blanket, skewered by his sword. Matt froze at the revealed diversion, and whipped around to see calm and amused eyes watching him from behind the door.

"I could have killed you," Matt snapped, adrenalin washing out of his body as the looming threat vanished.

"Which is why I put pillows there and not myself," Anna chuckled as she stepped out of the shadows. "I'm glad it's you that came looking, and not someone else."

Matt sheathed his sword with a final glance at the mutilated stack of pillows. His gaze returned to Anna as the ranger moved to sit on the edge of the low table—forgoing the plush chair not three feet away. "How did you even get in here without Natalie getting receiving a message? For that matter, what are you even doing here?"

Anna's eyes darkened and her smile fell away into upmost seriousness. "Lance has been captured. I need help rescuing him."

"What? Where? How? By who?"

"The Treails. They caught on to us following their smugglers, and laid an ambush on the cliffs west of Goldenbrick," Anna replied bitterly. Her shoulders slumped miserably as she let her gaze drift to the side in shame. "We were out-positioned and outnumbered, and they cut us off from running. Lance... He pushed me off into the river to get me away, but he didn't jump after me. By the time I got back up to the site, they were gone, and by the tracks, they were dragging a body."

Matt's frown deepened, and he lowered himself to sit on the day bed beside the ruined pillows. His side twinged in reminder of his wound, that had probably been reopened in his lunge, but he ignored it in the face of one of his friends and teammates being kidnapped. "He's probably still alive. They wouldn't drag a corpse with them, after all..."

Lance would need saving, that was non-negotiable, but Natalie still needed protecting, also a non-negotiable. The assassins were back out of hiding, and already making attempts on her life. Ideally, he would leave Anna here to guard Natalie in his place while he went to rescue Lance, but there were several problems with that. One, Lance was hardly a pushover, yet he had been overpowered and restrained; that meant his captors were powerful and dangerous, so one person going to rescue him alone would be foolhardy. Two, the council of advisors would hardly agree to trading a pure blooded Roszak for a commoner archer from a remote village in the woods, no matter how skilled she was. They would fight bitterly over Anna guarding Natalie during such a potential crisis, and Anna would have no sway with them. Blood, lineage, and wealth meant everything to the people here—none of which Anna had. Natalie could perhaps overrule their arguments, but she was already in a tenuous position because of her involvement with Matt, and because of her recent projects benefiting the people at the cost of gold not going to the rich.

"That's what I figure," Anna agreed, unaware of Matt's thoughts. She took in a deep breath to add that she suspected she might know where to find Lance, but paused and stiffened. "I smell blood."

Matt, lost in thought and only partially listening, waved a dismissive hand—his left hand, Anna noted suspiciously. Her eyes scanned his right side before falling on a patch of shirt far darker in color than the rest.

"You're hurt," she stated accusingly as she stood up to inspect the wound. Matt didn't fight her pulling his shirt up, though he did hiss at the way the fabric pulled away from the wound—a rather long slash just below his ribs. "What happened?"

"Assassins are after Natalie," Matt grunted as Anna ripped part of his already ruined shirt off to begin wiping away the blood to better see the wound. "I'm her guard, and I guess they figured it would be easier if they got rid of me first."

"That explains why you're in the castle, attacking harmless pillows," Anna noted lightly, though an undercurrent of concern colored her voice. She pressed her hand firmly against the now sluggishly oozing wound and summoned up her healing magic. "There, that should do it. It wasn't such a bad cut—didn't hit anything important, anyway." She sat back on her heels and watched while Matt began changing into a clean shirt. "I didn't realize there was an assassination plot going on. That explains the extra guards outside, and why they wouldn't let me in. And why Natalie's room is under such heavy guard."

"How did you get in here, anyway?" Matt asked, muffled by the shirt he was pulling over his head. He shook his hair loose from the neckline once his head was through and added mildly, "I mean, the place is on a pretty tight lockdown."

"I live for getting into places unseen," Anna joked with a grin. She shook her head with a laugh and added, "But seriously, once the guards turned me away from the gate, I just scaled the wall and climbed in through the window. Natz must've set the barrier to let us through, or it just isn't strong enough to keep people with high enough mana out."

"Just scaled the wall," Matt repeated in a sarcastic mutter. "It's only several hundred feet and guarded by constant patrols and wards. No biggie."

