It had been a year since the princes of the Mystic Underground had vanished, a year since the bereft queen had sent out soldiers to search every corner of the earth. They dreaded to find bodies, but as the search dragged on, it remained to be seen what was more painful; to mourn and move on, or to live each day with hope just out of reach. Queen Aleena refused to hold a funeral so long as that hope remained, but for each citizen who prayed for the princes' safe return, there was another who prayed that their souls would know peace.
Princess Sally did not know which to pray for. As heir to the throne of the Oaken Weald, the lost princes were not her superiors, but her friends. When they were young and the peace was stable, Sally and Queen Aleena's children—Sonic, Manic, and their sister Sonia—would play hide and seek at royal celebrations. When the servants tried to find them for bedtime, the game only became more exciting. When Sally was a teenager, she wondered which one of them she would marry. She always found herself torn between Sonia's poise and grace and Sonic's sparkling smile. When the relationship between the two nations grew tense, they stole snatches of conversation between diplomatic meetings. Even as the peace threatened to crumble around them, Sonic had always smiled for her.
It had been a year since anyone had seen that smile. But life went on. Sally could not bring back the princes, but she did what she could to hold the peace together. She counted it as a good omen that Princess Sonia had agreed to attend a noble gala in the heart of the Weald. Sally greeted Sonia when she arrived at Castle Acorn. The crown princess of the Underground was beautiful and cold, her dress shimmering like the enchanted crystals that lit up the caverns of her homeland. Her smile was polished, but did not reach her eyes. Sally did not fault her for grieving, with the princes lost and the queen's health failing. Instead, Sally hoped to be a glimmer of light, brightening the lonely princess's spirits, if only for one night. They danced, drank, and debated the finer points of international policy, and Sally's heart turned over in her chest every time Sonia's eyes glimmered with sincere delight.
Pleasantly tipsy, her hand on Sonia's arm, Sally escorted the princess of the Underground out of the banquet hall and into the parlor. They were joined by a small group, members of the Weald Council and a few prominent foreign dignitaries. At the center of the gathering was the Regent, appointed by the late king to rule until Sally came of age. Robotnik had been a trusted friend of Sally's father since long before she was born, and for years she had extended him the same trust, even when she chafed against his authority. He had never ceased to speak to her as if she was simply a little girl trying to play politics, and interrupting the real politicians in the process. He'd never had children, and never expected to become Sally's primary guardian and mentor throughout her teen years. They were each an unwanted intrusion on the other's life, but they had made it this far, for better or worse.
"My dear Princess Sally," Robotnik said. The warmth in his voice was a facade for the benefit of the aristocracy; it did not fool Sally, nor did it need to. He was not her father, and she had long since given up on any desire for his approval. "And Princess Sonia. We are honored by your presence."
Sonia dipped her head in a curtsy, polite but aloof. Her greeting, as well, showed the proper respect, but no more than that. Sally did not blame her. Robotnik had never been much of a politician; clever, but lacking in charm. Perhaps Sally should not judge. She had often been accused of being distant, prone to scorning social niceties that her peers valued but that she considered meaningless. Then again, whenever Sonia looked at her with real fondness shining through the cracks of a diplomat's mask, Sally felt as if all of her flaws were worthwhile, if they made her the type of person that Sonia could admire.
"The absence of His Majesty still aches," Robotnik said. "He was a beloved ruler, and my dear friend. But with each year that passes, I find that the ache becomes more bearable." The nobles gathered in the room, particularly those from the Weald, bowed their heads. Sonia laid a hand on Sally's arm, and Sally offered her a soft smile. It didn't feel quite right; surely Sonia's grief was more bitter, with neither time nor closure to soothe the injury. Even still, she was willing to comfort Sally in her moment of silence.
"With each year that passes," Robotnik continued. "Princess Sally becomes more and more like her father. I know that when she is ready to take the throne next year, she will rule with wisdom and grace. All I desire is to lay a strong foundation, that Her Royal Highness may inherit a nation that can stand firm and face any challenge." Any challenge? Sally wondered what challenges the Regent foresaw. Every nation had its struggles; the hungry needed to be fed, the injured needed to be healed, the wicked needed to be punished. Even now there were conflicts along the southern border as the new King of the Badlands spread his wings, and for years there had been tense discussions with the Underground concerning passage in and out of the mountains. But the Weald had enjoyed a long, peaceful respite, and Sally intended for that to continue.
"But tonight is a chance to celebrate. Our princess has recently entered her twentieth year. Next year she will receive her father's crown, and no gift can compare. Nevertheless, I hope she will enjoy the gift that I have for her tonight." Robotnik's gifts were a roll of the dice. Sally hoped for another book, as the volumes he had given her over the years had been quite illuminating on matters of science, history, and tactics. She assumed that in a worst case scenario it would be an expensive but useless trinket that she could quietly give away to someone who needed it more. She was wrong.
At Robotnik's signal, the parlor doors open, and in between two burly soldiers was a chained man. Several nobles gasped or cried out, their composure cracking like glass. Sally felt her breath turn to ice in her throat. She couldn't move, couldn't begin to unravel the terrible consequences of what she saw. Beside her, Sonia rose to her feet, her hands shaking, her eyes wide with horror and wrath.
