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Leafblade

By: Isaac Coyote

Chapter 2: Liandra of Another World

King Alshaer made his way towards the front of the manor without hesitation, with a look of contentment on his face. He was an older wolf, nearing his forties in age. His fur was travel-worn and dusty, but the silvers of his fur still shone as though the sun itself hid beneath his hide. He was rather fit, and looked a good five years younger than his proper age. His clothing was simple enough for traveling, a brown traveling tunic and a pair of blue breeches, but still had an air of nobility to the style. His blue eyes held a commanding and intimidating presence to them, which was only enhanced by his perfect posture. Strapped on his back was a short sword, with the hilt sticking just over his right shoulder.

Liandra, Princess of the Alshaer Kingdom, followed behind him. While her features expressed a large amount of relief, she did not share the same contentment of her father. Liandra was an extremely beautiful wolf, with snow white fur and passionate blue eyes. Her eyes also had a constant distant look, as if Liandra wasn't quite there all the time. Her dress was a faded lavender, designed specifically for travel. It was not too loose around her legs, in order to prevent it from getting caught, yet at the same time not so tight that walking was a task on its own. The sleeves started just below her shoulders and extended just past her elbows.

Tarin was trying to puzzle out in his mind why the King and Princess were walking up to the manor instead of by their usual carriage. He still hadn't figured it out when Lady Aunair nudged Tarin forward, silently reminding that he needed to move. He fell in behind Princess Liandra, just to her left, by the time she reached the front steps. King Alshaer barely acknowledged Tarin when he fell in place, but Liandra gave him a forced, but friendly, smile. Tarin returned the smile politely, but he did not feel it. If she was acknowledging him now, then something was wrong. She typically pretended not to see Tarin until she needed him, or was instructing him. It seemed she once heard her father say that a good servant should not be seen unless it's needed, and she misunderstood his meaning.

Lord Aunair moved to greet King Alshaer and Princess Liandra halfway up the stairs. As a measure of formality, Lord Aunair bowed to the King. Lady Aunair wasn't far behind, curtseying to the King. King Alshaer motioned with one paw for them to stand, and they returned completely to their feet.

"It is an honor that you grace us with your presence, your Majesty." Lord Aunair replies grandiosely.

King Alshaer places a paw over his eyes, letting a small sigh escape from his muzzle. "Can we skip the formalities, old friend? Just this once?" He let his paw fall and met Lord Aunair's gaze. "My daughter and I have had a long trip. If at all possible, could a bath be prepared for us?"

"Right away, your Majesty." Lord Aunair replied before turning and giving two quick orders to the servants at the door. They quickly ran into the manor, not even giving a "yes milord" in a reply. Lord Aunair paid no notice to this slip. "Your baths will be ready immediately." He eyed Princess Liandra a moment, and then glanced to Tarin. Tarin shuddered, not sure what to expect from that look. "Would her Highness perhaps prefer another servant to aid you, even if just for your bath?"

Liandra gave Lord Aunair a confused look. "Whatever for, my Lord?"

King Alshaer patted Liandra on the back. "It is alright, daughter. If you do not mind, I would wish to steal away your loaned body for the sake of my bath." He looked to Tarin, then back to Liandra. "This is, of course, if you would be so kind as to allow it."

Liandra gave Tarin a quick, uncertain, look before nodding. "If you wish, father." She turned and spoke to Tarin this time. "Toroy, you are to remain with my father for the duration of his bath, and when he dismisses you, find me immediately. Do not delay."

Tarin nodded, bowing his head. "Yes, your Highness." Tarin was growing more and more confused. Both the princess and the King had now specifically requested him, for whatever reason they had. Tarin desperately wanted to know why he had the royal family's attention today, but a good part of him also dreaded finding out. He moved to the King and bowed. "I am at your Majesty's command."

Tarin did not look up from his bow, so he could not see King Alshaer's immediate reaction, but there was the sound of amusement in his voice when he spoke. "If you would be so kind as to lead me to my bath, young Tarin."

"Yes, your Majesty." Tarin replied, straightening from his bow and starting to move towards the manor. "If you would follow me."

