chapter 4

"I’m glad to get out of those," Trowa sighed as he removed the layers of clothing.

Quatre followed his example. They knew they were safe from prying eyes. It had been made obviously clear to V’lac and Awk early on that they could not enter the "women’s" tent for Iggel would not have his daughters seen unveiled by outside males. V’lac and Awk accepted this and Iggel slept outside the tent for extra protection.

"We reach the city tomorrow," Quatre said.

Catherine shivered at the thought.

"You don’t have to go through with it if you don’t want to, Cathy," Trowa softly said from his crossed- legged position on the ground.

"No, it has to be done," she said with dread still obvious. "I don’t want to relive this again, and you might not find me next time," she said as she wrapped her arms around herself.

Quatre sat down beside her on the cot. He freed one of her hands and placed it between his.

"Catherine, I promise we will not let anything happen to you," he said, serious blue eyes attesting to his commitment. "I will find a way to be near no matter what."

Trowa quirked an eyebrow at the intensity behind Quatre’s words.

"Tomorrow I will show you the tracking device I will give you and how to activate it. That way, we can find you if we get separated."

Catherine nodded and was slightly more at ease with the idea, but she still did not like the idea of being separated from the boys, her sole refuge for the past five days.

After days of travel, they had finally made it to Belmar. The small domed city loomed before them. Catherine grasped Trowa’s hand as dread ran down her spine. They were going to be there to get her out, but she keep thinking what if they couldn’t. Quatre’s words of assurance from last night kept playing through her mind. He promised they would not fail her.

"V’lac," called Benzoin as they progressed down the street. He looked up at her questioningly. "Should we not stop at the shower house and make Catherine presentable for her future husband?"

It was obvious that the idea had not crossed his mind, but he found it a good one. So the small group headed for the bathhouses that the travelers used to wash the desert sand and sweat off before conducting their business in the city.

Before allowing Catherine to enter, V’lac pulled her aside and made sure she understood she could not escape. Catherine let him believe her spirit had been broken and she was giving in to his demands. She demurely entered the privet shower room with Benzoin and Ro.

It was much like the room they used in the palace only smaller. Instead of a long row of showers, there were only three stalls off of a small dressing room.

Catherine anxiously stepped into one of the stalls, closed the curtain, and stripped out of her soiled clothing, tossing them out as she removed each piece. The water felt good and refreshing after the illness and long trip. She felt like a new person as she shut off the water.

She poked her head around the curtain once she realized she had forgotten a towel. The two freshly shaved and showered boys, girded with towels, ran towels over their heads to dry their hair. Catherine found her eyes wandering over the curves of the blond. He was not as muscular as Trowa, but he was not lacking in that area. She felt a blush fill her face as she realized what she was doing.

"Uhm…," she said clearing her throat to gain their attention.

The boys placed their towels around their shoulders, and looked in her direction.

"Could someone please hand me a couple towels?" she asked using the curtain as a shield.

Trowa grabbed the desired items and handed them to his sister. She took the items and disappeared behind her shield. Minutes later she emerged with towels wrapped around her body and hair. The boys were partially dressed and their transformation to Benzoin and Ro had started.

"There is a fresh set of clothing for you there," informed Quatre as he pointed to the neatly folded items.

Catherine shifted uncomfortably as she pondered were to dress. If she dressed in the stall, the clothing would get wet. Parading around scantily clad she could deal with, but baring everything to her brother and Quatre was another.

"We will just sit over there with our backs to you while you dress," said Quatre pointing to a bench in the small room.

Catherine smiled appreciatively.

Trowa nudged the blond and the two took their positions with their backs to her.

Catherine dressed quickly with an eye constantly watching the boys. Once she was decently covered, she told them they could turn around.

They finished dressing and emerged to find the males of their group waiting for them.

They made their way through town till they came to a large house. V’lac knocked on the door. A gray haired servant answered.

"May I help you?" he said slowly and doubtfully.

"We are here to see his Excellency," V’lac said. "He is expecting us."

