Hi everyone!
My first fanfic posted on . EVER. *squee*
I am looking to get some constructive criticism and advice - so please do give me those little notes, no matter how big or small so I can meet up to your expectations. I'm also hoping that you do like this, and that you tell me what you want out of it so I can continue.

Now, without any further ado, let's go.

Aku no Musume/Daughter of Evil

Chapter 1 – Tea Time

"Oh, it's tea time."

The world was split into five different countries – the Yellow, the Blue, the Green, the Red and the main land in the middle – where the towns markets and other necessities were. Of all the lands, the Yellow took charge, with each command and call being the law.

Ruler of this land was a youthful and lively girl of only 20, her golden strands of hair signifying beauty and royalty. Though one of the younger rulers amongst the world, she did not lack any quality to be a queen – despite her heart of gold and her sense of justice. As elegant as she was, she strutted around her castle in proud, pastel yellow dresses – with each one embroidered with silk and lace. If her majesty was not parading around her castle barking orders, she would be found sitting in her courtly chair.

The time at the moment just happened to be her majesty's 'tea time', where she would be served the most delicious and sweet biscuits, with a selection of cakes and coffees at her arsenal. A tall, lean man with equally golden hair (though only shoulder length) wheeled in a trolley through the royal highness's chamber, with trays loaded with confectionary and sugar-snacks on the first layer of the trolley. The second layer had the dearest's coffee and sugar cubes, whilst the last layer carried her selection of cakes.

"Tyler, hurry it up~!"

"Yes, Miss Angela."

At the command, the servant hastened his pace, before halting at the Ruler's feet to kneel with as much respect and gratitude as he could muster.

"Your Highness, I apologize for the delay. I sincerely hope that the treats today will meet your standards."

Angie merely 'harrumphed' at the poor sight of her servant's sucking up routine, and snatched a biscuit off the trolley. Even though she took a miniscule bite, the puckered look she plastered on her face obviously showed utter disappointment.

"It is disgusting, Tyler, DIS-GUST-ING! I shall leave this horrid palace at once to find a more suiting delicacy at the town square."

"Your Highness! I do suggest tha-"

"SHUT UP, TYLER! I shall do as I please, thank you!"

Storming out of her chamber, her - (sigh) also – golden heels clicked and clattered against the stone hard floor. On her way out, she took a ragged robe that hung near the double doors, cloaked herself and raised the hood before, almost literally, punching the door down to make her way to the entrance hall. Tyler sighed and hung his head – he was surely going to receive punishment after the third appalling day in a row.

The dirt path from her castle was a rough walk to get to the town square – she'd be walking for a decent half an hour, if not, and hour at least. Hitching the skirt of her dress up and removing her dear high heeled shoes of gold, she set off on bare feet for her quest to find a proper delicacy.

Her Highness hadn't even reached her half way point – and she'd taken a decent hour now. How she would even actually make it to the town and back to the manor was going to be an impressive feat. Oh, how she wished she'd requested for her chariot. Her heels ached, her legs were almost a gelatinous mess, and her body was screaming and crying for a rest.

Staggering along the path, her pale green eyes widened once she had seen a smoothly paved stone bridge. Although the ground wasn't carpet soft, it would surely beat walking on twigs, stones and other obstructions. Her left hand hitched her skirt higher and her feet hastened to reach soft ground. After taking her last step onto the callous dirt path, she collapsed into a untidy heap on the stone. Like an overworked father to a bed, she simply fell.

Witness to this breakdown was a man with chestnut hair and a pair of rectangular framed glasses, (guess who~!) with a blue scarf wrapped snugly around his neck. His clothes were pristine white - with the cuffs of his shirt the same colour as his scarf. In a slight state of panic, he rushed over from the opposite side of the stone bridge to assist the fallen woman.

"Are you alright, madame?" the man called, the voice foreign to Angie.

"I'll have you know that I am perfectly-"

She looked up at the one she snapped at - only to realise she was proud to call the stranger her 'savior'. The man's fingers intertwined with hers - helping her up to her feet. His brown eyes had a warm reassuring aura as he smiled at her, making her Majesty's eyes soften and her heart to melt. This man must be some miracle worker - he was the first to even calm the compassion-less queen.

". . . f-fine."

"What, so I don't get a thank you?" he laughed, jokingly.

Her savior's demeanor caused a deep flush to colour her cheeks, making him laugh harder - if that was possible. Dusting her ragged-looking dress off to free it from any dirt or stains, she looked back up at the stranger to give him a pout.

"Thank you, then, sir. I app-"

"Stiles, will do fine, madame. Derek Stiles."

Although hesitant, she thought it only necessary for her to share her name to put the two on a less stiff basis. Derek almost made it compulsory for her to share her title as well - letting out a hand for her to shake.

"Thompson. Angela Thompson," she said, reluctantly letting her gloved hand out to shake his.

After a few solemn shakes of the hand, Derek let go with another warm grin. With the same hand he had used to shake her's, he waved a goodbye to her before he departed.

"I am terribly sorry, Angie, but I must be on my way."

"My name is Angela, sir," she shot back at him.

"Alright, farewell, Angie!"

"AN-GE-LA."

The man then set off at a jogging pace, leaving her by herself again. With high hopes that the two would meet again, Angela would make sure he wouldn't leave without falling into the palm of her hand. . .

To Be Continued

WELL. How was that?
Not much of a cliffie from my perspective, but please do give me some hints and tips. To be honest, I'm actually asking for (constructive) criticism rather that praise, but I'll be satisfied with anything! Look at me. . . I'm so naggy. Ugh. Just. . . don't listen to me. Do what you want.
I should stop talking to myself about how stupid I am sooner or later. FOR GOODNESS SAKES HANA, THIS IS THE AUTHOR'S NOTE SECTION. NOT THE RANTING SECTION.

Okay. Shutting up now. :]