2 Sep 2014; 12:59pm 17

AN: There is really no excuse for me not updating this in December. Well, other than "writer's block" (the Dave part in particular wasn't coming to me) on it and wanting to spend time with my friends. As for why I didn't update before then, well my life went to literal shit as I was doing some seriously ridiculous amount of homework every night on top of working nearly every day, and my health and grades were horrible just because of this one class. Yeah, it was literally the worst semester I ever went through. December was like my wind-down and chill time as I had gone through some major stress, including financial stress (which is still affecting me greatly even as I write this). Also, I've been putting up with some shit from my BFF, too, as the person who lets people dump their shit on them…sorry for using the word "shit" so much x'D I just needed to vent for a little….anywaves, back to the story—I really hope you all enjoy this chapter and its suspense (I made it long on porpoise)!

UPDATE: That was really old up there, and the current fail is because I went through Basic Training for the Army and am currently in AIT at Fort Lee, but I graduate October 27th and will be returning home to some long quiet time to update this regularly again! By the way, you'll be happy to know that I reread the ENTIRE fic and edited any grammatical errors that I saw to enhance the story, so it's a real clean read now!

UP-UPDATE! I ended up tasking myself with many things, but they're starting to calm down now, so I'm updating this officially now—woot!

UPD8! (literally) Even though I'm mad about Gamzee not being mentioned in the final pages, I'm still going to UPD8 this just for the sake of being able to a pull a come-back on the 7th anniversary, aka the end to it all. Besides that, this chapter has been stretched on for long enough and is in due need of completion, don't you think? Well, onward with it now!

Note on the Blacksmith's Tent: This link here ( fs70/f/2012/182/2/6/medieval_blacksmith_sandro_dorst_by_ ) is kind of what I am going for with his shop, however it is a lot more closed off with more heavy cloth for the roof.

By the way, the currency is going to be kept written as "gold coins" now because Euros do not fit this setting at all.

Warning: Minor character death (as in one of the servants).

Chapter Summary: Visits with Kanaya become common when Aradia finds herself on her own in the castle (being that the maids appear to be against her). Other than that, life isn't so bad for her. That is, until a promotion hits her in the face after an unwarranted discovery befalls her.

On the other hand, the Queen's beloved knight decides to venture into the opposite land in search for a new sword.

After that, a big ball goes down and Aradia is asked to serve an important role. But what will become of her afterward? Sometimes departure is the best option in these cases.

Chapter Five

The Castle of Tartaunus Part II

BREAKFAST HAD GONE BY SURPRISINGLY WELL. That is, when the servants weren't looking at Aradia's "newt addition" to her uniform it was okay. Were the maids really that immature? Apparently so. In fact, certain maids started to show their true colors to her when she was moved up a level (the Queen declared it so after breakfast was dismissed).

When the young widow had entered the ex-duchess' tailor room, she was surprised to see how much the room had changed already. It was literally only yesterday that the floor had been littered with various colored fabrics as well as comfy chairs with dresses draped over them; all had been moved to a new location (that Aradia did not know of).

"Oh, Aradia dear! What brings yo—oh, I see. Come forward now so I can examine that" Kanaya had turned around with a sewing needle in her hand, all smiles, until her bright smile had faltered when she noticed the choppy heart cut into the widow's uniform. "Looks like a maid already decided that she didn't like you" the tailor chuckled as Aradia sunk down into the now-empty chair of red velvet.

"I believe it was the maid that showed me to the room that did the deed and I apologize, but I cannot recall her name to tell you" the widow folded her hands in her lap and frowned.

"Ah, and what might this maid's appearance be of?" the Queen's tailor responded and lowered herself to about Aradia's sitting height, leaning forward to closely inspect the damage (Kanaya was tall for a woman). "Moreover, did she have lush auburn hair in a perfect bun? You are all supposed to have buns, of course, but Crimelda's stands out both in alignment and shape."

Mulling over Kanaya's question, Aradia tilted her head to the side and wondered if auburn was the right description. However, the maid did have the perfect bun. "I believe that we are talking about the same person" she said as Kanaya stood tall again.

"Unfortunately a simple over-stitch would look silly, so I will have to fit you into a larger size" Kanaya focused the subject back on the dress specifically and tapped her chin, frowning at the work that the predicament had led to. "Alright stand up then," the ex-duchess lifted a flat palm up into the air to show emphasis as she turned to the pile of beginner maid dresses. Once she reached the box, Kanaya bent down and lifted the first dress into the air (the medium-sized ones were on top of the large ones).

