A/N: Thanks to everyone who reviewed. ^_^ Reviews give me motivation to write, so review people! FYI everything is connected to "Snow White", everything. I know I keep saying that but oh well. Yes, I know my story is a little slow right now, but just bear with me for just a few more chapters, then the "real" story will begin. If you think I should quicken the pace, review!
At first sightMost of the rooms in the West Wing were caked with dust, and were showing signs of neglect. The rooms were either empty or filled with old furniture and mindless junk that that the palace found no need for. She discovered ancient remnants of those who had lived before her time. She felt isolated and forgotten from the world, and she didn't mind much about it. In fact, to her dismay, she was beginning to enjoy her stay here at the palace. Four years had passed since she was forced to live in this "prison." At first queen came frequently to see how she was doing, but Evelyn constantly pushed the queen away and kept herself obscure. The queen's visits were becoming less frequent, and sometimes Evelyn wondered if the queen had forgotten about her. As the years passed by, Evelyn's loneliness took a hold of her. She sometimes questioned her desire to be isolated and forgotten. Was this what she had really wanted? The only human contact Evelyn barely had were the servants who cleaned her room, and brought her meals. They avoided speaking to her, for they feared her. She counted her days to her freedom, both hating it and desiring it. She spent most of her time wandering around the halls and rooms of the forgotten. The death of her father still haunted her, after five years. The images of his death could not be erased from her mind, as hard as she tried. Both night and day, she was awake, unable to sleep, afraid of her nightmares.
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"Your royal highnesses, may I present, your son, the royal prince Prince Tristan Aethelbert Landry of Alaster," sang the herald, with his melodic voice.
Tristan raised his eyebrow at the herald. "Honestly, Edward. There is no need to say my full name."
"Your home!" cried the queen. She ran to her son and embraced him.
"Mother, it has only been four years."
"And a long four years it has been, Tristan. Oh my, look at you! You've become a dashing young man."
"Geneva, you are suffocating the boy," said the king as he rose from his throne. "It is good to see you my son, I have heard you have done well in your studies."
"I hope I have made you proud, father."
"Of course, of course. Now there is the matter of marriage we must discu-"
"Please father, not today," interrupted Tristan, "I would like to see the palace. I haven't been here for so long."
"I see… Then we will discuss this matter after you are done exploring the palace, as you wish." Tristan nodded, and walked out of the throne room, dreading the discussion already. He was not betrothed at birth like his brother, prince Elidor, for he was the second child. His brother was to marry princess Morrigan of Ilithia. Both their kingdoms were close allies. They had wanted to strengthen their bond by the marriage of the young prince and the princess. However, fate would not let that be. The reason the prince, could not marry, was because there was something wrong with his mind. Elidor was a mute. He did not respond very quickly, and was considered slow. With Elidor, incapable of becoming king, the position as heir to the throne and the betrothal to Morrigan were given to Tristan, whether he liked it or not. To his luck though, his betrothal to princess Morrigan was to be forgotten, for she had run off with a poor duke. His parents, then had given him a decision to marry anyone he wished, as long as he did before his father died. With the pressure from his parents and the people of his kingdom, Tristan felt trapped and alone.
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Night had fallen, and the new moon was shining brightly. Tristan had planned to explore every bit of the palace, to avoid his discussion with his father about marriage. He had looked around the north, east, south and center wing. There was the west wing, but he was told that demons lurked in the dark and ate little children, when he was young. He took a step back and turned to go to his room.
But I am not a child anymore…
Tristan grinned and opened the door to enter the dark corridors of the west wing.
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The halls were dark, and there were cobwebs most everywhere. He felt like a demon would just jump up from nowhere, any second, but he repressed his fear and walked on down the halls. There was not much in any of the rooms to see, just junk and dust. He felt that he should go back, but a deep urge kept him going. He went up the stairs to see another hallway.
There is nothing here. Why am I still here?
He looked to the end of the hallway, to see that one door was slightly open.
That's odd, all the doors had been closed.
