Rachel smiled as she ran over to the giant oak tree. It had been a habit of late: every fortnight she would escape the keen eyes of her many maidservants, run to the gardens, and through the small hidden passage there, escape the palace that was her home to the old oak tree located 500 yards away.
She gazed upward, glancing at the moon above, and huffed in annoyance when she saw the full moon shining brightly above her. She was late; they were supposed to meet before the moon reached its highest point in the sky. It wouldn't have happened if her maidservants hadn't insisted that she try out the new gown for the coming week's ball.
A smile graced her lips when she thought of the ball. Her father has deemed it necessary to hold such an event due to fact that it was her birthday next week. He even gave her permission to invite her friends. This, of course, means she could extend the invitation to her dear friend.
With that thought in mind, Rachel picked up the hem of her dress and began running as fast as she could. She wanted to reach the oak tree before her friend leaves; this meeting was the only chance for her to invite her friend, and the former really wanted the latter's presence there.
Rachel slowed down when she approached the oak tree and spotted the lone figure beneath it. Her friend was in the usual attire: a white blouse, red dress pants, black shoes and blonde locks neatly combed. The blonde's lips turned upward when she saw Rachel, which was returned with a full-blown smile of her own.
Rachel stopped in front of her friend, panting slightly due to exhaustion. She never had a reason to run in the castle, her parents had forbid it as it was not proper. She watched as her friend smiled, taking her right hand and planting a light kiss on its back.
"To what do I owe the honour of your presence," her friend added with a mischievous glint in the eyes, "Princess?"
Rachel jerked her hand back when she heard the title, caressing her hand with her left one. "Quinn! I told you not to call me that!" she puffed out her cheeks and pouted.
"But it is true, is it not?" Quinn countered, playfully.
Rachel opened her mouth to retort, but closed it when she couldn't find anything to say. What Quinn said was true, she was a Princess. King Hiram, her father, ruled the Kingdom and being his daughter, she would naturally have the title of Princess. However, being a princess also has its own difficulties. She had to constantly put up with the façades of the heirs of many other dukes and lords; they showered her with many expensive and glamorous gifts in order to be in the good graces of the King. Rachel never had a genuine friend, until she met Quinn.
"I am sorry," the blonde apologized, interrupting her train of thoughts, "I should not have said that. Would you forgive me, Rachel?"
Rachel shook her head, "There is nothing to forgive. I was being unreasonable." She paused, thoughtfully, before adding, "However, you could do something for me." She looked at the blonde, hopefully.
"Anything." Quinn immediately responded.
"My birthday is next week," Rachel started, "and my father is holding a ball in celebration." She turned to Quinn, a hopeful smile on her face, "It would mean the world to me if you could attend it." The smile left her face when she saw the blonde frown.
"You can't?" Rachel asked.
Quinn did not respond, confirming her assumptions. The former then ran a hand through the blonde hair; it was a habit the blonde did when unsure.
"Do you have something to tell me?" Rachel prompted.
"I –" Quinn paused, thoughtfully. The blonde turned around suddenly and took a seat at the base of tree, resting the body against the tree trunk. "Come here," she beckoned, reaching a hand out in invitation.
"I cannot," Rachel looked at her dress in despair, "It would get dirty, and my father would ground me again."
"It is alright," Quinn soothed, patting on her red pants, "you can sit here."
Rachel paused and considered for a moment. She then gathered her dress and settled on top of Quinn, resting her hands on the blonde's shoulders.
"Are you unavailable?" Rachel prompted, as the blonde wrapped an arm around her waist to steady her, the other hand came to play with a lock of brown hair.
Quinn nodded, "I asked my parents to send me away."
"What for?" Rachel cried, surprised.
"To become a knight."
"You're going to become a knight?"
"Yes, I–" Quinn stuttered, a rare sight in itself, "I would like to protect someone."
"Who is she?"
"She?" The blonde raised an eyebrow in amusement, "How do you know it is not a boy?"
"They are able to protect themselves better," a pause, "and I do not think a boy would like your protection," Rachel answered truthfully.
"That would be true," Quinn chuckled lightly, "I would like to protect a noble."
"Lady Pierce?" Rachel guessed, recalling the beautiful blonde-haired girl one year her senior.
"No, she is a noble of higher status."
"Lady Lopez, then?" Rachel clarified, "the future Duchess?"
"No," Quinn denied once again, "but you are close. She also has brown hair." It was then that Rachel became aware of the hand that played with the locks of her hair, her brown hair.
"Oh." Rachel blushed hotly, burrowing her face into the blonde's neck trying to hide her embarrassment. Quinn only hummed in amusement and continued to run a hand through the brown strands. A pleasant silence fell between them.
"I… would like that," Rachel admitted softly, when she finally pulled away from Quinn, "How long would you be away?"
The blonde sighed, seemingly reluctant to tell her, "Ten years."
"Ten years," Rachel repeated, realization dawning on her. She pushed her thoughts into the back of her mind; there will be a time to brood over it in the future, not now with her precious friend, "When would you be leaving?" she continued.
"Five days from now," Quinn answered, cringing. It was the same day as Rachel's birthday.
"Then, you will not be coming to the ball," Rachel realized, belatedly.
"I am sorry," Quinn apologized quickly, "Will you forgive me?"
Rachel knew that the blonde was not only apologizing for missing her coming birthday, but also for those in the coming 10 years. "I forgive you," she sighed, defeated. There was no reason to not forgive the blonde; it was not going to change what had already been set to stone.
A hand was removed from brown hair and fiddled in the pocket of red pants. "I know it is early, but I do not think there will be another opportunity for me." The blonde pulled out a long golden chain at the end of which lied a golden locket. "An early birthday present, if you will."
"I know it is not much," Quinn continued, referring to Rachel's title as Princess, "but think of it as something to remember me by." She placed the locket into Rachel's receiving hands before loosening the top button of the white blouse, revealing a similar golden chain underneath.
"Thank you," Rachel wrapped her arms around Quinn's neck and pulled the latter into an embrace. She then turned away from the blonde and held the two ends of the chain around her neck, the locket dangling in the center.
Quinn answered the silent request, taking the two ends and fastening them together to form a secure loop around Rachel's neck. "It's beautiful," Rachel breathed, studying the locket in her hands.
"You are beautiful," Quinn countered, reveling in the blush she caused. The blonde wrapped toned arms around Rachel's slim waist, pulling the latter to rest on the former's chest, the former resting a head on the latter's shoulder.
"With this," Rachel started, holding up the locket in her hand, "I will never forget you."
"Do you promise?"
She turned and pressed her lips onto the blonde's, sealing the deal with a kiss, "I already did."