Prologue

All she felt was cold. Bone chilling, teeth chattering, blood freezing cold. Then arms wrapping around her, pulling her up, and working furiously to warm her. She heard shouting, orders being given, and horses huffing.

"Get her to Cadwell Castle, preferably before she freezes." she heard a man shout, sounding so far and yet so close.

She felt the heat of a horse underneath her, and the arms tightened. "All right men, lets go!" the man called.

She shuddered against the wind, and could feel the heat seeping out of whoever was holding her. The icy snow bit into her cheeks as her rescuer shifted her in the saddle. She struggled against his arms. She knew she was too cold, too frozen, and would only put him at risk.

"Would you stay still?" the man muttered.

"I- I'll on-only m-m-make you c-colder." she stammered, her whole body shivering.

The man grumbled something and held her closer to his chest, struggling to wrap his cloak around her. She tried to push herself away from him.

"I thought I told you to stop wiggling." the man glowered, his face pale, but determined.

She cracked her eyes open enough to glare at him. "I-I'd pre-prefer it if m-my rescuer d-didn't c-catch a c-cold."

He grunted, and sqeezed the frozen girl even tighter. She mumbled her prostest, but lacked the energy to argue any longer.

Eventually, darkness crept in, and she lost consciousness, only stirring when she felt strong -- but rather cold, she noted -- arms lift her from the horse, and carry her into a warm room. She could hear a fire crackling, and people murmuring around her, but she couldn't stay awake. She was still so cold, so tired. When someone gently laid her down, she didn't protest, and lost herself to sleep.

One

 She shot straight up, startling the three men that sat around her. "Where am I?"

"Excuse me?" asked the man with a voice she recognized, but only just.

"Where, pray tell, am I?" she said again, her eyes deadly cold, her voice sharp as daggers.

"Cadwell Castle. The infirmary wing, to be exact." offered the second of the three men.

She studied him, taking in his bright brown eyes, his sloppy shock of honey colored hair, and the hint of amusement that never seemed to leave face. There was something about him that made her think she should be familiar with him. Maybe he was a renowned noble? Perhaps a duke? She couldn't quite place him. Shifting her gaze to the third man, she cocked her head as she took in his shaggy graying hair, wiry glasses, and round fgure. She brought her eyes back to his face, and he held her gaze. He had a grandfatherly air about him, she decided.

"Who are you?" asked the man with the familiar voice.

She fixed him with a glare. "I'm--" she started. "I'm-- I don't know?" her voice quieted. "How can I not know who I am?"

The Man With The Familiar Voice frowned, not willing to trust her. "How convenient." he muttered.

She glared. "And who might you be?"

"Samuel Braun. Captain of The Guard Elite." he shot back.

"Guard Elite? Why is that familiar?" she questioned, her voice cold and cutting.

The Captian rolled his eyes. "There isn't a person on the continent that doesn't know who we are." 

There was an edge to his voive that she couldn't quite place. Something hard, and cold, but at the same time vulnerable. She toyed with the chain around her neck. Familiar yet not, she thought. She noticed the grandfatherly man eyeing her, watching her twist the chain around her fingers, opening and closing the locket attatched to it.

"What have you got there?" he asked, his voice just as comforting as his appearance.

"Hm? Oh, it's a locket. I don't remember where I got it, but I think it's something that I wear often." she stated matter-of-factly.

"May I see it?" he asked, stretching out his hands as she lifted the silver chain over her head. She noted Braun's eyes following her every movement, analyzing and evaluating.

She dropped the necklace in the man's hands, and he inspected it. Upon opening it, he smiled. "To my darling Ceralynn on her 18th birthday," he read. "I love you forever, papa."

She frowned. It sounded right, but for some reason she couldn't quite pin-point, it didn't sit well with her. "Hm, seems my name is Ceralynn. Call me Cera."

The man with the honey hair, and laughing eyes smiled. "Wonderful. Miss Cera, I invite you to stay here until we gather more information."

The Captain's jaw dropped. "Your Highness! Johnathan, is that wise?"

Cera raised an eyebrow. "Your Highness?"

The gray-haired man sighed. "Well, the invitation has been extended. At least we can keep an eye on her."

"My thoughts exacty, Graham." Johnathan grinned.

Graham nodded. "Miss Ceralynn, would you mind if I took the cahnce to examine you further. I think you may have some broken ribs, but it's hard to tell."

Cera noded, shifting closer to him so he could poke and prod her back, chest, neck, and stomach. She winced when he pressed against her lower ribs, and gased when pushed a little harder. She was shocked at how much it hurt. She had bruises along her back, and scrapes on her arms and legs. As Graham continued to probe her, Johnathan said his goodbyes, and left, leaving Captain of the Cold Shoulder to oversee Cera.

The little room was warm and homey, with two beds along the far wall, a desk shoved underneath the window and piled high with papers, and a long table sat in the center of the room with herbs, potions, bandages, and other healing essential scattered about it. She lay on the bed in the corner, with Braun glaring at her, and the healer Graham giving her endless pokes, jabs, and prods. 

"Where, if I may ask, did you find me." Cera questioned, breaking the silence. "All I remember is cold, horses, and arguing with someone."

Samuel gave her an odd look. "My team and I pulled you out of the River Holden, the border between here and Ellisen. You were frozen, half dead, and battered. How, if I may ask, did you get there?" 

She stared at the ceiling, racking her brain. How did I get there, she thought. "I wish I kenw", she murmured. "All I really remember is waking up to you three. Some things feel familiar, like my necklace, but I can't quite place anything. I know I prefer Cera to Ceralynn, and that I'm not from here, or Ellisen -- I think. But that's it. I don't remember any faces, or names, not even any places. It's rather odd, really, being a blank slate. Not particularly pleasant, but not terrible bad either."

Graham started poking at her ribs again, and she gasped when he touched the sore spot. "Yes," he said, almost to himself. "Cracked."

"My ribs are cracked?" she asked.

"Yes. The bottom two on your left side. Nothing that won't heal, but it will be rather painful for quite some time. If I may, I'd like to examine your head, to make sure there are no serious bumbs, bruises, or other damages." he responded, his voice even and warm.

Cera nodded. What had happened to her? She hadn't the slightest clue. She grumbled when Graham flicked a rather sore lump on the back of her head. 

"You must have hit your head rather hard to have a bump that large. It could explain the memory loss. Perhaps you'll remember more as time passes. One can only hope, though." he said, giving her head one more poke. "It seems that other than some rather bad bruises and two cracked ribs, you aren't in terrible shape. I suggest rest, food, and heat. You're sill rather cold."

She nodded, relaxed against the wall, pulling the blankest back up to her chin. "How long has it been since you found me," she asked. "And how cold was I?"

Graham opened his mouth, but Samuel beat him to it. "It's been slighlty less than a day. And you were so clold your lips were blue, and you couldn't stop shaking. Though how you managed to argue with me will forever be beyond my comprehension."

"It was you?" she aksed. "Makes sense. Only you would manage to bother a poor freezing girl you pulled out of an icy river."

"If I recall, it was only because you refused to stay still." he growled.

"I was simply trying to prevent you from getting a cold. I thought that was rather considerate, don't you?" she retorted, her voice dripping with sarcastic sweetness.

He glared. "It would have been much easier had you just accepted my help."

"Or had you accepted mine." she fired back.

"Oh, would you just --" Samuel started.

"Sam, why don't you fetch His Highness, and show Miss Ceralynn to her rooms?" Graham cut in.

"Yes, Graham." Samuel conceded, sighing.

Cera shifted, aiming to stand, but was quickly scolded by Graham, who insisted that she either be carried by Samuel, or rolled around in a rickety old chair with equally rickety wheels attatched. "I'd rather just walk on my own." Cera grumbled.

She threw her legs over the edge of the bed, and managed to take a step or two before she gripped her side, and winced. Her broken ribs were going to be more of a problem than she thought. Graham tried to push her into the chair, but she resisted.

"No." she grumbled. "I'll walk on my own."

And with that, she slowly made her way to the door, determination etched in her face. Graham stared at her, and Samuel rolled his eyes, trotting after her as she started down the hall.

Two

 Samuel followed behind her, keeping quiet and wondering when she would realize she didn't know where she was going. As it were, he let her get all the way to the opposite end of the castle before saying anything.

"Miss Cera," he caught her attention. "I do believe we've gone in the wrong direction."

She whirled around and glowered at him. "Well why didn't you say anything? Where did I take a wrong turn?"

He smirked. "When you left the infirmary."

She glared at him, hoping to kill him with her eyes. She refused to show him just how much she hurt, or how tired she was. The light gown they'd dressed her in did little to sheild against the drafty corridors of the stone castle. She let out an exasperated breath before she started down the path she'd come, retracing her steps. She heard Captain Braun chuckle behind her. 

She turned on him. "Would you like to lead, Captain?" she growled. "Or shall I continue to get us lost?"

He smirked yet again. "Oh, what a grand idea." he snorted, stepping around her. 

She glared at his blue-clad back, cursing him for letting her get so lost. She felt every step in her sides, and her legs were so sore. Thankful for his being in front of her, she let her shoulders drop, and squeezed her eyes shut for a moment. After what seemed like an eternity, she almost ran into him when he came to a sudden stop in front of a set of rather large and rather stately wooden doors. Samuel knocked on them, and didn't have to wait long before Johnathan answered, a book in his hands, and a smile that never seemed to go away.

