This was a long one, I apologize for two things: I didn't re-read this and I also apologize if this chapter's content is offensive so forgive me in advance. Also I have a disclaimer: The poem you will read later on isn't written by me but Queen Elizabeth I. If you want anymore information you can use my E-mail address on my user page.

Chapter 8:

Zidane awoke the fresh sound of spring. He could smell the sweet sent of the blue flowers that had begun their ascent up the castle walls on their ladder of bright green vine. He stretched out in the overly cushy bed he had been placed in only a day before. His body still felt weak and his skin had a lose grungy feel to it most likely from the fever he had acquired during the night. Though he could say he felt a little more rejuvenated than he did earlier.

The bandit lay in bed for a while thinking of yesterday's events and what could possibly happen next. Though his mind was waving the white flag of defeat his heart was still pounding out a hopeful S.O.S. After all it was amazing that he was thrown such a wonderful opportunity by Leopold, it seemed strange to him that he would be allowed to live in the castle during his recovery when Paulus had gone through great lengths to keep him from Garnet. He figured the old man felt all was safe since Garnet was now bound by marriage to Leopold and with such an honest and admirable personality he was certain that Garnet would keep to her vows. Shaking the whole inner conversation from his head, Zidane flapped the sheets over his legs and grabbed a towel that sat on one of the chairs in his room. If he couldn't figure things out in bed, he thought, he might have better luck in a bath.

Walking down the corridor to the bath he noticed Paulus and Leopold talking quietly to one another. Zidane hadn't formed the best opinion of Leopold since he married Garnet, but watching him talk to his father seemed to magnify how gentle the man was. It was a complete wonder to him how the new king was created from a monster such as Paulus but there was an element to the old man, as he handed politely offered a glass of wine to his son, that showed how two faced he really could be. One mask he wore was a kindly old man and another was evil and sadistic beyond comprehension. Maybe that same poisonous blood ran through Leopold's veins as well.

Garnet sat at her vanity and combed out her brunette hair, the noted the unusual calmness of the morning despite the terrible ache in her bones and in her heart. Zidane was two rooms away yet unattainable, completely unattainable. At any point in her day she could drop what she was doing and slide into bed with him if it weren't for the invisible force field that she was shrouded in. While she wanted to love Zidane with all her heart there was a still a room that was built in her long before him saved specifically for her kingdom. It wasn't born in her but adopted in her making her the queen that Alexandria loved and respected. If she were to cheat on her King with Zidane she might as well have surrendered her crown all together. Her fingers chased after her brush as she combed through her hair delicately untangling the knots that sleeping had created and though she was trying her hardest not to hurt herself something was magnifying the gentle tugs into sharp tears. She was beginning to think that the pain she felt internally was making its way to the outside.

Leopold entered the room silently but not so silent that Garnet didn't see him come in. He closed the door gently and leaned back on it with his head, his black hair covering his eyes.

"Leopold, is something wrong?" Garnet asked sweetly.

Leopold said nothing in response in stead all that was heard was the slight click of a key locking the door. Garnet shifted nervously in her chair trying to keep her composure, she stood up slowly and placed her brush on the vanity.

"Leopold, why does the door need to be locked? Is everything okay?" She asked again and once more there was no answer. Leopold pocketed his keys and looked up blankly at his new bride. Her eyes were wide pools of sienna, her face was marked with an innocent mask of concern. His gaze traveled over her body like fingers over a valuable treasure, her porcelain skin peaking from out of her equally as white dress. Leopold swiftly pushed her body up against the wall, his hands pinning her arms to the wall. Garnet started to shriek and struggle against his weight pressing down on her but it was the first time in her life she noticed how small she really was compared to man.

She twisted her body back and forth and side to side attempting to slide from the man's grasp but Leopold's hands only tightened around her arms with bruising force causing her to scream out as loud as she could but the dark haired man covered her mouth with his own choking her with his unwelcome tongue. Garnet bit down on whatever she could find causing Leopold to real back in pain almost hissing like an angry cat. She wiggled out of his grasp and began to run for the door but he caught her by the back of her dress popping the buttons that held it together. He spun her around and pushed her onto the bed sliding his greedy hands up her thighs tearing away fabric from her outer dress and her petty coats underneath.

