More than two months after arriving in Theronsia, Ophelia had still not made head or tail of the situation. William Lucas, Jack's father, had had no trouble recognizing her. He hadn't even asked for rings and royal seals. One look at Ophelia, and he had shook his head, "I wouldn't have been surer. You are the Royal Blood, My Lady." he had said. On some other occasion, perhaps that would have thrilled Ophelia. But not that day. She didn't know what to say, what to think - what to make out of all this. For the first month, she had been dumbstruck. And now, she could speak, she could even laugh. She had almost accepted what was happening - that she would go with the flow (although surrounding her was a flood, not any flow).

Layla Lucas, meanwhile, was something else entirely. A tall, handsome woman of more than fifty with an extraordinarily sharp mind. As soon as Jack had introduced Ophelia to his mother, Layla Lucas had thrown her brown curls behind and strode up to her.

'You are a Princess?' She had questioned, calmly. Perhaps William Lucas had taught her the Vedessan tongue, but it would have been better if that hadn't been the case. What she had asked had been the most ordinary thing to enquire of. But something about Layla Lucas - her unaffected superiority, had irked Ophelia.

'I am.' She had replied, shortly. They were of the same height, perhaps Ophelia was taller. But the Lucas seemed higher - in confidence.

'And why would we keep you?'

The question, all the more ordinary, had seemed to settle a blanket of dread upon everything. Jack had crossed his arms uncomfortably, nor approving of his mother's straightforward impoliteness, neither in the position to confront it.

'Well-' Ophelia had begun, in a constricted, politely furious tone. A part of her had begun sub-consciously trying to imitate her father. Such that whenever faced with a situation, the first thing she wondered was what would have Liam done in the scene. Sadly, she had known then that she couldn't imitate the way her father would have smiled and answered with something unobjectionable - not the least perturbed. Struggling to find words, she had been saved by the timely arrival of William Lucas - who was rather prudent, better behaved than his wife, and had a thorough remembrance of Liam.

Layla Lucas had smirked, swayed her hips as though spiting Ophelia, and gracefully walked back inside. Then not ever bringing up any controversial topics.

The biggest thing everybody had wondered, was "what to do, now?" And Aria Lucas, Jack's elder sister - who had taken after her mother, both in appearance and sensibility - had come up with the perfect solution.

'Princess Ophelia, is Royal.' she had said, which was the most evident thing. 'Which is why she should have an audience with at least our Queen, before moving on.' And then she had added something in Theronise which Ophelia hadn't quite understood. But the language wasn't as difficult. Quite a few words were shared between the dictionaries, and Ophelia had found herself vaguely understanding that Aria Lucas had said something like "royal lives are bad, we do not want trouble, do we?" or along those lines.

'How can she have an audience with Her Majesty, without knowing the language, Aria?' Layla Lucas had demanded. The bilingual family seemed to be rather argumentative among themselves.

'She cannot completely not understand what we are speaking.' William Lucas had said, 'When I came around, I could understand broken sentences. Surely, Princess Ophelia, you can do the same?'

'I can.' she had replied, 'I know you wouldn't want trouble, I do not intend to give you any.' she had added, making Aria Lucas go pink and turn away.

'That was not bad!' Jack Lucas had exclaimed, glinting with evident pleasure from Aria's embarrassment. 'I can make you fluent within sixty days.' He had added, his father had laid a hand to his shoulder, perhaps asking him to be a bit politer. But Ophelia hadn't minded.

'You can?'

'You mean to not do any other work for the next sixty days, and only sit and teach the Princess?' Layla Lucas had interrupted, eyebrows raised.

Uncomfortable silence had followed, a silence that hadn't been broken the entire evening. But it was set - Ophelia was learning the mysterious Theronsian language. All with its tongue rolls and sweet expressions and gravelly enunciation.

Today, was a fine April morning. It had been tortuous to sit and learn a language, without any field practice. Ophelia was scared her sword would be catching rust. She was scared her skills would be catching rust.

But since today was the meeting with Her Majesty, she hoped for some respite.

And recognition - because Ophelia did not own up to it - but deep down, she knew that in one way she was a lot different from her entire family. Even Nicholas wouldn't have minded being treated commonly, given the current situation. But for all the "royalty" she had inherited and practiced, without any training institutes or exiles to put a break to her Princess Life, Ophelia was turning steadily bitter. She wanted bows and respect - the quality treatment - the "good life". And here, with a rich but miserly trader and his vehement wife, she was as much far from the "good life" as it was possible to be.