"Her Royal Highness has never taken a personal slave," Robotnik said, grinning as if he did not notice—or took perverse delight in—the shocked faces of his company. "But of course she deserves only the best. I present to you a rare and precious prize, taken from the depths of the Underground."
The man was dressed as a slave—that is to say barely dressed at all. He was bare from the waist up, save for the heavy chains binding his wrists and the gold collar locked around his neck. His face was painted like a slave's; his eyes outlined with kohl, his cheeks dusted with rouge and flecks of gold. He was no slave. He strained against his bonds and the grip of the soldiers, his eyes frantic, fixed on one person. "Sonia—!" Prince Sonic called out, before a soldier struck him and ordered him to be quiet.
Sally tore her eyes away from the bound prince to his sister. Sonia's face was flushed with rage, her hand clutching her wine glass as if it was a weapon. Sally would not have been surprised to see her leap across the room and flay Robotnik alive. When she spoke, her voice was quiet and steady, like the first rumbles of thunder before a vicious storm. "This is an act of war," she said.
"No," Robotnik said. "This will keep the peace. The Underground would not dare to endanger the lives of their princes."
In a single fluid movement, Sonia hurled her wine glass. It grazed Robotnik's cheek and shattered on the wall behind his head. The royal guard reached for their weapons, but Sonia turned, hiked up her skirts, and stormed out of the parlor. Sally reached out toward her, but was frozen in place by the force of Sonia's glare. The guard and dignitaries from the Underground followed their princess, and the door slammed shut with a sound that marked the moment the world would never be the same.
In the frigid silence that followed, only Sonic dared speak up. "She's going to burn this place to the ground," he said, before a brutal slap quieted him once more.
Robotnik waved his hand dismissively. "Bring him to Her Royal Highness's rooms," he commanded, and as they dragged Sonic away, Sally felt as if she was straddling a horse locked in a dead sprint toward the edge of the mountainside. She made a desperate grab for the reins.
"Robotnik," she said. "What have you done?"
Sonia hurried to the guest bedrooms, fearing what she would do if she acted in the heat of the moment. Oh, she longed to take her anger out on the first person who crossed her path, but she was no longer a child. The consequences of her actions would ripple across the nations, and she would not allow her people to suffer for her rash actions. Still, her patience was finite, and over and over again she heard Sonic's voice in her head. Sonic, calling out for her help, the first word he had spoken to her in a year. How had he suffered? Was he afraid? Her free-spirited brother didn't belong in chains. And where was Manic?
Sonia reached her rooms, slammed the door behind her. Bile rose in her throat, her wrath building like a chemical reaction she couldn't hope to contain. She clutched at her hair and screamed, a primal sound that took shape deep in her belly and clawed its way out of her throat. The silence in the aftermath was broken only by her heart pounding in her ears.
A hand came to rest on Sonia's shoulder. Amy Rose, captain of the Crown Guard, didn't ask if Sonia was okay. Neither of them were. Sonia didn't need to look to know that her grief would be reflected in the knight's eyes. "All this time," Sonia finally said. "All this fucking time. What kind of poisonous, backstabbing—"
"I'm sorry, milady," Amy said, and the sorrow in her voice clawed at Sonia's chest. Her dedication to the royal family had always gone beyond what was strictly professional, and she had been guarding Sonic when he vanished. She'd tried to give up her rank a year ago, but the queen would not hear of it.
"It's not your fault," Sonia said. It was as true then as it was in the past. "We have to bring them home. We finally have a chance to make things right."
"Absolutely not!" Sonia was accustomed to hearing that voice snivel and parley. The force with which he now spoke made her whip around, barely resisting the urge to give him hell. Bartleby met her gaze without flinching, although his face was flushed and his appearance was uncharacteristically ruffled. "Milady, if I may…"
"You may not!" Sonia said, purely out of habit. Bartleby continued without thinking twice.
"…If I may, we must leave immediately! If the Regent has the princes, who's to say this entire production isn't just a trap to capture you as well?"
"Are you suggesting, Bartleby MontClair," Sonia said, spitting each word as if it was poisonous. "That I abandon my brothers and return to the Underground with my tail between my legs?"
"Yes! My Princess, given the state of your mother's health, the nation is relying on you. What would we do if Robotnik imprisoned you as well?"
He was right. The knowledge made Sonia's blood run cold, her limbs feeling heavy and numb, even as her heart began to race with the knowledge that every moment wasted placed her and the princes in greater danger. Still, every fiber of her being rebelled at the idea of fleeing. How could she, when her brothers were relying on her for help? When this might be her only chance to unite their family once more?
Beside her, Amy's shoulders slumped as the terrible choice was made clear. "You heard what the Regent said. The princes are alive, for now. If we attempt a rescue…"
"Please, Sonia," Bartleby said. "We need your leadership."
Sonic and Manic were relying on her, but so was the nation. Although it felt like cutting off a limb, Sonia knew what she would have to do.
Hooves clattered against polished stone as Sonia drove her horse into the courtyard of Castle Acorn. When she spoke, her voice rang out clear as church bells, and they carried the authority of the crown. "Know this, Robotnik! This injury will not go unanswered. The Underground will not rest until you have suffered as we have!"
The gathered audience parted, narrowly avoiding a trampling from Sonia's steed. The princess and her entourage vanished into the night, and any who attempted to stop them would answer to Amy Rose.