Part 4 - Unknown Emotions

The room was silent except for their heavy breathing and the sounds of metal hitting metal when their swords met. The two knights moved with the grace and speed of skilled swordsmen. For a moment Heero thought he had actually gotten the upper hand in this battle, but one single miscalculated step cost him all. Suddenly he lost his footing, and at the same time his weapon was ripped from his hand. He froze and closed his eyes in defeat when he felt the blade of his opponent's sword touching his throat. A moment later the cold metal was pulled away.
"You are improving, Sir Yuy." Treize said, as he sheathed his sword and extended his hand toward the fallen knight. "You almost got me this time."
The brown-haired boy only snorted as he accepted his tutor's help and pulled himself up. He had failed. If this had been a real battle he would be dead now, and the fact that he almost killed his opponent would be of little comfort.
"We will take a break for now and continue once Wufei has arrived. I asked him to join us this morning," the captain suggested.

Milliardo had been watching the fight between Treize and Heero from across the room. He was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed in front of him. At the captains remark he raised one eyebrow in surprise. "Join us for what?"

"Wufei has been trained as a warrior since a very young age. Back in his country he was taught a special kind of self-defense. A technique that is ancient and well known to his people and referred to as Wushu (1)," Treize explained. "I thought that the two of you would appreciate his unique style of fighting without the use of a weapon."

"I've heard that he is a wizard," Milliardo remarked. Neither he nor Heero had met the captain's slave yet. But since everybody in the castle was talking about the young boy from the Far East, for one reason or another, the prince was curious to meet him.
"That is true," Treize confirmed.

Just then the door to the training room opened and the dark tanned, young boy walked in, accompanied by a guard. Captain Septm still didn't seem to trust Wufei, and to appease the man Treize had agreed to have a guard escort the young slave through the palace.

The captain dismissed the guard with a hand gesture then introduced Wufei to the prince and Heero.

Wufei bowed respectfully, but he was barely listening to what his master was saying. For some reason he couldn't tear his eyes from the boy beside the crown prince. He was sure he never met the knight before, yet that face with those prussian-blue eyes and the unruly brown hair seemed so familiar to him. He was even more confused when he noticed that the young boy was eying him just as thoroughly.

"I was just telling, Prince Milliardo about your fighting style," Treize spoke. "I was thinking that a little demonstration might be fun. Your Highness, if you would do us the honor? Use your dagger and try to attack Wufei."
The prince frowned at that proposition. Attacking an unarmed man wasn't something he considered very honorable, but he decided to play along and take it easy on the boy.
"Wufei, don't hurt him," the captain urged the young wizard.
Milliardo frowned. Shouldn't he be telling that to me? I'm the one with the weapon.

For a moment the two opponents just stood there starring at each other, then the blond prince moved swiftly. Wufei was ready for it. He blocked and countered the first few attacks with no effort at all. At one point he simply dropped to the floor, rolled out of reach and was back on his feet again faster than Milliardo could react. With one swift movement he jumped up and kicked the dagger out of the prince's hand. The next kick connected with Milliardo's chest making him almost stumble. Wufei dropped down again, caught himself on one wrist, spun around kicking the feet away under his opponent's body. Milliardo fell onto his back hard enough that the impact knocked the air out of him. By the time he could breathe again and the stars in front of his eyes disappeared, Wufei had pinned him down with his foot firmly lodged under the prince's chin.
Heero had watched each and every move the black-haired slave had made. It was amazing how quickly and efficiently Wufei had taken down his friend.

"Impressive," Milliardo panted, scrambling back to his feet once the young wizard had released him. "A little warning would have been nice though."
"But that would have spoiled the whole surprise," Treize answered smugly. He chuckled in amusement when Milliardo gave him an angry glare. "Enough sparring for today," he decided. "We will continue our usual lessons tomorrow morning. Wufei, let me call a guard to take you back to the tower."

"Treize, do you mind if Heero and I accompany Wufei? Milliardo asked.
The captain shook his head. "I don't mind at all."

***

Quatre was sitting in an empty stall in the furthest end of the stable, holding in the palm of his hand the ring that was easily his most precious possession in the palm of his hand. He couldn't stop thinking about his encounter with that strange boy in the cave. He wondered who the boy was and what he was doing, if there was any chance that he would ever see him again. He was so absorbed in his thoughts that he didn't even hear footsteps coming closer. Suddenly the ring was snatched out of his hand. Quatre jumped up.

