Lyra's POV

"You are late." Comes the King's explosive voice as soon as I stride through the threshold. He doesn't sound fuming, which leads me to believe that the guests he invited have arrived already. He hates to lose his temper when people are around.

It took an hour longer than expected to deal with the people's questions, and I was quite shocked at some of them. The king really had informed them of nothing, unintentionally leaving the job to me. I answered them the best that I could without causing panic with certain questions. Some were wondering of me and why I left, and others were of themselves and their families. What is the financial situation? Has it gotten any better, or will they starve? As far as I've heard from my mother, the situation has not begun to heal itself, as expected. It at least isn't festering into a worse wound in our kingdom's side, but I suspect it will begin to decrease again soon.

It isn't that I mind, though, I love speaking with my people and asking of their families. I want to know of their complaints and ailments, because I want to assist them in every way I can. The king never liked that about me, but it has never deterred me before.

Speaking to them and seeing they're worried faces makes me want to take action. I know that I need to wed into money and quickly, before my people die of starvation. I couldn't live with myself, especially if it was because of my own selfishness. How could I have ever run from this? It is my duty! I abandoned my people because I was afraid. At least I won't have to marry Sam's father... my life would be as good as gone, then no one would save them. They would most likely be in an even worse situation than they are now, with the king of Whales standing over them.

My Guards follow behind me, footstep falling heavily onto the polished, white marble floors of the quiet room as they escort me to my seat.

Merlin stays at my heels as the others fan out near my side of the room, faces impassive.

"I was tending to some business." I say vaguely, brushing my hair from my face with the back of my hand. Despite the exhaustion weighing heavily on my lids, I smile brightly. I can play this game.

There are several new faces seated at the long mahogany table, but I do not feel any shyness at their attention, even as the heads of their house give me disapproving looks.

My mother appears as though she may faint when she sees that I wear the same clothes that I went riding in. A princess should be dressed and manicured to perfection, not wearing men's clothing and boots. If it were up to her, she would have me riding side saddle in my most expensive dresses and ruining them when Lasreal would try bucking me off because I would have poor grip. Thank God my father doesn't mind, so I may dress how I wish. He only wants me looking proper when we have guests, which is why his dark eyes narrow when I glance at them.

This makes my smile widen.

I continue to my seat next to the king confidently, allowing Merlin to pull the chair out for me and push it back in politely once I've sat.

I look up at him. "Thank you, Merlin. It would be pleasing if you would check on Camisêal and the new recruits and report back to me. I'm curious to see how they are coming along."

My father looks irritable at me for giving my own men orders, but doesn't command him to stay.

This room is heavily guarded as it is, my mother and father's Guardsmen lining the walls and watching the doors, due to the royal family being in one place. It was by his orders that the new men be tried for their positions, so he cannot complain that I want to know what my new Guards are like. I'll end up going to see them for myself after this anyway, but I love to irk my father by giving my men commands.

"Of course, my Lady." Merlin says, stepping back and bowing low, fist to his heart. He strides off and I turn to my parents, a pleased smile on my face.

The weight of my previous errand presses on me heavily, the thoughts of the crying widow and her son ever present, but I refuse to let my father see me cry over anything.

"Darling," comes my mother's soft voice. She gives me a hard look though, through her beautiful smile. "You haven't changed?"

I hold her gaze. "Forgive me, mother, no. I was out riding, and I found that I was late as it was. I had no time to change if I was to make it."

My father clenches his jaw slightly, but holds is arm out to drive my attention towards the guests. "Daughter, I introduce to you Sir Aureus Staph and his charming family."

I look to the four people, not at all surprised to see two of them to be handsome young men. Of course, that is why my parents invited them. I dip my head at them politely anyhow, with a fake smile. "How do you do?"

"Very well, thank you, my Lady. May I introduce my wife, the Lady Rosemary Staph, and my eldest sons, Danák and Kagan, future Dukes."

I feel as though the man who is speaking is attempting to impress me, so I nod. "Very good, Sir. My apologies for keeping you waiting."

Sir Aureus is a rather fleshy man in his forties, hair already turning a limp grey color. He dresses smartly, wearing an expressive, red satin coat with gold buttons, but I am not fooled by his inviting smile.

I can see the poorly masked look in the older son's grey eyes, despite his charming demeanor. He is under a lot of pressure from his parents, most likely for failing to take a wife yet. He appears to be in his mid twenties, the age when most suitors find a woman to marry.

I am also not fooled by the glint of jealous hunger in the Lady Staph's eyes and the costly jewels around her throat. She wants our money, and nothing more. She looks me up and down, seemingly unimpressed by what she sees.

I would seem plain to a woman like her, with my face clear of additives, no beautiful dress cradling me, and no precious gems at my fingers or dangling from my ears. I only wear the silver locket that my mother gave me, tucked into the front of my tunic. Very plain, indeed.

Rosemary, on the other hand, has enough gold and rubies on her person to sink her in a lake. Her lips are as red as blood, and she has hungry brown eyes that now size up my mother. If the Lady Staph is arrogant enough to judge the queen, her jealousy has made her more daft than a turkey. Her eyes fall on the sapphires dangling from my mother's ears, and they flash with wanting.

I clear my throat, staring at her openly and shake my head, just slightly. I wouldn't do that. I tell her mentally, though I know she won't hear it.

