Alena blinked a few times, dumbfounded by Timothy's answer. "What did you say?" she asked, wondering if she had heard right.

"I...I...said I...was hoping...to...win the...Princess of Santeem's... affection," the thief repeated, his eyes now turned away as if his reason was the greatest sin in the world.

"M...my affection...?" she mumbled, her eyes wide with bewilderment. However, Timothy did not hear her, wallowing in his own self-pity and almost ignorant of his surroundings.

A sharp, bony elbow jutted into Alena's ribs and she instinctively flinched, giving a nasty glare in Brey's direction. She was about to demand an explanation but her tutor shook his head, silently informing her to remain quiet. The princess reluctantly nodded twice, mainly out of curiosity as to what Brey had in mind.

Pressing his staff into Timothy's neck a little more, the old tutor ordered him to stop his sulking and stand up. The thief quickly scrambled up but found difficulty in controlling his moping. "Now listen," Brey said with such coldness in his voice that even his companions shivered. "We have little care about your practices or your plans. However, if we are going to be traveling together, we have to know this much; were you planning on robbing us?"

Timothy blinked as though stunned by the question. "No, not once was it my intent," he meekly replied.

Brey nodded, satisfied with the thief's response. "Here's our proposal, then," he continued. "We will continue to travel together. After all, there still may be trogs about. Once we reach Frenor, we will take a third of your treasures as payment for our services. In return, we won't make any mention of your origins to the..."

He paused, finding it somewhat difficult to say the last of his conditions without cracking a smile. "...To the Princess should we see her," he managed to finish.

Timothy's eyes widened and he nodded exuberantly, believing he was getting off easy for the situation he was in. After all, loosing a third of the treasures he had was not really that much of a deal. He still had plenty to spare, more than enough to impress anyone in the hierarchy.

Brey nodded, satisfied with the deal he just made. "If you don't mind, then," he said, "the three of us would like to be alone for a moment." The thief hastily nodded again and quickly darted into his wagon, probably to make sure none of his treasures were missing.

The moment Timothy was out of hearing distance, Alena turned to Brey and asked with wide eyes, "You don't think that he..."

"No," the old tutor replied the unsaid question, shaking his head. "There could be no possible way he knows you're the Princess of this country. If he's truly from this region, he's probably never ventured anywhere near the castle."

"There's one thing that really confuses me, though," Cristo interjected. "Why would he be travelling to Frenor, in the opposite direction from the path he should be taking."

His companions looked at him, somewhat startled by the bodyguard's observation. Sensing their immediate confusion of his statement, Cristo added with a shrug, "Well, he seems fairly well stocked for a lengthy trip. Why would he need to go to this village we're going to?"

"That is strange," Brey muttered, turning his gaze back to the wagon. "There are no shipping lanes from this region of Santeem and, as far as I know, nothing that would even hint of an underground syndicate where those jewels would fetch a large sum of gold."

"You don't suppose Tim lied to us, do you?" Alena asked, looking at the wagon as well.

"I really can't be sure," Brey replied, shrugging. "He seemed sincere enough but then thieves are notorious for weaseling their way out of difficult situations. Still, as long as we're travelling companions, we'll just have to trust him."

* * *

Weser had been sodden with rain and, going through the small village in the night, along with the unpleasant events that occurred there the same night Alena had left the castle, the three travelers could only have dark thoughts of the place. Likewise, Surene could be no comparison, the city's majestic Zenithian Temple and massive architecture outdoing some of mankind's greatest achievements. And poor, pathetic Tempe, rotting and being reclaimed by the surrounding forests, was in no position to be regarded as an ideal village. Even the three travelers' intervention and liberation of the miserable hamlet was no guarantee of its recovery but probably only delaying the inevitable.

With such grand or terrible places to draw a comparison with, Frenor was indeed much better than what the travelers could have expected.

Nestled comfortably in the forested bowl of a broad valley, several trails stretched out from the center like a spider's web; the village was indeed a center of commerce in this remote region of Santeem to have so many roads and trails converging in one place. Yet, from high in the bowl's rim, the actual village of Frenor could not be made out. It seemed to be hidden in the middle of a dense forest, away from the eyes of troglodytes and orcs. Not until they were well into the valley's bowl did the travelers begin to see small houses.

Again, their previous encounters with peasant villages was a deceiving example of peasant architecture, as the dwellings of Frenor were very well kept and, at times, somewhat decorative with ivy growing along the chimneys or fences.

