The closer they got to Holmes Castle, the more apprehensive Princess Molly became.

Her step-father spent almost the entire journey instructing her how to behave. She was to be meek, submissive and deferential to the king, as befitted all women. She was to address him as "Your Majesty" in public and do whatever he asked.

Molly was discovering more clearly what a tyrant Culverton Smith really was. He gloated constantly about how clever he had been. To offer her as a bride to King Mycroft, and how much wealth he would acquire as a result. The way he spoke made the princess realize how tormented her mother must be, from having the perfect love and marriage, to being abused by a sick, vindictive man who took pleasure in inflicting pain on others.

The princess had seen that she and her mother were by no means his only victims as well. At one point, they had stopped for a meal at a posting inn. When the coachmen was two minutes late in returning to the carriage, the prince had taken out his whip and struck the man twice around the shoulders snarling, "Perhaps that will teach you to be punctual in future."

The prince had a vile temper and Princess Molly felt as if she must constantly tiptoe around her step-father, in order to not incur his wrath. She was disappointed that her lady's maid was not permitted to travel with them, but was in the second carriage with the prince's valet, which also contained their luggage, most of which belonged to the prince. In a way though, the princess thought drearily, it was as well that Kaitlyn was not in the same carriage. Who knew if her vile step-father might decide to turn his sadistic intentions upon her?

As it was, Molly had twice more been subjected to painful blows by her step-father's whip, just for "speaking out of turn." Both times she had merely requested more information about her future husband. It seemed however, her best option was to remain silent. She would find out those things when they arrived at the castle.

Just as the princess grew more travel weary as time passed, so did the man traveling with her. It was therefore, in the end, somewhat of a relief to finally reach their destination.

One of the outriders had been sent ahead to inform the royal household of their impending arrival. The princess was certain her step-father was looking forward to being treated with respect from another royal family. After all, he would become the "father-in-law," as it were, of a king. The reflected glory would make him even more pompous and self-important than he already was.

It was with a feeling of trepidation that the princess felt the carriage finally pulling to a stop in front of the castle. Molly had spent some time gazing out of the window of the carriage as the castle came into sight. It was a beautiful, if imposing sight. Holmes Castle was much larger than the castle in which she had grown up. Of course, Bartonia was a much smaller kingdom than that of Bakeristan, with fewer subjects.

The princess knew about the larger kingdom, at least to some extent. As part of her education she had learned about the neighbouring countries, and their various forms of government. She was familiar with the name King Mycroft, who had been the ruler for ten years. In fact, it was rather surprising he had not taken a wife before this. She also had a vague notion that there was a younger brother.

The door of the carriage was pulled open and Prince Culverton alighted first. Then, the coachman helped Princess Molly out of the carriage. She climbed out, feeling stiffness in her shoulders and a stinging sensation along her back, where her healing wounds had been chafing for so long in her travelling gown.

As she finally stepped to the ground, she kept her head down, as her step-father had instructed. She was not to lift her head until the prince introduced her to her husband-to-be.

As she had alighted from the carriage, the princess had afforded herself a quick glance at the waiting entourage. There seemed to be a large one, probably mostly consisting of the king's advisors, but she had not had a proper glimpse of anyone before lowering her eyes.

The princess followed in the prince's wake until he stopped. She too halted and waited.

'"Your Majesty," said Prince Culverton in an obsequious tone. "I am Prince Culverton. May I introduce you to my daughter, Princess Amelia von Hooperstein?"

You are not my father, thought Molly bitterly. You are my step-father. He probably thought it sounded more paternal to refer to her as his daughter.

Molly raised her eyes to look upon the King's countenance for the first time. He was tall, but not particularly handsome. His hair was already thinning on top slightly and he had a broad nose. He had kind eyes however.

She dropped a deep curtsey. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Your Majesty."

As she rose, the king took her hand and lifted it to his lips for a perfunctory kiss. "I am pleased to meet you as well, Princess Amelia. How was your journey?"

Although she would have liked to tell him the journey had been long and uncomfortable, her step-father had informed her she must never show any sign of disagreeableness or annoyance. Therefore she replied with a, "Very good, Your Majesty," and a forced smile.

To her surprise, the king said, "Now may I present you to my brother, Prince William?" Another man, who had been standing to the side of, and slightly behind the king stepped for ward and bowed.

Her first glimpse was of a head of dark curly hair that fell across his forehead. As he raised his head she saw a pair of piercing blue-green eyes looking at her, and her heart lurched.

He was clearly the handsomest man she had ever seen, and it took her a few moments to regain her senses enough to curtsey to him, saying softly, "Your Highness."

