Ovelia spent the rest of that day alone in her room, trying to make sense of all that had happened. After the battle High Priest Funeral had intervened, offering the church as a means of negotiating between the two sides and bringing the war to an end. But both sides refused. Dycedarg Beoulve took command of Gallione and Delita of Zeltennia, and the war would continue. She was beginning to understand. First Delita had rescued her and become a hero, then progressed his way up through the Nanten, and now was leading their province. It was as if he had planned it all from the start.

It was late in the evening that the commotion arose. She was at her window, and the sound of sword fighting reached her ears. The guards outside were yelling orders; someone had escaped. The sounds of battle progressed closer and closer to her door, and the princess held her breath, her mind whirling with questions. At last a dark-haired man burst into her room and slammed the door behind him, locking it. He stumbled a few steps and then collapsed onto his knees. "Princess...."

"Olan?" Ovelia rushed over to Count Orlandu's son and covered her mouth once she saw the blood that spilled from a wound in his side. "My god, what happened? Hold on." She quickly began to wrap her shawl around the injury.

Olan protested, as she was staining her garments crimson. "Don't worry about me," he said in a harsh voice, strained through pain. "I just came here to tell you..."

"Don't speak," she instructed gently.

"Please...listen to me," he insisted. "My step-father Orlandu didn't murder Lord Goltana." Ovelia caught her breath at his words. "Suspected of conspiracy my stepfather escaped Bethla with Ramza Beoulve. Now he's fighting to stop the High Priest's evil plot."

Someone knocked heavily on the door. "Princess, are you in there?" came the voice of the palace knights. "Are you all right?"

"Please, open this door!"

"I know he went in there...."

Ovelia ignored them all, turning instead to Olan. "Then who?" she asked, keeping her voice low even as the guards would not be able to hear her through the thick oak doors. "Who killed Lord Goltana?"

Olan lifted his head to her. "It was--"

The door burst open and a pair of knights ran inside. "Princess are you all right?" the first asked while his comrade signaled outside. "Please, step away from him."

"I won't," she said firmly, wrapping her arms around Olan's shoulders. She could hear him murmuring something in protest but she ignored it. "This man is injured, and he is my friend. What has he done?"

"Sir, he's in here!"

Ovelia looked up as a new figure entered, and a thrill of fear ran up her spine. It was Delita. He was dressed in his full gold armor, and the red and white cape which bore Zeltennia's crest. The sight of him was impressive. He surveyed the scene quickly with sharp eyes, and then said, "You guards, leave this room."

The knights exchanged glances and then looked to their leader. "But, sir--"

"I won't say it again," he snapped, and they hastily retreated. Just as they were leaving a woman entered: Belmafula, one of Delita's comrades. Ovelia didn't know much about the mysterious, scantly-clad woman; only that she rarely spoke and was often in Delita's company. Belmafula observed the scene from a distance with a blank look.

Delita watched the knights go to make sure they closed the door behind them, and during his distraction the Princess leaned close to Olan and whispered. "Tell me what happened. Quickly."

"They were going to question me about the assassination," he hissed back, his eyes wild with hatred. She knew unwillingly what that look meant. "I escaped, but they wounded me."

Delita came forward then, and Olan eased her away from him. "That was such a foolish thing you did, Olan," the new lord said, crouching down beside the wounded man.

"Don't patronize me," Olan snapped, venom in his eyes. "You're the traitor, not my father."

"Oh, please." Whatever light of compassion or sensitivity Ovelia thought she'd brought to life in her lover's eyes was gone now. "You know you wanted this, too. Look around. See anyone who's really saddened?"

Ovelia caught her breath, her heart nearly stopping in her chest even as she'd suspected the truth moments before. It had been Delita to--

"You should thank me," he went on, "for 'killing' your father. Now nobody will be after him."

"Stop it!" The outburst cost Olan, and he gripped his wounded side in pain. "You damn coward. Stop talking nonsense!"

