A/N: Hey! I found my drive! Isn't it awesome?
You can't imagine how happy I am at the number of reviews!
Onto the responses:
Bingo7: Riiight! Cool, calm and collected. What planet are you from? lol! Anyways, that's the case with me. I like the qualities of my older brother (protective being one of them – some girls would find it annoying, but it only proves that he really does care for me, despite his teasing me and visa versa.)
FaylinnNorse: Yeah. My bro's popular with the girls, lol! At one point he was giving "Christmas hugs" in October. And, yeah, Marcus is going lovey-dovey! Hahaha! Great description.
Dark Ninja of Mount Hope: (grin) I dunno. I'm debating between Renold and Sir Hasn't-yet-appeared-but-will-eventually.
Simplegrl007: I get teased as well. My brother decided that if he could see my clavical, my shirt was too low! Haha! It was great when I went out and bought a spaghetti-strap shirt with a slightly-lower-than-normal cut and he was like "you let her out in that thing?" – I would like to point out that I had another spaghetti strap cami under it: ) – So far I haven't found many guys in my school worth dating (too immature, too pervert-ish, too dumb, et cetera). (sigh). I'll just wait I guess. I understand about the touchy thing also.
Piratess of Summer: Now I'm relieved. I guess a lot of girls can relate to liking their brother's qualities.
AphroditeIncarnate: Aww… you hate your brother? That's so sad. I can understand, though. My friend's little brother is the devil incarnate, no joke. But brother's older than me, and likes to keep the guys away (not there are any), so maybe that's it? I threw that quote in at the last moment, lol! I was trying to think of things northerner-ish that Hannah would be able to contradict and have them be amazed. You're welcome (bitte schon! I realized it's schon, not schön.) "ich möchte Deutsch zu lernen, aber daß ist doch nicht moglich! Es ist sehr schwer." – can you tell me in English what you were trying to say? From what I understand, you're saying you want to learn German, and then I get stuck. (sigh). Also, you only need "Ich möchte Deutsch lernen" because lernen means, "to learn".
Long enough answers? Sheesh! My fingers ache and I still have The Younger Twin to update!
Chapter 11: Meeting the Princess
"Thanks," Mercy mumbled as she got off Renold's horse. He nodded and helped her stable Fauna. Their eyes met for a moment as the princess said, "Listen, don't tell anyone what I said earlier. Please."
Renold's eyes dropped, as he remembered his place as her guard, not confident. It was strange enough seeing the calm princess loose her cool and explode like that, but hearing her beg him not to speak… it was all too much; and her contraction didn't get past the guard either.
"Yes, Your Highness." He whispered.
Her hand touched his shoulder, "Please."
"I will not." He told her truthfully. "Your Highness."
Her eyes were hurt, as he had refused to drop formalities, but he was a commoner, and he knew his place.
- - - - - - - - - -
"And this little beauty is…?" Hannah asked.
"Fauna: Mercy's horse." Marcus told her. He noticed the sweat on Fauna and guess Mercy had taken a ride. "I gave Fauna to her four years ago."
They passed Fauna and onto a near-white horse, dappled with little grey and brown spots. "Winter's Chill, Mercy's guard's horse, Renold." He also noticed the heavier sweat on Winter's Chill.
"I see." Hannah brushed by Renold's horse. "Do you gift all royal guards with horses?"
"Yes." Marcus held the hand that wasn't touching or petting horses. "We do, it is a kind of tradition, you might say."
Hannah turned around to face him, "You, me, hunting tomorrow?" She asked quietly. "I would enjoy it greatly."
Marcus' willpower melted. "Sure, Finny and Thomas will have to come though."
Hannah sighed, "Such is the life of royals." She smiled and they continued to pet and view horses.
After a while, they headed inside to get changed for dinner. Marcus dropped Hannah off, and on the way to his own room, passed Mercy's – Renold was getting lunch. Someone was crying. Lightly, as to not disturb her, he opened her parlor door and spied Mercy by the hearth, weeping.
Her face lifted, "Go away. I'm fine."
"You're not fine," He told his sister. "If you were, you wouldn't be crying."
Sighing, he went over and gently brushed her black hair away from her face. Her green eyes were sparkling with tears. "Marcus…"
He smiled. "I'm not going away, Mercy, until you tell me why you're crying loud enough to be heard outside."
Her eyes widened and she stifled another sob. "Outside…"
"Yes."
