Cassandra - Part Two
    Nothing gave Cassandra pleasure like running full speed across the open fields and plains atop her horse, the wind in her whiskers, her tail streaming out behind with her gown's flowing material. Her white mare was tireless as it bounded over hill and stream, giving Cassandra the sensation of flight as she closed her eyes and imagined herself running under the light of the full moon, chasing elusive foxes and rabbits with a bow and arrow held ready. As a princess she had been trained in battle and hunting, as most female Jellicles were. Demeter followed her along the line of deep forest until their steeds brought them to the crystal-clear river that snaked through this half of the woods and eventually curved around to cross before where Castle Jukard stood: Dewdrop River.
    Giving their horses the freedom to rest, graze, and drink from the cool, sweet water, the two women sat at the river's edge, relishing the shade of the overhanging trees. While Cassandra stretched out angelically against the tree trunk, Demeter sat alert beside her, waiting for the slightest order as she had been brought up doing. She knew not to speak until she was spoken to...
    "You hear the gossip that goes on among the servants," Cassandra mused after a moment, bringing the maid servant's green eyes up to hers. "Tell me: what are the tales about that Alonzo tom?"
    "Alonzo, Your Highness?" Demeter asked meekly. The princess nodded, and the younger yellow Jellicle drew a long breath. "Noone is certain of where he came from, Milady. But, from what I have heard, the most common tale is that he was raised by the wild Mountain Cats far up north..."
    "Is that so?" Cassandra hummed. "What else?"
    "Well, Your Highness, it has been said that he can speak the Pollicle language, and that he once slaughtered an entire deer herd alone. They say he travels a gifted road that is favored by Heaviside."
    At the vocalization of this Cassandra laughed, her crystal voice carrying across the gentle river more clearly than its water. Speaking of this tom in such a way was speaking of an acorn as a mighty oak. Green eyes blinking curiously at her Lady's merriment, Demeter lowered her head to hide her chin behind her arms folded over her drawn-up knees. Cassandra's laughter died on the breeze, but her smile remained, and in the beautiful country scene spread out around her from Demeter's viewpoint she was nothing less than a goddess. The sunlight played over the sleek ruffles of her rose-colored dress in sparkling sequence, the pollen and tiny river insects darting about them like golden fairies. Cassandra's features were perfectly angled, sleek with an exotic suggestion which could have only come from her mother. Demeter could only wish she looked as beautiful.
    "Then I imagine that is all those stories are: tall tales. I have yet to see any proof of any tom doing such things, and don't believe that a poor ruffian like him could even compete."
    "You must admit, Highness, that he is a very unusual tom."
    Cassandra's smile faded, and her dark slanted eyes turned coldly to her maid servant. As though a chill had set over the summer scene Demeter's young golden face turned wide in horror. Lowering her knees so that they were folded under her, she held her blouse with one hand and lowered her head eagerly, her tail curling tight around her ankles.
    "Oh! I'm sorry, Milady. I didn't mean to contradict you. Forgive me, Your Highness."
    Cassandra turned her nose into the air again, dismissing the servant with a slow blink as she turned her face back out over the river. "You are forgiven," she said loftily, the trademark aloofness of her bloodline. "Now go back to Jukard. I would like to be alone."
    It was a moment that Demeter hesitated once climbing to her feet, her own judgement being a factor against leaving her princess alone in the forest so far from the castle. Cassandra's tail flicked sharply, the only gesture needed to send Demeter on her way. Reluctantly, the golden-furred woman untied the reins of her pony and climbed onto its back. Turning it to face back home, she glanced back once at Cassandra. The older woman was standing now, gazing down into the water with a statuesque appearance one could only describe as perfection. Sighing again her doubts, Demeter galloped away.

    It wasn't for her interruption that Cassandra had sent Demeter away, but her interpretation of this tom called Alonzo. She had been so close to the royal female's own thoughts...too close. Cassandra let her ears detect for her when Demeter was well on her way, and dictating it safe she stood up from her laid out position on the riverbank. Crossing her arms, she stepped towards the water, gazing out over its smooth unbroken surface. Once the pound of horsehooves faded into the distance she was enclosed in the serenity of nature's sounds...the splash of a fish further downriver, the chirp of the birds overhead in the tree whose shade she stood in, the buzz of insects who infested the trees around her and danced over the glass river, the sway of the wildflowers and waterlilies in the breeze, the distance call of a squirrel. It was all so clean and free of the tainting noises of city-life that Cassandra found she could think so much more clearly.
