~ My ~ Fair ~ Princess ~



By Alexia Goddess



Chapter Five





*Breathe, Relena, breathe...just breath....just keep breathing...and
hold your temper! Keep your right and wrong speeches to yourself this
time, alright? Last time was horrible enough...no need to go and
get the Professor and Quatre and wonderful Noin in trouble, too....
though I doubt *they'd* get flogged... But a flogging would be better
than the humiliation I'm going to suffer since they'll believe me to be
a lady and- STOP IT! You're acting as if you've already done it! You
*won't!* Just hold your tongue like a lady should and everything will
be fine... Now, practive your verb pronounciations...There's a good
girl, Relena...*

Relena soundly wondered if she had gone mad, after listening to her
own thoughts run around in a jumble as Quatre stepped out of the
carriage that had just pulled up to the entrance to one of the grandest
horse race arenas in the country.

Quatre moved to offer his hand to Relena, when Heero got out first.
Quatre threw his gentlemanly-esq-lacking friend a hopeless glance before
succeeding in helping Relena out of the carriage.

"My dear, you're shaking," Quatre murmered.

"Pre-performance nerves," She whispered, giving him a shaky smile.
"Everything depends on me *being* a grand lady today. I can't fail..."

"Then you won't." Heero said suddenly, overhearing the conversation.
"At least you'd better not." And he walked towards the driver of the
carriage to give him instructions on what time to pick them up.

Quatre sighed forlornly. "He'll never be a gentleman at heart, but at
least he gave some form of encouragement. He never used to say anything
other than 'hn.'" He chuckled and Relena raised an eyebrow. She
extended her umbrella and rested it over her shoulder.

"Nothing else?" She asked elegantly. Might as well get into character
now...

"Nothing." Quatre said, offering his arm, and Relena took it. "We
learned to distinguish from his tone if he was angry, didn't care, or
if he meant 'yes' or 'no.'"

"How peculiar," Relena said with flair. Hilde had informed her that
'peculiar' was the latest word most popularily used by high born ladies.
Relena had thought it most ridiculous that there were *words* that were
in style as well as the dreadfully uncomfortable white dress and
humongous hat she wore. And really, they didn't match. The hat was
covered in an assortment of flowers that weighed a ton, while around
he waist as a half a foot wide pink and white candy-cane striped ribbon that
tied in a humongous bow at the small of her back.

But, fashion was fashion, and a lady wasn't a lady without it. Still,
Relena wasn't glad she wasn't responsible for such an outrageous outfit.

Presently the Professor caught up with them, as Quatre and Relena had
just gotten in line to hand in their tickets.

"No, no, we're sitting in Noventa's pew box." Heero said, annoyed.
"This way." He took Relena's arm, forcing her to unlink her other arm
from Quatre's, and follow as quickly as her tight skirt would allow.
He lead her and Quatre -Quatre smiling in amusement- to a privet
entrance. Heero flashed the three tickets at the gateman, and the
gateman opened the gate, revealing steps leading up to a lushly
decorated and comfortable platform with railings all the way around
and tall, greek style pillars. Since it was high up, you had a splendid
view of the entire race track.

The racers were admited onto the track to begin their parad just as
the threesome reached the pew box.

"Heero!" The exclaimation came from a woman with platinum blonde hair
and bright blue eyes, clad in a white gown a skirt that gave a little
more leeway than Relena's, an empire waist accented by a blue ribbon,
and a huge bonnett covered in bluebells that -in Relena's opinion-
weren't of the best quality. And she should know.

The woman embraced Heero briefly, which he did not return. Apparently
expecting his reaction -or rather, lack of- she then saw Quatre,
Relena on his arm once more.

"And Colenol Quatre, how lovely to see you both!" The woman moved and
lightly hugged Quatre, kissing him on both cheeks. She then saw Relena,
and her smile faltered slightly.

"And who might this charming young flower be?" She inquired, raising
her eyebrow at Quatre and Heero.

"How do you do?" Relena asked politely, bending her knees slightly in
a slight, casual bob of a curtsey. "My name is Relena Dorlain." Her
smile never faltered, her voice ever sincere.

