A/N- cue Tales of the Crypt music Yes, it is I, Evo422, back from the year plus that I've spent battling writer's block and lack of motivation. But I've returned, and with a renewed interest in my story. I don't want to abandon it. I've pained over it for too long to leave it to rot now. I'm trying to get things moving here, so I thought a realization of what we all see as obvious would be a good start.

By the way, this chapter is dedicated to all my reviewers... I adore you all so much. I have to thank Tamaran Girl girl especially for being like my very own cheerleader; I would go back and look at your reviews (all 50 bajillion) and feel really guilty and I'd want to start writing again. A lot of authors are in the habit of giving out cookies and stuff, so... um... here's a cookie. An extra big one. Whatever your favorite type is. Thanks so much!

I know some of you hate romance, and would rather me leave it out entirely, but I'm afraid it's part of the story. Don't worry though; Rosalie is hardly a romantic herself. At all.

CHAPTER 9

DENIAL DOESN'T HELP

PART ONE OF OUR HEROINE'S SEVENTEENTH BIRTHDAY

I had nearly forgotten, what with the ball, Waldor, and all the silly fights Jerrold and I had, that my seventeenth birthday was fast approaching. I really didn't want to think about it, to be honest. It would be my first birthday without my mother, a thought that resurrected all those feelings of horrible grief in the pit of my stomach. It wouldn't really be a birthday without Mother singing the Ayorthaian birthday song, laughing at her own horrible accent all the while and smiling her brilliant smile at me.

It became a tendency for me to lapse into moments of complete and utter despair. I hated that she was really gone. I would hole myself up in my room, and just gaze out the window, not really looking at anything in particular... just thinking. I wondered if it would happen like this every year; if for the rest of my life I would never again be able to enjoy my birthday without remembering my mother and missing her terribly.

"I have faith, mistress," Tata told me, a small half-hearted smile on her face, "That in the future you will have a happiness so great that, while you may miss your mother, you will be able to remember your memories with her as happy." She had that odd look on her face, the one where she gave a silly smile. I wondered at the undertones and decided, if they had anything to do with what my uncle was hinting the other night, I would prefer they be implied than verbal.

I hoped, or rather, prayed that my uncle wasn't going to try anything on my birthday. I wondered if he even remembered when my birthday was. Ideally, Edward would forget about it completely; no, everyone would forget about it altogether and I could just spend the day in a normal fashion. Of course that was a fleeting fancy... It turned out that my birthday was the start of some rather interesting and drastic occurrences... some of which I don't care to recall. It seemed that becoming seventeen was the beginning of the end of my life as I then knew it.

It was the eve of my birthday, and I decided that rather than give my uncle any hints with my brooding manner (though I highly doubted his ignorance), I would seek out Jerrold and perhaps visit with Alleopes, my most beloved centaur. Of course, as it always seemed these days, he was no where to be found. A foolishly grinning Elani told me quite crypticly that he was 'doing something very important', which confused me almost as much as the wink she gave me after saying that. I decided to ignore our baffling (and somewhat disturbing) meeting and was on the verge of heading home when I happened upon Marla and Devlin in the courtyard. Preferring the presence of my friends (it was still odd to call them that) over the solitude that awaited me at home, I greeted them and was a little surprised at the greeting I recieved.

"Seventeen is a marvelous age!" Marla exclaimed to me matter-of-factly, taking my hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze.

"Jerrold told you?" Curse him, I thought angrily, And this after I made him promise to keep his mouth shut!

"Yes, and I don't see why you aren't glad! Seventeen will be a very good year for you, I just know it!"

I gave a small laugh. "I think, at this point, that it must be at least a little better than sixteen. Do you like it? Being seventeen, that is."

Devlin, who was loafing on a garden bench, stretched out and yawned. He was in his typical disarray: messy hair, wrinkled clothing, and, if I saw correctly, he was wearing two different shoes. (Alright... he wasn't quite that bad)

"Seventeen?" he replied (out of turn, I might add), "I can't say I liked it especially. How, Marla, is seventeen a 'marvelous age'? Why is it better, per se, than eighteen or nineteen?"

