Omg, i am so sorry it took so long! i got major writer's-block! i am sorry for making you wait. don't worry, this is a long-ish chapter! I hope you like it. sorry, but the wait for the next one may be just as long. i'll try to be quicker though! enjoy chapter 41! yay!


Elaina awoke in an empty bed, in a room that had the musky odor of sex still clinging in the air. Groggily, she attempted to comprehend her predicament. She couldn't remember much. There had been a lot of alcohol. More than she could ever remember drinking before. "God damn it," she swore in an undertone, furiously punching the mattress. This sort of wake up seemed to be becoming commonplace. First with James and now with…who?

Getting out from under the covers, muttering murderously to herself, she promptly stumbled and nearly fell as soon as she stood up. She was still wearing those ridiculous shoes from the night before. Those, and nothing else. Muttering about how footwear would be the death of her, she yanked the pumps from her feet and seized a robe from the bathroom. After securely knotting it, she opened her bedroom door and found Marchette sitting on the couch, reading the same book from the night before. Well, he wasn't exactly reading. It appeared that he was approximately on the same page as he'd been when she'd last seen him. His overall appearance seemed staged, and the instantaneous getting to his feet gave away his guilt. The way he didn't meet her eye fully suggested he felt remorseful for something. What though?

For lack of anything to say, Elaina asked, "What time is it?"

With a ghost of a relieved expression, Marchette answered promptly, "six o'clock, madam."

"In the morning?"

"Yes." He shrugged a little and as if to explain the time of day, he added, "You've been sleeping a while."

"Right," she said, awkwardly. There was a pause as Elaina tried to word what she'd say next. "What happened last night? Did I…" she trailed off. She tried again. "Was there…" She took a deep breath, "Did anything happen?"

Marchette cleared his throat, "Yes."

Elaina nodded, "Yeah, I kinda guessed as much. Umm…" She was rather embarrassed now. "Was it…" she looked away, "you?"

The bodyguard hung his head and shifted his weight. "Yes."

"I see." An awkward silence stretched between them for many moments. "What happened?" When Marchette made a rather reluctant face, she quickly added, "Beyond the obvious, I mean."

He looked ashamed. "I should have stopped it. There are no excuses that can be made for my dishonorable and ill thought decision. I've failed you, madam. Once we reach Cordalla, you may inform your father that you wish for a new guardian. If you wish to deal out any sort of punishment, I will accept it without question or defiance. I am deeply sorry."

He looked so pathetically remorseful that Elaina just rolled her eyes and said in a rather weak voice, "You've been rehearsing that all night, haven't you?"

A smile twitched in the corner of his mouth. "Well," he said a little sheepishly, "not all night."

She shook her head. "Nikoli, you have to start realizing that I'm not my father. I'm not going to murder you for making a mistake. So," she put her hands on her hips, "what really happened?"

He looked away. "I was drunk."

Raising an eyebrow, Elaina asked, "And I wasn't?"

He shook his head. "It was acceptable that you be intoxicated. But I drank while I was on the job. Which I shouldn't have. If I'd been sober, I'd have been able to stop us. I assure you, once I've safely got you in Cordalla, I will have another bodyguard assigned to you, and I will personally go before your father and tell him what transpired. I am deeply sorry for disappointing you, madam. I should not have taken advantage of you in such a way." He wasn't even able to brink himself to look at her.

"My father doesn't need to know, Nikoli," Elaina said simply. The man looked up in shocked amazement. "Why does he need to know? No one was hurt, no harm was done."

"You're not going to tell him?" he asked in a suspicious sort of manner, he finally looked at her. His gaze was so piercing, Elaina could feel it searching her soul.

She shook her head, "No." Smiling encouragingly, she added, "People do stupid things all the time, but they don't need to tell the world about it." Laying a hand on Marchette's arm, she squeezed, vowing, "I promise you, I will never tell my father, or anyone else for that matter, what happened here. You have my word."

Though he still looked suspicious, relief crossed his features, making them appear handsome, instead of miserable. "You really mean that, don't you?" he asked, almost in wonderment.

Smiling, Elaina replied, "Yes."

"Oh thank you mistress, thank you!" he breathed, throwing himself at her feet, wrapping his arms around her waist, hugging as hard as he dared.

Elaina was rather embarrassed. She didn't like to deal with emotional people. They unnerved her. Overly emotional people were unpredictable, and they did stupid things. So, to ease the onslaught of awkwardness, she patted him stiffly on the head and said, "Your welcome." The moment seemed to fade, as her bodyguard collected himself. As he rose to his feet, Elaina instructed, "We shall never speak of this to anyone. Understood?" Marchette remained mute, but nodded. "Good. So," she said, clapping her hands once, "When are we scheduled to depart for Haljhir?"