* * *

'So you are the Princess of Vedessa, then?' The Queen of Theronsia, Her Majesty, demanded. A thin line of disbelief flickered with her eyelashes. She looked exceptionally like Olivia, but had a dusky complexion. Her shimmering blue robes complimented it, but Queen Alyssa looked like one who preferred excess.

'I certainly am not disposed to making false claims, Your Highness.' Ophelia replied tartly. She sat about two meters away from the Queen, in a much lower chair - that could barely pass for a throne. It was past lunch time, the Queen's hours of relaxation. And in this time, in her private chamber, the Theronsian Queen had received Ophelia. The gesture had seemed welcoming, but after that, nothing had seemed welcoming anymore. She spoke disbelievingly, and almost as if she was mocking Ophelia.

But upon that crisp denial, Queen Alyssa smiled approvingly.

'I recognize Royal Blood.' She mused, in a singsong voice, jingling her anklets as if to attract Ophelia's attention to them. 'I do not recognize it in you.'

A bitter taste filled Ophelia's mouth. As much as she would have liked to say that she didn't recognize royalty in Queen Alyssa either, she tilted her head wordlessly.

'That might be your failing, Respected Queen.' she replied. 'And we speak as equals, because a plot from my own kinsmen might have pushed me in disfavour, but it does not rob me of my birthrights.'

'What are these birthrights, then, Princess Ophelia?' The Queen asked, bending forward, as though provoking her. Fortunately, Ophelia had endured enough of her provoking father to make this challenging gesture seem like a compliment.

'One of those rights,' she replied calmly, 'is to be seated on level with the presiding monarchs of friendly nations.'

For a minute, a whole minute, Queen Alyssa was stunned. But she regained her wits soon enough, and with a sour flavor to it.

'Vedessa,' she began, standing up and walking over to Ophelia, 'has never truly been what can be called "friendly".' she informed. It was not difficult to know that the Queen had had no doubt whatsoever upon Ophelia's identity. She had just found a valuable pawn in her clutches and was trying her best to make as much of the opportunity as possible. 'Oh but surely, with your Royal ring, and the word of Jack Lucas, I cannot completely glaze over the fact that you are ... indeed ... Princess Ophelia.'

Ophelia felt her heart thumping lightly.

"You trust me?" she asked, slowly.

"Yes,"

That it would be so easy to convince Queen Alyssa, shocked Ophelia so much that all words of gratitude, or of disbelief, died down in her throat. She stared at the shimmering blue robes of the Foreign Queen.

There had to be a catch.

And there was.

"But," Queen Alyssa continued, "what do you want, in the first place?"

"I want to go back!" Ophelia exclaimed, standing up instantly. "And have the head of my brother," she added under her breath, because in the empty months she had spent in Theronsia, Ophelia had come to the conclusion that she was here because of only one person.

"Go back..." Queen Alyssa nodded, "That is difficult."

"But it is possible. I know it is possible."

"Most certainly it is possible. Costly, yes... A secret we do not wish to disclose to Vedessa, yes... And there is a price to it. Can you pay the price, Princess?"

Ophelia's grip on the arms of her seat tightened. A price was not her favourite thing. A price was nobody's favourite thing.

"If you promise," she began, finally, "to help me get back... I can..." Ophelia exhaled, "I - I'm ready to pay any price for it."

Even as the words left her mouth, she regretted it. She realized she had tied herself to the messy royal lives of the Theronsian monarchy with that line. Queen Alyssa had got what she wanted.

"Then, Princess, you need to be my daughter's protector. Be her bodyguard."

"What?" Ophelia gaped at the Queen, who had a half smile on her face, as if thinking of a weight being lifted off her. "What did you say?"

"You might not be familiar with Princess Natalia. My eldest daughter, has a terrible fate tied to her. I want you to help her, dear."

Dear?

"You want me to... to... carry a sword and not let anybody touch her, and you want me to just be with her?"

"Yes, Princess."

"That's all?"

Queen Alyssa looked on for a second, "No, she has a destiny I wish you protected her from..."

"By taking that fate on myself?"

"...yes," it was almost inaudible.

"And if I survive it, I can be back in Vedessa?"

"I promise..."