Anna's smile grew a little wider. "Anyway, where's Natz now?"

"Dinner. Mandatory celebration for the harvests being brought in. Dunno why it's mandatory, but there you have it. Natz was spouting something about keeping people fat and happy, so maybe nobility just like a good feast."

"Like you don't like a good feast?" Anna chuckled. "For that matter what are you doing fighting assassins in the halls when there's a feast going on? I mean, you can't be not invited. You're a Roszak, after all."

Matt's expression soured. "I was there for the start of it, but certain... circumstances... required me leaving."

He didn't want to get into the snide remarks being thrown his way that Natalie had to smile through with gritted teeth. He turned away from Anna's searching stare, and headed for the door. "C'mon. Natz needs to hear about Lance, and about the latest hit."

The guards outside the room did a double take at the woman following behind Matt, but a silent gesture of assurance from the swordsman had them standing down. The journey to the dinning hall was swift and silent, and at Matt's command, Anna waited just outside the cracked door while he went in to retrieve Natalie. She watched through the crack as Matt wove his way through the crowd with a few polite nods and exchanges, though she couldn't miss the sneers also sent his way. Natalie was engrossed in conversation with the man beside her at the head of the long table, and Anna noted how elegant the mage looked, dressed up in a gown sewn with gemstones, and her hair piled in a complicated knot on her head above her glittering tiara. Still, her demure smile rang false with the ranger, and not for the first time, Anna felt a pang of sympathy for her friend at having to be stuck here placating a kingdom of subjects who knew next to nothing about her, nor cared to learn.

Then Matt was intervening in the conversation, apparently having found a point less rude to do so, and he bent down to whisper in Natalie's ear. Anna watched Natalie's eyes narrow ever so slightly before she stood up and excused herself for a few moments, but not before calling for the fine wine and desserts to be brought out. The crowd parted before her as she made her way to the door with Matt trailing along behind her, though curious gazes followed them all the way until the door was shut.

"Anna?" Natalie greeted with a baffled smile and a tight hug. "What brings you all the way up here?"

Anna returned the embrace tightly, and idly noted the rich scent of vanilla surrounding the mage, though it was tainted by the unfamiliar acrid stench that seemed to hang about the castle. "I wish it was just to visit, but I need to borrow Matt to save Lance's sorry butt," she replied with a tight smile as she stood back.

"He and Anna were ambushed while stalking those smugglers linked to the Treails, and he couldn't get away," Matt explained when Natalie shot him a shocked glance. "I doubt he's dead, but I also doubt he'll be in very good condition. Smugglers aren't exactly known for their kindness to prisoners."

"Well what the hell are you both doing here? Go save him!" Natalie instantly urged.

"There's more," Anna interrupted with a shake of her head and a glance at Matt. "I heard about the assassins. Matt just had a run in with one."

Natalie's eyes widened and she whipped around to scan Matt for injury, and noticed for the first time that he'd changed out of the stuffy shirt he'd begrudgingly agreed to wear that evening.

"It wasn't a very serious injury, and I already healed it," Anna assured calmly, "but I can't see him leaving you here alone, unprotected."

OOOOOO

A flash of red in a cell on his left had Matt skidding to a halt and backing up three steps. "Lance," Matt breathed worriedly as he took in the crumpled figure shackled to the wall of the dingy and filthy cell.

The gunner was in terrible condition, his pale skin covered in old and fresh wounds, and streaked with grime and blood; several of the cuts looked infected. His arms were held above his head by rusted chains, and his ankles had been chained together with only enough links to allow a slow, clumsy hobble. The only clothing left to him were the tattered remains of his pants. The cold air and stone had left him shuddering, and someone had cruelly left a bowl of weak soup sitting just out of range of his feet—as though his chained arms had afforded him any way to eat it even if it had been closer.

"Lance," Matt called more loudly as he began trying the keys on the ring he'd stolen in the lock on the door.

The call roused Lance, and tired eyes opened and rose to meet the swordsman's worried gaze. A ghost of a smirk flickered across Lance's features, and he leaned his head against one of his arms as though his neck just didn't have the strength to hold it upright.

