Yeah, this took a while...but...

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Enjoy!

Eddie huffed and slammed the book shut. Nothing. There were no records of any Millers in the book. Either they never existed or they were never recorded. But they should have been. John was very strict about that.

But if there were no records of Millers, then, who was he?

Was his name something else? Or was he from another country? Or…what? What could this possibly mean?

And why did he suddenly start having these dreams? Why did he suddenly feel like he needed to know everything about his real family?

When did his life get so complicated?

He stood from his desk, book under his arm, and crossed the room to the door. He entered the hall and looked both ways, wondering which direction was best. Should he find Jerome and get help, or should he find his uncle and tell him that he came up empty. Jerome would probably be the best choice. But searching for Jerome would risk running into Peter. Finding John would be easy and without meeting a problem. But he needed help.

He turned to the left and held the book tightly as he rounded corners and peeked into open doorways. No sign of his—

"Eddie," Peter acknowledged as he stepped around a corner. Eddie swallowed and nodded his head. "You're upsetting your mother."

"How did I do that?"

"You're neglecting her as your mother. You called her Clarissa. I don't think that's what a son calls his mother."

"I was just upset." He said quickly, turning around. "I'll go apologize right now."

"Wait," he stopped him, grabbing his shoulder and then ripping the book out from under his arm. "What are you doing with this?"

Eddie opened his mouth to reply and answered lamely, "I found it. I was going to return it to Uncle John—"

"His study is the other way." Peter arched an eyebrow suspiciously.

"I know. I was just going to find Jerome and Mara. I needed to ask them a few questions."

"I'll return the book; you go apologize to your mother and then you can talk to your cousin and his wife."

"Yes, sir," he nodded and brushed past him, continuing down the hallway.

Peter watched his son leave the hallway, and then strolled back down the hall to his brother's study. He stood tall before the guard that stood next to the door, unmoving. "Let me in."

"I'm sorry, sir, His Majesty is in a meeting that shall not be disturbed." The guard explained and Peter breathed out in annoyance.

"Tell him, it's important."

"His Majesty told me that none are to enter. It is a very important meeting between His Highness, the queen and their son and his new wife. I'm sorry, but I can't let you past."

Peter nodded, eyeing the door, knowing exactly what is happening behind the thick wood.

"Yacker," Eddie smiled at her as he fell into step with her in the hallway on the way to the library.

"Weasel Face," she acknowledged, a tiny smirk pulling at the corner of her lips.

"What are you up to?"

"Work," she said slowly. "Isn't that obvious by the broom I'm carrying? Or does it help a little that I'm sweeping the corners?"

"Can you spare a minute or two so you and I could take a walk?" he asked, ignoring her comments.

"Sorry, but I don't want to risk someone seeing us." she declined.

Eddie rushed back to her side as she began to walk away. "What about a horse ride? No one will be out there." He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and she rolled her green eyes.

"Sorry," she shrugged.

"Seriously," he groaned.

"I can't; I don't know how…" she drifted off.

"Well then, I'll teach you." He grinned.

"Fine," she sighed dramatically. "What did I get myself into?"

"Eddie is trying to learn more about his family." Peter said, dropping the log on the sofa next to his wife. She looked up from her book and stared down at it briefly and then back up at him.

"He's not going to find anything under M." she pointed out.

"I know, but he's looking, Clarissa."

"And what could happen?" she demanded.

"I'm afraid he's going to do everything that he can to get out of the betrothal, and this is one way to do it."

"That's because he doesn't want to marry a princess. He may not be your son biologically but he's like you in some ways."

Her husband bowed his head as he turned away from her. He heard her stand up and walk up behind him.

"I mean, I was just a poor girl living on a farm until you came along and begged me to marry you." She smirked playfully and he whipped around to protest.

"I did not beg—" he stopped and narrowed his eyes at her. "Very funny, sweetheart, but let's not forget that you were hopelessly in love with me."

"I still am." She stated boldly.

He breathed out a sigh and gripped her small shoulders in his large hands. He brought her closer to him and pressed his lips down on hers fleetingly. "And don't you ever stop."

She rolled her eyes at him and stepped out of his grasp, placing her hands on her hips. He watched her movements warily. He knew what that stance meant.

"For all we know, Eddie could be in love with a maid, and he's getting married to a girl he met a few days ago."

"I can't do anything about that—"

"Yes, you can. We both know you can. You just have to travel a bit more, debate a while – wouldn't that be enough for your son?"

"Clarissa."

"Tell me Peter, why won't you do it? Why won't you let him marry who he wants? Why does he have to be betrothed—?"

"Because—" he finally snapped, his strong voice echoing in the large room like thunder. He immediately caught himself from giving an explanation. He stared at her for a moment of silence before he fled the room, bursting through the doors and leaving his wife near tears.

Review?

"Who are you now? Did you say what you want? Don't go back to the start. I'm asking, who are you now? Did they break you apart? Won't you fight back for what you want?

-Rachel