A/N

So sorry my love's, I made an author's error that I hadn't noticed until all of your comments in the last chapter: "I let Hana lead me away," (I believe that's correct) was supposed to be Lance, not Hana! I've tried to fix it but for some reason, it won't save the new edited copy. I must have been thinking about Hana what I wrote that- he is one of my favorite characters I've created and I dearly enjoy writing him, so believe me when I say I don't like any harm coming to him either! Quarrels of becoming a good author: sometimes characters need to die (Jensen) and others need to go through certain hardships to become aligned with the plot and to help build on their character or the character of others. P.s. Hana Is pronounced Ha-a-na, the a is long.

Also, I sign the "A." At the bottom of each authors note because my first name begins with an A... I don't even watch pretty little liers, sorry! Purely coincidence there.
Now, on with the show!

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Lyra's POV

I can only imagine what my face must look like as I stare, mouth partially agape, at Prince Sam. "Y-your serious, aren't you? This isn't some sort of mental joke?" I ask hopefully.

He keeps his piercing gaze trained on me, his face never changing into something that would give me a hint as to this being made up. He slowly shakes his head at my questions, face as serious as death.

I swallow, and look to my brother, who is leering at Sam in a way that a Knight would never be permitted to do in the direction of a Prince. He must really not work for him, then. Perhaps they are partners? They seem to irk each other a great deal.

Lance looks to me, his face showing his mental anguish. "Lyra, I am so sorry-"

I stand slowly, and begin to pace the floor with cautious steps, wringing my hands as I try to comprehend what I've been told.
"Why should you be concerned if I live or die? What is in all of this for you?"

Lance shakes his head. "Child, you must know that I joined this conspiracy to protect you. I only lied to shield you from this evil."

I cast him a poisonous look. "The question was directed at Sam. I don't want to hear of your excuses anymore, Lance. I've heard enough of them since you've returned to make me sick."

I haven't called him by his name with that tone of voice in a long while, and the shock is evident on his features. He looks at me a long moment, before hanging his head with what I decipher as shame, and falls silent.

"You shouldn't be so hard on him, he was trying to- "

"Protect me, yes, yes, I know." I rudely interrupt Sam, throwing my hands up with irritation. This night is suffocating me and I feel the stale air settling with irritation and short fuses.

"I've got my reasons, and I like my privacy." Sam brushes his hair back and starts for my door after staring at me a few beats without another word, as I am trying to come up with something to say.

I pause my pacing. "Wait, where are you going? You can't dump a load like this on me and just leave!" I shout, holding my hands up with disbelief.

He pauses, hand on the door frame and looks over his shoulder at me. "I will go oversee the interrogation of the prisoner and check on Jensen's body. I take it you would like to call in any family he had?"

I become very quiet as I nod, my heated gaze dropping. "Yes." Any anger I just had fizzles out with the smoke of a water logged fire. It is hard to remember that I should be upset with Sam when he's promised to do what he has. None of this is his burden, yet he's taken it upon his shoulders like it is his to own. Perhaps he is more considerate that I first thought.

Sam's eyes soften from across the room. "I will see what information I can extract from the prisoner when he wakes," He swallows and turns away before continuing. "I will set out for Hana as soon as I get a location. In the mean time, Lance will answer any questions you have about all of this." I note the implication in his voice that I will, indeed, have more questions as he makes his exit, leaving the bitter taste of betrayal in his steps.

A brooding silence falls for a beat or two before I turn to Lance, my arms crossed. "Tell me everything."

-

Prince Sam's POV

The dungeons smell like mildew and urine and a few other fowl things that I don't care to place. It would be darker than night of not for the torch in my grasp, and the thought a of window upgrade comes to mind. Of course I know that there cannot be any less a prisoner escape, but ventilation would be helpful presently. Nonetheless, this is not a place I'd be keen on staying in for long.

I have the Captain of my Guard at my side, also holding a torch and I hear him suck in a breath as soon as the stench hits him.

"Sir, if I may ask," he says, sounding strangled from the effort of speaking through the stink. "Why don't you wait for the Kings men do the dirty work?"

"Because, Thomas," I say with slight irritation, eyeing a few rats who's eyes glow in the fire light before scurrying away with the sound of claws on stone. "It will be too late come the morning. I need this information tonight."

Thomas is a skilled fighter, and can even hold his own against me for a while but he is in no way the brightest of my Guard- unlike Lyra's brilliantly crafted protection, which only consists of the finest fighters and the smartest men. I wonder if she placed her Guard herself? She is old enough to chose her own men now, not just accept those whom her father throws in, and she seems to have a bond with each of them. Each man was carefully thought out and placed with precision with the intent of protecting their Princess with their lives.

