The weak winter sun had barely crested the far eastern horizon when all four gates of Hendell's fortress were thrown open. Through the fog of the frost-covered plains came carriages and carts of all shapes and sizes, carrying both dishevelled, grumbling traders and their expensive wares and foods. From the north came the finest seafood from the coastal town of Alistair, while traders from farms in the west brought fresh vegetables and exquisite meats. It was strange to see such a parade of peddlers this late in the cold season, as most years saw the fortress stocking up on foodstuffs early in winter to avoid shortages, which meant little use in long journeys back and forth across the plains. A colourful convoy of entertainers' trailers rolled through the eastern gates, having travelled from Port Equayn, heralding their arrival with song and dance in the crisp morning air. And finally, from the south came the royal carriages, all crimson hardwood and plush blue velvet, followed by a very foreign carriage of white and black.

It had been many months since anyone had seen King or Queen Hendell in their own lands, but, finally, they and their teenage son had returned.

In the short time leading up to their arrival, early on a cold winter's morning, the employees from the castle were busy preparing for a great feast to be held that night, where the King and Queen would finally announce the betrothal of their own Prince Hendell to Princess Marwane, the young Royal from their neighbouring lands.

Hendell, situated at the northern end of the continent, was a land of rolling plains and rich soil. It was a farming land, for those who lived with the earth and understood the elements in much the same way they understood themselves. It was a peaceful land, for the most part, with friendly people and towns spread across the plains to the sea on the east, west, and south.

To the south, however, was Marwane. The border of the two lands began at the mountain steppes, a series of small undulating hills that slowly increased in size until they met the towering mountain range, aptly named the Gorge. Layer upon layer of grey and blue peaks lined the Gorge, where a narrow pass for a river and a winding, overgrown carriageway was the only way between the two lands. Beyond the Gorge, the Marwane lands were made up of expansive woodland and forests areas, lakes, valleys and crags.

At only nine-years of age, Elian, the only daughter of King and Queen Marwane, was far too young to marry. The night's festivities were to be seen as an engagement ball, a promise of marriage; the wedding would take place ten years hence, when Elian was nineteen and of-age.

The youngest of the Hendell servants, the girls and boys who were too young to serve at the feast that night, were ushered to the northern castle gate, along with the flocks of interested villagers, to greet the Royal family as they returned from Marwane, the Marwanes themselves still on the way. There were but a few servants among the bustling crowds of villagers, and they were under the close eye of Prince Reid's Servant Guard and a group of well-trained soldiers from the castle.

Sonnet, a young maid, was surprised to find herself at the very front of the chattering procession. Many of the girls her age were working on the feast, and she sighed at the thought. They had stopped her from attending for good reason; she was one of the clumsiest girls in the castle. She couldn't do anything right in the eyes of the High Maid, the servant who specifically looked after the Prince. The woman was elderly, with a mother's smile, and, even though she looked fondly upon Sonnet, she made sure to keep the girl from any events in which she could make a fool of herself. It was often thought that, had Sonnet been as capable as the other girls her age, she would be a stand-out candidate for the position of High Maid when the current one retired, purely because of her reasonably calm and friendly exterior. It was rare for her to feel unsure of herself, despite her lack of grace.

On this day, however, the fact that she was at the front of the rows of servants made her tremble. There were very few things that could rattle Sonnet, but close proximity to the Royal family was one of them. She was right beside the narrow cobblestone street that would serve as the Royals' entryway to the centre of the castle village and into the castle itself; the thought made her queasy.

"Can you believe that the Marwane Princess is only nine years of age?"

"Those Marwanes are nuthin' but trouble, they are."

"Why did our King visit them at such a troubling time?"

"Are we to just ignore the Marwane's frequent border incursions?"

"I heard Prince Reid is going to be marrying the Princess."

"Has anyone ever seen the Princess?"