The old man allowed them to enter and escorted them to what was obviously a reception room. Chairs were set around the room with a couple sofas in the center. The group sat and waited. Benzoin and Catherine chatted quietly. Under the cover of their skirts, Benzoin placed her hand on Catherine’s.

Catherine smiled shyly and whispered a thank you.

The whole thing was unnoticed by V’lac and Awk, but not by the brother and devoted guardian who exchanged knowing looks over the couple.

The doors at the end of the room swished open and V’lac and Awk immediately stood and motioned for the others to do so too. The rest did as asked.

A tall well dressed man casually entered. His brown hair was combed back with a few wayward strands dangling into his forehead. He smiled self-assuredly at them in welcome.

"V’lac, I am glad to see you made it here safely," said the smooth velvety voice as the man shook V’lac’s hand. "And who are these others?" the man asked letting his eyes take in the group.

"Excellency, may I introduce Iggel and his daughters Benzoin and Ro. They aided us when Catherine was ill."

A look of concern crossed his face as he came up to Catherine and took her hands and held them between them.

"My dear, you were ill?" he asked dripping with distress.

Catherine resisted the urge to pull her hands away but she replied in her most chilling voice and met his eyes challengingly.

"Thank you for you concern. I am much better now thanks to Benzoin and Ro. They have tended to me well."

The man’s eyes alighted on the two women.

"Thank you for caring for my princess," he said.

The two women inclined their heads.

"It was our pleasure," said Benzoin.

"Let me reward you for your trouble," he said releasing Catherine’s hands.

"No need," assured Benzoin as Catherine stepped back between her two protectors. Benzoin slipped her hand into Catherine’s and watched the man’s reaction to the next statement. "Getting to know this beautiful and rare rose is reward enough."

The man’s eyes smiled at the statement, and he ran a finger down Catherine’s face.

"She is a beautiful rose."

Catherine clenched her teeth and Benzoin squeezed her hand reassuringly.

"Sir, I do ask that you allow us to give her a wedding gift before we leave," implored Benzoin.

"The name is Treize Khushrenada, and such obvious friends of my future wife may call me Treize.

"You honor us," coyly responded Benzoin tilting her head down in acceptance and so Treize could not see the anger bound to be in her eyes.

"You may giver her your gift," he smiled benevolently on them.

"Thank you. I will get it now."

Treize nodded before V’lac pulled him aside for a privet discussion.

"Yes," Treize asked slightly annoyed.

"Sir, I wanted to let you know, she did try to run."

Treize smiled satisfactorily at the news.

"I would be surprised if she had not," he said while his eyes soaked in Catherine’s form.

"I am sure she would have tried again if not for the threat to her friends," V’lac informed.

"I see," Treize drawled out rubbing his chin. "That is something worth knowing," he said as he watched Benzoin returned with a wooden box.

"For you, dear one," she said as she presented it to Catherine, "from Ro and me."

Catherine took the box and opened it. The inside was lined with a pail green cloth and it was divided into many compartments. In one of them was nestled a silver necklace with a silver rose. Catherine dangled the item before her and inhaled.

"It’s lovely," she gasped. "Thank you," she managed to say before clasping Benzoin in a hug.

Benzoin slipped an arm around Catherine and returned the gesture. Once Catherine pulled away, Ro offered to help her put it on. Catherine held up her hair while Ro secured the clasp. Catherine then hugged Ro.

"I’m counting on you, bro" she whispered to Ro.

She felt Ro’s nod against her shoulder before they pulled apart.

Treize strode toward the group.

"Please, stay, have dinner with us, and allow me to provide you lodging for the night," Treize said to Iggel and the girls but his gaze was upon Catherine.

At his request, her eyes lit at the opportunity to have Trowa and Quatre by her for one more evening and the protection they provided.

Iggel acceptance to the invitation.

"Good," said Treize delighted as he clasped his hands before him. "Lewis will show you to your rooms. If you need anything, ask. Dinner will be in a few hours."

Lewis appeared instantly. It was like he had been hovering outside the door for his master’s summons.

"Lewis, show Miss Catherine to the room we have prepared for her, place her friends in the room across from hers, and their father the next one down," Treize said.

"Yes Sir," Lewis bowed.

