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CHAPTER 7

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MENDING RELATIONSHIPS

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I pried at the doors of the centaur stable clumsily, my body still trembling from the earlier happenings of the day. All I knew was that Alleopes big, blank eyes were going to make everything okay. He'd understand everything. He wouldn't ask any questions. I knew that with him, I'd be safe. Not like I was at home.

I finally managed to open the doors, blindly stumbling in on feet that could barely offer support. I closed the door behind me, panting heavily. That was when I noticed it. Jerrold, rather, leaning on Alleopes stall with a basket of apples by his side. A lantern lit up his profile, illuminating his emerald eyes and the tiny freckles that dotted his face. I wondered if he had heard me. Quietly, I turned to leave. I hadn't intended to find him here, and I certainly wasn't in any condition to face him.

It was too late though. Jerrold spun around, his expression that of complete shock. He set down the apples, dedicating all his energy to staring at me. I couldn't quite decipher the look in his eyes. Was it anger? Pity, or pain perhaps? I was barely skilled at reading people, not then at least. How was I going to find out what he had to say unless I stayed? Half of me wanted to remain under his powerful gaze, while the other half wanted me to run. Before I could manage to decide, he spoke up.

"Rosalie…" he said hoarsely, "Please don't go. Please."

How could I? His eyes implored me to say, while his mouth formed a slight frown. I couldn't leave, no matter how hard I tried. I was betraying myself, but I walked to him and calmly stood near him. I kept a distance of a foot or two though, unsure of how he would react to my being there. That, and the fact that I wanted to stay out of the light of his lantern. I was half- hoping that the bruise on the side of my face wasn't too noticeable. The trickle of blood that came from the cut right above it wasn't exactly helping to be inconspicuous. The hood I wore shaded my face, which relieved me a bit.

Jerrold, luckily, didn't notice. He was too busy looking back at Alleopes, the expression on his face changing completely. The aggrieved expression he'd worn earlier turned wistful. He handed my centaur an apple, which was accepted with appreciation. Things had changed, I noticed. Why, not too long ago, Alleopes had hated Jerrold. The very sight of him had sent Alleopes into a fit of rage. Yes, the change was obvious. Jerrold and Alleopes had become friends, while Jerrold and I had grown apart.

"I put him in a race the other day," Jerrold said conversationally, "I hope you don't mind. I found him a good rider and trainer and in barely a week he was an awe-inspiring race-centaur. 'Amazing progress,' they told me. Never had they seen such a fast learner! It was amazing. So I thought it fitting that I enter him in some races. I bet 100 KJ's on Alleopes and he won! Isn't that grand?" He smiled widely.

I managed a small laugh. "It's amazing. Wonderful. Fantastic." My voice failed me in expressing any excitement at all. Jerrold gave me a sideways glance.

"That's not exactly what you were expecting to hear, is it?" He shook his head. "I have to admit, when it comes to apologies…"

I quickly cut him off, "I didn't come here for an apology or to be a martyr. I just didn't have anywhere else to go. You don't have to feel obligated to say anything to me."

He looked at me surprised. "I never meant… I suppose it sounded like that, didn't it? I'm sorry. I didn't mean to imply that that's why you were here at all." He leaned against the stall, his eyes staring into space.

"I do have to feel obligated to say that. Apologize, I mean. I was overwhelmingly awful to you. Half of that anger; no, eighty percent of that anger should never have been directed at you in the first place. You did nothing to deserve my wrath. You explained every circumstance to me, apologized about ten times, and begged for forgiveness. It was just…" He ran a hand through his wispy brown hair and sighed. I listened intently, trying not to show the pleasure and relief on my face at hearing those words spoken (not that he could see it anyways).

Jerrold continued, "I had barely woken that morning and was barely recovered from my ailments when my father called me to have a talk. I don't think I've ever told you of my father's talks, have I? (I shook my head) No, I was sure I hadn't. Father isn't a bad man, not in the least bit. Sometimes he can go a bit overboard though. I mean, really! I'm not even eighteen, and he's already lecturing me on thinking about marriage and about being king. Marriage! Can you believe that? As if the thought of it has even crossed my mind! I mean, the only girl I even care about is you and the thought of marriage…"

He shook his head and continued, now beginning to pace around the stable. "Marriage is something I don't believe I'm ready for. I don't even think I'm ready to contemplate it! But Father kept insisting that I'm 'coming of age' or some garbage like that. Hah! I was flustered then, not to mention perturbed. Then he went on to a rant about how the prince has to be a stately personage. 'He can't gallivant about town acting like a fool.' Well, he wasn't quite so blunt about it, but I knew that was what he meant. That got me angry. I'm certainly not the most serious person I know, but I'm not foolish. I'm not, am I?" He pouted, his eyes begging me for an answer.

