Whew, this chapter took longer to finish, but I planned on having it longer than usual.

7 makes an appearance, finally. ^_^ There'll be hints of 7x8 as the story goes on. :3

Chapter five will take place during the Masquerade Ball. :) We'll finally get to see the Crown Princess.

One week passed since Count 1 returned to his home in Turris Ebernea. 9 had spent every free minute thinking of his plan to enjoy himself at the Masquerade Ball while also avoiding the Crown Princess as much as possible.

While preparing for the Ball, he was already getting his costume ready. He showed his design to Eriu, and she and the other handmaidens began sewing the costume. With his costume being made, 9 also talked to the twins about his plan. 3 and 4, who were also excited about the Masquerade Ball, agreed to help him avoid the Crown Princess. Now that the twins agreed to help, all 9 would have to do was wait for the Ball.

2 was going to have the invitations sent out to the nobility, but 9 suggested that the Masquerade Ball be open to everyone, whether they were noble or commoner. With the news of the arranged marriage on the rise, 9 wanted to forget about it for a while, and have time to enjoy the whatever freedom he had left before being married off. 2, seeing the melancholy in 9, had the Ball open to everyone regardless of class.

The Grand Hall, where the Masquerade Ball was usually held, was being prepared. Decorations ranging from silk ribbons to small balloons were being brought in with 9 overseeing the progress. For entertainment, the performers from Marva Plaza were invited to the Masquerade Ball. The performers, who went by the name of The Fayehearts, were honored to be performing at the Masquerade Ball, seeing how at last year's Masquerade a troop of stitchpunk acrobats from an eastern kingdom came. Of course, music would be provided, as two of the members of The Fayehearts played instruments. These instruments being handmade as opposed to crafted by humans like 9 had seen before. He thought the handmade instruments was interesting. He could hardly wait for the Masquerade to start.

9 walked through the hall, turning a corner to the left. He jumped back when a stitchpunk almost bumped into him.

"Oh!," said the newcomer. "I'm sorry, Your Highness."

"That's all right," said 9. He looked up to see the stitchpunk.

It was a female with white fabric. She had a green brooch on her chest and a rope tied around her waist. An armband decorated her right upper arm. On her head, she wore a bird skull that she lifted for him to see her face. Two bones dangled from the side of her head, like earrings, and behind the skull was two brown feathers draping down. She held a spear in her left hand. The scars on her fabric made her look like she'd gone through various battles.

"I don't think I've seen you before," said 9, "who are you?"

"My name is 7," said the stitchpunk, "I just got here."

9 smiled. "Oh."

"I came from Pulsion," replied 7, "that's a seaside town in the northeast."

"Ah, really," said 9, smiling. "Pulsion."

7 nodded.

9 noticed her bird skull.

"Guards are supposed to wear standard masks on duty," he said.

"Oh, right," said 7, "this skull belonged to my crow, Nyneve." She tapped her finger against her spear's blade, her face nostalgic. "A cat got him while I was with my human family picking berries. I kept his skull to have a piece of him with me."

9 sported a pensive look.

"I see," he said, "it's a sweet sentiment."

"Thanks," said 7, "anyways, I'm supposed to be looking for 8. Do you know where he is?"

"Yes," retorted 9, "I think he's with my father in the courtyard."

"Thank you," uttered 7, she walked past him.

"You're welcome," said 9.

He watched 7 leave. He noticed she had brown patch on her back that covered where her number was written. Turning away, he continued his destination to the library. As soon as he entered through the double doors, he started calling out for them.

"3? 4?"

9 glanced both ways, eager. He looked to his right, and saw the twins emerge from behind a bookcase.

'Yes, my Prince?,' said 3.

"I wanted to talk to you more about my plan," said 9

'Oh, the plan,' chirped 4.

3 nodded.

'What else have you thought about?,' asked 4.

9 walked past the twins, heading for his usual spot at the table. 3 and 4 followed from behind, excited to hear more on the prince's plan. Once the the three were seated, 9 was about to speak when a stitchpunk came hurrying thought the library. The three looked up, to their surprise it was Eriu.

"Eriu," said 9.

"Your Highness," said Eriu, curtsying before the prince, "I have two letters for you."

9 blinked. He looked down at her hands. She held two envelopes.

"Who are they from?," he asked.

"One is from the Count of Turris Ebernea," replied Eriu, "and one is from your friend, the blacksmith, 5."