Tarin almost dared a glance at Rayac as he passed, but he didn't think he could do so unnoticed. He thought he saw a smile on his friend's face, but out of the corner of his eye, it could've been anything.

Tarin led the King to the guest bath in silence. The King, however, did not remain silent during the entire walk. His Majesty felt it necessary to inform Tarin of the road conditions between Alshaer and the Aunair Manor. Tarin politely listened, just enough to reproduce the important parts if he needed to, but the condition of travel didn't seem that interesting to him.

Upon arriving at the bath, Tarin held the door open and followed the King inside. The bath was ready, steam rising from the hot water in the tub in the middle of the room. "If your Majesty does not object," Tarin offered, "I may assist you as you need."

"Oh, but I do object." King Alshaer replied kindly. "The bath is one of the few luxuries I get to enjoy doing for myself. I do appreciate your offer, young one. Thank you."

Tarin was getting frustrated at the day. Every time he was just getting his mind straight, something would confuse him again. The King wanted him to accompany him to the bath, but he did not want help. "Then what purpose do I have, your Majesty?" As soon as the words were out, Tarin realized how bad they came off, so he hurriedly added. "I find I can assist better by knowing my tasks prior to needing be done, as it also aids your Majesty's enjoyment of the bath."

"I simply request your company and your conversation." King Alshaer replied. "Stand or sit where you feel comfortable and converse with me. It would be good to have a new opinion on a few things."

Tarin needed to sit right then. He would have just sat on the floor, except it would not have gone over well. He found the nearest chair and half-fell into it. He managed to choke back a small yip as he sat on his tail wrong. In their ten years of visiting, King Alshaer hadn't said as many words to him ever. Now he wanted to have a conversation with him. "My opinion means nothing, your Majesty." Tarin half whispered.

"Nonsense." King Alshaer replied, patting Tarin on the shoulder. "I don't expect you to understand, yet. You're too young. Rayac wouldn't understand either." He added, clearly trying to make Tarin feel better despite being told something was beyond him. "When you're older, you will understand." With that, his Majesty began to remove his clothing.

Tarin watched the king undress with a sort of withdrawn appeal. His Majesty was not a young wolf, but he was still in good form. His muscles were visible around the thick parts of his arms and legs, despite the fur covering them. Even though most of it was dirty and somewhat caked, his fur was a beautiful shade of silver that resonated light even with a lack of a natural source to aid it. His tail was perfectly groomed, and had a very small amount of dust and dirt on it. The fur did not lie down neatly, but even that appeared intentional. His Majesty's buttocks was firm, matching the perfection of the rest of the king's body. Even his sheath, the part Tarin paid the least amount of attention to, was decently sized, suggesting that what was hidden beneath was a good size as well. Tarin lowered his head, no longer wanting to see the king's naked body. It made him all the more ashamed of his own.

The faint sound of splashing informed Tarin that his Majesty had safely retreated into the tub, making it safe to look again. A small sigh escaped the king's muzzle. "One of the few luxuries I am allowed to enjoy in peace."

"Is everything to your liking, your Majesty?" Tarin inquired politely.

King Alshaer smiled, closing his eyes. "Everything is perfect, thank you." He sat in silence for a moment, enjoying the relaxing sensation of the hot bath. "What do you know of the war, young Tarin?" He spoke up finally.

Tarin looked confused for a moment, not sure what he expected to hear. With no idea what the king wanted, he spoke honestly. "Not much, your Majesty. Only what Master Rayac tells me."

"What are your thoughts on the war?"

Tarin hesitated. "I have no opinion, your Majesty. It does not affect me."

The king lifted his head to look at Tarin. Seriousness rested in his eyes. "But it does affect you, even if you do not realize." He sat up, exposing his bare chest. "You must hold some opinion."

"I have the opinion given to me, your Majesty." Tarin replied automatically.

"I am disappointed in the way you were raised." The king replied bluntly. "Lord Aunair speaks little of your upbringing, and Lady Aunair simply tells me that it is not important. Perhaps I can speak with your parents about your raisings. Where are they?"

"They died, your Majesty." Tarin replied, sullenly. "Almost twelve years ago." He lowered his head, not taking his eyes off the king as he spoke, but face turned to the ground.

