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Yassia’s uneasy feelings and distrust were put more and more in the background of her mind. So far, Morgana had shown nothing but kindness and understanding to her and who was she to rely on hearsay? You should judge people by their deeds, of course, not their words and until now Morgana’s kindness had resulted only in promises, but this was more than she had expected in the first place, after the tight knot of fear she had felt when being brought before the queen. She HAD looked grim on this throne and it had not been hard to believe the rumors that had even reached the Griffith’s estate. During the time of the siege Yassia had stayed in the citadel, of course, but then had returned to her temporary home where the request of the Queen for attendance had reached her. Was she really calling it a request now in hindsight? Odd, how a few kind words could change your point of view… that was at least what the warning voice inside her head told her… But for now Yassia refused to listen.

“Thank you again, your Majesty”, Yassia said again, thinking that right now she almost felt as if her and Morgana were truly equals. Two young women of royalty, one ruling, the other preparing to, but they both seemed to be of the same world. “I am really glad you think that way!”

She was even more glad Morgana did not refuse her request of talking to the scouts, even if she surely had many more things to attend to. Was she loading any more on the debt side? Was this not a too dangerous game Yassia was playing? Or should she finally push all fears overboard and accept Morgana’s kindness as generosity?
“In danger of repeating myself: thank you!” Yassia replied with a little relieved laugh. “I hope I might learn to trust myself more in the future, as I need to be strong to rule. Strong like you seem to be. Maybe you can teach me?” she suggested with an almost comradely grin, but then the nervousness took hold of her primary feelings again. Holding her breath, she waited for Morgana to knock and enter. Would they be cooperative?

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((OOC: Shall we take turns with playing the scouts or what do you think? xD))

This last corner seemed to be her salvation. Yassia’s searching eyes fell onto the figure of a young woman, about her age or a little younger, who just came her way. Letting go a relieved sigh, she made to approach the woman, all the while taking in her features and demeanour. No servant in any way. Another noble, perhaps one of the knight’s wives? Or daughter? She seemed to be a little young to be a wife yet, but then again, many of noble birth were married young – even younger than the age Yassia would have been married at.
There was a distinctive look about her the princess seemed to recall, but no name came forth. That was unfortunate. Of course, Yassia could not be expected to know the whole court of Camelot inside out just inside a few weeks, but it still made her uncomfortable not to know who she was dealing with. The game of ranks and status was delicate enough in known surroundings, but offside terra firma, any misstep could turn into a disaster. Then again, friendliness and courtesy was never mislaid.

“Believe me, I wouldn’t be here did I know where exactly I was”, she confessed with a smile. “You might have guessed already, I lost my way. It’s not been long since I came here, and sometimes I take a wrong turn still.”
Sighing, she shrugged her shoulders. “If you might be so kind as to tell me the fastest way back into the rough region of the Grand Hall, I will be fine though.”
Something still striked a little familiar about this girl and Yassia racked her brain to find out where she might have seen her. In the Hall at an audience perhaps… or on the training ground, watching the knights fight? Ah, there was no use pondering over it now. She would find out eventually, or she would not. In her little time here, Yassia had to admit, she had not cared much to socialize. How naïve she had been, to think both uncle Leon and the king himself would literally jump at this opportunity to help her out, dropping all other subjects immediately. But Camelot had their own grievances. Right now, every man to spare was still searching for this Lady Morgana, apparently the king’s ward. Yassia could understand this to be the number one concern. Her own affairs would have to wait.

And while she waited, she could very well make some aquaintances.
“Forgive me, Mylady”, she started again, giving a respectful bow of her head. “How very inconsiderate of me to not introduce myself first. I am Yassia Dyfrène de Ailantha, Sir Leon’s niece.”

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(OOC: Afternoon is fine for me )

That sounded all so very much like a fairytale to Yassia’s ears, she had to smile. Even though her own life was far from able to present such wonderful news, the sting of jealousy she secretly had been waiting for did not come. She just felt happiness for her friend’s luck and found herself praying it would work out for her.
A servant then? Well that would almost make sure Romily would never return to her former life as a noblewoman, as a woman’s status was mostly derived from her husband’s. But Romily didn’t seem to care and so Yassia shouldn’t mourn over lost possibilities. She would never think different of her friend, even if she became a servant’s wife! She finally was free to do what any girl dreamt of: marrying for love – fingers crossed things would come to that!

