Note: Royal!AU, Medieval!AU

Sara rested her chin in her hand as her elbow was perched on the arm of her throne. Today was going to be another meaningless gathering of counts and countesses who thought they were superior to anyone else in the kingdom.

Her father expected her and Laurel to be good little princesses, honoring their duties to simply smile and listen unless spoken to, and Sara could care less.

She wanted to be outside in the forest with her blades, being free with her wind blowing carelessly in the air. She wanted to feel the cool grass beneath her fingertips and the scrapes from sticks on her legs. What she wanted wasn't fitting for a princess, and despite the love her father held for her, he would never allow her to do such a thing.

'To keep you safe' he would tell her, but that's exactly what Sara didn't want. Until she could do what she wanted, she'd have to play the part as the darling princess of Starling.

Her eyes scanned the men and women entering the food hall; she mentally counted the outrageous head pieces that were more fitting for the gallows. Surely her father knew that she would not keep quiet if one of them approached her.

Sara felt the hand on her shoulder, and she turned to meet her sister's knowing gaze.

"The courtyard is scarce of guests. I'll accommodate them here while I can if you promise not to run off before dinner," Laurel said with pleading eyes.

She was giving Sara a way out; how could she possibly decline the offer? Even if Sara didn't go beyond the courtyard, it was still better than being harassed by those stuffy people.

With a firm nod, Sara said in a whisper, "Thank you."

Laurel smiled, nudging Sara to move. "You're welcome. Now hurry and remember not to run off before dinner. I'll give you a signal somehow."

Sara couldn't thank her sister enough. Picking up the sides of her dress, Sara weaved through the crowd of the elite to get to the courtyard. It didn't take her as long as she thought, and the cool air refreshed her. She sniffed the air, taking in the freshness and freedom that came with it before walking along the stone pathway.

The king had it decorated in roses and peonies, all varying in color; it was the attraction of the kingdom. The flowers circled around the dark grey fountain that stood proudly in the center, crystal waters rushing through and glistening in the moonlight.

As much as Sara enjoyed the sight, there was something new in its wake. Rather, someone. He was tall, lean in his dark clothing. His hair was shaved to a fade, a color mixture of black and white. His skin was fair yet pale against the stars and moon.

"Sara Lancelot," the man drawled, "it's certainly a pleasure to see you in the flesh."

Sara raised an eyebrow, folding her arms. "What's that supposed to mean? And who are you?"

"Leonard Snart, resident rogue, at your service," he answered, delivering a mocking bow. "We've heard stories of the daring princess, and I just had to see you myself."

She wanted to question the 'we' and the stories that were about her, but Leonard stepped forward, his eyes staring intently at her face.

"I have to say, you're more beautiful than the stories give," he said.

If she were a woman to blush, that'd be the time. "You have to be a hell of a rogue to take a favor from me," Sara replied.

Leonard chuckled, clasping his hands behind his back. "I speak nothing but the truth, Lancelot." He circled around her, and Sara could take in his scent—it was entrancing, like the scent of fresh rain. "However, the sound of a challenge is enticing." He stopped in front of her, giving her a small smirk.

Sara wouldn't appear to give up so easily in front of him. He liked a challenge, huh? Well, she perfected challenges.

"You won't win," she told him.

"We'll see about that, Lancelot."

"I have a first name."

"I have a preference for the name I use."

She narrowed her eyes, raising a finger to continue the conversation when a candle glare flickered in the nearest window. It had to be the signal from Laurel.

Leonard must have noticed it as well. "Out past your bedtime?"

Sara scoffed, the feeling of temptation coursing through her veins. "No," she answered.

"Seems to me like you have somewhere you're supposed to be." Leonard looked at his fingers. "Wouldn't want to make the king send a search party." He started to step away. "I'll see you again, Sara Lancelot."

She turned to look at the flickering candlelight for only a second before looking back where Leonard stood. Rather, where he was standing. The rogue was gone. How on Earth…?

Now the rogue was in her thoughts; she was sure the bastard knew it too. He was right about one thing: he'd see her again. Because there was no way someone was going to address her like he did and get away with it. He could have at least gone the 'leave me breathless' route.

Word Count: 871