"These peasants must be wealthy to live in such a place," Cristo commented as they walked to the center of Frenor.

"Not really," Timothy, whom had remained relatively quiet throughout the rest of the trip, mentioned. "There are just plenty of resources to work with here in the Wilds. With at least one house to use as an example, the peasants can easily copy others."

He paused for a moment, taking a lengthy look at a two story, brick house with black, wooden frames along the windows and doors. "Of course," he added at length, "most of the people who live here are merchants, usually wealthy to begin with."

Brey, sitting beside the thief on the wagon, turned to him. "Tell me, Tim," he said, "why do people that are wealthy enough to build houses like these remain in the Wild Lands when they could have a better life of luxury in Surene or Endor?"

"Dunno," Timothy replied, shrugging his shoulders. "Many reasons, I guess. Some don't think they have what it takes to make it in the big city. Others had no choice but to come to a remote region because the competition is less harsh here. And then there are those who just prefer open country to bustling cities."

Brey raised a white, bushy eyebrow. "And what of yourself?" he asked with a slight smile. "Surely a thief as successful as you would prefer the larger cities where wealth is far more abundant."

Timothy smiled knowingly at the old tutor. "It's all a matter of what's available in my case. I'm a wanted man in Bonmalmo and Endor because of my career. I couldn't get any ship transportation since my face was posted at every port in those two countries so Santeem was really the only way I could have gone. I would have been in Surene by now, actually, making myself a decent living in the Thieves' Guild there, if that cursed village had not been in my way...what was the name of it? Tempy?"

"Tempe, actually," Brey corrected. "The last syllable is pronounced ‘eh'!"

"Fine," the thief muttered. "Temp-eh-!"

Alena overheard their conversation and sped up her pace, catching up with the two conversing men. "You don't have to worry about the village anymore. The curse has been lifted, so-"

"I don't really care about that route anymore," Timothy interrupted, flinging an arm up in disgust. "Once I grace the Princess with my charms and my fortune, she'll take me with her home and...well...who knows? I may end up becoming the next in line for the Santeem throne!" He finished his sentence with a proud thump on his chest, raising his chin high in the air.

Alena rolled her eyes, mumbling Brey would become a Zenithist before that ever happened. Somehow, the old tutor overheard and let out a soft chuckle in agreement.

As the travelers continued down the road towards the center of the town, the density of houses gradually increased but something seemed amiss. Despite the increase of lodgings, no people were seen about. Apple orchids were being left unattended to, livestock in pastures were moving without owners, and gates were swinging wide open as if begging thieves to rob the houses they protected.

"By the Master, I hope we haven't entered another Tempe," Cristo muttered, looking around worriedly.

"It doesn't seem that way," Brey said, looking about with curiosity. "Tempe was in a state of ruin and decay when we arrived. Everything seems fine here, just there are no people about."

Timothy made a scoffing sound, then said, "Are all of you idiots?" The remark drew an acidic glare from the three travelers and the thief could not help but flinch from their gaze. "Sorry," he quickly apologized, "but I thought I already told you. The Princess of Santeem is visiting here so everybody is probably wherever she is, anxious to get a look at a real monarch!"

Again, Timothy's explanation drew confused stares from his companions.

"This is all too confusing," Cristo said, scratching the back of his head. "How can the Princess already be in the village when we just-"

"What Cristo means," Brey interjected before the bodyguard could give away their secret, "is why she would come here of all places. I mean, I'm sure the Princess of Santeem would much rather be lazily lounging in her regal settings at the castle than staying at some shabby inn at the very most remote part of her country."

Timothy merely shrugged in reply, turning his attention back to the road as one of his brahmirds seemed to be straying a bit.

Brey shook his head and turned his gaze downward to think things through. It was becoming more and more apparent the "Princess of Santeem" was in Frenor. Since no one could know Alena was coming here, that would only leave the conclusion someone was impersonating the princess. However, could someone really be that good of an impersonator or were the villagers just more gullible than the old tutor had already thought.

A few minutes later, the travelers passed a house where a young woman wearing an elegant dress hurried out and ran right in front of the brahmirds. The beasts, too stupid to realize someone was moving in front of them, kept plodding along. Timothy tried to pull on the reigns but the brahmirds had far too much momentum. Alena, fortunately, recognized the danger immediately.

