Dear Mirror, It's Time For This To Stop

I shed myself of the obnoxious dress and almost killed myself with the ferocity that I used to shred the laces of the corset.

I was never putting it back on. That's final. As true as the previous fact, I'm also considering throwing it into the flames of the morn.

I glanced to the mirror and looked at the low ponytail my tresses had been in ever since I left the tower.

Then it all crashed down.

The realization of it all hit me in the chest like a two-ton brick making me breathlessly stumble over my own two feet. I steadied myself against the bed post and sagged heavily against it as I was suddenly unable to break eye contact with the little one staring me down in the glassy surface. She was speaking to me, whispering harsh truths, and reminding me of my purpose. Telling me my place.

My heart screamed for her to stop, tears filling my vision profusely. But the salty tears stopped on the edge, for the more calculating side of me took hold and made it perfectly clear that she was right. That I was right. The facts are staring me in the face, their gazes unwavering, I can't not listen to them. The truth of the matter is that I'm slowly becoming more familiar with this crowd, with this lifestyle, with this world so different from the one I belong in. I don't belong here. No matter how hard I want to fool myself, I should already know that it'll all end exactly as it did eight years ago: with me leaving.

I went rigid, pulled taut like a rubber band, in an instant. There are many reasons for me to come, and staying was not one of them, it's not what I ever intended to do.

I don't like it!

I won't change my mind so late in the game. I refuse adamantly. Profusely. Stubbornly. I'm putting my foot down.

Just forget your pride already!

I watched my expression sag sadly in the mirror as my younger version faded away and was once again the ugly person that belonged there. I'm slowly coming to the point of where I don't want to leave. No matter how hard I try to ignore it, the voice screaming in the back of my head telling me to stay— to go— I can't ignore either, making me a very conflicted presence to this earth. I've finally met Sofia and got along famously with her; Cedric and I are still the sparring duo we were before I left; and I'm slowly growing more accustomed to being in Roland's presence.

Three down. Only but a few to go before I leave again. No if, and's, or but's about it.

I still need to connect with Miranda and figure out the ever elusive Amber— and then there's the small matter involving an angry prince.

I sighed and flopped into my bed, now in the loose gown designated for sleep. My arms down by my sides and my face buried deeply into a pillow, it's there that I groaned loudly in frustration, the sound barely escaping as a muffled purr.

I pulled my arms up and placed them beneath me, propping up my head so that I could break the depravity of oxygen.

Sofia told me to talk to the little Roland look-alike, but would that really work? Do boys talk? Better question, do they listen? Will he bother with even listening to my poor excuse of an apology? I highly doubt it, to be completely and utterly honest. He'd probably combust at the idea of having a heart-to- heart conversation with me. Am I being pessimistic? You bet your—

Then it hit me, breaking my soliloquy mid-sentence: If I learned anything from growing up with Roland as a role model, it's that boys like action.

I had to take action if I was ever going to get through to him.

I had to physically make this up to him.

I flopped back into position and groaned for the second time, also perhaps the first of many more to come, as I came to a conclusion.

There's only one way to go about it.

I have to, one, go to his flying derby practice.

And, two, also probably the worst thing I've had to do as of yet in my little reacquaintance excursion, I have to… unfortunately...

I have to fly a stupid horse.

I slid into my loose fitting skirt peacefully starting my day with a small hum of my voice— the gown greatly pleased me, for it lacked any significant fluff and fit rather nicely for the physical actions that I had planned for my day.

Not to mention the bodice was snug and stiff enough that I didn't have to wear the stupid corset.

I looked at myself in the mirror and almost disregarded my naked scalp. The locks were wound up elegantly and tightly as to not let any strands fly loose and it had acquired a tightness that I mistook for the feeling of wearing that special something.