"She's a niece of my cousin's husband's sister," Heero said casually,
accepting a flute glass of champagne from a server. Again, Relena noted
that although he lifted it to his lips in the manner of sipping it
lightly, he didn't actually drink any.

"The Professor was kind enough to allow me to attend this event with
himself and Colenol Quatre," Relena said politely, in the slightly
reserved manner appropriate for a girl under eighteen and not yet
married.

"How refreshingly charming and lovely," The woman's smile was genuine,
now. "I am Sylvia Noventa," She introduced herself, and the girls
clasped hands with a gentle touch in a delicate version of a handshake.

Trumpets sounded, preventing any of them from saying anything more,
as the horses and their riders finished their parade, and entered their
own little stalls in the starting blocks.

At the sight of the horses prancing in their starting stalls, some
fighting the bit, some waiting patiently, Relena felt her throat
seize up, and her stomach retch as cheers went up at the sound of the
gunshot. Her heart twisted cruelly as the horses leaped through the
now open gates. Oh, if only these people knew what really happened
back in those stables before and after the races...

"Are you all right, my dear?" Sylvia asked Relena, touching her shoulder.
Relena suppressed the instict to jump away, and smiled reassuringly.

"I'm fine, Miss Noventa," Relena assured her in a gentle voice. "Please,
accept my apologies for my mind being elsewhere. It was most rude of
me."

"Oh, think nothing of it child." Sylvia said. "Please, have a seat. I
know the air of the races is exciting. Is it your first time?"

Relena suddenly felt like a deer caught in the lamplight as she sat
in a white washed wicker chair, clutching the armrest so that her
knuckles went white.

"N-no," She swallowed, then forced a delicate smile. "I went once with...
with my father when I was young."

Okay, so that last bit was a lie. She had never known her father and
she had gone only two years ago. But at least the part about her having
been to the races at all was true...



*FLASH*BACK*


Relena was shaking with excitement and anticipation. She had done it!
For months she had watched the other street urchin boys sneak into the
horserace arenas through a hidden entrance through the stables. For
weeks she had fought with herself, whether or not to try it for
herself...what if she was caught? And even if she wasn't, was it
right?

No, it wasn't, but Relena was at a time in her life when she didn't
care about what was right or wrong anymore, aside from the extreme
things, like killing someone.

So she had finally done it. She had finally followed the street urchin
boys in. She had gotten seperated, but no matter; she could find her
way back.

So a thirteen year old Relena sneaked around till she found a little
hole in the wall that gave a good view of the track. A stack of hay
on her right, a bale behind her, and a stall wall to her left hid her
from view very well indeed.

It was just before the races were starting that a sound unlike any
other tore her attention from the track. It was a sound of agony and
rage, an inhuman sound, a sound that made Relena's young eyes widen in
terror, a sound that would give her nightmares for the rest of her
life. So she huddled down into the hay, terrified. It was because she
had burried herself back in the hay that she wasn't seen when a burly
man came into view, over past the bale of hay that had been to her
back, and down the hall.

What she saw made her retch in disgust; the man had a bloody whip in
his hand, and in his other he held the reins of a thrashing, screaming
horse. A magnificent horse, pure white and proud. Stripes of fiery red
blood crisscrossed the horse's sides and hide.

"There, and there ya bloody beast! That'll teach ye to defy me!"

"Stop..." Relena whispered, as the whip fell again. The horse screamed.

"Stop..." She sobbed, louder this time. Still the man didn't hear, and
again the whip lashed out...

"STOP IT!!!!!" Relena leaped up, screaming at the top of her lungs.

The whip paused, and the man turned. The horse gasped for air, but
didn't move other than that, for fear of the whip. His sides quivered,
pain screamed from his eyes as he looked at her...such pain and sorrow
Relena saw there, it marred her young heart permanently.

*Run,* The white stallion's eyes seemed to burn into her. *He'll bridle
and try to break you, too, like he did me. Run!*

But Relena stood fast, whether from sheer stupidity or bravery, she
never could tell. All she remembered was the man's sneer, the heavyness
in his footsteps as he came at her, the crack of the whip as it came
down...then nothing...nothing but the pain...