A little ‘awww’ sound escaped Yassia’s lips as Romily told her about how her man had expressed his feelings quite so soon. Yes, a fairytale.
“Straightforward and honest then” she commented and gave the girl next to her an impulsive half-hug as they walked. “I hate to say it, but you might have found the perfect man. Honestly, usually they rather swallow their own tongue than say those three magic words.”
Yassia threw her head back in laughter. Oh, that was priceless. Did Romily really think Yassia would see this as scandalous? “Don’t you worry about a thing!” she assured, still giggling. “I’m more likely to be overcome by jealousy than by contempt. I wish you all the luck on earth with him and hope you will see him again soon.”

She was far too lost in her own thoughts to realise Romily’s unease. Normally, such a notion would not have been lost to her and she would have asked what was wrong. But she could also not deny her eyes strayed over to the two fighting men every so often, and suddenly she found herself stalling her pace, lingering to join the watching crowd. She could watch out for Leon later… right? Moving on her tiptoes and straining her neck, she tried to find out who was fighting. They both were good, no question of that, but as they both wore the Camelotian crest and were masked by helmets there was no telling - - or was there?
Just as her thoughts had reached that conclusion one of them disarmed the other with a classical trick – and Yassia had seen that trick too often in the past weeks to mistake it. So one of them was—
“...Gwaine”

Yassia’s head darted around to Romily and the sudden movement sent a painful spasm down the side of her neck. “Did you just … did you just say Gwaine?!”
She must have misheard! Probably her brain that had just recognized one of the knights to be Gwaine had somehow overlapped the name she had heard with the one in her mind. It couldn’t be!! Then again, if she hadn’t misheard, there could be another Gwaine… was the name that common? Probably not… and they had met in a tavern… just like Yassia and Gwaine… this was mind-wrenching, she had to make sure.
Turning fully to Romily now, she tried to explain her weird reaction. “It’s just… I know a Gwaine, but he is no servant… no, rather the opposite. What does your Gwaine look like?”

Yassia raised her brows in mild surprise and cocked her head, her front teeth gnawing on her lower lip to bite back a chuckle and some very over-excited comments she was practically bursting with. Romily had found someone after all?! Who was he? If he had stopped by the tavern apparently for the first time it could be no imminent local, but as he had returned at least once already, that meant it couldn’t have been a passing traveler.
And a picnic? Well now that really was a bit more than just idle talk…
Whistling low through her teeth, Yassia looked at Romily from the side. “My my my… someone’s been busy while I wasn’t looking. You know you’re not gonna get away with so little information, right? What’s his name, what does he do for a living? Is it the scholar I envisioned?”

But she also felt her friend’s hestitation and could very well understand why. Perhaps this truly was a matter that needed to be sorted out first. Feelings were always delicate, and prying into such business often enough could ruin more than it actually helped. So if Romily wasn’t going to tell any more for now, Yassia would be fine with it. If her friend really had feelings for this man, there would be no stopping her talking about him anyway. At least this was what Yassia expected most girls to do, even if you could hardly call Romily ‘most girls’.
So she let the matter drop for now and instead focused on their following encounter with her uncle Leon.

Yes, indeed, where could he be at this time of day? Yassia looked up at the sun guessing the time as they crossed the courtyard again. Most likely he was outside in the training ground. When she first came here, she had been a little surprised and slightly taken aback by how the people of Camelot seemed to see the training as a show worth watching. In Ailantha, no one but the knights had been allowed on the same ground, and it had been a little remote in the castle area as well. So, just because it had been forbidden, it had been one of Yassia’s favourite sports to sneak around the walls, watching Mircea and the other knights.
But here in Camelote, things apparently were different. As if it was a little tournament in itself, the courtiers took vivid interest in the training fights, commenting them and cheering for their heroes.

“I think he’s gonna be on the training field” she explained to Romily, directing her steps there. “At this time of day, everyone who wants can gather around the area and watch. I was very surprised by this foreign custom first, but now I got used to it.”
You heard the cheer of the small audience from afar, and Yassia tried to guess who was fighting right now. Maybe some of the new knights? Some of them seemed to have many sympathies in the female ground, and Gwaine above all of course. She only just managed to fight down an eyeroll.
Approaching the area, Yassia let her eyes scan the surroundings for her uncle and found him standing at the far end. Sighing inwardly, she prepared for having to push her way through.