I reminded myself of the disgusting syllables that went along with it: "Ti-ar-a. Can't possibly forget that, I'll never hear the end of it if I do." I muttered as I moved closer to the mirror with an odd stare of great intensity. I pursed my lips and looked at my sharp blue eyes, their piercing blue color much darker than plausible when thought of blue eyes, a deep color that look calm, calculating, and dangerous. I couldn't quite put my finger on what was so off about my expression until the fear gripped my heart and refused to unclench. It was intimidating. They were fearsomely knowing and terrifying. It's absolutely frightening. The foreign orbs widened in shock and, suddenly, the effect was gone. My lips thinned and I clenched my jaw in affirmation. My features were the complete opposite of Roland's and Tilly's. Whereas they inherited out mother's soft expressions and rounded features that put people on ease— I had gotten not only our father's sharp structure, from the pointed cheekbones to the smaller nose and naturally narrowed eyes, but his harsh expressions as well: deadly, unreadable, commanding, and alarming.

I looked at the maroon gown that dressed my slim figure. It was nicely designed so that it intentionally looked old. Like, renaissance old. I adjusted the low neck again to hide any unwanted skin and slid into my work boots that the skirt hid famously. I laced them up to my knees and realized with a bit of ironic amusement that I had neglected to put on stockings under my undershorts.

My lips thinned into a fine line as I studied the pale skin of my knees and debated what was to be done.

I threw the skirt back over my legs and slid out of the room with a satisfied smirk, a tiara perched on my crown and hair wound up into its tight bun once again. That's all they are going to get out of me today, I guarantee it. I smiled coolly and, with a little bit of a skip in my step, I made my way to the dining hall.

"Good morning Aunt Emilia!" I turned gracefully covering my mischievous streak as I discovered who else was making their way to the dining hall. I wasn't surprised to see Sofia waving brutishly once again. I stared at her with a hard expression before serenely smiling and waving to the girl racing to my side.

Amber followed suit at a much more appropriate speed.

She whipped out her fan and leered at me over the edge as she passed.

I blinked slowly, my expression remaining aloofly serene. I'm getting sick of this routine, an angry voice hissed in the back of my mind.

I smothered it, to say the least.

I followed the two girls confidently. Sofia, all the while, was looking between her sister and I, her confusion was as plain as day.

However, I feigned ignorance of either of their more-than-a-little-subtle actions as I entered the dining hall, dipping into a slight curtsy when I nearly toppled Miranda.

"Oh! There you three are. For a moment there I almost thought that you were going to skip breakfast too, Emilia." She sent me a knowing look.

I also assumed obliviousness of the fact that she obviously suspected me to being the reason her husband was brooding childishly at his seat. Fun Fact: Being a royal for most of your life makes you an impeccable actress when it comes down to playing ingenuous.

I smiled pleasantly. "You see, that would be highly unlikely, for I am far too hungry after the lack of a meal last night."

She looked at me one last time skeptically before a calm smile graced her lips. "Indeed your logic is fair."

"Miranda! Not you too!" King Roland whined. "It's bad enough that my little sister speaks so that I can barely understand her, but my queen as well." He was sulking heavily at this point.

Miranda and I laughed at his actions. I had to take a moment and lower the tempo to which I was laughing to watch Miranda's bright eyes and miraculous smile. She was so happy, being up on the throne, and not being ridiculed.

It made me think of the previous queen— my mother.

Then there was a pang of guilt at my comparing Queen Miranda with my mother— who she was obviously not— and I shook my head as if to chase away the depressing thoughts.

"I never did ask. But why are you, for the lack of a better word, sulking?" I asked my brother as I took my rightful seat by his side, Miranda residing respectfully to the other.

His eyes drooped like a sad dog's as they drifted to my face. I noticed that he didn't even try to answer my question.

"Someone got into the jiggly-wiggly pudding last night, left us next to none this morning." James bit out severely, his eyes not breaking from the eggs he was shoveling into his mouth.

I looked at him and suddenly felt scared to return acknowledgment to his words. But I fought the fear by nonchalantly resting my chin onto my hand and leaning in closer to his side of the table. "Can't the cooks just make more?"

He didn't respond. Didn't even look up.

"I mean," I smiled deviously, "if they can, I wouldn't mind bringing some to the derby practice this afternoon." I offered wistfully.

