A bit of scene setting here, but it really starts to get going in the next chapter. Hope you enjoy.
The kingdom of Tyleria was reasonably small, but proud, encompassing both the great mountain range of the north and the wild forest to the east. It had a few densely populated cities, but the royal palace was nestled just outside the largest one, easily defendable but set slightly away from the bustle of the centre of the kingdom.
The entire land was ruled over by King Peter and Queen Jacqueline, who were both just and brave, proud of their kingdom and the people they governed. Of course they had enemies, as any ruler of any land is bound to have at some stage, but as a whole they were popular among the general populace, and their leadership of their people was wise and fair.
The entire kingdom rejoiced when the King and Queen were blessed with their first child, a beautiful baby girl whom they named Rose, after her great grandmother who had led Tyleria's army through the great war that had ravaged the country when Rose's grandmother had been a child. There was an enormous portrait of Queen Rosita of Tyleria in one of the halls in the castle, and Rose used to scamper away and look at it every now and then as a child. Her grandmother was young and strong, dressed in the apparel of a soldier of the day, the royal crest adorning her shield. She looked brave and mysterious and, Rose thought, wonderful, and she spent many an hour over the years of her childhood comparing herself to that picture, trying to pick out similarities in their faces and wondering whether she could ever be as brilliant and courageous as her namesake had been.
Growing up as the eldest heir of the royal family was a rather strange experience for Rose, full of contradictions. Her parents adored her and spent as much time with her as possible, but they were constantly being called away to meetings and discussions and trips to survey the kingdom, and so Rose was left in the care of governesses and servants more often than either she or her parents would have liked. She was expected to be mature and well mannered and polite, but she was also never told anything of consequence and kept away from any matters of state that may or may not concern her. Because of this, Rose grew up feeling that her place in the palace was fairly pointless. She seemed to be being prepared for a life of royalty, and yet being taught about which knives and forks to use, and being dressed up and presented to the populace, seemed to have nothing to do with the job of great importance she would have to do one day when she was old enough.
Princess Rose was a sweet young girl, with round cheeks and large eyes and blonde hair that was tangled more often than not, and that she was loathe to let anyone cut. At the age of eight she was energetic and playful, wishing to run around the palace gardens and pretend that she was a knight, a wooden stick for her sword and an old pan from the kitchens as her shield, which she had rescued before it had been thrown away. She read the books she was given or told to read by her parents and teachers, and she enjoyed them, but she also enjoyed building a bridge out of them, or lining them up on their sides and tipping the first one so that they all toppled into each other with satisfying bangs. This always ended up with the palace servants running towards the cause of the disturbance, and with Rose being chastised and led away to be cleaned up and put to some task that more suited a princess, but she enjoyed the fun while it lasted.
As she grew older, Rose began to accept the monotony of her life in the palace, and the ways in which she amused herself grew less and less overt and disruptive. The time she used to spend rebelling and escaping she now spent daydreaming, staring out of the palace windows while she was supposed to be doing embroidery, or gazing at the page of the book she was supposed to be reading without really seeing it, imagining that there was more to her life than having every second of her day scheduled.
Once she hit the age of about 15, Rose began to understand that growing up as a princess brought up a whole new set of problems now that she was at an age that was seen to be mature enough for her to courted. She was now expected to attend balls and dinners and celebrations, treated as a mature lady, and shown the attentions of men and boys who might wish that she would one day become their wife. Personally, Rose found the whole experience humiliating and degrading, as though the only thing she was good for was to be married to a man. The way that they looked at her, with hunger and sometimes what looked like violence in their eyes, shocked and disgusted her, and however many nice young boys there were who were simply doing what they thought they must, there were always the men who would swoop in and drag her off for a dance as though it was their right and her duty to submit to them. She would tell them off for this, of course, but although her parents respected her feelings (and were privately very proud of her for being strong-willed enough to keep these sorts of men at bay) they could not simply get rid of any and all of the men who wished to gain her attention. They risked offending lords and dukes and other people of great importance if they refused to let any specific person interact with Rose, and although they wanted her to marry who she wished, there was a certain amount of diplomacy and politics that went into choosing a consort for the Princess of the Realm.