"Ah, Sammy, I wondered when you'd come. If you wouldn't mind showing Miss Cera to the Rose Rooms? I'm at a rather mind-boggling part." he grinned, holding up a worn copy of a book Cera had never heard of -- or at least, one she didn't remember.

Samuel sighed. "Fine, but you owe me one. Get back to your book."

Johnathan laughed. "Oh, is that sass I hear? Sassing the Crown Prince is rather dangerous, Sammy."

Cera's eyes widened, Samuel cracked a smile. "Significantly less dangerous when you're the Crown Prince's best freind."

Johnathan laughed, and agreed, sending Cera and Samuel on their way. He continued to remain two steps ahead of her, going faster than she would have liked. She forced her feet to move, and tried to keep her heavy breahting as quiet as she could. She felt like falling over, or taking a nice long nap right there in the hallway. She glared at the back of Captain Braun's head, mentally strangling him for not slowing down. She almost missed it when he glanced over his shoulder. He slowed, then stopped, turning to face her.

"If you needed me to go slower," he said, his voice softer than she'd heard it before, though it was by no means warm. "All you had to do was ask."

She tried to catch her breath enough to respond, but all she could manage was a curt nod. He gave her a long look, something changing in his eyes, and offered her his arm. She stared at it, wondering if she should take it, and admit to weakness, or ignore it and force herself to press on. She opted for the former, and let him practically drag her down the drafty hall.

It felt like hours before he finally slowed to a stop in front of a pair of elegant, yet understated wooden doors. Quite fittingly, they had tiny roses etched into edges, and simple but beautiful patterns of curls and curves carved into the center. She let go of Samuel's arm just long enough for him to push open the doors before grabbing his arm, and staggering through the main chamber to door she she hoped the bedroom was behind. She was right, and nearly wept at the glorious sight of a canopied bed covered in dusty rose linens.

She jumped when Captain Braun picked her up, and nearly screeched when he pressed too hard against her injured side, but the moment she felt the utter softness of the bed, she no longer cared. She kicked off the cream colored slippers Graham and given her, and crawled under the thick blankets. She thought she heard a quiet laugh escape from Captain Samuel Braun of the Cold Shoulder and Familiar Voice, but wasn't coherent enough to really care. She dreamt of nothing that night, and only awoke when she heard the door to her bedchamber squeak open.

She forced her eyes open enough to see Graham and Samuel observing her, and whispering to each other. 

"She walked almost the entire way here on her own." Samuel muttered. "She has to have some kind of strength or training."

She saw Graham shake his head. "Son, I think she's just stubborn."

Braun was silent for a long moment. "No," he whispered, almost to himself. "There's something in the way she moves, the way she holds herslef. There's something she's not telling us."

Graham looked at her, then shifted his gaze to him. "Maybe," he said. "She truly doesn't remember. Her head was hit quite hard, harder than I would have thought, given how long you said she stayed conscious. It could be that she really lost her memory. It isn't unheard of."

Cera yawned, alerting them, tired of hearing herself being discussed. "Good morming, Gramps. Sir Cold Shoulder."

Samuel gave her a withering look. "Excuse me?" he growled.

She smiled innocently, and Graham laughed. "Good morning Miss Cera. How are you feeling."

She thought for a moment, wiggling her fingers and toes, stretching her arms, and her back. She winced. "I do believe that I have been better."

Graham nodded, and gave her some tea for the pain. She took it gladly, and drank it quickly. Samuel continued to glare at her. She rolled her eyes. 

"Is there anything I can do for you, gentleman? Or can I go back to sleep?" she rubbed her eyes, hoping they'd let her get some more rest.

"Actually, there is." Samuel said at the same time Graham told her to rest.

Graham sighed. "If you must question her, Samuel, please be gentle." then he turned and left, wishing Cera luck.

She bestowed a rather murderous glare upon the Captain. "Please, Captain, I would much rather sleep. As you can imagine, I'm tired, sore, and in a general state of disrepair."

He gave her a curt nod. "Fine. Then tell me all that you know."

She sighed. "Alright, if I must. My name is Ceralynn, though I prefer Cera. I beleive I'm from the south-ish. Ellisen doesn't seem right, and neither does Shavonine. I know that Shavonine has conquered the majority of this land -- Tal... Tal... Tallirey?" she paused, and Samuel nodded. "So that only leaves the south. Fannipore. Fannitore? No, I think it's Fannigore."

He shook his head. "Fantimore. You were close, though."

She looked up. For once, there had been no venom in his words, nor harshness in his expression. She smiled. "Fantimore. I suppose I must be from Fantimore."

He nodded. "It does seem the likely place."

"Let's see, what else? Oh yes, I have a locket my father gave me on my eighteenth birthday. I never take it off. I think I recall what he looks like, though not his name. He's got a rounder face, combed brown hair that's graying by the temples. Green eyes..." she thought, hard, trying to focus. "I'm afraid that's it. Though it is more than when I last awoke."

He nodded. "Anything about why you were in the river?"

Suddenly she felt cold all over. This was the one thing that bothered her most about not remembering. No sane person would jump into the River Holden in the dead of winter. "No," she whisperd, her voice shaking. "No, I don't remember."

"Work on that." he said. Again, there was no ice in his tone, or malice. "Until you remember more. King Granley has requested that you be guarded, both for your own saftey, and that of the royal family's. Understood?"

"Yes," she said. "Though I assure you, I am no threat to the King, or his family. I have no desire to hurt them, I can barely remember who they are."

"It doesn't matter," he started. "You're still an unknown, and unknowns are dangerous." then he turned on his heel and left.

Three

 Cera fell back on her pillows. She was an unknown? Samuel Braun considered her dangerous? She shook her head. How could she be dangerous when she hardley knew her name? She threw her arm over her head. There was no way she was going to accept that she'd forgotten everything about herself. What's my favorite color, she asked herself. The color of the sky right as the sun rises, that blue-gray as the world is bathed in new light. That was one thing she rememberd. What's my favorite flower? She had to think about that one. Blue dendrobium orchids, the one's Mother loved. She smiled as a familiar face popped into her head, then she frowned. Loved, she thought, past tense. Her frown deepend. She died, I remember now. Mother died when I was four. 

She rolled onto her side, no longer able to sleep, but not yet wanting to get out of bed. She rolled around restlessly, unsure of what to do about her new memories. They were few, and they were sad, but they were still more than she'd had earlier. Sighing, she dragged herself out of bed, bitterly cursing the cold stone floor. She walked into her dressing room, hoping to find something other than this thin nightgown to dress herself in. As it were, she found a few gowns that looked the right size neatly folded in a chest. She thanked the gods when she realized they were still modern, but cut so they didn't require a corset. Just the thought of one made her still-throbbing ribs ache.

She dressed quickly, then decided to venture out of her rooms. She knew it wasn't the wisest of decisions, but she would rather walk herself silly than stay alone in her rooms. As she entered the main chamber, she glanced at the sitting area in the middle of the room. The cream and rose colored chairs that faced the fireplace looked comfortable and warm, the little table between them as elegant as the doors. She glanced to her left, and noted the bookshelves filled to the brim with all sorts of works. She smiled. Books, she thought, I recall my love for books. To the right was a matching sofa, pressed against the wall with a painting of a rose garden centered above it. All the decor matched the name, which seemed rather tacky, but the way it all came together was not only fiting, but simple and elegant. Just like a rose, she smiled to herself.

As she pulled open the door to the hallway, she heard the shifting of the guards stationed outside. She groaned to herself. They considered her dangerous. A girl with no memory, and she was dangerous. Sighing, she stepped into the hallway, and was met by a scowling Captain Braun.

"I thought you wanted to rest." he said, his tone accusatory.

"That I did, but alas, my mind has changed." she retorted.

He growled something she didn't quite catch, but she chose to ignore it, and started down the hall. Already her ribs protested, and her battered body ached. She glanced over her shoulder, and noticed the Captain trailing a few steps behind her. "Captain," she called. "If you wish to survey me, you don't have follow behind me like a lovesick puppy." she taunted.

He let out a sharp sigh. "As it just so happens, I'm on my way to escort a visiting lady to an audience with the king and his son."

She laughed. "Oh what a lovely excuse." she shot him a playful look over her shoulder. "I never would have thought of it."

He lengthened his gait to cath up with her, and grabbed her elbow. "A lady as crass and all together tactless as you is not worth my time. The only reason you have my attention is because I don't trust you."

She rolled her eyes. "Captain, as much as you dislike me, I am of little consequence. I don't know who I am, let alone anything about this place. I have nearly died. I am broke and bruised. I highly doubt that I am dangerous. Be as cautious as you like, but I assure you, I have no ill intent."

He met her eyes, studying them. "Be that as it may, I have a kingodm to protect, and a duty to uphold."

"And I wish you luck at both." she nodded.

They walked together in silence. The pain in her ribs almost as dreadful as it had been last night, Cera slowed her pace, contemplating turning around. She heard Captain Braun sigh as he tucked his arm underneath hers and supported the majority of her weight. She shot him a withering glance, but a moment later dropped her eyes, and stared at the floor. She didn't like being so weak, so indisposed. She knew she was stronger than this, better than this.

As they rounded a corner, Cera looked up, surprised to see the carved doors of her chambers. She whipped her head around and met the Captain's eyes. "I'll be unavailable for the next hour or two," he started. "But should you need anyhting until then, ask one of the guards. Anna, your servant, should check on you in a few minutes."

She nodded, and just as her turned to leave, she grabbed his arm. "Thank you," she said. "I apologize for my rudeness, and for being such a burden. I know it isn't your job to watch over a girl who hardley knows her own name."

