Part Three

The Crown Prince of the Oz kingdom could not believe the emotions that had somehow invaded him. He paced quickly along the row of windows in one of the large, empty ballrooms. What was wrong with him anyhow? He had never been one to feel anything at all. Of course there were small degrees of feeling, but nothing like he was experiencing at the moment.

Annoyed, Heero stopped his pacing and glared out the window unseeing. When he had cooled down a bit he began paying attention to the scene outside. A bit surprised, he shaded his eyes against the bright sun shining down and watched as Wufei stood beside Dahlia, observing her as she notched an arrow to a slim bow and drew it back. Her posture was flawless and when she let the arrow fly she hit the mark perfectly.

Heero spun around, casting a death glare onto his brother. For less than a second Trowa smirked faintly. “Why are you here?” Heero questioned as he composed himself.

Sensing the disperse of tenseness, Heero turned to fully face Trowa. The taller boy watched him with calm, green eyes, waiting.

The words rested at the tip of his tongue and Heero played through the phrasing in his mind, wondering if he could explain aloud all that he was feeling.

When it became apparent that Heero would not speak, Trowa broke the silence and said, “Do something easy and have a private meal with her. It should be enough.” Having said his share, the prince turned and left the room.

Heero returned his eyes to the window, watching as Dahlia set down quiver and bow, smiling, and readily accepted the arm Wufei offered her. The two headed towards one of the palace entrances and faded for Heero's line of sight.

Wufei and Duo walked down the halls in silence, only a foot between them so that they could easily begin playing their parts if they encountered other people. Duo was still wary about Wufei knowing who he was… and couldn't figure out why the prince didn't tell.

A few days into his stay, Duo had found himself alone with the black-haired prince and they fell into a general discussion. As they had quieted, Wufei rested his gaze steadily on the long-haired boy.

“Lady Dahlia is fictional, am I right?” Duo's jaw had dropped, allowing him no way to cover up the truth. Unbothered, Wufei continued, “in fact I believe you are none other than the Crown Prince Duo.”

“Fitting things together. Don't be tense. I have not revealed my discoveries. What you do and why are not a concern of mine at this point in time. If you wish to degrade yourself to a woman, go ahead.”

The sounds of brisk footsteps on the hall floor startled Duo from his reflections and immediately his arm slipped into Wufei's.

Soon Treize appeared, starling the two. All three stopped moving. The king briefly glanced at Duo before turning his attention fully to Wufei. “Would you retrieve Sally and send her to my rooms, please?”

“Of course, Sire,” Wufei replied immediately. The look in Treize's eyes hinted anger and a very faint fear and sadness. Surprised, Wufei ventured, “May I ask why?”

Briefly Wufei nodded, turning in the direction of a stairwell. “Sally is the chief healer,” her offered that piece of information before disappearing.

Coincidently he found himself entering a vast ballroom completely bare of occupants. The windows let in large amounts of light, making the room shine. Smiling, Duo walked in, slowly twirling in the light and feeling his skirts spin about him. He laughed a bit and closed his eyes. It felt right.

Duo was jerked to reality as a familiar voice called his disguise. Stopping his spin, Duo regained his equilibrium quickly and offered a polite smile to Heero, who was standing at the window. His heart was pounding fast, surprised to find someone else in the room…especially the one person that was sending his set emotions spinning about.

Heero moved towards the other, never breaking eye contact. “No nee,” he waved a dismissive hand. “My Lady, will you do me the honor of dining with me privately tomorrow evening?”

Astounded, Duo stood silent for a while, attempting to keep his jaw from dropping. “My… my lord, I- I'm flattered… I will certainly join you.”

Wufei entered the Healers' receiving room and swept a glance over the room. Conveniently the chief healer was at the other end of the room, shelving a leather-bound book.

The blond woman turned, eyebrows rising a bit in surprise. “Your Highness,” she did a brief curtsy in greeting. “What is it that you would request?” She walked towards him, her blue robes flowing easily with her.

Eyeing the young man, Sally nodded. “One moment, please, I might have need of my medical bag.” Wufei stood near the door, silently waiting as the woman double-checked the contents of a plain, leather bag before approaching him again.

They left together, Wufei just a few steps ahead of her. He took the stairs up two flights and then strode down a long hall carpeted with a maroon runner. Elegant carvings around broad doors signaled the king's chambers. Following procedure, Wufei rapped his knuckles on the doors and waited for admittance. It was surprising, however, when the king himself opened the doors and motioned the healer and his son into the room.

“Sire, may I inquire as to why I am here?” Sally questioned after being directed to a low couch adjacent to a chair that Wufei lowered himself onto.

Treize rested his gaze on Wufei for a time. Finally he spoke, still standing, “I am afraid the men managing the dungeons have taken advantage of their authority there. They will be answering to me. However, their victim needs your help.”

Sally was also standing at that point and Treize turned, moving towards one of the doors connecting to the room. Wufei and Sally followed with brisk strides as the king entered his own bedroom and on the bed of silk sheets and feathered comforters lay a dirty, thin creature stained with ugly wounds that would end in horrible scarring.

