The day Adele left, Markl was not there to say goodbye. The night before, he had taken off with a solemn look and a request to Adele to be good, and write him if she was able. Adele hadn't spoken much to her parents, either, since Howl had returned from his mission to report that the prince was willing to look after the young witch.
Adele stood upon the balcony, sadly watching the grass and flowers passing below her. She'd put on her best dress- a simple cotton gown of red fabric with embroidered flowers patterned about the hem of the skirt. Rather than her usual hat, she had tied a bonnet with a deep crimson ribbon to her dark brown locks, which she had twisted into a long braid down her back. Her emerald pendant, a gift from her father when she was young, was tucked beneath her collar protectively.
Her blue eyes, however, were steely as she looked out at the Wastes for what could be the last time in months. At least until the turnip-faced prince found a suitable bride and took his proper place as king, finally having power to send the military forces after the criminals that had crawled up from their holes to prey on the innocent.
Again, Adele pondered the possibility of running away. But that would worry her parents so; as much as they had angered her, she didn't want to make them worry.
"Adele!"
She sighed, turning to go inside. She knew what her mother was about to tell her. With slow and mournful tread, she went gracefully down the stairs. Her face was a flawless mask, behind which she hid all emotions that stirred her heart. Howl, she discovered, had barricaded himself in his room, leaving only Sophie to see Adele off.
The silver-haired woman stood near the door. The light outside was almost completely blocked by a broad-shouldered man who could be nothing but a soldier, sent to escort her back to the palace.
"Where's dad?" Adele asked nonetheless, feeling hurt that he didn't come to say goodbye.
"Upstairs," Sophie said softly, "He told me to say goodbye to you for him."
Adele understood, looking with a cold glare at the soldier. Perhaps he was not one of the violent tormentors from her parents stories, but he would certainly bring back painful memories for Howl. Nevertheless, she straightened up and nodded respectively to the man.
"And Markl hasn't returned, either?" She requested, allowing a small shimmer of disappointment to show in her eyes."
"Afraid not, darling," Sophie replied with a sympathetic frown. The soldier grumbled impatiently, and Sophie added quickly, "You'd better be off, then."
"Of course, yes," Adele said monotonously, "Goodbye, then, mother. Please take care of the cat for me." She swept right through the door, not pausing to offer any affection to Sophie. She knew how much this would hurt her mother, and this knowledge both hurt and pleased her.
"This way, ma'am," the soldier said gruffly. Adele turned and noticed a second man, a much younger one, waiting as her escort as well. He appeared to be little older than she was, judging by his bright brown eyes and clean-shaven face. He offered a smile, but she did not return it, and began to walk impatiently towards the towering castle she could already spot ahead.
The soldiers fell into step beside her, assuring that she would not try to make an escape. Adele watched the people she passed, and took in that the royal city had been hit hard by the wave of crime and poverty. Homes had fallen into disrepair, and dirt-covered children watched from the shadows with sunken eyes. Adele heard her older escort mutter something about 'filthy pickpockets'.
A young boy rushed up to her, catching the hem of her skirt in one grimy hand. "Please miss," he pleaded, "Have you anything to offer?"
"Get away, boy!" the older man commanded, striking the street lad with the back of his hand. The child quickly scampered away to hide behind an older child, whose frigid grey eyes locked on Adele in a hateful glare. She quickly broke away from her escorts to approach the two boys. Reaching into the basket her mother had prepared for her, she pulled out several coins, and offered them to the pair.
"We don't need your charity," the taller boy barked, swatting her hand away. The deepness of his voice revealed that he was a boy of about eighteen. Adele's coins fell to the street with gentle clinks. She stooped down to pick them up, and this time offered them to the younger boy. He stared at her for a moment, before snatching the money and racing off. Adele straightened up.
"There's no shame in accepting help when you need it," she said calmly, locking her strikingly blue eyes on the dull grey ones of the street urchin. His expression remained unchanged.