"...I knew you'd come," he rasped hoarsely as he watched Matt fumble with the keys. The speech aggravated his throat and he coughed a few times against the persistent burning sensation in his lungs before finishing, "Must mean Anna made it, huh? That's good..."

Matt finally got the cell opened and darted to his friend's side. Lance's condition looked far worse up close, his face glistening with sweat even though he shuddered, his eyes were glazed with fever, and every breath he took wheezed in his chest. "Shit, you're in really bad shape," Matt cursed under his breath as he undid the shackles holding the gunner's wrists and ankles.

With no bindings holding him upright, Lance slumped against Matt as soon as he was loose, and Matt fumbled with his adventure pouch to withdraw a warm jacket to tuck around his friend's shoulders. Next came a canteen which he held steady against cracked lips as Lance gratefully drank the cool water. He didn't voice his concern of how much heat Lance was giving off, or at the faint whine the gunner let out once he'd drained the entire canteen.

"C'mon, let's get you someplace more comfortable," Matt murmured as he stood up, hoisting Lance with him by an arm around his shoulders.

"Sure," Lance mumbled distantly, focused more on keeping his vision clear and the water he'd just drunk in his stomach.

Every step was an exhausting trial, and he leaned almost entirely on Matt as they slowly made their way out of the cell and down the barred hall. Shadows writhed with mocking faces that caused him to shrink closer to Matt, even as some part of his brain informed him that it was just his fever messing with his mind. Throughout it all, Matt remained a firm and constant pillar of strength against his side, supporting his weary frame, and confidently crushing every shadow under his feet. The last thought he had was that his best friend was really warm, which was a nice change from cold, damp stone.

"Shit," Matt cursed, catching Lance when the gunner suddenly became a complete dead weight as he passed out. He quickly maneuvered Lance around to lift him in his arms, head resting on his shoulder, and trotted out of the dungeons.

Anna was waiting for him exactly where he'd left her, arrow and cold gaze directed at the captured garrison and smugglers. Still, she glanced around and sucked in a silent gasp at the condition Lance was in.

"Is he...?" she asked through a swallow.

"He's alive, and he'll recover," Matt assured her with a tense smile. "He's way too stubborn a bastard to let this stop him." His eyes shifted to the men kneeling before them. "As acting Lord, I'm taking control of this estate and all of its assets until such a time that the royal family decides what to do with all of you. You will wait out that time in the dungeons. I highly suggest you go peacefully, because I'm in a very, very bad mood."

Even Anna flinched at the bite to Matt's voice. If there was one thing to know about him, it was that he was fiercely defensive of his friends and team, and he now had one of those friends beaten and unconscious in his arms with a high fever. Wisely, the prisoners followed without complaint as she brought them downstairs and locked them into individual cells. The bars would likely be enough to hold them, and she and Matt had already disarmed them, but just in case, she added her own wards to the locks. She didn't believe for one instant that none of the smugglers didn't have lock picks stashed on them somewhere.

As soon as they were secured, she hurried to find where Matt had taken Lance. A nervous maid led her up to the second floor and she found Matt leaning over Lance. He and a second maid were cleaning and bandaging the many wounds, and she swallowed at how battered Lance was.

"How is he?" she asked softly as she moved to take over from the maid.

"Malnourished, dehydrated, running a high fever from, I assume, these infected wounds, and he's having trouble breathing," Matt reported tersely as he wound a strip of bandage around a very deliberate gash on Lance's arm. "I think, based on some of these, they were interrogating him."

Anna tried to hide the shaking in her hands as she touched the back of her hand to Lance's cheek. As Matt had said, his temperature was far higher than normal, and his expression was tense as though he were in pain, even while unconscious. "Has he said anything?"

"He was awake and leaning on me when I brought him out of the cell, but he passed out before we left the dungeon. He slurred a little when he spoke, but seemed lucid enough." He didn't mention the way Lance had been shackled with food tortuously kept just out of reach, or the way the gunner had flinched at the shadows.

"Bastards," Anna growled with tears in her eyes. "He was only here for a couple weeks, and they did this to him."

Her eyes shut and she pressed her hands to Lance's chest as she summoned up her healing magic. There was nothing she could do for the fever or infection, but she could heal some of the bruises, cuts, and fractures. Lance seemed to relax in place as he was healed, and he let out an unconscious sigh of relief, but didn't wake up.

