I'm here for yet another chapter! I tell myself that you guys would have left more reviews if the deletion had never come about, but I think I might have to admit that I don't have that many readers. SO. Until the time that I get 5 reveiws, I 'm going to decline to write another chapter.

If you're wondering how to correctly pronounce Myrocia (because I'm kind of meticulous like that) here it is: My-Row-sea-ah

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"I hate that man Nephamael," Ethine whispered to me as we relaxed around the napping lady, not needed as she slept. Ethines gray eyes were always sad, and tears pooled in them occasionally and, when she thought no one was looking, she sobbed quietly into her hands. No one called her on her sadness. Everyone knew that because her brother had been sent to the Unseelie court, he was as good as dead now. She was grieving for a brother she had lost.

"I despise him as well, Ethine."

"His eyes follow me, Myrocia. When I walk and talk to people I can feel them boring into me." Ethine whispered, her voice thin and trembling as ever. He watched her too? As much as I loathed the feeling of his stare I wanted it all to myself, the idea of an Unseelie killer in love with me had a romantic appeal. I wanted to brag about how his words were flirting and his smile was seductive, his yellow eyes following me as I turned and walked away from him.

"How awful," I whispered instead, not wanting to wake the Queen. Ethine gave a sigh and rested her head on my shoulder, breath roughening into sobs that made my stomach twist. I could hear vague words but I wasn' t sure if they were meant for me.

"Thank god for you, Myrocia," she was sobbing again and again. "Thank god for you Myrocia."

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"What a shame to let such a pretty face go to waste."

I gave a violent start at the unexpected voice, turning to see Nephamael leaning against a tree behind me. I laid a hand just below my collarbone, still breathing a little hard. The wood had been empty not a moment before, where had he come from? The surprise of his being here made me forget the words that had induced it.

"Oh, my sir, you startled me," I said politely, alarmed by the fact no one else was here.

"You shouldn't let yourself be so easily startled," he said, stepping closer and drawing a long fingernail over my cheek. "It might make you look a fool someday."

I stiffened at the too-familiar touch and took a small step back, feeling the bark of a tree with my light fingertips.

"I have the feeling I have already made myself a fool, my lord. Although the blame partly rests on you, for not warning me of your presence." I was taking a terrible liberty with those words, and I was relying on his apparent fondness of me for him not to strike back.

"That it does. But what would a lady so valuable to the Queen be doing wandering around the wood, not expecting someone to give her a start?" Nephamaels smile was half mocking and half hungry.

"My lady sent me out to look for any fey living at the edge of the courts still here, not prepared for the move," I said, pleased by my solid response. "And I might ask the same of you, my lord." Once again I was being far too rash, completely reliant on his mercy, and his interest in me. I was walking on cobwebs the seconds between the words left my mouth and when he spoke in return.

"No, you couldn't." My spiderwebs broke and I was falling. I had said the wrong thing. "First of all I am no lady." He grinned and relief filled my heart. "On the second count I am of no value to the Queen. And on the last . . ." he stepped closer to me, we were barely inches away, and I was backed by a tree. I was sure he would hear my heart beating too fast, and he would laugh and accuse me of expecting something that was not coming. "I was expecting to start someone. You."

And his lips were on mine, a harsh pressure, the iron circlet grazing my ear and causing me to stagger away and cry out.

"Have you no sense of propriety, sir?" I asked, but I had a ludicrous, floating feeling I could not banish. I had clapped a hand over my ear where it still stung. "I doubt you even know my name!"

He laughed and the floating feeling was gone, replaced by fear and a drained feeling that was only awful.

"I do. I find I can scarce forget the sound of it." His eyes found mine, and I found I could not break away, and any traces of enthusiasm on my part over romance was gone, and I felt like someone had knocked the wind out of me. "Myrocia."

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-Ash