She expected a curt nod, but was surprised when he gave her a lopsided, and rather silly grin. "Well," he replied. "It has been rather entertaining."

She smiled back, and released his arm, watching as he walked away. She turned to the two guards standing on either side of the doors. "And what might your names be?"

Four

The two guards looked at each other, unsure of what to say. "Er," the one one the right started. "I am Sir Silas Rochester. This is Sir Nathaniel Rischter, Miss."

She eyed the two men. "Sir? So you're both knighted?"

They nodded,the look in their eyes betraying fear. "Yes, Miss. All the men in the Guard Elite are knighted. We serve the king and the prince directly."

She pursed her lips, then nodded. "What exactly has the Captain told you about me? The two of you seem rather frightened." she battered her eyes, and did her best to look innocent.

"That you, Miss, were pulled from a river, and don't remember who you are. That you're an unknown, and unknowns are dangerous." replied the one on the right, Sir Rischter.

She rolled her eyes. "Well, let me tell you something." she leaned in conspiratorialy. "I'm not dangerous, just a bit absent minded as of late."

She stuck out her hand, formally introducing herself. "Please, my name is Cera, and I intend to do nothing but rest and mend."

The knights laughed and shook her hand, both decided that she couldn't possibly be anything of concern. They opened the doors for her, and she plopped down on the chair closest to the fire, leaning over to snag the quilt off of the other armchair. In a matter of minutes, the crackling of the fire, and the warmth of the room had lulled her into sleep. A soft knock on the door woke her up, and a petite girl popped her head in.

"Miss Cera?" she whispered. "May I enter?"

Cera straigtened her back, wincing as she stretched. "Of course."

The girl opened the door an inch more and slid into the room. She looked about twelve, with a smattering of freckles across her nose and cheeks, blond ringlets that hung just above her shoulders, and a thin frame that had the potential to grow into a beautiful lady one day. She wore a plain frock of lilac colored linen, with an off-white apron tied arounf her waist, and a matching purple ribbon that pulled back the top half of her hair, leaving her bangs to frame her face. She had eyes the color of a crystal lake, and bright smile. Over all, Cera decided, she like the girl.

"Miss, I'm to be your servant while you reside in the palace, please ring if you need anything." the girl said, quiet as a mouse, pointing her finger to a golden cord that hung next to the painting above the sofa.

"Why thank you." Cera responded, smiling. "Now you must be Anne, correct?"

The girl blushed and looked down. "I'm terribly sorry. I forgot to introduce myself. I'm Anne Levinson. Usually I serve in the dinning hall, so I'm afraid I'm not very used to being addressed directly."

Cera laughed, and beckonned the girl closer. "Let me tell you a little secret," she told Anne. "I don't bite."

She smiled when Anne giggled. "Captain Braun said you did, but I didn't believe him."

"How old are you, sweetie?" Cera asked as Anne bustled around the room, scooting books back onto the bookshelf, straightening out the paintings, and whatnot. 

"Twelve and a half. I turn thirteen in exactly six months." Anne grinned. "Then I can apply to train to become one of the queens maids."

"Oh?" Cera responded. "Is that what you want?"

Anne nodded vigorously. "Oh yes. Queen Lillica is the greatest. All the other servants say that she's so kind, and caring. They say she treats them less like maids and more like friends. I've always wanted to serve her too."

Queen Lillica, Cera thought, that's familiar. "Well, Anne, I certainly hope you get there."

Anne giggled. "I like serving you already, Miss Cera. I hope you stay for a long time."

Cera enjoyed the endless babble that came out of Anne. She was such a chipper young thing; excitable and cheery. Cera smiled to herself. Perhaps staying here would be less boring than she thought. She watched as Anne wandered around the room, taking stock of all the chores to be done. It must have been an hour or so before Cera called the young girl over.

"Anne, darling, come here, your ribbon is slipping." Cera called, already attatched to the sweet girl.

"Oh my," Anne started. "It is, isn't it."

Cera chuckled and sat the girl on the floor in front of her. "Would you like me to braid your hair, Anne?"

Anne seemed to think for a moment. "If you wouldn't mind, Miss Cera, I'd like it very much."

Cera set to combing through the girl's curly blond locks, and plaited her hair in a neat french braid, tying the end with the silky ribbon. "There you go, Anne. And please, call me Cera, there's no need for the Miss."

Anne giggled, and was about to say something when a knock at the door shocked her back into formality. "Shall I answer it Miss?"

"Go right ahead Annie." Cera replied.

She saw Anne smile at her new nickname as she turned to let in whoever was knocking. It was no surprise to Cera that it was the Captain. Coming to check on her, was he? Well, Cera certainly didn't mind it, not if it meant a rather entertaining conversation, and their usual banter. She turned in her chair, refusing to leave the warmth of the cozy blanket.

"Well hello, Sammy." she called, giving him a playful smirk.

Captain Braun winced, and sighed. "Do you enjoy tirelessly pestering me, or is it more of an occupation? Really, you seem quite good at it."

Cera laughed. "Perhaps both? Really, I have no other pass times than to annoy the ever vigilant Captain of the Guard." she purred.

"That's Captain of the Guard Elite." he grumbled. "The normal Guard is nothing but a bunch of brutes looking for a coddled lifestyle and good salary."

"Oh?" she mused. "And that's so different?"

He glowered at her. "Yes, Miss Ceralynn, it is."

She pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes. "Really, Captain Sammy, you're no fun."

He sighed. "I"m only here for three reasons: to check on Anne," he smiled at her, his eyes betraying a brotherly fondness. "Ask if you've remembered anything else, and lastly, to escort you to an audience with King Granley."

She pursed her lips. "Well," she started. "Anne is a lovely little angel. And as for my memory, yes, I have recovered a new thing or two, though I assure you, it isn't much of anything. Shall we be on our way then?"

She stood up, and walked over to the Captain. "Well," she asked. "Shall we get going?"

He gave her a long look before offering her his arm, and nodding. She looked over her shoulder and winked at Anne, who was barely able to hide her laughter. The pair walked out of her chambers and past the guards. When they rounded the corner a ways down the hall, he stopped her.

"What do you remember?" he barked.

She glared at him. "As I told you, not much of anything. Nothing of importance, really."

"Anything is of importance." he growled.

She sighed, not wanting to remember the last little bit that she'd managed to recall. "My favorite color is a light gray-blue. My favorite flowers are blue dendrobium orchids," she paused. "And my mother is dead."

Five

 He regretted pushing her for answers the moment those words came out of her mouth. Her mother is dead, and I just reminded her, he scolded himself. Needless to say, he didn't push for more answers. Instead, he silently escorted her to throne room. About half way there, he heard an inexplicable giggle escape Cera.

"What on earth are you giggling about, woman?" he asked incredulously.

"My mother died when I was a child, it's nothing to shame yourself over." she chided.

He looked at her, eyes wide in disbelief. "You remembered that your mother is dead, and you dismiss it as nothing?"

She grimaced. "No, I'm not dismissing it." she stated. "It hurt to remember, but I was a child, barely four, and though the memory is fresh, in a way it isn't. I merely don't want you to feel as though you insulted or hurt me."

He sighed. "I will never understand you."

She laughed. "And that's exactly as I intend to keep it."

After a few minutes of walking, she stopped him once again. "Captain, is there anything I should know about the king? Customs, rules, anything that might get me in trouble should I fail to do them?"

Braun laughed. "No, no, nothing like that. King Granley is a rather kind man. He informed me that he simply wishes to meet this strange girl his Captain pulled out of a frozen river, who was later invited to stay in his castle by his son. He might ask you a few questions, but he has no expectations of you."

She nodded. Something still didn't feel quite right to her. She felt as though there was something she needed to remember regarding the king. His name, as well as his wife's, had been familiar, but not in a good way. She felt as though something dreadful was coming her way, and she was helpess to stop it.

When they entered the throne room, Cera was surprised to see a bright, welcoming room, with peaseants milling about, offering the king and queen this, or requesting that. At King Granley's feet lay two mutts, his hand resting on the one between him and his queen. She couldn't help but smile. This was certainly not what she had been expecting of the king who had conquered nearly all of Tillirey. She glanced over at Sam to see him smile, then slide into an easy bow. She took the hint and curtsied. So these were the fearsom Rulers of Tillirey.

"Please, formality is not something we give much value to." King Granley chuckled. His voice was warm and gravelly, like an old man with a habbit of smoking a pipe. 

Cera and the Captain rose. "This," Sam stated, gesturing to Cera. "Is Miss Ceralynn."

"Ah, what a pleasure!" the king rumbled. "It's wonderful to finally meet the girl my son seems to have taken a liking to."

The queen laughed lighlty. "Be nice, dear."

The king chuckled once more. "So tell me, is it true that you cannot remember anything? Not a single thing?"

Cera grinned. "Well I do remember a few things, but sadly nothing important." 

"Well young one, you are welcomed to stay here for as long as you wish. For hence forth, you are a Patron of The High Court." he paused. "And our most esteemed Captain of the Guard Elite is at your disposal."

Cera smirked at Samuel and nearly burst out laughing at the look of sheer terror on his face. "Well," she purred. "That is most gracious."

Queen Lilica smiled. "I'm sure you'll enjoy yourself here."

Cera caught the queen's eye and grinned. "Indeed I think I shall."

"Well, feel free to wander. Our home is your home." King Granley smiled, pulling one of the dogs onto his lap.

Cera gave the Captain a devilish glance. "Shall we?"

