I watch as the sun sinks ever lower, shades of indigo starting to bleed through the oranges and pinks, taking them over with their darker contrast.

The silhouettes are becoming harder to see as people, more black blobs than features and clothing. The intruding man doesn't put up a fight, he just raises his hands disarmingly as Hener argues with him, the tip of his blade at the base of the man's throat.

I can't hear what they are saying, but Nikeil, the Guard I sent with Hener, pins the man's arms behind his back, holding them there with his big hands, restraining him. They start to walk over to me.

Looking up at Jensen, I motion in their direction and we start to walk, meeting them half way. What I don't notice at the time, is the twenty or so men who had been waiting for their turn follow as well.

As we get closer to the castle there is faint torch light being lit in the growing darkness, casting an uneven glow upon the man as he is brought to a stop in from of me.

I hold my chin up as I question him. "Who are you?"

The man is in his forties, and has a malicious grin on his face that I don't at all like. There is a dark spot, about the size of a coin on his tunic that looks suspiciously like blood.

Hana comes to my mind. "Speak!" I command, much harsher now with the possibility that the blood may be his.

The man's grin only widens. "Worried about your precious Guardsmen, are we?"

Hener viciously takes the man's sword from its hilt and hands it to Jensen to keep away from him. "What do you know of the missing?" He questions, pressing his blades sharp tip to the man's breast bone.

The stranger laughs. "Oh, no worries they are all still breathing. For now. In the mean time, we thought to pay you a little visit, princess."

Hener breaks the man's skin with his weapon, and blood trickles from the wound. "Where is my brother? " He growls, pushing down harder.

I stay the Knight's hand with a touch of his shoulder. "No, do not kill him. Bring him in for questioning, and we will find out more." I say softly, assuring him. He backs down reluctantly, but keeps his sword drawn.

I have a hard time keeping my voice calm and even, as my blood is running cold. They have Hana. Why would this fiend tell us this so freely? And what does he mean by we? I don't like the sound of this, and the hair on my neck rises with the trepidation that hangs in the air like a thick fog. It is bad enough that I have been out here for so long, and now that the dark is falling like a blanket, an attack on me would be much easier to follow through. It's hard to fight an opponent you cannot see. On top of that with the best of my Guard missing, I feel far to exposed and all to akin to a sheep surrounded by wolves, guarded only by a single shepherd.

"Why would you come here? Who sent you?" I ask, exasperated. I try to keep my mask of indifference in place, but I feel the cracks wearing through. This man wanted to be caught, or else he wouldn't have waltzed right over without a fight, like he is untouchable.

I glance around us, wondering how many men are with him, and where they might be. There must be more than I would like to guess, in order to give this stranger the air of confidence that he carries. The others cannot be a dog's nose away.

The man just smiles wider. "I think you know the answer to that. We have no fear of being captured."

I need to be brought back indoors so I can sort these jumbling thoughts out, and bring this insolent cock in for further questioning.

I turn to Jensen next to me. "Jensen, help Nikeil bring this bastard to the dungeo- " My words are cut off when somethig cuts through the air and hits my Guard in the back with a, thump.

I can't even scream as he falls to the ground. I just stand their with wide eyes as big as a doe. What just happened? Was that an arrow?  Finally, the shock wears off, and hysteria overrides my system. "Jensen!" I scream, my voice losing its calm note as it cracks unevenly.  "Jensen!"

I fall to my knees next to him, and frantically look for a pulse or breath, anything to signal his life is still present. I look down and see the head of an arrow peeking through the flesh of his chest, dripping with dark liquid.

His eyes stare blankly up at the sky, still wide in a startled expression. A fresh, thin trail of blood trickles from the corner of his mouth.

I hold his huge hand in mine, tears falling onto his bloodied uniform, sparkling in the fire light. The sound of rushing feet of more Guards from the castle hurry at my screams.

A sound breaks through my mental barriers, and I slowly turn my head to look towards the source, tears staining my cheeks.  The stranger is laughing. The bastards is laughing.

"Oh, no worries, my lady. This is just the beginning! There is plenty more fun in store for you."
I don't think as my body reacts to the pure, red hot rage that settles over me. I set Jensen's hand on is chest, as gingerly as if I were handling a baby bird, acutely  aware of the warmth already starting to draining from his body. I push myself to my feet.