Springing forth like a stalking predator, the princess leapt at the woman and tackled her out of the brahmirds' path. The two of them rolled over each other for a moment, Alena's agility allowing her to halt her momentum within seconds of the impact. The young peasant woman was not so skilled, though, coming to rest in a mud puddle further down the road.

Alena instantly stood up, realizing she hit the peasant harder than intended. "Gee, I'm sorry," the princess apologized, embarrassingly rubbing the back of her head. She walked over and offered a helping hand up. "Are you-?" she started to say but was violently cut off.

"Look at what you've done!" the peasant cried, leaping at Alena with anger. "My dress! It's ruined!" Indeed, several mud stains were smeared across the once elegant dress and small tears lined the hems.

The woman looked like she was about to physically lash out against Alena and the princess held up an arm defensively, hoping she would not have to get into a fist fight with an obviously inferior opponent. However, the young woman burst into tears and huddled herself in the mud as she pitifully wept.

Cristo, first to catch up with the pair, stared bewildered at the weeping woman. He glanced at Alena and asked, "What did you do?"

"I didn't do anything," the princess said, surprised her bodyguard would automatically blame her. "I just saved her and she goes berserk on me."

Brey and Timothy arrived at the tiny gathering and the old tutor gently knelt beside the young woman. "Can it really be that terrible your dress is ruined?" he asked. "I mean, it can easily be washed, can't it?" Alena and Cristo's eyes widened in amazement, not once expecting Brey to show sympathy towards a peasant.

"It...it's just th...that I won't be...be able t...to impress th...the P...Princess l...like this!" the young woman cried between wails. Brey looked up at Alena with a raised eyebrow but the princess could only offer a confused shrug.

"Tim," the old tutor said, "take her home and see what you can do for her. Is there an inn we can meet up?"

"There's only really one worth staying at, near the center of town," the thief replied as he knelt down to help the weeping peasant up.

The old tutor nodded and said, "Fine. We'll book a room there and talk about the final arrangements of our deal later tonight." Timothy nodded and helped the weeping woman into her home.

Once they were gone, Alena said to her tutor, "Are you sure we should leave him alone like this? What if he takes off?"

"I don't think he will," Brey replied thoughtfully. "He said he was coming here to perhaps impress the Princess of Santeem with his wealth and, if what I believe is true, this false Princess is already here in Frenor. He won't leave so long as she is here."

"We can wait for him to come out, then," Cristo said.

Brey shook his head. "I'm more interested in finding out who this impersonator is," he said. He gave a sly grin to Alena, adding, "And I'm sure the real Princess of Santeem is anxious to find out as well."

Alena's eyes widened with shock, wondering just how the old tutor knew the curiosity had been eating at her ever since she first heard someone was impersonating her with so much success.

* * *

As the travelers proceeded deeper into Frenor, they saw a few more people but it was not really a substantial amount; a farmer attending his garden and some children playing in the street. Alena began to wonder had anyone known she was coming to this or any other village, would a similar circumstance occur? Would everyone abandon his or her daily duties just for a glimpse of her? Did she really have that kind power in this country?

Residing in the castle for almost all of her life, Alena had only known the power she carried there, and it pretty much was a servant attending to her every need. Lords, vassals, merchants, and peasants would bow nobly to her in the throne room and people would treat her with respect. It was probably the most perfect setting for anyone to grow up in. As a result, Alena never really thought much of the implications of everyone's actions around her. There seemed to be people out there who would risk their lives just to catch a glimpse of her.

Yet, the thought of having that much power made Alena's stomach churn in the most unsettling of ways. People respected her, which was fine, but for all the wrong reasons. They respected her merely as a figurehead because they were brought up to respect her as the Princess of Santeem, a person who had the highest authority in the country.

However, they did not respect her as an individual. No one knew the person behind the crown. They did not know she was capable of destroying solid, brick walls or that her fighting prowess could be the envy of some of the most hardened warriors. They did not even respect her as a human being, capable of feeling emotions like them; of being able to hate, love, cry, laugh, or even respect them in return.

Was this why she had so desired to go on this journey? To gain the respect she needed from others not only as the Princess of Santeem but also as Alena Santeem?

"I think we've found the place we're looking for," Brey remarked dryly, interrupting Alena's thoughts.

"Which place was that?" the princess asked, following her tutor's gaze. She had been so lost in her own thoughts she had not even realized the three of them had arrived in Frenor's market square. Shop stands lined the town's center of commerce, with two-story buildings nestled behind them but still just beyond the surrounding forest's reach. However, the central market was not bustling with activity, at least not as one would have expected.