Taking no notice of what others were saying behind her, too busy worrying about where she was standing, Sonnet steeled herself as the Royals arrived outside the palace entrance. Clothed in nothing but a rag of a dress and thick winter boots, she felt a chill run through her. She ran a hand through her tangled locks of brown hair, suddenly aware that they were indeed in need of a scrub, but she certainly had no time for that now. She was suddenly glad that it was only the Hendell's carriage that would be traversing this street; the Marwanes were to be escorted to their chambers privately, with no fanfare, as was their request.

The trumpets sounded in a wave of triumph as the beautiful carriage turned into the street amongst loud conversation. An elegantly dressed footman sat atop the carriage seat, and he slowed the horses to a leisurely walk as, with a roar of applause, the windows of the carriage were thrown open dramatically and the head and shoulders of a large, broad man - King Hendell - emerged from the darkness. The King was a rather arrogant man, with a face that confirmed it. Attired in the signature colours of Hendell – crimson and navy blue – he looked as mighty as his title suggested, and even more so. With a haughty smile gracing his face, he lifted a hand and waved luxuriously to the crowd of people as the carriage rolled past, making sure to elicit applause and shouts as he went. Sonnet herself held her breath, watching him warily, as if only a slight moment in which she breathed would see her losing her balance and falling face-first onto the icy road and into the path of the Royal carriage.

Sitting beside the King in the carriage was the Ice Maiden, Queen Hendell. Her title suggested a face of pure stone, with no emotion or beauty, but as the carriage rolled past her tired, dark-rimmed eyes scanned the crowd, and she smiled, sending light shivers through the procession. Her raven hair was pulled back in a tight bun, secured with metallic pins and sticks and beads the colours of which changed with the light of mid-morning. Indeed, the Queen was a beautiful woman, and was as kind as could be, but no one in the castle would ever wish to enrage her, for fear of a hidden temper.

Her son, Prince Reid, was a handsome 13-year-old boy, rather mature for his age. With looks uncanny to that of his father – soft-looking blond hair and severe cerulean blue eyes – he was very hard to ignore. Sonnet was surprised to find that he was not in the carriage with his parents, but walked alongside it, closer to the crowd. He strode past the peasants with a dull, uninterested smile upon his face, squinting in the bright sunlight, and as he entered the castle village he was immediately engulfed by a score of maids waiting to do his bidding.

Sonnet recalled one of the many conversations that had taken place in the servants' Common Area. Some of the Prince's private maids had told them of his intense dislike for anything less than perfect, and how he had, on more than one occasion, ordered a maid to be sent to the dungeons for minor mistakes. The common myth was that he often professed his loathing of maids and servants, and refused to be pampered by anyone but the High Maid, however no one was sure of the truth in this case, as it was the High Maid's job to work directly with and for the prince.

Sonnet had never believed those stories, preferring to think of them as untruths and exaggerations. It was quite common for women to gossip, and even more common for them to see anyone with power at hand as an enemy. She often wondered what the Prince was really like underneath the royal exterior; perhaps he was a gentleman, as beautiful inside as he was on the outside.

There was a surge of movement behind her, and Sonnet was pushed from behind, falling directly in front of His Royal Highness, Prince Hendell. The people around her gasped and shrank back, as if she had suddenly been diagnosed with an incurable and highly contagious disease.

Groaning as pain shot up her arms, she bent her head to avoid eye contact with the Prince, who had stopped walking. In her panic she noted that his shoes were of magnificent manufacture, seemingly made of only the finest leather, but the toes were covered in a thin crust of mucky ice and snow. The Prince himself, seemingly appalled at the transgression, looked down on her, his eyes smouldering with something close to revulsion.

After a moment, Sonnet tilted her head up and opened her mouth to plead with him – "I'm sorry Your Highness, my mind was elsewhere, I did not mean to trip, please forgive me." - But before the words could pass her lips, he grinned dangerously and stepped over her. In her panic, Sonnet noted that his cloak was similarly well-made, trimmed in thin golden ribbon and small metal studs. The maids followed him timidly - some pulling faces at her, some with looks of sympathy crossing their faces - and Sonnet was left watching them stride towards the castle, her eyes wide in bewilderment.

