Thanks everyone for your reviews! LOVE them. I've finished IWHYB, so hopefully I will be able to focus on this fic and CT more regularly from now on (or maybe a new fic).. anyway, here's the next chapter.. it more of a filler.. but I hope you still like it. Enjoy and maybe leave a review? x

Chapter 4: Crimes

She swallows, her eyes widening as she takes in his request. Lost for words, she remains silent until his name leaves her lips in a nearly inaudible whisper, but just seconds too late as he steps back. His head hanging low, his arms fall back to his side, "you.. you want to wed out of love," he recites her words from earlier that day, the conclusion making him swallow, "and you don't – "

She sees his eyes closing, a lump in her throat she watches him struggle with words she interrupts him, "Harvey, I –" but her own words are covered by the calling of her own name in a voice she identifies all too well. Her uncle's.

Donna freezes on the spot, her own head falling down, she cringes when she hears her name being called once more, from closer this time. She looks at Harvey, the way he steps back, clearly waiting for her permission to say something, she shakes her head. "Stay," she whispers, her hand sweeping past his chest as she marches around the partition and back towards the entry.

"Uncle," she addresses him on purpose, anger clearly detectable in her voice she meets the grey bearded man face to face. "How dare you," Hardman's hand falls around the princess upper arm, shaking her back and forth. She presses her jaws together fighting the pain as she challenges his words with just one expression. "How dare you disobey my orders."

Harvey lets out a sigh, his hand falling flat against the wall as he hears the argument continue. Shaking his head he pushes himself back on his feet, ignoring her words he joins the other's. "Let go off her," he orders, soon finding himself outnumbered by the guards the rivalry King brought along with him.

She looks over her shoulder into his direction, shaking her head she faces Hardman again. "I will not do what you ask of me. Never," she counters trying to remove her arm from his grip, but he's stronger. Pulling her down Hardman hovers above her. "You will," he hisses, "because for as long as you're not his," Hardman turns on his spot pointing at the man she only knows as her betroth, "you are mine."

The Duchess lets out a sigh, her eyes directed at the floor again she tries to forget the encounter she witnessed, the words of both young adults still on repeat on her mind she hurries herself to the hallway to find assistance.

"Let her go," Harvey pushes again, "you're in our Kingdom now and one shall not speak this way to one of our guests," his words causing the guards to take another step forward. "You can't tell me what I can and cannot do," Hardman scoffs towards, "and neither can you," he adds looking at the redhead in his hands again.

"Actually," King Gordon intervenes both men as he steps in the middle, "my son is right," he counters nodding at Harvey and the Duchess before he faces Hardman again. "Guests of Fort Williamstown will not be treated disrespectful and anyone that does is advised to leave straightaway."

"Ooh," Hardman laughs, "I have no intention on hanging around in this pathetic demonstration of a Kingdom," he scoffs, "and neither will she," he pulls the redhead back on her feet, pushing her forward and into the hands of some guards that came with him.

"No," Harvey bursts out as he takes another step towards the rest, making one of the guards pull his sword and point it at the young prince. He gets stopped in his tracks, his gaze meeting Donna's in the distance and he sees her shaking her head once again. "Harvey," Gordon, pulls his son back. "Lower your swords and we shall let you leave in peace," he orders pointing at the gates.

The guards retreat themselves and the young heir turns to face his father. "What did you do?" he exclaims, his gaze first meeting the older man before it lands on the Duchess, who hastily nods at him. "Letting her leave with that man," his fist clenched pointing at the doors behind him, "how could you?"

"You let her go," he's throwing his hands in the air as he walks backwards, "she came to us for assistance, she expected us to fight for her and you let her go." The words of the young man making King Gordon swallow, only now realising there was something more going on. "I couldn't stop him from taking her, not without risking a confrontation between our two families," Gordon explains following his son, "but that doesn't mean you.. we can't still try to help her." Harvey lets out a breath as he turns around on his feet, running outside.

She wrestles her arms out of the grip of the guards when they near the carriage, her throat starting to get sore from all the accusations she throws in her uncle's direction, but he doesn't give in. "Shut the hell up," Hardman scoffs, his right arm falling around the Lord's shoulder as they walk farther. "Get her in the carriage."

"Not without me."