The next thing I know, my fist is colliding with the man's stomach, causing the blow to reverberate up my arm with the force. I don't feel any pain as  I hit him so hard that he doubles over himself, laughter traded for a grunt of pain and a pathetic  wheeze.

All rational thought leaves me as I continue to hit him. And hit him. And hit him. I've never hit someone so hard all of my life, and I find that I no longer see any more as his blood smears onto my skin. Is it his blood, or mine? I'm vaguely aware of the pain in my knuckles as I hit again, blinded by tears and rage. Every man around me is so caught off guard by my reaction, that no one moves to restrain me. That, or they are all too afraid I'll come after them in this state... and I might.

Flashes of Hana's face comes to my mind: of him laughing, of him worrying over me, every face he's ever made around me. Then, thoughts of him being beaten. Of him being whipped or scarred in other horrible ways. They have him, and there is no telling what they will do to him if I don't find him soon. I have to bring him home.

Following these, pictures of Jensen come to mind as well, and pictures of his family. Of him holding his young son, kissing his pretty wife. Hugging his sister. His life was stollen from him all to soon.

Someone calls my name I think, but I can't hear properly over the rush of blood in my ears.

I hit again, his nose breaking under my fist with a satisfying sound.

Someone calls my name, closer this time.

I draw my arm back to hit the man again, when strong arms wrap around me from behind, pinning my arms down to my sides.  I scream in frustration, struggling and kicking at the air to get out of the man's grasp, trying desperately to hit the bastard stranger again.

The man behind me turns away from the stranger, swinging me further out of reach of the man, who's blood now soaks his tunic front. His head hangs low and blood glints in the approaching fire light as it falls from his chin. I think he is unconscious, only held up by Nikeil's grasp.

"Shhh, Shh, let the anger go. Let it go, Lyra." A man says in my ear, his teeth gritted from the struggle of keeping me stationary.

When I start to see normally again, satisfied that the bastard is unable to laugh anymore and stop my flailing about like a fish, the man behind me releases me.

Flying around like a mad dog, I go to confront him with anger still boiling in my veins.

Prince Sam holds his hands up in surrender, his face soft as the approaching Guards' fire light flickers on his face.

"Lyra!" A familiar voice calls, but I still stare up at Prince Sam, at the astonishing worry on his face. Why should he be concerned about me?

I turn away and my eyes find Lance, who is standing a few feet away. Without a thought, I run to him and bury my face into his hard chest, tears breaking again as a sob racks my body.

He wraps his arms around me securely. "Oh, Lyra... child. It will be alright." He coos, pulling back slightly to see my face.

I can only imagine what I must look like: as scared and insecure as a babe. This is not who I am. I cannot cry in front of my people, I'm supposed to show no weakness. My mother will not be pleased with my unlady like out burst. Neither will the king.

For a moment, my time with the mercenaries had come back, flooding my senses as the rush of a fight washed over me all at once. I cannot let that happen again: I am a princess, not a mercenary, and not a boy, I cannot react impulsively. My tears stop.

Lance finds his knees like I am a child again, and brushes my tears away, cupping my cheeks in his hands. "It will all be okay, Lyra, I promise. I won't let anything bad happen to you." 

I nod as he wipes the last tear away, bringing me to his chest for another embrace. I push against him and clench my jaw as I catch a glimpse of Sam, who had been standing, watching the whole scene. My eyes flicker behind him to the group of men that stand, gawking at their princess.

What kind of lady goes around beating on fugitives?

Guards surround us, cutting off the view of the crowd. "My Lady, are you alright?" My father's Captain asks. "Shall we bring you inside?"

I nod. "Yes, but be cautious. There is a shooter some were- on a building, I think. My Guard was killed." I am able to say without a sob. I'm fairly certain that after my little display, they won't be send in anyone else tonight. "Be certain to take his body in and-" I stop on account of a painful lump in my throat, and I am surprised when Sam speaks from behind me.

"We'll take care of it."

Lance stands, and takes my bloodied hand in his, tearing my eyes away from Sam, who is also protected within the human circle.

"Allow me to escort you inside and we will clean you up." He says, shaking his head at the sight of my injuries.

"I will bring him home for you."

Startled, I look up at Prince Sam again, who is standing above us now with a haunted expression. "I'm sorry I cannot bring your Guard back, but your Capain- for you I will try."

I nod, trying not to cry again and look away, unable to tell him how much his promise really means to me. He has no reason to bring him back, no reason to care, but he does nevertheless. 