"Oh, Catherine," Treize called out as if the subject had almost slipped his mind. "I would like to show you around before dinner. I will be up to collect you in an hour and a half."

With that he ushered V’lac and Awk through the door he had entered.

Catherine paced her room as the appointed time neared. There was a nock at her door at the exact stated time. Catherine took a deep breath and let it out slowly before walking to the door and opening it.

"Good afternoon, my love," Treize said calmly before taking her hand and pressing it to his lips. "Let me show you the grounds."

He offered her his arm, and she looked at him full of distain.

"Like I have a choice," she bitterly said.

"Come, come, my dear," he good-naturedly said as he slipped his arm through hers and started walking toward the stairs, "there are many things we must talk about."

They were soon walking in a well manicured garden. In the center was a bed of roses. Catherine could not help but admire them.

"Lovely are they not?" Treize said hovering over Catherine as she leaned over to inhale the aroma of the bloom.

She tried to ignore him and the chill he caused to run down her spine.

"They are such a challenging plant and like you in so many ways."

"You don’t even know me," she challenged as she straightened and looked him in the eye.

"I know you better than you think," he sighed running a finger down her face.

She swiftly brushed his hand away causing him to chuckle.

"You are full of spirit."

"Why did you have me kidnapped?" Catherine finally demanded tired of the game being played.

"I saw you and knew you had to be my wife," he answered.

"So you just have me kidnapped and think I will fall at your feet," snarled Catherine with a wave of her arm.

"I think no such thing," he said stepping up to her and firmly clasping her upper arms. "I expect to have to win your trust. Give me a chance to show you how wonderful I can make your life."

Catherine managed to pull from his grasp.

"You have made it wonderful, alright! I get pulled from my family and friends, drug across the desert, become deathly ill, and the only people I can truly called friends were threatened with harm if I did not cooperate. They are probably still in danger now. You call that better," she challenged.

"I do regret the use of your friends in that manner."

Catherine glared at him unbelievingly.

"Would it make things easier if your friends could stay?" he asked.

"Why would I want them to when they will just be pawns to make me cooperate?" Catherine asked.

"I promise they will be safe, but you cannot confide in them the method by which you truly came here," he warned. "Anything else you can, even your sorrow at being here and having to marry me."

Catherine’s eyes asked how.

"Our marriage is an arraigned one. I saw you, and arraigned with your guardian for you to be my wife. You were not given a choice in the matter. It is close to the truth. Do we have a deal?"

Catherine chewed on her lower lip momentarily before nodding that they did.

"Good. You should also know you have free movement within the house and grounds," he said. "To go out, you must be accompanied by a guard, for your own safety. Don’t try going out, you will be caught. All entrances are monitored."

"Is my room monitored as well?" she asked.

"No privet room is monitored," he answered almost shocked that she would think he would stoop that low.

"So this is now my cage," she said dejectedly.

"All things must be given boundaries until they can be trusted beyond them."

She had had enough of this. She was tired and stressed.

"I want to go home," she said childishly. "I want to be with my brother and friends."

"You are weary," he patronized making Catherine madder. "I am sure things will look better after an evening with your friends and a good nights rest.

Catherine wanted to scratch his eyes out, but decided that was probably not the best course of action.

"It is time for dinner," he said and escorted her to the dinning room.

Above the couple in the garden, two sets of eyes watched from an upper story window.

"She is safe enough for the time being," Benzoin said. "We should get back to our room before they notice we are missing."

The other nodded, and they slipped away.

Lewis escorted Iggel and his daughters down for dinner. The first thing Trowa noticed was how ticked his sister was. If they did not have an objective to accomplish and their safety to consider, he was sure that Catherine would have clobbered Treize and left him to tend his own wounds.

They sat down a very lavish table, both in dining ware and food. Treize made polite conversation with them and doted on Catherine. Trowa silently watch from his seat as he slipped food beneath his veil and into his mouth.

"You have obviously become close to Catherine," Treize remarked to Benzoin.

"She is a sister of our hearts," Benzoin answered.