*END*FLASH*BACK*



Relena sat, her face pale as a sheet. She was saved from questioning,
however, as attention left her before she became white enough to draw
concern. The new object of attention in the pew box was the arrival of
two whom Sylvia's greeted fondly, and at whose arrival Heero became a
positive blackboard, he was so visibly stiff.

Relena was saved from rethinking on the sudden onslaught of memory by
her manners demanding she greet the newcomers. So she stood, put on her
game face, and let lady Relena take over, while girl Relena huddled
in the back of her mind, weeping.





*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*




Dorothy stepped down out of the carriage, assisted by a manservant
that had come with them, ridding on the back of the carriage. She
didn't give him a second thought as she turned and waited for her
'benefactor' to exit.

Dorothy made a shocking sight at the entrance to the horse races. It
was an unspoken rule that one -if one was a lady- wore white to such
an event. But Dorothy was never one for rules; she was clad in deep
hunter green, accented at her empire waist by an ice blue ribbon that
matched her eyes.

"You look lovely, child," Milliardo told her as he stepped down and
offered her arm. She took it delicately, extending her umbrella over
her shoulders as she did so. Another aspect of her shocking appearence
was she wore no hat; she let her long ice blonde tresses hang down
behind her, tammed only by a deep green velvet brocade headband.

"Of course I do," She said. Milliardo fixed her with a stern look.
"Because you're the one who taught me how to dress." She added smoothly.
Milliardo smirked. The girl was quick, it was true. And while her
none-white-attire would certainly draw attention....well, he wanted
her to make a spectacle, did he not? He knew that if he trained her to
be the perfect, china doll-esq lady that all other noblewoman were like,
he knew there was no doubt that Yuy would win hands down. No, if he was
to win, he had to go for something different...something new...something
fresh and vibrant.

Dorothy was definately vibrant. Though not as vibrant as another blonde
he remembered so fondly....

Milliardo smiled. Being an orphan was trying at times, especially when
Dorothy reminded him so much of his beloved little sister, God rest her
darling soul.

But he shouldn't think of such things, now! He had a wager to win...
He lead Dorothy over to the entrance to a privet pew box.

"Ticket, sir?" The gatekeeper added, trying to keep his eyes off 
Dorothy.

"I was personally invited by Miss Sylvia Noventa," Milliardo told him
with a frown, handing him the tickets. The gatekeeper looked them over,
then nodded and opened the gate. Dorothy, on Milliardo's arm, smiled
a rather cat-like grin as they ascended the steps to the platform that
was the pew box.

They were greeted warmly by Sylvia herself, whom Dorothy recognized
from a small portrait Milliardo had in his study. Dorothy also
recognized -from other portraits and sketches and a few photos Milliardo
happened to have- Colenol Quatre, and Lord Professor Heero Yuy. She
was aware of Milliardo's dislike for the younger Professor, and if 
Lord Yuy's posture was any indication, he returned Dorothy's benefactor's
sentiments.

The only person present who's identity Dorothy did not know was of the
young woman that simply *demanded* respect. Her honey golden hair was
arranged in a mass of golden ringlets that, coupled with her dazzling
blue-green cerulean eyes made her look like an angel, clad in white
and candy pink. Her eyes spoke volumes of hidden pain and sufferage,
but also of an innocent wisdom, knowledge, that was beyond her years.
What was even more peculiar, was that you could tell the girl had no
idea she possessed such a vast understanding or commanding presence.

Dorothy smiled as she realized that not only was this young woman her
competition, but that she had found a kindred spirit in this golden
haired beauty. Her smiled widened, as the woman introduced herself as
Relena Dorlayn, that Relena had her heart set on winning.

Dorothy had real competition in Relena, she realized, recognizing a
fighter's spirit. This would be an interesting contest, indeed...




To Be Continued...




Hey, this is actually decently long...cool! Okies, I have the rest of
the story planned down to a T, and I'm going to go work on chap 6
right now, so with some luck this story should be complete by next
week! Ja!


Smile More, Dream Always,
Alexia Goddess



*ALL STANDARD DISCLAIMERS APPLY*