Hardman's jaw clenches hearing the voice, his arm falling from the Lord's shoulder he turns around slowly until he finds himself face to face with a woman he remembers all too well. "You?" he stutters, a shiver running down his spine. He still remembers the stories, of her and what she was capable of. "Daniel," the Duchess nods, "She's not leaving here without me. Period."

King Hardman's jaw is still dropped before he even fully realizes what just happened. How that woman showed up her, managed to get in the carriage with his niece and have them drive off before he could respond. He turns around looking at the empty spot on the court yard as he notices the young prince running towards him again.

"Where is she?"

"You're too late," Hardman laughs as he walks back to the open door of his carriage. "I'm going to get her back," Hardman looks at the hand on his arm, slapping it away in one swift movement as he places his foot on the first step of the carriage. "No you won't," he shakes his head, "send my regards to Lilibeth will you?" he laughs pulling the door closed. Tapping the roof twice to let a guard know they can take off.

Harvey jumps back as the carriage drives away, his mouth still agape he stares in the distance. Lilibeth. "Li –" he doesn't even finish pronouncing his mother's name as his jaws grit together again. He turns around on his place, letting out an annoyed sigh of his inability to fight this, he marches himself back into the fort.

.

Donna slides over the bench into the corner as the lady, who had just gotten inside, looks up to her. "Don't worry," the Duchess smiles. Donna swallows looking back at the woman she hadn't seen before at Williamstown but looks familiar non the less. "I used to be a lady-in-waiting of your mother," the Duchess smiles, her hand covering that off the young princess. "I remember," she whispers nodding slowly.

"He'll still try to help you," she whispers, "and I'm here to make sure you're okay and assist you too," she squeezes the redhead's hand. "Thank you," Donna smiles letting her head lean against the window of the carriage, her mind already drifting off to everything that's bound to happen to her soon.

.

His feet carry him back through the halls of fort Williamstown, his blood still boiling he rushes himself to his father's library. Without warning he pushes the heavy wooden door open, making it slam against the wall. The noise it creates enough for the older man to turn around. "Harvey," the King tries to calm his son.

"She got away!" His hand pushing the books they'd studied earlier that day off the table, his other arm clearing the rest of the wooden object as he rages on. "Son," Gordon speaks stepping towards him, his hands landing on the younger man's shoulders, "calm down. You promised me you wouldn't do anything to cause a war between our two Kingdoms and you certainly don't want to start a war with me."

"Why should I care about my promises to you," Harvey pushes his father away, "if you already made me break my promise to her," he signals the books on the ground. "I promised I'd help her!"

"And you still can."

Harvey let his head fall down, exhaling through his nose he tries to calm himself down. "How?" he raises his shoulders, his head shaking slowly. "Because I..," his voice breaks, "I have no idea how to get us out of this."

Gordon looks at his son, despair visible in the young man's eyes. He takes a deep breath, letting his hand rest on his son's shoulder, he guides the prince to the sofa. "How about you start with telling me exactly what's going on?"

The Duchess closes the door of the chamber she spend over twelve years in behind her as she tries to remember the her way back through the fort. Her hand rests on the door handle to the art gallery, but she knows now it's not the time to take a look. There are more important issues at hand at the moment.

She walks down the hall, the walls and decorations exactly as she remembered them to be, but the lively atmosphere that once graced these hallways is gone. It's quiet and sombre, almost dark even on this early hour in the morning. She lets out a sigh before she enters the princess' chamber. "Your highness," she bows.

Donna looks over her shoulder, briefly nodding at the woman before she redirects her focus on the books in front of her again. Flipping through the pages, she lets out a deep sighs as she can't find what she's looking for. The book falling on the ground, she shakes her head. "I can't find it."

"Marcus, stop talking," Harvey hisses as he pushes another drawer in the archive shut as he thinks back to the advice their father had given him the day before. On where to find a possible paper trail of their betrothal. That is, if there was a trail left. The King couldn't guarantee. "Just.." he pauses letting out a sigh, "try the next drawer. Please."

Donna leans back in her chair. Her head resting against the palm of her right hand. "What if there's no proof of my betrothal to the Specter's to be found?" she whispers, "is there anything else we could do."

The Duchess nods at the redhead, her finger moving over the pages in front of her as she quickly scans the text. "There might be another way to stop this all from happening," she speaks softly then, looking at Donna who asks her to continue. "A marriage ministered by someone responsible for someone's death is considered invalid too."

