Princess Ashe stood on her bed, running her brush through her snarled hair and wishing she could undo the tangles of her life as easily. Her attendant, Countess Fran Viera, paced the room looking at the itinerary for tomorrow s leg of the goodwill tour. Ashe frowned, wishing she would go away and leave her to muse over her life in peace. She threw her brush down on the bed and sighed, suddenly discontented with everything she owned. Her fingers absently traced the neckline of her nightgown. "I hate this nightgown." Fran turned to look at her and Ashelia realized that she hadn t meant to say that out loud. But it was too late to take it back, so she continued. "I hate all my nightgowns. Getting the thoughts off her chest felt strangely liberating. And I hate all my underwear, too."

Fran raised her eyebrows and put the notebook on the bedside table. "My dear, you have lovely things." It was meant kindly, but Ashe heard the condescension in her voice; perhaps a hint of jealousy as well. This frustrated her even more. Why did people always think of her as a spoiled princess who had everything she could ever want? True, she had many beautiful possessions, but there were things she longed for that gil couldn' t buy. Things she needed desperately yet might never have.

"But I'm not two hundred years old!" She knew she sounded childish, but she just couldn t help herself. She sat down hard on the mattress, causing it to bounce. She sighed again, picking at the hem of her nightgown. Suddenly, a smile crept across her face "Why can't I sleep in pyjamas?" she mused mischievously.

Fran looked up from turning down the bed sheets. "Pyjamas?"

Ashelia felt like a naughty child as she continued, "Just the top half." Fran smirked slightly, although she tried to hide it. She turned away then walked over to the window. Ashe pulled the covers over her, burrowing in their warmth. Now that she had started to misbehave, she couldn t seem to stop. It made her feel reckless, giddy. "Is it true that there are people who sleep with absolutely nothing on at all?" Ashe could feel her cheeks heating up even as she said it. What had gotten into her tonight?

Fran looked at her in shock, but quickly composed herself. "It is not unusual for the people of my country to sleep that way, but I always found it . . . uncomfortable." She opened the window to let in the night breeze and walked back over toward a bedside chair. Ashe lay back against the headboard smiling at her own sauciness. Her ears perked to the sound of distant music as it drifted slowly into the room. Intoxicated with the song and her own peculiar mood, Ashe bolted out of bed and looked out the window. Below her a celebration was taking place in the town square, probably an overflow of this evening s ball. Ironically, it was a party held in her honour to which she had no invitation. Ashe felt her pulse speed up as she watched couples slow dancing in the moonlight, lost in each other s eyes. Would she ever feel love like that?

Fran didn t seem to notice Ashelia's reverie as she was trying unsuccessfully to locate her majesty's slippers. She finally spotted them under the bed and was about to present them to Lady Ashe when she observed her perched at the window with a far-off look in her eyes. "Please put on your slippers and come away from the window." We cannot have you catching cold. Ashe dejectedly walked back to the bed as Fran shut the window and handed her a tray. "Your milk and crackers."

Ashe received the tray and sighed for the third time in as many minutes. It was something she was getting quite good at. "Everything we do is so wholesome," she complained.

"They'll help you to sleep," Fran chided as she tucked her in.

Ashe's adrenaline was still pumping from the scene she had witnessed below and her feet still ached from all the dancing she had done. "I'm too tired to sleep," she decided. "I won t be able to sleep a wink."

Fran arched a knowing brow and picked up the planner from the bedside table as she sat in the nearby chair. "Then you won't mind going over tomorrow's schedule." She cleared her throat and ran down the items with a fountain pen. "Eight-thirty, breakfast here with the Embassy staff; nine o'clock, we leave for the Archadian Flight Works where you'll be presented with an airship . . ."

Ashe's heart beat faster as she imagined flying off in her own private ship with no one to tell her what to do or where to go. Nevertheless, she kept her voice calm, absently playing with a napkin. "Thank you."

". . . . which you will not accept."

Ashe s hopes were dashed to the ground faster than an airship in a tailspin. "No, thank you," she reluctantly agreed.

"Ten thirty-five, inspector of Food and Agricultural Organisation will present you with an olive tree . . ."

Ashe frowned. Peace was important and all, but really, what could she do with a single olive tree? "No, thank you."

"Which you will accept."

She was becoming cross now, but she tried to keep it out of her voice. "Thank you," she replied graciously.

"Ten fifty-five, the Archades Home For Orphans. You will preside over the laying of the cornerstone; same speech as last Monday."

Ashe squinted, trying to recall. "Trade relations?" she guessed.

"Yes."

Ashe scrunched her face, and chewed a cracker. "For the orphans?"

"No, no, the other one."

"Ah." She paused to swallow. "Youth and progress," she said in a voice that was only slightly mocking.