Her scream haunts me even now, when she called out the name of her fallen Guardsmen. I would never admit it, but I am rather amazed at the way she was blinded by her sorrow at first, and then by the rage at the prisoner. I would have never guessed a Princess of any sort to beat a man unconscious, for killing a Guard or anything else. Most ladies would faint at a bee sting but she seemed to feel no pain in that moment. We are raised learning that men can be replaced, as if they are just things, but with Lyra it isn't about the dresses or the jewelry. It is about her men, her people, and about Lasreal. To her, each individual man, woman and child are their own person, and she cares for every one of them and their needs. The pain she feels when one of them is killed is much more than any royal should be capable of feeling at all.

I've never seen a bond quite as strong between a Rider and a Vann Hest as it is with Lyra and Lasreal. All Daziràs, my Vann Hest, has done since we've arrived here is strain and scream at our bond, kicking at the walls of his stall and trying to tear Lasreal apart. He's nearly taken my fingers off before: he lashes at me quite often, actually, and I've had him since I was eight. Our bond is not very strong, just enough so to keep him controlled... mostly. We don't trust each other at all, but I've seen those two. They make riding seem like an art, and Lyra controls her beast in such a way that would give any other Rider a splitting headache due to the concentration. And she seems to enjoy riding her Vann Hest like it is the best thing in this world to her. She makes riding a beautiful thing. Lyra is a very remarkable woman, unlike any I've ever seen... I admire originality.

I've sent for one of my Guards and Merlin, I believe, one of Lyra's men, to tell the fallen Guardsmen's family of his untimely demise. It turns out, that Merlin is one of Jensen's cousins, and was deeply saddened by the loss- he held his ground and stature, though, as he was speaking with a Prince, but it was easy to see the pain in his eyes. Jensen must have been a very good man to be missed so much.

The truth as to why I've decided to become the foundation beneath the organization to protect Lyra? Why I would murder my own father to keep her safe? She is more important to this age than anyone knows, yet. There are other forces, including my father, who wish her dead to prevent what she will do in the future from occurring.

Like my mother before me, bless her soul, I have been gifted with sight, meaning that I can glimpses into the future- but I only see what God shows me. I have no way of forcing a sighting, or any control of what I see. All I know, is that my sightings are never wrong, no matter how horrible they might be.

I've seen Lyra, sometime in the future several years, as her dark hair is long again. She is in the throne room, holding the hand of a small boy who is walking by her side. "Her son," a voice whispered to me.

The boy looks up at me, his black hair too dark to be a perfect match of his mother's, and his green eyes blink at me as he grins. He holds his arms up to me, as if asking to be picked up. The vision ends there, and was followed by another a few days after the previous.

The same boy, only in his mid-twenties now, is riding on a blood red Vann Hest, leading at the head of a massive army. He has no fear as he heads the charge, his beasts scream showing through his own battle cry. The man and the beast have a very strong bond, like Lyra and Lasreal, and he has a nobleness about him that, for some reason, makes me proud.

Once I've collaborated with another seer, I learned that the war I saw the raven haired man leading, was to be the greatest war these nations have ever seen. Lyra's son is the King, the leader of this rebellion. The evil in this world wants to kill Lyra to prevent her son from being born. That is when I realized I would have to come and protect her from what she cannot see.

The Evil doesn't want this war to be fought, which leads me to conclude that the rebellion must be against them. Any seers that they have will have been able to see the outcome of this war, I am sure. Judging by the rapid attempts at her safety, I would say that the rebellion doesn't end well for the darkness.

There has been more attempts on her life that just tonight, that Lyra doesn't know about. My men are fighting those who killed her Guardsmen as we speak. They have been working behind the veil since we got Lyra out of the mercenaries' grasps. For some reason, the evil ones will not come near the small group that she was in... I am suspicious of the ring leader of the group, though I cannot say what side he is on. He hadn't tried to harm her, but he also didn't know that she was the Princess at the time, either.

We come to a doorway at the end of the slippery, mold caked stairs, and I nod for my Guardsmen to open it. Just as I am about to step inside of the torch-lit room, a vision stops my feet from moving any further.

A man, young and blonde, is climbing up a wall, bare-handed and in the darkness. He seems to have a bow slung over his body, but I see no quiver, and I note the slight breeze and his crystallized breath. For some reason, I recognize the stone as that of the outside of the castle, and the man from the mercenary group. My sight is cut off and I am brought back to the present, my hand finding the threshold of the door to support me.