Tristan walked quietly to the end, and peeked through the door. He gasped to see a girl sitting by the window. The moon struck on her through the window, showing her lovely face. Her skin was pale, from the lack of sunlight, making her look fragile and delicate.
Surely, she must be a fairy, if not a ghost.
Her ethereal appearance took his breath away. Tristan felt his knees go weak, and he let his weight shift to the door. His legs gave away, and he fell down, opening the door further, with a crash.
"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to spy or anything," he said getting back up.
Her eyes were wide open, frightened by his intrusion. Tristan looked at her, and realized that he had startled her.
"I lack graces, I really hope I didn't scare you," he said with a smile on his face. Evelyn looked upon the young man's face. His golden hair, and tan skin was quite contrasting to her own appearance. He had a comely face, and his blue eyes were quite enchanting. He was quite attractive.
Tristan watched her as she studied his features. When their eyes met, she looked away, her cheeks blushing red.
"I'm sorry, where are my manners? My name is Tristan. May I ask for your name?"
"My name is Evelyn," she whispered softly. She felt strange emotions running inside her. Was it because she secretly longed companionship, or was it something else?
"Evelyn…such a pretty name," said Tristan as he looked around. "May I ask you why you are here? I mean I thought the west wing was abandoned…Are you a ghost?"
She looked at his face, and saw that he was serious. To her surprise, she let out a laugh and was unable to stop. She had not laughed for years, and she could not understand why she was now. Maybe it was the serious look on his face; whatever it was she could not stop.
Tristan looked at her not knowing whether he should be pleased to have amused her, or to feel stupid.
"So are you?" he asked.
"My goodness, no," she said between her laughs. Her eyes sparkled as they had when she was a child. Her laughter became infectious, and Tristan began to laugh with her.
"May I ask why we are laughing, Evelyn?"
"I don't know," Evelyn stopped, and smiled. "Who are you anyways, Tristan? A knight? Herald? Please do tell."
"I am but a lowly prince," he said hoping she would not be intimidated by his position.
"A prince, you say. Hmmm… You do look like a prince. Might I ask why a prince, like yourself, is doing in these parts of the palace?"
"I was exploring the palace to avoid talking to my parents about…something, that's not important. Um, what are you doing here?"
"I live here, for your information. The queen has kept me prisoner here." Tristan was shocked; he couldn't believe that his mother would keep someone as a prisoner.
She continued, "I say "prisoner", because it was not my wish to live here in the palace. She took me in as a child, when …" she stopped and looked into the distance.
Worried, Tristan gently put his hand on her shoulder. She brushed it off quickly, as if it were instinct.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean-"
"No, please don't be sorry. It's just that, I haven't had a real conversation with anyone for sometime now, and I may be a bit…"
"You don't have to explain. I don't know why, but I feel like I can understand you, for some reason."
She raised her eyebrow at him, "You've only met me just a few minutes ago."
"Yes, I know! That is why I am so confused. Nevertheless, I feel there is something between us, what it is, I have no idea. What I am trying to say is …"
"Well, what?"
"Let's be friends," he said with a sigh.
"Is that it?" she asked.
"Well, I do have some questions for you. I mean, it's not everyday you find a girl in an abandoned palace, do you?" he said smiling. He looked at her hoping to see a smile upon her face, but instead, she had that distant look she had on a moment ago. The moonlight by the window was familiar. Today was the day of the new moon.
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The moonlight reminded her of that day.
Five years, Evelyn, five years has passed, and you are still haunted by that day. Why must I be like this? Why am I not able to go on? Father…
Images of her father's corpse, the puddle of blood, and most of all the heart seeped into her head, although she tried with might to wipe away the pictures in her mind.
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"Is there something wrong?" his concerned voice did not reach her.
"Please leave…" she whispered, walking back to the window. This frightened Tristan, just a moment ago she was laughing delightfully, but here she was again by the window as he had first seen her, still mysterious as ever. There was something not right about it. Why would a young girl live in such a place, having no one to talk to, and away from the world? Her behavior, nothing made sense to him.
"I'll leave for now, but I'll be back, I can promise you that," he said leaving her to herself.
"Goodbye, dear prince."