His arm froze, fork poised midway to his mouth. I saw the muscles in his arm tense and the veins in his neck twitch. I raised an eyebrow, a bit proud of myself.

It appears that I had struck a chord.

"You would forget." He said sharply as he finished the trail the fork was making to his mouth.

"I've never forgotten anything." That felt false the moment it left my lips, but I brushed it off without any more than a second thought.

"Then you're a liar." He countered, not glancing my way.

"I'm human." I hissed lowly as I turned to my own food. "I am physically incapable to fight some urges."

He slammed his fork down and turned to me, bristling with anger. "What does that mean?!" He yelled.

"James!" Roland scolded, startled by the sudden outburst.

I suspect that in his sulking and Miranda's soothing, neither of them had caught the beginning of our conversation.

I took a cool bite of my own porridge, slightly pleased with myself.

He waited, his angry gaze showing signs of uncertainty behind clouded emotions.

"Oh, you didn't know?" I played the innocent card. "I was physically exhausted. Your commanding me around and activating the curse on a whim for the past two days wore me out." I bit out harshly, my eyes glaring daggers at the little boy.

"Emilia!" Roland stood up obviously perturbed by our exchange.

"Sit down, Roland." My voice rang out a sharply as a knife.

He hesitantly sat down, his expression slightly fearful and cautious, but still hard and calculating: as if he were processing what could possibly going on between his child and sister.

"I wish to get along with all of you, after all that was my original purpose, but it seems to me that you don't quite get it yet. I am not going to suck up to you to earn your respect!" I cried indignantly. "Watch your mouths, your expressions, and your mannerisms, children. I am your aunt. Your elder. And I deserve as much respect as you can offer. I tried to give you a chance to do it the easy way, your own way, but no more of this. I am trying my hardest but, the next time someone yells out an order brashly at me, I'm leaving. I am leaving and I'm not coming back. You want me to leave? Tell me it to my face and I will comply gladly. Got it?"

I made sure to make sure to look between Amber and James evenly, and not too quickly to the point that I looked stupid.

They both gulped fearfully and nodded in affirmation.

I noticed Roland doing the same out of the corner of my eye and shot him a confused look. "What are you quivering for?" I asked sharply.

"Y-you always scare me when you get like t-that." He muttered, his cheeks flashing red.

I sighed exasperatedly and noticed Miranda watching me, pride fluttering in her eyes. I looked away abruptly, my own cheeks dusting red.

I looked away, that is, only to be met with the children's eyes.

Sofia's were wide, unreadable, but definitely shocked; James was as flustered as his father; and Amber watched me with a careful eye, as if trying to figure me out without setting off another bomb.

I didn't even realize that I had made a slip of the tongue. I didn't even notice that I had said 'curse' aloud.

And none of the children were planning on confronting me on it anytime soon.

What a smart bunch they are.

If only I had realized it sooner.

I figured walking through the gardens was my best option when it came to entertaining myself and keeping a careful eye on the time. And what better way than that of watching the goddess of time herself, the sun?

Plus, it's not exactly likely that I'll get bored in gardens such as these. Lost, maybe.

I bent and looked in the eyes of a peculiar butterfly, studying the patterns along its painted wings. Caligo memnon? I pondered for a moment, or Caligo oileus? There's no doubt in it's being an owl butterfly but the species' markings have always been too hard to distinguish.

I was startled from my calculating thoughts by the impatience of the being that I held as he flew up into the sky and into some trees, disappearing from my disappointed view.

I stood back up and watched where it had drifted to and wandered that way as well— not particularly chasing it, but not wanting it to get away either. It was then that I crossed paths with the foreboding well father always was careful to keep hidden. Long ago there had been an incident with the wooden door and now there resided a metal gate.

No, I was not supposed to know of its existence. But if anyone has learned anything by now, I did a lot of things I was never supposed to— I do a lot of things that I'm not supposed to is more like it.

My steps halted outside the gate, no real desires to enter allowing my fingers to ghost over the frame nostalgically.

Riding a horse is about to become another, I added coldly.

A few days after the whole derby incident, Roland came home from school in a broody mood. He brushed past his mother silently and nearly shoved Tilly to the ground when she stopped him and demanded that he explain his childish tantrum.