Yassia frowned mildly at the prospects of her dear friend acting as her inferior in front of everyone else. That was not right! How long would she drag out this game of hiding her true identity before she finally came to her senses? It was not like Yassia would like to pry in Romily’s business, but she couldn’t help but wonder what was the reason behind this denial. This was not Carmelide, but Camelot, the very nerve center of chivalry and nobility in these parts which would surely welcome the stunning young lady with open arms, should she choose to reveal herself.
“But, Romily… why?” Her face was all confusion and concern. “Can I really not change your mind about this? Though of course”, she let her gaze wander once more over her friend’s appearance. “I do very much like this dress, and I must salute you for making it yourself. As if ever I could”, she quipped.

Resigning to the current outcome of things, Yassia couldn’t help but add however: “You will excuse me though for not treating you like a servant. That’ll be the day! You’re my best friend and the world shall know it, no matter who you pretend to be. Besides…” now a mischievous grin spread over her face, “I might not even need your help with my bodices… believe it or not, I practiced!”

Yassia squirmed visibly under Romily’s curious questions, as the topic was one she rather avoided. Yes, whyever not? There was a simple answer to all of it, but simple or not, the Princess wasn’t sure if Romily would also find it reasonable or satisfying.
“Because…” she sighed as she walked on over the large drawbridge and towards the outer ring that would eventually lead into the courtyard through another gate. “Because when I think of taking someone as my husband, I must take many things into account. I will not stay here, Romily, and you know it.” She shrugged, then continued to explain. “The man I will eventually choose will either have to be fit to rule at my side or rule in my name should I not be able to persuade the Crown Council to let go of this stupid law that forbids me to rule alone. He must have the qualities of a good king, bold enough to overcome any animosities directed towards him, but I also must be able to trust him, that he won’t overrule me in the end, driven by greed and yearning for power.”

Making a wide motion with her arm she seemed to encircle the whole of Camelot. “Find such a man for me and make it one that I can also bear to be in the same room with for more than ten minutes, and I promise you I will give him my hand before the day is through.”Dismissing the topic for now, Yassia laughed in response at Romily’s show of awe. “Believe me, when I first got here, I was just like you, but you get used to its splendor soon enough and start to complain about the long ways it takes you to get somewhere, because it is that big.”

Then she cocked her head, thinking about something. “Alright, if you’re not tired, then I will give you a choice. Do you want to put your things into my room first, or do you want to meet the man that matters most to me here – my uncle?”

More original??! Well, he had some nerve that king wannabe! Let him sit a few hours in a damp cell and then come up with something extraordinarily witty! She could have insulted him most creativly in her own mother tongue, but what would be the use in calling him the severed backside of an Ailanthan pallid-spotted mountain mutt, when he wouldn’t get the knack of it? Exactly! No use at all! He should be glad she was talking in terms his poor brain could grasp!
“Laugh all the while you can”, she called through the closed door. “We’ll see who will be the last one laughing!”

Then she settled on passing the time without going crazy. Something Mircea had told her suddenly crept back into her mind. Sometimes, he had said, when the old Josep talked about battle, and how you would feel the night before it, he said it was best to occupy your mind with something completely else. Do not let your mind go running in circles about what could happen the following morning or if it would be your last day. With such thoughts come fear, with fear comes paralyzing panic, and with palsy comes death. If you can’t keep your thoughts occupied, then do something. Talk to someone, or if you have no company, excersize yourself. Walk, run, do shadow fights if you must. Everything that keeps your mind from conjuring paralyzing pictures.

As Yassia was not in the right mood for shadow fights, she settled on a few different tasks, including trying her throwing skills on a few bold rats with a single pebble she had found in the straw. It was no weapon against anything human, but it worked well for those horrible little beasts and after a few succesful target practises they kept their distance.
Minutes trickled past and already Yassia could feel hunger creeping onto her. Where was her promised food?
Just like an answer, suddenly the door lock rattled and she saw it open. A guard stepped through, but instead of bringing something in, he beckoned her out.

