CHAPTER SEVEN

For a little moment, Flynn walked away from me. He stated he wanted to get something, probably clothes, because the way he looked at me before indicated that he didn't like what I was wearing or that my clothes irritated him in some manner.

Despite the fact that the darkness feels as if it is devouring my entire being, I wait. I don't like being alone in a strange environment. Instead, I should have gone with Flynn, but I declined because my body hurts from the fall I took earlier.

I scan the horizon of the town, which is obscured by the forest. The flickering lights and distant noises give me the feeling that the town is just as vibrant as ours is otherwise. I despise that I'm beginning to understand what Flynn meant when he claimed Canmore and Cromwells are so dissimilar.

When I hear a shuffling, my senses go into overdrive, and I rapidly rise to make a move, despite the fact that I know I lack the strength to spar.

When I see who emerges from the shadow, my hands unclench. The moonlight quickly turns Flynn's face silver, making him quite attractive. I'm instantly taken away from what he's carrying. A familiar piece of clothing crumpled from his grip. 

He holds out his hands to me. 

“Here.”

I obtain it from him, though I am perplexed as to why I would require a servant costume. This is what our servants wear inside the Palace, so I know.

“Where did you get this?”

He shrugs. “I have my friend here who used to be a servant in the palace. I borrowed from her.”

I eye him, confused. “Used to be? Now, she's not?”

“Yes. She wants to focus on her child. What of it?”

“I thought servants of the Palace are not allowed to withdraw from their service once they started working on the Palace?”

He smiles a little. “That rule is certainly your Kingdom’s not ours.”

I avoid his gaze when I realize his point. I hate that Cromwell is making such a good impression to me this quick. It shouldn't be. I hate this Kingdom, still. 

“I told you, Kingdom of Larimar is different. Cromwells rule different here.”

“So, what do we do with this clothes?” I ask trying to change the subject. 

“You have to wear it.”

“What? You mean, I have to change clothes?” 

Good thing, I am not quite visible upon his sight because of the trees’ shadow. I’m certain I’m going red. 

“Certainly. The people inside the palace care nothing of the servants or what they look like, they are just expecting you to be there once they need of services.”

I nod. At least, royalties here treat their servants the same as how we treat ours. It'd be so much shame for me if they treat their servants someone who are not beneath their status. Someone equal. 

“I should not explain this to you, you are a servant yourself.”

I squirm. How can I ever forget that Flynn still regards me as a Palace servant? I really need to stop acting like a brat. I'll never forget how he commented on my skin's condition and how different it was from that of the other servants. It won't be long until he figures out what's going on behind my mask.

“Yes. But you said it yourself, your Kingdom is different from mine. Few details won't hurt.”

He nods. “As what I’m saying, you can sneak inside while wearing a servant uniform, they won't notice you, they won't even take a second glance as long as you don't mess this up.”

“I’m a servant. I know how to act like one,” I said but I realize it comes out defensively. 

“Of course,” Flynn looks at me for a moment before shifting his eyes to the town ahead of us. “The ball will start in a few minutes. I will usher you in front of the palace but I can't go beyond that.”

“What do you mean? You won't come with me inside?”

My panic rise from within. I doubt I could even cross the border without his help and now he's leaving me alone at the Palace?

“I have to find a way to sneak inside. I can't disguise as a guard. There are few guards in the palace and all of them have known each other for years. I will get caught.”

I suck a breath and sigh. “Alright...”

He steps forward and taps my head which earns a blush on my cheeks. That is an unexpected gesture but I love it. 

“Don’t worry. I will meet you inside.”

I look at him and smile. He seems startled. But I never stop, anyway. 

“You better...” 

***

Flynn kept his word and left me alone in front of the Palace. I just arrived here, yet I'm still standing. I'm also uncomfortable in my outfit, but I keep quiet about it. People are congregating in front of the Palace, most likely anticipating the start of the ball. I'm not entirely sure. The castle is being guarded by vanguards. As I gaze upon their magnificent castle, the Palace of Cromwells, I catch my breath.

Four slim, square towers are strewn about in an apparently random configuration, yet they were built for optimal protection and are joined by massive, light brown stone walls. Modest apertures, as well as drooping crenelations for archers and cannon, are strewn sparsely around the exterior in rather similar patterns. The residents of this island castle are guarded by a reasonable gate with big wooden doors and heated oil pots, and it is the only way through, at least without tearing down the outer walls. A couple of waterfalls pour into several minor streams, providing much-needed water to the castle's valuable agriculture lands.