The boy merely glared at the youngest one of their family with such venom that their mother called out in umbrage, before he stomped out of the room.

No one really knew what that was all about.

Later that evening, a still-moody Roland sat out in the gardens, kicking up a flower here and there and throwing any rocks he could pick up. Emilia stood in her gown, her little fingers plastered to the window that overlooked the garden.

"Miss?" The maid behind her called out gently, but reservedly, no one dared to encourage the littlest princess to do anything for fear of suffering at the hands of the king's wrath. He was a good man, a strong hand holding up the kingdom and someone worthy of relying on, until you upset him. And it seemed the only thing that could ever upset him was when it involved his children, the youngest especially.

She remained silent as she tore her gaze from her angry brother and crawled from the little seat she had perched upon in order to reach it. She looked into the maid's eyes for an unnervingly still moment and the young woman looked away nervously.

Emilia climbed into the bed, blew out the candles, and snuggled in comfortably, dismissing the nursemaid before she could even lift a finger in assistance.

The littlest girl waited, eyes closed, and lips slowly counting the steps of the maid as she descended the hallway. She waited a few more moments after complete silence and threw the blanket away from her lap.

Feet tossed over the edge of the bed, she landed with a muffled thump. Little Emilia grabbed a small shawl and threw it around her shoulders as she made her way, barefoot, over to her door. She peeked it open and stuck her head through, looking both ways before using the power she held over the shadows, and skulking through the hall to the nearest exit leading to the garden.

She, knowing the gardens even better than the ones that maintained its vegetation, crawled through bushes and slid through the smallest openings to get to where she had seen the sulky boy heading. Still barefoot, she didn't make much a sound and didn't have to worry about getting caught because of how easy it was for her lithe frame to be silent.

She had had plenty of practice in the area and tactics of sneaking around.

This left her mind to other tasks; such as wondering as to what in the world her brother was doing outside so late. She came across the giant wooden door that always remained locked, for their father knew of her activities of sneaking around and startling the palace employees— just because he knew of them doesn't mean he liked it and refused to try and stop her.

This time she was startled to be met with such an extraneous sight.

The door was swung open and a key was still jammed into the lock. Sidling up to it, and looking very much like an animal in the way she skulked around, Emilia slid the key out of the lock and into her pocket.

She wasn't usually a thief, it's just that it might seriously come in handy later, like, perhaps in another escape attempt? She doesn't know how Roland got it but she knew he wasn't supposed to have it either, therefore, he can't report it as stolen or anything. Stealing from the thief is a good moral code, right?

She paused as she was just about to waltz into the little hedge-incased room, for that's what is was, with a large well jutting out in the very middle. Had she just entered blindly, her brother would no longer be blind to her tracking and trailing him.

But, upon careful examination, this was no mere well. Emilia hugged the door as she peered around it more than a little obviously, watching the golden glow against her brother's face as he peered down it, his amazement not the least bit concealed by his expression. Its golden glow alarmed the little princess a great deal.

There suddenly was a thunk of something small being submerged in water and the well erupted with an eerie voice. It was a poem that Emilia, who was not accustomed to magic, couldn't quite comprehend: something about three wishes and riches.

Was that a coin that he dropped into the water? Emilia thought as she came out from behind the door, fully visible, that is, if her brother decided to turn around. Unlikely at this point, she deduced, and useless even if he bothered, I've already seen all that's going to happen.

His small shoulders shook with excitement as he pondered the possibilities, he muttered to himself like a mad man.

'He's a teenager, he's allowed to be a little mad.' She remembered her mother assuring her once.

She didn't really understand it then, but now…

It was perfectly clear.

Emilia's expression became sad as she listened to her brother's voice, his statement beginning with 'I wish' as expected, but the rest belonging in a dreadfully depressing category: A villain's.

He wished to be king. He wished that that little sister of his didn't get power that she didn't deserve. That tradition would run truer and stronger just for another few years. That the oldest, firstborn son is the heir. He deserves to be king. He worked hardest for it.