The redhead swallows upon hearing the words, "I'm sorry?"

"King Hardman," the Duchess whispers, letting her head hang low, "what did they tell you about your parents?" Donna's mouth drop, a lump in her throat she stares in the distance. "My.. my parents?" she stutters, feeling tears well up in her eyes as she thinks back to the last time she had seen them. She walks herself over to the Duchess. "What about my parents."

"It wasn't an accident."

A gasp escapes the princess lips as her knees turn week. Her legs giving in, she collapses on the floor. Her hand on her chest, she gasps for air. "It.. it..," tears rolling down her cheek, she falls silent. Her head resting on her knees she wraps her arms around her legs, the sound of soft sobs filling the room around them.

The Duchess hesitates for a moment but kneels down besides the young woman, wrapping her arms around the redhead, she tries to comfort her. "I'm sorry," she whispers, knowing that it makes no difference and under different circumstances she would have never told her the real story. "You know I used to be your mother's lady-in-waiting, right?"

Donna nods, looking up to the other woman with watery eyes, she swallows. "What happened to them?" The Duchess pulls her closer, "the day they died in the supposed accident," she pauses for a second, "their carriage never left the fort that day."

"There was never any plan for your parents to make that trip and I never helped your mother get ready for it that day. In fact, when I showed up at her chambers it was empty," the Duchess whispers, letting her hand run through Donna's hair. "I've seen their carriage in the stables after it supposedly crashed and an hour later when I came back to show it to Lord Litt it was gone too. I know what I saw, it was there."

"I didn't get to see your mother's body before her funeral and I don't think anyone else did either. Not even mentioning how the funeral was already the next morning," the Duchess swallows, fighting the tears, "after the event your uncle banned me and anyone still loyal to your parents. I.. I went to the place they said it happened, there.. there weren't any tracks.. Donna," she pauses holding the princess close, "I'm so sorry, but something happened that day six years ago and all I can think of is that it wasn't an accident."

The princess wipes away a few tears, lifting her head from the other woman's shoulder. "So… my uncle?" she can barely pronounce the words. "We've never been able to prove it," the Duchess nods, "but he's the only one who benefited from all this and the way he banned nearly all of the staff. The way he claimed the throne merely hours after the funeral, the way that room was decorated and the way he made people celebrate it.. I've in all the years I worked here never seen an event like that been planned in under a day."

Donna lets out a sigh, pushing herself back up. Her hand running over her face, she paces through the room, trying to grasp all the information the Duchess had just given her. "But.." she pauses letting out a breath, throwing her head back she still fight the tears, "I don't see how this will help me. King Hardman can do whatever he pleases, he has absolute power."

"Besides, he won't even be the one officiating the wedding," Donna shakes her head, her hands in the air, "I.. I just don't see how we can use this." The Duchess nods, letting out a sigh. "Do you know who will be doing that?" she whispers.

"Minister Soloff," the name leaves her lips in almost a laugh, "my uncle's right hand man."

"Good," the Duchess mumbles turning to face the documents on the table again. "Good?" she asks, walking herself over to the table again. "Yes," the Duchess nods, "because if what I told you about your parents is really true, he must have been part of the plan. He was after all the one who guided their funeral."

The youngest prince lets out a sigh, his hands leaning on the drawer before he takes in the stack of papers he just searched. "Harvey," he sighs, "I don't think it's here," he adds shaking his head as he closes another cabinet.

He lets the paper slip from his hand, his head turning from left to right as he looks at all the documents they searched. "It has to be here, Marcus," he sighs letting his hand run through his hair. "I need it to be here."

"I know," the younger heir answers as he walks over to his older brother, "but we're here searching with the four of us," he signals Knight Ross and Lord Litt to follow him, "and we still haven't found a single piece of evidence."

She quietly eats her dinner, her eyes mostly focussed on the food on the plate in front of her. But every once in a while she looks to her right. To her uncle and the Lord she's supposed to wed. He hasn't even spoken to her, he doesn't even look at her.

He seems quite nice though, amicably chatting away with her uncle, but she can't hear them on the other end of the table. She wonders what his part in all this is and why he agreed to wed her, but never looks or speaks with her.