"Well, let's get you fitted into this one and then I can pin you where it's too big or doesn't look right," Kanaya looked behind her at Aradia, but then quickly looked back at the shelf of books in front her when she realized that the widow was removing her clothes. Even though they were of the same gender, it was rude to watch another change. She was thankful that she hadn't caught anything. The ex-duchess extended her arm backward—with the dress hanging over it—for the new maid to take when she was ready. Not long after Kanaya did that, Aradia did reach out for the dress and was quick to slip it over her head, too, however effectively messing up her bun (ah well; she hardly cared for the strict tidiness that every other maid sought to keep up with).

"I'm done!" Aradia said in a cheerful manner and ran her hands along the pleaded end of the uniform. Kanaya took a step backward and turned around on that foot, making her way over to Aradia with a critic's common expression, ready to judge. The widow's expression twisted into one of concern as the ex-duchess had her turn multiple ways as well as lift her arms up several times, different directions. "Ah, is it that large on me?"

"No dear," responded Kanaya in a small voice. The elegant woman crouched down and pinched two parts of the white fabric, holding them together and taking the pin out of her mouth to keep them together as she moved onward. "This is how I focus; I apologize if it is alarming you, but I promise that we will get this to fit nicely against your slim form (which is quite lovely if I do say so myself)" the ex-duchess stood up with a reassuring smile laden on her face. "I believe I have properly located the worst places now, so it's good to be adjusted. Unfortunately, you will have to wear the soiled dress for the remainder of the day while I edit this, though. Sorry, darling" she tilted her head to the side and gave Aradia a piteous look.

"It's alright, Kanaya" the widow in turn gave Kanaya a smile, though it was small and sad. "I'll be okay!" she perked up after and started to lift up the uniform over her head; the ex-duchess widened her eyes at the action, and then abruptly covered them.

"Christ's blood and nails!"

Four hours past Aradia's visit to the tailoring room, a devious event had occurred before her eyes that confirmed Kanaya's warning that all of the maids were cold-hearted people that only cared for a promotion.

What she had witnessed wasn't any less than real: Crimelda, the maid that had led her to the sleeping area, had clearly tripped the maid carrying the mix of pink paint. Of course, the maid's leg had snapped out before Queen Feferi could witness the evil deed. The Queen did turn down the hallway, but it had been just in time to see the pink mix fly up and onto one of her great portraits.

It was obvious that the act was not going to go down well, even if it was an accident.

"Oh your highness!" Crimelda had cried out and ran over to examine the damage. "I'll go clean this up right away! I cannot believe that Shenara would be so careless!" the maid had shaken her head back-and-forth and gave this "Shenara" a look of disappointment.

Feferi had, upon seeing this exchange, clapped her hands together and decided to promote Crimelda to a salmon pink dress for taking up the daunting task, demoting the girl with the paint as a result.

The widow had been at a safe enough distance, and did not want to end up getting involved somehow in the scene, so she absconded as quickly as she could (without running of course, because running brought unwarranted attention).

Now that Aradia knew just how nasty the maids could get, she decided that it was in her best option to stay as far away from them as possible. Plus, her basement duty wasn't all that bad—it kept her out of the Queen's way and provided her with the silent comfort of being alone that she loved so much. Although, it was the silent moments that made her miss her house in Brinksman land, as well as praying over her late Husband's grave; but she would get over it in good time.

The widow had to for the sake of her sanity.

When night-time had fallen, Aradia had the misfortune of passing by the seer again, but of course she wasn't aware of the truly freaky ability she possessed. That is, until the girl jerked her head upward all of a sudden and reached out to grasp at the widow's uniform, lips parted and a creepy sound escaping them.

Startled, Aradia stepped back and yanked at her arm in an attempt to have release but clearly, the seer was not going to let her go so easily, holding fast. Near desperation, the widow knit her brows and glanced around her in hopes that maybe a knight was around. After no such luck was hers, the new maid pursed her lips and stared on into the prophet's misty eyes.

"What is it that you want from me? I have work to do you know." Normally Aradia wouldn't have sounded so rude, but the seer was not someone that a mere maid such as herself would want to be around, so she wanted to leave the hallway as soon as the woman relaxed her tight grip.

A wicked smile formed on the seer's face and she laughed at Aradia's response to her sudden grasp. "As the law forbids it, I am unable to tell you any visions I have of her Highness, but I will warn you to be wary of her—something is going to occur between you two very soon, so heed my warning dear widow." How did this woman know that the new maid was a widow? "Also, be thoughtful of others' actions, especially after what you will come to witness two days from now. If you choose to squeal like a pig, then you will be rewarded dutifully. Accept this promotion gratefully, meaning that you should not decline as the Queen is very persistent. If you do decline, however, she will see you as more humble than any maid she has ever hired before, but you will still be promoted no matter what. In other words, don't fight with her." The prophet grinned and drew close to the widow's face to whisper ("do not ignore this vision's warning") with a high-pitched cackle before she released her iron grip.