"Any time after midnight," was Marchette's instant reply. He looked rather relieved at the change in subject.

Nodding absently as she thought, Elaina answered "Right. Good," in a rather vacant manner. Rather awkwardly, instead of the nonchalant fashion she wanted to broach the subject, she asked, "Do you know who'll be there?" Marchette just looked confused. In an almost desperate fashion, she tried again. "Do you know who my father will have there, for me to meet?" The lights still weren't on. "DoyouknowwhichNeskabI'llhavetosleepwith?" The words tumbled out in a rush, but thankfully the bodyguard finally got the gist of the message.

He smiled reassuringly. "I'm certain he'll choose a very worthy candidate. Most likely, it will be one of Mathew Neskab's middle boys. My best guesses would be William, Marcus, Braden or Marshal. If he chooses a nephew, it'll be most likely be one of Liam's own children. It all depends on who is having their Time of Virility"

Elaina looked horrified. "I'd have to sleep with one of his children! That's disgusting!"

"Which is why its unlikely you'd have a nephew as your partner," Marchette quickly assured her. "Your father will also rub insult in the Neskab's faces, should they offer too lowly a candidate."

Elaina sank down onto the couch muttering, "Why me?"

Though the question was rhetorical, Marchette answered, "Because you are the only daughter of Zachariah Nichelle that still remains alive. All others have been killed in one way or another. The already furious Neskabs will be unforgivably insulted, should any but Zachariah's capable daughter be offered to them."

"Great!" Elaina muttered sarcastically, rolling her eyes. She brooded for a moment, but her thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door. Why am I so interesting to these people? She thought, exasperated. She motioned for Marchette to answer the door as she plastered a smile on her face.

Marchette had barely turned the knob when the door burst open and a man came hurrying in, a serious look upon his face. As soon as his eyes lay upon her he bowed stiffly and inquired, "Elaina Nichelle?"

Confused, Elaina affirmed. "Who are you?" she asked.

He bowed again slightly and said, "I am your nephew Nigel. Your father sent me for you."

Even more perplexed, Elaina blurted out, "I wasn't supposed to leave until nightfall."

Nigel rolled his eyes. "The circumstances of your travel arrangements have changed. We have but a small window of opportunity. Waiting until nightfall will see that window closed."

Marchette who'd been watching the whole proceedings, asked authoritatively, "What happened?"

Nigel turned to him and looked slightly relieved, as if Marchette's presence negated any problems. "The Danalli have attacked the compounds in Venisa. My lord believes that other attacks may follow on the compounds of our allies. He wishes his daughter to be at his side immediately."
Marchette was nodding, though the situation hardly needed it. "How are we to get her to the airstrips?" he asked finally, after thinking a moment. "All the men I picked out for the convoy this evening weren't Pure Bloods. I don't like the idea of sending her off with just you and I for protection."

Nigel shook his head. "Sorry mate, but that's the best we can do. We're traveling by motorcade to the airport, then taking a small helicopter to a securer location that will be revealed in due time. Next we fly to Cordalla. We will be in a convoy though."

Marchette frowned. "Who else is coming?"

"Some Neskab boy. We're meeting him at the secure airstrip."

Marchette's frown deepened. "Why's he coming? He could very well be a loose cannon, and could easily endanger the mission."

Shrugging, Nigel replied, "He's head of negotiations between the Neskabs and Nichelles, whoever he is. Besides," he added, "his entourage should more than enough make up for the lack of security on our end."

Marchette glared. "I don't trust Neskab security. They're terrible. They let that Mathew boy be murdered in his sleep. There's even speculation that it was his very own bodyguard." He shook his head, "No, I'll be glad when we touch ground in Cordalla." He looked thoroughly unhappy. As almost a second thought, Marchette glanced at Elaina and said, "You'd better get ready madam. We'll be leaving in about half an hour."

Nodding, Elaina retreated back into her bedroom. As soon as she set foot inside, she saw the bed. The room still reeked of sex. What was she going to do? She had time enough to either wash Marchette off her skin, or clean evidence of their act from the room. With a sigh she decided that the room was a better plan. Quickly she re-tucked the sheet into the bed, which had somehow gotten dislodged the night before. She returned the bedside table it its original position, with all its knickknacks put back in place. After a little hunting, she also found the pillow that had managed to fly its way into the wardrobe. She straightened and admired her work. The room looked like it'd been slept in, but not slept in.

As she dressed, she came to realize something. Almost her entire existence as a Nichelle had consisted of dressing for traveling. It was all rather strange. Would that be what she'd do for the rest of her life? Would she go hither and thither according to someone else's wishes? That was hardly the life she desired. With a sigh, she resigned and pulled on the remainder of her clothing.