"No," I said simply.

He smiled vaguely in appreciation, before shaking his head. "You're driving me insane, Rosalie! You look like some sort of monk with that hood covering your face. I can't see your expressions as I tell my story! Are you laughing at me under there or are you cursing me to damnation? I know not! And your responses, how they vex me! Do you have anything more to say? 'No'? What sort of response is that? I have no idea of how you feel. I'd be much happier to hear you scold me than to hear your one-word response. You still hate me; I can tell. May I finish my story? Perhaps you'll be more willing to forgive me if I finish explaining. Will you try? To forgive me, that is."

I smiled, but Jerrold could not see that. Curtly, I said, "I do not laugh at you. I don't curse you either. I am expressionless, as far as you are concerned."

"Ah! What fun you procure from my tortures! Fine, I will continue," Jerrold said, a grin seizing hold of his face, "I grew exceedingly angry at my father's unintended insults. I stormed out in the middle of his speech, which got my father mad at me. I rode to the old palace, trying to obtain some solitude. My anger grew by the moment. I couldn't help but think, 'Who is he to scold me?' Now that I think upon it, my father is extremely qualified to try to explain things to me. At the time, of course, you could never persuade me of that. Then, out of nowhere, you appeared. You looked at me with eyes full of worry and caring, and all my hateful eyes could see was someone to blame; someone to take my anger out on. You had not responded to my letters. While that had confused and upset me a little, it was not the reason why I was angry. You pleaded and begged, but I never ceased to bombard you with cruelty."

I met his eyes, which had gone from amused to cheerless in an instant. Jerrold sadly said, "Rosalie, the moment I saw I'd made you cry, I realized how awful I'd been. I never thought that I'd ever be a source of pain to you. And the thought that I'd pained you tortured me. I couldn't sleep that night. I couldn't sleep the night after either. I rode to your house as fast as I could and pounded on the door until I'm pretty sure your uncle was tempted to kill me. It was then that Tatiana told me you'd run away. I hated myself. So, yet again, I took my hate out on someone else. Drago, actually. Good thing is, I don't care if I hurt his feelings or him. Anyways, I still have a large amount of hatred for myself left over. I'll hate myself forever if you don't accept my apology. Come Rosalie, you can't very well live with yourself if you know that you're causing a life of self-loathing for me, can you?"

"That's just like you Jerrold," I rebuked sarcastically, "Turning your guilt into mine."

"I'm confused. Is that your sly way of accepting my apology?" Jerrold asked, furrowing his brow.

"Not exactly what I was entailing when I said that, but sure," I replied, "I accept your apology."

Jerrold stared at me for a moment, before smiling a little bit. He choked out a laugh while itching the back of his neck almost awkwardly.

"I didn't expect it to be that easy," he said slightly amazed, "I was expecting that I'd have to beg on my knees. I mean…"

I rolled my eyes, slightly annoyed. "Would you like me to still be mad?"

He chuckled good-naturedly. "No! Naturally not."

He reached to touch my arm, but I found myself recoiling from his touch. He stared at me in shock for a second before his expression turned to hurt.

"You still are angry," he mumbled. It was not a question, rather a statement.

"No…that's not it…" I whispered, "I don't feel comfortable being… touched I guess right now. It's nothing… please don't think anything of it."

I longed to tell him what had happened, but stopped in fear of his reaction. Not towards me, but rather towards Waldor. Not that I cared a bit for that brusque, disgusting pervert, but I wondered at what Jerrold would do. I hadn't come here to get him to protect me from Waldor. I had tried to protect myself. Until I could figure a plan of some sorts for revenge, I could not go home. Or as long as I was alone with him in the house. My uncle was a lout undoubtedly, but the threat that he posed to me was completely different from Waldor.