Rubbing her wrist gently, Aradia looked on at the seer with wide eyes, even as the woman sashayed down the hallway to continue toward her destination. Blinking rapidly, the widow turned her head back around and headed down the opposite direction of the hallway, absolutely peeved.

Just what would she see that could change her destiny so?

The widow spent the rest of her day pondering over this sudden reading from the Queen's personal seer, her expression that of a dazed person during her nightly cleaning duties, and she had also spent dinner as such. It was a good thing the other maids were oblivious to this…or rather, they just didn't care for Aradia at all. And when night came, the widow went to bed with empty conclusions that made no sense, so the woman simply fell asleep on the assumption that whatever will be, will be.

And two days later, Aradia surely did come to witness this unfortunate event.

The morning had passed on by rather smoothly as well as the quiet afternoon, and the shifts were both free of any sign of conflict among the maids, so the widow could not understand why these girls would be doing this to one of their own.

From her position behind the middle glass window in the back wing on the third floor (facing the splendid castle garden), Aradia could just barely make out in the pitch dark four maids digging up the Earth, destroying what was once a perfect lush green.

What was their motive, though?

There was a long box of some kind that had at first blended in with the dark, but now that Aradia could better see it, the once death-obsessed part of her recognized it as a makeshift coffin, and it took all of her willpower not to squeal. Clearly what these maids were doing was unauthorized as there would have been a ceremony before hand, right? At least that's what the widow expected there to be. Well, there was only one way to know for certain.

She had to investigate these girls and expose their wrongdoing. It was the right thing to do, and although Aradia saw herself as no hero, whoever this person was that they were burying deserved an acknowledgement of death at least.

Determined, Aradia straightened out her apron and turned away from the window to hobble on down the hallway just before the only entryway back into the castle from the gardens. Eavesdropping was the only way to know for sure that these girls had done something wrong without having to personally go out and dig back up the dead (for all the widow was concerned, that person could stay in the ground. Plus, she didn't want to dirty her dress—digging up the ground was hard work, especially by one's self!).

Golden rays hit the bob of platinum blond hair beneath it, beating upon the knight's head and making him irate. Well, internally irate that is. This particular knight in shining armor would never reveal his emotions externally.

Or at least he tried his hardest not to.

Beneath this sunlight the knight rode his trusty steed, the white Marwari, and as he passed the fish monger he nodded to the man in acknowledgement. After all, he was the Queen's favorite vender so it was best to do so.

When the knight reached the port, he stood down from his horse and petted her soft black mane as he looked onward over the sparkling lake. The fog just overhead had him grimacing (internally), but what could he do about it? Nothing.

"Uh hello there, Sir David!" a chipper yet meek voice called behind the knight and when said Sir David looked behind him, he saw the taller male bowing in respect to him. The knight nodded in return to the boy when he stood, and it was then that Sir David recognized him.

"Ah, Johnny boy! Running another message for the Queen?" the knight ask in his usual cool tone, internally elated to see who he considered to be his best friend (without the Queen knowing, of course).

"You betcha I am!" the black-haired boy grinned, revealing his set of buck teeth as a result. "Although I cannot give you its contents, I can say that it's a grim one yet" John's smile faltered at such news, but the boy was quick to regain his original composure when the ferry man's call was heard.

"Hey there, Sir Egbert!" said the ferry man as he turned his long boat to face the dock sideways. "And, uhhhh, good Sir…k-knight" he stuttered at the end, unsure of how to properly address the knight. Military did not come often to his transportation.

"Just call me Dave" the knight said with a lift of his chin, and the boy next to him smacked his hand against his head.

"It's Sir Strider, you goof!" A hypocrite the messenger was in calling the knight "a goof," but Sir David made nothing of it except to stare up at John with his piercing red-eyed gaze. The taller male gulped at this.

"He can call me whatever he wants, John."

"Hey, don't say my name in front of the ferry man! Oh come on, Dave! I was trying to have him call you by a respectable name, yeesh!"

"Sir David is respectable. Hence the 'sir' prefix" the knight deadpanned.

"That's not what I me—"

"Whatever John; let's just board already. My white beauty takes a hot minute, so you get on first to help me, will you?" Sir Strider cut the messenger off and patted his horse's head, the horse rolling its lips in response as John grit his teeth.

"You don't have to ask, Dave. I have to respect your wishes, anyways" the messenger rolled his eyes in parallel to the knight's horse, then climbed on over the edge of the long boat, the ferry man watching him carefully.

"I don't think your attitude is very respectable, Johnathan" the knight responded with the slightest lift of his lips into a small smirk while he worked with the horse's reins.

"Really Sir Strider? Your sarcasm is just as appreciated" John rolled his eyes again, peeved that Dave decided to use his full name just to get on his nerves.