A young servant boy reached out to her, helping her up. "Don't worry, he's not as scary as he looks. I don't understand why he does that sometimes..." He whispered. Sonnet, her cheeks still flushed a deep rose, looked across at the boy. His dark eyes stared back, something very close to understanding in his expression.

"What do you mean?" She asked, her voice shaking as she wiped the dirt and ice from her palms and legs.

At that precise moment, the trumpets sounded again and the servants were herded back to the castle, and Sonnet lost sight of the boy.

When the carriage was pulled to a halt at the grand arched doors of the castle, the King and Queen disembarked and were escorted to the top of the steps. Prince Reid made haste to their side, and together they turned to look back at the crowd of anxious villagers and servants, who were chattering amongst themselves. The King stepped forward and lifted his arms to demand silence.

"My people! We bring news from Marwane!" He shouted. "My son, Prince Reid Hendell, and the Princess of Marwane, are set to be wed when she is of age!"

The crowd began to shout and argue, but the guards saw to it that they settled down. The King continued. "It is with great pleasure that I invite the Marwanes to a special Ball tonight in honour of our two families!" He cried as the swarm began to quarrel again. "Soon, our lands, and our peoples, will be united," he grinned, "and this is only the beginning."

Prince Reid strode through the palace's maze of corridors, following the train of material that issued from the back of his mother's dress. The incident that had occurred with the servant girl was from his mind already; he had other important things to think about.

With guards to either side of him, the Prince entered the Royal Dining Hall, a grand room at the centre of the castle, two storeys from the ground. It was furnished in lovely wooden chairs surrounding a giant table in the middle of the room, and the decorative carpets that lined the walls were the colours of Hendell, navy blue and crimson. He walked around the left hand side of the table and stood behind one of the tall-backed chairs, awaiting the maids to pull it out for him to sit in. Once he and the King and Queen were seated, the guards moved away to stand by the door and the maids disappeared from sight.

"Reid, what was that ruckus that you caused as we arrived?" Queen Lydia Hendell asked her son eagerly, her hands clasped on the tabletop.

Prince Reid shrugged, his intense blue eyes boring through the wall behind his mother's head, thinking. "Just some servant girl in the wrong place at the wrong time," he said, reaching across the table for a bread roll from the array of foodstuffs that had been laid out.

The King leant back in his chair and threw his muck-covered feet up onto the table. "Lydia, some of the younger maids aren't pulling their weight around the castle," he said to his wife, watching as his son nodded in agreement, "you need to have them trained some more."

"And how do you suggest I do that?" Queen Hendell sighed, giving him a slight look of disgust, hidden discreetly behind blank interest, "All of the senior maids are too busy planning this evening's feast, and they haven't the time to train them thoroughly," she explained.

"I have a suggestion," Prince Reid said, taking a bite from his roll.

The King smiled proudly. "Only thirteen and already contributing to the well-being of the castle!" He laughed, "what is your idea, son?"

"Have the younger servants help at the banquet. Maybe then they will learn respect, and the appropriate way to act among the noble. Have the senior maids in each area assign duties; that way they can aid them while still performing their own duties." He turned to his mother. "Have you noticed how inexperienced and clumsy our younger staff are? Like that servant this morning?" He put the roll back on the tray. "It's embarrassing," he spat, looking to his father for approval.

"Would you have her sent to the dungeons?" The King asked brusquely. "I will not have anyone in this castle embarrassing my son!" The Prince shook his head.

"I don't know the girl's name, and I can't recall her clothing or face. Besides, if the girl was to serve at the feast, maybe she would learn something from it, as would the other servants. Why waste a set of hands when they can be put to good use?"

"My boy, that is a fine idea," Leo agreed, and he turned to one of the guards. "Have the High Maid see to it that some of the younger maids attend the feast tonight. Be sure that she understands that they are not to interfere with the noblemen and women, and only to assist with the cooking, cleaning and serving, is that clear?" The guard nodded and turned to the doors, striding back down the flight of spiral stairs. When his footsteps had died away, the King smiled at Prince Reid. "Well done, lad. We'll see if this plan of yours works."