This castle appears to be brand new, but without learning its heritage, it's impossible to say whether it's a recently constructed or well-maintained structure.

“Hurry! Hurry!”

My gaze shifts to the line of slaves wearing the same uniform as mine as they enter the side gate one by one. To get to them, I hurriedly pushed my way through the mob. I am thankful when I am able to enter without any foot-dragging. 

I keep up with the servants in front of me. They bow their heads, and as I remember what Flynn said, I do the same. If I don't make a mistake, it should be simple to get in. He believes I won't make a mistake because I am a servant who knows how to behave. He had no idea that during my peak years, I was a spoiled princess till my father died.

We make our way down the dimly lit lane. The massive walls of the castle muffle the voices from the outside.

We enter the hall, which is crowded with servants going from one location to the next. I'm at a loss on what to do. The servants I'm following appear to know what else has to be done. I'm completely lost.

“Where is the cupbearer?!” I hear someone said. 

I follow the voice and approach her. 

“Here!” I say raising my hand. 

“Come over here, you peasant!” 

I had to take a step back to keep my balance after she shoved a platter of cups to my chest.

“Deliver these up there, at once! Other Courts are to arrive in a moment. We can't let down Your Highness and certainly not the Charlemagnes!”

“I understand,” I bow a little. 

“Hurry up!”

I turn around and squeeze my way between the throngs of slaves whizzing by. Others are taking a powder from the hall, and I am following them. Because I'm fumbling through the dark passage between the castle walls toward the courtyard entrance, I'm straining to keep the drinks at bay.

When my chances of getting inside began to increase, a majordomo stepped in front of me and took the tray from my hold.

“Get another one!” she bays.

My lips tremble, but I don't utter anything else. I quickly turn around and return to my trail. I'm so upset that I don't think I'll be able to get into the ball, let alone sneak in. Guards and slaves are strewn about, and a majordomo guards the door where I can freely enter and exit. If I act contrary to what servants are meant to do, I will get detected.

I lose sight of my surroundings, forcing my body to collide with what appears to be a wall. I swiftly raise my eyes to discover a fantastic glimpse of a stunning creature.

“I’m sorry—

I look down at what he's dressed in. He's dressed in slacks, leggings, cloaks, and a tunic. The tunic, as the outermost garment, was embellished with gold laces, embroidery, and other details. Only nobility are allowed to wear it. Unless—

My eyes dilate and my body act on instinct. I bow my head a little. 

“Oh, hell. I’m sorry, Your Highness...” I bite my lip when I track back of what I just said. “No. I said that wrong. Please, spare my blasphemes, Your Highness.”

When I glance at him, he seems impassive. I can't tell if he's upset or he just doesn't care.

“It is by no means a worrisome,” his voice icy cold. 

I immediately recall how much this type of voice used to terrify me. It's terrifyingly familiar. I can't possibly be mistaken. This is the voice of a Winter Court resident.

I keep an eye on him. I'm sure he's a noble based on how he stands and what he wears, but I'm interested about his title. Is he a Prince or not?

He's also without a doubt from Winter Court. With his tousled white hair, he appears to have never been so well prepared for the ball. His eyes are the color of the sea, and he has a strong jawline that is accentuated by his fine, yet masculine lips. He also has sharp cheeks and a restrained chill in his stare.

“How can I help you, Your Highness?” I manage to ask although his mere presence already discomforts me. 

“I am merely looking for the palace’s garden.”

“Pardon, Your Highness?” I blink. “But the ball is soon to start, it would be a shame to start it without your presence.”

His jaw clenches. I can't stop staring at its muscles move. I'm suddenly embarrassed that I'm watching too much. I've never seen anyone so beautiful... especially not from a Court I despise.

Do Nobles possess the same beauty as his?

“It is fine. My Father is there for them to notice my absence,” he say that in a cold way but I can almost taste the bitterness.

“Are you certain, Your Highness?” I ask. “Is your presence not needed at the Ball? As far as I know, you will be selecting your consort among the ladies tonight.”

He looks at me. I feel terrible right away. That's why I've never liked Winter Court. They seem to be insulting you from within by the way they treat you and look at you. As if they were in charge of the entire Four Courts.

Which is virtually accurate, for they are the most powerful of the Four Courts.

“Are Cromwell Palace’s servants like you?”

“Whatever do you mean, Your Highness?”