Has he come here to harm her? I cannot tell when this is going to take place, but I am not in the mood to take any chances, not with her.

"Start without me, you know what to ask him. I will be back shortly." I say hurriedly, before bolting and slipping on grime as fast as I can back up the treacherous steps. Once I see a window I go to it and look out of it.

The darkness is nearly the same shade of midnight as in my vision, and once I bang the thing open I exhale. My breath comes out a white fog and wisps away, into the cold breeze. The time of the sighted vision is nearing quickly.

I leave the window ajar as I turn to run through the corridors, memory helping me to find Lyra's room. It is in the same hallway as mine, so it isn't hard to remember. That, and I memorized it and the way to it the moment I walked past it for the first time. Since I've been here I've managed to make a mental map of how to get to her room from nearly every hallway, and which routs are the quickest, in case the need ever aroused.

It is times like this, when I'm grateful for my thinking ahead.

-

Lyra's POV

I cast an anxious glance towards my widow, praying that if Kaladin is out there that he's heard the gossip of what has happened, and decided against coming back tonight. I'm not certain what the risks of being seen by Lance would be, but I can imagine it wouldn't be great.
Lance has recommenced with washing my wounds, and is wrapping my split and bruised knuckles in silence. As Sam ordered, he answered all of the questions I had. I sit in silence now, chewing my lower lip as I contemplate what I've heard, trying to absorb it... it isn't working.

Sleep weights on me like a stone in a river, the exhaustion of this evenings events having drained me both physically, and emotionally. I still have to tell Jensen's family of his murder- that will be devastatingly hard, I already know. I'm not certain how I will keep my tears in line for that, but my father will not be happy about it if he hears of it... I'm sure he is plenty angry with me now.

The noise outside has thinned, and now only servants come and go passed the door now. Things must have calmed down now that a few hours have passed.

I am certain that I will raised at first light to speak with the King and Queen about the events, and have to re-live it as I tell them.

Lance lets me be in my silence, and gently sets my hand into my lap once he's finished.

I open my eyes and lift my head from my chest, rubbing my eye with my good hand with a yawn. "Sorry."

My brother shakes his head and leans forward to kiss the crown of my head. "Don't be, you should rest. You've been through too much today, and it starts again tomorrow. I am so very sorry, Lyra, about everything."

I wave him off. "I understand now, thank you."

Lance smiles and stands up, right as the door to my chambers flies open, startling us both as Sam comes barreling through.
"Am I too late? " he breathes, eyes going to the window near my bed.

"Too late for what, exactly?" I ask anxiously. Has someone outside see Kaladin climbing the walls?

Sam goes to the window, and waits patiently beside it, as if he knows that someone is about to come through it.

"You're overreacting, no one is going to come in through the window! " I try to say convincingly, rising to my feet.
"Sam!" I say, when he doesn't answer.

I am about to march over and escort him put myself, when there is a small tap on the outside of the window. I left it unlocked, but I'm sure a servant saw it and locked it for my protection.

My heart leaps into my throat and I rush to Sam, but not soon enough. He swiftly flips the latch and reaches through the open window, and with strength I didn't know he possessed, yanks a man through with one arm.

Jed spills onto my carpet, his eyes large and round as he looks up at the two men in my chambers.

"Jed?" I ask, going to him and squatting down to his level curiously. Someone lifts me by the waist up and away from him.

"Lyra, stay away, he isn't safe." Sam growls, glancing in my direction.

Jed looks to me for help.

"No, stop! He's my friend, he's been coming here at night as of late to help protect me!" Lance puts me down, but keeps a hand on my arm to prevent me from running towards Jed again.

I duck under my brother anyways, and dart forward to Jed before anyone can grab me again. I help him up, and he takes my offer, his eyes never leaving Sam.

"Why are you still here?" Jed spits, eying the Prince up and down.

I rest a hand on his arm, making him look at me. "If I tell you something, will you just listen?"

"Lyra, don't." Sam growls deeply, but I ignore him, and so does Jed.
He turns his inattention back to be after glaring at Sam a moment, and searches me with the soft grey eyes that I've missed so much. He reaches to caress my cheek. "If you wish, Lyra. But," he says, casting a look at the other two. "I am not leaving your side the rest of the night. I have some questions of my own."

-

Annd here's your update! Hope it helped clear some things up. Feel free to comment with any questions you might still have lingering around up there in your beautiful noggins!

-A.