It was after John had sat down at his usual front row seat that he realized that the horse's butt would be up in his business if he chose to sit there. "Oh no, um Sir David? Where do you plan to sit? The far back row with all the books?" the messenger asked the knight as he coaxed his horse onto the boat (the ferry man's daily banana smile dropped because of the horse's size).

"John, hush and let me situate her first. And yes, obviously I'm going to sit in the back. I don't want to sniff her ass, John." The messenger laughed at the knight's last remark, and then turned around to crawl over to the last bench row.

"Okay Dave! Whatever you say."

Although the ride to Hopeland was pleasant for the messenger and the knight (they talked the whole time about nonsense), it was a little different for the ferry man. The poor boy had to suffer the wrath of the horse while he focused on steering through the dark waters. Such wrath consisted of the horse bending down her head and nipping at the ferry man's hood. At one point the horse pulled it off, and the ferry man had whacked his hand above his head in an attempt to change the horse's course of attention but alas, the attempt was futile as the horse had instantly found a new joy: the ferry man's soft brown hair.

So when the long boat reached Hopeland's dock, relief had washed over the ferry man, freedom from the horse's playful biting at his hair nearly attained.

John had found humor in the whole ordeal (when he finally noticed the ferry man's distress), and had patted the ferry man atop the head with a loud laugh. "Nice hair style, ferry man! Why were you hiding it this whole time, huh? Ah whatever—I gotta go before the King grows sour with impatience!" John placed a gold coin on the ferry man's head, laughing all the while.

And thus, John left. However, the knight decided to take his sweet time in convincing the horse to follow his lead and de-board, the horse too infatuated with snacking on the ferry man's hair.

"Come on girl, let's get out of here. I have to get a new sword before the sun falls short of the horizon" Sir David cooed at his mare, which sounded funny coming from such a stoic-looking man. "Don't be like that." The knight frowned. "Here look," he said again while reaching into the brown sack that hung from his belt. "I got a real snack for you to enjoy!" Dave exclaimed with and held out the red apple, waving his hand back and forth in front of the mare's head from where he stood safely on the dock.

The white mare seemed to notice him this time (bribery always worked on her), and she neighed in glee, tapping her front right leg in the process, successfully making the ferry man nervous.

Once the knight had managed to get the horse onto the dock, the ferry man breathed out a sigh of relief. At least he was paid well for his troubles, the ferry man thought after Sir David had produced a good sum from his other pouch to give to the ferry man.

"Be here before the sun reaches short of the horizon. Thanks" the monotonous knight looked back and said after climbing aboard his horse.

The ferry man simply scratched at his mohawk, and then pulled back up his hood while his new passengers complained for him to get a move on.

Twenty minutes later of wandering around the market on horseback, the knight finally came across a not-so-shabbily-built—with a heavy tent cloth on strong wooden beams—shop that blocked the chilly air by having a tent flap hand closed over the only entrance all day. That is, unless it was a sunny day—extremely rare for Hopeland—and business was booming. But so far, not so much luck came for this blacksmith.

Parking his steed in front of the shop, the knight carefully slid his leg over the horse to step down onto the ground. He then grasped the reins and led her over to a surprising pile of hay near the shop. What a perfect place to keep her, but odd at the same time (how many blacksmiths kept haystacks by their shop?). Shrugging it off, the knight walked toward the entrance, boots splashing the mud beneath him around.

"Gross," Sir Strider shook his head at the new mess, shaking his now mud-covered boot off. Eh, it would eventually dry.

"Hello?" The knight pulled back the tent flap and looked both ways around him, eyebrows drawn together.

There was the sound of coughing and clanging of metal adjacent to Dave's right, and the knight jerked his head in the direction of the noise, instantly catching a whiff of the gray ash produced by the heavy fire. Sir Strider coughed himself then and took a step back, bumping into a red-painted metal tin behind him.

The tin wobbled a bit before eventually losing the battle for balance and toppling over. Alarmed by the sound of things hitting metal, Dave turned his torso so that he could look behind him. Upon recognition of the merchandise the tin held, Sir Strider's eyes lit up with delight as memories of his childhood flooded his vision.

"Holy shit—little tyke swords!" the knight exclaimed and lifted one wooden sword high into the air, turning it around and around in examination. "Aw man I haven't seen one of these since I was a little guy!" the knight laughed and looked down to find one with a red hilt, when all of a sudden, a deep voice echoed at the back where the ash had come from, successfully interrupting his reverie.

"Excuse me Sir—knight?—but may I ask of you to refrain from using certain words inside my shop? 'Little tykes' do wander in here sometimes, and I don't imagine that their parents would be too pleased to hear you use such vulgar language" said the gruff voice and Dave, a little ticked at how the guy was talking to him, whipped around and pointed his wooden sword in the man's direction.