    Yes, Alonzo was an unusual tom. So unusual...since her conversation with Skimble the previous night she had been unable to decide what to really make of him. He was poor, filthy, with all the manners and etiquette customs of a wild Pollicle, and had on numerous times had shown blatant disrespect for her and what she stood for. If he cleaned his fur and adorned some proper clothing she might call him handsome, but that alone wouldn't suffice an answer for the curious attraction she felt for him. She could remember... Looking at Alonzo was like looking at the elaborate paintings hanging in Castle Jukard's walls of the ancient Jellicles: her distant ancestors who lived in the wilderness with the Pollicles and lived a nomadic life before they finally took to agriculture and settlements...the civilization she knew now. They were so primitive, and with that was the wild, untamed element that shown in their eyes. Even in paintings. It was the same thing she felt inside her...the urge to be wild. It was the same thing she saw when she looked at Alonzo.
    Looking at Alonzo was like seeing her ancestors. Wild, untamed, the glint in his eyes was that of a panther...the glow of a predator. It was that animalistic element that she felt drew her to him so often: that feral feeling that made her think of him so often when she told herself she despised him. He was mysterious, a tall, dark tom who remained elusive despite her efforts to find out more about him; remained feral despite her efforts to tame him.
    Looking down into the river Cassandra could see herself. Her perfection and beauty even she could admit were quite astounding, though she was never vain about them. Many were the nights she wished she could trade in her admitted beauty for the freedom of the peasants to come and go as they pleased. They thought so highly of her, of her looks, of her fortune. They all wished they could be princesses as well. They didn't know what it was like...they could only see it from the outside in. And they could have it if they wanted. All Cassandra yearned for was to dance as wild and free as she pleased. If any time seemed appropriate, it was now.
    Throwing caution to the breeze, Cassandra tore away her extravagant gown and stepped out into the sunlight, feeling the warmth drape over her slim brown fur which had for so long remained sheltered. In the paintings of the ancient Jellicles they did not wear the elaborate clothing that the Jellicles wore now. They wore nothing save their thick, beautifully-patterned fur. It wasn't a necessity that the Jellicles of Cassandra's time even wear clothes...their fur was sufficient against the weather and elements, more given to fashion and show than to use...and without it now she felt closer to her primitive ancestors than ever.
    Cassandra danced her last dance as a maiden without the hindrance of the frilly dress. Beside the river's flat bank she twirled and kicked with such grace and dexterity the tree-living squirrels would have been shamed. Her mind was nowhere inside her body, and yet it was in tune with everything around her: the ground, the trees, the river, the sky, the sun. This was her audience as she danced as natural as a Jellicle could be, lived the existence she wanted. For a fleeting moment in time she was who she really was inside, living the life she loved, doing what she longed to do. Reaching for the sky above, her claws scratched the air as her dance came to a steady close, the perspiration running beneath her fur unheeded. The pound of her heart, the euphoria in her head, the exhilaration of the dance made her feel truly alive.
    But this was all before her paradise was shattered by the steady clap of two hands behind her. Whirling, with an angry snarl as savage as a Mountain Cat, Cassandra's short mane bristled with menace as her eyes narrowed at the white and black figure leaning against a tree further back in the forest surrounding the river. Recognizing him instantly, Cassandra was overcome in a sudden strike of horror as she snatched up her dress, covering herself as she hissed: "Alonzo!"
    The broad-shouldered tom laughed heartily at her astonishment, his slow applause halted as he crossed his arms satisfactorily. His pleasure at catching her literally exposed was all too obvious.
    "You are quite a dancer," he observed merrily, the grin on his face that of a lynx. Cassandra hissed, holding her dress tightly over her figure as she feared too much to lower the top and slip back into it. To be light, she was furious at his spying on her, even moreso at his mocking laughter.
    "How dare you!" she snarled, her tail lashing in fits.
    "Oh, I dare," he chortled, reaching up to rub his chin. "I think the bigger question presently is why you were doing such an act when there is a risk of being seen?"