Fran nodded with satisfaction. "Precisely. Eleven forty-five, back here to rest. No, that's wrong... She scratched it out and added an item. No rest for the wicked, thought Ashe with a grimace. Was she ever allowed a single moment to herself? "Eleven forty-five, conference here with the press."

"And I will discuss sweetness and decency," she parroted, rolling her eyes.

"One o'clock sharp, lunch with the Foreign Ministry. You will wear your white lace and carry a small bouquet of-"

"-very small pink roses," Ashe finished with a groan. She sipped her milk listlessly. Her life was all so predictable. Nothing exciting ever happened.

Fran looked up with a slight frown before continuing. "Three-o five, presentation of a plaque. Four-ten, review special guard of Police; Four forty-five back here to change to your uniform to meet the international. . ."

All the items began to jumble in Ashe s mind like a box of puzzle pieces. She wondered how much more she could stand of this wretched sameness. She knew her duty as goodwill ambassador for her father, Raminas, but seriously, was any of this twaddle doing real good in the world? To her it seemed all for show. She did these things because that was what a Princess was expected to do, not because they made any real difference. Nobody cared what she wanted. It was like she had no feelings at all. All at once, she felt as if she must upset the jigsaw box and reconstruct her life her own way or go mad. "STOP!" screamed a voice that she didn t recognize as her own. She slammed her hands on the tray and averted her gaze from Fran. "Please stop! Stop...!"

Fran looked at her with concern. "It's alright, dear," she said nervously. "It didn't spill." She gingerly picked up the tray and moved it back to the table, as if a sudden movement might cause the Princess to explode.

"I don't care if it's spilled or not," she retorted and threw her face into her pillow. "I don't care if I drown in it!" Ashelia knew she was being melodramatic, but she just couldn t help herself.

Fran sat down on the bed put her slender hands on Ashe's shoulders consolingly. "My dear, you're ill. I'll send for Doctor Cid."

Ashe squirmed out of her grip and turned away. The last thing she needed was that sad excuse for a medicine man poking and prodding her everywhere. "I don't want Doctor Cid; please let me die in peace!"

"You're not dying."

She wished she were. At least that would be something different. And if she could choose to die right now, it would at least be her decision. She balled her fist in frustration and used her free hand to chuck a pillow at the smug bunny's head. "Leave me." Fran sat perfectly still without blinking, the infuriating wench. Ashe sat up and shouted with all she was worth. "Leave me!"

"It's nerves; control yourself, Ashe."

Control herself? Wasn t that what she did all day every day? It was time to be a little selfish. "I don't want to!" she screamed and beat a nearby pillow. She would rather it were the countess's head, but it would have to do.

Fran took this opportunity to stand up, pull her robe more tightly around her and head for the door. She turned back to the princess before exiting. "Your Highness."

Ashe heard the door slam with some satisfaction but decided to add for good measure, "It's no use; I'll be dead before he gets here!" She buried her head in the pillow and sobbed several years worth of frustrated tears. What was the use of living if she couldn't live the way she wanted to? A little voice inside rebuked her for her behavior. What was wrong with her anyway? A princess shouldn t behave this way. There were people out there, thousands of people who looked up to her, and here she was blubbering like a baby moogle. She took several deep, shuddering breaths and willed herself to calm down. After all, who knew what Doctor Cid would do if he saw her like this?

Doctor Cid. The very moniker was a laugh. Cidolfus Demen Bunansa was a mad scientist whom the Archadians revered as some kind of god, or a priest at the very least. According to rumour, he could do amazing things with nethicite, a stone which purportedly contained the power and energy of the gods. Ashe trembled as she thought about her encounters with the stone. The soft glowing resonance of the artifact had made her feel both out-of-control and all-powerful at the same time. Its pulsing power had both excited and terrified her, and she didn t feel she could handle it the way her emotions were tonight.

She didn't know how long she lay there, gulping in the stale, musty air. Eventually, she became aware of the doorknob turning and the sound of footsteps. Ashe held perfectly still, hoping that whoever it was would leave her alone.

"She is asleep." The voice was softly accented, puzzled: Doctor Cid.

"She was in hysterics three minutes ago, Doctor." The Countess.

Ashe felt someone bending over her. "Are you asleep, Princess?" Cid's whisper tickled her face and made her shiver. Damn that creepy old man. She had given herself away. "No," she confirmed unnecessarily.

"Oh." His voice was disappointed. She dare not imagine why. She turned to face him and he removed his long white glove to put his icy fingers on her forehead. Despite the fact that he was such a disturbing character, he was quite handsome, she admitted to herself begrudgingly. If he was about twenty years younger and not such a megalomaniac . . . Wait a minute, what was she thinking? She was definitely in a bizarre mood tonight. He reached for his doctor s bag and removed a thermometer. "I'll only disturb our princess a moment, eh?" She hoped that was true.