I hugged myself, trying not to remember anything about it. The circumstances could have been much more severe and I felt lucky that I had gotten away when I did. The fact that he'd managed to kiss me at all made me feel dirty and sick to the pit of my stomach. When I had resisted; well, my face could explain that well enough. However, my bruised arm and face were nothing to the fact that he'd managed to kiss me. I felt that I had been tainted. I'd never felt quite so helpless as the moment when he took me by the shoulders and pressed his awful chapped lips to me… I hated the mere thought of it; the thought that he thought that he could just come into my room and… I felt a sob erupt from me. I couldn't help but cry over it. He couldn't do that! He simply couldn't… I had to do something!

"Is there something I should know?" Jerrold demanded, taking me by the shoulders, just as Waldor had done earlier. I cried harder.

"No! Just stop… You're scaring me! Please…" I cried into my hands as I wiped at my swollen face.

He stared at me for a moment with narrowed eyes before he reached for my hood and placed it behind my disheveled locks of ebony hair. His face was placid for a moment as he looked at my face. I hung my head shamefully; shameful at the fact that I hadn't shared what happened with him and shameful that the even had happened at all. He cupped my chin with his hand, and tilted it towards his face. Every feature contradicted another. His mouth was neither frowning nor smiling, showing the least amount of emotion. But his eyes… I'd never thought that green eyes could ever look so much like fire as his did. I wasn't quite sure whether his fiery temper was directed at me or the person who'd inflicted the pain upon me.

"What happened?" he asked softly, his fists clenched. He raised his voice and continued, "And why didn't you tell me about this? Do think that even in anger I could ever see you like this and not care?"

"Independent damsels aren't supposed to need a big man to save them," I said meekly, lamely trying to make a joke of the situation. Jerrold was not amused.

"That's so… He did it didn't he? Your uncle! Who I so easily excused of wrongdoing… He did this, didn't he? I'll kill him, I swear! Where is he; I vow to you-"

I pulled the hood back over my face, still mortified of how distorted it must've looked. I looked at him, my eyes sorrowful.

"Don't you see? This is why I didn't tell you. I knew you'd go crazy. You'll do something you'll regret," I lied, not really sure of the true reason I hadn't told him as of yet, "Besides, while I enjoy the prospect of no longer having to deal with my uncle, I cannot condemn him. It wasn't him. Please… just try to settle down. Okay?"

He patted my hand and managed a smile that seemed to burden him. I took a seat on the ground, helping myself silently to one of the apples in the basket. Jerrold knelt beside me, still quiet. He sighed after a while and looked at me, his eyes worried.

"You sure you're alright?" he asked, "You should come with me to get some medical attention to those bruises. That cut doesn't look too good either. I'm sure Mandy has something that'll work wonders on all your injuries."

"No. Thank you, but I don't think I want to answer any of her questions. No… I'm fine where I am," I insisted, "Do you mind if I stay in here tonight? Unless there's a groom on duty, of course. I don't want to get in the way."

Jerrold replied, "Of course you can stay here. I mean, I'd very much prefer you to stay in the palace, but if this is where you want to stay, then far be it from me to stop you. You must allow me to stay with you, then. To make sure you're alright." He blushed a little, but I thought little of it.

I smiled slightly. "I'd like that."

"Well… we can't always trust those independent damsels to protect themselves now, can we?" he joked. I instantly felt guilty. I'm not sure why that particular phrase made me feel that way, but I felt faultiness rising in myself.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you, Jerrold," I said softly, "I don't think the reason I didn't tell you was because of your reaction. I was afraid of you asking about the whole thing. I just don't really want to relive it. You know?"

Jerrold said nothing, but tossed another apple to Alleopes. He leaned on my centaur's stall before turning back to me.

"Was this (he gestured at my bruises) all that happened?" he asked, after a moment's pause. It took me a moment before I realized what he was implying. I stared at him dumbly before turning shamefully to the floor. Could he tell just by looking at me?

I remained silent, not wanting to lie, but certainly not desiring to tell the truth. I don't know what it was… I felt the need to deal with this myself. That, and the fact that I didn't want Jerrold to look at me any differently.

"I will see Mandy," I said finally, hoping that maybe acquiescing with his previous request would please him well enough.

"Oh… Well, good," he said with a smile, no longer looking gloomy, "She's got a magical touch, if you know what I mean." He sent me a wink before ushering me to the stable doors.

I raised an eyebrow and halted in place. "What is that supposed to mean?"

He grinned, scrunching his freckled nose in absolute glee. I was sure he was just doing that to get my mind of my current problems, but it was diverting me a good deal.

"Promise not to tell? Of course you do… Now, there are two things to tell," he said good-naturedly, "The first of which, I could have told you before if it weren't so embarrassing. This fact has been the means of torturing me for some time… Well here it is."