"Princess," he murmured in a rich baritone that made a curious thrill run through her. Following his brother's lead, he raised her hand to his lips and she felt herself quiver slightly as his lips touched her skin.

He held her hand a little longer than necessary, but dropped it as soon as Prince Culverton broke in with, "A pleasure to meet you too, Prince William."

The prince inclined his head, then said, "My first name is William, but I have always gone by Sherlock, despite my brother's insistence on using my formal title when introducing me."

"Prince Sherlock, then," agreed the princess's step-father a little too heartily.

Princess Molly's attention returned to King Mycroft as he spoke. "I regret to inform you, Princess Amelia, that I must leave for a few days to take care of some urgent business in the north. I am, however, leaving you in good hands. My brother, William - or Sherlock if you prefer," he indicated his brother, "has agreed to look to your welfare while I am absent."

Princess Molly looked over again at the prince. He was still staring at her, as if he could see through her, and she felt vaguely uncomfortable. His eyes were so incredible, and those full, sensual lips...she caught herself suddenly. That was a very bad idea. She definitely did not need to complicate her life further by developing an attraction for the man who was to be her brother-in-law.

"Thank you for telling me, Your Majesty," she said, curtseying once again to her prospective bridegroom. "I wish you Godspeed and a safe return."

"Thank you." The king bowed and turned away. He headed straight for a carriage the princess had not noticed before, that bore the Royal emblem of Bakeristan,apparently to begin his journey immediately. Prince Sherlock was the only person to remain, obviously to show her into the castle, along with her step-father.

"Would you both come with me? I am sure you must be fatigued after your journey. I will show you to the bedchambers which have been prepared for you," said the prince courteously , gesturing for Prince Culverton to precede him. As for the princess, he laid a gentle hand against her waist, to guide her towards the entrance of the castle.

Princess Molly looked at him. He was still looking at her, and she blushed at his assessing gaze. "My lady's maid should be arriving with Prince Culverton's valet shortly. Will there be someone available to gain them entrance?"

"Of course. I shall speak to the butler as soon as we enter the castle."

As the trio reached the huge doors of the castle, they opened. The butler stood waiting.

After the three entered, Prince Sherlock said, "Please allow me a moment to speak with the butler."

He gave quick instructions that a watch was to be kept for the second carriage, and that the lady's maid and valet were to be shown to the servants' quarters upon arrival. They would be informed about which bell corresponded to their master or mistress's bedchamber.

The young prince then turned towards the travel weary pair. "Until your servants arrive, I will send someone up to your bedchambers to tend to you. You may wish to have a rest before luncheon as well."

Leading the pair upstairs, Prince Sherlock showed them to the east wing where there were several bedchambers. There was one which had been prepared for Prince Culverton's arrival.

Prince Sherlock opened the door to the chamber and indicated that the older man should enter. "I hope you will be comfortable here. I will send somebody up to help you undress as soon as I have taken the princess to her bedchamber."

Molly had a glimpse of a very large room, in which a fire was burning. It appeared to be the same size as that of the chambers in her family's castle.

Almost as if he expected the princess to behave badly once he was out of her sight, Prince Culverton said, "Don't forget your lessons, Amelia. I would not like to have to repeat them to you," before entering his bedchamber and closing the door.

The princess shuddered involuntarily at the words. She knew her step-father's "lessons" would consist of more lashes with his whip, or perhaps a thin stick that would sting but not leave an outward sign on her gown.

The young prince apparently had noticed her shudder for he asked, "Are you unwell, Princess Amelia? Are you finding the castle to be too cold for your liking? I will make sure the fire is stoked in your bedchamber."

"I am perfectly fine," assured the princess. "I am rather fatigued however, as you surmised. Such a long journey is quite arduous and wearing on the constitution."

They were moving towards what Molly perceived to be the west wing as they spoke. She glanced at the prince again shyly, only to find him once again looking at her intently. It was quite unnerving. She wondered if perhaps she had a smudge on her cheek, or some such thing at which he was staring, and suddenly felt self-conscious. It was amazing how he could walk to where he needed to go, without taking his eyes off her.

As they reached the wing, Prince Sherlock indicated a chamber to her left. "This will become your bedchamber once you are married. It connects with the king's room next door, of course. My mother currently occupies it, but will move to another room soon." He walked further along the corridor., indicating a room on the other side. "That is my bedchamber, should you have urgent need of me."

He stopped at the door beyond. "This is your temporary bedchamber. It is the most luxurious of the unoccupied chambers. Although it actually has a communicating door to my own bedchamber, the door will be locked of course. The key for the door is in the drawer of your dressing table in case of an emergency."