The Princess gathered her courage. "Why?" she asked, climbing to her feet. She did her best to hide the fact that she was shaking by looking her lover straight in the eye. She had nothing to fear from him, after all. He would never hurt her. "Why did you do such a thing?"

Delita stared right back at her, no sign of reservation or fear in his face. He stood, and the height advantage he had over her was unnerving. She held her ground. "I told you I'd make you a real monarch," he answered, though she could not discern the strange look on his face. "That can only happen with Goltana out of the way."

"You're lying," she spat without thinking. "You don't want to help me--you want to use me." The moment she heard the words from her mouth she regretted them, but it was too late.

His eyes almost seemed to grow darker with her words. His voice dropped several pitches. "You don't trust me?"

Ovelia swallowed a sudden lump in her throat. Even loving him, trust was the one thing she could not claim to have. "I..."

"Well?"

Olan was watching her now as well. They both were, waiting to see her answer. She didn't know what to say; all she could do was answer with the truth. "I'd like to trust you," she said quietly. "I would, Delita, but..."

If he had been satisfied or upset with her answer, Ovelia would never know. "Go to my room and wait," was all he said. "You can sleep there. I don't want you to sleep in a bloodied room."

She saw then that Olan's wounds were worse than she thought; much blood had seeped out onto the floor and was staining the rugs. Out of options she had no choice but to obey. "All right. But please, be easy on Olan."

"Alright," he answered. "I promise."

Ovelia wondered briefly if that meant anything, her heart shattering. How could he do this, after everything she'd done to draw him closer? She strode quickly to the door and left, closing it behind her. But instead of leaving she stood beside the oak and pressed her ear to it. She could just barely hear their voices through the wood.

"I don't care at all," Olan was saying. "I just wanted to clear my step-father's name. Go ahead and kill me in one deathblow."

Ovelia held her breath, but Delita's words doused her fear before it had a chance to grow. "What are you talking about? I can't have you dead."

"What am I worth to you alive?"

"You'll work under me, of course."

Olan laughed harshly. "Ha. Don't be a fool. I refuse--even if it means death!"

A moment passed before the voices came again. "You can't refuse. I'll bring down the Hokuten and build Ovelia's kingdom. Of course I'll kill the High Priest; I'm not his dog."

"Are you serious?" Olan demanded, mirroring the Princess's own startled and whirling thoughts. "What the hell..."

"I'm sure you know I'm right," Delita went on calmly. "What I'm planning to do is perfect: a former squire, now in control of knights, is restoring order to the world. It's easy to understand. This is the 'hero' the people have been demanding."

"And for that you're going to take advantage of everything--and everyone?"

"Is that wrong?"

Ovelia clamped her hand over her mouth, finally realizing the depth of Delita's plan--a plan which had included her from the beginning. If the Hokuten were destroyed, and she became Queen...

...and if he married her...

No! No, it can't be... Ovelia stumbled away from the door as if it had struck her, already her hands beginning to shake. She couldn't hear the words anymore, but even if she'd been able to they most likely would have made no sense to her in her present condition. She'd trusted Delita completely--she'd loved him--so how could he do this? Did he have no compassion, no affection at all?

She needed to escape. With unsteady steps she began slowly down the hall, not trusting her feet completely to guide her. And then she heard it: a scream. It was the scream of a woman, and then silence. She couldn't help but release her own shriek that was almost a sob, realizing her mistake a moment later. She covered her mouth once more just as the door opened behind her. In sudden panic she ran without looking back.

Ovelia waited in Delita's room for what seemed like hours, though in truth it was only until after the sun had set. She didn't want to be there--she was afraid and confused, and her heart would not slow in its desperate pulse for even a moment. Finally Delita entered, his face livid with a dozen twisting emotions. At first he didn't seem to notice that she was there, but when he did a layer of ice solidified quickly over his face. "You were listening to us," he stated simply, eyeing her carefully.

Ovelia gathered herself to her full height. She'd formed a plan in her mind: she would stand up to him, no matter how distraught she felt. "And if I was? If you want me to trust you, Delita, you have to at least trust me."