Jerrold proceeded in hobbling around on one foot as he attempted to get one of his boots off. He finally got it off, holding it in the air as rags of different colored cloth fell out. Jerrold then stuck his foot out in front of me. I glanced at it, about to ask him whether he was just trying to fool me or not, but I got too caught up in giggling. Yes, I knew the saying 'Don't throw rocks when you live in a glass house' and I knew the fact that my feet were extraordinarily large, but Jerrold's were positively tiny! I held my stomach as I laughed before I managed to stop. Jerrold was trying to feign a look of aggravation, bet I knew he was glad to divert me.

I finally stopped giggling crazily, wiping at my eyes as I asked, "Thank you, that was very amusing, but I don't see how that is an earth-shattering secret. You have small feet… I'm sure you're not the only one in the world. I actually wish I shared in such luck."

He shook his head vigorously as he stuffed the rags back into his boot and slipped it back on. "Luck? Hah! It's awful. I use to think they'd grow, but it's hopeless. Seems people with fairy blood are stuck with feet like this… Forever, too!"

"Fairy blood," I murmured, "Is why they're so small? I think I read that somewhere-"

"I bet you did. Is that all you ever do?" he asked smugly, a grin tugging at the corners of his lips.

"That's awesome! Are you like a quarter fairy-blood, or less? I think it's up to a fifth fairy blood that you can do miniscule amounts of magic. So… can you? Do magic, I mean."

"I wish," Jerrold sighed, "But alas, I've only got a drop. So my mother tells me, at least. You'd think that something good would come from having fairy blood, but nope… I'm a magic-less, small-footed prince who has nothing but his charms and station to aide him."

"I pity you so very much, Jerrold," I said sarcastically, with a roll of my eyes.

"Yes, well, I've always been a trooper. I've survived Calantha thus far; I can boast that much, at least," he replied. "Well, I've told you one of my dark secrets, it's time to tell you the next. I'm sorry to leave you in anticipation; I know how eager you are to hear it." Jerrold grew solemn. "In all seriousness, though, this is something you can't tell anyone. I mean it! This does not escape us. Mandy told me that if I were to tell anyone… I shudder to think of what will happen."

"Your bravery astonishes, Jerrold. You're afraid of an elderly woman," I mocked, before replying seriously, "I won't tell anyone else. Honestly, I don't think I have anyone else to tell."

"Good, good," Jerrold mumbled to himself. "Well, Mandy, as I learned when I was twelve, isn't just our cook or my Mother's dearest companion, either. She's kind of… Well you know how I've got some fairy blood in me? Well, that's from my mother. The whole line of Eleanor have been friends of the fairies, and since I'm the son of an Eleanor that mea -"

"Mandy's a fairy!" I exclaimed abruptly.

"Exactly," Jerrold said, "Took you long enough! And you're supposed to be the smart one… Humph!"

I was too busy musing about Mandy to retort. "All this time… all those knee scrapes she magically made disappear when we were children… and her amazingly good food… I should've seen it!"

"Tell me about it," Jerrold teased, "You don't know how annoying it's been keeping this to myself! Before you get all excited, she only does small magic. There's some stupid rule or another that prevents her from doing otherwise. Something about tampering with weather and floods… I don't know. So she can't make things out of thin air or anything useful like that. But she can help to heal your bruises and that cut. She's good at that. When Drago and I got in a fist fight one time, and the bruises were gone by the next day."

"I'm not worried," I retorted, "I fully trust Mandy."

"I wish you'd trust me then…" Jerrold said under his breath, then added in a different tone entirely, "Well, then, shall we?"

Jerrold put an arm around my waist as he led me out of the stables into the chilling night air. I cast a glance up into his face trying to distinguish whether he was upset with me or not. He peered back at me, raising his eyebrow as he did so. He seemed amused, curious… not mad at all. Which made me feel even exceedingly guilty as the seconds went by.

"Something the matter?" he asked, inquiringly.

Yes! Couldn't he see that? Something was the matter! Why did he have to make me feel so guilty because I wasn't telling? I would but… oh there were so many stupid excuses that I had fabricated in my own mind to explain this. The truth was, I didn't want to tell in fear that I was being a coward. I wasn't really sure whether or not I could face Waldor alone if the circumstance ever came back up. But if I were to enlist in Jerrold's help… didn't that make me weak? It was terribly prideful of me, but I couldn't help it. It wasn't the right time to tell him.