"Zidane!" The queen screamed, her voice hoarse with terror, "Someone please! Anyone!" Her body trembled as Leopold's hands shuffled over her skin, his ragged foul breath gusting over her breasts. Garnet shrieked some more but her screams morphed into sobs which then phased into an eerie sullen silence. Her mind was blank for the most part, she could feel Leopold's hands still finding their way through her skirts but the fear that was in her seemed to fade away with a feeling couldn't put words to. She wasn't angry, sad, or even happy, she just was. It felt as if her emotions flew outside of her body and were swirling around above her, eliminating all sound and thought, the only thing she knew was the pain in her bones and the whispering in her ears. She wondered if the voice inside her was Leopold whispering something to her but the voice didn't sound like anything she ever heard.

Leopold's hands finally stopped searching, he had found what he was looking for, his thick fingers slipped under the elastic of her underwear, Garnet's breath ceased, "I don't want this" she thought he pulled it downward undressing her. Her heartbeat started to stop too, "I'm sorry if I did anything to deserve this", he slid the underwear down her thighs, "Zidane, I'm sorry. I'm sorry!". Suddenly the voices that had been whispering in Garnet's head began to scream out with a powerful rage. So powerful she could feel a burning rise up from her heart releasing its unearthly noise from her own mouth so powerful it felt like the glowing fires of the sun were being contained within her body. Leopold fell onto his backside his hands bracing him from behind.

Then in silence and with an eerie appearance of grace, Garnet stood up from the bed, her body radiating with the white glow of trance, but her eyes were vacant and uncaring. She lifted her right hand raising Leopold from the ground and with a flick of her wrist she sent him flying across the room with bone shattering force. The dark haired man didn't even flinch when he hit the ground, lifeless.

Zidane's heart raced in fear, he had heard Garnet's blood curdling from the baths almost a whole building away, he got dressed and ran as fast as he could to get to her. His hair was still wet from the bath he had leaped out of. He slammed on Garnet's bedroom door but upon hearing no response he knocked it down with his own pure adrenaline rush, his eyes widening with the sight of her. Garnet stood in the center of her room, papers and furniture flew around her, knocked and shaken by what appeared to be nothing.

"Dagger…" Zidane whispered falling to his knees, "What's happening to you?"

The queen looked at him calmly but with no real emotion backing her gaze, she just floated in her own aura, her hair fluttering around her like an angel's, yet her presence seemed more like a ghost's. Zidane's heart sank as he looked at her clothing, he didn't have to be any scholar to know what had triggered the girl's trance. She turned her head gracefully to the window as if someone had called to her. The window opened itself letting the window blow around the white lace curtains, she stepped up to the windowsill as if she were going to jump.

"Dagger! Wait! Don't do it!" Zidane screamed.

Garnet simply looked at him curiously, her tattered dress floating around her silently and with no warning she fell backwards out the window.

Screaming, Zidane charged the open window looking below it hopefully in time to grab her hand but to his surprise there was nothing. No body, no broken tree branches, nothing. It was as if she faded into space. After trying to register what had just happened he looked around the room and locked on to the limp body in the corner. He stormed over to Leopold and felt his neck for a pulse. Clenching his jaw he forced his foot into the other man's gut.

"Get up you miserable bastard!" Zidane screamed, but Leopold just held his head and moaned. Frustrated with Leopold's lack of response he picked him up by the collar and slammed him up against the wall, "I said! Get- " Zidane's white knucked grip on Leopold's collar began to weaken and he dropped him to the floor. His eyes focused on the wall in front of him. Carved into the wood of the wall there were words, familiar words. It was a poem that he remembered hearing Garnet read aloud when she was alone and thought no one was watching; she would sit facing her window and read it with a melancholy expression. He never listened to the words he only watched them be said. He never knew what it meant until that day.

I grieve and dare not show my discontent,

I love and yet am forced to seem to hate,

I do, yet dare not say I ever meant,

I seem stark mute but inwardly to prate.

I am and not, I freeze and yet am burned.

Since from myself another self I turned.

My care is like my shadow in the sun,

Follows me flying, flies when I pursue it,

Stands and lies by me, doth what I have done.

His too familiar care doth make me rue it.

No means I find to rid him from my breast,

Till by the end of things it be supprest.

Some gentler passion slide into my mind,

For I am soft and made of melting snow;

Or be more cruel, love, and so be kind.

Let me or float or sink, be high or low.

Or let me live with some more sweet content,

Or die and so forget what love ere meant.