    Cassandra was trembling with anger, her claws threatening to tear the sleeves of her gown. Her teeth were clenched in a tight jaw as she ground out, enunciated each word angrily. "You turn around right now and go back to where you came from immediately or I will see to it myself you are beheaded!"
    Alonzo's laughter faded, with it his lynxish grin. "I've no reason to take orders from you, Princess," he drawled, withdrawing his support from the tree to take a steady pace closer to her. "It's events like this that keep reminding me that your royal folk aren't as god-like as you claim."
    Her ears flattened. Her tail bristled. "Turn around...NOW!" The queen was openly shocked when she found herself yelling...a thing she hadn't done in years. Her father had always dubbed it unsightly, a useless gesture made only by "less-perfect" beings. Alonzo wasn't impressed.
    "I won't," was all he said and began to approach her again. Cassandra backed away, her anger diminishing into the first touches of fear as she saw that same predatorial glow in his face, his movements. She stopped when she felt her feet brush the wet edge of the river. What was he going to do? Kidnap her for ransom? Ravish her? Kill her? These thoughts flashed through her head in furious gales. Being of royal blood she had never had considered such things before...and it frightened her. He was an arm's length from her now, the proud smirk returning under his whiskers. "Not as regal now, are you?"
    Cassandra opened her mouth to retaliate with another insult, but found herself floundering. Her mouth open, no sound came out. Her throat was frozen, all sound stifled in her trembling body at his closeness. She could smell him now...the traces of dirt and Pollicle blood still detectable, the more dominant odor being his male's musk that all toms possessed. It stung her nose and curled her tail at once, and for a moment it seemed inevitable that he was going to touch her when a horrible caterwaul rang out from behind him.
    In a series of movements that was too fast for her to follow, Cassandra saw Alonzo whirl to face the direction he had come, and seemingly at the same time pushed her roughly. Unable to keep her balance, Cassandra tumbled backwards with a cry that was drowned by the whinny of her mare as she splashed into the river, her gown flying from her hands as her backside sank into the muddy bottom. The slim brown woman scrambled to wipe water from her eyes, growling a string of curses quite unbecoming of a princess. Shaking her mane, another viscous growl and scream cut the air as she looked up.
    It was a creature Cassandra had never seen before. Enormous, larger than any bear, it had fur blacker than pitch, with blazing red eyes that glared out of a dark red-striped face. Its back was hunched and twisted, a grotesque deformation that only added ferocity to its lethal set of front claws and long sabre fangs. Rearing back, it swiping its scythe-like talons at the white and black man before it. Alonzo threw himself to the side, rolling low to come landing again on his feet in a low crouch with all the skill and agility of trained practice. The beast roared, gouging the soft riverbank with its claws, and whirling with a snarl, saliva oozing from its fangs in an endless hunger, it sets its sight on Cassandra. Drawing in a sharp breath of fear, the princess tried to regain her feet and scramble backwards deeper into the river. But the beast was already advancing, snapping its fangs, its enormous paws sloshing through the water like tree trunks.
    It swung out at Cassandra. The female cried out as the wind of the blow grazed her midsection, and again she toppled over backwards, nearly submerged in the river's depth. Gasping for air as she pushed her head back above the water, she again heard the frantic neigh of her mare, and with a frantic glance over the riverbank caught sight of Alonzo mounting her horse with ease. Grabbing her reins, the tom turned the horse easily and with a kick and yeowl was galloping full speed...away.
    He had abandoned her! Left her to fend for herself against this monster. Yeowling again a cat-like sound of anguish and fury, Cassandra again pushed herself to her feet. She braced herself, her tail curled and held high and rigid, her claws and fangs bared as she leaped--driven by outrage--onto the creature and tore at its thick, rancid fur. Disgraceful, her father would have said. An act of savages, not princesses, but Cassandra loved the exhilaration. Again she felt alive, scrambling over the back of this beast unhindered by dresses or concerns of how she looked. She found herself laughing as she felt dizzy with the rush of adrenaline, the scent of blood flaring her nostrils and whiskers as she took hold of a long spear shaft protruding from the beast's side and pulled it from its depths. It drove a roar of agony from the creature as it bucked and she drove it into its back again, reopening the old wound and jabbing it deeper. Again the creature bucked, leaping back onto the riverbank where it slammed its weight against a large oak: uprooting the tree and tossing Cassandra to the hard ground.