The only source of activity was in the southern half of the square. It seemed every villager had converged just beyond a single stand and the mob outside it was immense! The constant whispers and buzzing of "How exciting that a Princess is here" and "Do you think we'll be able to see the Princess" made a roar louder than a swarm of angry hornets. The travelers had not even reached the center of the square before needing to push and shove their way through the crowd. Even though their efforts were valiant, no amount of strength would be able to get them to the scene of everyone's attention.

"Alena!" Brey called out, needing to raise his voice in order to be heard over the crowd's murmuring. "Can you hoist me on your shoulders so I can get a better view?"

"Why not get Cristo to do it?" Alena asked.

"He's probably not strong enough to hold me up," the old tutor replied, drawing a pained glare from the bodyguard.

Sighing, the princess did as she was asked and, within moments, Brey had a better view of the surrounding area. While Alena had shown some amazing feats of strength during their travels, even she could not hold him up for an extended length of time. "Hurry up and tell us what you see, old man," she complained, beginning to feel the strain on her slender shoulders.

"I can't really see anything, this mob is so thick," Brey said, "but it looks as though your impersonator is doing some shopping. I can't make out her face but, seeing how her dress is quite elegant, it can be understood how these peasants are so easily fooled.

"Hold on! There seems to be some sort of movement. Two men have just surrounded her and....oh, oh! Quick! Get me down!"

"Why?" Alena asked, then suddenly found the crowd beginning to move to the right.

Several people mindlessly shoved her aside, causing her to loose her balance. She and Brey came tumbling down, the old tutor receiving the brunt of the impact from being so high. Alena was able to spring into a defensive kneel to stand up against the mob but Brey was not nearly as fast and had to resort to pitifully covering himself to avoid being trampled. Cristo, though, had not even been paying attention to Brey's warning and was instantly swept away by the crowd, calling out Alena's name in the futile hope she might be able to save him before they became separated.

It was over in only a few moments and Alena could not help but cough from the cloud of dust the crowd of peasants had left in their wake. "Brey?" she called out between coughs, trying to find her tutor in the settling dust. His form soon emerged, still huddled in a protective ball. "Are you all right, Brey?" the princess asked, finally finding the strength to stand back up. No answer came from the old tutor, though.

"Brey?" Alena timidly called out but still no answer came forth. Suddenly fearing the worst, the princess rushed forward and knelt down by him, shaking him violently. "Brey! Are you all right? Are you hurt?"

After seconds of shaking, a few muffled coughs escaped the old tutor's body. Alena sighed in relief and helped him sit up. "Only my dignity is," Brey grumbled, rubbing the back of his head to see how large the lump was going to form after hitting his head on the ground.

Satisfied the old tutor was going to be fine, Alena asked, "What happened there? Did everyone suddenly decided to leave?"

"Not quite," Brey replied. "It seemed as though the 'Princess' was finished shopping at that stand and moved on to the next one. See?" The old tutor pointed to the right of them, where the crowd had assembled just outside the largest building they had seen in Frenor.

He looked around for a moment and his bushy eyebrows raised in shock. "Where's Cristo?"

"He was trapped in the crowd, I think," Alena replied, peering into the mob in an attempt to find the bodyguard. "Oh, wait, there he is."

Sure enough, Cristo could be seen shoving his way out of the crowd. He eventually forced his way out of the main perimeter and instantly rushed toward his companions. "Are you all right?" he hastily asked, his question more directed towards Alena than Brey.

"We're fine," the old tutor remarked dryly, "but did you happen to see where the imposter went?"

"Inside that building, I think," he replied, rubbing the back of his neck. "I wasn't really paying attention to where she was going, trying to get out of there and all." The bodyguard knelt down and helped Brey onto his feet.

Once he stood up, the old tutor gave a frantic gaze around the area. "Where's my walking staff?" he asked hastily.

"Over there," Cristo said, pointing to the left.

"No, isn't that it?" Alena suggested, pointing to the right.

Brey hobbled over to inspect both pieces. "No," he muttered grimly, "I think you're both right." He picked on of the broken fragments and threw it at the ground in disgust, cursing violently as he did. "Damn the Master! It was my favorite one, too!" Cristo could not help but flinch at Brey's words but offered to fix it as best as he could.