"Give it back, it's mine." Eyes narrowed, hands clinched to fists he starred at the girl before him. Dorothy just smiled. "Not until you tell me when you got it from."
"I found it," Quatre snapped.
The blond girl shook her head. "That's not enough. You will have to do better than that," she told him.

"Okay," the boy agreed. "I found it in the woods last night underneath some leaves when I was digging for roots. And that's all there is to it. Now can I have the ring back, please?"

She just shrugged, obviously disappointed about the story, but gave the ring back to him as she had promised.
"You better hide it, Quatre. If somebody else sees it they might think you stole it of somebody and you will get yourself into trouble again. - Which reminds me, Uncle came home last night and he wasn't very pleased to find his personal stable boy wasn't here to tent to his horses."

Quatre's already light colored skin grew even paler, knowing that he was in for a good beating at the best.

"I told him I sent you to get some roots and herbs. That's what you were doing, wasn't it?" Dorothy added.
The blond-haired boy sighed in relieve. "Thank you, Miss Dorothy. That was very kind of you."
The girl snorted angrily. "Don't say that. Being kind is a weakness and it only gets in your way."

Quatre sighed again, this time it was a sad sigh. "That's where you are wrong, My Lady. There is so much hate and hurt in this world, I think it takes a very strong person to show kindness. There is nothing wrong with being kind to others."
She laughed bitter. "Quatre, how can you be so naïve?"
He shrugged. "Maybe I am naïve; maybe I just believe that in nature most people are good."
She laughed again, but this time she sounded almost amused. "You know, when you talk like that you remind me of somebody."

"Who?" He wanted to know.
"Princess Relena. She sounds just like you when she talks about how all the kingdoms could live in peace together if everybody would just try a little."
"You really like her, don't you?" It was more of a statement than a question.

Dorothy snorted in protest. "I wouldn't go as far to say that. However I do admit I like talking to her. Those verbal battles we engage in are …shall I say rather refreshing. And the way of her thinking is sometimes rather amusing. Do you know one time she said something to the point that if she had the power she would destroy each and every weapon on this world to stop people from killing each other."

"What's wrong with that?" Quatre wanted to know.

"You fool, don't you know you can't stop people from killing by just taking away their weapons. Humans will always fight. If they have to they will kill each other with their bare hands. It's just our nature."
With that she turned and left without another word, leaving an utterly surprised Quatre behind. The boy never knew what to make of her. Every time he thought he had Dorothy Catalonia figured out, she surprised him once again.

***

"I've heard that you do magic. What exactly does that mean?" Milliardo asked after the three teens had walked for a while silently through the halls of the castle. "I once saw a gypsy make things disappear. Is it something like that?"

Wufei almost gasped at that level of ignorance. "I work with spells, formulas and the help of elements. I don't do tricks." He replied. "Trying to deceive people with illusions is dishonorable and has nothing to do with real magic."

"Oh I see. So making things disappear is not real magic? Or isn't just that you don't know how to do it?" Milliardo asked with a slight grin.

For a moment Wufei considered teaching the young prince a little lesson about the consequences of teasing a wizard, but luckily for Milliardo his self-control was greater than his wish for retaliation, and he chose just to ignore the remark.

"Wufei, I want you to teach me," Heero suddenly spoke up. It was the first time he had said anything since they had met, and it surprised the young wizard somewhat.

"I beg your pardon, my Lord?"
"I want you to teach me the way you fight. Can you?" Heero inquired.

Wufei shrugged. "It depends, my Lord." He knew that it took a lot of self-discipline and endurance to master the art of Wushu. He had been very young when his Sifu, Master H, had started introducing him to it, since it was not only a simple art of self-defense, but also strengthened physical abilities, health and willpower. Even now he practiced whenever he could, if only as a form of exercise and to keep his body in shape. Having somebody to actually spar with would be nice. And something told him that the other boy, once he had learned the basics, was not going to be an easy opponent. That suited him just fine. Easy was only for the weak. "It takes a lot of commitment and practice. And we would have to ask my master for his approval first."