Not one to waste time, Sally immediately moved forward and began checking over her new patient, face grim. Wufei stood back with Treize, watching silent with anger boiling within. “Who did this?” His voice was low.

“I have yet to question the entry guard. He will be able to give all the names, but for now I see it better to have our prisoner treated.” Treize paused a few moments as Zechs moaned, beginning to enter consciousness again with Sally's prodding. “I do not believe he will die; neither do I believe that was the intention. It was torture, plain and simple; and was completely uncalled for.”

“It does. Torture is supposed to be followed by death, if torture is ever used. This man is too valuable to loose to death, however, and in the first place no torture was to be issued. Sally?”

The healer was firmly adjusting Zechs' swollen shoulder and putting the joint back into place. There was a low cry of pain before the Sanq king was silent again, unconsciousness taking over. “He needs to be washed clean and then his wounds need to be bandaged. I don't wish to move him too far, yet.”

“The bathing chamber is through those doors, let me get them filled.” Treize moved out of the room to call for servants for necessities while Wufei moved forward, offering to help Sally.

Dinner had gone amazingly well. Heero had been able to arrange for the meal to be served on his wide balcony overlooking the kingdom and Dahlia had spent much of the time gazing over the city and to the country beyond.

The wind had played with the young woman's hair, casting about stray chestnut strands to wave in the wind like thin banners. She was beautiful, indeed, and typically she was quiet around most people. However, when one had her talking, she could continue for hours.

Unlike many of the court ladies, she had interesting in-sights and many things to say. Her views were amazingly open and her skills were astounding. Thinking back to Relena and Meiran, the prince had to wonder if the females in Sanq were raised and trained differently than those in Oz. Here the women were quite reserved and dull, in his opinion. Although the Chief Healer, Sally, was kind and smart, always up to date. And he had heard stories of his mother before she had adjusted to life as queen. It seemed Lady Une had been a terrifying opponent to face against, her skills were enough to rival any knight's when she was thirteen.

At the moment Heero tried to envision Une with a sword in hand, hair pulled back, and her attacking thrusts at some nameless opponent. He couldn't see it, actually, when he thought of her calm face and soft eyes of brown that made her look half her age.

Over the meal, Dahlia had commented on the gardens Trowa had shown her earlier. They fell into conversation on the structure of the gardens and of the plants that were grown there. As that subject passed, they fell to silence and then began once again when she had questioned about the surrounding lands. Heero had suggested they take a ride someday to see the countryside, and Dahlia had looked stunned. Only then did Heero realize that she truly had believed herself some sort of prisoner to the palace.

With their meal complete, Heero stood and offered his arm for Dahlia to take. She stood and rested her hand lightly on his forearm. The prince was trained well enough to note the slight coloring on her face. As they left his rooms, Heero inquired, “What would you like to do, my lady?”

For a long while Dahlia was silent, seemingly contemplating. Then, she parted her lips and suggested, “The training levels… might I see them?”

Not liking how she used his title, Heero didn't respond but started down the hall to the stairs. Dahlia followed behind as they descended towards the lower levels of the palace. Pausing at a landing, he glanced back to ensure that his companion was still behind him. Dahlia raised a questioning eyebrow at him. Turning back around, Heero started towards the open training area where the room spread quite an expanse along the hallway. Taking the first door, he let Dahlia pass first.

She moved into the training area and studied the equipment along the walls. Something seemed to take her interest along the wall and she walked forward, Heero watching her carefully. His eyes narrowed, suspicious, when her hands fell upon an exquisitely crafted scythe. Easily she eased it off its rack and brought it with her as she walked towards the middle of the wide hall.

Partially amused, Heero waited to see how Dahlia would do while wearing skirts and wielding the staff weapon. His amusement faded, and a strange sort of shock fell over him, even reaching his countenance, when the girl began a series of swings and sweeps that were rather familiar. The style, the movement… mirrored preciously the Crown Prince of Sanq's practice. Relena had commented that the practice was “unique” and “used only by” her “brother.”

`It couldn't be…!' Part of his mind went into panic. What the hell was the Crown Prince doing in a dress, disguised as a female named Dahlia?

Presently “Dahlia” completed her exercise and she opened her eyes to find Heero staring at her with recognition and surprise. Realizing what had occurred, she suddenly dropped the scythe and backed away towards another door. “E-excuse me…” she managed to stammer, turning to flee. Heero was right after her, wanting - needing - explanations as to what was going on.

He caught her wrist, keeping her from going any further. Wide, frightened eyes turned back to him as “Dahlia” kept trying to pull away. “I want answers. Duo.”

Wufei wandered the halls of the large palace alone. Things were already quieting in the early evening, although his thoughts were in a tangled mess. An hour or two ago he had been basically ordered out of the King's chambers.