“Intrusive.”

I grit my teeth and bow. “I apologize for prying, Your Highness. I am anything but worried of your safety. You are a Noble. It’d be a shame not to get you safe over the Cromwell palace.”

“I can handle myself just fine.”

I have a look around. As much as I dislike being around someone who can make me feel so uneasy. Maybe I'll be able to use him to get into the ball.

“Perhaps, if you might, I can go with you. Do you know which way to the garden?” I ask. 

He cocks his head sideways. “I am expecting you know of it since you are a servant here.”

I bite my tongue inside my mouth. How can I be so stupid?

“O-Of course.”

He points a particular direction through his head. “Lead the way, then...”

I make clumsy movements. It's much more unsettling that a Noble is following me. I'm aware of how my back appears from his vantage point. Also, I have no knowledge of the Cromwell Palace, let alone the site of their garden.

“Are you certain we are walking the right way?”

“Of course, Your Highness.”

Obviously not. Are you an idiot? I have no idea where we're going on this walk. I just go with my gut, as if I know exactly where I'm going. But seriously, the longer we walk, the less convinced he becomes that I work here.

“Do you even know where is the garden?”

“How can I not?” I say.

He's not facing me, which is a good thing because he'd realize from my expression that we're both on the wrong track.

“It feels like we're walking in circles.”

Because we are really walking in circles. I don't even know where part of the Palace are we now. 

“May I ask what will you do at the garden, Your Highness?” I open up a question so he'd stop asking. 

“I need a fresh air and I want to see the darkness.”

“The what?” my brows knot.

“Darkness. It makes me feel at ease.”

Is it because the sun doesn't shine on their court and all they see is frost that they want to remain in the dark? Because that's the only thing they have seen?

“Winter Court is seriously odd,” I whisper.

“You think so?”

My pupils dilate. I turn around to face him. I don't want him to hear what I'm saying. I had no idea I had spoken it out loud.

“I am not saying that in a bad way—

His lips twitch  “Of course, you're not. You know nothing about Winter Court, anyway.”

I shrug. “I know enough.”

I believe it is foolish to make reparations, so I turn around and continue walking. I'm surprised to see the location we're looking for ahead of us. If that's the case, I believe I owe this one to Fate.

“Here we are. I told you, I know the way,” I smile as I open the gateway.

“It takes forever for you to find the right way, huh?”

I ignore him and watch the beautiful place I accidentally find. 

One of the most gorgeous spots in the planet was on the other side of the massive, heavy pair of copper bars. The mix of various wonderful fragrances emanating from the various species of scrumptious florals that carpet the lawns permeates your airways with just one stride through the threshold. The countless blooms were arranged in a series of circular pattern commencing from the focal place. The transitions among each shades mirrored all of the rainbow's spectrum, first from brightest yellows to the palest blues.

I can't stop me from gasping. The beauty is too much to handle. Especially with the moon in the sky. It can be seen from here.

When I look at him, he's staring at the moon. It's as if it's soothing him in a way only he understands.

Is this the reason? Isn't the darkness the one he wants to see? It's the moon, of course. Because the moon, like the sun, is invisible to their Court.

“I didn't know Cromwell Palace have this beautiful garden,” he says and looks at me. 

I avoid his gaze and look down on the flowers. “Summer Court possesses all kinds of beautiful floras, Your Highness.”

“Oh? Canmore Palace have this, too?”

I wince upon mentioning the Kingdom I come from. 

“I... I know nothing of the sort for I have never been gone to their Palace but I’m certain Summer Court is known for its abundance of flowers.”

Although our garden had been closed as per Tremain’s command. 

“Why did I ever ask? It's not like servants are permitted to go out of the palace once in a while. Am I right?”

“Certainly, Your Highness.”

He doesn't say anything else and simply enjoys the sight in front of him. Despite the fact that I am enjoying the good sight on his face right now, I must never forget why I am here.

“Your Highness, I...” I swallow a lump on my throat. “I just wanted to ask if do you have a consort in mind. Among the ladies at the ball, does anyone there catch your attention?”

Inside, my heart thumps. I don't expect him to respond right away. I'm sure it's strange for him that I speak to him in this manner.

“I have someone in mind,” he answers. 

“Oh,” I look ahead. 

I'm not sure why I was expecting anything different. I should have known that someone as attractive as him, with his rank over his head, would entice every lady in Four Courts.