Heero nodded in acknowledgement. "Wufei, please call me Heero. I don't think we need to be excessively formal. Besides my title means little to me, as I have done nothing to deserve it."

"As you wish," the young wizard answered with a curt nod and a smile.

Milliardo felt a sting of jealousy at those words. Not being bound by the rules and etiquette of the royal court, made socializing a lot easier for Heero. Why couldn't it be the same for him? Milliardo was almost certain the idea of he crown prince being on a first name base with a slave would kill Sir Kenton, on the spot. He could almost hear the annoyingly nasally voice of his tutor, in his head. Your Highness, may I remind you how inappropriate it is for the future king…
So what? Damn the etiquette! Damn Kenton! I'm still my own person, not somebody's puppet on a string. Maybe it actually will kill him on the spot and I won't have to endure that man any longer? He thought with an hint of dark sarcasm.
"Heero is right. Formality is highly overrated. Wufei, please feel free to call me Milliardo."
"Are you sure that would be appropriate, your Highness?" the black-haired boy wondered.
"Probably not, but quite frankly I do not care." The prince shrugged.

"Milliardo, Heero!"
The small group halted and turned at the sound of a female voice behind them.
"Relena, what brings you here?" Milliardo asked his sister.
"I have been looking for you and Heero," she answered with a curious gaze at Wufei.

"Princess this is Wufei, Sir Treize's slave," her brother told her. "Wufei, meet my lovely sister Princess Relena."
"The wizard?" Relena asked. She too had heard people talk. Everybody was talking about the fact that there was a new wizard in the palace, and everybody was speculating what that meant. It had been so long since there had been a court magician.
"Yes, that's the one. Or so they say." Milliardo confirmed with a smirk. "He had yet to show us any of his magic tricks," he added, emphasizing the last word.

Keep it up and you will wake up as a fuzzy, little, rodent some day. Let's see if you will think that is funny, Wufei thought. He knew of course that the prince wasn't trying to be hurtful. Milliardo was just having some fun, but he didn't like the fact that it had to be fun at his expense.
Moments later they arrived at the South Tower, which people once again started to refer to as the Wizard's Tower. At the end of the winding stairway, the heavy wooden door was closed. Wufei raised his hand and at his swift gesture the door flew open. Another hand gesture and the window blinds opened. A flick of his fingers and at once a dozen candles lit up the room.
The young wizard was showing off for his guests, and it had the desired effect. At the sound of multiple gasps behind his back he grinned almost smugly.

Amazed already? I wonder what you would think I showed you what I'm really capable off.

***

"Why did you have to tease him, Milliardo?" Heero asked once they had left the tower.

The prince gave him the ghost of a grin. "Because, teasing somebody like you is no fun. It didn't seem to bother him, so what do you care anyway?"
Heero snorted. "Sometimes you can be a real arse, Milliardo, you know that?"

"Then why do you keep following me around like a little lost puppy?"
"More like a watchdog trying to keep you out of trouble," the dark-haired boy retorted.

"Right," Milliardo huffed. "Now I'm the one who keeps getting us into trouble?"

"Milliardo, Heero, that's quite enough." Relena scolded them. "I suggest you find something to occupy yourselves with before you start jumping on each other's throats. What is wrong with the two of you?"

Heero and Milliardo exchanged a long look and shrugged. They didn't really see anything wrong with their little verbal confrontation. It wasn't like they had never argued in the past.

Relena shook her head. "I don't think I want to be here when this turns into a fistfight." She was about to walk away, but turned once more to the brown-haired boy. "I'll see you later, Heero?"
He nodded once in confirmation. Milliardo raised one eyebrow in silent question, as his sister disappeared down the hallway.

His friend shrugged. "Relena is going through one of her artistic phases again. I was foolish enough to let her talk me into posing for one of her paintings."
"Clothed or in the nude?"

Heero snorted. "I'll pretend I did not hear that remark, your Highness." With that he turned and walked away quickly, leaving the blond prince behind.