"Okay man, calm down. I was just having a moment with the kiddie swords. And there's no one in here so you don't have to tell me what I already know." The knight could see that the buff owner was slightly unnerved at Dave's action, the gleam of sweat just barely noticeable in the light of the fire behind the dark-skinned man. Now that the man was illuminated by it, Sir Strider could make out his strong features and straight black hair that hung just down to his shoulders. Oh was he tall, too, just like the lanky Johnny boy (Sir David did not approve of being smaller than the goofy boy).

The blacksmith made a grunt of irritation at Sir David's response, but nonetheless let the knight be in favor of returning to his current sword-molding. It was a project meant for one of the King's eight sons, so this was not a job to be taken lightly—he would have to give it his all.

During this, the knight had come to the final conclusion that he would purchase the little tyke sword along with one of the blacksmith's premade battle swords (Sir David lacked the patience to wait for a custom-made one). "A-hem," Sir Strider coughed to announce his need for the tall man's assistance, who, of course, turned to at least acknowledge the foul-mouthed customer.

"How may I help you, Sir?"

"Sir Strider."

"Sir Strider?" the tall man corrected himself to humor the customer while crossing his arms, fully turning this time to give the knight his "full" attention.

"I require one of your swords you have hanging up on that wall there" Sir David responded—ignoring the obvious emphasis on his name—while pointing at the wall behind the stone table that the blacksmith's current project laid on.

Inclining his head to look back at this wall, the blacksmith scoured the hanging contents with a vague sense of which ones the knight would particularly be interested in. "And what on this wall catches your eye, Sir Strider?" the dark-skinned man asked, yet still looked on at the wall, trying to decide which red-themed sword would look best strapped to Sir David's side.

"Alright, I'll be claiming that velvet beauty you got up there in all her crimson glory" the knight said and jerked his head upward, red eyes staring over and reflecting back in the sword's smelted iron blade. "Along with this little guy here." Sir Strider waved the child-sized wooden sword back-and-forth in the stale air beside him, a smirk playing on his lips at the blacksmith's flinch.

"Pay mind to the children that walk in here, Sir; maidens do not approve of distasteful behavior such as yours." The blacksmith faced away from the vivacious knight and stepped around the stone table, heading for the sword of desire to remove it from its place on the wall of success and hand on over to Sir David.

"Hardly 'maidens' now."

"Excuse me?" setting down the blade to lay on the bear-skin coated wooden table in front of the knight, the blacksmith crossed his arms and scrutinized the pale man.

"Well what I'm just saying is that if they have children, those women are no longer 'maidens'" the knight shrugged his shoulders while the blacksmith furrowed his brows, and then patted his left side for his coin pouch.

"I was referring to the few maiden that often peer inside here at my young warrior patrons" the blacksmith uncrossed his arms and watched the knight with a newfound irritation, anxious for the customer to leave already and be on his merry way. Didn't he have some royal duty? Well he was certainly not upholding it very well if so. "That will be twelve gold coins."

"Hiding your mistake behind what is obviously a false security. I heard that quiver. You need to work on your game, Smith." Sir Strider gave up on trying to detach the sack, and instead simply sifted through the contents until he had retrieved the appropriate amount to give the blacksmith. "Here you go, Smith. Looks like you could use the business."

Face reddening in anger, the blacksmith closed his fingers around the small fortune placed into his palm and narrowed his deep blue eyes at the infuriating knight. "Do not call me 'Smith.' My name is Equius, if you must call by name. 'Smith' is very disrespectful not only to me, but to the blacksmith trade as a whole and I will not stand for it in my shop. It would be in your best interest to leave now, Sir Strider. I hope you have a wonderful day despite the dreary weather."

Pretending not to notice the sarcasm in the blacksmith's voice, Sir David picked up the velvet beauty and, in a torpid motion, tucked it into the empty leather sheath on his right side. After that, he slid the wooden sword behind the red strap around his waist in hopes that it would stay snug, kept in-place by a slight turn of the hilt to prevent slipping through. All this was done while staring down this "Equius," not once breaking contact—not even to blink. "Little advice," the knight said while still holding his gaze. "Drop the attitude-affected temper—you'll experience a dramatic increase in business if you do."

"What do you know ab—"

"See you again some other day, my meaty companion!" the knight cut the blacksmith off while waving him off, and then ducked underneath the door flap and disappeared into the gray light.

Equius could make out the gleeful neigh of what must have been a well-bred horse, and then there was only the sound of the crackling fire from the melting hearth.

"NO! You mustn't tell Anastasia about this, Iia! It is Crimelda's direct orders, and you know that no one disobeys Crimelda" the tall pointy-faced woman expressed her feelings toward the matter dramatically to the shorter female, who responded with a frown while fixing her messy blonde bun.