The feast was to be as grand as the King's crown. Every nobleman and -woman from near and far was to be there, and everything had to be perfect. It was not very often that the Royals held a banquet, and this seemed a great occasion to celebrate, as far as the castle staff were concerned.

For the people of Hendell, however, the news came much more grudgingly. They had been near warring stages with Marwane for as long as anyone could remember, and the sudden reality that they would be merging in ten years time made the public very angry indeed. After so many years of border incursions and the like, they were suddenly and violently aware that they would either have to accept the news or leave.

The younger servants in the castle, much to their disappointment, were informed of the changes in their schedule and told that they were to arrive at the Feasting Hall before midday to help with the cleaning of the room. Afterwards each maid was assigned a duty, depending on his or her age and abilities. Sonnet and one of the other girls were given the duty of handing out food and beverages during the night, which frightened Sonnet more than a little. What if she made another mistake? She did not like the thought of being sent into the dungeons.

So the High Maid showed the girls how to be polite and courteous, how to behave when they were in the company of a nobleman. News had spread about Sonnet's slip-up very quickly through the Servants' Quarters, and the High Maid had talked to her personally about her behaviour, though the elderly woman was less than stern, having taken a liking to Sonnet from the very first time they had met.

The hour came when the ball was to begin, and the girls changed into their long white dresses and bonnets. Their feet were bound in navy-blue fabric slippers, and Sonnet found the makeshift shoes uncomfortable compared to her usual boots.

As they were working so closely, Sonnet soon became friends with the other girl, who introduced herself as Nina. Nina was bubbly and talkative, seemingly as confident as Sonnet, with wide green eyes and curly brown hair. The two undertook their lessons together with great vigour, both eager to learn and understand.

"I wonder if there will be Wizards here tonight," Nina said distractedly when the lessons had come to an end. The two stood in the Common Area of the Servants' Quarters, listening to a group of older maids gossiping about how the night would be.

"I doubt you should worry about that sort of thing, Nina. I am sure Wizards are not as delightful as you would think. Besides, this feast is for dignitaries, not Wizards," Sonnet murmured back.

Nina frowned. She thought for a moment, and then sighed. "You're probably right. But I do wish one would turn up!" She said as they were excused from the Common Area. The High Maid emerged from her private room - which was adjacent to the Common Area - with the Servant Guard in tow, both of them attired in Hendell's colours. The older woman quickly caught up to Sonnet and Nina, bidding both the girls farewell and good luck as she and the dark Guard hurried out of the room ahead of them to meet the Prince. "Maybe, if one did, he would be able to get us out of trouble if we made a mistake," Nina continued once they were alone again. She seemed just as afraid that she would misstep as Sonnet herself was. "I know that we've been taught all of this great stuff about being polite to those of higher status," she whispered as they walked quickly through the corridors, past the many guards, towards the stairs that led to the Feasting Hall, "but I just can't get over the feeling that I'm going to mess up, like you did." The last few words made Sonnet scowl, and Nina continued hastily, "not that you meant to trip over, I understand how hard it must've been for you, standing right out the front for everyone to see. I stayed well back; I knew that up the front was not the right place for me."

"I didn't want to be up the front," Sonnet retorted. "Who would?"

"That's not what the other maids are saying," Nina argued loudly. "They say you have a crush on the Prince and –"

Sonnet gasped as she said the words. With panic coursing through her body she ran at Nina, pushing her around a corner and into the wall – hard - and using her free hand to cover the girl's mouth.

"Do you not realise that there are guards everywhere in this castle?" She panted, "by the Gods, If someone heard you say that -" She looked around to make certain no one was listening, and then lowered her voice "- If someone heard you say that, we would be in the dungeons before you could say 'Begging your pardon, My Lady'." She removed her hand from Nina's mouth, and, realising that the girl was crying, took a step back.

Nina touched the back of her head where Sonnet had pushed her into the wall. Her eyes filled up with more tears as she studied the sticky crimson blood that tipped her fingers and she ran down the corridor, out of sight, before Sonnet could call out to her.