3 and 4 looked at each other. Then they looked at the prince. Eriu held out her hands, waiting for 9 to take the letters. 9 took them gratefully.

"Thank you, Eriu," he said, nodding, "you may go."

Eriu curtsied before leaving. Once she was out of sight, 9 looked at the envelopes in his hands. 3 dashed off, then returned seconds later with a letter opener.

'Which one are you going to open?,' asked 3, holding the thin blade.

9 looked at 3, then at the envelopes. One, the envelope from Turris Ebernea, had the official seal stamped on. It was of a star next to a swirl. The second envelope, had no real decoration on it. Looking at both, 9 couldn't decide on which one. He took the letter opener from 3, and picked up the one from 5.

"I can't wait to hear from him," he said, slicing open the envelope. "It's been so long." He put down the letter opener, pulled out the sheet of paper and looked at it with excitement.

He could hardly contain himself at what he read.

Dear 9,

I'm sorry that it's been a long time since we last spoke. I've been busy a lot. Ronan, my employer, is really nice, and he and I get along. Everyone in Caney loves Ronan.

Work keeps me busy. I make weapons. Spears, halberds, you name it. Recently, Ronan's been taking me to Equilirium, the human-stitchpunk inhabited kingdom. We went there on business to meet a friend of Ronan, who is a stitchpunk named Fenix. He lives with a human family. The family, who owns a training camp for stitchpunks, needed new armor made. Ronan and I spent days crafting armor for the stitchpunks, and I got to spend time with Fenix. You know, I think Fenix and I sort of clicked. Hehehe. I think I might like to see him again someday. He's so charismatic, and I couldn't stop looking into his optics. They glow orange when he's excited, and he can spark fire from his hands. It's a trait from his human soul; apparently a distant relative was a fire-eater. The relative used to say he was the fire, and the fire was him. I think it's amazing.

How have you been, 9? I know we left things kind of...awkward, when you and I broke things off. I don't know if you've met someone else, or if you're arranged to marry someone. You are the Prince after all. It wouldn't make sense for a prince to marry someone beneath him. We kept it secret from your father, but he would've caught on. That's why I had to take the job in Caney. Again, I'm sorry for how things ended.

Sorry for not writing in so long. I've been busy. How are 3 and 4? And 6? Has he had another of his visions again? I know in the last we tried to stop them, but then 4 suggested we try to understand what the visions meant. Has he had any? If he has, let me know. I'd like to know what he sees in the future. I hope he has a vision of you happy and settled with someone. Someone who loves you for you, not your title. I hope it happens.

I'd like to hear from you and what you've been up to.

Sincerely, 5

9 put down the letter. He took a moment to rein in all he read. 5 met someone else. Another stitchpunk. He stared at the letter like it were a burned human corpse.

He knew he and 5 ended things a year ago when he needed to take that job in another kingdom. Taking that job would mean the end of their tryst, but if 5 didn't take it and they continued their relationship, his father would've found out. Ending things was the best decision.

It made 9 happy to know 5 was doing well. He was glad he had work and friends. And this new stitchpunk, Fenix, he sounded interesting. Fenix could shoot sparks of flames from his hands. He heard of stitchpunks acquiring traits from the soul they receive. 9 had seen a few in Numerus who could move water with nothing but the power of their minds. There was even one who could make flowers grow at rapid speed. But there were some who didn't have such abilities and were ordinary. 9 was one of them, and it left him wishing he could have had one of those powers and abilities. He would settle for telekinesis if he had the chance.

'Read the next one,' said 3, sliding the unopened envelope toward 9.

"Right," said 9, picking up the letter opener. He opened the envelope and pulled out the paper.

He began reading.

Dear Prince of Numerus,

It has been a week since I've been to your kingdom, and frankly, I find myself yearning to see your kingdom again. The Masquerade Ball will give me that opportunity again. I wonder, what kind of costume should I wear? There's still so much to think of.

There is still so much to discuss pertaining to the alliance. I can talk things over with your father, the King, when I arrive for the Masquerade Ball. We might be able to pick up where left off. If there's anything you want to talk about, you can always tell me. Until then, I'll be waiting for the Ball to start.

Signed, the Count of Turris Ebernea

After reading it, 9 had a lot on his mind to sort out. He wondered why this letter was addressed to him and not his father. He was the King after all. Why did 1 send it to him specifically? He thought of asking his father about it when he suddenly remembered about his plan. He had so many things brewing in his head that he nearly forgot about the plan.