"I'm sorry," I said finally, leaning my head on his shoulder with a sigh, "I really am."

"Yeah… I know," he replied softly as he pulled me a little closer to him, "C'mon. We'll see what Mandy can do."

I said nothing in response, but I felt amazingly okay for what had happened to me. Jerrold had forgiven me and I him. And for the time being, I was safe and sound with him. That was certainly enough.

----

It was probably late by the time I finally woke the finally morning. There were no windows in the stables, so no sunlight filtered in at all. I shifted uncomfortably; the position I'd slept in was kind of awkward. I was actually more sitting up than laying, and my poor neck was in a rather awkward position resting on Jerrold's shoulder… The whole situation was rather awkward to tell the truth, me sleeping with him right there. Of course when we'd spent the whole night talking and just happened fall asleep like we did, it hadn't been quite so discomfiting. Waking up like that though was a bit uneasy for me, especially when Jerrold was still sleeping.

I sat there motionless for a while, simply observing the rise and fall of his chest and his peaceful face. Once again, I was thankful we were friends. I know how disgustingly sentimental it seemed, but I felt my heart swelling as I watched him, simply because I knew that once again I had a friend. Before I was tempted to gag myself because of these syrupy thoughts, I elbowed Jerrold in the ribcage to wake him. He stirred a little, before groggily stretching out and eyeing me precariously, as if I'd done something wrong.

"It's lovely to see Sleeping Beauty has awoken," I taunted, "I thought you'd never wake up…"

He yawned and hit me in the face while pretending to stretch. "Ahhh, lovely sleep, that was. Yeah… right!" He rubbed his neck, an annoyed expression on his face.

"Well, did Mandy's magic work? Does my eyes look a bit better?" I asked, pointing to my face impatiently.

Jerrold tilted his head and eyed it for a moment before declaring, "It looks a good deal better. Not a bit swollen; barely purple. You look fine. No where near as bad as you looked last night."

"Thank you for your consideration," I snapped, shakily getting to my feet and flattening out my hopelessly wrinkled skirt.

"Don't mention it. Are you hungry? I could sure go for some breakfast. How about you?" Jerrold asked, putting a hand over his gurgling stomach.

"No. I think I should be getting home, anyways. Tata will worry over me and my uncle will scold… I mind as well get it over with now. I can't stay at the palace forever you know," I sighed, secretly wishing in my mind that I could.

"Why not? Mother absolutely adores you, and Father thinks you're a sweetheart," he replied hopefully, "Elani thinks you're the greatest thing since the printing press. Drago thinks you're… well he hates you, but no one cares what he thinks anyways. Same goes with Calantha. You could stay, if you wanted to."

The sappy feelings began to overtake me again, so I firmly replied, "I can't. I've got to go home."

He let out a groan and crossed his arms over his chest. "Fine. Be that way. I've got more important things to do than spend my time with you."

"Certainly," I replied ironically, "I know you must be overwhelmed with the amount of things you have to do. I mean, you're done with lesson-taking, not currently on any military mission for your father, and you're not yet handling any affairs of state. Your list of to-do's really seems to be out the door."

"As a matter of fact," he countered, "Calantha and I are scheduled to spend a day seeing works of Agulen at a gallery in Count Gerik's estate. We've been promised that we've never seen such exquisite pottery. And what exactly are you doing today?"

I searched my mind for any activity that could somehow beat his, but managed to come up with nothing. Jerrold smiled superiorly. "I didn't think so."

I stuck out my tongue. "I suddenly don't like you too much. I think I'll be going, if you don't mind."

"No objections here," he replied, sending me a dirty look. I masked a smile and turned on my heel. We both were just kidding, but I didn't want to lose the game of who was a better actor.

"Good riddance," I called over my shoulder, pulling open the stable doors with an arrogant air.

"Ros-a-lie…" Jerrold beckoned as I began to leave, "Please be careful. Even the most independent of independent damsels need a bit of help now and then. And even if they ask for some help, that doesn' mean they compromise their independence. Hypothetically speaking, of course."

I tucked a tendril of hair behind my ear before repeating, "Hypothetically…"

"Yeah." He shrugged and uneasily fidgeted with his hands.