She blushed a little. "Well... I'm only seventeen, so I cannot speak for eighteen or nineteen. I just know I prefered it over sixteen or fifteen..."

"Devlin, I think she was just giving me a vote of confidence. I doubt there's any tangible reason why seventeen would be better, or worse, for that matter."

He shrugged. "Still, I don't think it's right to lie to you and tell you that it's better when, in reality, it could very well be much wors-"

"I think we all understand your point, Devlin!" I stated in frustration.

Marla giggled at the Duke's bluntness. "Well, Devlin, I believe getting older does have its benefits. I'm taller now, and not quite so awkward as I once was..."

"The older you get, the sooner they're going to want to marry you off," Devlin interjected, "Usually to someone that you don't even know or like."

Marla looked at me, biting her lip to supress a laugh. I rolled my eyes. Devlin really had no idea of how to reassure someone.

"Where are Jerrold and Ian?" I asked, doing anything in my power to get off of the topic of my birthday and especially marriage. The latter was almost as terrible as the first in my book.

"Oh. Well, Ian is visiting an old friend of father's; Baron Freder... no, not Frederick... it was... goodness, I'm very bad with names. Jerrold is with King Charmont, anyways, discussing state business with his father's advisors and such-

Devlin shook his head. "That was this morning. It couldn't have lasted this long. I think he's gone to the old pa-"

"Devlin!"

He looked at her, furrowing his eyebrows. "What!"

Marla threw her hands in the air. "Devlin, you are positively the most hopeless person I've ever met!"

"I'm not going to a party," I blurted, suddenly feeling a little ill. Why was Jerrold doing that? He knew that I hated even thinking about my birthday. I wouldn't go... not even if all of Kyrria showed up to honor me! "If that's what he's doing, it's all for nothing..."

Marla shook her head profusely. "Devlin, you idiot! Can you follow even the most simple of instructions?"

He gave a bewildered look. "Well he's not throwing a party, so I can't see why you're getting all worked up. She doesn't know-"

"You were supposed to stay quiet!"

Devlin looked to me, shrugging a shoulder apathetically. "He isn't throwing you a party, you know."

"Yes, I surmised as much, thank you."

Marla was becoming increasingly more distraught. "You've ruined-"

"I've ruined nothing! Really... it's not as if he'll actually find-"

"I could kill you, Devlin, I really could!"

I smiled at their squabbling. "As long as it's not a party, I'm thrilled. Whatever he's doing, he really shouldn't..."

Marla clenched her teeth. "I don't know what to do with that... oaf. Devlin, for someone who possesses so much book knowledge, it's a marvel that you lack all social graces!"

He gave a aloof grin. "Well, if I didn't, we'd still be stuck with Calantha, now wouldn't we?"

She rolled her eyes, trying unsuccessfully to hide her smirk. "I suppose your penchant of offending annoying foreign notables is your one positive attribute."

Devlin seemed pleased at that. "Calantha, the stupid trollop, had been bothering us all day," he explained, to me, that goofy look of pride still on his face, "Being herself I suppose. She was talking about how 'juvenile' sliding down bannisters was. Marla was really of no help, her only objection being 'But it seemed like a lot of fun'-"

"Well, I don't have kinship with the king to rely on, do I? If I was rude to her... Well, I don't imagine it'd do much for my reputation," Marla finished lamely, looking a little embarassed.

"So I told her to sod off. I said to her, 'The only reason you think badly of it is because the sight of Jerrold catching Rosalie in his arms reminds you that you'll never have his heart.' You should have seen her march off after-"

"Devlin! How could you say something like that?"

I felt my cheeks burning. Why did everyone keep saying that? Edward, Tata, even Devlin, the most dense person on the planet, seemed to be observing the same thing... Was I the blind one? It seemed to me that Jerrold was treating me the same as always. Our relationship had actually been more tumultuous over the past months than it had ever been before. He didn't... he absolutely couldn't be in love with me. It was because we were getting older. Did everyone assume, just because we weren't children anymore, that we'd automatically fall passionately in love? Did no one understand the concept of friendship? Sure, we weren't seven year olds anymore, and yes, perhaps their assumption was in some ways understandable. It seemed silly to me, though. Jerrold... well, he was just Jerrold. Not my eternal love or any of that. Just Jerrold.