    A sharp pain cut through Cassandra's ribs as the breath was knocked from her lungs. Her slim body curled and contorted as she gasped for air, her eyes turning up in fear as the beast bore down upon her again. Its hot breath blasted over her bare fur, the pound of its limbs shaking the pebbles and dirt around them, and Cassandra had clenched her eyes shut as she was certain this was her death when the sound of a horse and its hooves brought her back. The queen was barely able to cry out in her surprise as she felt a burly limb wrap securely around her waist and lift her into the air. Her limbs flailed wildly, but her breath was short and knocked even moreso as she found herself flung over the shoulders of her white mare, Alonzo's knees holding her in place as the horse bucked and whinnied, then bolted as a furious sprint away from the river, carrying her two occupants as though they weighed nothing. Behind them, the howl of the beast was that of defeat, and eventually faded into the distance.

    Alonzo would have ridden the mare until it collapsed from exhaustion if Cassandra had not demanded he stop and let her rest. Pulling up beside a small outcrop of rocks set beside a break in the forest, a familiar landmark for most hunters, Alonzo tied the horse off in the shade. Sacrificing his tunic, he wiped the perspiration from the animal as it grazed. Over the shoulders and flanks, white foam was scraped away from the mare's spotless coat, a pampering in which the horse seemed to relish. Alonzo worked studiously, making sure no inch of the horse went unbrushed and that each spot was double-checked. Glancing over his shoulder, his eyes followed the forest shadow's edge until it broke into the large field covered in sunlight, and on the outcropping of rocks he saw Cassandra had taken up a perch. Her slim, shapely figure was stretched out leisurely on the river-smoothed rocks, basking in the warmth of the sun which gleamed off the accents of her cinnamon-brown slim coat. The tip of her tail twitched on its own, her arms crossed and her chin set on them, gazing out over the field away from the tom. Studying her face, he watched every angle of her slanted features shift with her thoughts. Each expression was a combination of beauty, a mere blink of her lashed eyes and flex of her whiskers possessed the grace of a fall wind, dancing its endless routine with multi-colored leaves, clearing a path for the majestic winter. He hadn't realized he had stopped his grooming until the mare nudged him insistently.
    Turning back to his work, Alonzo resolved that he had never known a female to appear so comfortable, so at-home, in just a covering of fur. Queens he had encountered in times past would never show their face if having been seen without their dresses or skirts. The concept of running about in their natural cover had long ago been ordained primitive and uncivilized, those who refused to change either going into the wilderness to live wild or exiled from the country altogether. Alonzo had no qualms about the laws. He did only what he must to get by.
    "That is quite enough," Cassandra purred, breaking Alonzo's train of thought. Observing again his tunic damp with the scent of horse, he tossed it over a low tree branch for later use. Clad now only in his brown leather trousers, he approached the rock outcrop and stood beside it, his arms crossed over his chest as he followed Cassandra's gaze out over the field. Grasshoppers buzzed from the long blades of prairie grass and stalks of wild wheat, mixed with the noise of bees among the wildflowers and the call of birds in the distance. Shimmering in the heat wave, the butterflies fluttering over the golden waves were tiny flickers of beautiful color, dancers in the wind. Like Cassandra.
    "Should you not be competing at the games?" was her next flat inquiry, as aloof as ever.
    "I have been," was Alonzo's solid answer. "I've not to fear yet of losing. The nobles who have gathered from other rich families are overgrown kittens who haven't a skill in their claws." He glanced sideways at her, but the queen had turned her face away. "I might as well ask you the same thing. It's getting on noon, and it won't be good going back to Jukard without your dress."
    Cassandra's tail flicked indignantly, her nose turned up into the air. "I have my ways of getting inside undetected."
    "Deception," the tom mused. "Bad qualities for such a princess."
    "What does it matter to you?" she scoffed. "A country ruffian with not the slightest sense of chivalry."
    "I, princess, am not a knight. Therefore I have no need or desire for the concept of chivalry."
    "Then what, I pray, are you?"
    Alonzo grinned, adopting a position of leaning against the rocks in favor for his previous rigid stance. "I'm a traveler. A rogue. I go where I want, do as I please, and have loyalty to no one except myself. I have only one man to look out for."
