Thanks for four reviews goes to : Dead Cheerleader, aimeram, simplegrl007, and ConfusedFaerie, thanks you guys!!! Hope to read more helpful comments from you :)Dont own anything at all.


Somewhere dirty

Dont own anything at all. Somewhere dirty

Sometime sunny

Well. This is it then.

This is how it's going to end, the death of the lovely Princess Kiara.

Stuck in a dirty-vile-damp-horrid dungeon. A dungeon!

Did I mention its rat infested? No really, Diary, it is. When I came to consciousness laying on a lovely little bed of suspiciously moldy…something, the scuffling noises of RATS was what I heard.

So of course, that's why my life is going to end. It's very simple really.

Rats + Kiara Death of someone/thing preferably the rats but most probably Kiara.

Aren't I just a little ray of sunshine?

Ok, ok, I should at least try and be optimistic. I mean, the chances of me being rescued from a tiny cell in someplace-I-don't-know-where while my parents enjoy the very party I was meant to host are…hmmm….let me think….

ZERO.

There is zero chance of me being rescued. Period.

It's a good thing I'm so calm. I'm not panicking, not screaming, just calmly sitting here on this lump of moldy blankets in my stupid turquoise dress which I don't even like and writing to You.

Yes, I have decided to give You an identity. It is slightly, though not much by all means, comforting to know that an inanimate object is at least aware of my plight. Now if I just alert the Royal Army we might be getting somewhere….

Same unknown place

Half hour later

This horrible old man just came in carrying a pail about three minutes ago. I think they sent him to feed the animals in this cell.

Haha.

Anyways, he actually gave me some hope that someone might be coming to tell me what, exactly, I'm being imprisoned for.

So he hobbles in, and leers at me, and I'm trying to be as prim and dignified as the situation allows. I sat there with my legs tucked beneath me and my back ramrod straight.

My etiquette instructor back home would have been proud to see that my manners were put to use so beautifully for a jailer.

But I don't really think he really cared about my posture; he just came in, dumped the pail in a dark corner away from me, and then came closer and closer to me…

I gave him a look which clearly showed him how not impressed I was, and then went back to diligently pretending I was writing to you while really I was watching him inch closer and closer to me.

'The master wishes you to eat, Princess.' He rasped, still to close for comfort.

I said nothing.

'He wouldn't like to see you…ravished with hunger.' He said, taking delight in speaking as sinisterly as possible.

'Well that's his bloody problem; I'm not eating your slop!'

Aren't I just the perfect guest?

He just laughed, giving me a much unwanted view of his yellowing teeth. And then he left.

Look, I'm only trembling cause it's cold, ok?

I don't get scared.

Where do you think?

About two hours later.

So I realized soon enough that trying to pick your nails clean or pace around in circles does get tedious after awhile. So of course, I did the classic 'Let me out, LET ME OUT OR YOU'LL BLOODY PAY'-While-effectively-banging-on-the-doors-and-stomping-your-feet routine that is must for all new prisoners, according to the manual page three (ha) but all I got out of it was raw hands.

And then I had the bright idea to look up and saw that my dungeon was actually one of a set of dungeons - one ofthe four walls only went up three quarters. There was huge hollow space which, I imagined, would give a person a good view of the adjoining dungeon if he or she climbed up onto the wall. The area of the floor was actually very less but the walls were high. I presumed there was someone on the other adjoining dungeon so I did my best to be neighborly and yell to them but all I got in response was a rather anguished yell to shut up.

Anyway, after feeling so wonderfully encouraged I just decided on trying to find materials to climb the wall. Look, not my brightest idea, ok? But someone very smart and famous once said 'Play to your strengths.'

If only I could remember who…

But that (don't laugh) didn't wok either and after briefly inspecting the brown contents of the pail I gave up and plunked back down on the 'blankets'.

My father would have sent out the strongest armies, and his fastest men despite the fact I'm perfectly capable of escaping this ridiculous prison myself. But then, my father always did think women were weak helpless creatures.

I swear, sometimes I feel like my parents have never even met me!

Oh. Someone is knocking again. Ha, as if I would have the right to refuse them entry if wished! Isn't ironic that someone is knocking on a door locked from the outside?

The people here don't seem to be very bright: first the jailer, then the prisoner next door who refuses to co-operate and help me escape this wretched place, and now this imbecile knocking –

Oh. He's only checking if I'm properly dressed because 'he wouldn't dare intrude on a lady dressing.' Yeah right. His words, not mine.

He wants me to go with him to whoever ordered my capture. He seems infinitely more humane then the jailer. He's one of the pageboys, I think, and rather timid and shy. He could be useful…

We shall see.

Back in jail

About 5 PM, I should think

Well. That did NOT go as planned. Not to my plan, nor to Jasper's. And even though I'm infinitely less bored since I have a great opportunity of escaping, I'm still not 100 FREE. Yet. This means, of course, I have a lot of work left to do.

I'm sure you're very confused and have no idea what I'm going on about, right?

Well I'll start from the beginning. The pageboy, who was about a year older to me and as I correctly presumed, a shy and easily frightened ass.

We walked in relative silence through the castle, which I instantly recognized as the famous Fortress of Derudia, a massive building made of entirely blood-red stone; it's very famous for the color. Folklore claims that it's the blood of their ancestors who won the War of Contrii 300 years go, where they died fighting a noble death and, are till today, guarding the Royal Family by the essence that remains in the walls.

Of course, I had to thank my governess for all this information; the pageboy had nothing interesting nor remotely useful to contribute one way or another.