Grudgingly, he gave her his arm, and escorted her into the hallway. "Well, now you have me. Is there anything in particular you'd like to see? Or perhaps you'll allow me to return to my duties as Captain of the Guard Elite?"

"Oh, I intend on draggin you around every inch of this castle. If I recall, the king did say you were at my disposal, did he not?" Cera batted her eyelashes.

Braun groaned. "Where, pray tell, would you like to start?"

"Hmmm," Cera tapped her lower lip. "Take me to your favorite place."

The Captain sighed. "To the library then."

The Captain led Cera down the halls, careful to maintain a pace that wouldn't hurt her side, but was guaranteed to tucker her out. After a short while, the pair made one last turn and stopped in front of a set of large, statley wooden doors. They were plain yet elegant, with simplisitic carvings, and worn handles. Samuel opened the doors, and stepped inside.

He almost laughed when a certai gleam cam into Cera's eyes as she took in the plush wing-backed hairs in the center of the main chamber, the little table between the two had a charm to it, with it's lace covering. The chaise opposite the chairs looked simply perfect for lounging, and the deep red rug in the center looked so soft, Cera almost wanted to kick off her shoes and lay on it. And the books! The entire front chamer was lined with case after case of books, and books, and books. Little archways led to rows and rows of volumes. Before the Captain could say a word, Cera had taken off, running her finger along the leather spines, weaving in and out of the aisles.

"Captain," she called from somewhere to the left. "Have you any recomendations for me?'

She waited for a response, but when one didn't come, she made her way back to the sitting area, and found the Captain sprawled in the chair to the right, a book open on his lap and a stack on the little table next to him. Cera smiled, and went to grab the book on top when he slapped her hand away.

"Ah, ah ah!" he smirked. "One must always start with A Rose Without Thorns. It's classic."

"I wouldn't have placed you as one for romance, Sammy." Cera teased.

"One can tolerate silly flirtations when they are written well." he retorted, never once looking up from his book.

She smiled and dug out the novel form the middle of the stack, neatly reorganizing each title. Then she plopped into the chair next to the Captain, her legs dangling over the arm, her head resting on the wing closest to the table. She smiled, and began reading.

After a short while, the door cracked open and Johnathan, his face ever glowing with amusement, skipped into the room, plucking a book off of a shelf. He spread out on his stomach on the chaise, propping his book up on the arm. The three of them read in comfortable silence for hours and hours, long after the sun had set. 

Cera, eyes bleary and nearing the end of her book, glanced over to see the Prince sprawled out, snoring quietly on the chaise. She turned her head to look at Samuel, whose head had fallen agains the back of the chair, fast alseep. She sighed and stretched. Marking her spot, she closed her book and stood. She nearly cried out when she stretched her back. Sitting in that position for so long had cramped her sides, and squished her ribs. Taking a moment to breathe, Cera turned tot he Captain and gently shook his shoulder. He didn't stir. Cera stiffled a laugh.

"Captain," she cooed. "Captain, it's rather late."

Still not a twitch of an eyelid.

"Sam," she said, a tad louder. "Sammy, wake up." She gave his shoulder a good shake.

He started, nearly jumping out of his skin. "Good gods woman!" he breathed. "What do you need?"

She struggled not to laugh outright. "Captain Sammy, it's rather late. I think it wouls be wise if we all retired for the night."

He brought a hand up to his face and ran it through his hair. "Yes," he nodded, still half asleep. "You're right."

Their conversation had caused the prince to stir, and in a moment, he was awake and bidding them goodnight. Cera took a step towards the door and grimaced. Her ribs were still so incredibly sore. She sucked in a deep breath, which only made aching worse. She forced herself to take a few more steps, and noticed the Captain eyeing her.

Sighing, he swept her up. "There's no need ot push yourself harder than you need to."

She was about to protest, but the thought og having to walk to her chambers on her own made her stay silent. After all, she was tired.

 

Six

By the time the Captain had carried Cera to her chambers, she was fast asleep. He sighed as he struggled to open her door, and get her to Annie so she could dress her in her night clothes. When he finally got the door open, he almost burst out laughing. Anne had fallen asleep at the little table in Cera's sitting area, her head resting on her arms and her hair a curly mess. Shaking his head and grinning, Braun decided to forgo waking the young girl, and shuffled over to Cera's sleeping chamber where we struggled with yet another door. After he successfully made it into her room, the Captain laid Cera on her bed and nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard giggle. She was sprawled on her bed, and arm over her face stiffling her uncontrolable laughing. 

Sam held back a chuckle, remidning himself that this girl was dangerous. She moved with the grace and purpose of a panther stalking its prey. She had more strenght than any soldier he'd ever known. She'd been half dead for who knows how long, and the day after she'd been found, she was prancing around the palace. The smile fell from his face. There was something about this girl, something sinister. And beautiful, the thought slipped into his mind. He bid her goodnight, then turned on his heel and left. He needed to clear his head. He needed to stop thinking about her. He'd just met her, she shouldn't be anything to him. And yet she'd already carved out a special place in his stone heart.

The Captain wandered through the palace until he found himself out in the frozen gardens. He analyzed every detail he'd learned about Cera since he'd found her. Her mother was dead. That gave him nothing. She was from South. Fantimore. No one from Fantimore had bothered to come to Shavonine in such a long time, let alone all the way to the Captiol. That was enough to keep the Captain on edge. Then there was the matter of finding her in the river. She'd been frozen and battered, ice forming on her eyelashes and hair. Who in their right mind would travel to the northern most point in Tallirey in the dead of winter? No one. Not unless they were up to something. He thought about the silver locket she never took off. It had to have been expensive, indicating that she came from a wealthy family. The problem was that no one in Fantimore was wealthy. There were a few families that had money, but they were all members of the Southern King's Court. He knew them all, and none of them had daughters that looked like Cera. 

 Then it hit him. The King. The Southern King. He had a daughter. His wife had died. He had money. Suddenly the pieces started falling into place. Rumor had it that the Southern King had been planning something devious involving his daughter, unhappy at being exiled to his small territory in the south. He paced the gardens, ignoring the icy wind. Why would the Southern King send his daughter to Cadwell? He thought and thought until he finally remembered. The Southern King was also known as the Assassin King. He'd trained his wife to kill. He'd trained his daughter to kill. He'd trained his entire kingdom to kill. What if this is all a ploy to kill the king and queen? Sam thought. He raced into the palace.

Captain Braun ran into countless people, not taking the time to apologize or pick up dropped possessions. He had to make sure Granley, Lilica, and Johnathan were safe. Then he was going to arrest Cera, the Assasin Princess. He couldn't believe he'd found himself even slightly attracted to such a feind. She was dangerous, and he couldn't afford to let her touch the prince. He couldn't let her get close to the queen. He couldn't let her even think about the king. He was going to arrest her. If she made a move against the family, he was going to kill her. He tried to ignore the twinge he felt in his heart at the idea of locking her up. He refused to think about how he would feel if he had to kill her. 

The Captain stormed through the halls until he reached the throne room. He let out a sigh of relief when he saw the king and queen were not only alone, but that they were safe. Taking a few deep breathes, he explained everything. When he finished, the king told him to find his son, and escort him to the throne room. Nodding, Sam bolted. He gave up op trying to be discrete as he flew down the halls. There was no telling where Johnthan would be. The Captain checked every room in the prince's chambers, the library, the kitchen. Everywhere. That is, everywhere except for the one place he prayed he wouldn't be. 

Braun stomped down the halways, hoping that what he feared wasn't true. He burst through Ceralynn's door, nearly knocking it off the frame. Johnathan and Cera were in the middle of a card game, laughing and hollering. Without thinking, Sam launched himself at Cera, dragging her out of her chair and onto the floor. She screamed, and Johnathan struggled to drag him off of her. She managed to flip Sam over, straddling him and nearly choking him. Sam saw the gears turning in her head as she remembered who she was. She leapt off of him, her eyes wide, and dashed through the door. Sam jumped up, deciding to drag Johnathan to his parents and hunt down Cera later. 

"What in the blazes was that about?" Johnathan snarled.

"She's the Assassin Princess, John. She's here to kill." Sam replied, his voice cold and even.

Johnathan's eyes were wide, his mouth gaping open. "Throne room," he murmured. "She's probably headed to the throne room."

In an instant, the two of them were flying down the hall, dashing through servants' passages, anything to beat Cera to the king and queen. They raced by baffled servant, nearly knocked over frightened coutiers coming out of their rooms to ask about the commoiton, and pushed themselves as fast as they could to get to the royals. Together, they burst through the throne room doors. Too late, Sam thought when he saw a dark haird figure approaching the Queen. She turned to glance at him, a girl who was most certainly not Cera. The deadly spark in her eye, however, was a family trait.

 

Seven

 Cera took a right turn, and made it to the throne room. She prayed she was in time. No one was going to get credit for her kill, especially not her. Cera's cousin was devious, cold, and undeserving. Unlike Cera, her loyalties were to whoever would get her to the top the fastes. Cera was loyal to her father, the one who put this plan in action, the one who was going to make her Queen of Tallirey. She was the Assassin Princess, no one was going to steal her kill.

Cera came through the already open throne room doors and flew at her cousin, Lianna the Cold. "You're rather early, wouldn't you say Cousin?"

"Better early than late, Cousin." Lianna spat, pulling a razor sharp hairpin out of her elaborate updo. 