Once the water had been poured into the large basin for a sitting bath, Sally had begun washing out the Sanq king's hair with another basin of water while the filth from the dungeons soaked off the pale skin. Wufei had held the man up and while Sally began scrubbing at the dirty skin, his trained eyes picked out two very important marks…

“Sally, wait a moment and look…” Wufei leaned the king forward a bit and moved a finger to press briefly over the mark at the lower part of Zechs' shoulder blade. “It's a brand mark…” Trying to figure out if he was mistaken, Wufei finally managed, “…The symbol marks murder.”

The other mark was old, many years old, and the brand had obviously been poorly done for the mark couldn't be seen well. It was a blotchy mark at the king's left hip. Sally, who had paused while studying the marks, slowly took up the cloth again and still worked on the king's skin. After a time she had murmured, “I think you should leave…”

Wufei had been about to protest but then his father reentered the room and was standing beside him, his keen eyes finding the brands immediately. “Keep quiet on his state, Wufei.” It was an obvious dismissal and the prince had left.

Now he was left with the puzzling thought as to why the king of all people would have the brand of a murderer upon his back. The other in descript brand had meant something to Sally; she had tensed when she had caught sight of it. But what was it? Branding wasn't something often studied - most likely why the one on the man's hip wasn't clear - and only a few marks were actually known so that one might know what crime had been committed. But murder? One died for that. And why would a murderer be on Sanq's throne?

It was too many questions… Nothing made sense with those thoughts. Instead Wufei found himself returning the image of Zechs' back covered with scabs of blood. Patterns of holes… spikes… all along his backside. There had been the dislocated shoulder, which Sally had adjusted and would later bandage; but there were also long lashes of whip marks that seemed to be the oldest. Silently he vowed to deal with the cruel men that had issued the punishment himself. It was unjust to torture a man for no purpose.

What scars, besides all the physical damage, would be left on the man's soul? Murderer or not, enemy or not, such scarring was uncalled for, in his opinion. When Wufei finally arrived at the door to his rooms, he paused, staring at the woodwork. The look in Treize's eyes… something about the fascination that the king had for that man…

Voices turned his head and he watched as Heero stepped briskly down the hall, “Dahlia's” arm in a tight grasp. Frowning, Wufei stepped into their path, wondering what was going on. Last thing he'd known was that Heero had fallen for the disguised prince.

“Get out of the way,” Heero growled at him, a betrayed look shining from the back of his eyes. Wufei raised an eyebrow, resting his eyes on Duo's face. The foreign prince was gritting his teeth and struggling, obviously in pain.

Anyone else might have missed the pronoun Wufei used, but Heero caught it and his eyes narrowed. “You knew?” he demanded.

“Come in here,” Wufei directed, opening the door to his room and urging the other two to enter. After his door was shut, Wufei worked on releasing Heero's grip on Duo's arm. “Damn, don't do that without reason.”

Heero stormed towards the window, his back to the other two. “I can't believe it. Wufei, you knew? That's practically treason! I can't believe you, not reporting that!”

“But that's the Crown Prince,” Heero returned, spinning back around, eyes flaring with varying emotions. Duo flinched, becoming nervous at what his new situation would be. Would he be imprisoned like Zechs surely was?

Wufei let out a soft sigh, almost inaudible. “Heero, as long as someone always watches him and is with him, it makes no difference. We have no need to worry. The King is busy and cannot deal with someone like this for the moment.” He recalled the bloodied back and the brand marks. His eyes unfocused as he quieted, remembering all that had happened from the time he had entered the royal bedroom to see the dirtied creature upon pristine sheets. “Those bastards are go-”

“Wufei?” It was Duo; he was finally speaking. Wufei snapped to the present and stared at the foreign prince. “What were you talking about?”

“Nothing of your concern.” Wufei moved towards Heero. “If you're so upset, keep an eye on him. I have some important matters to take care of now and I cannot discuss them at this time. Don't do anything foolish to him.” Wufei glanced back at Duo and wondered briefly if the young man's back would suffer the damage like Zechs' had. “Only keep an eye on him, Heero. Don't do anything else. Don't hand him over. Don't you dare hand him over to the dungeons.” Wufei's fierce gaze suddenly met with Heero's cobalt gaze that was turning confused.

Wanting to groan, Wufei closed his eyes briefly to calm. “You don't want to do it. Just don't do it and don't worry on why I don't want you to…” As an afterthought he added, “You don't want to know.

“Now, leave my room and settle this peacefully.” He watched as Heero brushed past him with a cool gaze and then approached Duo. The foreign prince had watched the exchange silently, fearing his fate. He had become confused over Wufei's behavior and watched the prince while Heero led him from the room.

Once his doors were closed again, Wufei let himself drop onto the long, dark couch to his right and ran a face over his face. That man's abused back came back into his mind and the murder's brand blazed upon a shoulder blade circled with dried blood.

“What was the other mark?” he asked aloud of the dark room. He only hoped he would be allowed to be updated on the Sanq King's status; Treize would want to keep this quiet, which could very well mean he wouldn't know…