Dylan's heels clacked against the marble floor as she made her way back to the courtroom. Her face was still flushed red as she lowered her head in embarrassment. Caspian had kissed her, but more importantly, she had kissed him back.

It was as though her disdain for human contact had converted itself into a craving for human warmth. She buried her face in her hands and lost herself in her misery. Perhaps she was ashamed that she had done something so foolish.

"Oh my," a woman said to her. "Are you alright, Lady Dylan?"

Dylan glanced up at her— a friendlier glance; as if she had temporarily forgotten about her embarrassment. Several nobles greeted her courteously as she passed, showering her with flattery and praise.

'Power-hungry humans are a danger.'

"I'm just a little bit overwhelmed," Dylan said, smiling weakly. "Thank you for your concern."

The older lady said, "Oh, you poor thing! It must have been exhausting for you, all this ruckus."

The lady began to chatter like a magpie, and Dylan nodded absently while she pretended to listen. She had no intention of entertaining people like her, but she didn't want to be rude.

"Madam," said Dylan, "I'm afraid I must return to my father's side."

"Oh, yes, of course!" the woman said, as she smiled and nodded. "Should I write to you to arrange a meeting with my son?"

Dylan plastered the best smile she could muster on her face. "Yes, please do so."

After rushed goodbyes, Dylan continued toward the courtroom. How many people had she encountered so far? Eleven? Twelve?

'I miss Cadence. If he were here, I would feel less vulnerable.'

Dylan walked faster and faster, desperately trying to reach the courtroom without having to greet another noble. She was close to panic as she rounded a corner and nearly ran smack into somebody.

"My apologies," she said, bowing slightly.

She was always aware of her surroundings even when it seemed she wasn't paying attention. This time, however, she was in such a frantic state that she had nearly knocked somebody over.

"Miss. Dylan," the person said.

She raised her head and met his gaze. Sir Pennel watched her with gleaming, unreadable eyes. He smiled again, that same sly smile that sent shivers down her spine.

"I've been looking for you for a while." He laughed huskily. "You're not an easy lady to find."

She felt uncomfortable under his gaze and gave a nervous laugh in return. "My apologies, I've been resting."

There was an uncomfortable silence. Sir Pennel continued to stare at Dylan for what seemed like an eternity.

'Is he not going to say anything back?'

After finally being unable to endure his stare any longer, Dylan said, "Please excuse me."

She lowered her eyes and tried to walk past him, but he blocked her path.

"Ah, Sir Pennel?" Dylan swallowed nervously. "Is something the matter?"

She stepped to the side, trying to go around him again, but he blocked her path once more.

'What kind of childish behaviour is this?'

"Sir, I really don't appreciate this kind of behaviour. I have somewhere to be right now. If you have something to say, then please say it quickly."

He grinned, then chuckled aloud. "I have a message for you," he said.

Sir Pennel reached into the righthand pocket of his jacket and pulled out a small object. He took hold of her hand and placed the object into her palm.

"You know how to play, right?" he asked her.

Dylan looked down at the cold object. It was the queen—the most powerful piece in the game of chess.

Her eyes widened but she forced a small smile. "What's the meaning of this?" she asked.

"Judging by your face, it seems like you already know."

Now it was all clear—the reason why the Emperor was interested in her, and why he meddling in her affairs. He intended to make Dylan into Caspian's Empress. In order for an engagement between her and Caspian to be possible, Dylan couldn't become heiress presumptive.

"I can't accept this." Dylan forced the chess piece back into his hand. "Take it back."

'I have no intention of becoming a pawn in somebody else's game. I have my own chess board to worry about.'

He was silent for a moment, his gaze alternating between the chess piece and her. The position of Empress was highly sought out. Why didn't she want it?

"I'm afraid it's not as easy as that," he replied, twirling the queen in his fingers. "To deny something like this is... unimaginable."

"Then you must learn to imagine it," she said, firmly.

He looked into her determined brown eyes. She was admirable. Her lovely, intelligent face. Her determined chin. The glow in her eyes. He could see why Emperor Katil wanted to place her next to Caspian so badly.

"Is something the matter?" a voice said from behind her.

Dylan spun around to see who was talking. It was Edwin.

"Grandpapa," she exclaimed, a look of relief flashing across her features. "I haven't seen you in a while."

Edwin ruffled her hair affectionately. "What are you two talking about over here?"