"You don't think I know that, Mefrei? I'm having enough time trying to sort out how best to handle this…this mistake as best I can, and your lectures are only giving me a headache" Iia snapped at the tall maid. "I just…can't believe we just krilled a gil…oh Lord in heaven now I'm even talking like the Queen!"

The sound of a slap resonated down the hallway, but Aradia could care less by now since her answer was already found: the girls had really done the deed, and the widow wasn't just imagining the informal burial session she had the misfortune of witnessing. She had her information, now all she had to do was alert the queen.

But…did she really want to do that? Yes, it was great to get back at Crimelda finally, but squealing was such a horrible thing. Yet…this all seemed so familiar. In fact, hadn't the seer just warned of something like this the previous day? How eerie. As freaky as it was, the new maid did not have time to fret over such things as Crimelda came into view around the corner bend, stopping Aradia in her tracks into a slow walk, hands busy with fixing her bun as a distraction. Although it didn't change the suspicious look that the evil maid gave her, at least she had no reason to actually question her about her odd reaction. Instead, Crimelda simply lifted her nose high into the air as she walked on by the widow, who in turn shook her head at the "princess."

There was the mahogany doors now, beckoning the widow to open them and relay her message like the scribe does every day. With little time to contemplate whether she honestly wanted to do this or not, Aradia pushed open the double doors and stumbled on in, all out of breath and disheveled. And there sat the young queen in her regal glory, staring over at the new maid with wide, curious eyes that had her frozen in place. Yes, this was really happening now, and there was no way of going back. Taking in a deep breath to calm herself, Aradiella took two tentative steps forward, legs shaking and eyes darting around the room like a mad woman. The queen, paying no mind to this, folded her hands in her lap and raised one eyebrow at her new maid's distress. "I…"

"What did you sea, guppy? Your bun is a fish egg nest!" the queen giggled, adding humor to the dark tension in the room.

"Your majesty," Aradia whisper-shouted, stumbling forward to fall to her knees before the queen, although it was a little too far from her throne. "Something…is not right" she muttered, and then her whole body shuddered. Confusion had taken over the queen's previously soft features, and she leaned forward in her throne seat, the jewels of her headdress dangling in the process and her dress tumbling down the edge of her seat.

"Do not fear me, Aradia. I am here for you" the queen said then with a warm smile, calmly urging the girl to share whatever disturbing information she was withholding. "Tell me what ails you, and I promise to bring you security."

Gulping the saliva, the widow gave a nod of her head, and then took a deep breath that she released in one long, shaky sigh before meeting the queen's distressed gaze. "It's not that I don't want to tell you, my queen, it's just hard to get the words out, but…there's been a death. Untimely. Cruel; for power." Aradia bit her lip then, preparing herself to go on even as the seer's words resounded in her mind: If you should choose to squeal like a pig, then you will be rewarded dutifully. Was she "squealing like a pig" now? It sure felt like she was. "Crimelda, she—she killed a girl. One of your special maids…I'm so sorry!" the new maid cried and covered her face with her small hands covering her face. "I'm so sorry…buried her, they put her in the Earth, the sweet Earth…garden…" Aradiella continued to stammer out, though the words were broken up now and could hardly be considered cognitive answers. Through this mental struggle that Aradia was facing, the queen stood from her throne and crossed over to the double doors, her empress-like dress brushing past the rocking maid.

"I will swim back shortly, guppy. The guards will watch the door while you…" Queen Feferi bit her bottom pink lip, then shook her head and exited, heading for the murderous maids most likely.

Aradia sat there on the hard floor, a cold draft blowing over her even though it was summertime. She wrapped her arms around her legs and sobbed, her face buried into her knees. The whole scene reminded her of when her husband was buried in the yard, and though she had no problem with death before, this whole murder reminded her of why she was at the castle in the first place: to escape her own murderers.

This was the first time that Aradia had considered leaving her new home.

"My queen, it is an honor to be offered this, er, position, but I don't think this dress suits me…and you really don't want me in the ladies' room" Aradia said with a crooked smile, looking over at the queen with pleading eyes. The dress truly was hideous, and the widow honestly did not want to attend to a queen while she did her business—that was just degrading (although the others clearly didn't think so)! The widow lifted up the sides of the dress and frowned at the light pink apron coupled with the fuchsia under frills and puffy sleeves. It was a pink nightmare, to say the least.

Feferi giggled at her statement and simply waved her hand in dismissal, the other covering her mouth daintily as she swallowed her omelet piece. "Guppy, don't be such a humble pearl! You deserve the position, and I wouldn't have it any otter wave!" the queen grinned at her and clapped her hands, imploring the other maids that sat at the table to join her, although Crimelda and her gang of murderers weren't exactly feeling the spirit in their new black dresses. (Since Aradia had much more free time on her now, she decided that she would abscond to Kanaya's work room later to avoid any encounters with the gang.)

