"Everyone will admire the princess who does not perspire."

The words echoed from the speakers, rattling Marco's mind. Each phrase seemed to grow louder with every passing syllable. Despite what felt like hours of struggling, he still hadn't managed to free his hands. The straps holding his wrists down were beginning to break the skin. For the umpteenth time, another glowing image assaulted his straining eyes.

"'Tis better to be fussy than to be called a hussy!"

This time his lips followed along on their own, shaping the words before he could catch himself.

"No, NO!" he shouted, scolding himself. He had to keep resisting. He had to look away. But his eyes were stretched so far open and he could barely turn his head. He didn't know how much time had passed. His throat was raw from screaming and his eyes felt tired and stiff. Think, Marco! he internally screamed. How long had he been here? What did he need to do? Where was Star? It already felt like ages since he'd last seen her. She'd fallen down that laundry chute.

She was calling his name.

But where was she now? Had she made it out safely? Would she try to come back for him?

"If your elbows are on the table, you belong in a stable."

"MAKE IT STOP!"

That damned voice was at it again. He felt like he was drowning. His lungs were filling with water, every word sinking him deeper into a murky abyss. He didn't want this. He liked himself. They couldn't make him to change.. but the words just kept on coming, chipping away at his own perception and replacing it with hers. In a moment, he stopped thrashing. Something inside him had begun to warp. Suddenly these words he'd dreaded all along began to seem more sensible than before.

Deep down, he knew what this was. He'd reached the tipping point. Somewhere down the line, he'd snapped, and the screaming inside him had grown silent. Each passing rhyme lulled him into a keen sense of calm as all other thoughts melted away, and lifelessly, he chanted along, submersed in every word.

When Marco first awoke, he didn't remember anything from the night before. The soft pillow and bed he was resting on tempted him to return to his slumber. Still, a nagging feeling called out to him, pressing him to leave the land of dreams and rejoin the waking world. He opened his eyes, immediately sensing that something was off.

He looked down at himself and found he was dressed in a nightgown. He didn't know who it belonged to. The walls surrounding him were grey and unfamiliar. He could just barely make out their form in the dim light from the lanterns hanging off of them. Stone. Grey, stone. Where was he?

"Finally," a sickly sweet voice startled him out of his thoughts. "The princess awakens."

He sat up in the bed, scanning the room to locate the source of the voice. It came from someone sitting in the wooden chair at the farthest corner of the room. Their silhouette, tall and slender, was bathed dramatically in shadows. Slowly, they rose to their feet.

"You've caused us quite a bit of trouble," She said, walking out from the darkness and into the light. "Haven't you, Princess Marco?"

His eyes widened.

Miss Heinous!

The woman smirked, as though reading his thoughts. At once, the memories came swarming back to him, of all the things that had happened not long ago.

The school. Princess Pony Head. The uprising.

Star.

The memory of her falling, calling out to him as she disappeared down the chute was still so fresh in his mind.

He had to know.

"Where's Star?" He wouldn't waste any time. He didn't know what could happen. He might not make it out of here alive, but he wanted- needed to know, that his best friend in the whole world was safe.

"If you're referring to the rabble-rouser fighting by your side, my men are in pursuit of her as we speak, along with that troublemaker, Princess Pony Head. And to think, she was doing so well before the two of you corrupted her all over again," For a moment, she almost looked bitter, but that was quickly replaced with a more neutral expression. "It's no matter, either way. Before long, they'll have been caught and brought back to here, where they belong."

Marco couldn't hold back a sigh of relief. Good, he thought. They haven't gotten her yet. She's going to be okay.

"But she should be the least of your concerns."

His eyes shifted back to her. What could she mean by that? Come to think of it, why was she keeping him here?

"What do you want from me?" he asked, crossing his arms over his chest either out of defiance, or fear. He wasn't entirely sure himself. "You already stopped the uprising. What else could you possibly want?"

Truthfully, they could have killed him, if they wanted. Or they could have left him in solitary conform-ment for however long it took for one to be brainwashed. So why was he here, instead?

"What I want is to ensure that this never happens again," she said. "And that is why I need you, Princess Marco. I'm going to make an example out of you. All the other girls may have thought that by banding together, they could take over the organization and get off scott free." She practically spat every word. Then, her tone softened, just a bit. "But now," she chuckled devilishly, "they're going to see that even the most rebellious spirit can be brought into submission."

He'd never felt more repulsed.

"Right," he rolled his eyes, voice dripping with sarcasm. "Well, I'm sorry to break it to you, m'lady, but clearly," he pointed to himself with both hands, "You failed."

Say what she might, Marco felt fine. He didn't feel brainwashed at all. In fact, he felt just like his usual self. Her wicked smirk seemed to widen at that.

"You spent more time in the chamber than you think, little miss. Go on and try to defy me. You'll find it to be a great deal more difficult than you imagine."

Marco wanted to ignore that.. but what if she was right? Could he really be okay after nearly being brainwashed?

He shook his head. Now wasn't the time to wonder. He needed to find a way out of this, and fast. Quickly, he tried to think of a way to evade her. He could use a karate move, he thought, then while she was down, he could escape. But which move should he use?

He came up totally blank.

Punches, kicks, jabs, he couldn't even think of one. It was like something had been erased. Like that part of his mind had been stolen from him.

Just how long had he been in that chamber?

"Your training will begin tomorrow," said Miss Heinous, conclusively, drawing his attention back to herself again. The cold smile she wore told him that she knew. She knew what he was trying to do, and that because of her, he no longer could. She continued. "Since it seems you've learned very little thus far, we will be starting from the very beginning. You'll be in my office at nine a.m. sharp, where we will go over the details of your training from now on."

He had trouble grasping her words. Was he really going to be trapped here?

"A servant will be here by seven to feed you, and the guards by eight thirty to unlock the door. They will also escort you to my office."

She was going to lock it from the outside. There would be no way to get out.

She turned to leave, only pausing at the door to get in a final word. Her gaze met his again. It felt even colder than before.

"You'll be quite a challenge, I'm sure," She said, barely hiding a satisfied grin, "but I know that with patience, that fire inside you will be stamped out."

With that, she was gone.