    A small "harrumph" from Cassandra, but her face didn't register the longing inside of her for such a life. A life of travel, excitement, and adventure. A life of freedom. Freedom...
    "What about yourself?" he voiced with a chuckle. "I would hardly think of a princess being comfortable without her dresses."
    At the mention of this Cassandra became self-conscious of herself and reached down to touch her flank. As she did her eyes slid over her form. Every angle streamlined to perfection, she glided her claws over her hip and through her tail, admiring the lack of bulky clothes. Smiling genuinely in a secretive way, she laughed gently and stretched out, watching her sleek limbs in the sunlight. "That is where you're wrong, peasant. I love the sense of freedom. I love to dance, to run..." Stretching her leg up, she caught herself being carried away, and promptly regathered herself and sat up, brushing her claws back through her short mane. "But I don't lower myself to such acts of disgrace."
    This time Alonzo did laugh, hearty, full-throated. "Of course! Of course, princess. That is exactly the reason why you don't stand alone by rivers to discard your dresses and dance."
    Cassandra rose to her feet aggressively, glaring at the tom from her heightened stance on the rock pile. "Peasants do not contradict their superiors here in Felinera, peasant! I don't care who you are or where you come from."
    Alonzo met her hard gaze, and to Cassandra's utter shock he grabbed her wrist and yanked her down to his level. Holding her wrist in a grip of iron unlike any she'd ever felt, he pulled her close so that their noses weren't but inches apart. Cassandra's breathing, rapid with mounting fury at his repeated defiance--even moreso that he possessed the audacity to force a grip on her, of royal blood--rose and felled her lean chest heavily. "Listen to me, princess," the tom rumbled. "I may be filthy, I may be poor, and I may be a renegade, but I am also proud and have my life exactly the way I want it. I also have my intelligence, and I know that royals like you aren't what you claim to be. You're nothing more than flamboyant swaggering dictators with delusions of Godhood."
    That was when Cassandra slapped him. Halting all sound, the two stared at each other in equal astonishment. Their eyes met and held each other locked in their gaze. Cassandra was lost of what to do. Having never raised a hand against another cat in her life, the sensation of venting her anger in violence was a distant concept to her. Stiffly, almost mechanically, Alonzo took hold of her other wrist in an equally strong grip and held her in place as he leaned forward swiftly and kissed her. The swift move, no more than a brief shoving together of their whiskers, defiant and strong, was enough to snap Cassandra back to her senses, and yeowling out in a fierce cry she attacked. Her claws reached for his throat, and caught off-guard Alonzo was bowled over backwards. Falling into the tall golden grass of the field, the two cat beings hissed and spat as they brawled across the ground, trampling foliage and stirring up swarms of insects. It ended finally when Cassandra lifted her supple back legs and kicked Alonzo's stomach, breaking his grip long enough for her to scramble away from him.
    Righting herself, Cassandra brushed down her ruffled fur, glaring at the tom who was doing likewise. Her claws had shredded what was left of his already-ratty trousers, and now they were a mere rag around his waist and tail. Wiping his eyes, the white and black tom turned to glare, licking a trickle of blood from his shoulder. "I knew I would curse myself for carrying you away from that creature."
    "I knew I would curse myself for not having you beheaded the first day you arrived here," she spat back. Alonzo snarled a curse in a language Cassandra didn't understand and stood up, gazing back in the direction of the white horse. She was still there. Cassandra stood up as well, her panting at such exertion only beginning to slow back to normal.
    "I had hoped those would last longer," the tom growled, detaching the rest of his trousers with a flick of his claw which severed the tight band that was their only support. The shredded rags were kicked away without further regard.
    Cassandra couldn't deny that she stared. Jellicles without clothing was not a vulgar thing: the items that all cultures considered taboo to show were well-covered by their trademark thick fur. That was not a worry. What she saw was a tom as Heaviside had meant them to be: fur spotless to the sight, strong muscles visibly gliding like liquid steel beneath his coat, glimmering under the summer sun. Cassandra found her breath stolen as he turned to look back at her, flicking back one black ear.
    "Princess, I do believe you are blushing."
    Blinking in realization, she rotated her face to the ground. "I did no such thing."