Milliardo smirked. I made Heero blush. Now that's something one doesn't see every day.
For a moment he considered going to his chambers, but then without even really thinking he walked outside and into the rose garden. For as long as he could remember he came here when he wanted to be alone. In fact it was the only place in the palace where one could be truly alone. Not a single guard was stationed here. There were just flowers, birds and total privacy. His mother had created the garden, or so his father had told him. Milliardo had been very young when the queen had died and mostly knew her from pictures or stories his father had told him. But when he was sitting here in the inner most sanctuary of the Royal Palace he remembered little bits and pieces, like the smell of her perfume or the sound of her voice when she sang him to sleep.
Milliardo rubbed his temples, as he felt the slight pain of another approaching headache. He kept getting them since a few days now and he really didn't like them. He had even considered calling for the healer, but then convinced himself that it was probably just the effects of not sleeping very well and working too hard.

For god sake, I have been running myself rugged, no wonder I'm making myself sick. The least one would expect is for father to show a little appreciation or acknowledgement of the fact that I have been trying my best. But no, no matter what I do it's never good enough for him. I can never meet his expectations. - Wait, where did that just come from? Is that really how I feel? For a moment Milliardo felt somewhat guilty about his thoughts. But then another wave of pain and bitterness washed over him. What am I feeling guilty for? I'm the one being treated like dirt here. I bet father doesn't even care anyway. I'm no more than a person trained to replace him some day. Like the chef in the kitchen trains the replacement cook. I'm sure he never really wanted a son, just an heir."

***

Yes, my little prince, give in to your anger. It will make you feel better, the sorceress thought with a satisfied smile on her lips. She could feel that her spell was working. Soon his anger was going to turn into hate and he would become a perfect instrument of her plans. And after that he would die!

***

The following days found Heero quite busy. When he wasn't posing for Relena's portrait, he was practicing with Wufei.
Heero wasn't sure why he felt a strange kind of connection to the exotic looking boy. It wasn't the same connection that he felt to Milliardo. It was something completely different. It seemed that they knew each other for ages. When Captain Treize had introduced them when they had first met, a strange sensation of déjà vu, had overcome him, a feeling like the same had happened before.

Heero had learned from Treize that Wufei had been taking away from his home by force when he was rather young, and he could relate to that. He knew only to well what it meant to suddenly lose your home, your family; to have your life turned upside down and have no control over anything.

If he had known how, he would have told the other boy that they had a lot in common. But talking about his feelings was something Heero knew little about. Fighting on the other hand, that was something he understood. And apparently so did Wufei. The young wizard knew a lot more about fighting than he had led on that first day.
It was still early in the morning, but Heero was already in the training room. He was practicing the moves that Wufei had shown him the other day, determinate to give the other boy a good fight next time they sparred.
"Heero."
He turned to see King Stephán standing in the door, and he wondered how long the monarch had been watching him.

"Your Highness?" he asked.

"Relena came to see me last night. She told me that she is concerned about Milliardo." The king stepped into the room. "Heero, do you think I'm being too harsh on him?"

The boy with the unruly hair cringed inwardly at the simple question. "Sire, it is not my place to question you," he replied evasively.

"Never mind that for the moment," Stephán cut him off. "Just tell me what you think. You worry about him too, don't you?" The king's crystal blue eyes met those of Heero and he could read concern in them.

The boy nodded once. "He is becoming agitated and angry. He tries to hide it, but I know him well enough to see through his mask. - May I speak freely, Sire?"

"By all means, Heero. You should never feel like you couldn't speak your mind in front of me, boy."
"Thank you, your Highness. I think Milliardo is just exhausted. Weapons' training and tutoring on Royal Court etiquette is bad enough every day, even without having to attend court gatherings. He is trying hard to be perfect and not to disappoint you again." Heero knew only too well how hard it was to try to be perfect all the time.

The king sighed. He turned and for a long moment he starred thoughtfully at one of the family crests on the wall.
I'm turning into my own father. I'm putting the same pressure on Milliardo that my father put on me even so I swore I never would treat my children that way.

"Don't be too hard on yourself either, Sire." Heero said suddenly. "Sir Odin was tough on me too when I lived with him, but I knew he never did it to be cruel or hurtful. He just did the best he could to prepare me for my place in live. I'm sure Milliardo sees it the same way. When he becomes king some day he will be thankful for everything you taught him."

The king smiled mildly. "I believe you are right, Heero. Still, I think I should ease a little up on him. Would you accompany Relena and me to the St Martin orphanage tomorrow?"