Lianna sought to skewere Cera's eye, but Cera was quick. She was up and running, racing around the throne room looking for a suitable weapon. She spied the slender knife strapped to the Captain's thigh and snarled. She launched herself at him like a lionness pouncing on a fleeing gazelle. She slid the knife out of his sheath and forcefully planted it in his thigh before she attacked Lianna. With a blood-curdling scream, she pounced. Her cousin, however, was just as deadly quick as she was. The two fought like skilled dancers, leaping, dodging, and striking with grace and accuracy. They were too distracted to see the royal family escape, and Sam hobble over to the wall. Pulling the golden cord, Sam collapsed as heavy metal sheets descended, covering all exits.

Cera turned to snarl at him. Lianna took her break in focus to stab Cera in the shoulder and dash out of the neares window before the sheets locked into place. Cera cried out, pain and anger coursing through her body. She stalked over to Sam, her animlaistic stride measured and cold. Squating next to him, she dug the handle of his knife into the wound she'd inflicted. He struggled to hold in a scream.

"You're going to tell me where they went, and you're going to tell me how to get out of here. Then you're going to die." her voice held none of the sarcasm and sass Sam had come to be fond of. 

"Kill me," he spat. "Because I'll die before I sell them out."

A viscious grin spread across her face. "Pleasure." she said, and struck.

She wandered around the room, her eyes searching for anything that could lead out. She tugged on the cord she'd seen Sam pull on. She pounded on the metal sheets hoping they would suddenly retreat to wherever it was they had come from. She had no such luck. Tired, angry, and trapped, she she slumped into Queen Lilica's throne. She ran her fingers over the guilt arms, and poked at the padded seat. These people had robbed her of everything. They'd killed her mother. But, she thought. When they didn't know me, they gave me everything. I was a stranger in their home, but they treated me as though I were a beloved daughter. She was confused. She'd enjoyed bickering with Same. She'd enjoyed reading together until well past midnight. She even enjoyed that twit of a prince. She glanced over at Sam's defenseless form. He was stirring and she knew she'd have to knock him out again.

Cera sighed and pulled herself out of the chair. She figured the night was over and any chance of successfully completing her mission had dissolved. She walked over to Sam just as he cracked open his eyes. She admired their color, an interesting shade made of shards of green, silver, and brown. She gave a set of curtains a violent tug and stripped them of their trimmings. She bound the Captain with gold cording. He had a dazed look on his face. Probably from the blood-loss. Without thinking, she tied a tourniquet around his thigh, just aboze the deep gash. 

"Get away from me!" his voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper. 

"Sit still!" Cera grumbled as he tried to wriggle away. "I said to sit still!"

Sam finally complied. "You lied." he murmured.

"No," Cera said, defensive. "No, I just forgot."

The Captain sighed through his nose. "I thought you were pretty," he confessed. "That's why I was so wary of you. You were pretty, and new, and smart, and so many things." he paused. "I was a fool."

Cera didn't say anything. Couldn't say anything. Just kill him, she thought though she knew she couldn't. He'd played her game. He'd been sarcastic and rude and kind and he read. She'd only been there for a few days, and already she knew he was a kindred soul. She finished his tourniquet and went back to banging on the walls. He continued to talk, mindless ramblings of a man on the verge of death. It stopped her from focusing, stopped her from thinking rationally. Every time she thought of him dying, something pulled at her heart. She forced the feelings down. She was the Assassin Princess, and she would not develop affection for the Captain of the Guard Elite. 

Stuck in her own thoughts, she didn't notice the Captian's sudden silence. At least, not until he'd wrapped the same trim she'd used to gag and bind him around her throat. Fury surged within her and she jerked forward, causing the Captain to lose his balance and let go of the makeshift noose. She whirled around and jabbed two fingers into his wound. He screamed, landing hard on his left side. She straddled him, holding his knife against his throat.

"Try that again." she threatened.

"Kill me." he retorted.

Cera pressed the knife harder against his throat. "Shame," she purred. "To waste such a perfectly good looking man would be positively sinful." 

"Too bad," he shot. "That means I'll have to kill you instead."

He grabbed a fistful of her hair and jerked her hair back. Cera howled and struggled to detatch his hand. He took her lack of defense to jam the heel of his hand against her already crack ribs. A sickening crunch rang through the room and Cera curled in on herself. Searing pain turned her vision red. She felt like she couldn't breathe. Every time she tried to suck in air, her side felt like it was on fire. She was vaguely aware of the metal panels sliding up into the ceiling and the Captain snaking the knife out of ehr hand. She couldn't stop him. She could barely move. The only thing she could do was pray that Lianna hadn't killed anyone yet.

Eight

 Captain Braun sprinted out of the throne room. He had to find the royals. He had to. The early morning sun streamed in through the windows as he raced through the castle. He searched everywhere; down every hall, in every room, in every closet. There was no sign of the greatest rulers in Tallirey. Sam was becoming desperate. He'd ran through almost every corridor in the entire structure, and still there was nothing. He paused, catching his breath. Then he heard it. He heard Queen Lilica's firey retorts. He bolted in that direction. He was unprepared for what he saw.

He'd expected to see the royal family backed into a corner with Lianna the Cold skewering them with that deadly harpin of hers, but instead he saw the opposite. Queen Lilica had managed to confiscate the pin and was gearing up to ram it into the throat of the Cold Assasin. He dashed into the room, readied the hilt of his knife, and landed a solid blow to Lianna's temple. It wasn't enough to kill her, but it guaranteed a rather obnoxious headache when she awoke. He glanced at Johnathan, who ripped the tie out of the collar of his nightshirt. Using the thin leather strap, he tied the unconscious assassin's hands and hefted her onto his shoulder. He dragged her down two flights of stairs to the dungeon. He threw her into the dankest cell he could find, not bothering to untie her. He locked the door, instructing the soldier on guard to kill her if she tried to escape. Running back up the stairs, he realized he'd have to do the same with Cera. He made his was to the throne room, hoping she was still curled up on the floor. 

 

 

 

Cera slowly, slowly recovered. She inched herslef out of the fetal position, lying flat on her stomach on the cold marble floors.  She steadied her breathing and forced herself into a sitting postion. She knew she needed to run, but her ribs hurt so bad. Cera knew she'd been a fool for not killing Sam when she'd had the chance. Still, she thought, I don't regret it. She forced herself to stand and stiffled a scream at the intense pain in her side.  She shuffled over to the thrones and practically threw herself into the closest one. She leaned her head back, trying to even out her breathing. She knew she needed to check her side for signs of internal bleeding, but in her current dress, she wouldn't be able to unless she comepletely undressed. She couldn't imagine the pain that would cause. 

She glanced around the room, hoping to find something she could use to cut her dress open. Of course, Sam had taken the only sharp object in the throne room. Grumbling to herself, Cera poked at her side, feeling for any tightness or swelling. She sighed with relief when she felt nothing. She decided she would take a rest before she tried to leave. Her side still caused spots to dance across her vision. Within moments, she'd fallen asleep in the plush throne only to be awaken by warm hands wrenching her out of the chair and jerking her hands behind her back. The Captain had found her. 

He dragged her from the throne room, half expecting her to struggle. Instead, she just let him toss her over his shoulder and carry her to the dark depths of the castle. She never moved, never spoke, she seemed to hardly breathe at all. Sam felt almost guilty. He'd been the one to hurt her so badly. She'd at least come back to patch him up, but he had just left her lying there on the throne room floor. He shook those thoughts from his head He had to remind himself that this beautiful girl was the Assassin King's daughter, that she was an enemy of the kingdom's. That he wasn't allowed to think about her.

When he finally made it to the dungeons, he laid Cera in the cell adjacent to Lianna's. The assassin only cried out when her broken form hit the stone floor. She curled into a ball, and Sam had to turn away. Distance, he thought, I need to distance myself from her. He repeated his intructions to kill them should they try to escape and had to hold back from running out of the dungeon. He needed to clear his head and check on the king, queen, and prince. The Captain forced himself to walk instead of run to the Family Chambers where the royals were waiting.

 

 

 

Cera awoke cold and in pain. She heard murmuring coming from the cell next to her and forced herself to roll over. She nearly threw up. Not just from the pain. Lianna, her cousin Lianna, was trying to sweet talk the guard. Cera had to bite back a laugh. That was certainly something she'd never forget. Lianna harumphed when the guard refused her "tantilizing offer" and went back to sulking.

"Ooh, almost had him." Cera rasped. "Too bad he can smell whore."

"At least I'm not sleeping withe the Captain." Lianna shot back. "Although he is a fine specimen to look at."

"Leave Sam out of this!" Cera barked.

"Oh, first name basis?" Lianna feigned shock. "I believe the whore that boy was smelling was you dear cousin."

"At least I didn't plan and assassination for my own uncle." Cera retorted.

"No, you wouldn't have the brain to pull it off." Lianna stated, picking dirt out from under her nails.

Cera bared her teeth. "At least I didn't kill my own family. That," Cera growled. "Will land you prime real estate in Hell, dear cousin."

"If I were worried about my soul, I wouldn't have become the Cold Assassin. What I am worried about is blood. I am not the heir by blood. I cannot inherit the throne. No. Not with that blasted Assassin King around. Not with the Cadwell family around. Not with the Snow family." she turned to meet Cera's eye. "And certainly not with you around. I intend to rule this great continent on my own. I'll not share my power and I'll not wait for it either. I care nothing for you, for your father, or for that blasted guard you're clearly sweet on. I care about money, about power, about reigning supreme. I shall be the first to rule all of Tallirey."