Turning to look at 4, he asked, "What do you think? Should I answer 5's letter first or the Count's?"

4 looked at 3, who looked back with a soulful look. The twins glanced back at 9.

'You should answer 5's letter first,' replied 3. 'You haven't heard from in a while.'

'He's right,' said 4, nodding, 'you've just met the Count, and he won't be coming until the Masquerade Ball, of which we still need to be on top off.'

9 looked from one twin to the other before his gaze settled on the opened letters.

'Does the Count even want to help you with the plan?,' asked 4.

"If I explain it to him," said 9, looking up at one then the other, "he won't have to do much. Just a simple distraction."

3 raised a brow, expression a mix between suspicion and curiosity.

"We still have time," said 9. "Can you fetch me a sheet of paper?"

'Sure,' said 4, breaking into a sprint.

9 and 3 saw her turn to the right, hearing her rapid footsteps tap atop the floor. 4 returned seconds later with several sheets of looseleaf. She stood before the table, handing the prince the papers.

"Thank you," said 9, picking up one sheet of paper. He picked up a quill, reached for a small ink bottle and began writing.

Dear 5,

It's good to hear from you again. It's been a long time. I was starting to think you forgot about me.

To answer your question, I've been arranged to marry the Crown Princess of the South Kingdom, Princess Valora. As you can probably guess, I'm not excited about it. I wish I didn't have to go through with this, but I have to to keep the peace between both kingdoms. I'd lose a limb to get out of this marriage. I've never met her before, but the Crown Princess is coming to the Masquerade Ball. I'll know what she's like then.

Speaking of, I'm going to ask Father if I can send an invitation to the Masquerade Ball for you. You can bring Fenix to the Ball. It'd be nice to see you again.

I'm worried about Father. A few days ago, he used his cane to aid walking. He normally doesn't use it unless he's run down. I tried to get him to tell me what's wrong but he just brushes me off. He hasn't used it in a week, which I'm hoping is a good sign. I hope it doesn't mean anything serious.

Our kingdom got a visit from the Count of Turris Ebernea. His name is 1. He came here to form an alliance with Numerus. Father asked me to show him around, which I was reluctant to do. I did it to appease Father. To be completely honest, I ended up having a good time around the Count's company. He's actually a good listener.

Speaking of the Masquerade Ball, I've invited Count 1. You might meet him, if you choose to accept the invitation. If you choose to accept, I've come up with a plan to avoid the Crown Princess. I've already talked it over with 3, 4 and 6. They've all agreed to help. My plan is to make the Crown Princess have a miserable time that she'll call off the marriage. That's what I'm hoping. And I hope it works.

I want to tell you so much more, but I'd rather save it for when we meet in person.

I hope to hear more from you.

Sincerely, 9

9 dipped the quill in the ink bottle, looking over his letter.

"What do you think?," he asked, looking at each twin.

'I think it looks fine,' said 3.

'Yes,' said 4, nodding. 'Do you really think he'll want to come to the Ball?'

"I hope he comes," replied 9, "if he doesn't, I won't force him."

4 smiled gently, if it would make cheer 9 up.

'Are you going to answer the Count's letter.

9 blinked.

"Right," he said tentatively. "The Count."

He picked up one of the unused papers, dipped his quill in the ink bottle, and got ready to write...only it felt like his hand was stopped by an invisible hand.

'What's wrong?,' queried 3.

"I," said 9, "don't know how to start the letter." He dipped his quill in the ink bottle to avoid letting the ink dry.

'What do you think you should say?,' asked 4.

9 furrowed his brow.

"There's so much I could say," he quoth, "but I don't know where to start."

3 looked over at 4, who shrugged.

'Why not just simply thank him for visiting your kingdom?,' offered 4 as an idea. 'You are grateful he considered forming an alliance with Numerus, right?'

"I am," said 9. He picked up the quill again, pressing it against the letter, starting his letter.

Dear Count of Turris Ebernea,

I am grateful for your visit, and as such, I have a lot to say about the alliance. I look forward to seeing you again at the Masquerade Ball.

Speaking of the Masquerade, I was hoping you could help me with something, if you choose to. The Crown Princess of the South Kingdom will be attending, therefor I will be meeting her for the first time. And I want to enjoy it, but also avoid her as much as I can. I have a plan, but would like for you to play a part in it. I'll tell you more once you arrive at the Ball. I'll be waiting for your answer.