His Majesty's face lost all emotion. He watched Tarin for a moment, seemingly at a loss for words. The silence dragged, and Tarin nearly apologized for having responded as he did, but the king spoke before he had a chance to voice his thought. "I apologize; I had no right to pry into your past."

Tarin lifted his eyes, without moving his head, to look at King Alshaer. "I do not even remember it, your Majesty. I was told I witnessed it, but I was a young pup when it happened."

The king stood up and began working the soap through his fur, but it was a distracted action, as all of his attention was on the young coyote speaking to him. Tarin averted his eyes again, feelings of inferiority once again washing over him. "You have my assurance that I will not hold anything against you if you do not wish to continue this conversation."

"I will answer any questions you wish to ask, your Majesty." Tarin replied solemnly.

The swishing of water told Tarin that the king was moving in the tub. The smell of wet fur and soap growing stronger should have been a hint that King Alshaer was moving closer, but he was wrapped up in his attempt at not admiring the artistic beauty of the king's body that he didn't realize he was right over him until he had one finger under Tarin's chin, lifting his face to look at the king. King Alshaer was still standing in the tub, but his upper half was leaning forward, just enough to reach Tarin. "I rarely get the opportunity to speak so candidly with my subjects. It is a difficult task to remind myself what I must do as King to better the lives of those beneath me."

Tarin resisted the urge to pull away. That one finger held him in place better than if King Alshaer had grabbed his entire muzzle with his paw. "Your Majesty is wise," He replied politely. "Whatever you decide is what is best."

King Alshaer barked a mirthless laugh. "I have advisors to be wise for me. All I can offer is thoughtful." He smiled kindly at Tarin. "Forgive me. You are a bit too young to understand politics." He straightened, releasing his imaginary hold on Tarin's muzzle. Tarin did his best to keep eye contact while King Alshaer continued cleaning dirt out of his fur. "I ask again, young Tarin, for your opinion on the war."

"Why do they fight?" Tarin asked directly. He almost overlooked the fact that he didn't properly address the king, but if King Alshaer noticed, he did not seem to mind the oversight.

"That is a very simple question," King Alshaer replied, not giving Tarin a chance to correct his mistake, "that has a far more complicated answer." The king slid back into the water, and began to explain. "Each individual finds their own reason to fight. Some fight for glory. Some fight for power. Some simply fight to be fighting."

"That does not make sense, your Majesty." Tarin responded, remembering his proper reply this time.

"You have to understand how people think, pup." King Alshaer responded. "There are those who have found fighting to be the only thing they are good at, and revel in doing something well. There are those who also revel in fighting, but for different reasons, reasons we may not fully understand."

Tarin stared at the edge of the tub, but he didn't really see it. His mind was trying to comprehend the information he just received. "The war is being fought because someone likes to fight, your Majesty?"

"I had not put that thought together," King Alshaer admitted. "It is a simple thought, too simple, yet quite possible." He nodded. "Though there is probably more to it."

"How do you stop a war motivated by a desire for combat?"

King Alshaer stood up and stepped out of the tub. Tarin was on his feet and presenting a towel to the king before he was fully out of the tub. He took the towel and began drying off his fur. "I would assume by eliminating the source." He offered while he dried himself off. "However, it is never that simple."

Tarin moved to drain the tub, as an excuse to not to watch the king toweling himself off. "Can you not talk with them? Something can be done if you negotiate, right?"

Tarin nearly jumped when King Alshaer placed a paw on his shoulder. "The innocence of youth." He said quietly, mostly to himself. "We are attempting that route, young Tarin, though we do not expect success. We have to try, though, for we do not like the alternative."

Tarin turned to face his Majesty. "What is the alternative?"

King Alshaer gave his shoulder a tight squeeze. That simple gesture spoke more than anything the king could say. "Sending good men to die, creating more young pups like yourself, without a father to raise them."

With nothing to say in response, Tarin fell silent. King Alshaer finished drying off and redressed in clothes brought to him from another servant. After completely dressing and stepping back into the hallway, the king spoke again. "Thank you very much for your company, and I will take your words to heart. They gave me much to think about."

"I said nothing important, your Majesty." Tarin replied humbly.

