Prince at birth.

Thief at age seventeen.

Father and murderer at age nineteen.

How does this even happen? Well, that's a question Skye Stein entertained himself. Born in a cradle and die in a cave he mused, looking down from his head onto the stone floor. He hadn't really noticed the pain until this very moment, and he sunk to the floor. His temples pulsed with pressure, and he found it difficult to wretch his hands from his chest.

And then he remembered.

He wretched his hands away from his ribs, extending his arms but keeping them tightly behind his tucked knees, praying to whatever was out there she was still-

Breathing. She was breathing – covered in blood and miraculously still asleep – but breathing.

Relieved, Skye threw his head back against the stone wall – a decision he immediately regretted when the contact sent a bolt of pain through his head. He cringed, muttering in pain. His life had run away from him, but he supposed it was his own fault. Fate couldn't screw up this badly, not after his life has been so well set up for success.

He was one of the lucky ones; and, arguably, luck never left his side. He wouldn't have been able to survive the events of last night if it weren't for Lady Fortune. At this, and despite his pain, Skye smirked. Maybe he had charmed her too.

Maybe he had been floating in the cosmos before his descent to earth. Maybe she was so charmed with him and was protecting the prince of the stars after all. He chuckled and winced once again.

Maybe he had a concussion. That seemed more likely.

His steps reverberated off the cavern walls and intermingled with the sounds of his daughter's breathing. At least she wasn't crying – he'd come too far to die now. He stopped when pebbles crumbled from the ceiling.

"Fall back! He must've run into town!"

He exhaled a breath he wasn't aware he was holding. Lady Luck was definitely the most faithful woman he ever encountered. A spring came back into his step. He could come out the other end of the cave, and that would put him far enough away from the search party.

But then what? He supposed he could keep walking. That seemed the most likely option at this point - keep walking until he found somewhere no one would recognize a disgrace prince turned thief, as impossible as that sounded.

He looked at the bundle in his arms. He supposed he could go home. His life would be hell, but perhaps it would spare hers. Disgraced or not, he was a Stein and a royal one at that. He would have the back bone and the resources and the power to put all this to sleep.

And then he took another look at his daughter.

Anything associated with him would automatically be a subject of gossip, and it was evident from his daughter's auburn hair that she was not fully Stein. Child of the prodigal and genetically "flawed"? Not to mention all of the not so well hidden abuse and infidelity and moral scandals.

Skye's hands clenched.

No. Returning home was not an option. It was better to walk. He'd left for a reason, and he would die before he put his child through that hell.

"Bah?"

Skye looked down, loosening the crooks of his arms. For the first time in the last twelve hours, he smiled. Her eyes were half open like she was unable to decide whether slumber or consciousness was the better option. Skye brought her to his shoulder and balanced her in the crook of his neck.

Had Leon ever looked at him like this? Surely he must have at one point when he didn't view his son as his greatest disappointment. Childhood memories were filled with Clarice and her love, despite the fragility of her delicate mind, but his memories of his father's love were barren.

That was one of the reasons he had left. His father cared more about the lies his family traditionally upheld for centuries – about how the Steins were more than mere magicians and their powers were given from the heavens to slay monsters. Skye laughed despite his situation. At least he had stories to tell his daughter – he could thank his father for that much.

Eventually, the pressure of living a lie and lack of love eventually caught up to him, and he left home….only to become a thief. Turns out life outside of the castle wasn't as liberating as he had hoped. No one wanted to anger the king by harboring his son. That was seen as assisting his abdication which was, in lofty terms, treason. Nobody deemed him worthy of losing a head and he remained unsheltered. Leon probably expected him to return, humbled by his prodigality and thankful for the royal blood flowing in his veins. That only had pushed him further.

In fact, it pushed him to the other end of the country. He smiled at the thought. Then he grimaced.

That was where he met her.

A wail snapped him from his grimace, and Skye withdrew the child from his neck in a state of panic. She was crying, screaming really, and it was a sound that was horrifying and beautiful given the circumstances. Uncertain of what to do, Skye sprinted down the path of the cave, reasoning that escape meant civilization he could pilfer food from. At the very least, the increase in movement might lull her back to sleep. He needed her asleep, and it almost wasn't fair – none of this was fair. He broke into a run and sped down the cave.

He was always on the run. In fact, that was how he handled – and ended up with – most of his problems. He was running when he met her and was catapulted into this current situation.

It had just been like any other day. He'd been running for his life, an angry mob after him with a taste for his blood. After losing most of the crowd in the woods, he'd managed to throw himself over a wall – and into a young woman's tea time. He didn't remember much of their conversation as she immediately lorded over him and directed her into the house to be cleaned off.

