ATTENTION READERS! I messed up the chapters while posting by accidentally skipping one on my word doc! I am so sorry! This is the CORRECT chapter 11 (NOT CHAPTER 10!). The corrected chapter 10 is now posted, so if you already read this chapter, go back to Chapter 10! Again, my deepest apologies!

Just as Fiyero predicted, as the day of the memorial service approached, the family distanced themselves from each other. But the only person to go out of their way to distance themselves from Fiyero, specifically, was Sarima.

Fiyero had expected this and tried not to take it personally, but it was starting to grind his gears. Sarima wasn't looking at or speaking to him, and while he was glad she wasn't yelling at him, not speaking to him didn't make him feel any better.

The morning of the memorial, Fiyero quickly washed and dressed in his traditional attire before making his way to Sarima's room. She had refused to be moved to different rooms after her husband's death, and no one in the family was willing to argue with her. He stopped in front of her door and quietly knocked. However, his knock was so quiet, he wasn't sure she heard him, so he knocked louder.

Sarima opened the door and frowned, and would've closed the door on Fiyero's face if he hadn't stuck his foot in the doorway. "What do you want?" she asked, turning away and going back inside.

Fiyero gritted his feet as the pain shot up from his foot. "I just want to talk."

"I do not wish to speak to you."

"Then I need you to listen to me. Sarima, the way you treat me must stop. The time when you can be upset with me has long passed."

She glared at him. "What are you talking about?"

"You have been giving me the cold shoulder ever since Eszno's death. Hell, you've been giving everyone cold shoulders."

"You cannot put a timer on grief, Fiyero."

"I know, but you are dragging it out. It's been four years, and I've had enough." He stepped in and tried to take her hand, but Sarima jerked away. "You used to be so full of life and –"

"Eszno was my life!" she hissed, whipping around to face him. "He was the father of my children and the heir to the throne! Irji is losing his childhood because his father is gone!"

"I have been taking care of the official duties in Irji's stead so he can enjoy his childhood," Fiyero said calmly. "He is enjoying his childhood."

Sarima turned away, crossing her arms over her chest. "You don't understand."

"No, I do understand. I understand that you are grieving. I understand that you feel you still need to be angry. And I understand that you blame me."

"I blame you because it's your fault! It's your fault Eszno died!"

The July heat had overpowered his will to argue, but he refused to back down this time. "Sarima, don't be incorrigible. It's not my –"

"Yes, it is! It is your fault! If you hadn't invited him on that stupid hunt, he would still be alive. He wouldn't have been trampled by the horse that you gave him!"

Fiyero bit his lip. It was true. He had let Eszno borrow one of his horses for the hunt, since his own horse was sick.

"You were the one who decided to go farther down that blasted path! You knew that horse spooked easily –"

"I did not."

"You were so stupid that you didn't even get help when Eszno was thrown off and trampled to death by your stupid, spooked horse!"

"I couldn't move him. I couldn't leave him. I had to send Gyles back, and he rode as fast as he could. I tried to stop the bleeding, but there wasn't anything I could do. It all happened so fast. I'm sorry." He couldn't believe he was apologizing to his sister-in-law for his brother dying in his arms, yet here he was.

"If you had tried to use that brain of yours, none of that would've happened. Your brainlessness caused this! I don't know how the rest of the family can still tolerate you! I don't know how you were arrested and tried for treason and the death of the prince."

"Sarima –"

"Eszno shouldn't have died!" She jammed her finger into his chest. "You should have!"

The color drained from Fiyero's face as he stared at his sister-in-law. Her eyes glared at him with blazing fury. Not even her tears could put those flames out.

"You are emotional," the prince said calmly. "That is clouding your judgment and causing you to say things you don't mean. If I wanted to get technical, I could have you arrested for treason on the grounds of what you just said, but I won't. For everyone's sake, I will never repeat what you said to me. But Sarima, I promise you, I will never forget."

"Fiyero. Sarima."

Fiyero turned to see his mother and sister in the doorway. He didn't know how much they had heard, but it didn't matter. He didn't care. He just wanted to get this memorial over with. He walked past them, hurrying down the hall. He didn't see his mother step into the room and pull a sobbing Sarima into her arms, nor did he see Hannalyn staring after him.

The memorial service was exactly what he expected it to be; long, sad, and awkward. He could feel his sister staring at him for most of it, but he ignored her, not even gracing her with a sideways glance. Irji, Manek, and Nor were on their best behavior, sitting quietly as they listened to everyone stand up and talk about their father.