It wasn't quite the same as a villainous demand out of greed. He genuinely meant it from the heart. He really did deserve it.

Emilia agreed. She voiced it as so, sadly, slowly, but clearly.

He spun on his heel, his eyes wide in horror as he looked her up and down, not sure of what to do at this point.

"You really do deserve to be king. You don't back down, you can hold your own, you're smart, and, better yet, you don't have to follow every command given to you, you don't have to be taken advantage of." She repeated, not sure if his shocked expression was getting more enraged or if that was her imagination.

He suddenly narrowed his eyes, his scowl deepening as if sharpening and directing his hate towards her. "This is your fault you know. For being so perfect. Everyone at school thinks dad is making the right decision by making you the ruler of this kingdom."

Her face fell in acknowledgment. "I know. I'm perfect to the onlooking eye, it's designed as so." Neither of them had to elaborate what this 'it' was. "But it isn't me." She broke in suddenly, shocking Roland more than a little with the revelation. "The moment I get the crown I'm going to be at the mercy of all of those commanding gazes. I won't be a ruler but a face for the people to look at, to look up to, while I'm just falling mercy to the words around me." She paused and looked at her feet sadly. "You didn't have to do that you know."

"Do what?" He asked, not sure of how else to respond.

"Waste one of your precious wishes on something like that. Dad's smart. A little slow in this case with his logic, but he'll figure it out eventually. That I've been useless since this… curse was placed." She spat the word curse with such venom that Roland visibly recoiled in shock, anger residing in the back of his mind as confusion took a strong hold. "Even if he doesn't realize it, mother has. The sadness in her eyes every time he lights up at the idea of having an obedient child as an heir. She keeps quiet now, but she does care about the kingdom and she will put up heck of a fight before I become ruler." She grabbed her elbow and looked away sharply.

"Why are you telling me this?" He croaked.

"I don't know. It just seems so sad for you to live bitterly because of something that isn't even going to happen." She looked at him, her chin dipped submissively. "I also planned on passing the crown on to my older brother if none of the things happened like I'd theorized."

That dropped the weight in his stomach like no other. Be it guilt? He wondered.

She called him her older brother, she still sees him as that? And, more importantly, someone taking the crown from her is one thing, but passing it on before she even gives it a chance is another entirely. She saw him as more than a presence but a better ruler than herself? Guilt overridden, his anger flared like a fire with gallons of fuel.

He erupted, spouting useless crap at her, insult after insult, and so much more. She didn't even flinch and he couldn't take it when a small, accepting smile formed on her lips.

He lunged, pushed past her, knocking her to the ground, and took off running to his room.

Emilia looked at the well. "So many possibilities."

She could even take the curse away and rule the kingdom herself. She'd be lying if she said that the thought wasn't highly tempting.

She reached out to run her fingers along the well's stone sides, but stopped millimeters from the cold material. She grabbed the key in her pocket, fisting it tight enough for her knuckles to turn white, she turned, grabbing the wooden door's handle.

She pulled it closed behind her and, with a sigh, locked it.

Roland needs it more than I do.

I looked at the sky and realized that it was about time for the academy to let out so I made my way back to the castle. As I hiked I couldn't help but let myself smile with a bit of excitement at the prospect of doing something as fun as derby riding.

Kids could be mean, but there were still benefits that came from them.

I climbed through the glass door that led out from the patio and nearly crashed into Baileywick in the hallway.

"Whoa there!" I laughed slightly as I steadied the petit man by the shoulders. I took the little container from his fingers and thanked him liberally before taking off once again, heading towards a predestined location.

I found my way to the front of the castle where the stablemen were just finishing up with the tedious tasks of readying the carriage as I had requested of them also this morning. My heart caught in my throat as I raised my foot to the step that assisted my climbing in, and, I hesitated.

I received a concerned look from the carriage driver and waved off the look as I pushed through my fear and climbed into the compartment, sagging heavily in my seat once completely in. I felt the dread creep into my system and evaporate into suffocating excitement as the carriage set into motion.

