Prince Nathan stood stiffly at his post, high above the ground in a tower that over looked the majority of the palace. His eyes scanned the distant horizon, guarding the farthest shadow of his home planet with a determined energy that only someone who was both Prince and General could muster. With his spear clutched close to his chest - the pointed end facing behind him for safety - he stalked around in a tight circle, the small space of this tower making him ever more nervous.

Should he be up here, guarding the farthest reaches of Melody armed with only a spear and his wits to defend him if some foe were to drop into the palace unexpectedly? Or should he be below, safely within said palace, surrounded by protective walls and a dozen guards, holding his wife's hand as they sat around a warm fireplace and felt their beloved unborn child? The thought alone made him smile warmly despite the freezing wind that constantly blasted his face. Winter often brought snow to Melody, but rarely did the wind get this cold. His nose was blood red from the numbing sensation, and longed to go back to his bedchambers.

To say he was nervous was an understatement. Nathan had long since loved his wife - they had been friends since before her sister ascended the throne of Melody when he had been eight years old. Being the son of the highest officer in Melody meant he was more than worthy to ask for one of the King's daughters as his wife. Many had thought that he would chose the elder of the two - Harmonia. But once she had taken the throne, Nathan found that he was set on her younger sister, and soon became her husband and her Prince. They were meant for each other.

Now he stood placidly up in his tower, imagining all of the wonderful activities he could perform once the child was born. He personally hoped for a daughter, so that he might find the same joy in her as he did his wife. He imagined the silky hair of his wife, while the child developed the red eyes of himself. The genes would mix perfectly, and the baby would be his to love forever.

They would be a true family at last.

The sun dropped ever lower toward the ground, turning day into night within a span of a few seconds. Nathan allowed himself a small smile as his shift of guard duty ended. It was time to return being a prince - as one could only hold one position at a time. He lowered his spear - holding the simple weapon in the same position for five hours weighed heavily on his arms - and trudged toward the stairwell that would bring him from his tower and into the palace, where his wife would be waiting with their tea.

He relished the thought of a nice dinner, and then cuddling together with her as soon as they finished. The servants would take care of the evening chores - they always did, despite Nathan being raised as a gentleman, and therefore ready to clean up if it let his pregnant wife rest. After those chores, he would quickly go down to the stables to feed his horse, Justice - which was a chore he had strictly forbidden the servants from performing. Justice was his horse and he alone would take care of him. Their bond ran deep enough for Nathan to tell Justice to refuse food not brought by him. Soon, Nathan didn't need to tell him. Justice would not eat any food brought by servants.

As he descended the wooden stairs toward his chambers, however, Nathan was forced to pause as a lower-ranked guard rushed to meet him. Judging by the horrified glint in those violet eyes, the Prince could probably guess what was happening. Despite the many thoughts as to why the soldier came running to meet him, Nathan forced himself calm and waited for the guard to compose himself.

Reaching a hand to steady the soldier, Nathan met his violet gaze with his own red one. "What is it, sergeant?"

"Your wife, my general." The sergeant stuttered, his eyes watering with unwashed tears. "She's in labor. But sir," his bright eyes darted to the doorway he had come from. "Something has gone terribly wrong! There's too much blood!"

That was all the encouragement Nathan needed to sprint the last twelve steps and enter the castle. He raced past guards and abandoned his spear near the door, where some other guard or a servant would take care of it. Doctors rushed around him, but the prince took little to no notice of them. His only concern was his wife and their child. If something was wrong, he needed to be there. It was his duty as both husband and father.

Finally, their shared bedchambers came into view. Nathan paused at the beautiful oak door, his hand reaching out to grip the doorknob and enter. Once he felt the cool metal under his hand, however, he paused. His eyes widened.

A scream emitted from the room, and Nathan's heart shattered at the sound of his wife in pain. He turned to the nearest doctor. "What's happening?" The question held a desperate note to it - one that caused his voice to break as he spoke. He swallowed the lump in his throat and waited for an answer. Perhaps it was an overreaction. Perhaps his wife was just fine.

"The princess is losing too much blood." The doctor said solemnly, shattering that little hope Nathan had. The man's voice was calm, but his expression, however, held panic. "The baby came too early, and the princess's blood has no time to regenerate the amount she's losing."

Nathan moved toward the door, but two nurses stopped him. "We apologize, Prince." The female nurse said. "You can't enter the bedchambers. Not yet."

"I have to see her!" Nathan cried, but the male nurse pushed him away. Quite forcefully, he might add.