He tried to sort through his emotions. He had heard most of these stories about his brother before, since people loved to repeat the exact same stories each year. There were some new details added to old stories, and a few new ones, but he didn't pay anything much attention. Each year, his family tried to get him to speak, and each year, he denied their requests. He had many things he could say, good things and things that would've gotten him kicked out of the church, but he knew his best bet would be to keep everything to himself. These memories were sacred to him, and saying them out loud would tarnish them.

Two hours later, it was finally over, and everyone left the chapel. Once they were back at the castle, lunch was announced, but Fiyero went the opposite way up to his room, claiming he wasn't hungry.

He was alone, pacing and yelling out his anger, for close to an hour before someone knocked on his door. He didn't feel like dealing with people, so he ignored it until the knocking became banging. Groaning, he stomped over to her door and threw it open, surprised to see Hannalyn there. "What?" he griped. "I'd prefer to be alone right now."

"Then we can be alone together," she offered hopefully.

"No, we can't. I'm not in the mood for games, Hanna."

The younger royal sighed, following her brother back into the room. "I heard what Sarima said to you this morning. That was wrong of her."

"Whatever. I don't even care."

"Yes, you do. I know you do. I know what she said hurt you. I was the first to see you after you returned. While everyone was fussing over Eszno, you looked so lost and scared. You couldn't even say what happened. A part of you died with Eszno that day. A part of all of us died that day."

"You're usually on Sarima's side regarding her feelings towards Eszno's death. What's different about this time?"

"This is different. This isn't her forcing herself to be brave for her children, and taking bits of anger out on us. She was actively trying to hurt you." She stepped closer to her brother and took his hand.

"Do you believe I killed Eszno?" he asked, his gaze forward.

"No."

"Do you think I'm responsible?"

"Four years ago, I did. I didn't understand much, but I now know that it was an accident. You're right; it did happen fast. You did what you could. It didn't save Eszno, but you tried."

"I never had a chance to grieve, since I was dealing with the fallout."

She squeezed his hand. "Sarima can be incorrigible. Sometimes, her stubbornness is a good quality, but this wasn't one of those times. I don't like it when she pits you as the scapegoat."

"The whole family does that to an extent. I don't like it when I stand up for myself, and the family tells me to have compassion for her." He chuckled softly. "You always tell me what I want to hear."

"I tell you what you need to hear, but in the way you want to hear it," she corrected with a soft giggle. "Plus, if no one's made you apologize by now, I doubt they're going to. That being said, I also know Sarima is not going to apologize." She kissed his cheek, paused, then punched his arm.

"Ow!" he frowned, rubbing the sore spot.

"Just so you don't think I've gone soft on you," Hanna said as she stood, leaving without another word.

Fiyero was alone in the Owlery. And by alone, he was the only human there. The owls didn't pay him much attention, but Remming flew down to get attention. It had been almost two weeks since the memorial, and Fiyero was avoiding his family as much as possible.

"I knew I'd find you up here."

He didn't turn. "Apparently, there's nowhere in this whole castle I can go without being bothered."

Hannalyn sat down next to him, a rolled-up newspaper in her hand. "I let you be for an hour and a half, but I was getting impatient."

He turned, his hand dropping from the owl's head. "What's that?"

"Pictures from the wedding of Her Excellency, Naoleine Thropp, Thropp Third Descending, and Master Loiln Heuena, the son of Judge Kumn Heuena of the Munchkin High Court."

"The Munchkin Heir?"

"Yeah. The pictures are even in color. Look." She held the newspaper up to her brother's face.

Fiyero blinked, but took the paper and studied the photos. "When was this?"

"Last month."

In the first, the young bride was dressed in a pastel pink, long-sleeved bridal ensemble, lacey and heavily embroidered with small crystals. Her chestnut hair was down and fell to her upper back in loose, elegant curls. A sheer, pastel pink veil covered her hair and face, long enough to create a train behind her dress.

The next was the same woman standing next to a tall, tan man in a gold tunic shirt and white pants. They were both smiling, looking like one of the happiest couples in Oz. He looked through the other photos, most of the newlywed couple, a few family members, and many of the Eminent Thropp.

"Who'd we send as a representative?" he asked, studying the large, color photo of Naoleine and Loiln on the chapel steps as newlyweds on the front page.

"I don't know. You'd have to ask Grandfather. But it didn't look like the wedding was a politically driven event. The Munchkin Heir marries a Munchkin judge's son. Doesn't leave a lot of wiggle room for foreign invitations."

"Who's that?" he asked, pointing to a woman in the back.