Even in my head that made very little sense.

Devlin looked bewildered. "Well, why wouldn't I? We all know that he's-"

"Devlin, dearest," Marla said delicately, taking a seat beside him and patting his knee in a patronizing manner. "This is the part when you stop talking, all right?"

He shook her hand off, frustration apparent on his face. "I don't see why everyone must watch everything they say around here. Just because we all keep quiet doesn't make things any less true. Even if I don't call Calantha an arrogant hussy, she still is! Even if-"

"We understand your extremely valid point," I mumbled, still feeling uncomfortable, "But people around here appreciate being flattered. As honorable as your candor is... it can be tiresome."

"Tiresome?" Marla screeched. "I think, if Devlin prizes candor so much, I can think of several far more appropriate terms."

The two of them continued on that tangent; Devlin defending his blunt honesty while Marla instructed him (or tried to instruct him) on the finer points of being polite in society. I was more of an observer than a valid part of the conversation. My head was somewhere else entirely. As upset as I had been about my birthday, I was more disturbed by the thought that Jerrold might actually love me in the romantic sense of the word. I loved him, of course, but not like that. At least I was sure that I didn't. Heavens... this was difficult. And there was no one to talk to about it either. Tata would smile in that stupid sage way and give some stupid vague advice. It occurred to me to write zhAthulPa, but with all the time it would take to get the letter to her and get one in return, it hardly seemed it would be of any help. And I could hardly approach Jerrold and say 'Are you in love with me? Because it'd be great if I could get a yes or no on that."

My birthday would pass, and hopefully would take my cheerlessness with it. But this mess... that was a different story. I saw Jerrold all the time. What would I do? What if I was in love with him? That seemed unlikely, because I was sure by the way love was portrayed in books that I would be suddenly and alarmingly clear to me that I was desperately in love. But stories were stories. If he loved me, I'd know, I decided, feeling too confused to continue analyzing, And if I loved him, it would be perfectly apparent to me.

For some reason, though, that didn't help me to sleep that night.

"Seventeen," Tata said gently, pushing the stray hairs out of my face as I sat up in bed. The sun was shining brilliantly through the window, revealing by its brightness that it had to be at least nine or ten o'clock. I rubbed my eyes and squinted up at her form.

"Morning already?" I asked, groggily. "I only fell asleep twenty minutes ago..."

Tata shook her head, her expression both amused and... I suppose full is the only way I can put it. She looked overwhelmingly proud and loving and I felt a surge of guilt. I didn't deserve that look after all the trouble I'd put her through.

"Seventeen," she repeated, smiling slightly. "I cannot believe that the little baby that I held in my arms not too long ago is now a woman."

I blushed, unsure of how to react. I knew that she was serious, but part of me wanted to laugh her flattery off, being utterly uncomfortable with hearing her praise. "Thanks...?"

"Don't try and turn this into a joke," she said sternly, "I'm trying to compliment you. I know that if your mother was here, this is what she'd want you to know."

I pulled the covers up to my chin, feeling a chill running down my spine. I didn't want to start crying over my mother, but I didn't want to interrupt her story, either. She was trying to help; to fill the void if she could, and i loved her for it. But it seemed so much harder when you actually spoke about it, rather than leaving it inside.

"Tata..."

"I remember when she was seventeen," my old nurse mused, "She was a gorgeous creature. Petite, with those vibrant green eyes; she could stop a man in his tracks. That was when she met your father, you know. Enchanted him the first time they met. He was such a fool for her; I don't think there was a single thing he wouldn't have done for her. She was only seventeen when they married. My Isabelle... she was a vision if I ever saw one..."

I pulled my knees to my chest, feeling like a child listening to her favorite fairy tale. "She was only seventeen?" I asked quietly, feeling that uneasy mix of happiness and longing. "I used to think, when I was a little girl, that I would be different when I was older. That somehow, when I reached a certain age, I'd be mature and sophisticated... that'd I'd somehow know the answers to everything. It's silly now, but I was so sure of it back then. I wanted to be just like her..."