I never did particularly care for the aspect of royalty that involved Pegasi flying the carriage: the physics of it were shaky at best and provided little acceptance of error. If we happened to slow down, the carriage compartment would drop in altitude. Consistently speeding does not make thing easier for steering, despite belief.

I took a deep breath that rattled my being and closed my eyes to allow for the shakiness of my body to end.

I had no such luck of calming myself down.

I tumbled out of the carriage the moment I felt it halt in its movements and stood up without assistance as I brushed myself off.

It was then that the massiveness of the academy truly rained down upon my bones.

Did I ever mention that I never got to the school my older siblings did? One, it wasn't as highly recommended as it is nowadays and, two, we hired private tutors and had a more-than-adequate library. Give me my lesson plans for the day and I'll be able to take a test on all of them by the end of the week.

Roland never had the fascination with learning that I did and Tilly never found interest in studying by oneself, they didn't want to be 'stiffs' as kids call each other, so organized learning was ordained for them.

I wandered around the school, never going inside, the logic behind that being that they wouldn't be flying the Pegasi inside, now would they? And I must have been correct in the assumption because, not even five minutes later, I heard my name attached with stray comments about being surprised that I actually showed up— I chose to ignore them for the most part, there wasn't much animosity attached anyway.

"Hey Sofia, James!" Sofia smiled brightly at me and, to my greater surprise, James did as well. What a good natured kid, to be smacked back into place with just simple words and actions. "Where's Amber?"

They paused and looked behind them, as if they had expected her to follow. She still wasn't there.

"Prince Hugo." They both deadpanned.

This took me by surprise and I couldn't help the small amount of hysteria that seeped into my voice as my smile lost its happiness. "What?"

"Cheering him on…"

"Swooning over him…" James added with the disgusted gesture of sticking his tongue out.

I laughed in greater amusement than either of them could understand. Only, what, eight? Nine? And already flirting it up? Sure girls advance faster than boys but the boys can't already like that… Can they?

Then it hit me. A ten year old, give or take, has more luck in the relationship world than I. I felt my brow tick in annoyance. If he's a good guy I'm leaving.

"Emilia?"

"Hm?" I looked over at the little boy who looked like he wanted to say something but decided against it last minute and tried to cover it up by pointing to the little container in my fingers. I decided to let him have this one since I did recently scold him. Mend the bonds as they say.

I didn't want to tarnish an already soiled record.

"Ah, pudding. I did say I might bring some, didn't I?" He stared at me, no response in his expression. "I'm sure I did, but then again it could have been all in my head. I do talk to myself more often than the norm—"

"Aunty! Stop!" James yelled, jumping in front of me with his hands outstretched.

I felt my eyes widen as my lips form an embarrassed grimace and my muscles locked up at the command.

He and Sofia burst out laughing, Sofia doing a better job at hiding hers in little giggles behind her hands than her brother did by clutching his stomach and keeling over. I suspect they think I'm timid over my rambling, I suppose that's better than the alternative, than the truth.

"Greeeeaaattt." I rolled my eyes with a dry sense of humor, playing along. "Now I've got you guys laughing at me." I scratched at the back of my head as I looked away, embarrassment growing by the second.

"I'm sorry… It's just," James eyes sparkled with mirth that I had only thought Roland to be capable of, "you're much more realistic than I've heard."

I blinked, taken aback. "What you've heard?"

His eyes scrutinized me a bit longer before sighing and answering heavily. "Dad never really mentioned you, and I supposed it would have stayed that way had Aunt Tilly not accidentally brought you up in a side story. It really surprised her that we didn't know. You seemed so far off, like a myth."

I could help but chuckle at his logic. He's so much like Roland was.

Though, I won't admit this to the children, but the thought that their father neglected to even mention his little sister hurt me. It felt like he was disowning me, that he was embarrassed by me. I almost want to say that is scraps all of the progress I thought we had made.

"So when I asked dad about it and he outright refused to say anything, it put a bit of a wall between us for a while there. Amber and I began asking our friends and asking them to ask their parents and family members if they knew anything about our mysterious aunt. We got back a bunch of nothing." He looked straight ahead as we continued on towards the barns. "But then we did get something back."