Still muttering a few choice curses, Brey turned his attention back to the mob and the large building they were assembled outside of. "Any idea as to what building that could be?" he asked, rubbing his white whiskers. His only replies were a pair of helpless shrugs from his companions.

After a few moments of thought, the old tutor turned to Alena and said, "I have a difficult task in mind for you."

Sighing, the princess replied, "What is it?"

"I need you to get to the other side of that mob and get a closer look at the imposter," he explained.

Alena's eyes widened in surprise. "Why do you want me to do it?"

"You're the only one of us who can," Brey calmly replied, patting her slender shoulders with reassurance.

The princess looked at her tutor for a moment, then turned her gaze to the mob, the implications of her daunting task hitting her confidence with the force of one of her berserk induced punches. Still, it was merely another challenge and she had faced seemingly impossible tasks before only to come away the victor. Why should this time be any different? Heaving a heavy sigh, Alena straightened her shoulders and strode forth to make her way through the crowd.

The initial penetration was not difficult as the perimeter was no thicker than before. However, had she thought the streets of Surene and Endor were some of the busiest centers of the world, they could hardly compare to the level of activity within this mob.

Again Alena found trouble moving the deeper she went. Trying to channel the dizzying murmurs and whispers from the crowd away from her senses, the princess formed her arms into a wedge and concentrated on finding any weak spots in the tightly packed mob. Within moments, all she could see around her were bodies, every one of them unrecognizable and forgettable from the rest. It just seemed as though the sea of peasants was never ending.

What had been merely seconds seemed to last for several minutes as her efforts to penetrate further into the mob were rewarded with meager steps at a time. Elbows, feet, shoulders, and waists seemed to find every tender part of her body, giving her some major bruising.

The peasants were a very determined folk, not one of which was willing to give up their space without a good fight. Alena had to work and sweat to gain every inch of space. Whenever she believed she saw the end in sight, an uncountable number of peasants seemed to appear to stop any further advances.

The trend continued for some time before it abruptly ceased. The crowd quite suddenly ended and it caught her by surprise. She stumbled forward headfirst into the tree-trunk-like chest of an oversized man. It was like running into a stone wall and Alena could not help but fall back on her rear, rubbing her painful head.

The clumsy act brought the laughter of every peasant who saw her. Given the extent of the crowd's size, the roar was loud enough to wake even a sleeping brahmird. "Great," Alena mumbled to herself cynically. "Not the best way to present oneself."

Regaining whatever composure she had left, Alena stood up and straightened her shoulders, looking squarely at the large man before her. He was perhaps the largest man she had ever seen, rivaled only by a few of the gladiators she had witnessed in her youth in Endor. He merely wore cloth pants held up by a string belt, displaying his well-defined, tanned chest, shoulders, and arms to everyone present. Hardly any hair lined his shiny scalp and his face was devoid of emotion. With his arms folded across his chest, the large man clearly was an intimidating sight.

In fact, intimidation was probably his only purpose as he appeared to be guarding the door to the building where Cristo had guessed the imposter went into. Above the door was a decorative sign reading Frenor's Finest Inn.

The large man studied the princess for a moment, then said in a deep, rumbling voice, "And just where do you think you're going, young man?"

Unconsciously, Alena moved her hand to her head to see if her leather cap was still on, which it was not. Did she look that much like a boy with her hair cut short or was this monster just blinded by all the muscle in his body? Judging from the surprised whispers that followed from the mob, mainly consisting of ,"Is that really a man?", Alena guessed the latter was more the truth.

"I'm going to get a room for myself and my companions," Alena said defiantly, building some confidence in herself. "We heard this was the finest inn of all Frenor, so if you will excuse me..."

The princess started to move forward but was instantly stopped by a large hand on her breast. Her eyes raised with instinctive shock and she very nearly verbally lashed out at the large man had his next words not unnerved her.

"I'm afraid I cannot let you stay here," he said. "There is already a Princess staying here and she does not need the likes of common trash soiling her space. Now shove off!"

With that he roughly pushed Alena back down, injuring her pride more than her body. More laughter erupted from the crowd and the humility raising within the princess was more than she could bear. She would show this overgrown monstrosity she was not one to be toyed with. Steeling her eyes on her target, Alena sprung forth like a hunting cat in waiting.

The large man, who was laughing with the crowd, had no idea what hit him.