"You may not enter until the labor process is complete." He said quietly. The shared glance he performed with the female told Nathan that they weren't too sure that was a promise to be fulfilled this time. Was it truly that bad? He had to get in, but the female shook her head. At this, Nathan growled angrily, ready to burst through the door anyway, when yet another doctor exited the room. The somber expression in his dull green eyes told Nathan everything he needed to know.

No. It couldn't be true.

Wordlessly, the prince pushed by the doctor and entered the bedchambers of his own accord. The room smelled like sanitizer - a doctor's office. He no longer recognized the warm scent of the roses that grew on the pillars near their bed. They were there - he could see them growing near the foot of the bed, thorns sharp and petals the color of blood.

The candles that were always lit had gone out in the rush to help the Princess give birth. Not a spark remained of the flames, and the scent of the cherry blossoms was gone from the air completely.

To Nathan, the air felt cold. The scents, the feeling, were all gone. Sure it looked the same. But it felt odd. Off, somehow.

How terrible it felt to not recognize his own bedchambers.

Then, he turned to the king-sized bed to find his wife - the woman he loved more than anything in the world - laying down. She was very pale, and her long black hair hung loosely over the side of the mattress, touching the floor. The green eyes he knew so well were closed, and her hands were folded over her stomach. She wore a pale purple nightgown, laced with dark gray on the sleeves. Her lips were pressed in a thin, straight line. She looked to be in a peaceful slumber.

But, as he approached her slowly, Nathan saw that she was not sleeping. Not at all.

He saw something off about the way she was laying. Her head was a bit too tilted, and her skin was a smidgen too pale. Her hair - the hair she always kept tightly tied back into a braid - was too dull. Normally it shimmered in the light. Now it looked like tar. And her dress. The bottom of her dress was soaked with a red liquid - one he recognized as soon as he came within touching distance. The metallic smell of blood flooded his nostrils, and he should know. He had seen war. He had watched death take over the body of soldiers he had called friends and foes.

Nathan let his horror out, and his mouth dropped open in a scream of grief.

But no sound emitted from his parted jaws.

His wife lay there, motionless on the bed. She was so peaceful, yet he knew better than to assume that was so. The way she was positioned - her head propped up on multiple pillows and her eyes closed. He knew just from the paleness of her skin that she was not merely sleeping. He had seen far too much war to know that at least that was true.

Leaning forward, he kissed the motionless woman's forehead. One last time.

He had come too late.

He hadn't even got to say goodbye.

Turning away from the bed, Nathan faced the doctors, one holding a small infant in his arms, and the other holding a large white sheet. He wordlessly stepped aside to let the woman with the sheet pass behind him, and then held out his arms to take the baby.

His baby.

The child of his wife.

The doctor allowed the prince to take his newborn, the blue eyes eyes filled with tears. "I am sorry, Prince Nathan." He mumbled. "Best to tell the news to Queen Harmonia. She doesn't know yet."

Nathan nodded and - whilst cradling his child - left the bedchambers he once shared with his wife. He made his way silently down the hall and toward the throne room where the queen and King of Melody spent most of their days.

How would they react? Would they rejoice at the new child, or grieve for their sister? Both? None? The Prince could only wait and see.

Upon entering, Nathan was greeted by Queen Harmonia and King Garomius. The queen rushed forward, her eyes widening once she laid eyes on the infant. "Is that my sister's child?" Her voice came out as an awe-filled squeak, and Nathan knew why. This baby was very good-looking, the skin just the right shade of tan, and the hair a perfect shade of black. The child was everything Nathan had wanted, and yet the newborn looked too similar to his wife.

The Prince gave a sigh and nodded, keeping his red eyes cast downward. The infant slept peacefully in his arms, shifting so the head was resting on his chest. The baby wasn't the only one who sought comfort from the beating of the princess's heart. He himself wished he could feel it. At least one last time. He hadn't even been able to say goodbye.

"And what of the Princess?" Harmonia demanded.

Nathan remained in silence, instead finding new places to look, such as the intricate details of the paintings that lined the walls of the throne room.

"Prince Nathan." Harmonia's voice grew higher pitched as she spoke, jolting his head back so that he might stare at his Queen. "What has happened to my sister?"

Finally, Nathan could bear her tone no longer. He raised his head, eyes filled with tears as he met the eyes of Harmonia and sighed a choked, painful sigh.

"The princess is dead. And she has delivered a beautiful baby girl." He announced, his voice carrying out through the throne room. The maids and servants went silent. Garomius gasped and held his hand over his mouth in shock and grief. Harmonia stared in complete horror at the prince, her eyes flickering with unseen emotions before they bubbled to the surface, and realization of his words sank in long enough for her to process them.

"Dead?" She put her hand over her own swollen stomach. "No. She can't be!"

Nathan was silent. He was still in his own state of shock.

"Not my dear, sweet sister!"