"I unfortunately have business to attend to and can not be here with Catherine all the time. She knows no one and will surly be lonely. Would you be willing to stay and keep her company at least until the wedding?" he asked.

Trowa clamped down on his lips to keep from chuckling at the unexpected boon Treize was giving them.

"When is the wedding?" Iggel asked.

"In two weeks. Then we will travel back to my main household in Kail.

"Father, may we?" Benzoin asked.

"I must continue to Fe-so, but you may stay. I will get you on my return," Iggel permitted.

"Good," Treize gratefully said. "I will rest easier knowing she is with friends.

Once dinner was concluded, they all retired to their own rooms.

Trowa laid stretched out on one of the beds.

"You know, if he did not think your were a girl, Treize might consider you a threat to his wooing my sister," said Trowa as he watched the blond for his reaction.

"What do you mean?" came a voice from the layers of cloth being removed.

Once freed, large blue eyes looked at Trowa innocently causing him to scoff.

"Come off it, Quatre! You couldn’t keep your hands off of her," Trowa took pleasure in pointing out. "You were always holding her hand."

"I just wanted to make sure she knew we were there for her," Quatre said as he hung his dress up and purposeful did not look at Trowa. How could he tell Trowa of his feelings for Catherine if he was not sure himself? At first, it was like she was just another of his sisters, but there was something more to it. All Quatre knew was that he had to protect her. He had to be there for her. He wanted to make her happy.

A knock at the door saved him from any more accusations from Trowa.

"Who’s there?" Quatre asked in his Benzoin voice.

"It’s me, Catherine. I’m alone," she whispered through the door.

"Come in," said Quatre.

Catherine opened the door just enough to slip in and closed it behind her. Trowa sat up as she entered, and Quatre’s heartbeat began to quicken as he watched her. She wore a light weight nightgown that drifted around her as she crossed the floor to sit by her brother.

"Tro," she said as she leaned her head on his shoulder. "I am so glad you are here."

Trowa placed an arm around her.

"So am I."

Quatre sat on his bed.

"Quatre, can we get out of here now?" she asked looking at him with eyes brimming with tears.

Quatre wanted to say yes right then and there, to say they would leave tonight, but he knew that now was not the time.

"We should wait till we are sure my men are in place. If we try now, we would have no one to back us up, and if we got caught, then there would be no escape," Quatre pointed out.

"All right," she pitifully sighed and the sound almost broke Quatre’s heart. "How long?"

"A few days," Quatre answered.

Catherine nodded.

"At least you two will be with me," she said as she wrapped her arms around her brother for comfort.

Trowa placed a kiss on the top of her head then looked at Quatre staring at them. Trowa silently challenged Quatre with a raised eyebrow. Quatre felt a flush rush to his cheeks and looked away.

Catherine looked up into Trowa’s face.

"It’s been a while since we have had to comfort either of us like this," she said not letting go of her anchor.

"That it has," answered Trowa.

"So what’s our game plan, Quatre?" Catherine asked locking her slate blue eyes on him causing him to momentarily freeze. Quatre chided himself for the laps before answering.

"We continue as we are, and keep our eyes and ears open for additional evidence. It would be more helpful if we have hard evidence against Treize rather than his word against ours."

"He had me kidnapped. He basically admitted it," Catherine said astounded.

"Treize is part of the royal family, very influential, very calculating and a very smooth talker. He could convince you to buy a load of sand," Quatre explained.

"Why would you want to buy sand? Your planet is nothing but sand," observed Catherine.

"That’s exactly my point. On a planet of sand, he can convince you that you have to buy sand. And not only any sand but his sand. That is why it is best if we have something tangible that will prove not to be forged," Quatre said. "If it were to come down to our word vs. his, I am sure he has papers to prove that he legally acquired you for his wife. He would argue that you were not happy and were trying to get out of it by saying he kidnapped you."

"But Trowa could verify that neither I nor our nonexistent guardian agreed to such a deal," Catherine countered.

"Once he would learn of Trowa’s presence, he would figure out some way around it," Quatre said sure of Treize’s abilities.

"So how is he related to the royal family?" Trowa asked.