"Such as?" I asked, trying, and failing, to hide my eagerness.

"It wasn't anything much. Just that Prince Gustav's mother remembered our grandfather having three children: Aunt Tilly, dad, and another much younger that she couldn't remember the name of. The youngest one was kept and pampered in the castle. She also remembered a whole bunch of rumors going around that our grandfather was going to break tradition because his youngest daughter was so much better suited for the throne."

"Oh." I didn't know what else to say. Was I to confirm his thoughts? Or deny it fervently? I couldn't lie to him, not again, but I really didn't want to make him angry either. It seemed very impossible though this time around, however, I wasn't sure what it was, but he seemed much more tempered than our previous exchanges exhibited.

I looked up as a horse snorted huffily, throwing my hair in disarray. I laughed as I planted a hand between the beast's ears scratching affectionately.

James looked up curiously as he realized that I had stopped moving and smiled in contented amusement at mine and the horse's antics. "That's Echo, he's mine to ride." He explained, much more lax than he was previously.

Suddenly, I realized we weren't with Sofia anymore, I slowly came across the realization that she had only come to greet me and then made her way back to a stouter horse to begin saddling him up.

Which means that she had missed our conversation about my origins. That's why she wasn't contributing her thoughts and questions!

"You know, James, it's not all my fault…" I muttered as I watched him lace up the saddle with a bit of strain in his expression.

"Is it true though?"

"Yeah." I answered curtly as I looked away.

"But then why did you leave?"

"Roland let me." I answered impulsively. I almost thought better of it, but it was too late to go back on my words.

I felt the air tense in realization.

"That means—" His voice was breathy as he turned towards me, halting in his work.

"That's enough." I commanded harshly, my eyes displaying a much weaker expression than I wish they would.

His jaw snapped closed. But I could see the pity.

I stood up and grabbed the saddle, giving it a shake. It was snug. "Good job at lacing it all up. I don't think it'll be going anywhere anytime soon."

"You want to ride?" He asked with a bit of a grin on his face.

"Are you teasing me?" I asked with comic indignation.

"Maybe." He laughed, my mind flashed back to a younger Roland in the exact same gesture. "But I'm also partially serious. I'm about twenty minutes faster at setting up than the other boys, so we have about that long until it's time to start. You said it yourself, I laced him up good. Are you saying that you lied to me?"

"You know that's not what I'm concerned with." I shot at him.

"Then why not?" He asked with a shrug.

I stared at him hard for a moment. The gesture was oddly knowing.

I suddenly had to crack a smile, a little bit of humor at his expense escaping me.

"What is it?" He asked, his eyes lighting up as if he wanted a good laugh as well.

"You know, a thought just hit me." I cleared my throat and looked down at him for a moment before swinging my leg over and sitting on the horse comfortably, casually almost. Echo didn't hardly seem to pay me any mind, instead taking to adjusting his feet into a more stable position to take in account for the extra weight upon his back. "You spent how long trying to find out about me. Searching through old records as well as asking around." I met his eyes, completely sure mine were shining in a mocking mirth. "When all you really needed to do was look under your own noses and ask Cedric about it."

James scowled. "Don't remind me. I was upset at seeing that the answers we searched so hard for were right there."

"Is that why you didn't like me at first blush?" I asked a bit too loudly.

"Not particularly. And I didn't 'not like you'. In fact I thought you were really cool. And I bragged… a bit. But then you didn't show up and I… I…"

"I'm sorry. I lost track of time and fell asleep." I adjusted as he took Echo's reigns and led us to the doorway of the stables.

"It's fine. I just wish…"

"That kids weren't so mean?" I offered, completely understanding.

"Exactly." He said slowly, looking as if he were seeing me for the first time. I cocked my head with a small frown, not quite understanding his expression.

He looked away sharply as soon as he realized that I was watching him watch me. "What is it?"

"Nothing." He was quiet.

I reciprocated with silence of my own.

"I have one last question." He tried as we reached the course, also being the first ones there. Just as he had said we would be.

"Shoot."