    "I know you didn't," the man purred, and when Cassandra looked up she found he was advancing towards her, standing a full head higher as he stopped not a paw's width from her this time, gazing down into her face with deep brown eyes. She'd never noticed his eye color before. They had a glint inside them, a detailed knowledge of what she craved to learn. When he spoke, it was the sound of a trickling stream. "I was not sure of what I thought I saw in you at first, but then I saw you by the river and I knew..." He reached for her slim brown hand, took it in his own, and despite all her instincts screaming against it, Cassandra didn't pull away. Gazing up into the serenity of his masculine features, the white fur and black patch over one eye and one side of his muzzle, was of such balance and beautiful mixture she couldn't help but admire. His voice was all she heard, surrounding her in its baritone melody. "You're not like other queens. You've the spirit of the wild." Alonzo took hold of her chin, but the royal blooded woman barely felt it. A strange warmth spread over her body, and it wasn't the sunlight any longer.
    "So have you," she wheezed, breathless, heart-fluttering. But words were no longer needed.
    Alonzo leaned down slowly, his eyes closing halfway, and Cassandra found herself tilting her head as well. Her eyes closed, and she could hardly believe what was happening when her lips pressed intensely against his.
    For a timeless moment Cassandra was suspended in space, weightless as her hands rose to trace over the finely-toned muscles of Alonzo's arms and shoulders, over the curves of his back and up through his fine mane. For an eternity she was swept up in a flood of rushing sensations she didn't want to question, didn't want to end. The feel of his own hands caressing her arched back and sides was a delightful, sensual passion that she had never felt before, but now savored every moment wrapped in his arms. After that eternity they parted, Cassandra gasping in a sweet breath to calm her racing heart. She looked up into Alonzo's eyes...he had the brownest eyes she'd ever seen...
    "How dare you kiss me," she said, barely over a whisper, her voice broken by a rushing pulse. If she came out sounding any more uncertain she could have been a kitten again.
    Alonzo's smile was reckless, daring, with that predatorial glow that pulled her in...so enticing...like a tiger... "I've always done things I'm not supposed to." And he kissed her again. Cassandra let herself fall into his embrace, a comfort she'd never known surrounding her within his warmth. Slipping her lithe hands up to his chest, she raked her claws gently through his fur, inhaling deep his scent. To feel one so close, unbarred by cloth, was a strange, sweet sensation. It was the common link that bound them together: something Heaviside itself could only have planned, the untamed flame of primal instinct that ruled their actions by day and their dreams by night. Cassandra forgot all else but this tom who shared her passions for the hunt and freedom, and lived it to the fullest. She wanted that kind of life, and, she realized with the utmost astonishment, she wanted him.
    "This cannot be happening," she whispered, pulling away yet remaining within his arms. Alonzo's pulse she could feel pounding in his chest where her hands rested, though his breath was slow and deep as his chin was set against her forehead. Turning her gaze out, she stared into the dark forest beyond them. It seemed so suddenly quiet, utterly magical as she stood here with the peace and comfort of Alonzo. The shafts of sunlight filtering through the trees were golden shafts that were alive with dancing insects, the scent of wildflowers in the air a lulling perfume that stopped time in its tracks. Cassandra felt her lithe tail intertwining with Alonzo's as though two snakes, performing their own dance of unity.
    "It is," the man purred, stroking her short, silky mane. Cassandra closed her eyes, drawing a breath of his scent that was all she would have needed to stay there forever. The emotion that intertwined them together was a bond that could outlast time itself, an explosion of inexpressible devotion and pleasure that neither wanted to kill by speaking further. Cassandra couldn't even find the words. What was this feeling that sent her emotions spinning out of control and up into a dizzying height of sensual pleasure? Why did it block out everything in her mind except Alonzo? Why had she never felt it before?
    It was love.
    That alone was the only way she could think of to describe it. A love so deep and so pure it outshone the sun, outlasted time, and outdid any previous devotion or desire ever felt by two beings under Heaviside. The fire was a burning energy...an endless supply of unbridled passion and strength that it took all she had and more to pull away from him, gasping for air untainted by his scent. "I must go," she rasped weakly. "It's noon...I must go back to Jukard..." Her voice was broken, choked with emotion, as she pulled away from his arms. Their brawny outline remained suspended, empty, yearning again for Cassandra to fill them. Alonzo's face showed an equal expression, that yearning, and realizing he had taken a hasty step to follow her he stopped, lowering his gaze to the ground.