"Also, I have a special request for you later, guppy!" Queen Feferi chimed in her chipper tone, and something about the twinkle in her eye had Aradia thinking that this wasn't something she wanted the other maids to know about, and that alone kind of scared her. "I'll carp with you aboat it during my after-breakfast pearl break, ocray?" Although the queen had posed it as a question, the widow knew that there was only one answer anyways, so she simply nodded whilst reclaiming her seat (even though her appetite was officially lost due to Crimelda's consistent glaring).

"Now what were you telling me aboat before, Anastasia?"

Once all the happy chatter had subsided and the plates cleaned, the dishes maids rose from their seats and went to the kitchen to gather the necessary cleaning supplies, although they didn't leave without some plates stacked high in their hands first. The queen waited for her other maids to stand and make for the door before she rose from her seat at the head of the table and walked over to meet Aradia, who bowed to her respectively. "Oh! No need for that guppy!" she said with a laugh like a bunch of chimes blowing in the wind. "Let's get this business crackin' now, shell we, heehee?" Queen Feferi patted Aradiella on the back and led her toward the double doors, her other bathroom maid following suite. "Ah, Oprenoi" Feferi said in a plain tone. "You are to be our door maid today, ocray?" The widow hated it when the queen ended her demands in questions like that, as if to put a more innocent tone to her orders to keep the mood light (but at the same time, she couldn't really blame her; at least she was trying to be friendly with her servants).

When they were inside the tiled room, behind the pink curtain, Aradia had to help lift the queen's voluptuous dress as she lowered her behind into a squat above the silver circle vase (yes, royals pooped in silver vases, who would've guessed? Aradiella mused with a snicker). With red blotches adorning her pale cheeks, the widow looked the other way to give Queen Feferi at least some decency while she released her bladder, although she unfortunately could not avoid hearing the sound the liquid made as it impacted the silver bottom. As if this torture was not enough, Feferi took it upon herself to start up conversation even as she was doing her business. Dear Lord in heaven this was not happening right now, the new bathroom maid thought, cheeks darkening.

"I minnow that you're newt and all, Aradia, but you have already proved yourself to be somefish of trust, and for that I respect you. Because of this, I wish to reward you beta than even this: you've been chosen to be my best frond at the Grand Ball! Isn't that EXCITING?!" she squee'd at the girl and clapped through her strain to hold her squat, and then rose to three quarters of her full height, ready for a wiping. "Hand me the cloth now, would you please, guppy?"

Momentarily confused by the queen's strange request, Aradia had a mental delay that she had to shake out of in order to focus on finding this cloth that shouldn't be too hard to find, if she reused it that was (yuck). And there it was: a white-and-gold-lined cloth hanging from a metal bar, just out of the widow's reach. She cursed under her breath and stared at the bundle of dress in her hands. Maybe if she just raised her arm higher and stretched the dress out like a drape, she could reach the cloth…

It was a serious stretch indeed, but the widow had finally managed to succeed in her current task, and had handed the cloth to the queen. "My queen," Aradia started nervously. "Here is the cloth you requested." She hoped that Feferi wasn't going to make her do the dirty work (oh no)…! But Queen Feferi merely smiled at her and retrieved the cloth by hand, only to reach down and—Aradiella turned her head the other way, cheeks darkening all over again in record timing. "So um, what you meant by me being your 'best friend,' did you literally mean for me to act as an acquaintance of yours at this fancy ball? If so, I'd have to deny because I am merely a servant of yours and am not worthy of such an honor" or farce play, the new maid hummed anxiously.

"Oh dear! Please don't turn me down! You reely are the best fish I could ask! And besides, it's knot that great of a position: all you have to do is swim on by me every now and then and flash your pretty white pearls to the sharks!" the queen giggled while passing the cloth back to Aradia, who pinched it at the tip and tossed it at the "soiled rags" pot, face scrunched up all the while.

"Now let's get out of this hole, shell we?"

Days had passed since that first bathroom discussion with the queen, and yet every bathroom meeting afterward had not ended in Aradia's favor; Queen Feferi was a stubborn woman indeed! Why couldn't she see that the widow wanted nothing to do with this "best friend" position she spoke of?

Her final answer came in the form of a red dress, one that seemed oddly familiar to Aradia yet a completely new creation at the same time. She just couldn't place her finger on the reference.

It was two hours before the Grand Ball when Aradia began to get a sense of the meaning of her dress after she was handed the shoes to match and it was safe to say that she was scared, afraid of what path this event was going to take her down. Some fish was swimming too close to the surface in that queen's head, and the widow didn't like its prospect.