I let Lance lead me away, and I look back at Sam as we walk, and my eyes drift to Jensen's lifeless body lying on the ground, glimpsed through armor and swords. My chin becomes weak and I look away, before tears can start again.

-

The castle is buzzing with gossip as I sit at a chair in front of my fireplace, Lance sitting across from me as five Maid servants rush around, preparing supplies to clean my wounds.

Footsteps and shouts can be heard from behind the door of my chambers as Guards and officials try to find out what is going on. My father apparently hasn't given any orders yet.

Sam stands, leaning against my bed post as silently as a shadow. He hasn't said a word since we've gotten back inside.

I am grateful that he is allowing Lance to stay with me now, even if just for a small while. I really shouldn't be alone right now.

A maid tries to take my hand and inspect my injuries, but I shake it away from her. "Leave. All of you." I say bitterly, feeling no kindness tonight.

The activity stops as the ladies stare at me, uncertain if they've heard me correctly.

Lance clears his throat. "I will stay and tend to her wounds. Go prepare the princess some supper, and draw her a hot bath."

I stay silent, staring into the fire as Lance gives them these orders. There is no movement. The maids aren't certain they should listen to Lance, some of them still haven't a clue who he is.

I hear Prince Sam's voice say, "Do as he says," and at the order of a Prince the ladies rush around again, half of them heading for the door while the others go to draw my bath. 

I let Lance take my hand to begin washing the blood from it with water and a cloth from a basin the maids brought in.

I turn my head to Sam. "Thank you," I say quietly.

His eyes flash green in the fire light. "That was impulsive and reckless."

I open my mouth but he continues to speak.

"You could have gotten yourself hurt."

Confused, I draw my brows together. "Why would you care? I am no longer tied to you. I am not your burden." I wince as my knuckles begin to sting at the contact of the water. I must have split them.

Its hard to decipher through the shadows cast onto his face, but it appears that he smiles softly. "Ah, yes. You think I am still just the Prince of Whales."

I've never been more confused.

Lance shoots a look at Sam, which he ignores.

"Tell me Lyra, why do you think I still stay here? I need no more rest, I can leave whenever I feel inclined to."

"I take it isn't for the food." I say dryly. 

He ignores my cheeky comment. "Why should I care about your safety? As you said, you aren't tied to me, correct? "

"I'm not-"

"Why do you think you brother really decided to stay in Whales?"
That one hit me. What is he saying? Is he trying to call my brother a lier?

I turn to Lance, and pull my hand away defensively. "Lance, what is he talking about?"

He sets his cloth down and avoids my gaze. 

"Tell me, brother!" I demand, feeling more hurt by the second. Why didn't he come back to me then, if he really wasn't wounded in battle? 

"Why would you abandon me? Why would you leave me? I needed you! " I question, my voice rising with each sentence.

"Lyra, I did it to protect you."

"In what way could that be protecting me? What do you feel the need to protect me from, exactly? " I ask, feeling betrayed. I don't even know these men.

Lance looks at Prince Sam desperately. "You shouldn't have started this, Sam."

Sam steps away from the shadows. "She has a right to know."

I stare at them both. "Well, someone had better tell me something. I've just seen my Guard killed, and now dancing around a question I've asked is not improving my mood." I say angrily.

Sam gives Lance a side long look before answering, pushing away from my bed post and running his hand through his hair.
"Lance was not taken in as a knight. He snuck away from his duty to become a part of my group."

"What? What group?"

Lance looks up at me. "I did it to keep you safe. I heard rumor of an uprising, so I enlisted in the closest battle. Your father didn't send me, I volunteered. I knew I wouldn't be coming back."

It feels like my lugs were just filled with sand.

Lance continues. "The King of Whales has been trying to get to you for years. He asked for your hand when you were twelve, but you father declined, saying you weren't ready for marraige. He never told you that."

"What? Why would he want me?" Is all I manage, continuing to stare in awe as Sam takes a turn speaking.

"The king wants to wed you, then murder you to take your kingdom. When I learned of his plan I refused to be betrothed to you, so he took it upon himself to try and marry you. The group we are part of has been forming in secret since you were young, and I am the head of it. We are going to kill my father."

-

-

A/N

I promise, there will be more of this in the next chapter to better explain what is going on.

I'm kind of pleased with myself, this is the first time I've written a strong plot twist! I saw this coming about as much as you guys did, I just started to write it.

Hope you guys are left in suspense!

-A.