“My master desires you to join him for dinner”, he spoke with a (very much failing) attempt to sound all courteous. “Huh…” Yassia growled, not moving. „What if I don’t desire to join him?“ The man grinned and showed a line of nearly rotten teeth. “I think he foresaw that, and told me to tell you, it’s either with him or with the rats. And I can tell you they’re fast and feisty when it comes to defending food.”
Yassia fumed inwardly. So it was either dinner with Cenred or the possibility of no dinner at all. Not really any choice.

Slowly she moved forward, glowering and hissing as the guard grabbed her arm and twisted it behind her back, holding her firmly. “Just so you don’t try anything, puppet. Wouldn’t that be a shame if you got lost on your way to dinner. Who knows…” he lowered his voice and cackled. “Maybe our king will even have you for dessert, you’re spicey enough.”
With her head held high, Yassia just ignored the roaring laughter of the two guards behind her, and stepped into the familiar big room in front of them. She would not be put off by a bit of saber rattling and immodest talk! Not her!

Had this been a bad juggler’s tale Yassia watched, she would have expected no other turn in the story. Of course Linda would come around RIGHT before they were finally finished. During the last few minutes she had been too occupied with keeping her calm to monitor her surroundings, perhaps seeing it coming or anything. How was Gwaine feeling about that? Apparently he hadn’t understood what she had been saying. Was that because what she supposed was logic in her own mind, had not come across as such, or was Gwaine somehow too distracted as well to keep track of what she was saying? But no… not Gwaine, right? He always was the superior one in a situation, and he might not have done the lacing before, but for that he coped extremely well! Perhaps because he knew how to do this the other way round? Nah, that was a thought she rather not dwelled upon too long. The embarrassment was enough as it was, without lingering on ‘interesting’ pictures in her head…

“I meant the lacing”, she rectified just the minute Linda showed herself behind their side of the curtain. Of course, just like Gwaine, she had not bothered to dress, as Yassia caught from out of the corner of her eye. Immediately she stiffened even more, praying to the stars for calm and composure. Again it was Gwaine who seemed to save the day. How could anyone be so collected in such a situation, so boldly assuming this was an every-day call? Oh right… they were posing as cousins. And between cousins there should be no awkwardness at all – in theory. Yassia could only congratulate Gwaine for his cheek, and she hoped with all her heart Linda would buy this – yet again. “I thought you were still sleeping, didn’t want to bother you, Linda”, she added with a hopefully genuine smile as she turned, adjusting the now laced up dress. Surprised how well it went in her eyes, she thanked her mannered upbringing for this special show. Gwaine’s ease was a real role model to follow suit.

Yassia might be naïve on many departments, but she was smart enough to realise when she was being sent away. It made her snort inwardly. Truly, like a father to his daughter: ‘honey, go buy yourself some sweets while mommy and I need to talk’… or do other things… After what had happened the previous night, Yassia wouldn’t be surprised if that was the case. After all, Linda seemed more than just a little grumpy, and apparently Gwaine had something in mind that might cheer her up…or her thoughts were running wild.
In any way, it was nothing Yassia wanted to dwell on, so she took the money, saying: “No, of course not. I will go see what I can pick up and take my time about it. It’s truly a lovely morning!”

With that she grabbed her side bag and headed out of the door with a smile and a hopefully no too cheery and fake wave, wandering down the street towards the tiny market place. This was no big village after all and there was not much about to kill time with, but even if she had to sit at the well for a solid hour, she would not risk to bask in on them too early…
Buying five sweet apples, she stored four away for later and crunched down on the fifth while she waited for time to pass, watching the people going around their daily work idly. With the last coin she bargained for a handful of tiny woodland strawberries, hiding them inside one of her belt pouches as a surprise on the way. She didn’t know whether Gwaine had the same sweet tooth as herself, but there was no harm in trying.
The Yassia of yesterday might have been still angry at Gwaine for his repeated jabs at her delicate mindset concerning what was modest, but now she found it was just not worth the bother.

No need for thanks?! Well, that might be Romily’s idea, but it was by no means Yassia’s! The gown being of no use to Romily didn’t diminish the generosity and friendliness of the gesture. Not in her eyes at least. So what if she didn’t want to wear it herself, she had still kept it all this time, so it must mean SOMETHING to her. And she probably wouldn’t have given it to anyone as well.
”There is always need for thanks when someone shows you the hand of friendship”, Yassia protested mildly. “At least that’s what I was taught ever since a little girl, and in my opinion you can’t go wrong with a few thanks too many. Only with a few too little.”