Not that it matters that much to her, maybe it's for the best. She wants to get out of this and talking to the gentleman might even make her like him. She thinks that's unlikely the least, but it's better to see him as a complete stranger.

She looks away then, when both men look in her direction, but they don't address her and she's never realised how lonely her life actually was until now. Now that she could compare it to the dinner she had two nights ago at the Specter House.

She extends her hand to grab a piece of bread, a small smile appearing on her lips as she recalls the way his fingers had touched hers. The way it had made her feel and the way he had smiled at her. She looks down trying not the blush at the pure memories of him, their kiss, she simply waits for the dinner to be over to retreat herself to her chambers again.

.

Her fingers move over the quill to the back of the white feather. Letting the edge run over her fingertips, she closes her eyes thinking back to that one moment in the library with him. When he caught her drawing his hands. She lets out breath as she leans down on her bed, the empty piece of paper still in her hands she carefully thinks about the words she's going to fill it with.

Harvey loses his temper for the umpteenth time in the past two days. His hand pulling a drawer to the ground, numerous of documents fly through the air until they scatter on the cold stone floor beneath his feet. He lets out a scream no one but himself can hear as he lets himself fall down on the ground.

He wonders if it is his fault that the documents are nowhere to be seen. If him saying over and over again how he didn't want to be betrothed was the reason for their disappearance. He wonders if the documents were already destroyed or only done so when he had that conversation with his father half a year ago.

He wonders if this is his punishment for going against the custom. If this is the universe telling him he got what he wanted all along, but right now it's not what he wants at all. He knows their betrothal was put off years before that, but he can't help but feel guilty. Especially now that he has met her.

Looking to the mess around, his eyes fall on the quill next to his right hand. Letting out another deep sigh of disappointment he reaches for the object and an empty sheet of paper. Deciding it's best to inform her on the developments. Mostly on her case and his help, but a few words are dedicated to his feelings. It isn't much and it isn't anything precise, but he feels the need to explain why he asked her to marry him.

A droplet of hot red candle wax falls on her finger and she pulls her hand back, biting her lip to stop her from screaming. She continues with the task at hand. Pressing the ring in the red substance, she seals the letter.

The folded piece of paper in her hands, she walks towards her maid. Handing her the piece of paper the maid shakes her head. Donna swallows, giving the woman a small nod and a fake smile before she looks down. It's been the same answer to an unpronounced question for the past three days in a row.

No response, no letters.

Nothing.

He paces through the archive in the early hours of the morning again. Once more counting the cabinets and it's subjects in his mind, he feels like he's going insane. Every day he spends his entire day here to look for a piece of paper he isn't even sure off that it still exists.

His foot kicks against one of the boxes he hasn't looked in yet. It goes against every fibre of his being to look at these particular boxes. Having dragged every single one of them here himself, he would have set them on fire if his father hadn't stopped him.

He doesn't even want to look at them, let alone open these boxes. The ones belonging to his mother, but it's his last resort. His last option before he has to think of yet another plan with a dead end. Not wanting to do this alone, he calls his brother and the two other men for help.

She stretches her arms to either side of her bed. Her head buried between pillows she lets out a sigh as she thinks of her options and foremost lack thereof. Days have gone by, all following the same pattern. Searching for a single piece of evidence of her uncle's or the minister's involvement in her parents death between the awkward meetings at the dining room table she had to spend in the presence of the men she started to like less each day.

She's staring at the ceiling as her maid enters her room. "Your Highness," the maid whispers. "Rachel," the princess answers without looking up, closing her eyes she waits for the maid to continue talking. "I.. I'm sorry to disturb you this late," the maid apologizes, "but earl Travis Tanner is here to see you."

"Tanner," she mumbles out loud, frowning as she turns to face the maid, "tell him to leave," she answers as she lets herself fall back on her bed. Her arms on her chest, she plays with the pendant of her necklace, but the maid returns within mere seconds. "Earl Tanner refuses to leave, your Highness."

She lets out a sigh, pushing herself up. "You can go," she whispers at her maid as she gets herself of the bed. Placing the pendant back, she brushes her hands down her dress as she walks herself over to the door. Her hand falling around the knob she opens it in one swift swing, a dozen of words directed to the earl on the tip of her tongue, but they all fade away the second her eyes lock with his.

"Harvey?"