Sir Pennel gently slipped the chess piece into his pocket, and then cleared his throat. "Greetings," he said to Edwin. "If you'd please excuse us, Lady Dylan and I—"

"Dylan," Edwin said, cutting him off in the middle of his sentence. "Your father asked Laikin to find you, since you ran off all by yourself without a guard. Don't behave so rashly, dear."

A familiar man rounded the corner and came into view.

"There's my grandson," Edwin said, gesturing to Laikin with his head. "Run along now."

She let out a breath of relief and scurried off toward Laikin, who was patiently waiting for her at the end of her hall. She walked hurriedly without looking back.

Just as Dylan was going to push the doors to the courtroom open, she turned. "Why did you agree to help me?" she asked Laikin.

As Laikin tilted his head to look down at her, he suppressed an urge to dip his head just a few inches lower to kiss her lips.

"Why shouldn't I have?" he asked, smiling slightly. "It's the duty of a gentleman to help a lady when she is in need."

Dylan visibly cringed at his words. She didn't believe that women needed to be saved, or would be saved by men. If that was the case, then she would've been rescued a long time ago. Fairytales were simply fairytales in this world. There were no such things as being saved or living happily every after.

Laikin lifted his hand, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "You can rely on other people, Dylan," he said. "My grandfather and I both."

Freedom. She wanted freedom. Dylan couldn't rely on anyone or anything else to give her that.

Whether it was love or friendship, or something in-between—she didn't want any of it. Anything that would change her mind, or make her want to stay—she didn't want it.

"I'm not so weak that I can't stand on my own," she said, her hands floating midair in front of the doors. "Why do you keep thinking I need saving?"

He reached to touch her cheek, speaking softly as he lightly brushed the hair from her face. "That's exactly why I'm saying this to you. Just because you don't need saving, doesn't mean you have to do it all on your own."

A frown crossed her forehead and a sad look rose to her eyes. If she told him she wanted to leave, would he stop her? Would anyone let her go? Dylan bit her lip, thinking about the answers to her questions.

No. People were selfish and cruel. They would tie her down. They would force her to stay, even if it meant she could never be happy. Nobody would let her be free.

She turned away without another word, and pushed the doors open.

***

The jury returned a verdict after a two-hour deliberation.

Dylan began to fidget nervously in her seat. If Axil was found not guilty, she would be beaten mercilessly tonight.

'For once, please let life and fate be on my side.'

The Duke watched her, seeing her nervousness. "Everything will be fine," he said. "You'll be reunited with your brother soon."

Dylan swallowed a hard lump in her throat. "Yes, father."

Everyone held their breath in anxious anticipation desiring to see what would become of the Beaumon household. Countless, unblinking eyes watched hungrily from the audience as the judge opened his mouth to announce the final verdict.

"Ladies and gentlemen," the judge said, rising from his seat with a paper in hand. "After careful deliberation, it has been decided that Lord Axil de Beaumon is found guilty of all charges."

As expected, the audience erupted into chaos. Some nobles jumped to their feet, shouting obscenities. Others whispered with a spontaneous outpouring of enthusiasm. The Duke nearly collapsed, opening his mouth wide in shock. It was as if someone had unleashed a bomb in high society.

Dylan sat in her chair, watching it all go down. Huge crocodile tears filled her eyes and spilled down her cheeks.

'How amusing.'

"Father!" she exclaimed, shaking his shoulder. "Father, what do we do?"

"I don't..." The Duke could not finish for he broke into tears, shaking his head and burying his face in his hands. Shameful. It was all so shameful.

She glanced over at her brother who was just as shocked as the Duke. Axil had turned pale, and his lower lip was quivering. Dylan did her best to suppress a rising fit of laughter. Axil looked just like his personality. He looked pathetic.

Axil began cussing and screaming like a mad man as he was dragged away. He laughed maniacally and he grimaced so intensely that it twisted his face so that he looked insane. The nobles frowned at the disturbing scene, regarding him as if he had gone mad.

"Don't look, father," she whispered to the Duke. "Don't look."

Dylan hugged the Duke, burrowing her head against his shoulder. To others, they looked like a father and daughter comforting one another. What they didn't see, hidden beneath the heartwarming scene, was Dylan's hidden smirk.



AUTHOR'S NOTE:

Serves him right! What do you guys think?

There will be another interaction between Axil and Dylan, and she'll get to say some words to him so don't worry.

I also read your guys' comments and take into consideration what you want to happen when I write. Thank you for your support! It helps the story progress.