I closed the door behind me, ignoring the chill of the winter air as I began the long walk home. I had been in such a haste to get away from the manner that I had not bothered to saddle a horse to ride. Jerrold's 'hypothetical' was suddenly rendering so true in my mind, that after I had traveled more than half way home, I was tempted to return to the palace and spill every single detail. By that point however, I had finally realized that I'd stupidly forgotten my cloak in the stable. I was too far along to turn back then, for even with the high noon sun beaming down, the crisp winter air chilled me to the bone. I mentally scolded myself, angry that I was that stupid. I was only just recovering from my recent illness, and I was still extremely self-conscious about those bruises. Even though they weren't the least bit swollen, they were still black and blue. Traipsing around Frell with a few shiners on my face was not exactly on my to-do list. I hung my head a bit so raven curls covered my face and hugged my shivering body.

My manor never seemed so unwelcome before. I stood before it for a good deal of time, a little scared and unsure. I was too cold to stand in contemplation, so I made my way to the front door. I was uneasy, but mad at myself for being so. This was my house. If I wanted him out, I could simply dismiss him, couldn't I? Surely, my uncle wasn't so cruel as to ignore what was right before him, was he? He couldn't look at the bruises Waldor had given me and still remain so harsh. I kept these thoughts close to me, hoping desperately that they would be so. I pulled open the door, not quite so scared. I'd tell my uncle about it all and hope he didn't think I was lying.

"Rosalie! Oh my goodness, where on earth have you been? Tatiana stayed up all night waiting for you," Lynette was rambling, clasping my hand in her own, "And then when she grew too weary, she set me to watch out for you, and I have been all day and I'm afraid your uncle will be very angry at me for not working, but he's not home yet, but Waldor is and…"

"Please don't feel the need to use a period anywhere in there," I murmured, a bit overwhelmed.

"…he told me that I'm not to watch out for you, but Tatiana did, and she's the head of the servants, but he's in charge of all the records around here and I'm afraid he might mark me down as not working and then you'll have sacrificed your entire library for nothing because I'll end up being fired anyways, and I really don't want you to have given up your books for nothing." Lynette took a deep breath and continued, "You scared me very much last night, hurrying out like you did, panting like crazy. You've been hurrying out of this manor quite frequently, disappearing for days or a night. Oh my! You're all bruised up! I'll fetch a wet-cloth right away. They don't seem too swollen, but it might help them to feel a bit better. How on earth di-"

"Lynette! You insolent dolt! Did I not tell you an hour ago that you should get back to work? You certainly will receive a punishment for being so insubordinate," a harsh voice was saying behind us. I started to shake from anger, instantly knowing who it was.

"Oh no!" she squealed, pivoting on her heel to face the hideous brute, "I'm very, very sorry; as sorry as a person could ever be. You must understand sir, that Tatiana instructed me to stay here no matter-"

"Don't waste your breath, Lynette. You were only doing as instructed. Trust someone like him to punish an employee for doing right. Really… what foolishness!" I placed a hand on my hip and glared him down. He simply smiled.

Lynette looked up at me, her big, brown eyes wide with astonishment and admiration. She lowered her eyes and docilely slipped past Waldor, glancing back now and then to send me a grin as she skipped down the hall.

"You're very… spirited," Waldor said finally, his grin malevolent, "And beautiful. So beautiful…" He lifted a hand to caress my face, but I batted it away angrily.

"Beauty is only skin deep, you know. What's on the inside is what really matters. But for you, your inner and outer appearances match. They're both hideous," I hissed, pushing past him into the sitting room.

He followed me, closing the door behind him as he did so. My heart began to race a little faster, and I wished that Lynette hadn't left my side.

"That hurt, Rosalie," he said, feigning an offended look, before forcefully tilting my chin toward him. "I thought you might have learned your lesson for such cheekiness last night."

I stared defiantly at him before snapping, "That wasn't for cheekiness. That was for breaking away when you kissed me. There's a bit of a difference, if you hadn't quite noticed."

"You're clever. You're not some idiotic beauty like most of the other girls your age," he commented, "Though I suppose it would be better if you were."

I raised an eyebrow, unsure of what he was getting at. "What exactly are you getting at?"

"It's all the easier to take advantage of a stupid girl," he replied, watching with satisfaction as my countenance morphed into one of pure disgust.

"I suppose you make a business of it then. Taking advantage of young girls, I mean. I thought you were awful and perverted enough for trying it with me, but if there have been girls before me…" I thought of the poor girls, who might have ended up worse off than I did. I felt like crying for them because I knew exactly how awful and scared they must have felt. I shook with anger.