"One day you will learn your true value. You are more intelligent than you give yourself credit for." He patted Tarin on the shoulder and smiled. "Now, if you'd be so kind as to lead me to the dining hall. I seem to have forgotten my way."

Tarin knew this was a lie. King Alshaer may not visit as often as the Princess did, but he visited often enough to know his way around. His Majesty had found his way to the dining hall several times in the past unassisted. Tarin suspected there was something more to the request, but did not question it, instead, motioning for the king to follow him. "It is this way, your Majesty."

The stares Tarin received for leading the king felt far worse than the stares he received from following Lady Aunair. The earlier stares were strong in disbelief, but the servants he passed were frozen in pure shock. Tarin idly wondered if all this attention was a further form of punishment for his adventure with Rayac earlier in the day.

He felt a leap of joy when he saw the door to the dining hall. He decided silently that he would deposit the king here, and then disappear for some time alone, under the guise of searching for the princess, but his plan was foiled almost immediately after stepping into the dining room.

Tarin wasn't allowed in the dining room very often, so each time he was allowed entrance, the feeling of awe always returned. The dining hall was aptly named. While most rooms in the manor were large, the dining hall was unnecessarily spacious. In the center of the room was a large table, with an ornate table cloth, white lace trimming. It was a special gift to Lady Aunair. The table easily sat thirty, and there were as many chairs around the table as proof of this boast. Each chair was hand-carved, the outline designed to resemble roses. They were even colored to add to the appearance.

Lord Aunair sat in one of the chairs on the opposite side of the table. Aside from him the only other occupant of the dining hall was Princess Liandra, who sat in the chair closest to the door. Her eyes immediately found Tarin as he walked in the door. She wasted no time speaking. "Toroy! There you are. I was feeling so lost without you here." Tarin moved behind her, remembering to be on her left. "That was unkind of you, father, depriving me of his presence." Tarin felt his muzzle burning and did his best to hide his face.

"My apologies, daughter, I had not realized how much time had passed." King Alshaer remarked, only half serious.

"If you would be so kind as to sit," Lord Aunair gestured to a chair next to Liandra. "Supper will be ready shortly, and I am sure you must be hungry from your travels, your Majesty."

King Alshaer sat down in the offered chair immediately. "You would be correct," He replied. "I hope you still have the same cook as last time."

Lord Aunair laughed, "He is the same as he was last visit, as he has been the last ten visits, your Majesty." Lord Aunair sat at this time, across from the King. "Though, cooking aside, perhaps you could offer an explanation as to why you and her Highness were walking instead of on your carriage?"

"Subterfuge." King Alshaer offered simply. "Our coach is a good half a day's travel farther down the road by now." The King leaned back a little, stretching out what was probably a knot from the travels. "I needed to speak to you of important matters, but my presence here must not be known."

Lord Aunair looked a bit confused by this news. Tarin listened quietly, trying not to be noticed, but he didn't understand what this meant. Lord Aunair, at least, seemed to understand that much. "What of the Council of Nine? Are they aware of your presence here?"

"They are aware of my lack of presence in the castle." King Alshaer offered. "They are also aware that I will explain myself upon my return. I fear spies among my numbers, so I could not speak openly. Once I return, it will be safe, as all I wish to discuss will have come to pass."

"What of Prince Kendrick?" Lord Aunair inquired. "Surely he must have had some hand in your plan? Perhaps that friend of his, Captain Benaras?

"Kendrick and Soren had to remain uninformed of this." King Alshaer offered. "Neither one would have sat by idly while I made this trip alone. Besides, the news I bring isn't official yet, and I would prefer they not hear it as of yet."

"And what is it you wish to discuss?"

King Alshaer hesitated, giving Liandra a meaningful glance. Liandra was oblivious to this, as she had just taken an interest in the condition of Tarin's tunic. "This is old and worn. You should have this thrown out."

Tarin, who had barely been paying attention to her, responded automatically, "But your Highness made this for me." Once the words were out, he wished he could have taken them back.

The reactions were not as bad as he had expected, but Lord Aunair was glaring angrily at him. King Alshaer simply smiled, watching Liandra quietly. It was Princess Liandra's response, however, that was unexpected. She smiled brightly, "Oh, it means that much to you?" She practically jumped out of her chair and threw her arms around him.

