Chapter Eight - Seen and Heard

            Aly threw herself facedown onto her bed.  "Kyprioth!" she shouted into the mattress, knowing he would still hear her and, hopefully, answer her summons.

            "I was wondering when I'd hear from you, dearest," the god said suddenly.  She looked up to see him perched on the end of the bed, looking criminally self-satisfied.

            She rolled her eyes.  "Your little joke isn't funny anymore.  You, er, do whatever it is to make the king start behaving like himself again and not a lovesick teenager, and I'll find a way to be useful again.  Are we square?"

            He pretened to consider it for a moment, then smiled and snapped his fingers.  "Done.  And I'd prefer to be triangular, thanks."

            She pushed herself up to a sitting position and raised her eyebrows at him.  "That simple?  Ah, yes," she said when she saw his expression, "you're a god, that's right.  Everything's that simple."  She clambored to her feet and stretched her arms above her head.  "All right, dazzle me with your brilliant scheme."

            Kyprioth shrugged his narrow shoulders.  Although he still his preferred appearance of the gray hair and body of an older man, he was dressed in Eastern-style clothes that could have belonged to a moderately successful artisan or a down-at-the-heels nobleman.  He was completely nondescript.  "The Jimajen boy will prove useful to us, but first we have to draw him to our side."

            Aly crossed her arms and glared at the trickster.  "Explain the collective 'we.'  I'm still not completely convinced that taking part in this will be of any benefit to me."

            "Really?  Because I could make it so that the king regains his interest in you, if that's what you'd like..."

            "No!" she snapped.  "Fine, fine, I'm in, since I have no choice, but I'll remember that you blackmailed me."

            "Extortion, darling."

            "Whatever."  She went into the room that served as her wardrobe and peered around, looking for a suitable gown.  "So when you magically fixed my little problem, did you make sure that everyone else forgot as well?"  She stuck her head around the door and looked at him.  "Well, did you?"

            He looked up, as if startled.  "But of course, dear one."

            "Fine."  She pulled herself back in and grabbed a dark red dress.  "Cut to the chase, Kyprioth, what's the deal?"

            When she came back into her bedroom, he was lounging on her bed, apparently dozing.  He opened one eye.  "That's a nice gown.  Do you have a ball tonight?"

            "A party being given by my future aunt- and uncle-in-law, for, er, well, I'm not exactly sure as to the occasion, but it's going to be very big and important."

            "Hmm, sounds lovely."  He propped himself up on one elbow.  "Your little fiancé..."

            "Kentar," she supplied.

            "Yes, yes, him.  He's going to prove crucial to our plans, because he's our inside link.  Rubinyan and Imajane trust him, but they don't trust you.  Yet.  You must make them trust you."

            "How do I do that?"

            Kyprioth shot her a cryptic smile.  "That, my lady, is completely up to you."  He disappeared into thin air without so much as a noise.

            "Easy enough for you to say," Aly grumbled.  "Gods.  Make a mental note never to get mixed up with them again.  Ever."

            The party was lovely, if a little boring, and Aly returned to her bedroom shortly after midnight.  She flopped down onto her bed and stared up at the ceiling.  It appeared that Kyprioth had managed to tangle himself in her affairs once more.  She picked subconsciously at her gown and began to think.

            She sat up, leaning back on her elbows, as there was a light knock on the door.  "Come in," she called, assuming it was Mora or one of her parents.

            A cloaked figure entered the room and shut the door silently.  It pulled down its hood to reveal Kentar, with an unpleasant scowl on his face.  "What is going on?  Yesterday the king was chasing after you while the entire country looked on, and today he doesn't look twice at you and people seem to have completely forgotten?  I might have been born at night, Alianne, but not last night.  What's going on?"

            She sighed heavily and rolled over.  "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

            "Try me."

            Aly raised an eyebrow.  "I can't, not right now.  You wouldn't understand."

            He gave a snort of disbelief at that, but didn't snap back as she had expected he would do.  He crossed the room and sat down at the foot of her bed, staring at her expectantly.  Her eyes narrowed, but he stayed put.  "You shouldn't be here," she hissed finally.  "I could be ruined."

            "Not that you'd really give a damn," Kentar retorted.  "Anyway, we're engaged, so it would be oh-so-nicely overlooked by most."

            She inched herself slightly over and kicked him with her right leg.  It was hard enough that he went tumbling to the ground, landing with a loud thump.  Mora came rushing through the door.  "My lady?" she asked, and stopped when she saw Kentar pulling himself up off the ground.  She immediately looked accusingly at Aly and offered him a hand up.  "My lord, a pleasant surprise."

            Kentar brushed off his clothes and bowed.  "I was just leaving.  Goodnight to you, mistress, and to you, Lady Alianne."

            "Goodnight, my lord Kentar," Aly replied frostily, glaring at his back as he shut the door behind him.  "It wasn't what you think," she said to Mora, who was staring at the door with a look of utter disbelief.  The maidservant turned back and looked at her with skepticism.

            "Well, it's not," Aly said again.

            "That's what they all say, m'lady," Mora muttered as she swept a curtsy.  "Goodnight."

            In her dreams, Aly ran through a forest as if being chased by someone.  Her breath grew shorter and her muscles strained, but she felt as if she couldn't stop running.  Around her, the trees began to thin, and the area around her grew brighter.  She came skidding to a halt at the edge of a cliff, trying to catch her breath as she watched clods of dirt disappear into the mists below.  She turned around to face her persuer and...

            "Aly!  Aly!" a familiar voice hissed into her ear.  "Aly, wake up!"

            She opened her eyes slowly, blinking, and glared at Sarai.  "It isn't even dawn.  What in the name of Mithros are you doing?"