Cera turned away. "Not if I get there first." she uttered, so low that not even the rat eating the hay in the far corner of her cell could hear.

Nine

 It took hours of heated discussion for Captain Braun to convince the king to order an evacuation of the palace. With two well known and titled assassin's around, the Cadwell's couldn't take any chances. Two of Sam's most trusted soldiers would see the king and his family safely to their hideaway in the western most tip of the kingdom. They would leave within in the hour. Knowing that the royal family would be safe, Sam could focus on extracting information. What he walked in one, however, was far from pleasant.

When he made his way down to the most secluded part of the dungeon, he was disgusted to find his newest recuit on top of the Cold Assassin. With the door open no less. He glanced over at Cera and nearly laughed as she pretended to retch in the corner. Looking back at the spectacle before him, Sam marched into Lianna's cell and ripped the young man off of her. He was about to have him seriously demoted when he saw Lianna pull something out of her bodice. He realized too late what it was. The boy he'd been holding by the collar of his shirt slumped, his eyes rolling back into his head. It took him a moment to realize the soldier was dead. 

Springing into action, Sam used the body as a sheild, not bothering to lock Lianna's cell door. He glanced at Cera, who was already waiting by her door. A look of deadly determination made her eyes sparkle. He knew he was going to regret it, but who better to fight an assassin than an assassin. He hurriedly let Cera out of her cage and watch in awe. Seeing her spring into a fight was like watching a cheetah take down an unsuspecting prey. Lianna was no match. Or so Sam thought. 

Lianna played dirty. She'd taken note of Cera's broken ribs, of her bruised and battered body and knew just where to hit. Cera, however, had managed to steal Sam's knife the second he'd let her out of the cell. She slashed with a vengence at Lianna's neck. No one, Cera thought, is going to take my throne. She got a few good cuts on the Cold Assassin, but she was still so tired. Her body couldn't hold out. Lianna took advantage of Cera's deprived state and used the cell bars to hoist herself up and plant both feet in Cera's already injured side. She was tempted to slit her throat, but knew she needed to catch up to the royal family first. They were proving to be more trouble than she'd expected. Deciding on a course of action, Lianna quickly fought off Sam, slamming her fist against his still bleeding thigh then crushing his head against the stone wall. He crumpled next to Cera. Fitting, she thought, the traitor whore and her guard.

Cera came around first but couldn't find it within herself to move. Her ribs went from cracked, to split in half, to most likely puncturing something important. Cera groaned and rubbed her hand against her side, bitting her lip to keep from screaming. Her side was swollen. She needed to check and see if it was turing dark purple. She needed Sam. She reached a hand out to him and shook his shoulder.

"Sam," she croaked. "Sam!" she tried to push him harder, but nearly bit her tongue off in agony.

"Mmmm," his eyelids fluttered. "Stop touching me."

"Sam!" Cera grumbled, using all of her energy to slam her fist into his shoulder. 

"Hey!" he complained.

When he opened his eyes, he immdiately jumped up into a fighting stance, preparing himself to take on Cera. When she failed to sit up, Sam grasped just how injured she was. He didn't know what possessed him to kneel next to her and cushion her head on his lap. He did, though, and nearly jumped out of his skin when she asked him to rip open her dress. 

"Please," she begged. "I need to check for signs of internal bleeding."

"No!." he said, blushing from his toes to the tips of his ears.

She opened her eyes long enough to glare at him. "Sammy, you need to do this."

He shook his head, knowing he was acting like  child.

"Fine," she huffed, gathering her skirts in her hands she hacked her hem to peices. Several times she nearly stabbed herself, and before she even got to her waistline, she had to turn over and retch from exertion and sheer pain.

Sam couldn't stand anymore. Gently, he laid his hands on hers and took the knife. He slit her clothing from her thight to her underarm and peeled the material back. He sucked in a horrified breath. The skin on her back, side, and stomach was a putride purple. The color drained form his face. He knew he needed to get her to Graham before he evacuated. He cut a long strip of cloth off of her hem and tied it around her waist so her dress wouldn't fall apart. He didn't know why he was trying to save an enemy of the kingdom, but he knew deep in his heart that he had to.

"This is going to hurt." he said as he bundled her in his arms and lifted her up.

His blood ran cold when she screamed. Instictively, he held her closer. He couldn't say why or how, but this girl -- this assassin, no less -- had become incredibly important to him. He ran to Graham's office. He needed to save her, he needed to keep her safe. He knew that without the physician's help, he couldn't do either. So he sprinted throught the castle, flying like a deer. He knocked over severaly panicked courtiers, and nearly tackled Annie, who'd been looking for Cera. He instructed the girl to race to Graham's and tell him that Cera was seriously injured.

"Run, Annie!" he commanded. "You'll get there before I do if you run. If he needs anything, get it. This is important, Annie. Can you do this for me?"

The girl nodded and was gone in an instant. Sam readjusted Cera, cringing when she moaned. He ran as fast as he could, hoping Annie wouldn't get lost. He needed Graham to be ready. When he finally made it to the old physician's office, Annie was helping Graham clear off a table to set Cera on. Graham untied the strip of fabric holding Cera's dress together and let out a low whistle.

"Surgery," he muttered. "She's going to need surgery."

"So do it!" Sam shouted, exasperated.

"I packed my tools, son. They're down in the wagon outside." Graham replied, his voice tinged with sadness.

Cera groaned. "Fix it, Graham. Use a normal knife if you have to."

Graham had a horrified look on his face. "You could get an infection that way!"

Cera rolled her eyes open and fixed him with an icy glare. "I said fix me. Sam, you still have your knife, right?" Sam nodded, pale. "Good, dip it in some alcohol and fix this."

After a few minutes, Graham conceeded, taking the knife Sam offered him Graham dipped the blade in the nearest bottle of alcohol. Taking a deep breathe, he instruced Cera to lay on her uninjured side, bit down on a leather strap, and stay as still as possible. She did as she was told, preparing herself for even more pain. Pain, she thought, my entire life has been pain. That was her last though before the knife tore into her skin and she screamed. Sam had to look away, and Annie blanched and hid in the corner. A few minutes later, Cera was unconcsious, and Graham was stitching her closed. 

Sam and Annie stayed with Graham, helping him clean up his office and pack everything into wooden crates. The palace was no longer safe, and Graham had every intention of leaving. He thought be might track down the King and offer to tend the family in their safehouse until things in Cadwell settled down. Deep in his bones, though, Graham had an odd feeling that that wouldn't happen. A knock on the door shook Graham out of his thoughts. He wondered if perhaps it was a courtier or servant looking for a tonic to calm their nerves. He opened the door, not recognizing the Cold Assassin.

Ten

 She swept into the room like a thunder storm rolls into a valley. She pounced on Sam, wrenching the knife from it's sheath on his thigh. Like a tornado, she whirled through the small office, slicing at anyone who dared get close. Her aim was Cera. She would not leave until her cousin's blood ran down her hands. She was going to rule, and she would do anything, kill anyone to get there. 

She saw Sam sneak up behind her, and whipped aroud to slide the blade into his shoulder. He clutched his shoulder, and Graham rushed over to him, holding bandages and gauze. Sam waved him away, and rushed over to Cera. Lianna was faster and was leaning over her, ready to slam her knife into her cousin's heart. Then Annie was wrapping her arms around her waist and jerking the assassin backwards. Lianna stumbled over the little girl. In a fit of rage, she raised her knife, preparing to bring it down and end the young girl's life. Graham stared in horror as he saw the knife arch toward Annie. Before he knew what he was doing, he knocked Annie out of the way and felt the tip of the blade pierce the skin over his heart. The last thing her heard was Sam's anguished cry and the last thing he saw was Cera leaping of the table, her lips curled back in rage. Then he was gone.

Sam rushed over to Graham's lifeless body. He saw nothing but the man who had raised him, the man who had taught him, the man who had loved him. Sam was blind to Cera snarling at Lianna and driving her from the room. He was unaware of Annie resting her hand on his shoulder and closing Graham's eyes. All he could focus on was the fact that the man he'd come to think of as his father was lying dead in his arms. He didn't see Lianna turn tail and flee, he didn't see Cera kneel next to him, and he didn't feel her arms wrap around him.

For what felt like an eternity, Sam sat on the floor, oblivious to his surroundings. It wasn't until Cera tugged Graham from his arms that Sam snapped out of his stupor. Together, he, Cera, and Annie wrapped Graham in a sheet stripped off of the bed and laid him on the table. They' burry him in the morning. For the night, they needed to stay where they were, barricade the door, and sleep. Cera and Sam decided to let Annie have the bed. Sam took first watch, staring with bloodshot eyes at the door. Cera attempted to sleep, but it evaded her. Instead, she watched Sam. She knews Sam's death had shaken him, but she didn't know how to approach him about it. After wiggling around for a few minutes, unable to get comfortable, Cera crawled over and sat next to Sam.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I know it hurts."

For the first time in years, Sam cried. As the tears streamed down his face, Cera held him. She whispered calming words, rubbed his back, and wrapped a warm blanket around his shoulders. She might have been an assassin, but she knew losing people hurt more than anything. It hurt more than getting stapped. It hurt more than getting shot with an arrows. It hurt more than breaking you're rib three times in a week or less. She didn't know just how close Sam had been with Graham, but she recognized the pain. 

"Do you want to talk about him?" Cera whispered. "That helped me the most when I lost my mother."

Sam shuddered. "He was the only person in this world that treated me like family." Sam paused. "Why are you doing this? Why aren't you running?"