"He is the grandson of the Sultan," Quatre neutrally answered. "Son of his eldest daughter, Sasha, making him next in line if the sultan does disinherit his son like he always threatens," said Quatre with a dark and sad shadow crossed his countenance.

"Since you lived there, did you know the prince?" Catherine asked disentangling herself from her brother to give Quatre her full attention on a topic she was curious about.

"Yes," answered Quatre.

"Niveous said his name was Cue'r. She seemed quite sad that he was not there when we performed at the palace," Catherine said.

"Snowflake would be," chuckled Quatre.

"Why does everyone call her Snowflake?" Catherine pressed.

"It is what her brother calls her," Quatre answered trying to satisfy Catherine’s curiosity.

"Why?" she asked.

"Because of the meaning of her name," he explained. "Niveous means like snow especially in appearance of whiteness. Her appearance is more fitting for a name meaning night or dark rather than like snow, so her brother took pleasure in tormenting her about the contrast and started calling her Snowflake. It eventually turned into an endearing pet name he had for her rather than something to make her mad."

"One of her sister’s friends called her that and she did not like it at all," Catherine said.

"You have to be a close friend to call her than and not suffer her wrath," Quatre said.

"Do you call her Snowflake to her face?" Catherine asked.

Quatre seemed to falter at the question.

"You can talk about the royal family all you want, but go over there and do it," Trowa said pushing Catherine off his bed and toward Quatre. "I’m going to go to sleep."

"Hey!" squealed Catherine as she was dislodged and stumbled over to the other bed and made herself comfortable.

Trowa pulled back the sheets and slipped under them.

"What about the prince?" Catherine asked taking the conversation back to the original topic. "What happened to cause such a rift?"

"It’s something that the family does not talk about much. What is known is there was a disagreement over something and the prince left. No one knows if he will ever return."

"That’s so sad," Catherine said, and Quatre agreed.

"Which of the girls is his full-blooded sister?" Catherine asked.

"None of them," Quatre answered. "He was the only child by the sultan’s last wife. She came to our planet as a delegate from Earth. The sultan fell madly in love with her instantly, but it took him two years to convince her of that. When they were finally married she gave to him one son. As time passed she found that life on this planet chafed at her, and when her son was three, she was called back to the earth she missed by her father’s illness. She wanted to take her son with her, but since he was the future ruler, she could not. She went back to earth. She was still a delegate and they soon had her traveling the galaxy once more. In her absence the prince was raised by his older sisters and the sultan’s other wives."

"How confusing for the poor boy," sympathetically said Catherine.

"He got away with murder," smiled Quatre. "There was always some sister to run to for protection or to let the blame fall on."

"Sound like he was spoiled rotten. Did he stay that way?" Catherine asked.

"His sisters always doted on him, and he could have turned out to be a monster, but his father made sure his son was brought up with strict discipline and sense of duty. Balance that with the kindness he got from his mother, and the prince turned out well."

"Why are you so interested in the prince?" Quatre asked.

"He seemed like a point of tension in the family, between the daughters and the father. They would only skirt the issue, and Niveous was so nice to Trowa and me, I wondered what was going on and if I could help."

"The only thing to help that situation will be time," Quatre said.

"Well, thanks for the info, Quatre," Catherine smiled before placing a light kiss on his cheek, "and thanks for coming to my rescue even though I am not totally rescued yet," she giggled. "Talking to you has made me forget my own troubles. See you in the morning."

"Night," Quatre softly called after her retreating form before she slips out the door.

After the door clicked shut, Quatre put his hand to where she kissed him and a smile spread across his face.

"Told you, you like her," Trowa’s voice drifted across the still room.

Quatre looked over at Trowa who was propped on his side by his elbow.

"Have you been awake the entire time?" Quatre protested.

"Who could sleep with you talking," he sheepishly smiled and was rewarded by a pillow in the face.

"Thanks for the time with her," said Quatre before retrieving his pillow.

"So, when are you going to tell us you’re the prince?" Trowa asked flooring Quatre.

Once he got over the shock he muttered, "It is always the quiet ones who ferret out the secrets."

Trowa softly chuckled in response before closing his eyes and drifting off to sleep.