"You're an awful, awful person! You deserve to be thrown in the dungeons. To think my uncle hired you… surely he must have known your past, and yet he hired you anyways. Old buddies, I suppose. He's worse than I thought… so much worse. To put me at risk, to put all the servant girls at risk! It's sick! This whole… everything is disgusting. You and him, plotting together how to break me; how to make me cry. I'm not broken! You haven't broken me. I'm not afraid to tell someone about you. I haven't told Prince Jerrold yet, but I will. It's not my fault this happened. I'm not weak." I found myself crying now with fury, wanting to hurt him so badly that I, to this day, don't know how I possibly contained myself.

"You know, you're very pretty when you're ang-"

"Stop it! Don't tell me I'm pretty. Don't say anything to me! I don't care if you think I'm gorgeous. I don't care! I don't want to hear it. Leave me alone! JUST LEAVE ME ALONE!"

At the exact moment I began to shout that, almost like clockwork, Tata opened the door with Lynette and Jerrold standing behind her, all of them ogling at me. Waldor sent me a horrified look, but I couldn't have felt any better under the circumstances.

"You forgot your cloak," Jerrold said slowly, after a moment of silence. He quickly threw the cloak down and marched up to Waldor, his eyes consumed with anger. He looked very tall, standing so straight and rigid that it gave the illusion that he was towering over Waldor, when in truth he had a few inches on him at the most. Lynette scurried over to me, putting a comforting arm around my middle because she wasn't quite tall enough to put her arms around my shoulders.

"You… I knew that it had to be someone at her house. You're Waldor aren't you? I should've known… Rosalie has talked about you before; how she gets an unsettling feeling when you're near. I guess there's a reason, eh? So you think it's okay to beat up on a girl that's half you're age? Do you think that makes you strong? You can bruise her, and cut her, and that makes you a big man, doesn't it? Doesn't it?"

"Your highness… really, you've quite misunderstood what Rosalie here was saying," Waldor mumbled nervously.

"Have I? Rosalie, have I?" Jerrold looked at me for a moment, and I met his eyes, before casting them downwards. I shook my head slowly, before softly saying, "I'm sorry." I don't think Jerrold heard me, for he was too busy diving at Waldor, furiously punching him over and over again. Tata stood still for a moment, looking from me to Jerrold, then back to me with a hand over her heart. She hurried to peel Jerrold off of Waldor, but was having little luck. I started slowly approaching the two men trying to pull them apart, but grew too nervous of getting hit by one of the flying fists. Lynette was standing behind me, clasping her hands and sighing.

"Isn't that romantic? They're fighting over you!" she squealed. I wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry over her naiveté.

"It's not romantic at all! They're not fighting for my hand or anything remotely dreamy like that! Jerrold is just beating him up. Oh! I'm afraid he'll get hurt, and it'll be all my fault because I didn't tell him in the first place!" I cringed at every punch sent to Jerrold's face, and trembled as he staggered.

"You two, this is not resolving anything! Really, the two of you fighting like madmen isn't going to change what's happened! Prince Jerrold, your highness, you're heart really is in the right place, dear, but you're only upsetting Rosalie further," Tata scolded, finally in between Jerrold and Waldor, who were panting. "Lynette, go ask Ollo for a piece of steak to help put down the swelling. Highness, please take a seat. Lynette, hold on! Fetch Prince Jerrold some water. As for you, Waldor, we'll see what happens when Master Edward returns. I hope you won't mind to share what you know of the story, your highness.

"As for you, Rosalie, it's up to your room for you. This is too much excitement for someone in you right now. Go rest… my, my, my… Kyrria knows you've been to hell and back in these past months. Go, go! We'll handle everything. Go!"

I exited the room, a little bit angry. I felt like some stupid, meek maiden who had to sit silently as everyone else took care of her problems. I didn't want the men to take care of it, nor did I want Tata to handle it. I wanted to apologize to Jerrold and tell my uncle the truth of what happened; the truth of Waldor's past that he had told me himself. My uncle probably knew about that already. I went up the stairs without voicing this, but I felt angry with myself. I was being stupid and silent, just as I had been to Jerrold the night before. I should have told him the truth when I had the chance. Now he had found out… like this and he was probably hurt because I was an idiot. I felt like one of those girls in the books, who sat around, fawning over themselves while men fought over her (or for her, in my case, as I had told Lynette). I had always hated those stupid, vain girls who didn't care for anyone else. That was me! I was that girl… that prideful girl who didn't tell the truth when she could've.