Lord Aunair glared even harder at Tarin, but his words somehow managed to hold none of the anger his eyes displayed. "Your Highness, it is not proper to touch the servants."

"Oh, but they touch us all the time." Liandra replied simply. "They undress us, they help bathe us, and they dress us." Liandra looked to her father. "And didn't one servant help you in bed that one night a few years ago?"

"That's enough, Liandra," King Alshaer replied quickly. He refused to look at her as he said it, instead studying a spot on the table that might have been too clean for his standards.

Rayac pushed through the doors and made his way towards the table. "My apologies for being late your Majesty, father." He smiled at Liandra, who returned his smile with a dreamy gaze. Rayac gave Tarin a quick wink, but immediately turned and started for his chair without giving Tarin a chance to respond.

"It is of no concern," King Alshaer responded. "We are just waiting for supper to be prepared."

"And you won't have to wait any longer." Lady Aunair interrupted, walking in from the kitchen doors. "As soon as everyone takes their seats, we will have our meal."

The meal was extravagant. There were so many different entrees and meats, sides and things he didn't even recognize, he felt lost just being there. Servants assisted those sitting down in getting what they wanted before returning to the kitchens, leaving Tarin alone with the nobility, standing and watching them eat, everyone except Liandra.

"I am not so certain of this." She commented skeptically, poking a soup sitting in front of her.

"That's Vaeran Mushroom Soup, your Highness." Lady Aunair offered kindly. "You have been eating it since you first visited. I have it made because it is your favorite."

"I am not questioning the validity of its flavor," Liandra whined. "I fear it may be too hot for my delicate tongue."

Lord Aunair smiled, though his eyes held a level of frustration. "I assure you, your Highness, the soup was properly cooled."

"I am not sure." Liandra countered. "Toroy! Test this for me."

Tarin stepped forward reluctantly. "I will do as you command, your Highness."

She spooned up some of her soup and held it out towards him. Tarin was uncertain whether he should take the spoon from her or not. Before he could decide, however, she started speaking. "Open up, so I can put it in." Tarin reluctantly opened his muzzle, and she shoved half the spoon down his throat.

At first, the spoon almost gagged him, but once she retracted the spoon, he got a full taste of the soup. It was the best tasting food he had eaten in his entire life. The flavor was complex, and he had no means to explain it. It was sweet and warm, and he thought he tasted a hint of salt, but everything else was new to him. He wanted more, but he knew better. It took him a moment to regain his composure and realize that Princess Liandra was waiting for a response. He nodded slowly. "It is of sufficient warmth, your Highness. Not too hot."

"But your tongue is hardier than mine." Liandra complained. "My delicate tongue burns easily." She spooned up another portion of soup and held it up. "I want you to taste it again, but this time, imagine how a delicate tongue would react."

Tarin opened his muzzle to protest, but she shoved the spoon down his throat before he could utter the first syllable. Somehow, the second taste was far better than the first. He could imagine a third taste being better, but the more he ate, the more he deprived from the princess. "Your tongue will be safe, your Highness."

"Perhaps you are right." Liandra mused. Tarin felt a small wave of relief, until she looked to Rayac. "What do you think, Rayac dear?"

Rayac smiled innocently at Tarin. "I believe Toroy has your best interest in mind." Tarin resisted glaring at Rayac, as hard a task as it was. He knew better than show open anger at anyone in the presence of Lord Aunair. "However, I do believe he might be saying this only because he feels it is what you want to hear, not because it is true." Tarin's muzzle fell open, and he stared, dumbfounded, at Rayac. He was so shocked by Rayac's words that he almost missed Lord Aunair glaring at Rayac.

"You are right!" Liandra exclaimed. "Toroy, be honest with me." She shoved another spoonful down Tarin's throat before he had enough time to recover from the shock. He swallowed hard, and opened his mouth to reply, but found a large chunk of some unidentified meat shoved into his muzzle. "Try this as well, Toroy. It may be too spicy for my delicate muzzle."