Ashe decided she needed to speak and break the discomfort she felt with him sitting there. "I'm very ashamed, Doctor Cid; There's nothing wrong with me really. I just wanted. . ." She made the mistake of looking into his soft brown eyes, and before she knew it, unbidden tears were coursing down her cheeks. "Why . . . am I crying?" she managed to get out before he placed the thermometer in her mouth.

"To cry is a perfectly normal thing to do, Ashelia B'nargin Dalmasca," he stated pretentiously and she nodded, unable to speak with her lips wrapped around the thermometer. "Even for a princess such as yourself; in fact . . . especially for someone like you." Ashe s eyes widened as he looked at her. It was almost as if he knew exactly how she was feeling. "All the rules and responsibilities you have to deal with. . . Tsk, tsk, tsk . . ." Her heart felt as if it would pound out of her chest, as he lowered his voice to a whisper, "Doesn t it make you long for something more?" Ashe wanted to cry, laugh, and scream all at the same time. Instead, she gasped.

"It is most important she be calm and relaxed for the press conference, Doctor." A third voice was heard, and Ashe realized that her personal bodyguard, Sir Basch fon Ronsenberg, was also in the room, likely to make sure Cid didn't try to pull anything. The thought comforted her somewhat, but the strain of the evening and Doctor Cid s leering presence still agitated her.

"Don't worry, Doctor, I-" He removed the thermometer, and she could speak clearly again. "I'll be calm and relaxed and I -I'll bow and I'll smile and- I'll improve trade relations and I, and I will..." She desperately tried to hold it together, but the more she did, the more she could feel her life closing in around her. Her throat constricted, she couldn t seem to catch her breath. She wished she would swoon or have a heart attack, anything to relieve the panic. Instead, she crumpled to the bed in hysterical tears.

"There she goes again." She heard Fran s voice as though she was far away or underwater. "Do something, Doctor, please."

Ashelia's mind registered the statement and tried to tell her body to behave. It hovered above her, chiding softly yet firmly, but she was beyond all inner reasoning. She vaguely sensed Doctor Cid reaching in his bag for something and then Basch clearing his throat loudly. She turned to look and beheld a syringe filled with colourfully sparkling liquid. "None of your experiments now, Doctor Cid. Right, Basch?" Fran turned to her partner in crime for approval. Ashe saw Basch slump to the floor and Fran bend to help him as if in slow motion. Then she felt a stab of pain and heard maniacal laughter.

Ashe gasped and looked back on Doctor Cid in horror. "What did you give me?" The fluid burned as it seeped into her veins.

"Sleep and calm," he said innocently as he quickly hid the evidence in the depths of his large leather bag. "This will relax you and make Your Highness feel a little happy." He winked conspiratorially. "It's a new drug, quite harmless."

Ashe glared icily at him. "It better be." She lay back for a moment, considering. After a few seconds, the burning stopped, leaving her just as spacey as before. "Well, I don't feel any different."

"You will," he said, his face lit with a strange glow. "It may take a little time to take hold. Now just lie there and relax." He finally rose to go, and relief flooded her.

"Can I keep just one light on?"

Cid turned to look at her with a sparkle in his eye. "Of course. Best thing I know is to do exactly what you wish for a while."

Ashe smiled her first genuine smile in what seemed like days. She didn't know how, but somehow he understood her. "Thank you, Doctor."

The tender moment was shattered by an exasperated cry of "I could use some help down here!"

"Oh!" Doctor Cid appeared to notice the unconscious Basch for the first time and stooped to help him back to his feet. Ashe couldn't help but giggle a little at the absurdity of the situation.

"I'm perfectly alright," Basch insisted, brushing himself off. "Goodnight, m'Lady," He bowed to the princess and turned to leave, Fran right behind him.

Doctor Cid made as if to follow them, then turned and bowed to Ashe, smiling. "Goodnight, Ashelia B'nargin Dalmasca. He then leaned over to whisper one last time. If I were you, I d make my escape while the lust for freedom is still strong. Let it consume you . . . fill you with courage and strength . . . before it's too late." Then he stood abruptly and joined the others on their way out the door.

"Goodnight, Doctor," she sighed, as he turned out all but one of the lights. She pulled the covers up and tried to get comfortable, but Doctor Cid s words kept running through her head: Escape. . . Lust. . . Freedom. . . . Courage. . . Strength. . . Too late . . . Suddenly, she bolted upright and ran to the window, where the party was still going on in the streets below. It wasn t too late! Filled with hope and excitement she ran to her wardrobe and produced the most common outfit she could find. After a quick glance at the door, she ripped off the hated nightgown and threw it on the ground. After changing into her casual garb, she quietly opened the window and sat on the sill. Swinging her legs outward, she lowered herself onto a tree branch below and then jumped the rest of the way to the ground, free at last.