Anna let out a sigh of her own and sat on the bed once she'd finished, curling her hand around his. "Don't worry, we'll get you back on your feet as quick as we can," she assured him with a shaky smile.

Behind her, Matt was quietly thanking the maids for their help, and directing them to prepare a broth to feed Lance and the prisoners. His voice was hard as he warned them against freeing any of the prisoners for any reason, and that if there was a problem, then he would personally handle it. They couldn't tell if he meant handle them or the prisoners, but they nodded regardless.

After the two women were gone, he turned back to where Anna was smoothing a hand through Lance's hair. "I need to write to Natz about this mess. Will you be alright by yourself for a little while?"

Anna nodded silently, and listened to the door shut before letting her shoulders slump and the tears in her eyes run down her cheeks. "You idiot," she choked out at Lance with no real heat to the insult, and her touch was still gentle. "I don't need you being a hero for me, and especially not if... if this is what happens to you. Next time, we fight together, no heroic sacrifices, jerk. I can take care of myself without you throwing yourself under the ax."

Even as she said that, she wondered if maybe the fact that Lance had pushed her out of harm's way had been his way of saying she wasn't a help, but a hindrance to him. Saving her from trouble had never seemed to be a priority to him before, after all. Yet all she could see in her mind's eye was the sight of Lance stepping in front of her protectively as they were cornered, and she hated that he'd saved her and not himself, too. She wondered if he would have done the same if he'd known what shape he'd end up in.

Lance slept on, leaving Anna to stew in miserable silence with only uneven, raspy breaths to fill the void.

OOOOOO

Confusing images swam in and out of Lance's focus as a fire seemed to sear him from within. None of what he saw made sense, and he couldn't tell if he was awake or dreaming. Once, he thought he'd seen Matt's worried smile as he was fed something warm and bitter before it had morphed into Anna's tearful scowl. The ranger's mouth had opened to give him what he assumed was some sort of lecture, but all he heard was NoLegs meowing at him. Sometimes, he was abandoned to the mercy of rough hands and shadowy figures that reached to hurt him, and he cried for help. Sometimes, he was even answered.

The worst images of all were when he realized he'd failed, and Anna was hurt after all, even though he was sure he'd gotten her out of the way in time. And where were Matt and Natalie? Why weren't they helping? Hadn't they forgiven him? Surely they wouldn't leave him here to burn alive at the hands of horrible people. Anna certainly didn't deserve that fate. Yet he could hear her, and he hurt all over, all the time, and it never seemed to end. The soft whispers weren't enough when he choked on the fire and his pain, and he needed more of the cool touch that brushed his face and neck.

It seemed like a band wound tighter and tighter around his chest before suddenly snapping, and with the break came a blessed cool. He could have cried at the abrupt loss of the fire. Someone was there, massaging his head, and he leaned into the touch as exhaustion like he'd never felt before had him sinking into blissful oblivion.

OOOOOO

It had been two days since Lance's fever had broken, and Matt still couldn't get Anna to get some real rest in a real bed. The ranger refused to budge from the chair at Lance's bedside, insisting that she was fine even as the shadows under her eyes grew darker. He half-believed that she hadn't slept since the gunner's fever had first begun climbing a week ago, so it was a surprise when he came in one morning to see her slumped over in the chair with her head resting on one arm and her other hand curled around Lance's. Matt gave a faint smile at the sight and adjusted the throw blanket that had fallen around her hips back up around her shoulders before moving to check on Lance.

Lance was peacefully sleeping, his chest rising and falling evenly with each breath, finally no longer rasping and wheezing, or tossing and moaning. Still, Matt measured out a dose of medicine and carefully lifted the gunner's head to feed it to him. Halfway through the process, Lance let out a near-inaudible groan, and his eyes fluttered open. Matt's face broke into a brilliant smile and he pulled the medicine away.

"Hey, how're you feeling?" he asked softly, drawing Lance's sleepy gaze to him.

Lance seemed to have to think about that, thoughts churning sluggishly before he made a face. "Sticky. Gross. Like I should be sleeping for another ten years." His lips twitched upwards at the soft laugh Matt let out, and he let out a yawn before waking up a little further and eyeing his friend. "So you really did come. I wasn't imagining that."