This continued for several minutes. Every time Tarin attempted to inform Princess Liandra that her meal was sufficient, she was shoving something else into his muzzle. Everything she had him eat was far superior to anything he had eaten in his life, and each bite seemed to overshadow the last. He wished he had the chance to savor the meal, but he barely had time to breath before more food was shoved down his throat.

Rayac watched silently, appearing entertained by the whole scene. Lady Aunair watched in silence as well, but she had the decency to hide her smile behind her paw. Lord Aunair glared, growing angrier as more food was given to Tarin. Only King Alshaer tried to interrupt her force-feeding Tarin, but he never got more than half a word out before Liandra was interrupting him with some statement about her food being too hot, or too cold, or some other issue she had with it.

Tarin finally had to take a step back away from Liandra to speak. "Your meal is sufficient, your Highness." He said as meekly as he could, hoping to cover his retreat with his words. His stomach felt as though it would explode from being over-stuffed.

"Very well." Liandra nodded, "I am convinced." She turned from Tarin back to the table, only to discover that she had fed Tarin her entire meal. She looked up, disappointed. "I would like more food."

Lady Aunair nodded, "Do not worry, there is plenty more."

Tarin did not dare move closer to the table as more food was brought out for Princess Liandra, but she seemed to be true to her word. Once she had enough food on her plate to replace what she fed to Tarin, she began eating.

The rest of the meal went by a bit more smoothly. Princess Liandra focused on eating her meal while Lord Aunair and King Alshaer discussed politics and other topics that Tarin didn't understand. He decided it best to pay more attention to the Princess than their conversation. Tarin heard Rayac speak a couple of times, but Tarin didn't pay attention to the words. It wasn't until Rayac stood that Tarin actually paid attention to what was said.

"If I may be excused, I believe I will take a short walk before the sun goes down." Rayac turned to Princess Liandra, "If you would join me, your Highness?"

"Oh, a walk would be divine." Liandra exclaimed. "I just love your mother's garden. It is so beautiful." She smiled warmly in Lady Aunair's direction. "I can imagine the flowers ready to bloom."

Lady Aunair smiled back at the princess. "I am honored you enjoy my garden, your Highness."

Rayac had walked around the table by this time, and was taking Princess Liandra's arm. Either intentionally, or by convenience, Rayac had taken her right arm, which left Tarin to take up his place on her left, without having Rayac walking directly in front of him. The three left in silence.

The garden was not too far from the manor. It was just behind the building itself, and did not take very long to reach. However, because of its location in relation to the manor, in addition to the over-abundance of plant life, it made it the perfect place to hide away for some time to be left alone. This was why Rayac usually took Liandra into the garden alone. Tarin knew this, and looked for opportunities to veer away and give them their privacy. However, each time he thought he was going to get away, Liandra would grab him, point to some random object in the manor and ask him of its origin. Most of the time, Tarin did not know the truth, so he would just apologize for his ignorance.

One time, she pointed to a rug that Tarin knew for a fact was Haetan in origin. When he said as much, she threw her arms around him and said, "You are such a knowledgeable coyote." After that, she refused to detach herself from Tarin, and went on extensively about the Haetan decorations in the castle. Tarin shot a pleading look at Rayac, but Rayac simply laughed and looked away.

Liandra was in the middle of her third attempt at explaining that the throne was not Haetan in design, but the cushion on the throne was, when they arrived at the grove. The grove was the most secluded area of the garden. The trees offered plenty of shade from the sun, and the remaining foliage blocked the view in from the outside. The garden was a myriad of colors, as flowers of every kind capable of growing in the climate could be found, but the grove was a den of green. Only a few flowers actually grew inside the grove, and those tended to bloom on their own. In the center of the grove was a stone bench, simple in design and purpose. While Lady Aunair loved the garden, and was fond of beauty in all its forms, she also enjoyed simplicity. The grove was designed with this thought in mind. It was created as a means for her to escape from the colorful and over-elegant life of nobility to a simpler place. It also served other purposes, which Rayac and Liandra used more often than Tarin thought proper.