"You are."

"No," I said, giving a self-deprecating laugh, "I'm not. I wasn't fishing for compliments, Tata, but thank you for saying so. I'm nothing like her, actually. I'm socially inept and rather silly. And I'm perfectly fine with that."

"Rosalie-"

"I just wish I knew! I mean... what on earth is wrong with me? Am I so detached I can't even tell if I'm in love? Everyone else seems to think so, but I can't seem to make sense of it."

Her eyes widened at me in surprise. "Are you talking about Jerrold?"

I threw off the comforter and began pacing around, gesticulating wildly.

"Of course I am! Who else? I hate this! If you had kept your presumptious looks to yourself, and Edward had just kept quiet, and that idiot Devlin had simply shut his mouth for once, I could have-"

"No one is forcing anything upon you, mistress!" Tata explained, her brow furrowing with worry, "If I knew how upset you'd get, I'd never have given 'presumptious looks'. I never thought... Darling, I hardly know what to say! Do you mean..." She paused, her facing looking slightly horrified, "Do you mean that you don't love him?"

"I don't know," I replied, trying to collect myself. I wasn't sure quite what was happening; why all of a sudden I was feeling the burden of this. All the hints and suggestive looks hadn't really bothered me when they stood alone, but they were quickly accumulating. I gave a terse laugh. Edward was right. Any other girl in Kyrria would gladly give their every possession to be in my position. I was horrible...stupid, ungrateful, totally and utterly insane...

If he loved me.

"He might not," I began uneasily, giving Tata an imploring look, "He's never said anything to me. I know that you think he hasn't had to...that it's all implied... He's my best friend, though! I'd know if there was something else there. This is ridiculous. The last thing in the world he'd want is to be in love with me. I think he's got enough on his hands, what with being the future king..."

"You can't choose who you love or when," she replied, an aloof expression on her face. She might as well have been fifteen-year-old Lynette, looking off into the distance with that silly look in her eyes. Here she was, daydreaming about love and romance, when I was trying to escape those very ideas!

"You're hardly helpful! In the off case that this is actually true, well... I think it's a horrible threat to a perfectly wonderful friendship."

"Or a new step..."

I plopped onto the edge of my bed, looking at Tata helplessly. "What if I can't be around him anymore? What if everytime I see him I start getting like this... I can't lose Jerrold, Tata. I mean... he's everything. He's all I ha-" I paused, feeling suddenly faint. That was simply bad word choice; I don't mean it like that I knew I'd said that before, but I had never seen the implications underneath. Did best friends really feel that strongly? Or was it something more...

"That sounds suspiciously like a girl in love," Tata said, as if she had read my mind. Not that she needed to. It seemed blatantly obvious when I put it like that.

I stared at my trembling hands, the thought of refuting her not even crossing my mind. I did sound like a girl in love. And that scared the hell out of me.

A/N- Not my best, I don't think. The transition into the Tata/Rosalie scene was a little weak, I know, but I really wasn't sure of how else to do it. Anyone want to be my beta? I've done without so far, but I think I should probably get one. Looking back on some past chapters, I've used some modern slang that sounds a little ridiculous. A good beta could probably catch those stupid little mistakes I make. If you're up for the job, drop me a message somehow; via review or email (I'll enable viewing it).

I hardly think this chapter is worth a years wait. Not that I've written it over a year. More like over the course of yesterday and today. Which, I openly admit, is pretty sad, considering that it could have gotten to you sooner. I actually couldn't make up my mind on what I wanted to write. I was going to marry Edward to someone, wrote half of a chapter and decided I didn't want to go there; started the chapter a thousand different ways (or three... I tend to exaggerate). I decided at last that I needed a catalyst. And what better catalyst than Rosalie debating on whether she's in love with her best friend. Not very romantic though... as she absolutely hates the idea of it. Sorry if it came on too strong...

Also, I'm sorry for the lack of Jerrold, and Edward, for that matter. They'll be there next chapter.

Be gentle with me... I'm only just coming back.

Sorry about the year wait... I'm gonna work on that. ;)