Everyone on Melody knew that the Princess and the queen - despite being sisters - had also been best friends. Each had been the other's maid of honor at their weddings. Nathan had seldom seen them apart as children. Or as adults for that matter.

Nathan had never witnessed the true love of sisters until he had witnessed their bond - it was one if the reasons telling Harmonia about her sister's passing was so hard. He hated to see one of the sisters upset without the other comfort her.

"I cannot raise this child without a mother." Nathan finally spoke again, looking down at his beautiful daughter and forcing a smile to his lips as she stared at him with those innocent baby-blue eyes. "I have come to ask if you might do it instead. My life is too busy, and without my wife, I do not think I could keep her alive with just myself."

Harmonia gasped, the tears in her eyes falling freely as she reached out to gently take the black-haired baby from her father's arms. "Me? Raise my sister's daughter?" She looked to Garomius. "But what of our own child?"

Nathan understood her reluctance. For one, it was foolish to push the child of her dead sister upon her while she was pregnant with her own child. Secondly, Harmonia had just heard the news of her sister's passing moments before. Was she even capable of raising a child?

The king looked fondly at the baby, who had her head pressed comfortinly to the queen's chest. "I don't see why we couldn't raise two children." He finally said. "I would be honored to raise such a beautiful baby." His eyes flickered to Nathan. "But you must promise to still be this child's father. I will raise her, but you will as well. I see no reason that this baby cannot have two fathers."

Nathan nodded slowly and smiled once Harmonia handed him the child back. "What will you name her?" The voice was thick - filled with numbness and grief.

The Prince looked down at his daughter, taking in her silky black hair and pale skin. She looked so much like her mother, and that thought alone caused Nathan's heart to ache for his wife. "We have been choosing names for months now." He murmured, though his quiet tone carried easily through the silent room. "We have thought of Bluebell, Marian, Harp, Windia, Lucy." He gave a dusty chuckle. "We even thought Phoenix would suit her."

"But?" Harmonia asked.

"But now the Princess is no longer here to help me decide which name would be perfect." Nathan continued. "So I wish to name my daughter after the mother she never got to meet."

Garomius gave a somber nod and gestured for him to announce the name of the new princess of Melody. The room was once again silent, waiting eagerly for the new name to ring across the walls, stirring the curtains yet hushing the air.

Nathan stared down at the baby girl in his arms. "I name this child Rhythma of Melody - after her mother, and after the fact that Rhythm will never be lost as long as she lives."

And the name was sealed.

Cheers erupted from the servants that had paused to listen, and Nathan finally let the tears fall as he grieved for his dead wife. The newly named Rhythma was taken from his arms once again by Harmonia, and Nathan exited the throne room without another word, leaving his child - his only child - in the hands of his sister-in-law.

Servants side-stepped to let their Prince pass by. But he didn't head for his bedchambers. Not yet. Instead, he headed for the stables to greet Justice, for despite being overwhelmed with loss and mourning the death of his marriage mate, one could not leave their best friend and prized steed to go hungry even for just a night. That would be a terrible betrayal of loyalty, and Nathan had lost enough tonight. He had no wish to add the loss of his horse's trust to the list.

Besides, Justice might be able to lend the grieving Prince some comfort.

Armed with a torch now in hand, Nathan left the warm embrace of the castle and slipped into the cool night air, listening for the bats and for the whinny of his horse.

He vanished from the castle's grip, leaving the sad palace he called home to greet his best friend.

Then, over the roaring winter wind, Nathan heard a sound behind him. A high-pitched eerie wail that reached the prince's eardrum even through the harsh breeze. He turned, his torch raised to search for the cause of that brief moment of sound, and was shocked to find Harmonia standing in the doorway, her eyes somber. In her arms she held baby Rhythma, who produced another cry that launched through the night.

Harmonia met Nathan's gaze. He saw understanding and grief in her deep amber eyes, and she gave him a respectful nod.

"Go well, Prince. We shall wait for you as long as we have too."

With that, the Queen of Melody vanished into the castle once again, taking Rhythma with her. Nathan paused where he stood, debating if this was truly the right course of action.

He would be back in a year or so. This was something he had to do.

Nathan dove into the stables and mounted Justice quickly. He retrieved himself a sack of carrots, apples, and a faded, black-and-white image of his wife, before slinging it back over his horse and climbing up.

"Yah!" He cried, kicking his steed into a gallop. They raced off into the storm, to clear their minds of the events of that night.

One year. He told himself. I will return on Rhythma's first birthday.

And he was gone.

A/N: Welcome back, readers, to the second book of Rhythma's torturous life! I hope you enjoyed the prologue, though it was a bit on the sad side.