Rayac led Liandra to the bench and assisted her in sitting down. Only then did she relinquish her grip on the poor coyote. Once free of her, Tarin made a show of checking all the exits for guards or servants, only as an excuse to be as far away as he possibly could from her. Rayac watched with amused interest, but said nothing to voice his thoughts. Tarin was grateful to his friend for this, because he was not sure his patience could survive a remark from Rayac, even with the Princess present. Once Tarin was sure there were no spies, and that he could approach the Princess without becoming her prisoner again, he returned to the bench and bowed. "Your privacy is assured, your Highness. I will be in the garden proper of you need me."

"You will not." Liandra replied curtly. "I need you to remain here."

Tarin winced. He was afraid she was going to say this. With a small nod, he replied, "As your Highness commands."

"I cannot remain long." Rayac spoke finally. "Your father has news, and I wish to be present when it is to be delivered."

"It is war and politics." Liandra yawned. "Boring and not worth your time."

"But if I am to be Prince, or King, I need to take interest in such things." Rayac explained. "Besides, I fear the news is not good. If I am to receive ill news, I would much prefer hearing it firsthand."

"If that is what you wish, dear." Liandra replied airily. "I shall remain here a while."

"You know I would remain if it was not important." Rayac replied, sounding a little hurt. "It has been a short month since your last visit, when you normally visit every three months. To return so soon..."

Liandra shrugged, "My father does not share with me what he wishes to discuss."

"I understand." Rayac nodded, "I have some time before I need to return. We can continue our discussion from last month, if you wish."

"Oh, but I simply cannot," Liandra replied, covering her face with her paw, embarrassed by something Tarin didn't understand. "It would not be proper."

Rayac's eyes flared with anger for a brief moment, but it died almost as quickly as it was born. "I assure you, it will be fine. Tarin is a close friend, I trust him."

"But he is a servant." Liandra replied immediately. "I would dare not speak of such things in his presence."

Rayac looked to Tarin for a moment, and then shook his head. "Nothing I can say will convince you otherwise?"

Tarin stepped forward. "I can move out of earshot, your Highness." He offered, "Or cover my ears."

"You will do no such thing." Liandra commanded. "It is fine, I do not feel up to discussing such things anyway." Her dreamy voice returned, making Tarin wonder if the command had been real, or if he had imagined it.

Rayac sat down next to Liandra. "If you do not wish to discuss it, I will not force you. It would mean a lot to me if you would." He placed a paw on hers. "I am going to return to the manor now. Mother should be preparing to head to her room for the night, so our fathers should be preparing to discuss what brought you here." He smiled weakly. "At least give it some thought while I am away?"

"I will consider your offer," Liandra replied, sounding too practiced. "I will wait for you here, and will have an answer when you return."

"Thank you," Rayac replied quietly. He leaned forward and placed a kiss on Liandra's cheek. Tarin felt his muzzle start to burn again, so he looked away. Footsteps and the growing scent of Rayac's bathwater told Tarin that Rayac was approaching him. Tarin did not look, though, and he felt Rayac's breath gently caress his ear. "Be careful of her," Rayac whispered. "You don't fully understand her."

Tarin spun around and looked into Rayac's eyes. "I do not understand." Tarin replied.

"And that is my point." Rayac answered, still in a whisper. "Just, be careful around her. You do not know what she is going to do next."

"I am aware of that." Tarin mused sullenly.

Rayac placed a paw on Tarin's shoulder. "Not aware enough." Without another word, Rayac walked past Tarin and out of the grove.

Tarin moved to the Princess, with the intent of asking her what she required of him, but as soon as he was within arms reach of her, she grabbed him and forced him to sit on the bench. Her grip was far stronger than he remembered it being, and his wrist hurt at the point where she grabbed him. She muttered a quick, "Stay," before running to the grove entrance that Rayac had just departed from. All remnants of the flighty, spoiled princess were gone. There was a new person in her place, one that Tarin did not know. He was not sure if he liked it.

Liandra watched the entrance for a moment, and then quickly moved around the grove, checking each entrance before nodding to herself. "I thought he'd never leave." She said flatly. Liandra quickly moved back to where Tarin was sitting. She took both his paws into her own, and dropped to both knees in front of him. "I have a favor I must ask of you, Tarin, servant of the house of Aunair, one that could decide the fate of my kingdom, and our very lives."