Wow! Me? Continuing this? Impressive.

I still barely know where this story is going...

Welcome back to Royalsies, everyone.

Review Responses:

JustVildaPotter: Yes, Albert most certainly would be in jail. And he is, constantly.

isntthatagreatname: Of course no one wants to marry Race. That would be nothing short of CRAZY if someone did...

And here we go.

Chapter Two

Not one of the three royal siblings were paying attention to their lesson. Jack was sketching away on his parchment, Race was ripping his into pieces, and Smalls was staring out the window, willing the sun to move faster across the sky. The sooner she could get out of this dress and into more comfortable attire, the happier she would be.

Not that she made a point to often think about the weather, but outside looked lovely at this moment. Smalls longed to escape the stuffy room and go wander the grounds instead; maybe lay in some grass or even go riding. She wasn't particularly good at horseback riding, but the palace Palominos were the best around, and Jack would most likely go with her if she decided she wanted company. With the guests scheduled to arrive tomorrow being who they were, Smalls knew her oldest brother had to be feeling just as confined as she was. It would be best for both of them to get as much fresh air as they could before the proverbial storm blew in.

But no. They were stuck to endure etiquette lessons. For ten years now, they had all been crown princes and princess of the Roosevelt Kingdom, but the palace staff still thought of them as the unruly, unsophisticated children they had been right after the wedding and coronation. To be fair, Jack, Race, and Smalls could still cause chaos when they wanted to, but they also knew how to compose themselves and act like civilized members of court. For crying out loud, Smalls was eighteen! She only rarely got confused as to which forks were for what anymore; she knew all she needed to know!

"Princess Agnes?" The instructor inquired, and Smalls cringed. She despised her real name. Everyone knew it. "Are you following?"

"Yes ma'am," Smalls said, even though she didn't want to be. But it would probably be best if she pretended to pay attention for the rest of the lesson.

"You had better be," admonished her instructor, "this is your last chance to prepare before tomorrow."

Jack laced his hands and stretched them above his head, muttering, "We been prepared for weeks already, what more is there ta learn?"

"Perhaps the words 'we've' and 'to' would be of use to you, Prince Francis."

At that, Race leaned back in his chair, curled a fist in front of his mouth, and made an "Ooooooh!" sound. Jack reached over to smack him upside the head, but their desks were spaced too far apart, and Race dodged.

"Yeah Francis, c'mon," said Smalls, easily slipping back into her commoner accent. "You's gotta learn dat grammar." It was highly satisfying to watch their teacher flinch at how improper her words were, so she went on, "But Jack's right. There ain't nothin' more fer us ta learn."

Although the instructor looked like she wanted to hit Smalls over the head with a thick grammar book, she sighed. "Very well. You may all be excused."

That was as much invitation as it took for the trio of siblings to bolt from their chairs, Jack snatching his sketch-covered parchment from his desk as he made his exit. Smalls led the dash into the hall, and once they were standing on plush carpet rather than polished wood, she posed the question. "Where are we goin' today?"

"Kitchens!" Race suggested, already eager to run off in that direction.

"Boring!" Smalls protested, "How can ya think about food when we've only got one day a' freedom left?"

"Because I got all the freedom I want, unlike youse." With that remark, Race sprinted down the hall.

"Oh, rub it in!" Smalls yelled at his retreating back. When he had disappeared, she asked, "Jack? Wanna go riding?"

He took a minute to respond, as he was preoccupied with rolling up his sketches and stowing them in the satchel hanging off his shoulder. "Sorry, Annie, no. I wanna head down ta visit Charlie. 'Cause like ya said, it's our last day a' freedom."

Charlie was Jack's best friend, and had been even before he became a prince. Smalls knew better than to prevent their alone time, but she couldn't help complaining even so. "Jus' bring 'im here ta the palace already! Ya love the kid so much, why don'tcha-"

"Ya know I would if I could. But he ain't allowed, an' he's got his life already, I can't pull him away without-"

"Yeah, you've told me." She swatted Jack's shoulder. "Go see yer boy then."

Jack ruffled her hair. "Sorry ta abandon you, but I'm sure you'll find somethin' ta do, won'tcha?"

"There's always something."

"That's my girl." Jack jogged off, leaving Smalls to venture to the stables on her own.

Thomas the stable boy was the only person there when she arrived. He bowed to Smalls in greeting. "Afternoon, princess."

"Hey, Tommy Boy. Get me saddled up?"

"Sure thing."

Thomas was almost finished with completing her instruction when Smalls realized she was still in a dress. That wasn't ideal for riding in, but the idea of going all the way back to the palace just to change did not appeal to her. Even with the awkwardness that came with arranging herself on the horse's back while wearing such fancy attire, she decided not making things easier for herself was going to be a form of protest against the gowns she hated. So what if this dress got messy? She had dozens of others.

Smalls' ride across the palace grounds went by peacefully until she reached the surrounding patch of forest. Nothing good ever happened in a forest, but Smalls had entered several times before without fear, and she wasn't about to be a coward now.

The rustling of bushes around her hardly caused a flinch, and though there were a few moments where she felt like she'd glimpsed human figures in the trees, she thought nothing of it. She was a princess, but she knew how to defend herself. Whatever happened, she was going to be fine.

Neither the way she jumped out of her skin when someone from the trees landed behind her on the horse, nor the way she screamed when that same person placed a sack over her head had anything to do with her bravery.

That was just reflexes.

Review if you will! Say anything you want to! Place your bets on what the heck is going on, and all that jazz!

Now farewell, until next time.