P.S. I'm glad to hear you liked your visit to Numerus. I appreciate it.

Signed, the Crown Prince of Numerus

With that, 9 dropped his quill back in the inkwell and looked over his letter. He looked at 3 and 4.

"What do you think?," he inquired, turning the letter over for them to see.

4 glanced at 3 before facing 9.

'It's rather...formal,' said 4.

"Well," said 9, "it is business. And I like to keep things that way with him."

3 shrugged, while 4 simply nodded.

"Can you get me some envelopes?," asked 9.

'Of course, right away,' piped 3.

3 dashed off to the direction 4 previously went and returned with two envelopes and a stamp. Once they were handed to 9, he neatly folded each letter and placed it carefully inside the envelopes. He sealed each one with the official seal. Then wrote the name and address to their proper destination.

"I need to have these delivered," said 9, standing up, holding each envelope. He hand one to the twins. "Find Eriu and have her deliver these at once."

'Yes, my Prince,' said 4, taking one of the two envelopes.

"Come on, you don't have to call me 'Prince,'" insisted 9.

'Sorry.' 4 smiled sheepishly.

9 smiled. He watched the hooded twins hurry off to find Eriu. With that taken care of, he thought back to his plan. Aside from his plan, he wondered about 6 and what he would unravel.

9 entered the Royal Gallery, calling out 6's name.

"6?," he called. "Are you there?"

"O-over here," replied 6's voice.

The prince saw the striped stitchpunk's arm wave to him from behind a canvas. 9 strode up to him.

"I wanted to ask you something," he said standing beside the striped stitchpunk.

"G-go ahead," uttered 6, not taking his optics off the canvas.

9 mulled over the question. Finally, he said, "Have you...had any of your...visions?"

6 paused, pen-nib finger hovering over the canvas, a drop of ink dripped to the floor. He looked up at 9, his mismatched optics held worry in them.

"Um," said 6 almost quietly, "I...h-have."

The prince blinked. He got the answer he wanted, now all he needed was to get more out of 6, but he couldn't pressure him.

"What did you...see in those visions?"

The black-and-white stitchpunk grabbed his black key, optics looking from 9 the floor.

"Y-you want...to k-know if," he said nervously, "you'll e-end up...marrying...the P-princess?"

The words hit 9 like stones, but he nodded, unable to answer vocally.

"I," said 6, tugging on his key, "I've s-seen...ca-tas-tro-phe."

9's breath was caught in his throat.

"That's a-all...I saw. The w-wedding."

"What else did you see?," queried 9.

"N-nothing else," responded 6 nervously. "C-can't see...what...h-happens...next." He grabbed at his key, giving it a pull. He bit his lip.

9 looked at him worriedly. It was enough for him to think his plan more thoroughly, and whether his intentions are for the good of his subjects. He didn't know what the Crown Princess' intentions were either, but he couldn't let himself be swayed by her charms. He was bent on thwarting her off as much as possible. And if he succeeded, maybe, just maybe, there was the slim chance she might reconsidered the arranged marriage.

Two weeks passed and the date of the Masquerade Ball was drawing nearer.

9's costume was almost finished and he was looking forward to trying it on before the main event. The costume consisted of a grayish seafoam green robe with gold trim. It had flared sleeves that went all the way to the floor, it even had a train. As part of the costume, angels wings constructed out of wires and nylons and fake feathers were seen to the back. A thin silver coronet completed the look. 9 admired the costume, every bit of it from the color to the white wings fanning from behind.

After he tried on the costume, 9's next step was to consult 3 and 4 on their part of the plan. Their role was to sneak into the Ball, disguised of course, and cause a series of events that will lead to the Crown Princess being humiliated. With that successful, he, the twins, 5, and possibly the Count would exit the Masquerade before anyone can pinpoint it on them.

Just two days after 9 delivered the letters, he received an answer. The letter was from 5, and what he said, gladdened the prince immensely. In his letter, 5 said that he would like to attend the Ball and would be indeed bringing Fenix with him as his plus one. He even agreed to participate in the plan to avoid the Crown Princess of the South.

He still had his duty to fulfill. Overseeing the preparations for the Masquerade Ball was still underway. The Grand Hall was ready, decorated with silk ribbons and tapestries. The entertainment was practicing songs that were to be played at the Masquerade. The fact that everyone, whether they be commoner or of the nobility were attending, making it much more diverse in 9's point of view.

All that was needed now was to wait for everything to fall into place.