"I'd never leave a friend in an enemy's cell," Matt swore. His eyes were studying Lance's face critically. "You look like you're feeling a lot better. Not saying much with how you were, of course, but it's something."

"I don't feel like Natalie set me on fire anymore, no," Lance agreed with a faint smile. His expression fell some as he suddenly realized how weird it was that Matt was here. "Wait, is Natz here, too?" And as soon as he asked that, he remembered something important. His memory was fuzzy, but hadn't Anna been in trouble, too? "Where's Anna?!"

"Calm down," Matt chided, pressing a hand to Lance's shoulder to keep him lying down when he began shifting to try and sit up. He smiled and nodded across Lance's body as he added, "Anna's on your other side, asleep. She hasn't moved in days. As for Natz, she's still back at the castle. She wanted to come out here, of course, but that isn't possible right now."

Lance was barely listening as he rolled his head to the other side to see that Anna was, in fact, safe and sound, and asleep. He realized he must be more out of it than he'd thought to have not noticed that the ranger was right there, and holding his hand. His eyes scanned her face for a few moments before deciding that she was indeed fine, and a great pressure lifted off his chest. Matt broke him out of his thoughts a few seconds later.

"So, Anna told me how you got her away. Why didn't you follow after her?"

"A few reasons," Lance replied with a slight shrug. "One, I was a distraction to keep them from following her. Two, I, uh..."

Matt frowned when Lance trailed off with a sheepish, almost embarrassed expression. "What?"

"I- This is really stupid, but, er, I can't... I can't swim," Lance admitted awkwardly. "I would have drowned if I'd gone into the river."

Mat sat back with a huff of surprise, wracking his brain as he tried to think of if Lance had ever been in water above his chest. The only instance he could think of had been back on the Rocky Beach when a squid had pulled him off the dock, but Natalie had fished the gunner out swiftly, and his shoulder had been dislocated—hardly a telling moment for swimming. Beyond that, Lance had always stayed in wading depth, citing his weapons clogging in the water and hating having to clean them, and none of them had ever challenged it.

"I had no idea," Matt finally admitted quietly. "Remind me to teach you sometime soon, when we have an opportunity." Even as he said that, he didn't doubt that Lance would refuse to bring it up again out of a sense of misguided pride—the man hated admitting to being bad at something.

And sure enough, Lance made a noncommittal sort of grunt before scooting up the bed to boost himself up into sitting, and ignoring Matt's disapproving cluck. He blinked dazedly as the room spun from the resulting head-rush before settling into place. A soft noise had both him and Matt glancing at Anna as her face tightened before her eyes fluttered open. Lance held her gaze as she blinked at him for a moment before she jerked upright.

"Lance! You're awake!" Anna gasped with a delighted smile.

OOOOOO

"He's missing! Again!"

Matt heaved a sigh and leaned his cheek on one hand as he turned another page. He didn't look up at the aggravated woman pacing the rug in front of the desk. "Anna, he's a grown man, a capable warrior, and we're in safe territory right now. He'll be fine," he told her in a tired voice for what felt like the thousandth time. He silently mouthed her next words to himself as his eyes scanned the next few lines of the papers he was reading, having heard her rant so many times he could repeat her words, her tone, and the motions that went with them.

Anna didn't seem to notice his lips moving as she threw her arms in the air. "He's recovering from torture and malnourishment! He isn't supposed to be walking about, yet! And on top of that, he-"

Matt tuned her out as he focused in on a few interesting lines of acquired gold from a "Source X." There were few things he hated more than sitting still, and tracing intel back through written source combined two of his least favorite activities: sitting still, and researching. But Natalie needed solid evidence to justify his abrupt takeover of a Treail manor, which meant he needed a solid link between the noble and the smugglers.

And Anna, he noted with no small amount of disgruntlement, was getting louder in her tirade. Lance was fine, he was sure, and certainly didn't need a babysitter following him around and keeping him tucked into a bed like some kind of invalid. In fact, he wouldn't be the least bit surprised if it was Anna's constant coddling that was driving the gunner to sneak out onto the grounds—Lance would do it just to irritate her, and never mind proving a point.