It did not help that Rose had grown into a beautiful young woman. She sometimes cursed this fact, and attempted to make herself look haggard and surly and therefore undesirable to the opposite sex, but it simply did not seem to have any affect. She had a nicely curved figure, skin that was smooth and mostly free from spots and blemishes – though no young girl in the world could be without her fair share of these, not even the princess – large brown eyes that glittered and plump lips that, when she smiled, spread into such a joyful smile that it seemed to make her whole face shine with soft, golden light. Her hair was long and gold, streaming down her back in thick strands that still had a tendency to get tangled when she went sprinting down the palace halls, ignoring the yells from the servants that she should be walking in a dignified manner. It wasn't that she did it deliberately – she just forgot, just like she sometimes tore or spilled things on her expensive dresses and jewelled finery, or fell asleep in meetings or got the giggles during an important dinner and had to be excused. She was a human being, as she had told her parents crossly not too long ago, and she wasn't going to pretend to be perfect because she wasn't. Princesses didn't have to be perfect – and even if they did, Rose wasn't going to be, possibly just because she liked being contrary to what people expected and told her to be.
Her golden hair was a source of much interest. Her family had had red hair for many generations. Although it skipped some of the children, in every generation there was at least one child who kept up the tradition. Her great grandmother Rosita had had red hair, and Rose used to stare at her portrait and then back at her own hair, willing it to change to bright red to please her parents and uphold the tradition of her family. Rose's mother's hair used to be blonde, not quite the same shade of natural, shining gold that Rose's was, but it had darkened as she had grown older, and was now a shade of dark blonde that was verging on light brown. This had happened quite late to the Queen, but happen it had. It was not abnormal for children of the kingdom to have blonde hair until they reached the age of 11 or so, when it darkened to brown or auburn or black. Rose, on the other hand, had retained the gold colour of her childhood hair, something which was not exactly unheard of, but that had never been seen on a child of the royal family before now.
This, coupled with her distinctive yet beautiful features and her unorthodox behaviour, made Rose a very easily spotted person. She liked to skulk in corners when she was feeling sulky, or creep around the castle, trying to discover secret passages or simply find a place to sit and nap without being disturbed, but getting about unseen when she was so distinctive was nigh on impossible. It angered her more than anything that she had just about no privacy even though she was meant to be one of the most important people in the kingdom, and it was this that made Rose determined that, when she ruled the kingdom, she would make sure she was left alone at least some of the time, in order that she could do what she wanted to do. As Queen, she felt she would deserve that right.
Since her little brother had been born, however, everything had changed. Rose had learned that, due to rules set forth hundreds of years ago, it would be Anthony (a red headed child, much to everyone's delight) who would become ruler when he came of age, as he was the oldest male heir. Her parents were trying to work to get this law, and others like it, lifted, but working through the courts and with advisors and officials make the process slow and tedious, with no hope really that the law would be revoked any time soon. This had infuriated Rose no end, as she had no intention of following any rules that marked her out as worth less than anyone else because she was female. However, she had to admit, she was glad that she would never have to take on the burden of being a ruler. As far as Rose was concerned, the moment she would have been crowned Queen would have been the moment that she said goodbye to any notion of freedom or privacy. If anything happened to her parents before Anthony came of age, then Rose would be crowned automatically, but she had hopes that this would never happen.
Of course, being out of line to the throne came with a new set of problems, the most pressing of which being that Rose was now a princess from an ancient kingdom who would not become ruler, and therefore was seen to be up for the taking by monarchs from different kingdoms and many other lords, barons, dukes, counts and any number of miscellaneous high-born men. The attentions that she had been shown almost incessantly since she had turned 15 now reached an all time high, and Rose was desperate to escape from the constant speculation over how she would spend the rest of her life – or rather, who with. She did not want to go from being stuck in the palace to being stuck as someone's wife for all eternity. Instead of reading books and pretending that she was out exploring, she wanted to be doing it. She wanted more out of her life than what it looked like she was going to get. Rose wanted to see the world. The likelihood of this happening was not looking promising at the moment.
Sick of being readied for a life she did not want, Rose had hatched a plan. It wasn't that she didn't really like dressing up and dancing and staying up until the early hours of the morning – in fact she had always loved to do those things – but now it always felt as if she was being paraded, like a horse being walked around a pen before buyers started bidding on it. Being watched constantly meant that every little mistake she made was magnified by a factor of 20 or so, and she could not stand to be gasped at and whispered about when she got a bit of dirt on her favourite dress.