He did remember her beauty – that was the first thing he noticed. Her hair was somewhere between red and brown styled in pin waves down her back. Her eyes were brown and wild. He was in love.

He had heard her concerned chattering, and he was fairly certain he had responded with the typical "yes" and "I just fell."

"You fell over my wall?!"

And then he'd snapped out of it. He hung his head, realizing that he'd waltzed directly into his downfall. He bit his tongue a bit too late before wincing.

"No…no, Miss, I didn't fall. I jumped."

"Well, I can see that," she hissed, lifting his arm to assess the damage, "the question is why did you even jump over my wall?!"

He lifted his head and made eye contact with her, and her mouth dropped in realization.

"You…you're that thief from the Stein family!"

That was the one thing that never changed. Everywhere he went someone was bound to recognize him, and he was subsequently run out of town minutes after arriving. He'd have to appeal, beg – anything to save him from capture.

"Look, Miss, I had no intention of victimizing your house," he pleaded. "I was actually…" he sighed "just running away...I didn't even know you lived here."

She studied his face, her intense eyes boring holes into his soul. Suddenly, she smirked.

"All right. I won't turn you in – if you do me a favor."

Skye nodded. He was in no position to negotiate and whatever this girl wanted him to do had to be preferable to prison. He was shocked when her only request was his return at midnight, and he felt for certain that his midnight rendezvous would lead to his downfall, but he was a man of his word even until the bitter end. He showed up at her garden, fully expecting to be met by guards.

The only thing waiting for him was a tea set and a table.

"You came!"

Skye turned around to a gleeful young woman running out to meet him, greeting him as if he were and old friend rather than a thief. The sight and situation were all quite strange, but Skye managed to maintain his composure.

"You requested it of me, so yes."

She beamed and pulled a chair from the table and sat herself down while he stood there awkwardly, still half-expecting an arrest. He caught her eyes staring at him, impatient and expecting.

"Well?" she questioned, "aren't you going to sit?!"

He quickly darted for the chair, careful not to anger her, and she smiled. Skye cleared his throat.

"Um, Miss? What is all this?"

She smirked and her little hands ran across the table.

"Well, since you ruined my tea hour earlier, I think it's fair you make it up to me."

Skye stared at her, shock evident on his face. This was all she wanted? She studied his face and shook her head amused. "Oh please," she scoffed, "I have no intentions of sticking my nose where it doesn't belong. Besides, arrests are so much work, and what would I even want with reward money?!" She prattled and gossiped on as if she were talking to a close female friend while Skye still sat there frozen. Once again, her shrill voice withdrew him from his daze.

"You know you could at least act interested!" He jumped and made contact with her angry yet amused face. Skye chuckled and relaxed his tense body and reached for the cup and a biscuit that sat on the table.

"My apologies, Miss-"

"Lyla."

"Lyla," he corrected "I just…didn't expect to have a midnight tea party."

She shrugged and quickly grabbed another biscuit and hurriedly bit into it. She chewed and swallowed before shrugging.

"Like I said, I'm too lazy to arrest you, and I'm too rich to be motivated by your reward money."

Skye laughed.

"I suppose I should be thankful for that."

She smiled.

"You should."

Lyla continued to prattle on, and Skye did his best to follow her excited, brazen manner. It was nice to just speak to someone so openly and freely without the fear of an arrest, and he decided he was going to enjoy this night as long as he could.

"So tell me," she goaded, "why'd you leave?"

Skye chuckled and looked down.

"Would you believe me if I said I just wasn't happy?"

She looked to the side, not in a biting or sarcastic manner but in a way that presented she was actually in in thought of his words.

"Yes, I would."

He gave her a surprised look, and she resumed her conversation. "What were you running from?" He sighed.

"A lot."

She nodded.

"Well, I've got time."

To this day, Skye would never be able to explain why, but he let his emotions loose. Maybe it was because he found her attractive, maybe it was just the fact that he hadn't talked to anyone seriously in such a long time, or maybe it was just something in the tea, but he gave this complete stranger his life story. Better still, she listened – and she meant it. Throughout their conversation, her eyes lost their wildness and gained a sense of compassion. Her acidity melted away into a sobering mercy.

She understood.

When he finished, she nodded and looked up at him.

"My fiancée beats me."

He wasn't sure how long they talked or what time she dragged him to her room, and he didn't care. He was making a horrible mistake, and he knew this girl could turn on him at any minute, and he didn't care.

This was bliss.