"Anna," Matt interrupted flatly, cutting into her rant about how it wouldn't kill Lance to let her know where he was going. He finally brought his eyes up to meet Anna's anxious green ones and arched a brow. "Lance is twenty-four, a dangerous gunman, an adept swordsman, and an accomplished mage. He has nearly a decade of combat and field experience, and the most brilliant mind I've ever known. On top of that, he's well over his illness, stayed in bed for over a week of rest and recovery, and you personally warded the grounds. He's not dumb enough to go waltzing off on his own, yet, and while he is still a little underweight, he isn't about to keel over from lack of nourishment. What the hell do you think is going to happen to him?"

Anna scowled at Matt's logical and reasonable words. She threw herself down on the chair across from the desk and glared at her lap. But when Matt merely began looking over yet more papers, leaving her to stew in silence, she felt her anger begin to melt away leaving only anxiety and shame behind. Realistically, she knew Matt was right: Lance wasn't in such bad shape now that he needed to stay in bed. But still...

"I just... I need to know he's alright," Anna mumbled. "He got really hurt, and it wouldn't have happened if I had been strong enough to help him before."

Matt blinked twice before bringing his eyes back up to gape at Anna in astonishment. "Hey, what happened to him wasn't your fault," he refuted firmly.

Anna shook her head with a miserable expression. "Maybe I wasn't the one to chain him up and torture him, but I didn't keep him from it, either. And he knew I wasn't enough, which is why he threw me off the cliff and into the river."

"Anna, there were thirty of them in an ambush. What do you think would have happened if he hadn't saved you? Treail certainly wasn't going to send me a card saying he'd captured you both. Natalie and I might never have known what had happened for months longer—during which time one or both of you could have been killed."

"He wouldn't have shoved you off to save you," Anna muttered bitterly. "What's thirty men to a Roszak, after all?"

Matt ignored the jibe at his family name, knowing Anna was just hurting and lashing out. "No, he wouldn't have shoved me away, or even could if he tried it," he conceded evenly. He watched Anna snort before continuing mildly, "But that doesn't mean he wouldn't want to. Lance will deny it to his dying breath if you ever asked him to his face, but he doesn't like seeing us get hurt; he would push all of us away if it meant saving us, me included. And maybe yes, in this case, he wouldn't have pushed me away. I can, have, and likely will someday again, take on thirty people and come out better for it. I'm much more suited for the close combat that would have come from a mass ambush than you. And, frankly, Lance isn't strong enough to physically push me away, even if he tried to."

Tears began to burn in Anna's eyes as Matt seemed to confirm her worst fears that she was just too weak to help Lance. Maybe it would be best if she just stayed away from the gunner if all she was to him was a dead weight.

"Great pep talk," Anna mumbled sarcastically as she stood up again.

Matt shook his head doggedly, "Anna, my point is that it was a bad situation where you both should have had back up, but you didn't. Lance isn't nearly as skilled in close combat as myself, and neither are you. And realistically, they likely had a mix of close and ranged attackers, so even I would have had trouble. Lance's solution wasn't ideal, but it was probably the best one you guys had. He got you out to get help, which you did in an admirably swift fashion."

"But it wasn't enough!" Anna shouted. "He didn't save himself, and I didn't get back fast enough to save him! And now I can't stop worrying that he's being hurt, and he won't take me seriously because I'm too weak to be worth his time!"

Matt opened his mouth to keep arguing his point, but shut it again without saying anything, and stood up. He stepped around the desk to hold the door to the study open and waved Anna through. "C'mon, I can tell you need to hear this from him, not me. Let's go track the bastard down so he can logic you out of this stupid loop you're caught in."

Anna balked in the doorway and vehemently shook his head. "No. He doesn't need to see me—he made that clear."

"Anna, you can't expect to just cut yourself off from him. He'll figure you out in less than a week, and he'll get upset that you don't want to talk to him," Matt chided through a sigh.

"You have that backwards: he doesn't want to talk to me."

"I suspect he wouldn't mind you talking to him if you'd quit treating him like an invalid," Matt countered drolly as he stepped past her to lead the way. "He hates sitting still nearly as much as the rest of us, and I'm sure you can sympathize with the former prisoner about being shut up in one room with a warden monitoring him."