By the time Sonnet reached the Feasting Hall, her name was already being spoken around the room. One of the guards walked briskly up to her, ignoring her cries of protest, and hoisted her up onto his shoulder, carrying her over to the Royal throne, where the King and Queen sat.

"Girl, who do you think you are, insulting me like that?" The King boomed, standing up and walking towards her. The guard dropped her and she fell to her knees, her hair falling over her face. "Aren't we a little troublemaker? You call me most unspeakable names, speak poorly of your superior High Maid, and then attack an innocent servant?"

Sonnet's stomach roiled. She could not believe what she was hearing; how could she be blamed for these things? Lifting her head, she looked at the King. "Your Majesty, I… I didn't… -" The King cut her off.

"Heathen! Do you not realise what tonight is? Do you not realise who you are addressing?"

"Your Majesty, I-"

"Do not speak to me in that manner, girl! Stand up, so I can see you properly!"

Sonnet complied. As she did so, she caught the eye of the Prince, who sat atop his small throne on the Royal Podium. For a moment his face was free of expression, as though he didn't know what to express. But then he smiled at her; a grim, wry smile, and it scared her. It was a smile she did not wish to see again.

The King walked up to her, studying her face, and then shook his head angrily. "We cannot have troublemakers serving at this feast. Guards, take her back to the Servants Quarters and make sure she stays there until we have decided what to do with her. Take the other girl there too." He spun on his heel and returned to his throne seat. The Queen turned to look at the King in disbelief, then watched helplessly as the guards grasped Sonnet's arms and dragged her away.

The guards threw her into the Common Area of the Servants' Quarters, and then left just as quickly. Sonnet did not move from where they had dropped her, merely sat there, her eyes glazed over. How could this have happened? She wondered to herself. She hadn't even made it to the Ball, and she had already signed her own death note.

A moment later, the men returned with Nina, placing her in the room beside Sonnet. She could hear Nina hiccoughing, crying, and a sense of rage came over her.

"What did you tell them?" She asked icily. Nina did not answer. "Nina, what did you tell them?" She turned to the other girl, but she had not moved. "I was trying to protect you!"

"You certainly went about it the right way!" Nina cried back sarcastically, holding a cloth to the back of her head. Sonnet saw it was covered in blood.

"What else was I supposed to do?" She asked loudly, rising to a shaky stand. She propped herself up with one of the nearby chairs. "You should have known not to say something like that in a public place!"

"And you should have known not to fall in love with the Prince!" Nina retorted.

Sonnet gaped. "Once again! How is it my fault that you have a big mouth?" She crept slowly over to the two doors that led from the Common Area – The High Maid's and the Servant Guard's quarters - and checked them to be certain that no one was listening. They were empty. "And what about those other horrible things? About the King, and the High Maid? Did you make them up also?"

Nina was looking at the ground. "They're going to hang us."

"You're not going to answer me then?" She scowled. "And you think we are going to be hanged? For what? Having a big mouth and a strong hand?" Sonnet replied wryly. She began to pace the room, wringing her hands nervously, while Nina remained seated on the cold stone floor. "You know, I am not in love with the Prince."

"Of course you're not. Not now. I think we can safely say that we both despise him," Nina said, wiping her eyes with her free hand. She checked the cloth, and then replaced it on her scalp. "Well, if they're not going to hang us, what do you think they'll do?"

Sonnet sighed. "My guess is that we're going to the dungeons. I am, at least. Treason, they call it, when you speak ill of the King." She fell silent and they could both hear the beginnings of the Feast upstairs. There was the sweet, melodic tune of the string orchestra that always played at royal gatherings, and the soft hum of scores of conversations all at once. Sonnet, exhausted all of a sudden, took a seat in one of the chairs surrounding the fireplace. "Let's hope they're having fun up there," she said sadly, "for I doubt we'll ever see the sky again."

Nina looked up at Sonnet thoughtfully for a moment, her green eyes flashing with obvious excitement. "Then let's run!"