I locked myself in my room, scolding myself for hours upon hours. I kept thinking about Jerrold and how he was hurt. I paced around, putting my ear to the floorboard every now and then to see if I could hear anything that was going on. There was nothing. For a long while, I sat miserably, thinking of what the King and Queen would think of me. I played the scene in my head: Jerrold arriving home all beat up and bruised. Queen Ella saying to King Charmont , "That Rosalie girl is always getting our Jerrold into trouble, isn't she?" King Charmont would nod in agreement, replying, "Yes, first the time she lit his ball apparel on fire when she was 12, then she neglects his letters, and now this! What an awful, awful girl!" And I was an awful, awful, awful, awful…

"ROSALIE! Open your window! C'mon…"

I looked up, alert and scurried over to the window, pushing it open. Jerrold was at the bottom, his light brown locks in complete disarray, but his green eyes shining happily. He had a bloody lip; I could tell so even from my window. He had only one apparent bruise that formed a dark purple ring around his eye. I felt sick to my stomach.

"I'm not worthy to be spoken to," I replied, distraughtly.

He made a "pfshaw" sound and smiled, thought I saw him cringe a bit. He put a hand up to his bruise but quickly lowered it.

"You're so funny Rosalie… really! I'm not angry. A little disappointed that you didn't trust me, but you know… I'll live," he grinned and continued, "I just wanted to let you know that I banished Waldor from Kyrria. My knights arrived to take him away just a while ago. I'm afraid I went far too easy on him… a year in the dungeons and banishment… should I have been more severe? Well, I'm going to make sure he never gets another job in my country for the rest of his life. That much I can promise you."

I stared at him for a moment, before smiling. "Jerrold…" I couldn't quite think of another thing to say.

He winked at me, and waved as he led his horse away to the main road. How quickly he could go from angry to calm, I mused, And how much he did for me. And what a stupid ingrate I was. I sighed, simply happy the ordeal was over. I still had the nagging though about the King and Queen, but I really wasn't quite so obsessed with it. Waldor was gone, banished from Kyrria forever. It was harsh; very harsh, but I didn't pity him. He was still a disgusting brute, and he always would be. I just didn't have to think about him anymore. That was certainly a relief.

Soon after, there was a knock on the door, and Tata entered. She bustled around, fixing my bed up and tidying the few books I had lying around and straightening the painting that hung on my wall. She did this silently, which made me nervous. She was either very mad or… I wasn't quite certain. I watched her nervously.

Finally, she said, "Your uncle just arrived home. He wanted to see you, but I insisted it was not a proper time. He's not pleased, Rosalie."

"I didn't imagine he would be," I replied. Quite frankly, I had never started to worry of what my uncle would do to me when the whole thing was over. Knowing him, he'd probably blame me. Or maybe I was too busy blaming him again…

"Well, we'll see how things work out," Tata sighed, "I'm growing far too tired of these trifling fights you and your uncle have. You're both wearing each other out. By the time you're eighteen, you'll have gray hairs and your uncle's head will be entirely white!"

"He knows what happened, doesn't he?" I asked curiously.

"As much as he would listen to. He didn't seem too interested…" She shrugged. "If he doesn't care, then there's no way you can make him."

I grumbled, hating the truth in that. So he was callous and unfeeling. This certainly was not going to make my life any easier.

----

Before I told this part of the story, of course, I took into account the blissful innocence of these children, even up to Tanya, and revised the original happenings considerably. Waldor's betrayal of my uncle through theft was enough to make them believe my uncle had discarded him. I was somewhat unsure of how to resolve the fight between Jerrold and I, but I went with a guess from Tanya. I informed them that he came beneath my window and begged countless hours for my forgiveness. Jerrold would never have stood beneath my window for hours while apologizing; it was utterly too romantic for him to do. He probably would have climbed up the lattice after five minutes, insisting that I stop being so sensitive.

That response, however satisfied Lily and Tanya's thirst for romance and succeeded in boring poor Marcus half to death. However, it was much… different from what had really happened. Perhaps not better, because I was not so romantic as the little girls. It altered my story completely and lessened the impact of that horrible man on my life, but I did it because I had to. Lily and Tanya were still interested, so I continued on, quite sure that I would not have to edit any other parts of my story.