“I don't have much of a choice. My Father chose her for me. I am here merely for professionalism and for the other ladies who think it'd be unfair that I have someone in mind ahead of the ball.”

“Well... they will be disappointed.”

I hate that I am included when I said “they”

“Why is it so?”

“I bet all the ladies tonight want to be your consort. That's too bad you have someone in mind.”

“I will repeat myself, it is hardly my choice. Father chose her for me.”

My forehead crease. “Why would you let your Father decide your future? Isn't it enough that you call it yours because it's yours and not somebody else's?”

He remain impassive. “He knows what's the best for the Kingdom.”

“I’m not talking about the Kingdom. I am talking about you. Why would you let someone determine your future?”

His gaze lingers to me in a very hard way. As if I offend him in anyway. 

“Perhaps, you know nothing of my duty. You're just a servant, after all.”

I can't help but to snort. “Perhaps, you're just like me, the only difference is that you have a title and I have none. At least, I have dignity.”

His jaw clenches. “I beg your pardon. You're losing your respect. You are merely a servant.”

“How does that being different from you? You're a servant of your Father, too.”

“How can be such a peasant like you have that kind of tongue? You are spilling foolishness.”

I look at him sarcastically. “Oh, forgive me, Your Highness but maybe it is triggered by your lack of dignity and aplomb.”

“Are you really a servant?” 

“Why did you consider otherwise?”

“You talk to me like I’m not a Prince. I’m soon-to-be King of Kingdom of Turquoise. I am from the Palace of Charlemagnes,” he says with a pride. 

I freeze. I blink a couple of times. Did I hear him right? 

“Charlemagnes?” I gasp. He's the heir of the throne, isn't he?

“Oh, yes—

“Are you going to marry Tremaine from the Palace of Canmore?” I ask, already panicking. 

“How did you—

My lips twitch, so upset. “You are kidding me. You are marrying her? She's whom your Father wants to be your consort?”

“Yes—

“Are you stupid?”

“I am not, Miss. You are—

“No. You really are. Tremaine had a husband.”

He glares. “I know of that. The King of the Kingdom of Ruby. But he's deceased, isn't he?”

“And so, what if he's deceased? He recently demised. And now, you're marrying her?”

“I scarcely think it is your business. Why are you making it sound like an insult?”

“Because it is! You can marry anyone but not her.”

His expression became somber. For a brief minute, I was afraid he was going to smack the living daylights out of me. It must have seemed strange to say these things to him, but I don't have a choice. He'll never be able to marry Tremaine! What a fool I was not to inquire about his consort immediately once!

“I will spare you of not addressing her as someone you should be talking about with respect.”

“She deserves nothing of the sort.”

His face darkens I’m scared the whole garden will do the same, too. 

“That is treason. It is not allowed upon my presence.”

“Oh, hell. I don't care.”

“Well, you should be.”

I shake my head and hold both of his shoulders. He startles but he stays on his place, anyway. 

“She is a threat.”

“How can you say so? Do you have anything that will vouch for what your foul mouth is spilling?”

“I don't have—

He looks disappointed. He steps back and shrug my hands off him. 

“Very well, Miss. I don't have time for your stupid assumption. Forgive me but I think I need to go back at the ball for I consider being there is better than being here with someone who lacks respect to someone above her.”

Oh, the devil. I made a big deal out of insulting him. But everything I'm saying is true. I'm not sure how to back up my comments, but isn't it enough that Tremaine was so open about the partnership when the Four Courts stood up for all those years and there was no ceasefire?

Perhaps they believe it is for the best. Tremaine is their only hope of reuniting the Four Courts. That, however, is absurd. Tremaine isn't the hero they expected, a savior from the lengthy struggle for dominance; there's more to her plan than meets the eye.

As he walks out the door, I keep an eye on him. I'm sad that he doesn't believe me, or at the very least that Tremaine is a threat. Is he truly that desperate for the throne? Is he comfortable with Tremaine marrying him?

I feel awful for slamming his job title in front of him, but it's too late. He's no longer here. And he's probably dancing in front of everyone with Tremaine.

This is making me feel nauseous.

I don't stay long in the garden; I leave as soon as I hear a loud reverberation of the bell from one corner of the palace pass to the other. The start of the Ball has been signaled.

It's difficult to go through a dark alley with a heavy foot. I've been debating whether I should stick to my plan now that I've failed to persuade the Prince not to marry Tremaine, or whether I should go because it would cause me sleepless nights.