"What's there to trust?" He began to shed his gold armor. "I already told you what I'm doing. You know I'm trying to make this a kingdom for you. What more do you want from me?"

"Like I said: trust." She tried to move closer to him but he quickly stepped away. His heavy metal gloves and chest plate clanged loudly on the floor. She waited patiently for him to finish before continuing. "I heard what you said to Olan. I want you to explain it to me clearly."

"You wouldn't understand." Delita stared at her, as if waiting for something. "Now, you can have the bed to yourself if you like. I'll sleep elsewhere until your room has been cleaned." He started to move away again.

"Delita wait." The Princess snatched his arm, an action that she could tell surprised him. "Don't. Just talk to me, please. Why are you doing this? You've been planning this for a long time, haven't you? Since before you rescued me."

She refused to shrink back no matter how cold his eyes became. "You really want to know? Fine." His gaze locked on hers with a kind of intensity she was unaccustomed to. "I killed Goltana, and I helped bring about Larg's assassination as well. I'm going to kill Funeral, too. With everyone gone there will be only you left."

"And you'll marry me," she filled in, the understanding making her dizzy. "You'll be king."

"That's right." The gentle moonlight reflected strangely off his obsidian orbs. "A common boy grows up to become a knight, saves the Princess, marries her and becomes king, bringing order to a torn country. Charming story, isn't it?"

Ovelia finally took several backward steps. Her gut was twisting, and she felt almost faint. "Then it wasn't for me. You're just trying to further yourself--"

"I told you you wouldn't understand," he snarled. "A commoner as a king--don't you see? There doesn't have to be the separated classes anymore." His voice took on a new tone, one that almost sounded like a deeply routed passion. "Commoners have suffered under nobles for centuries--what makes us different? I'm not going to be used, not now and not ever again. Do you hear me?" He took her by her shoulders, gripping them so tightly that it hurt. "Nobody uses me! There will be no more Tetas!"

Ovelia stared back at him, stunned and confused. "Teta," she repeated quietly. "Who's Teta?"

Delita's face went pale, and he immediately released her. He turned away to hide his face. "She was...my sister," he answered after a lengthy pause. "She was killed by a noble acting under orders from the Beoulves. That was over two years ago."

"So that's why you're doing this." She swallowed hard. All her answers, revealed to her in a simple moment of clarity. "You've been manipulating everyone all for the sake of some girl?"

He whirled upon her so swiftly that she nearly shrieked in surprise. "She wasn't just some girl!" he shouted, causing her ears to throb with the volume. "She was my sister--my only sister, and they murdered her! She had nothing to do with them at all!"

Ovelia dropped to her knees, so startled was she from the ferocity in his accusations. She leaned her back against the wall for stability. He was still towering over her, though, wild with anger and something that looked like fear. She was too frightened by his vehemence to notice so small a detail. "I won't let that happen again, ever," he hissed, each word burning with fury. "I don't care how many people I use, how many people I kill. I'll be the one in charge--I'll be the one who's using!"

The Princess stared up at him, too shocked to move and shaking from head to foot. "So you have been using me," she whispered hoarsely. "All along."

His eyes left hers, and slowly he turned away. His silence was enough to assure her, and she struggled to keep her tears from leaking through. She still had questions, but they rested heavily in her mind and heart like fallen snow, and she could not bring herself to voice them. She was too afraid to know the answers. Eternity passed and then she realized that he was heading for the door. "Delita--"

He stopped, but he didn't turn back. "Yes."

She wiped her eyes, staring at his turned back as if it held the answers she wanted but was afraid to see. "You are either the greatest man alive or the most terrible," she said quietly. "I can't tell which anymore."

Delita's response was long in coming. At long last he glanced at her over his shoulder. His eyes were cold stone. "Terrible. Great men don't survive in this world anymore." Then he left, closing the door softly behind him.

Ovelia buried her face in her hands and wept. Oh god, she prayed, why is there nothing but pain for me?

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