"Why are you and Cedric so close?"

I frowned at that one and took a moment to think of an answer that was truthful but also left as much out as possible.

I thinned my lips to the side as I reached a conclusion.

"Because Roland and I never were."

And, with a kick of my heels, I was off. My clouded thoughts surprisingly, and thankfully, not weighing Echo down.

Echo and I were both naturals: I, a natural rider and he, a natural ridden. It was swift, easy, and fun.

We navigated the course pretty easily and as fast as I could ever remember moving. The horse I had been on the only time before this had been older, slower, worn and, ergo, it was not as eventful. This time was on the whole other end of the spectrum.

I had to physically stop myself, biting my lip in result, from dishing out the whoops of laughter and excitement that rang within my being. I leaned forwards to stop the excited spasm that would send me off the back, unfortunately resulting in us going faster, and my excitement building further.

The skirt of my dress whipped wildly behind us, but the light fabrics keeping the whiplash to a barely noticeable minimum. We twisted this way and that so fast that I lost a couple of hair ties and my thick blonde locks trailed behind like flames of speed.

There're too many words and emotions flying through my head, heart, and chest for me to express my joy clearly at that moment. Let's just say that, while riding, there were some unaccounted for drops of rain below, the sky being perfectly clear.

I had gathered myself by the time we approached the bell tower. Originally, I had planned to skip this one because I wasn't sure if either Echo or I were really in any condition to attempt it…

But I couldn't help myself this time around.

We flew up, his muscular wings beating soundly at his side. I'm heavier than most of the others who have rode him have been, most definitely the heaviest he's ever tried to bring up the tower, and the pressure almost made us descend and call it quits— but suddenly there was a clack as Echo's hoof met the stone archway, and another sharp sound, and we flying through. I was shell-shocked to say the least, time seemed to slow as I extended my fingers and hit the bell's rope as we passed it.

The decent made me shake out of my trace and shriek in excitement. I couldn't help but laugh as I tugged the reins and the darker horse settled in the grass coolly. I panted, Echo panted, our hearts raced in time with each other, and my joy seemed contagious in the way his head tilted upwards in pride.

Then everything began to still, the spinning in my head slowing and my excitement becoming more manageable by the minute. And the minutes ticked down.

It was almost ironic at how calm things were now.

James raced up to us, out of breath, and his hands planting on his knees as he attempted to catch his breath. "That… Was… Incredible!" He continued through his pants.

I swung my leg over the horse and slid off, slightly shaky from the lasting effects of exhilaration. I shuddered as a cool drop of sweat traced itself down my back.

"It was fun too." I commented as I sidled up to the nearly collapsed boy and rubbed his back soothingly. "I think it earned you some credits in the school yard as well." I smirked as I peered over his shoulder.

"What—?" He froze as about a half-dozen boys bombarded him with whoops and cries of awesomeness.

I laughed breathlessly as I shook my head and made my way over to Echo to give my thanks for such a great time. I placed my hand on his side and stroked the thick muscles as I made my way to his head, giving him a good scratch behind the ears, which he reciprocated positively to by leaning into my touch.

I giggled slightly at his doggish movements.

"You're a beaut' arentcha?" I muttered, my royal accent dropping momentarily as I became a horse whisperer. The full vocabulary and grammar diminishing in but a few seconds of freedom. My wild locks completely free. So much changed in but a few minutes of freedom.

So many rules broken.

How father wouldn't approve.

And guess what's worse?

This time I don't care.

First off: School is HARD people! Grr. TOO MUCH WORK!

Also, This chapter was... Hard to start... It was awkward editing it and I got a bit stressed out about it, prolonging my posting it. I promised myself that this story would be better than my others because I'm older and a better writer but... I don't quite know. It's missing that PAZAZ! You know what I mean?

But I will admit, the ending made me happy (Everything including the back story and on). I like the little aspects I have going and I plan to make good use of them later on as well. I hope this is coming out as well as I had planned and that you all are enjoying reading it as much as I am writing it!

Give me feedback! C'mon! (Faves and Follows count as well!)

...To Be Continued...