The prince opened the door to the bedchamber and Princess Molly gasped. It was bigger than her own bedchamber in Bartonia, and much more luxurious. There was a canopy bed with ornate hangings draped over it, which could be drawn together. A fire was also burning brightly, the warmth of which Moly felt immediately. She hadn't realized it before, but she did feel somewhat chilled, and she moved closer towards it, with her fingers held out towards its warmth.

She turned back towards the young prince and said, "Thank you, Prince...Sherlock. I will certainly be most comfortable here."

"I will go downstairs now and procure a temporary maid for you, Princess Amelia," he said, bowing again.

"Please, would you call me Molly? I detest being called Amelia in private company. I would however ask that you refer to me as Princess Amelia in public...and of course, when my step-father is around."

"I do not hold with formal terms of address outside social situations. I should be most gratified if you would call me Sherlock in private company."

"Very well...Sherlock. I must not be so informal in the presence of my step-father, however. He would not be pleased."

The prince nodded. "Very well, Molly. I will see you at luncheon." He bowed to her, then took her hand, lifting it to his lips once again. That same curious sensation, that tingle, crept through her body at his touch, and she snatched her hand away before he could notice it tremble.

"My thanks once again, Sherlock," she said, bobbing a small curtsey. He appeared somewhat taken aback by the way she had removed her hand from his so abruptly, but he said nothing, merely nodding before he left her bedchamber.

Once he had gone, Molly waited for a maid to come upstairs to assist her. She sat at the dressing table and thought about the events of the past hour. It had not at all been what she expected.

King Mycroft seemed amiable enough, kind even, although he definitely seemed to be in a rush to leave. She wondered what it would be like to be married to him, to have his lips on hers. Involuntarily she shivered. He was undoubtedly well versed in the art of pleasing a woman. At his age he would have had many mistresses. She wondered if he would continue to keep one if they were married. It was common practice for men to have wives to bear children, yet mistresses to warm their bed at night.

Could she be with a man who viewed her only as a vessel from which to produce his heirs? The princess definitely did not want to take that course, although she feared her step-father's retribution should she try and break the betrothal once it was official. Prince Culverton would definitely come after her if she tried to escape. She was his ticket to more wealth, and to be the father-in-law, so to speak, of a king. She was trapped, Molly thought despairingly.

The big surprise however was Prince Sherlock. He and his brother were so different physically. He was tall, like his brother, but that was where the resemblance ended. The prince had the high cheekbones of royalty, while the king's were not as chiseled. The king had quite a large nose, while Prince Sherlock's was thinner and, dare she say it, more aristocratic. The king's hair was thinning which gave him a very broad forehead. Prince Sherlock certainly did not lack for hair. In fact, it was rather endearing the way it curled over his forehead, which was most certainly not a fashionable way to keep it.

Then there were Prince Sherlock's lips. She suddenly wondered what it would be like to feel his lips on hers, rather than those of the king. This time the shiver that passed through the princess was a pleasant one. It frightened her. She had a feeling that the prince could be a distraction, if she allowed him to be, but at what cost? If she reacted with a tingling sensation from the touch of his lips on her hand, how much stronger would that sensation be on her lips?

A maid entered the room just then. She assisted Molly to undress, exclaiming at the scars Molly had on her back. The princess worried that the maid might disclose the news of the state of her back, so she pleaded that the woman keep her secret. The maid agreed not to say anything, but the princess did not know if she was truly trustworthy.

The woman gave her a nightgown to wear, which had been in a drawer of the dressing table. Of course, once the second carriage arrived, the princess would have her own to wear. With only four horses drawing the second carriage, rather than the six for the lead one, it would undoubtedly not arrive until some time after luncheon, and Molly wondered whether she would have to redress in her travelling gown.

After the maid left, Molly walked to the wardrobe and opened it, curious as to whether it was empty. In fact, it was not. Three gowns were there, a morning one, a day gown, and an evening one. They appeared to be in the latest fashion and were apparently new. They must be the first gowns to be made for her trousseau. To have three gowns in the space of two days would have been a miraculous feat, and the princess felt sorry for the seamstresses who must have spent endless hours on sewing the gowns for her. It was a welcome sight however. At least she would have a clean gown for luncheon.

The princess inspected the rest of the bedchamber, finding, as Prince Sherlock had said, a key to the communicating door in the top drawer of the dressing table. There was also a full length looking glass and a writing desk. Molly thought she might perhaps send a letter to her mother if she had time.

For now though, she decided she needed her rest and climbed into the canopy bed. Within two minutes she was asleep.


Author's note: What did you think of Molly's first meeting with Sherlock? How long do you think it will be until they fall in love?