The Peacecraft family had been supporting the orphanage, run by the nuns of the St Martin church, since generations. Twice every year, once during the summer season and once during the winter, the royal family visited the church, checking up on it and delivering some new clothes and toys for the children. The orphanage had its own choir and Sister Helen, the head nun, put up a great musical performance for their benefactors every time he visited.
"I would be honored." Heero replied.

"Then it's settled." King Stephán nodded in satisfaction. "You'll take Milliardo's place tomorrow. and that will give him some time to do as he wishes."

***

At the knock at the door Trowa looked up from the book he was reading.

"Who is it?" he asked.
"Your servant, your squire, your healer, your jester, your faithful companion… Whatever you want me too be, your Highness," sounded a familiar voice from the other side of the door. Trowa couldn't help but smile at his friend's cheerfulness.

"Please, come in Duo."

The boy with the chestnut hair walked in, carrying a small basket in one hand. "I need to re-dress your shoulder," he explained.

Trowa nodded. He and Duo had returned to Whitewater Castle, a small manor near the border to the Sanc Kingdom mainly used by Regent King Dekim during hunting season, after their nightly adventure. In order to avoid questions from his uncle Trowa had barely left his room since.
"Arms up," Duo commanded, after he had put the basket on the side-table next to Trowa's chair.

"You know, I'm not that ill. I can undress myself," the green eyed boy complained, as Duo started to untie the laces that held his tunic closed.

But his braided friend didn't want to hear it. "I'm sure you do. Only the last time you tried it the wound started bleeding again, remember? You can either let me take care of you or I'll go and get the healer, your choice."
Trowa sighed in resignation. "No, I don't want the healer."
Once the prince's well muscled torso was free of garments, Duo took a look at the bandages. He noted in satisfaction that, unlike the other day, no blood had soaked through them. He undressed the shoulder and was glad to see the wound itself looked well too. When he started to put on some of the salve he had brought, Trowa flinched. Duo cringed in sympathy. To distract his friend from the pain the braided boy started to tell him about an incident that he had witnessed the other night.

"…and then, with the help of a few servants Sir Grundar finally gets up on his steed. As drunk as he is he doesn't notice that somebody had undone the saddle belt," he recalled, but neglected to mention who that somebody was. "He spurs his horse and at the next moment, rider and saddle fly through the air and Sir Gundar lands headfirst in a pile of horse dung. The servants who helped him up say he smelled like a whole family of skunks." Duo laughed. "You should have seen it Trowa, it was so funny."

"Uh-huh..." Trowa replied. The braided boy frowned. This was about the fourth time he had gotten that same remark out of his friend.
"Do you think its going to rain grilled hens today?"

"Uh-huh..."
"Trowa, you have not listened to a word I said, have you?" Duo pouted. He knew that, because he talked a lot, most people hardly listened to him. Trowa was usually the exception. The young prince had never been a big talker, yet a perfect listener.

"Uh?…I'm sorry Duo. What did you say?" Trowa asked, finally snapping out of his thoughts.

"Never mind. What have you been thinking of?" Duo wanted to know, as he finished bandaging Trowa's wound and helped him back into his clothes.

The prince sighed. "That boy, I just can't get him out of my mind. There is something about him; I just don't know what it is."

"Yes," Duo confirmed grimly. "There is certainly something about him. He was using magic. Maybe he put some kind of spell on you."

"Duo!" Trowa admonished. "Not everybody who is able use magic is necessarily a wicked person. I thought you would be more open-minded about that. Or do you think that you or I are evil?"

The braided boy cringed a little under his friend's stern look. "That's different."
"No it's not. Him having the gift of being able to heal with the touch of his hands is not different than you and I being able to shift into big cats. He saved my live, Duo. He didn't have to do that. He didn't even know me." After a short pause Trowa added. "I want to see him again."

"Oh no, you're not." Duo shook his head resolutely.

"I wonder if he visits that cave often?"

"In case you have not noticed, that cave is located south of the border."
"Perhaps I could meet him there."

"Trowa! You are you listening to me?" Duo yelled at his friend. "We crossed over into the San Kingdom that night and were lucky a patrol didn't catch us. If you go there again you might as well put a sign around you neck that says: Triton IV, heir to the Barton Kingdom, come and take me prisoner. - There are easier ways to commit suicide, you know. I won't let you put yourself in danger. And I'll tie you to your bed until we go back to the Royal Palace, if I have to." The angry sparkle in those violet eyes left no doubt that Duo was dead serious.