At least until I tried my intimidation tactics on him.

'So, what your name?' I began sweetly. He turned red and walked faster.

'Carl. Well, it's really Carl Junior if you think about it. But it's only me father's middle-'

'I see'. I interrupted him quickly. 'I'm Kiara. It's a pleasure to meet you, Carl, or Carl Jr.' I flashed him a smile. He nearly missed his step.

'It's mighty cold in here, no?' I said conversationally. I hate the cold, 'I mean, for April.'

'Yes. Are you quite comfortable, though?' He said, almost dazedly, completely charmed by my beauty. I hope. The shy, retrovert attitude was gone and a mellow resistance remained. 'Of course.' NOT. I live in a dungeon, what does he think?!

'So where exactly are we headed?'

'I – can't say. I'm terribly sorry-' What a wuss.

'It's quite alright, you're only doing your job.' I sighed dramatically. 'It's just, with these horrible handcuffs, I feel like…like a-' Here, I sniffled for good measure. 'I feel like a criminal.'

'Aww, miss, don't be that way, he said uneasily. 'If there is anything I can get you…' We turned into another hallway and down a set of stairs.

'Well…there is one thing. Could you at least remove these handcuffs? I'd feel so much better. Please?' I stared at him imploringly and turned on the famous Kiara puppy-dog eyes charm.

He hesitated, and then pulled out a set of three keys.

Score!

Approximately seven minutes later the pageboy was handcuffed around his ankles with my handkerchief serving as a gag. I was breathing a little heavier, but he had proved quite an easy fight.

Women are so underestimated.

000

Ok, so I felt bad for the pageboy. He'd be severely punished. So I decided to at least hide him so no one would find him and he'd have time to make up a suitable story so that he sounded at least a little more heroic then he did in real life. I mean, he actually squealed when I knocked him down. For goodness's sake, man, show a little backbone! I have yet to find a man who can do a woman's job, yet all the woman I know could do any man's job, such as rule a kingdom or something else equally trival. Its common knowledge my father is only a name – the real power is Mother.

Anyways, back to the matter at hand.

I wandered the castle for about two hours, spying on the servants, climbing on to the pillars in the main hall and eavesdropping. I didn't attract attention, thankfully. I must say, the guards are awfully slow on the uptake. Whomever sent for me mustn't have wanted me that badly because there was no signs of anyone searching for an escaped prisoner.

And then finally I found myself back to the dungeons. I had been wandering the hallways till I descended about three levels of creaky staircases. They led to a dark, creepy hallway lied with dungeons, exactly the same place the pageboy had led me out of. Again, I heard the agonized yells coming, louder and louder.

And so I made a decision, based on the information I got from those yells…anyone in that much pain would do anything to make it stop. Right?

000

And that's here is where my plan went all wrong. My lovely friend the jailer made an appearance again. I was just standing there in the shadows, contemplating how I was going to use the tortured man in the cell beside me as my secret weapon out, when all of a sudden, someone was coming through the hallways.

'Come out, come out wherever you, are, dearie…The entire castle is in uproar but no one listens to old Ricasso, Ricasso knows the filthy little maiden will be where she belongs, back home In her dungeon…come out come wherever you are…' He walked by so close to where I was standing I could smell the dung odor waves hitting my nose.

What a lovely way to spend my birthday, I thought. And then, it really did begin to smell bad. Really, really, bad, and I had an awful urge to sneeze.

'A-Ah-AHCHOOOO!' I exploded and the sound echoed around the high prison walls. And before I could say excuse me, the jailer was upon me and a sack was thrown upon my head. Needless to say, I twisted and yelled for all I was worth, but he kept pushing and prodding till I just had to stop and let him lead me like some kind of pack animal.

And when he finally walked me through what I suspect is the main hall, where I was before, he led me into a darkly lit room where he finally allowed me to pull the burlap sack up and over my head, and pushed me into a chair. It was all happening so fast my head was spinning, so it took me a few moments to get my bearings.

I was in a small, round, darkly lit room. A fireplace was at one end, and various armchairs were scattered about. I guess it was rather cozy, in some ways, if it wasn't for the ominous dark profile of a man standing with his back facing me in front of the fireplace. The jailer produced another pair of (thicker, I noticed) handcuffs and attached my wrist to the arm chair. He pushed back his greasy hair, his chest heaving from the exertion. 'I have the little wench your Majesty. Put up quite a little fight, she did. If I was you I'd give her a flogging like she –'

'If that is all, then Ricasso, you may leave.' It was not a request issuing coldly from the man. I couldn't help it, Diary, I felt my heartbeat grow faster. Much faster.

Ricasso muttered something, twisted his hands, gave me wonderfully lovely glare as goodbye, and left. What a sad, sad little man.

The man in dark profile turned around, and his face was still in shadow, but I didn't need to see his face to know that if he was, indeed, who I thought he was, I was in big trouble.

The King of Derudia, you see, doesn't accept no for an answer.

And I had a pretty clear idea of what he was going to ask me.


Author's Note: Thanks so much to all who have reviewed! I really don't enjoy much the first chapters of a story but now it begins to get interesting. This chapter was a little dodgy in terms of pace, and I just want make it clear that this is still in the diary entry where she is writing from her jail cell.

I will pick up from here next time.

Until then, drive safely (sorry, too many accidents on the roads this week) and REVIEW!!!

They really do make me type faster and I nearly scared my entire family last time I read all the lovely 4 reviews I received. Thank you, thank you!!!!