As I walk, I see Flynn running down the hall with a portmanteau.

“Where have you been? And what's that?” I approach him. 

He looks startled, as though he hadn't seen me before. When he learns it's only me, he relaxes. He grins as he looks down on what he's carrying.

“Something.”

“I know that is something. I'm asking what is that? Why are you carrying it?” I ask. 

He doesn't answer but his grin widens. I suddenly feel so stupid not to realize it sooner. 

“Oh, god. Are you really stealing?”

He shrugs. “Of course, Sol. It is my nature to steal. And how can I not? I’m already inside the place where all things have great prices.”

I look at him for a moment. He helped me cross the border, he helped me sneak in here. He only wants to steal... a little. I can help him by closing my mouth shut. 

“Fine. The ball is starting. We have to sneak inside or we can watch it from afar instead. I need to see it.”

He nods. “Come here. I know a place.”

I try to keep up with him. We've already gotten this far, and I'm beginning to trust his ability to sneak about. I'm delighted he's the one I'm currently with.

We reach the deck, where the Ball can be seen from below. Because the ball has already started, there are no visitors standing here.

“This will do?”

“Yes. Thank you,” I say while wandering my eyes. 

Tremaine and her girls are seated at a big table. The King of the Palace of Charlemagnes is in the far corner, or so I assume because he looks like the Prince I saw earlier.

And speaking of the devil, he's right across the street from Tremaine's house. They're conversing, with Tremaine clearly doing the majority of the talking while the Prince keeps silent. Now that Tremain is in front of him, I'm interested if he's given any thought to what I said.

I'm not familiar with the other guests. Other Courts, I recall, are present, so I assume all Royalties are present, with the exception of the Chudleighs, who, according to Tremaine, denied her invitation.

“Who are you looking for?”

When the music starts, I ignore Flynn's question. Tremaine and her daughters join in the giggling and gathering of the ladies, while the Princes appear apprehensive. I'm concentrating on the Prince of Charlemagnes' future maneuvers. I see him conversing with his Father, who appears to be reprimanding him.

When he stands up and walks in the direction of Tremaine, I take a deep breath. I'm sure he'll ask for her hand in marriage.

Something has to be done.

“No, no, no...” I face Flynn who is, surprisingly, looking at me. “We have to stop them.”

“What?”

“The engagement! We have to stop it!” I look again. 

“I don't understand. But, sure. What do we do?”

“I don't know! Make a scene or something! We have to stop the engagement at once!”

He looks at me for a moment then sigh. 

“I have something in mind but it requires a leap of faith.”

“To you?”

“Yes. To me.”

I swallow. “Okay...”

He nods and walks away for a few moments. He already has a rope when he returns.

“Where did you even find this?”

“Stop asking. Hold onto me. And hold this, too...” he hands me his portmanteau. 

“Do we really have to—

“Yes.”

I hesitate, but I understand. He ties the rope around the terrace's rung. I double-check it when he's finished to make sure it's solid. 

“How do you want me to carry you?”

My eyes dilate. “Carry me?”

“Or you can—

“Whatever do you want. I’m afraid of heights.”

“Oh, okay,” he gets the rope and ties it to form a loop. “Step your foot here.”

I follow his instructions. He gets on board. Our feet are such perfect match for the loop. I breathe as my hands tighten around the rope. As I know what we're about to do, I press his portmanteau further to my chest. 

“When we are closer to the window, kick it hard. So hard that it'd break. Otherwise, we're dead.”

“I understand.”

When I look down, I notice Tremaine and the Prince are already dancing together for the first time. Guests are enthralled by their presence. He's going to marry Tremaine for real. He doesn't even have any hesitations on his face.

“Okay. Now, close you eyes and take a deep breath. Hold me tightly, Princess. We'll make a beautiful scene.”

And before I realized it, Flynn had pushed our bodies together. As we soar through the air, my stomach sinks. I hear gasps, but I close my eyes because I'm worried this will go wrong. When we ride the rope, though, I open them as soon as I feel the sharp blow of the air. The wind blows the blanket over my head, forcing my long blonde hair to flow through the air. My pupils dilate. The grip Flynn has on my waist tightens.

I catch a glimpse of the Prince down below. This is the first time I've seen him express emotions, but I'm unable to decipher them. I'm not going to look at Tremaine while he stands alongside him. The guests' mouths are hanging wide as a result of our intrusion. And before we could even kick the window broken, one pair of my boots falls to the ground.