"That's enough." Ophelia showed a palm to the Queen before she lost her calm. "I knew you would be upto to something like this. I knew no Royal could be genuinely nice. I just knew it."

"You too, are a Royal, Child."

"You made my brother had me sent here, so you could use me as a shield to your daughter." Ophelia ranted, not exactly listening to anything, "I get that."

"I do not know what you are speaking of," Queen Alyssa was back to her cold self, "to me, it is a happy coincidence that you are here. Besides," she turned her back to Ophelia, "now we shall only speak of business. No need to go back to the Lucas' house. Introduce yourself to Princess Natalia. Say you will be helping her achieve her destiny."

"What is her destiny!?" Ophelia demanded.

"To make a sworn ascetic fall in love with her."

The heartless way in which the queen said it, almost as if she did not care, made Ophelia stagger backwards. "Is this your idea of a joke!?"

"Not at all. And Princess Ophelia, you will soon realize that just about nothing is a joke in Theronsia."

* * *

Now that she was doing the job, she just as well did it well.

So Ophelia was going to be a bodygaurd alright. No work was beneath her. No work was humiliating if it got her back to Vedessa.

"You are a Princess, but." Princess Natalia protested feebly - she was much nicer than her mother, though she resembled her quite a lot with the same dusky complexion and doe-eyes. "How can you be my..."

"I have a gain in it." Ophelia told her, "And I am only a bodyguard in name. My actual job is to help you make that ascetic fall in love with you."

Colour drained from Natalia's face, her hands trembled slightly, but no change of expression overcame her. "So you know?"

"Just that one line. The rest... you will tell me."

"It is a long story, Ophelia..."

"But I need to know, of course."

Natalia exhaled. She pulled her robes straight and sat up, "Fine... the truth is, we are in a lot of trouble. Theronsia is in a lot of trouble."

That they were, most certainly.

"How?" Ophelia asked, nevertheless.

"There is a tribe... Or a culture... Of Veneminare. They are all women, fed poison from the time they are eight, such that their bodies become poisonous. It... might seem impossible to you, but I've seen them consume it with my own eyes. Almost every Theronsian has seen it, they are slightly assimilated into the population now... and they have an entire Kingdom of theirs, they are venomous... And they have a Queen..."

"Venom- what?" this princess was not making much sense, if any at all.

"Veneminare." Natalia exhaled, collecting herself. "Even a kiss from them will kill you. An angry touch from them will be a hundred times worse than a snakebite. You understand, they are dangerous. And their Queen is... Mega-dangerous. Still, at one point, she was friendly with Theronsia. Their Queens are chosen - a woman - who is not a Veniminare - below the age of twenty one must wear the poisonous Veneminare heirloom, and survive, to become Veneminare queen. That heirloom... was stolen when she was in Theronsia. The last time. Twenty three years ago."

"She blames you, for it?"

"The entire Kingdom. She gave us twenty three years to retrieve it. Because one queen can only reign for twenty seven years. Time is running out. We have only forty one days left now. Ascetic Edgar is supposed to know everything. Our priest, who has never been wrong, says so. But he will only part with his knowledge to somebody he loves - and somebody has to do it. Somebody-"

"-has to make Edgar fall in love with them? So that he will tell her where the heirloom is?"

Natalia nodded.

And Ophelia could not help laughing. But with herculean effort she controlled herself, "Nonsense! I've never heard a more superstitious story before!"

Natalia appeared outraged, "But-!" she began, and was cut short.

"A foreign princess can laugh, for she has yet not met the Priest, Natalia." A man's voice interrupted. Ophelia turned to see who it was - but she was unable to catch his face well, the sunlight from behind made it near impossible.

"Foreign princess I may be, but I am also the Princess' bodyguard. So I might have to prevent you from taking her name in that light tone, sir."

"Ophelia! What are you doing!?" Natalia demanded. She seemed to have recognised the man, and stood up. 

Ophelia unsheathed her sword, standing up herself - it was quite long since she had had a duel, and the guards outside had express orders not to allow anyone - let alone a man - inside. 

"Whoever this man is, I'm preventing him from talking another step inside when the orders were extremely clear against men." he hadn't even done anything worth a duel, or a scuffle, or even a warning. It was just the fact that Ophelia was tired of the strange Theronsians and their unbelievable tales, and her elbows felt rusty, asking for a duel.

"But-" Natalia began, then stopped abruptly.

It was too late anyway.