Her face turns the color of the gems on her fingers and she looks away from me quickly, attempting to hide her flush. I wish so badly to tell them whom I've spent the last few months with, and that I can read each of them like a book. But, I don't do that. Instead I fake another smile, cheeks aching at the forged wideness of it.

The younger son, Kagan, seems amused at my attire and demeanor, and flashes a true grin in my direction. His hazel eyes dance from where he sits diagonal from me, and shoots me a playful wink. He appears to be twenty or younger, and his eyes have yet to match the dullness of his brothers. He does not yet know the pressure of needing to find a wife, less he be cut off from the family wealth.

It is quite the burden, I know... unless you take the same selfish path as me, and runaway from your problems out of stubborn pride. I do not know that I would chose to do that again, but had I not, I would not have met the mercenaries or Sam, in time to save me from his father, at least.

I raise my eyebrows at Kagan, but can't help the small smirk that slips from beneath my mask of fraudulent perfection. This may not be as hard to endure as I first thought. This man acts like such a child that it could stand to be an amusing meal after all.

A half an hour later we are midway through our chilled soup and conversations of the ending war, when the doors of the hall are opened.

I look up, grateful for the distraction, but nearly spit my soup when I see Prince Sam come striding in with Guards flanking him. He is dressed in his green colors, the eagle on the chest of the well-woven mail of his breast, his sword at his side.

He pauses to bow low, directing a question at my father. "Pardon me, your highness'. May I speak with your daughter for just a moment? I am afraid it is urgent."

The word 'urgent' makes my mind drift to Jed, and I stand quickly, curtsying at the guests. "Please, excuse me just a moment."

Before anyone can voice their obvious disapproval, I meet Sam and let him lead me away from the group, a hand brushing my waist.

I ignore this as I whisper my questions, too worried to mind this brief interaction terribly. "What is it? Jed isn't harmed, is he?"

Sam's face twists into something nearly comical. "Jed? No, I haven't heard of him today. It is about your Hana."

My eyes brighten. "Have you located him?" I ask hopefully.

He gives a tired half smile. "After a night of work, yes, the prisoner has spoken of the location. I am here to inform you that I am taking my leave now. I pray to return with your guardsmen well and in tow."

I feel as though I could hug him, but restrain myself. "Truly? How did you do it? You got that information in one night of questioning? The man was as cocky as anything! How did you break him?"

He turns his face away, a muscle in his jaw jumping. "I've had practice." His flat tone of voice leaves my suspecting that he does not take pride in this. He clears his throat uncomfortably and speaks again. "I will leave Lance with you, as I will have enough men to accompany me on the journey."

I touch his arm, and he looks at me, shaking the look of despair from his face. His fern colored eyes watch me with what I decipher as determination, before he blinks and it is gone.

"Thank you." My previous smile suddenly becoming much smaller as I remember something I meant to tell him long before this. "Keep an eye for two other Guards that may be with Hana. He was not alone when he was taken, and I fear the worst for them all." Guilt riddles me to the core at having nearly forgotten to notify Sam of the other men.

At my worry, he reaches for me, but stops short, mindful of our company in the room. His hand drops into a clenched fist at his sides. "I will do what I can for them, do not despair. What are they're names, so I may call them?"

I swallow. "Castiel and Michael, they are good men."

He nods, taking them into account. "Good, now I should know how to address them when I find them."

I note that he says he will find them, and I sigh, grateful for his determination. "Thank you for this, Sam. I owe you."

He takes a step back and bows to me, taking me off guard. "You owe me nothing, my Lady Lyra," He strengthens, a hand at the hilt on his belt habitually, as if suddenly learning the chivalry of a Knight. "Think of it as an apology for previous behavior. We all have a role to play, do we not? " He continues, before leaving me with a puzzled look on my face to stride back towards the door. Before exiting, he turns to bow again at my father. "Please pardon the rude interruption, your highness. I will return here in a week, with your allowance."

My father inclines his head, crown flashing in the sunlight that filters through the stainglass windows. "May I ask where you are going? "

Sam flashes a straight, white smile. "Of course. I have interrogated last night's offender, and took it upon myself to gain the location of the missing men. I plan to go to them, and return them to your care."

The king seems slightly taken back at the change in the Prince's mannerisms, but nods slightly, waving a hand. "Good, Good. Go, then." I get the air that he is not pleased that this was taken care of without his oversee, but he saves that anger to bring to a boil later.

Sam's eyes meet mine as he bows once more. "Thank you, your highness." Then to me, "I will bring them back."

I nod, making my lower lip stiff as a lump threatens in my throat. I watch him stride away with his guards until our eyes meet just as the last gap in the door is sealed.

I stand there a beat longer, just taking a breath and saying a prayer for the lot of them that are leaving. My father clears his throat, signalling that I should come back to the conversation. I take my seat once more with the help of Danák, the older Staph son, who gives me a warm smile that doesn't touch his eyes.

Even as the second course of food is brought out, I can't stop thinking of what Sam said.

We all have a role to play, do we not?

What could he have meant by that? Was all of his previous pig-like behavior courtesy of an act? Was he trying to make me hate him? I leave the steaming plate of food untouched, too distracted by my thousands of thoughts.

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A/N

Da-da-daahhh!

A new chapter early for you guys, because I owe it to you! Hope you like it.

I typically try to update within a week and a half of previous published chapters, but that clearly doesn't always happen... rarely do I update early, so I apologize for that.

Always yours,

-A.