A sharp knee to his groin caused him to double over, his eyes rolling into the back of his head as he instinctively grabbed the wounded area. Taking advantage of her opponent's forward slouch, Alena grabbed him by the head. Every peasant gave a stunned gasp as the small princess managed to pick the large man up and flip him over her shoulders. The grunt of pain that came from the large man's chest as he landed confirmed Alena's quick victory.

However, she was not finished with him yet. She wanted to make him pay for humiliating her like that. Before he knew it, she was on the large man's chest, his arm already in her hands. A simple twist would render it useless for a good month or so, a decent lesson for placing his hand on her breast.

She hesitated upon catching the feared glimpse of a few peasants who would witness her grisly attack. It did not take her long to realize the implications of her actions. This was nearly the same position she was in when she had brutally attacked the innkeeper at Weser! She was reacting on pure instinct, without any consideration for her victim. Had she not grown at all since then? Was she doomed to repeat these berserk rages whenever her pride was injured?

She dropped the arm of the still groaning man and stood up. Forgetting the reason she even came to confront the large man, Alena started to move back to the mob. The peasants gave her a wide, terrified path to move through but the princess did not notice as she was absorbed in her own thoughts.

It was not long before she left the mob and was greeted by an anxious Cristo. He repeatedly asked her what had happened and whether she was hurt but the princess paid him no head.

Instead, she made her way directly to her tutor. Once he was within her reach, she timidly stated, "I did it again."

Brey very nearly asked her what she was referring to but, judging the commotion he had heard on the other side of the mob and the wide girth the peasants had given the princess as she came back, he had a good guess. Besides, he had seen this face on Alena a few times before. "Are you all right?" he asked, raising a bushy eyebrow.

The princess took in a shaky breath, then replied, "I...I think I'll be fine. It just...stunned me for a moment."

"Would you like to tell me what happened?" Brey asked sympathetically.

"No..." Alena mumbled, looking away. She could not constantly keep falling onto her tutor's shoulders whenever her berserk rages injured or even killed someone. After all, it was not his responsibility to deal with the consequences. This was something she was going to have to get over herself.

"No," she said again, this time with more optimism. "I'll be fine. We have other things to worry about right now." Brey seemed satisfied with her answer, and nodded approvingly.

"Well, then," the old tutor said, "were you able to get a good look at your impersonator?"

Alena shook her head and replied, "They wouldn't let me through the front door. The building's an inn and, since they think I'm staying there, they're keeping everyone else out. I guess they think I'd be impressed by kicking all of the peasants out."

"Maybe not you," Brey noted, "but many other members of the social elite would. There is quite a gap between peasants and princesses.

"Anyway, it doesn't solve our problem," he muttered, looking up at the inn.

Cristo, whom had mainly remained out of the conversation, stepped forward. "What problem is that?" he asked but Brey did not reply.

He noticed something about Alena's mannerisms ever since she returned. She periodically was gazing at the building where her imposter was residing. The old tutor had a suspicion regarding her actions but he still did not have enough evidence to confront the princess about it.

Suddenly, a high-pitched shriek interrupted his thoughts. "Oh, no! Am I too late?" The source of this shriek came from a young woman sprinting into the town square, the very same woman whom they had ran into at the edge of Frenor. She was now wearing a very plain orange dress, probably something she had hurriedly put together to still look nice in front of a member of the hierarchy. She bounded to the edge of the mob and started jumping up and down in an attempt to see over the heads of everyone.

Alena could not help but shake her head with disgust. It really was ridiculous how these peasants acted, especially to someone who was not even who they all thought.

Timothy soon could be seen lagging behind as he was gasped for air, his pace a sluggish run. He obviously had a difficult time keeping up with the excited peasant woman. Upon seeing their temporary companion, Alena suddenly had a thought come to her mind and a plan to perhaps get them into the inn.

"Brey," she muttered, leaning over while keeping her eye on Timothy, "I need your help for a moment. Will you follow my lead?"

The old tutor looked up at her for a moment, a confused gaze in his eyes. "Your 'lead'?" he repeated, somewhat stunned by the princess' request. Alena looked at him and smiled knowingly, a strange glimmer in her eyes that Brey had only seen a few other times. It intrigued him and he nodded.

Alena strode forth to intercept Timothy, Brey hobbling behind. Once in hearing distance, the princess called out, "Having a little bit of trouble?"

After a few puffs, Timothy replied, "It's unbelievable how fast these young peasant woman move when they're motivated." He paused to take the opportunity to rest his hands on his knees and take in a few deep breaths.