***

More often than not lately, Milliardo found himself spending the evening in seclusion in the rose garden. His headaches still bothered him, sometimes to the point that he couldn't think clearly. Sitting out here in the cool evening breeze helped somewhat.

When he heard footsteps behind him he sighed inwardly but didn't turn. Maybe whoever it was would just go away and leave him alone. No such luck!

"Forgive me, your Highness, I really don't want to disturb you?"
Then why don't you just leave? Milliardo thought. Nevertheless he put on a polite smile as he and rose from the bench he was sitting on and turned around.

"Don't worry about it. How can I help you?" he asked.

The dark-haired man who was standing near the gate to the garden was wearing a guard uniform. He looked somewhat familiar. Perhaps he had been a member of his personal guard before Treize rebuilt it. Milliardo couldn't remember his name though.

"I'm not sure how to tell you this, your Highness. This is quite awkward," the soldier stammered. "But I think that you need to know."

"Know what?"
"Your, Highness when I became one of your guards I took an oath of loyalty that I'm taking very serious. I'm sure there are other people in this palace who feel the same way..."
Milliardo's eyes narrowed. The man spoke in riddles and he was not in the mood to solve riddles right now.
"What's your name?" he asked.
"Mueller, Sir."

"Mueller, why don't you just stop beating around the bush? What are you trying to say? You have my permission to speak freely, so get to the point."
"Thank you, your Highness. As I said, I'm not quite sure how to…"

"To the point," the prince snarled.

"Yes, Sir," Mueller nodded. "Word has it, that your father is planning to marry Lord Yuy to Princess Relena and make him the future king instead of you."
Yes, that was straight to the point, Milliardo had to admit.
"That's insane. Why would my father do something like that?"
"I'm not sure, your Highness. I just thought you should know. And I don't think it is fair toward you. No matter what, be assured that you will always have my loyalty."

Milliardo nodded in acknowledgement and appreciation of the fact. "Thank you, Mueller. I'll keep that in mind. You may go now."

The prince didn't see the evil smile playing around Mueller's lips as he walked away. He did his job well. His mistress would be pleased with him.
Milliardo's mind was in turmoil. For the most part he refused to believe what he had just heard, but there was that little nagging voice in the back of his mind that kept getting louder.

Father wouldn't do that to me. Unless of course he realizes that I'll never be able to live up to his expectations. Of course, Heero would be the rational choice. He has always been the perfect son that I never was.
No, the idea was absurd. He couldn't see Heero get along with something like that. behind his back, even if it was his father's idea. But then again, his friend had been spending more time with Relena lately than with him. And it wasn't really like Heero, or anybody else for that matter, could go anything against the king's orders. And then of course, becoming king might be hard to resist to somebody who had been born a commoner?
Milliardo shook his head, trying to banish the thought from his mind once more. Heero is my friend, he wouldn't do something like that to me. He just wouldn't …would he?

***

When Milliardo woke up in the morning he had almost forgotten with conversation with Mueller the evening before…Almost!

He dressed and went to meet with Heero and Treize for their morning training. As he walked down the corridor to the practice room his gazed through the large windows into the courtyard. He noticed a rather large number of soldiers and guards leaving the palace, and frowned in surprise. Such a big escort was usually only used to protect the King himself. And sure enough, as he looked closer Milliardo could make out his father on his white stallion in the midst of his personal guards.

I wonder where he is going? I don't remember him mentioning anything.

When Milliardo entered the practice room Captain Treize was already waiting.
"Good morning, your Highness. Shall we get started?" he asked.
"Aren't we going to wait for Heero?"

"Sir Yuy won't be practicing with us this morning," Treize told him. "He is accompanying your father and Princess Relena to St. Martin church."

"He is?" Milliardo asked surprised.
"Nobody told you about it?"
"I'm sure they did. I probably just forgot about it. In that case, Treize, if you don't mind can we skip lessons this morning? I don't really feel up to it today."
Treize nodded. "Of course, your Highness. Are you alright? Perhaps you should send for the healer if you are not feeling well."