"Because you're in pain. I might be an assassin, but I'm not heartless. I remember how kind you were to me when I had no memories. You and Johnathan. You saved me when you didn't have to, took me to Graham. My cousin is the Cold Assassin, not me."

"Speaking of her, why is she here?" Sam asked, his voice quiet and somber.

Cera sighed. "She's here because of me. Me and Johnathan. You see, she has this idea that she's going to rule all of Tallirey on her own, and to do that, she need to kill me, -- heir of Fantimore -- Johnathan, -- heir of Shavonine -- and Lea Snow -- heir of Ellisen. She also needs to kill all of our parents. She wants the throne and she wants it now." Cera neglected to mention that she had the same goal. The only difference was that she was willing to wait.

Sam shook his head. "We had a house full of heirs and we didn't even realize it."

Cera nodded. "I intend on protecting my crown," she paused. "And that means killing Lianna."

Sam looked over at her, meeting her gaze. "I'll help. She killed the man that raised me, I'll do all I can to see her head on a stake."

The intensity in his eyes made Cera shivered. "Johnathan should be safe for now, Lea too. You, though, you'll be on her list."

"Why?" he asked. 

"Because you lived. Me and Annie, too." she answered. "When she attacks, the kills. No survivors. We just broke her track record and she is livid."

He nodded, thinking. "Cera?" he asked. "Why is she called the Cold Assassin?"

Cera took a deep breathe. "My father gaver her that name when she picked off every member of her immediate family without batting an eye. When she was taken before the king, the only thing she said was 'target practice'. She kills without emotion. She kills without thought. If you think I'm dangerous, she's even worse. She doesn't mind getting her hands dirty, in fact, it excites her. She's scary. Growing up with her was like growing up with a predator waiting to rip out my throat. When we were kids we'd play house, and every time, she'd find a way to plot my "pretend" death. When she killed the family dog just for fun, my father had her sent to Assassin's Hold, where he trained her and used her to kill anyone he didn't like. He had me trained at the family estate and gave me any missions that required tact and grace. In other words, slaughters were all Lianna's and coups were all mine."

"When did you start training?" Sam asked, curious for a reason he couldn't -- or rather wouldn't -- identify.

"Nine," she stated. "I was nine. Lianna -- she's two years older than I am -- started training when she was seven."

 Sam's eyes widended. "Oh." was all he could muster.

"Sam," Cera started. "If we're going to kill Lianna, we're going to need help. All the Assassins I know are siding with Lianna -- that's how I ended up in the river. Have any ideas on who we can turn to?"

Sam thought for a moment until a name popped into his head. "Syd," he said. "Syd the Slayer."

Eleven

 The next morning, Cera forced Sam to sit on the bed in Graham's office, and strip. "Sam!" she ordered. "I need to clean all your wounds."

"The ones you gave me, or the ones your sister inflicted?"

Cera glared at him. "Strip."

He shook his head. "No."

"Strip or die." Cera threatened, brandishing scalpel she'd found in one of Graham's messy drawers.

Blushing, Sam tugged off his shirt. "I'll let you take care of my shoulder, but I'll do my thigh by myself."

Cera had to stop herself from admiring Sam's well sculpted upper body. "Fine." she conceeded, sneaking a peek at his muscular abs.

Grabbing some clean bandages, a rag, and fresh water, Cera set to cleaning the gash in Sam's shoulder. The second she finished tying the bandage, Sam was pulling his shirt back on. Cera frowned, already missing the view. Sam glanced at her, a puzzled look on his face.

"What's wrong? Is your side getting worse?" he asked.

It was Cera's turn to blush. "N-no!"

Sam gave him a skeptical look. "Let me see." he demanded.

Grudgingly, Cera lifted her shirt, revealing her puffy, but thankfully normal colored side. "So you have no problem with me lifting my shirt, but you? Oh no." she grumbled.

Sam chuckled and poked her side, making her cringe. "It's going to take a while before you're fit to fight."

She glared at him. "I'm an assassin," she snapped. "Broken ribs will not stop me from getting a job done."

Sam rolled his eyes. "Hopefully there's a few horses left in the stalls, neither of us is in good enough shape to hike to where we're going."

"I'll wake up Annie and check," Cera paused, fixing Sam with a glare. "So you can fix your thigh alone."

Sam shook his head as Cera woke Annie. Together, the girls went to find horses, or rather, Annie went to find horses. Not long after leaving Graham's rooms, Cera was gasping, her side feeling as though it were on fire. Grumbling to herself, Cera stumbled back to the physicians door. Knocking on it, Cera entered without waiting for a response. She caught Sam just as he was pulling his pants back on.

"Where's Annie?" he asked, his face red.

Cera shrugged. Hobbling over to the bed, Cera collapsed onto the pillows.

Sam sat next to her. "You sent her out there alone?" he barked.

"Sam," Cera started, still short on breathe. "I can barely walk. You can barely walk. We still need to bury Graham. Annie is going to have to do some things on her own. Lianna is long gone. She wouldn't stick around. My guess is she's holing up somewhere trying to devise a new plan of action. We'll be safe-ish for a few days." 

Sam grumbled but understood her logic. "Well, I suppose you're right."

"I am." Cera said smugly. "I'm always right."

Sam mumbled something about women and motioned Cera to scoot over. "Move," he grumbled. "I need a nap."

"Ooh," Cera giggled, sliding closer to the wall. "The great Captain of the Guard Elite needs a nap?"

Sam huffed, collapsing face first onto the bed. "Yes," he muttered. "The Captain needs a nap."

Cera laughed, squished between the wall and the Captain's well muscled from. "Just try not to smother me."

Sam grunted, already half asleep. Cera rolled onto her side to give Sam a few more inches of room. She smiled as she watched him sleep; face relaxed, breathing even. Without thinking, she brushed the hair out of his face and draped an arm across his back. He sighed in his sleep and grabbed Cera's other hand. Stared at his face, then leaned forward and brushed her lips across his cheek. She knew instantly that she was never going to be able to hurt him again. She'd let herself become too close to a man sworn to protect the family she wanted to kill. She cursed herself as she kissed his forehead.

The pair didn't wake up until girlish gigling floated through out the room. Sam and Cera locked eyes. "Annie." They said in unison.

"Looks like you two were comfortable." Annei giggled, winking.

Sam blushed and shot out of bed. "We were just taking a rest, Annie!"

Cera laughed. "Captain here needed a nap."

Sam turned to glare at her. "Have you found any horses, Annie?"

Annie giggled once again. "I found two. I walked them to the closest door and tied them to a tree."

Cera smiled at the girl. "Good job. Once we bury Graham, we'll head out."

Sam nodded his agreement, and hefted Graham's body over his shoulder, trying not to think about how his friend had died. Cera leaned heavily on Annie, and the trio left the empty castle, making their way out to the frozen garden. Once they found a beautiful spot, Sam laid Graham on the frozen ground, and rummaged through a nearby shed for a shovel. Once he located one, he began digging, his face dark and somber. Hours later, when the sun was only a few hours from setting, he poured the last shovelful over Graham's grave. He used the shovel as a marker, and said a silent prayer, wishing Graham happiness in the afterlife. He jumped when Cera rested an arm around his waist, trying to comfort him. A moment later, he turned and wrapped her in his arms, crying into her shoulder. She held him, stroking his hair, and murmuring in his ear. She had experience with death. She knew what it was like and knew that Sam would need someone. She decided she would be the person he could cry to, the person he could hold at night when guilt gripped his heart and mind. She decided she was going to let herself love him. A few minutes later, Annie left to grap the horses, leaving Sam and Cera still in their embrace. 

"Thank you," he whispered into her hair. "I mean it."

"She smiled. "I'm here, Sam. Day or night, I'm here."

Sam sighed and released her just as Annie returned. "Can I ride with Cera?" she asked, chipper even though she'd seen so much carnage. 

Cera laughed. "Of course sweetie!"

Sam smiled and helped Cera onto the gray dappled mare. She supressed a cry when his hand touched her very painful side. He apologized profusely when he realized he'd hurt her. She, of course, waved him off, and leaned down to pull Annie up. Sam used his good leg to step into the stirrup and swing himself onto his chestnut mare. The group rode around to the other side of the castle and raided the kitchen for supplies before they headed out.

"Where exactly are we headed?" she asked Sam.

"Cadwell Mountain." he responded, pointint to a not too distant mountain to the south."

Cera groaned. "There's no way we'll get there in the hour or so we have before sundown."

"No," Sam shook his head. "We'll have to camp for the night. Let's see how far we can get though."

Two hours later, Sam, Cera, and Annie were only marginally closer to their destination. Cera grumbled about sleeping on the ground, but nearly kissed Sam when he gathered moss and other year-round plants to form makeshift beds for the three of them. Sam sent Annie to gather whatever dry wood she could find withing eyesight, and Cera changed her bandages. Once Sam settled down, she demanded that he let her change his bandages as well. 

"Definitely not!" he said with finality.

A mishevious grin wound its way accross Cera's face. She launched herself at Sam and ripped of his three layers of clothing all at once. She started poking at his shoulder, making Sam swat her hand away and wince.

"Sorry," she said "I just want to see how quickly it's healing. Promise I won't poke your thigh."

"Who said you were going anywhere near my thigh?" Sam asked, exhasperated.

"I did." Cera purred, and tugged at his pants.