He didn't see the way Anna's eyes flickered with upset as she reluctantly fell into step behind him, nor did he suspect anything when she volunteered to split up to cover ground more quickly. It took almost three hours to find Lance, and Matt was understandably irritable at the waste of time—especially when he found out the gunner had only gone out onto the balcony of his room, and was napping against the wall just out of sight of the door.

"What's up?" Lance asked tiredly, blinking lazily up at where Matt was standing with his arms crossed and a scowl in his face.

"What's up is I'm sick of having to spend hours finding you because Anna comes to me in a tizzy that you've wandered off again. Would it kill you to leave her a note?" Matt bit out. "I've got a lot of paperwork to look through before I can go back to the castle, and I'd appreciate it if you'd quit making more work for me."

Lance arched a brow before turning his head to lean back against the wall again and look out across the idyllic grounds of the manor. "Anna worries too much, you know that. Just tell her I'm fine and she doesn't need to worry."

Matt rubbed a hand over his face ending at pinching the bridge of his nose in an effort to alleviate the forming headache. "You think I haven't tried that? The woman has a guilty streak a mile long and is completely immune to my reasoning. And you, mister-can't-leave-a-note, are making her guilt trip worse. You know she's blaming herself for what happened to you?"

Lance started and turned to look back at Matt in surprise. "She's, what? What the hell for?"

"She thinks she should have fought with you so you could both end up in prison cells, and the fact that you didn't let her meant she was too weak to help. Hell if I know how she reached that conclusion," Matt snorted sarcastically.

Lance's face fell. That certainly hadn't been his intention by getting out of bed every day. He'd been trying to show Anna that he was going to be just fine and that she didn't need to worry, not that he thought she was useless.

A/N: A lot of you seem to like this one/have asked for more of it. So, here you are, another several thousand words continuing Heiress. It's the usual mess of portions of the plot with missing connectors, but hopefully enough to satisfy you.

Replies to guest reviews:

Anonymous: If i manage to think of more to add, it will be vomited up here, you can be sure. xD Hope you've been enjoying EBF5 as much as I have!

Miles or Arrow: Be spoiled again! I hope. It's the least I can do, given how egregiously I'm ignoring SotB and TLRH. :P

As for the last chapter, I have ideas for scenes, but not really for a plot. So there will probably be additions to the fic, but no completion. :P

Dove: I feel like it's been quite awhile since I've seen you. Glad to see you're still reading and enjoying!

Yes, I've been enjoying poaying around with the modern AU where magic used to be a thing, but isn't any longer. It leads to a lot of intersting scenarios and ideas. Now if only i could figure out a worthy plot to tie it all together...

And, yes, Matt is very knowledgeable, and understands more about their (humanity's) history, achievements, and progress than all the books and historians combined. Perks of being long lived, and having lived those times. But there are draw backs to that. He doesnt actually have a good grasp on how MUCH time has passed. He thinks it's been seven hundred years, but it's actually been much, much longer, which is why nobody has any real records of the emagical aspects of the world. Current headcannon is after he sealed the magic, there was a massive book burning panic event of a sort, so most records, schools, tools, etc. were destroyed. The fun part is that Matt presented Lance's technology and advances as the new way to adapt and cope with the world after the loss of magic's convenience. Lance will, of course, lord that over him. xD

Like in the games, Anna has practical knowledge more so than booksmarts. She isn't dumb, but she finds it hard to concentrate on things that she can't perceive the practical use of. That makes pretty much all higher sciences, Maths, and historys unimportant to her. She'll rember it if it's useful, but not before then. She's the one you want with you in a end-of-the-world scenario, because she can actually apply and do all the shit required. Definitely not cut out for a desk job, though.

Hmm, jealous Lance, and a childhood friend of Anna's with an unrequited interest in her... I like it! It shall be so! XD

Jason: Yes, cat's have legs in the future. As for why, current plan is godcat returned them, or they were restored naturally when Matt sealed the mana (idea being that it was a very long lasting spell/curse that can no longer stand without magic ti sustain it).

Sounds oretty similar to my Foxhare. I think people just like small, intelligent, fuzzy critters with big ears. XD

You're welcome to take those ideas and use them for your stories, but Gaea will remain as it is. They're cool ideas, after all. And who knows, maybe they'll show up in future stuff that I write?

Guest: I've recently had the urge to write an over the top, getting revenge, flirtatious Anna. Maybe as an aside or companion to Heiress?