Milliardo shook his head, the polite smile never leaving his face. He was surprised how easy it had become to keep up that mask. "No, I don't think that will be necessary. I'm just a little under the weather I think. I'll probably go back to bed. I'm sure I'll feel better by tomorrow. I'll see you then." With a curt nod he turned and left the room.

The prince's face was a mask of perfect calm as he walked back to his chambers. None of the guards he encountered on the way there would have guessed that he was fuming with rage. The door closed behind him and moments later there was a loud crash, as a chair was thrown against the wall, followed by another one.

I wonder how long it will take till…

Knock… knock…

"I'm fine, go away!"

"Are you sure, your Highness? We heard some noises…"
"I said I'm fine," Milliardo, unable to keep up the façade any longer, snarled angrily. "What part of that didn't you understand? Now leave me alone."

"As you wish, your Highness," the guard answered.

"Let me know when my father gets back."

"Yes, your Highness."

***

An almost timid knocking at the door woke Milliardo, and the prince realized that he had fallen asleep in the chair by the fireplace.
"What is it?" he asked in a still sleepy voice.

"Your Highness wanted to be informed when his Majesty the King returned."
"Thank you."
The prince rose. He felt stiff from sleeping in a rather uncomfortable position, which didn't help to improve his mood. As he walked out of his chambers his eyes fell upon the pieces of two broken chairs, reminiscences of his earlier fit of rage.

"Have somebody clean up in there," he told the nearest guard before he went off, looking for his father. He didn't have to search very long. The king was just walking into the main hall, Captain Septm by his side.

"Father?!"

King Stephán stopped his conversation with the captain of the guards and gave his son a tired look. "Not now, Milliardo."

"Father, I really need to talk to you," the prince urged.

"I said not now. Can't you see that I don't have time for you right now?" The moment those words were out the king realized they had sounded harsher than he had meant them to be.
"I'm sorry for bothering you," Milliardo snapped as he turned on his heels. "I'm sure if Heero would walk in here right now and wanted to speak you, you would make time for him."
What in god's name was that about? the king thought, as he watched his son storm out of the hall. For a moment he contemplated following him and demanding an explanation, but then he remembered Captain Septm still standing next to him.

Milliardo let his feet carry him without even thinking, but wasn't surprised when he ended up once again in the rose garden.

I hate him! I hate him! I wish he had never set foot in this castle!

***

Yvonne Catorce could not have been more pleased with the way things developed. Her sinister plan had started to take shape. She had three allies working on her side. Some people might underestimate them, but hate, anger and jealousy were most powerful forces.

That's right, Milliardo! Just give in to it. You have the right to be angry. Who do they think they are to treat you like this? You deserve better than that. And what about that back-stabbing coward pretending to be your friend, will you let him take away what rightfully is yours? Don't let him get away with it. Stop him before it is too late.

***

Heero had been looking for the Milliardo all over the palace. He had not seen his friend all day. After being most of the day at St. Martin's church together with the king and Relena, he had been looking forward to spending the evening with the prince. But Milliardo didn't even show up for supper. After checking the prince's chambers and pretty much every other place he could think of, Heero finally headed for the rose garden. He kicked himself mentally for not thinking of that earlier. And sure enough, he found the blond prince sitting on one of the stone benches that were arranged throughout the garden.

"What are you up to, Milliardo?" he asked innocently, as he walked closer.

The older teen turned toward him with a sarcastic smile. "Strangely enough, I was wondering the same thing about you." Then the smile fell out of his face and his ice blue eyes darkened. "What are you up to Heero Yuy?"

"I beg your pardon?" the brown-haired boy asked bewildered.

"When exactly did you decide that being the king's ward and my friend wasn't enough anymore?"
"What?"
"Or was all of this my father's idea?"

Heero looked at the young prince and frowned. He had never seen his friend like this. "Are you drunk, Milliardo?"

"No, unfortunately I'm painfully sober. Yes, I guess finding out that your best friend betrays you behind your back can be a very sobering experience." Milliardo got up from the bench he had been sitting on and walked toward the younger boy.

Heero was more confused than ever, and he started to get a little agitated. Milliardo's accusations, no matter how unfounded they were, stung. "What in gods name are you talking about?"

"Do not pretend you don't know."

"Just for the sake of it, let's assume I don't and you tell me."

