Summary: When James Potter, heir to the kingdom of Abrian, awakes fair princess Lillian Evans from a hundred-year sleep, the people of Abrian are prepared to hold festivals on the streets. But no one counted on Miss Evans refusing the prince's advances…


Prologue

One last ray of sunlight peaked through the dusty window of the tower as the sun retreated towards the horizon, and James Potter stopped to appreciate the scene for a moment. Everything in the room was covered in dust - the wardrobe, the nightstand, and the bed - enough dust that he'd left footprints on the floor from where he'd disturbed it. He'd sneezed twelve times in a row upon entering the castle, so he'd taken to breathing through his red silk monogrammed handkerchief as he walked purposefully to the tallest tower in the castle. He removed the handkerchief from his nose now and shoved it in a pocket, moving in towards the reward of his efforts.

She lay motionless on the bed, her scarlet hair in soft curls as though she'd arranged it that way in the morning, instead of a century ago. James recognized the porcelain skin, snub nose, and slightly parted red lips from in image he'd seen in a Pensieve a year ago – the hundred-year-old memories of a gardener who worked in the castle before the princess had fallen into her slumber. He'd watched her in that Pensieve a thousand times as she helped the gardener tend the rose bushes, adored the way her eyebrows knit together as she tied each vine to the trellis and winced as she bloodied her hands on the cruel thorns. His friends told him he was obsessive, but he was inexplainably infatuated with the princess. It had taken him a year to locate the girl from the legends, and now she lay in front of him, flesh and blood.

Loud footsteps coming down the hall drew him out of his thoughts and he looked up to see Sirius Black, his closest friend, standing impatiently in the doorway. "I'm giving you ten minutes, James. Ten minutes, or I'm taking the magic carpet home without you."

James sighed in irritation. Best friend or not, Sirius had no sense of romance. But he nodded anyway and turned back towards the girl on the bed. Her ruby lips seemed to beckon his, and he knelt down beside the bed. Very slowly, he brought his lips closer and closer to hers, stopping fractions of an inch before they met. He savored her sweet, warm breath for a moment, visualizing her expression of gratitudewhen she discovered that he was the one to wake her, to break the wicked spell…

"Will you hurry up!" Sirius exclaimed from the doorway, crossing his arms inpatiently. Startled, James jumped and his lips brushed hers in the tiniest of touches. She began to stir, and James turned towards Sirius irritably.

"Dammit Sirius, you cheated me out of my kiss!"

Sirius shrugged unconcernedly. "She was going to sleep another century at the rate you were going."

But James hardly heard his friend. He found himself holding his breath as she stretched and very slowly opened her eyes. When she'd focused a bewildered gaze on him, he smiled confidently. "Good evening, Lillian. I'm James William Claude Alexander Damien Henry Potter, Crown Prince of Abrian, but you can call me James of you like. And this," he gestured to Sirius, "is-"

But he cut off abruptly when she pointed her dusty wand at him assertively. "You can call me Miss Evans. Now get the bloody hell out of my room!"