Alena patiently waited, letting the thief catch his breath. With what she had planned for him, he was going to need it. "I'm afraid you missed the show," the princess said at length.

Still catching his breath, Timothy managed to look up and say, "What?"

"The Princess," Alena explained. "She's gone inside that inn and the innkeeper isn't letting anyone in."

"Probably just wants her all to himself, the old goat," Timothy grumbled, finally standing back up but still breathing heavily.

"Timothy," Alena lightly sang, sweetly smiling as she looked him directly in the eyes, "you are an experienced thief, right?"

"Right..." he replied slowly, nervously looking back. The last time she had smiled at him like that, he had received a severe arm-twisting.

"Then you are adept at breaking into places, am I right?"

"What are you...?" Timothy started to say, then his eyes widened.

"Oh, no!" he said, backing up as he shook his hands. "I am not going to help you break into that inn. The deal was we were going to help each other until we got to Frenor and we've arrived in Frenor. If you want in there, you're going to have to do it yourself! I want no part in it!"

"I see," Alena sighed, shaking her head. "That's too bad." The princess had expected this, even counted on it. She turned to her tutor and said, "Brey, sap him!"

Quickly realizing what the princess had in mind, the old tutor performed the incantation and spoke, "Sap!" Upon uttering the magic word, invisible energy left his outstretched fingertips and sunk into Timothy's skin.

Almost instantly, the thief's skin began to shrivel, clinging to his bones like some sort of undead creature. Once Timothy realized what was happening, he very nearly screamed out in terror. "What's going on?" he cried. "What's happening to me!"

"A curse has been laid upon you," Alena said, trying to remain as serious as possible. The sight of Timothy fumbling about in an attempt to discover the cause of his tightening skin was a funny sight given the fact it would return to normal after a short while.

"A serious curse," Alena continued. "Your skin will shrivel like this until you do as we ask of you. In such a state, you can never hope to attract the Princess like you planned." Indeed, Timothy's appearance was already drawing the apprehensive stares of many peasants. Alena paused, trying to create some dramatic implications if the thief refused her offer. "So, do we have a deal?"

"Yes! Yes!" Timothy cried, shuddering at the feeling of his bones protruding into his skin.

"Very good," Alena smirked. "The curse should wear off in a few minutes so why don't we go start making some plans?" At that, the princess strode off, grabbing the cringing Timothy as they walked.

Brey could not help but lightly cackle at Alena's ingenuity, even if it was a little extreme. "Cristo?" Brey called, still keeping his eye on the pair.

The bodyguard walked up, carrying the old tutor's walking staff. It was hastily patched together with a tightly bound cloth at the broken section. "It isn't quite as strong as before," he remarked, making a final check to ensure the cloth was secure.

"It'll do," Brey said, snatching it from him without even testing the staff's strength.

Before the bodyguard could come up with a remark for Brey's rudeness, the old tutor asked, "Did you happen to catch all of that?"

Cristo looked up, watching Alena talk to Timothy about something he could not hear. "Yeah," he said at length. "That was really something how she was able to con him into working for us again."

Brey nodded in agreement. "When you get a chance," he said, "cast 'Upper' on Tim. Since it has the opposite effect as 'Sap', it should reverse the effects of my spell and return his skin to normal before it wears off."

Cristo eyed the old tutor suspiciously. "Why do you care about Tim's well-being?" he asked, rubbing his chin.

"Oh, no reason," Brey was quick to reply. "I just don't think anyone should have to endure such a spell for so long." However, Cristo could tell he was not telling the full truth and kept eyeing Brey in an attempt to coax the truth out of him.

Realizing he would not be able escape Cristo's scrutiny until he told him the truth, Brey turned to the bodyguard and asked, "Tell me. Did you notice a strange glimmer in Alena's eyes?"

"Not really, no," Cristo replied, somewhat confused by the question.

"I noticed it right away," Brey continued, looking back at the princess. "I've seen it a few times now but I'll never forget the first time I saw it."

"When was that?"

"Back at Santeem Castle," the old tutor replied, "right after she broke the wall in the study room."

Cristo blinked, not out of confusion but this time out of intrigue.

"She's planning something," Brey said. "She has an ulterior goal but I'm not quite sure what it is. I am sure, though, she will do almost anything to reach it."

He paused for a moment, looking back up to the bodyguard. "We ought to be careful," he added, "or she may even end up hurting us in an attempt to reach her goals."