"Run?" The other girl repeated, her brow furrowed.

"Run! Let's escape!" Nina hissed, trying to contain her enthusiasm. "I certainly do not want to stick around here, now that the Royals don't trust us. If our fate is sealed, and we're going to the dungeons, let us leave now, before we lose our chance."

"There are guards at the door."

Nina nodded and grinned. She held up the cloth. "The infirmary. Let's pretend we need to go to the infirmary to get a new cloth for my cut."

Sonnet looked apprehensive. "I don't know..."

"Come on, Sonnet!" Nina pleaded, standing and walking towards the door. "It's our last chance for freedom!"

Sonnet sighed. "Trust you to think of something like this, Big Mouth." She shook her head. "What if I say I do not want to go with you? You lied about me, after all." She watched as Nina's eyes filled up with tears, and then huffed in annoyance. "I don't know what you're getting us into, but it's got to be better than the dungeons."

"Exactly! Now let's go!" Nina grabbed Sonnet's arm and dragged her to the door, then released her, opening it and walking sheepishly out to the guards.

Putting on an innocent act, Nina bowed quickly. "Pardon me, sir?" She asked quietly, staring up, wide eyed, at one of the guards. The man looked down at her, frowning. "Can we please be excused for a moment?" She held up the blood-stained cloth, and slightly touched the back of her head. "I'm afraid I can't clean up the blood with this cloth. May we return it to the infirmary and collect a clean one?" She gave the guard a sweet look, and Sonnet grew nervous. What if they were found out?

"And why can't one of ye go?" He asked suspiciously.

"I've lost a lot of blood, sir, I might faint." Nina said quickly, "And she is... blind, in one eye, can't be by herself. She was in a... a very unfortunate accident when she was five."

The guard studied them for a moment, his eyes glazed over, and then he nodded begrudgingly. "To the infirmary and back, or the Prince'll 'ave me head. That's alright, aint it?" He turned to the other guard, who held a similar glazed expression.

"Go on then," the second guard said. Nina bowed gratefully and took Sonnet's hand, guiding her up the hallway towards the kitchens. Sonnet shuddered and bent close to the shorter girl.

"That poor man," she whispered. "What have we done?"

"We have done what we should have. We are saving our own skins, and if you don't like it, then go back to the Common Area. I am sure the filthy old men in the dungeons would love to let you stay with them! I'm not standing by and letting my fate be decided by the King."

"You're the one who got us into this to begin with!" Sonnet hissed. Nina just shook her head and kept walking, striding up to the infirmary doors and halting moments before entering them. She turned to make sure that the guards were not watching, and then sped down the hallway to the right, away from the infirmary. Sonnet pursued hastily, following her up the spiral staircase.

"Well, now that we're past them, how are we supposed to get out of here? The only door outside is through the Feasting Hall!"

"You forget, Sonnet, that we are servants. There is another way out," Nina said softly. They reached the end of the staircase and pushed open the heavy trap door, which was usually held open but was closed for the feast. They were now in a large circular room, used for storing food on nights when there was a ball or function being held. There were boxes and crates piled high around the room, and the only visible spaces on the walls were two doors. Nina turned to the one on the right, pushing it open a crack and peering outside. Sonnet grew nervous again as Nina turned back to her and nodded. "Once we get out of this room, we need to run, alright? Turn to the right, away from the Feasting Hall, and run."

"Where will we go?" Sonnet whispered.

Nina's eyes flashed a clear emerald. "I don't know. Away from here." She ran a hand through her tangled, blood-covered locks of hair, thinking. "What if we take off our bonnets and shoes?"

Sonnet nodded. "Gladly. This material is suffocating my feet." She bent down and began to unwrap the thick bindings while Nina took off her own bonnet.

"Hopefully we can reach the outer village by midnight," Nina commented strangely, dropping her head-dress into one of the open boxes beside her head and signalling Sonnet to do the same. "If we can, there is someone we can meet; he can help us. Just stay close to me and we can disappear together."