Having decided she was not going to get married off before she had seen some of the outside world, Rose planned and schemed and made a decision that, this evening, she was venturing beyond the castle walls. She was 19 years old, nearly 20, and it would not be long before she had to make a decision on who she was going to marry. Knowing that this was true, she realised that if she was going to do this, it would have to be now, before it was too late.
Rose slipped out of the side door and ran towards the wall, staying near to the castle for as long as possible. She pulled up the hood of her cloak as she ran, hoping to be able to deny any accusations that might be made if anyone saw her. It was just unfortunate that her golden hair was so distinctive.
She sneaked to the ivy covered section of the wall and pulled some of the green plant away from the stone to reveal a hole, just big enough for her to climb through. She had been told of it by one of the servants, a friendly, outspoken girl called Donna who had informed her that the hole was used by a few of the servants to sneak out and meet their sweethearts or lovers. Rose was not really interested in using it for that purpose, but it seemed that it would suit her needs and so she only allowed herself the smallest of backward glances before crawling through the hole. The stone scratched at her dress but she ignored the thought of any damage that might be done to her expensive clothing and continued onwards.
Rose straightened up on the other side of the wall, feeling the sense of freedom already even though she had not ventured more than one step from her home, the home that she had barely ever been allowed to leave since the moment of her birth.
She took a deep breath and straightened her skirts before setting out determinedly on the road into the city.
It was early evening, and the sun had barely begun to think about setting, leaving all the colours clean and fresh and soft in its gentle light. Rose could almost feel herself beginning to skip and jump along the road, though of course she would never attract attention to herself in that way. Being caught doing this would land her in very deep trouble, not only with her mother and father, but also with any person who might have quarrels with the King and Queen. Meeting a person who bore a grudge against the royal family would probably not go very well for Rose.
Maybe that was why this expedition of hers did not seem to be exactly sensible.
Regardless of any foolishness or even idiocy on her part, Rose walked resolutely on towards the village. At the age of nineteen she would be expected to get married any time now, and she was not going to enter into that very specific sort of imprisonment without going into the outside world. In about two minutes she came to the outskirts of the city, and Rose sighed as she looked around her, a feeling of utter happiness spreading through her. The streets near the edge were busy but not too full, the early summer evening warm and perfect for both trading and socialising. All these happy, normal people milling around made the atmosphere so welcoming, but even better was the fact that not one of them was noticing her. She could do as she liked without being scrutinised by anyone. This was fantastic.
Keeping her hood up in order to better disguise her golden hair, Rose set off about the town, enjoying the feel of the rough cobbles under her feet. She was wearing her riding boots as opposed to a pair of the multitude of delicate slippers she possessed – she had taken all precautions possible to make sure that she would not be recognised as who she really was.
As she looked around her, taking in the atmosphere and trying not to look as though she was staring, a group of young boys and girls came tearing out of a side street, laughing and shrieking. They held short sticks as weapons and, in some cases, wooden swords. They all tore across the road and into another alley on the other side. A second or so after they had vanished from sight, a little girl, smaller than the other children and with long brown hair in two plaits, came darting out of the alley, before promptly slipping in a muddy puddle and falling down hard on her front.
Rose dashed immediately into the road, worrying for the safety of the child as well as her possible injuries. She reached down and pulled the little girl to her feet. "Are you alright?" she asked, concerned.
"Yes, I'm fine," the little girl said crossly, flapping at Rose's hands and smearing at the mud on her dress, "but I've got to arrest them and take them to jail and they've got ahead of me now and I've got the shortest legs!" The tiny girl drew herself up to her full height and pushed Rose gently to one side. "Move out of the way, civilian, I have work to do." She then sprinted off at a surprising speed, nearly tripping over her own feet as they fought to keep up with the speed her body wanted to go at. Rose stared after her, laughing quietly at the determination on the girl's face. She clearly took her 'job' very seriously. It was because of this preoccupation, and a lack of time spent in busy public places, that Rose did not remember she was still standing in the middle of the road.
"Watch out!" Rose heard the voice but did not register it properly, hearing it only dimly as she turned to her left and caught a glimpse of the horse and cart that were coming towards her at an alarming speed (a speed that she thought, in the back of her mind, could not be safe for these busy city streets.)
She had no time to move, but she felt a hand grab hers. "Run," a voice said in her ear, and for once, she obeyed.