Surveying herself in the mirror she decided that her clothing was exactly right, though she was no fashion critic, like some that she knew. Because they were to be traveling, which could involve walking, or running, should things turn for the worse, the attire she'd worn for her trip into the city was hardly appropriate. Stiletto boots were never good for running for one's life. But she faced another dilemma. She didn't know what setting she'd be immediately thrust into once she reached Cordalla. The last thing she wanted was to look like a slob in ill-fitting or badly chosen clothing. So she settled for a preppy, casual look. She wore dark colored jeans that looked both casual and dressy. Beneath she wore sneakers plain enough to look elegant. Her top consisted of a pale green knit tank top over a long-sleeved brown shirt. Due to the fact she'd chosen to clean the room instead of wash her hair, she simply pulled it back into a single braid, the small tail that couldn't be braided twirled into a large ringlet that rested on shoulder. She looked conservative yet laid back. Ready for anything but a black-tie-gala, though she doubted she would be thrust into that sort of situation. Even though her sense of fashion could be deemed as pathetic, she was still pretty sure she was ready for any sort of setting. Visually, at least; mental preparedness was another issue.

She'd been going over the last details of her attire when Marchette knocked on the door, calling that it was time to go. With a sigh, she opened the door and emerged from her bedroom. There were two changes to the room since she'd last left it. The first was that Nigel was missing. The second was the woman now sitting on the couch, as regal as a queen; her mother. When Elaina appeared, Lady Myra stood up and wrapped her arms around her long lost daughter.

"I am terribly disappointed that we could not have any time together my dear," Lady Myra murmured as she held her youngest child close. "You shall have to return soon," she held the girl at arm's length, "right?" Elaina nodded, not really knowing what to say to the woman who'd been her mother for all of a day. Satine smiled a sugary grin and simply said, "Good." Turning to Marchette she added, as all mothers tend to, "Take care of her." She quickly kissed Elaina's cheek then strode from the room.

Nigel returned then and informed them that the car escort was ready. As they emerged from the room, there were people lining the corridor. It seemed that every person she'd met in Nephrita was in attendance. Norah and Mary were closest to her, the latter nearly in tears. As her sister put her arms around her, she murmured in Elaina's ear, "You make sure to come back real soon, OK?" She released her and held her at arm's length, a small, but sad, smile playing on her full red lips. "I would like to know the sister who's never actually been other before."

Embarrassed again, Elaina nodded mutely and smiled stiffly as she pulled away gently. With a glance at Mary, she saw the woman looked miserable. With a good-natured roll of her eyes Elaina held out her arms indicating that her great-niece could hug her. Instantly the girl brightened, and with a watery-eyed grin, threw her arms around her great-aunt.

Nigel and Marchette watched impassively at Elaina's displays of affection. But only Nigel had the audacity to tap his foot in impatience. Elaina heard. She rolled her eyes in distaste and turned to her nephew, raising and eyebrow, asking, "Something for you?"

In that instant, Marchette was struck at how much a daughter of Zachariah Nichelle she was, without even conscious knowledge. Her piercing glare that was so well disguised as a questioning glance was terrifyingly similar to Lord Nichelle's. So strong was the aura of the Nichelle leader around her, she could have been Zachariah's twin sister, rather than possessor of half his genes. It was astonishing to watch her cause her nephew's arrogance crumble into timidity and bring him to fear her in an instant.

Nervously, Nigel cleared his throat and said in a rather quiet voice, "We should be away madam."

With a rather forced smile, Elaina nodded and said stiffly, "How thoughtful of you to think of my travel arrangements. I am so happy your priorities are straight." She turned her back on the older man, dismissing him as if her were nothing. To her sister, in a very different tone, she said, "I will try to be back as soon as I am permitted. I would very much to get to know you better." As she looked around the hallway, she added, "I'd like to get to know you all better!" The hard look returned to her features as she turned back to Nigel, informing him, along with that same hard, sarcastic smile, "I'm ready to leave now."

Rapidly nodding, Nigel practically tripped over his feet to lead the way down to the car garage. Elaina was silent, the nervous and unsure girl who had entered the domain of the Pure Bloods grieving for the murder of her former lover hours later emerged hard and cold, the cloak of authority and nobility resting comfortably on her shoulders. The way she brushed past countless people, forcing them to stand aside so that her path would not falter. When they reached the elevator where Marchette once described her mood as little more than a tantrum, she brooded in silence, filling the enclosed space with her bitterness. If she was going to have a stranger's child, it would be on her own terms.