Sam clambored away from her, and backed into a tree. Cera let out a jovial laugh and tossed Sam his shirt, coat, and cloak. He snatched them out of the air, pulling them back on. Relaxing on her vegetation bed, Cera thought about what she was going to do after she killed Lianna. Would she continue on with Sam and find the Cadwells, or would she hunt them on her own? Would she kill them, or let them live? What about Fantimore? Would she return. Cera had never been so unsure of herself. Lost in her thoughts, she didn't realize Annie had returned and fallen asleep until she felt the warmth of a fire and looked down and found a curly blonde head resting in her lap. Cera smiled to herself, and stroked the girl's hair.

"She looks up to you." Sam said, getting up to throw a few more sticks on the fire.

"Does she?" Cera asked. "Why?"

Sam plopped down next to her, leaning back on his hands. "Because she can see how strong, and smart, and beutiful you are."

Cera turned to look at Sam, his face scarlet to the tips of his ears. "I am none of those things." she whispered. "I pretend to be, but I am not."

Sam shook his head. "You're all of those things, though you refuse to admit it. That's what I liked about you." he paused. "What I do like about you." his voice was barely above a whisper. 

Cera looked away, not wanting to meet his eye. "I'm bitter," she whispered back. "Bitter, and mean, and tired. I might have a pretty face, but being pretty is not being beautiful. Having a brain is not being smart. Surviving is not being strong. I'm superficial. I never let anyone in. I keep everyone away." she paused. "At least, everyone except for you and Annie."

Cera closed her eyes, refusing to meet Sam's gaze. "Cera," he whispered, his voice pleading. "Look at me."

Cera shook her head.

Sam touched her chin, gently guiding it until she was facing him. "Open your eyes."

She shook her head again.

"Cera," he begged. "Open your eyes."

This time she did, meeting his intense hazel gaze. Slowly, he tugged her chin closer and closer until their faces were mere centimeters apart.

"Sam," Cera breathed. "I'm an assassin."

"I know." Sam whispered before he closed his eyes and kissed her. 

She melted. All of her defenses came crashing down. She was no longer Ceralynn the Assassin Princess, she  was Cera, whose heart belonged to Sam. She kissed him back with an intensity she didn't know she had. Sam's hands tangled in her hair as Cera carefully slid Annie out of her lap. Sam broke off the kiss, panting, his eyes searching hers. She wraped her arms around his neck and kissed him again. A small fire settled in Cera's stomach as she nestled herself in Sam's arms, pressing her lips to his once again.

"Cera," he whispered, his voice husky. "We really should get to sleep."

"Oh, if you insist." Cera teased, about to get up and go to her own pile of moss.

"Oh no you don't" Sam wrapped an arms around Cera's waist and pulled her down next to him. "I'm not letting you go."

Cera giggled, and burried her face in his chest. The three of them slept soundly, huddled together on the same bed of vegetation. Cera's last thought before losing herself to sleep was about how she felt like thier little gang was a family. She the mother, Sam the father, and Annie, their adorable little girl.

The next morning, Annie teased Cera and Sam relentlessly as they travelled to Cadwell mountain. "I can hear wedding bells!" she sang.

"I believe I'm tempted to push this feind off of this very horse." Cera threatened.

Sam couldn't help but laugh. The teasing went on for hours, and neither Cera nor Sam was bothered by it. It wasn't until dusk that the trio arrived at the base of Cadwell Mountian. Cera didn't know what she'd been expecting. A scarred, burly man waiting to help them fight the Cold Assassin, perhaps? She was disappointed to see nothing but a sharp incline and frozen gray rocks.

"Are we expected to climb that monstrosity?" Cera grumbled.

Sam shook his head. "No, Syd probably heard us a ways back. She'll be here when she deems us worth her time."

"Well," Cera said haughtily. "She'd better hurry."

Sam was about to laugh when a figure appeared before them. We've found her, he thought.

 

 

Twelve

 

She was tiny. For someone with the title of Slayer, she was incredibly petite. Still, power emanated from her. She didn't just walk, she strutted. She didnt smile, she smirked. She was something exotic. All five feet of her. Cera knew immediately that they were going to be friends. A glance over at Sam's bright red face verified that.

Sam walked up to her, his eyes lowered as if he were approaching a dangerous creature. "Syd," he said nervously. "It's always a pleasure."

Syd cackled. "It's Syd the Slayer, love. Or the Superior." She paused to smirk at Sam. "Whichever you prefer." she purred.

His face grew even more read as he bowed at the waist. Cera struggled to contain her laughter. It seemed someone else took joy in teasing the dear Captain. Oh yes, Cera thought, We're going to be great friends indeed. 

Syd turned her bright eyes to Cera. "And who might you be, darling?"

Cera gave her a burning smolder and tossed her hair over her shoulder. "Why, I," Cera drawled. "Am Ceralynn, the Assassin Princess. Perhaps you've heard of me?"

Syd threw her head back and laughed, offering her hand for Cera to shake. "I have indeed." she paused and glanced mischeviously at Sam. "What do you say we have with the Captain of the Knotted Knickers?"

Cera shot Sam a seductive glance. "Oh yes," she crooned. "Let's."

Sam took a step back, and nearly tripped over Annie -- she'd been struggling to hide her giggling. He could handle the ladies by themselves, but together? He feared what they were capable of. Sam grabbed Annie's hand and ran. When he dragged her to the treeline a few yards from the base of Cadwell Mountain, he wrapped Annie in his cloak, told her to stay precisely where she was, and ran into the woods like a predator was on his heels. Well, two predators to be exact.

He zig-zagged through the woods, taking a sharp left turn when he heard Syd's bubbly laughter. He took a tight right when he saw Cera racing to cut him off a few feet to the left. He jogged through the woods, taking a twisty, winding path for another ten minutes. Whenever he heard tinkling laugh, or saw Cera's shock of honey-colored hair, he'd back track and weave through the trees. When he was quite sure that he'd lost both of the teasing ladies, he slowed to a walked and started circling back to where he'd left Annie. At first, he heard a rustling branch every few minutes, then every few steps, then every time he moved a muscle.

Sam found himself in a fighting stance, his feet shoulder width apart, his knees bent, and his hands up and ready to protect his face. He scanned the surrounding trees, looking for signs of movement. He should have been looking up. Cera let out a playful cry, and dropped onto his shoulders. Sam jerked in surprise, causing both of them to topple onto the crunchy forest floor.  Cera laughed as she wrestled with Sam. Sam grunted as he tried to fend off Cera, but he was no match for the lithe assassin, who wriggled out of his grip every time he tried to wrap his arms or legs around her. She flipped him onto his stomach and wrapped herself around him. pulling his arm behind his back, Cera took the opportunity to nip at his hear. Sam froze, making Cera bellow with laughter. No matter what Sam tried, he couldn't manage to wiggle out from underneather her; Cera was always one step ahead of him. 

Sam realized Cera was just toying with him, and decided he'd do the same to her. Rocking his body hard to the left, he managed to get on top of her, and decided to do to her exactly what she'd done to him. Tugging her arm up behind her back, he nipped at her ear, and pressed his lips against her neck. She stilled, holding her breathe. Laughing, Sam rolled off of her and onto his back. A barking laugh caused Sam to jump up to his feet, sputtering things about how it's not what it looks like. Cera burst out laughing, calling Syd down from the trees.

"Well," Cera giggled. "We've had our fun. How about we get down to bussiness. Sam?"

He nodded. "Syd," he started. "We need your help."

"With what, exactly?" She asked, eyeing Sam and Cera suspiciously.

"Killing the Cold Assassin." Sam stated, wincing as he said it.

"Lianna the Cold? No. Absolutely no." Syd turned on her heel, grabbed a low branch on a tree and swug herself up into the branches, travelling through the mostly barren treetops back to the mountain.

"Syd!" Cera yelled, following suit.

"Cera!?" Sam called.

She stuck her hand out of a cluster of thick branches and pulled him up to her perch. "C'mon. If her help is the only way to get at Lianna, then we can't let her go."

Cera crouched, then launched herself onto the nearest tree. "Sam," she shouted back at him. "Get moving!"

"How in the king's name am I supposed to do that?" Sam growled, clinging desperately to the tree.

"How in the king's name did you become Captain?" Cera shot back.

Sam glared at her. "Flying through the trees is not included in standard training."

Cera sighed. "Fine, I'll talk you through it. Just hurry!"

Sam nodded. 

"Okay, you're going to need to let go of the tree, then shimmy as close to the end of the branch as you can get." she paused, giving Sam time to do as she instructed. "Perfect, now crouch low, like you're about to start sprinting. Okay, good. Now use the branch to push yourself off, reaching for the next tree. Be careful!" Cera had to scramble to steady Sam when he landed on her tree.

"Thank you." Sam huffed, breathless and flushed. "How many more trees."

Cera groaned. "Why don't you let me hunt he down, talk to her, then bring her back?" 

Sam glared at her. "Because you're an assassin, and assassins are sneaky and cunning."

Cera glared back. "Well you're a soldier, and soldiers are loud and incapable."

"I seem to remember saving your life on several occasion." Sam shot.

"And I seem to remember besting you on several occasions." Cere retorted.

Sam shook his head. "Fine," he grimaced. "But if you aren't back within the hour, I will hunt you down myself."

Cera nodded, and like a bolt of lightning, she was off.

Thirteen

Cera flew through the trees like a bird, graceful and 

Impressum

Tag der Veröffentlichung: 06.09.2015

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Widmung:
For Sydney; I love you, you jerk! For Grant, the greatest Man Babe/Male Best Friend a girl could ask for. For Hailey; I got your back Big Toe.