"May I present you with a fresh glass, Madame?" one of the guests had caught on to Aradia's exclusion from the current gathering around the queen and had decided to pester her. The widow, being who she is, returned good manners by giving him a smile, but chose to decline this offer and move on to better scenery. For instance, the conversation between Sir Strider and the royal scribe was of a unique caliber, Aradiella thought, and so she sauntered on over to earn an invitation to join them.

"But I thought that you liked shrimp!" the scribe laughed and dangled a piece in front of the knight's face.

"No no, you read me wrong John; just because I live in fish-villa doesn't mean I like those pink creatures" Sir Strider responded whilst whacking the shrimp out of sight. It flew into the air for a moment before landing in a duchess' glass. They shared a laugh that would have brought Aradia into the conversation since she chimed in with them, had the queen not come up from behind her to request her presence.

"Aradia, may I speak with you in my quarters?"

"So what is it that's boggling your mind, my queen?" the widow questioned her once the door was shut and they sitting on the edge of the bed. "More specifically, why must we discuss this in total private? There are other maids outside the thick doors that you can also confide in; I'm sure they're trustworthy. Oh, have you perchance found a respectable suitor to take the vacant throne?" Aradia said with raised brows.

"You see that's actually one of the things I wanted to talk about with you, Aradia" the queen responded and placed a hand on the widow's closest thigh, cheeks tinting pink ever-so-slightly. She averted her gaze a moment later. "But uh, it's also kind of hard for me to bring up…"

The fact that the queen had stopped implementing those weird fish puns into her dialogue meant that she was being serious, which of course prompted Aradia to lighten the mood by suggesting one of the most ridiculous prospects. "Is it that blue hat-wearing duke?" she teased with a nudge of her elbow, but then regretted it the second after she did so. What was she doing acting like she was the queen's legitimate "best friend?"

"Oh, no! No no no no no!" the queen shook her head and even took her hand away to cover her face with both. "Oh Aradia, you're waaaay out of the water here." Queen Feferi sighed whilst sliding both hands down to her lap in one slow, intermittent motion. "I know this is going to sound off the wall at first, but I need you to at least think it over—and most important of all, don't say anything to anyone…please!" she reached out her hand again and looked at the widow with glistening eyes. Aradia felt a frown coming on, but suppressed the urge and stared on at Feferi with a studious face. "I promise you that I'm hardly anything like the prior queen, but what I did respect her for is her bravery to publicly be with Aranea, even for the short time it was…" she swallowed and glanced down at her hands. "What I'm trying to get at here is that—at least I think this is what it is—I like you more than a servant, which is wrong, yet it feels right to me. And I want to be able to express these eelings—oops I let a pun slip—with you" the queen hiccupped at the end, and then slapped herself across the face for doing so. "I'm so sorry!" she exclaimed and looked away, fanning herself with her hands all the while. "Oh that was so hard to do" she muttered to herself, probably wishing to be heard but unfortunately Aradia was gone mentally. At least, for the moment she was.

I believe that the dress is meant for a very special servant, one that is worthy of entering her personal quarters. Alone. These words echoed in Aradia's mind, and she not had no doubt on where she'd first seen the dress she currently wore. Oh, what a fool she had been! To unintentionally lead a queen on…it felt like such a crime! It wasn't her fault, yet she felt it was at the same time, which made it far, far worse. There had to be some way around this, yet there wasn't any better option than to accept presented to her, at least not at that moment. "Oh, uh…" she uttered, drawing a blank.

"I-I mean you don't have to respond right away, but can I at least kiss you?" the queen spluttered and leaned closer to Aradia as if to draw more attention to the idea. So the widow let her do as thus, but she felt too wrong mentally to appreciate the warmth of the queen's lips on hers, and how truly soft they were compared to her deceased husband's.

"May I be excused to your latrine briefly?" the widow burst out the second the queen had pulled away.

"Oh…well, do you need me to hold your dress?"

"Oh no! I mean, that is not something a queen should be doing, your highness. Kindly excuse me" Aradia responded with a curtsey, to which Queen Feferi clapped in delight.

"Alright well go on then! I'll just twiddle my thumbs, eh-hee-hee."

Aradiella didn't actually have to use the restroom. No, she just wanted to escape that awkward situation and sort through her muddled thoughts to eventually come to a conclusion. Under normal circumstances, this would take hours—but Aradia only had a few minutes and so far, the open window was looking like the beginnings of a great idea.

Surely the men would have ceased their search for her by now, right?

Hand and foot to each tiny crevice between the gray stones, Aradiella Megido climbed her way down to the shrubbery below all the way from the fourth floor, and though she slipped midway to the first, the bushes weren't so hard from that height. Aradia crept around the castle and slipped out of the drunken knights' sight down the bridge to the market district, and ran as fast as her bruised feet could take her into the silent night.