            Sarai looked at her with a somewhat frightened expression.  "It's the earl of Ormane," she said finally.  "He's gone stark-raving mad!"

            Aly sat up and swung her legs around so she could stand up.  She pulled a dark blue dressing gown over her nightgown and fastened it securely.  She grabbed a brush and tugged it through her hair quickly.  "Where is he?"

            "Near the hall of crowns."

            She frowned at that.  "What in the world is he doing there?"  They began to walk swiftly but silently.  They snuck out into the hallway and took off at an even faster pace, though Sarai struggled slightly to keep up.  They rushed down a flight of stairs, Aly almost losing her balance on the landing.  Sarai grabbed her elbow to steady her, and they exchanged a grin.

            The pair practically ran down a corridor containing the portraits of the current monarchs and heads of state in the other realms of the Eastern and Southern Lands.  Even little Dunevon's likeness was there, although he was not alone in the picture: co-regents Rubinyan and Imajane stood imposingly behind the young boy.  Aly and Sarai barely gave the painting a glance as they neared the hall of crowns.  Snippets of what sounded like a shouting match could be heard, becoming clearer and clearer as they approached.

            The scene was an unnerving one; Kentar, still in clothes from earlier, stood at a distance with Imajane, while Rubinyan tried to calm his brother-in-law.  The earl hurled a priceless Carthaki vase at the wall and looked for another potential missile.  Aly's eyes widened when she saw the foaming at his mouth and the almost rabid look to his eyes.  She exchanged a quick glance with Rubinyan, which told her everything.

            Duke Baird of Queenscove rushed in, looking as if he had just thrown on the clothes he'd grabbed first.  Behind him trailed several other healers and a rumpled-looking Jonathan.

            "You'll never take me alive!" the earl bellowed at the top of his lungs when two of the apprentice healers tried to approach him, speaking in low, soothing voices.  At this, they stopped and looked at Duke Baird for direction; none of them had ever dealt with a completely mad patient before.  Kentar started to move in his father's direction, but stopped at a look from the king.  Jonathan shook his head slightly from side-to-side, though his expression dared Kentar to defy him.

            Kentar refused to take the bait, and with a resigned sigh, he moved back to his aunt, though not before acknowledging Aly and Sarai with a little nod.

            Sarai leaned over and hissed into Aly's ear, "Is he possessed?"

            Aly shrugged, her eyes not leaving the earl, who was now brandishing his sword at the healers.  "Get away from me, rabid curs!" he shouted at the top of his lungs.  "Begone!"  His eyes flashed, and he turned the sword around.  He looked directly at Kentar and said quite clearly and calmly, "I would rather spill my own blood than admit defeat."  He plunged the blade into his abdomen and doubled over, sinking to his knees.  Imajane shrieked and her husband rushed to his brother-in-law's side.  Rubinyan pushed the healers aside and knelt down next to the earl.

            "H-he's dead," he said shakily.  One of the healers bent over to get a closer look and stood up, nodding.

            Jonathan shut his eyes and made the Sign on his chest.  He opened his eyes and saw Aly and Sarai in the corner, clutching their robes, with pale faces and wide eyes.  "Gods, this was no sight for ladies.  Princess..."

            "Of course, Jonathan," Imajane replied.  She swept across the hall towards Aly and Sarai, motioning for the two girls to follow her.  "Oh, but you must be traumatized to see such an awful thing at such a delicate age."

            I've seen worse, Aly thought but did not say out loud.  She left Imajane and Sarai at the entrance to the royal guest wing, exchanging the proper expressions of empathy and sadness, and continued through the dark halls to her own bed.  She yawned widely as she snuck back in, and to her great luck, no one was awake in the household.

            She climbed under the covers and lay for a few moments, contemplating what she had just seen.  Lord Ormane's suicide had been completely bizarre, as he had seemed perfectly fine at the party earlier.  Surely Kentar would have mentioned his father's odd behavior, or it would have been remarked upon by the gossips.  Perhaps Sarai's guess had been correct, and the earl was possessed by some sort of demon or vengeful god.

            Aly sighed deeply and rolled over onto her side.  I'll think about it in the morning, she promised herself, and went to sleep.

            In her dreams, she found herself standing in a large, cavernous room.  Its high ceiling was supported by ornately-carved columns arranged in two rows down either side.  The floor was cool marble, the perfect temperature for her bare feet.  Sunlight streamed in from somewhere, and a warm breeze carried the scent of roses and the sea.  Aly inhaled several times, never tiring of the smell.  At the other end of the room, two people were engaged in what looked like a heated discussion.  She approached cautiously, staying behind columns as to remain unseen.

            "...not supposed to interfere," Kyprioth was saying, his voice raised in anger.  "This is my affair!"

            A stooped old woman wearing a ragged black cloak smiled up at him with the ugliest, yet strangely arresting, face Aly had ever seen.  "Oh, but my dear, it's ever so fun to meddle in the affairs of my brothers and sisters.  Your reactions are positively priceless.  Ormane's death means nothing."  Aly's eyes widened as she realized what they were talking about.

            "Oh, his death changes everything and you know it.  His son will be my undoing, I can just tell."

            "Well," the goddess replied, sticking out her chin stubbornly, "that's your problem.  Besides, you deserve to have a few obstacles thrown your way.  It's good for the complexion."

            Aly opened her mouth to speak and found herself sitting up in bed, sweating.  So the stakes were rising; Kyprioth's attempts at keeping his plans secret had backfired.  She glanced towards her door, adrenaline starting to pump through her veins.

            She loved a challenge.

A/N: I am the lowest of things, I know, and I haven't updated this in forever.  Not to mention this chapter is horrid, I'm sorry.  Now that I'm finished with my junior year and summer is in full swing, I should have a lot more time to write.  Again, my sincerest apologies!