She shook a little bit and stood. "Nothing, I'm fine."
"You're not fine." Marcus continued. "Did Renold say something to you? I'll talk with him for you. Tell me: what's wrong?"
She shoved him away half-heartedly. Her eyes met his in a furious glare. "What'll I do when you're wed? Where will I be? I'll be the trophy of some noble, nothing more than an heir-producing thing! I have no rights. I live a good life here. I don't want to leave!"
Marcus gathered her in his arms and allowed her to sob into his shoulder. "You don't have to leave, Mercy, I won't let you. You're my sister, and no man will take you as a trophy." When he said 'trophy', she sobbed a little more. "Now, you're acting ridiculous, Mercy, I won't let anyone wed you without truly having some sort of love for you, understood?"
He heard an, "mmhmm." And he released her. Her eyes were red as she spoke, "How bad do I look?"
He smiled and touched her shoulder, "I'll have Renold bring you dinner. I'll say you're sick."
"You're too good, Marcus," She whispered as he left.
- - - - - - - - - -
"Highness?" Renold asked while holding a plate of still-warm food.
The door opened and Renold entered with her food. He set it on the parlor and began to leave, when Princess Mercy spoke quietly, "I never thanked you for what you did earlier," She told him.
Breathing deeply, the guard spoke, "You do not need to, Highness."
"But I do," She persisted. "You did not have to help me."
He paused at the door, "It is my duty," He looked over his shoulder and left. He shut the door and waited for screaming, but it didn't come.
He smiled and sat outside her door. He was fiddling with a carving when someone approached. Prince Marcus was there. He stood and bowed.
"Is she in there?" The prince asked.
"Yes, Your Highness." The guard replied. He bowed again as the king-to-be entered and sat back down, thinking very hard about how much Prince Marcus had changed, and how he had gotten this position, something he remembered vividly.
- - - - - - - - - - -
He was hitting a dummy, practicing fighting dances. His arms ached and burned with the effort of sustaining a certain speed – he'd wanted to impress his drill instructor and them. A boy of ten or so marched over, unafraid of the other men that were practicing at rapid speeds. They all stopped and watched as he passed.
Renold was among them. When the boy stopped in front of him, he kneeled; after all, the boy was Prince Marcus Jonas of Hessex, heir to the throne. Renold bowed his head and watched Marcus' finely crafted boots.
"Are you one Renold Smithson?" He asked with authority. Even if he could lie, he wouldn't have.
"Yes, Your Highness," Manners and station were drilled into them on the first day of training, along with the faces of the royal family.
Marcus' feet didn't move an inch. "How old are you, Smithson?"
"Fifteen on the first day of the Days of Light, Your Highness." Renold replied automatically.
"Excellent." Marcus said. "Come with me." The prince turned and left.
Renold glanced back to his drill instructor, who was watching with amazement. He gave Renold a look that said, "Go on!"
The young guard stood. "Yes, Your Highness," and he quickly followed the prince of Hanor. The prince didn't look back at the commoner.
Prince Marcus, in fact, didn't speak until they had arrived at a gilded door that the guard could've taken for any other. "I am officially assigning you to my sister." He said with a straight face. "You will be her personal bodyguard."
But I'm barely a teenager! He wanted to say. How can I protect the princess? I can barely keep up with the drills! But he didn't, he only said, "Yes, Your Highness." like he'd been taught.
"Perfect." His prince replied cheerfully. "She is in a sort of mood right now, since Her Highness Princess Hannah has left." He shrugged as if he didn't understand why. "I want you to meet her, though." He knocked twice, and then rapped his knuckles. Probably a secret code, Renold told himself.
Prince Marcus opened the door. Princess Mercy was standing, her green eyes slightly dimmed by saltwater tears. Marcus sighed. "Mercy. Do not think this is your fault."
Mercy looked directly at the lanky teen known as Renold. "Who is this?"
"Your bodyguard." Marcus replied. "He is fifteen and do not try to escape him. He is capable of catching an eight-year-old."
Renold decided he probably was able to catch Princess Mercy if she decided to run. "Hello, Your Highness. I am Renold Smithson."
Mercy smiled delicately, all princess and innocence. From the rumors, however, Renold knew she was quite different on the inside.
"I am pleased to make your acquaintance, Renold Smithson."
- - - - - - - - - - -
I'm so sorry about the whole flash drive incident. I'll make it up to you, I swear!