    "Yes, you must," his voice followed. Cassandra turned away from him. She didn't look back, didn't utter a sound, as she mounted her horse and galloped away, her face streaming with tears of emotion unknown. Behind her she could see in her mind Alonzo still standing there, his brown eyes on her fading back. But what he would do now, now that she had exposed herself to him in so many ways, remained as much as mystery to the princess as how she was going to slip back into the castle unnoticed.

    The servant's entrance. Shortly after the sun had reached its mid-point in the daily climb in the emerald sky, the final games were to be set up just outside of Pawprin: the battle matches. Save for a few guards, Jukard was deserted. The servants had been given the day off to attend the games, and true to expectations the royalty and nobles had gone as well. Cassandra should also be in attendance. Slipping in through the small back wooden door used by the servants in their coming and going, she crouched low against the wall, keeping well in the small noontime shadows. She prayed to Heaviside that the guards patrolling the high battlements around the castle would not detect her. Each step was as though her last, her whiskers and ears twitching endlessly as the very rustle of grass beneath her paws was a bellowing trumpet in her ears. But Heaviside smiled upon her that day, and she reached the north wing of the towers and slipped up the spiral staircase into her chambers.
    Cassandra collapsed onto the silk covers of her bed an exhausted heap of debility: the result of devastating worries the previous night, strenuous dancing, and the realization she was in love rolled into one tremendous blow. Her nerves raw with weariness, she curled up as though a frightened child, gazing at the tapestry hanging on the stones of her wall as she hugged her pillow. Her arms were trembling, and no matter how much she squeezed the sack of downy feathers they would not cease. She hadn't the emotional reserves to cry any longer, for her mind was a thick fog, and she drifted through it without destination, without cognizance of anything around her. The breeze billowed out her purple curtains like rolling waves, and she watched them dully, blinking as the soft wind swept into the room and caressed her cheeks and fur the same way Alonzo had done, though not half as pleasant. She closed her eyes, sighing, letting her body go limp and rest, and she didn't know how long it was she had remained there when a sturdy pound resounded from her closed doorway.
    "Cassandra!" came the baritone voice of Munkustrap which drove the woman upright in a start. "Cassandra! For Heaviside's sake, will you come out? Your mare has gotten lose outside and you gave none of us any notice you were going to come back here."
    "Munkustrap," she gasped, standing up rigidly in a panic. He could never know! "I'll...I shall be right out. I was tired after the run and...came back here to rest. I must have been so tired I didn't tie her down enough. I fell asleep..."
    "Yes, very well, but do make haste, dear! Already the games have been postponed for your absence. Of all days to keep your people waiting..."
    She heard his voice move away, and hastily scrambled to adorn the gown that had been laid out for her by Demeter. After such an eventful day Cassandra had thought little about her recurring dread of the marriage that would take place after the sun set. But her worries were annulled by the notion that Alonzo, too, was to be fighting in this final challenge that would decide her mate. This small thought brought a smile to her lips as she slipped into the dress colored lavender, tying a necklace of amethyst about her slim throat, and brushing back her mane with a comb that had been sitting among violets all morning. Brushing out the folds of her dress, she drew in a breath and settled herself, regaining her regal composure as she swept out into the presence of her half-brother. The gray-striped tom looked her over approvingly.
    "If you were not my sister I would die fighting for the chance to be your mate," he smiled gently. Cassandra nodded curtly in return, extending her slim brown hand which, in accordance to proper etiquette, Munkustrap took a gentle hold of and walked with her down the spiral stone stairway where two guards were standing with his black stallion and her white mare at the ready. Each horse had been brushed and decorated as beautiful as their riders, flowers braided into their satin tails and silk scarves adorning their saddles. The traditional leather reins had been exchanged for strands of silver and gold, crafted by the finest smiths in the country. Cassandra was helped up to her mare by her brother, where she settled with practiced ease sitting sideways over the creature's back, watching as Munkustrap climbed aboard his own fine steed.
    "If you are ready," he offered. The princess nodded, and turning their horses outward the two rode side by side to the western border of Pawprin.