"I don't know. But Munchkinland needs to work on its color photo development. It looks like her skin is green."

He looked closer and realized his sister was right. The young woman looked like she had green skin. "Maybe it's an overhead light."

"On her and no one else?"

He shrugged and handed the paper back. "Looks like a happy wedding. Good for them."

Hanna stood and offered her brother her hand. "Come on. You've been up here long enough, and hiding from the family for even longer."

Fiyero knew he couldn't hide for much longer. He was already dragging it out as much as possible. He begrudgingly rose to his feet and led his sister out.

As soon as they were back inside the castle, Fiyero didn't know why, but he had the urge to find Sarima. He didn't want to argue or fight or have her arrested; he just wanted to talk. He knew it probably wasn't the best idea, but he felt the need to clear the air. He had to be the bigger person, even though he was nine years younger than her.

He heard her voice coming from the parlor and followed it there. As he got closer, the voices grew louder, and he realized she was yelling.

He stood in the doorway, taking in the scene. Nor and Irji were sitting on the couch, and Irji was holding a large ice pack over his cheek, tears streaming down his face. Nor looked angry, and looked down at her feet, avoiding eye contact with her mother and brother. Sarima stood over both of them, yelling at her daughter. Marilott, Baxiana, Raal, and Amalie stood in the corner, watching the scene with mixed expressions.

"Uncle Yero, Nor punched me!" Irji cried when he saw his uncle.

The five adults turned to him, and Fiyero entered, kneeling in front of his nephew. To his surprise, Sarima didn't argue, and merely stepped back. "What happened?" he asked.

"Nor punched me in the face!"

"Because he said that you killed Appa!" Nor argued.

Fiyero looked at her. "What?"

"Irji said that Amma was saying that Appa's death was your fault, that you killed him."

"Who did she say that to?"

"I don't know. But Irji got Manek to believe it, and then they both kept saying that you killed Appa and then they got mad when I told them they were wrong, and they said they were right because Amma said so, and then I called them liars and I got angry! I'm sorry, Uncle Yero!" The little girl collapsed against her uncle, sobbing in his arms.

Fiyero calmly held his niece, assessing the situation. "Where's Manek?"

"I don't know! Tell Irji you didn't kill Appa, Uncle Yero!"

"Amma's not a liar, Nor!" Irji shot back.

"You're a liar!"

"Alright, that's enough." Fiyero gently pulled away and looked Nor directly in the eyes. "Nor, it was wrong of you to punch Irji. Apologize to him."

Nor looked at her brother. "Sorry," she muttered.

"What was that, Illianora?"

"I'm sorry, Irji."

"And Nor, I didn't kill your Appa. He was in an accident."

"But Amma said you were with him."

"I was. And I tried to help. But I couldn't save him, and I'm sorry." He knew that Nor was too young to hear the full details, and Irji was, too. The young girl was only five when her father died, and Irji was nine. While Irji and Manek had some memories of their father, Nor's were probably fuzzy and would probably fade completely by the time she grew up.

He hugged his niece close, rubbing circles on her back. He was having a hard time keeping his own emotions at bay, mixing with his regurgitating memories of that day, mixed with his anger at Sarima.

"You didn't kill Appa?" Irji asked in a small voice.

"No, Irji. I didn't kill him."

Irji looked at his sister. "I'm sorry, Nor."

Seeing that both children were calm, Fiyero stepped back and looked to Sarima to finish this.

"You both smell like the outside. Go wash up before dinner. We will continue dealing with this later," Sarima whispered tiredly, rubbing her face.

The children jumped off the couch and hurried away. Sarima left without another word, or looking back at the others. Fiyero stood with a loud grunt, but refused to face the other adults.

"Fiyero," Amalie whispered, stepping up and placing her hand on her son's shoulder.

Fiyero looked at her and pulled away. "No. I… just no." He was tired and didn't feel like letting his parents and grandparents see him cry anymore. "I'm going upstairs. I'm not hungry, and I want to be alone."

"Fiyero!" his grandparents called after him, but he ignored them.

Only once he was behind the closed doors of his bedroom, he allowed himself to break down. The tears came quickly, coupled with soundless screams. He brought his knees to his chest and buried his face in his hands.

While he felt slightly better after his breakdown, he knew it was pointless. Crying wouldn't turn back the clocks and bring his brother back. It wouldn't bring back the time when Sarima was happy and even flirted with him.

He just wished his life was different.

Okay, now we're back on track! I promise Chapter 12 will be the CORRECT chapter twelve!