"You've been no help," he replied bitterly, "Our lives remain unchanged. You're still a spoiled, rich little brat, living in luxury while the rest of us live in squalor."
Adele was taken aback. Her gentle eyes hardened, and the corners of her mouth turned down into a frown.
"Come along, Lady Adele," the younger soldier requested, gripping her arm. Adele obeyed, but her eyes remained fixed on the stranger's face. And until she turned out of sight, the pair continued to watch as the other grew further away.
"It's no use trying to help those street brats," one soldier warned as the castle gates loomed over them at last, "It's best to leave them be."
Adele did not answer. That boy had been pushed from her mind as they walked across the castle courtyard, growing closer to the doors. Her heart began to race as she glanced about, recalling the tales her father had told her about his imprisonment. She spotted the ominous-looking south tower where this Hell had been lived, and a chill ran through her body. She felt as though she were being delivered directly into the hands of the enemy.
The doors were opened for her, and she was swept into a huge foyer. A servant boy rushed off to summon the prince, and she was left alone in the large, over-polished space.
She felt increasingly out-of-place as she looked around. Tapestries hung on the walls, a massive crystal chandelier was suspended above her head, and she could see her reflection in the marble floors almost as clearly as though she'd been looking down into Star Lake.
She mindlessly began to wander around the large foyer, examining each tapestry. She craned her neck to admire the lavish chandelier, turning to analyze every angle of it.
It was nothing like the castle she had been born in. She missed it already as she stood uncomfortably in the middle of the royal foyer, longing to feel the cool grass between her toes again.
"A-hem."
She turned quickly, and found herself face-to-face with the man she's heard so many stories about. Unlike her parents, his eyes had grown dull and weary with the past seventeen years. Adele unconsciously took a step back, recalling what terrors this man had inflicted upon both her parents, and the woman whose name she now bore.
"So," the prince spoke, examining her with a critical eye, "This is the daughter of Miss Sophie Hatter and that wizard." He spat out the word as though it were a curse.
"So," Adele fired back, already annoyed by the tone the prince had regarded her father with, "This is the turnip-headed scarecrow."
The prince raised and eyebrow disapprovingly. Adele copied the movement, crossing her arms over her chest.
"You bear a striking resemblance to your father," Prince Justin remarked stonily, acknowledging her pale, beautiful face and vibrant blue eyes.
"Thank you," Adele replied bitter sweetly. She wanted to add that he bore a striking resemblance to the backside of a horse, but held her tongue.
"I expect you've inherited his 'talent' as well, yes?" the prince inquired. Adele understood what he meant and nodded stiffly. She expected a snide remark, but was met with none.
"Your room is upstairs," the prince said icily, motioning towards the luxurious staircase that led to the upper floors, "Your closet is already filled, you are expected to be dressed accordingly. Several maids have been placed to your command, they will help you dress. You are not to leave the castle grounds without an escort, or go into the south tower. Otherwise, you are free to explore as long as you stay out of trouble. Dinner is at seven, I expect you to be prompt and in proper attire."
He waved his hand in dismissal, but Adele remained for a moment, staring at him in blatant disbelief. She'd never been spoken to in such an ordering way. She felt like a servant rather than a guest. Grudgingly, she turned on her heel and stalked up the stairs. Once on the landing, a maid led her to her room.
The bedroom was the picture of luxury. A huge mirror hung on one wall, and a huge bouquet of pink roses had been placed in the vase on the night stand. The bed was heaped with pillows and blankets. Adele hated it already. Dismissing the maid, she stepped out onto the balcony, and leaned against it with a sad sigh. She wondered if she dared spread her wings and fly off, but recalled the prince's statement about her magical talents. No doubt he'd taken precautions to keep her captive.
Alone on her balcony, Adele slumped to the floor, hugged her knees to her chest, and began to weep. She was forced to reside with a man who already clearly hated her, kept away from all those she loved.
It was a different kind of Hell than that Howl had endured, but she expected it to be no less horrid.