In a moment, they were barefoot and their bonnets were well hidden in the mess around them. Nina turned back to the door and checked that it was clear, then opened it fully and stepped into the dark moonlight.

"Run, Sonnet!"

The feast was nearly spilling out into the castle grounds by the time the Queen received word of the Marwanes' readiness to appear at the banquet. Many dignitaries had begun the evening festivities a little early and were already staggering from the beverages being served by the younger maids. But the best of the night was still to come, the King told his wife as he sat atop his gem-encrusted throne, his best velvet cape draped over his shoulder and his grand crown atop his blond-grey curls of hair. He looked rather impressive, and yet the Queen just nodded respectfully and returned to her own throne.

Prince Reid sat near his father on the Royal Podium at the very top of the Feasting Hall. He drummed his fingertips on the table before him, apparently uninterested in anything that was happening in the room. Queen Hendell sat beside him, watching the gathering dignitaries as they exchanged greetings in the main hall area. She smiled sadly. The Marwanes would enter soon, and her son and the Princess would be greeting each other much the same when that happened.

The Prince sighed. He had had enough of this already. "Mother, I'm going for a walk." He said, rising from his seat. The Queen hesitated for a moment, and then nodded.

"Alright, but do not be too long, dear. There will be many more guests arriving who wish to meet with you," she said. Reid bade her farewell, and then walked around the table, past the throng of people. He caught the eye of one of his servants, a brown haired, brown-eyed boy a year younger than himself, and shared a sympathetic glance with him before striding through the large oak doors that led outside.

With a deep breath, he began to walk, in no particular direction. He knew much of the plans his father had for him, and he wanted no part in it, even if it would ensure Hendell's place in the world. He was not ready for a girl, let alone a fiancé. He had met the Princess but once in their entire time in Marwane, and he did not think he wanted to see her any more than that; she was perfect, and beautiful, and utterly emotionless.

He passed the door-men with a nod and turned right, running a hand across the grey stones of the castle wall, listening to the soft, harmonic hum of the string orchestra that sat on a podium on the inside of the wall. When he turned the corner, there was no noise at all, and he let the sense of stillness fill him.

It was then, in the hush, that he heard the footsteps. He whirled around, searching through the darkness for the source of the noise. And then he saw it; two people, dressed in white, running away from the castle. For a moment he stood there watching, and then his mind took over.

"Guards!" He cried, chasing after the girls.

He recalled the two girls his father had sent to the Servants' Common Area to await judgement for their misbehaviour and ran faster; they were trying to escape! Such a pitiful attempt – they would not have been punished, if they had stayed. His mother had insisted that they merely give the girls a thorough lecture.

"Guards!" He caught up to one of the girls and grabbed her arm, pulling her to the ground. She cried out in pain as he held her stationary. "Get the other one!" He exclaimed.

"Get off me!" The girl he held cried, and he turned his attention to her. She had brown hair and green eyes that were wild with fury.

It was the girl who had tripped over when they had arrived in the castle.

Sonnet hadn't realised who held her. She thrashed around, trying to break free, before turning to her assailant and gasping. She could tell it was the Prince, even in the half-light from the now wide-open Feasting Hall doors. He was grinning again, and instead of a tingling in her stomach at the sight of him and the feeling of him so close to her, she felt sick. Why had he not let them escape? He knew what would happen to them if they were caught; did he have no heart at all? She heard a distant scream and the sound of the guards dragging Nina across the ground towards the castle.

"It looks like you two won't be getting away after all." The Prince said softly, grasping her wrist and shoving her into the arms of a passing guard. "Take these girls to the dungeons, now."

As Sonnet was dragged away, she heard Nina cry out in desperation, "You can't do this! I did what I was told! He told me I would be safe!"

The Prince made his way back into the Feasting Hall, his head swimming with power. It was something he had not felt before, and he did not like it.

The King watched him as he sat back down in his throne. "Get ready, son, your future Queen is about to arrive," he said gruffly. "This is the beginning of the rest of your life."

"Brilliant," the Prince said sardonically under his breath. "Let's get this over with, shall we?"