"Fine," Milliardo snapped, standing almost toe to toe with his friend. "Explain me for example why you have been spending so much time with Relena and my father lately."
"Maybe because spending time with you is becoming more and more difficult," Heero snapped back.

"Is that so?" the prince asked dangerously soft. "Well, pardon me for not being perfect. I guess that's just it, isn't it? I have never been the perfect son, the perfect little soldier that says "yes" and "amen" to everything. No wonder father wants to replace me with somebody who fits that description better. There is just one problem I have not been able to figure out in his little plan. If he marries Relena off to you and wants you to become the heir to the throne, where does this leave his little misfit son in the story? Can you tell me?"
Heero shook his head in utter disbelieve. "I think you have lost your mind, Milliardo. Either that, or you really are drunk." He turned, ready to leave, but was stopped when the older teen grabbed him by the arm.

"Oh no, Heero. I'm not finished. You are not walking away from this."
"Let go of me!" Heero glared at him. He was ready to beat some sense into his friend if he had to, but Milliardo was apparently prepared to go even further. Letting go of the other boy's arm he took one step back, pulling his sword. "Defend yourself!"

Heero's eyes narrowed. "I'm not going to duel you."

"Don't think I'm not going to kill you just because you are too cowardly to pick up your weapon." Milliardo growled.
This isn't really happening. "Milliardo, you can't be serious."

"But I am." A vicious sparkle in the ice blue eyes was all the warning Heero got before the blond teen attacked.

He jumped back, reaching for his own sword, parrying the hit. Milliardo held nothing back, but his friend only deflected blow after blow, never attacking.

"This is not right." Heero panted. "Your accusations are wrong… And we shouldn't be fighting."

"I don't …believe you." Milliardo retorted.

Heero lowered his weapon and shook his head. "I'm not going to fight you, Milliardo. This is insane. I'm not going to do something I'll most certainly regret later on."

"Coward," Milliardo hissed. "But as I told you before, it makes no difference to me if you defend yourself or not." As his right hand moved quickly, down and forward, his weapon plunged into the younger boy's abdomen.

Heero's eyes went wide in pain and disbelieve. When the sword was pulled back he dropped to his knees. His hand lost hold of his own weapon. Blood started to soak through his tunic and vest. He opened his mouth as blood started to fill his lounges and breathing became difficult, and his body fell forward.

***

As usual Treize had picked up Wufei at the south tower once he was off duty. The captain was thrilled that the boy had found something to do that he seemed to be enjoying. He had never seen Wufei so enthusiastic. If it wasn't for him the boy would sit over his books and studies till late into the night.

As the two of them walked together back to their quarters the young wizard suddenly trembled. Treize got a hold of him, preventing him from collapsing.

I told him to take it easy. He is working too much and not getting enough sleep, the captain thought worriedly, but aloud he asked: "Are you alright, Wufei?"
The boy nodded, as he forced himself to take a few deep breaths. "I'm fine. But something just happened. Something terrible, Treize! I could feel it."
"What do you mean?" The captain frowned. "What happened?"
"I'm not sure. But we have to do something; quickly."

***

It was already late, but Quatre and two other stable boys were still unloading a haul of straw, trying to get a head start on it in the morning. The last thing he remembered was moving one of the large bales into the barn, then everything went black. When he came back to he was laying in the stable on some hay, two worried faces hovering over him.

"What…what happened?" he asked, carefully touching his aching head.

"You suddenly passed out. Are you alright?"

Quatre just nodded, as he started to recall what he had felt just before he lost consciousness. The fear… the confusion… the pain…Oh Allah, so much pain. He never had felt anything like it before and he never wanted to feel it again.

***

Duo woke up with a startled cry, his heart beating franticly in his chest. He jumped out of bed and run out of his room, dressed only in his nightclothes. Moments later he knocked on a door down the hall. A wave of relieve washed over him when Trowa opened that door from the other side, apparently unharmed and well.

"I just woke up and had that awful feeling that something had happened, even though I don't know what," the braided boy stammered.

Trowa nodded understandingly. He had felt it too.

"What was it?"

"I don't know." The green eyed boy answered, voice barley above a whisper. "You want to come in?"

Duo nodded. The last thing he wanted right now was to spend the rest of the night alone in his chambers.