The way Romily talked about her nursemaid, reminded Yassia strongly of her own, Constancia. The woman had already be in midage when she had taken over the task of raising Yassia, pregnant with her last child of six. She had been a kind soul, and Yassia hoped she still was, even after she had been left with Guifré and all the trouble he might cause. In her opinion, Constancia would always be there, would maybe be the first to welcome her home, just as she had been the only one to see Yassia off in the night, when she had been fleeing with Mircea.
“I can understand that, really I can”, she commented compassionately and clucked her tongue. “Those who raise us will always have a dear place in our heart. But like Constancia, my nursemaid said: ‘There comes the time for the little birds to fly, and we might be able to catch them when they fall first, but then we can only watch.’” That sounded so very odd being translated into a different language. It lacked the beautiful ring and rhyme her mother tongue had brought to this phrase. But Yassia guessed it would have to do.

The minute Romily started to apologize, Yassia realised her friend had got it all wrong. Working up the strength to speak cost a few precious seconds and the misunderstanding just grew deeper. Finally, Yassia did the only thing she was able to do right now: she started to chuckle, shaking her head. Then, in the ends the words came to match. Locking her friend’s gaze, she replied, still interrupted by occasional chuckles: “Sweet stars, Romily, what ARE you talking about? This”, she pointed at herself, “is not me being offended, this is me being apparently in loss for words because I’m so grateful! I… I don’t know how to put it… it’s like… all this time things just tended to go wrong for me. Everything that could go wrong did. My brother was killed, leaving me heir to the throne, my father died an untimely death before I was ready to take up my role. Then my stepbrother who should have seen me safe to Camelot got lost in a shipwreck. I got stripped of everything that meant anything to me… and now you come and give me this dress, showing me you care…” she had to swallow hard again, but she smiled. “I guess I’m just not ready yet to believe the tide has finally turned.”

Would she ever be able to figure this man out? Every possible scenario Yassia could think up and prepare for, Cenred had knocked on the head just minutes after it had formed in her mind. What did he want with her? He was constantly moving back and forth between threatening her life and offering her some escape route on his terms. Way to obscure your own plans! If he was planning to keep her on her toes constantly, he was surely achieving his goal. How was she supposed to deal with this continuous up and down?
“You think?” she asked and cocked her head. “And here I was thinking your whole precious plan depends on me being who I am… my bad apparently.”

Yassia couldn’t deny she was getting extremely fed up by this, anger slowly crowding out the fear. That man really got some nerve, thinking he could play her like a harp! That she would spring when he said so, that a bit banging on the door and a knife would bring her down to her knees! She was made of far more than that! A descendant of proud royalty probably far older than his own filthy ancestry! Raising her chin proudly once more, Yassia stood at the wall, looking daggers at Cenred. Forgotten was the choking fear she had just felt a minute earlier, forgotten was all caution she had sworn herself to. It might be foolish to let go of the cunning she had planned to use just a moment earlier. It most definitely WAS foolish. But there were times when reasoning with Yassia was to no avail.

“Small talk and flattery? I think you got me wrong there”, she scoffed. “I was merely stating facts, but apparently reason is lost to you. So that is what I’m supposed to do? Spying for you in Camelot? I’ve got only two words for you there, King Cenred: Dream. On!”

Apparently Cenred didn’t expect her to agree, at least he was smart enough to know that. But he also knew that time was on his side. A few days? Everything in Yassia cringed at those prospects. Spending one night down here already felt like being sentenced to hell, but a few? Balling her fists and taking slow, levelled breaths Yassia tried to fight down the choking panic. At least he had talked about food and water, so he was not planning on starving her into agreement. She would not put that past him.
“Rot in hell!” she muttered after him, sliding down the wall to sit again. She might need her strength for what was to come.

With relief she watched him go, finally rid of his troublesome presence for a while. Would it really be days until he showed his face again? Suddenly this prospect seemed not so good anymore, however much she despised him. His company might be better than just that of the rats after all… if not by much.