9 strolled down the hall, on his way to the garden. He wasn't even aware of the rushing footsteps trying to catch up to him.

"Your Highness," said the voice.

Turning around, he saw Eriu doing her best to catch up to him. She held up an envelope.

"Eriu?," said 9, stopping.

The female stitchpunk stopped and curtsied.

"My Prince," she said, straightening, "a letter for you from the Count of Turris Ebernea."

9 raised a brow. Eriu held out the envelope for him to take. The prince took it, thanking her before she curtsied yet again and then dashed off. 9 looked down at the envelope. It was sealed with its official stamp. Curiosity piquing in, 9 continued his stroll to the garden, anticipating seeing the Count's answer.

The entrance to the Royal Garden was up ahead of him. He eagerly entered the garden, and made for his usual stone bench. He sat down and opened the envelope, pulling the letter out.

He began reading.

Dear Prince of Numerus,

I am delighted to attend the Masquerade Ball, and continue discussing the alliance. I look forward to seeing you.

Discussing the plan you have to avoid the Crown Princess. I know it's not my place to say, but you'll probably disagree with my advice to spend time knowing her. As I can predict you're not thrilled about having to spend time with her. I'm not saying to not go through with the marriage, but I also don't agree with being forced to marry someone you don't love. Arranged marriages never end happily, as they merely set up to put both parties in turmoil.

If you're determined to avoid the Crown Princess, then I'll help you distract her. Instead of a childlike prank, I'll simply excuse myself, and ask that you come join me in the Royal Library. It's not much, but it'll give you the time to meet the princess and avoid her. Antics aside, I'm looking forward to meeting you again. I can't wait to see what kind of costume you'll be wearing to the Masquerade.

Signed, the Count of Turris Ebernea.

9 raised his head, brow lifted. He didn't know what to think, much less what to say. The answer in the Count's letter was all he needed, but he couldn't help but feel annoyed at his response to know the Crown Princess of the South. Get to know her? That was exactly what 9 didn't want to do. Putting the letter on his lap, he reread the part that said 1 would help him create a distraction. His idea was much less troublesome, but he wanted to go through the plan his way. He still had time before the day of the actual Ball. He would have to see then.

On the plus side, 5 was going to come the Masquerade, and he was going to be bringing Fenix. 9 wondered what he was like. The fact that 5 was bringing a date made the situation easier to handle. It wouldn't be awkward having to remember how things ended between them. At least, knowing that 5 found somebody made 9 happier for him.

Until the day of the Ball came, 9 still had a lot things to sort out.

2 entered the Grand Hall, his cane making a gentle tap atop the marble floors. He saw 9 standing beside Eriu and two other female stitchpunks. The elder stitchpunk looked over to his right, to his surprise, 8 was standing guard.

"Good day, Captain," he said, smiling.

"Good day, Your Majesty," replied 8, bowing quickly.

The sound of footsteps from behind crept up 2's audial receptors. He turned around to see a female white stitchpunk wearing a bird skull rushing to get to the entrance. She jumped back at his presence, optics widening.

"Your Majesty!," she said, bowing, holding her spear away as to not stab him accidentally. "Forgive my tardiness, I was—"

"Don't worry about it," said 2, "just be on time next time."

"Right," said 7, "thank you, Your Majesty."

7 quickly entered the Grand Hall, standing to the right. She peeked over at 8, who sent her a side look and she thought he saw him wink at her.

2 strode up to 9, hearing fragments of his conversation with the maids. Eriu was the first to notice 2 approaching, and signaled the other maids to curtsy. 9 spun around, stitched eyebrows raised.

"Father," he said, "you're—"

He looked down, noticing the cane. He was using it again. This could not mean good news, but the prince chose to not voice it out.

"I just came to see how the preparations are going," said 2.

"Oh," said 9, "everything is going well."

"They are, Your Majesty," said Eriu.

"I can see that," quipped 2. He gazed up at the ceiling, then looked over at the tapestries that were in a dark plum color with gold trim. He smiled at the sight.

"Was there anything else you needed?," asked 9.

"No, no," answered 2, shaking his head.

"We will be getting back to work," announced Erius, curtsying. The other two maids curtsied as well. The three walked away to continue working.

"9," said 2.

9 turned around, stitched brow raised in curiousness.

"I was thinking," said 2, "that we'd spend the rest of the day together."

"Where?," asked 9. The tone in his voice held disbelief, and nobody could fault him for it.

"Anywhere you'd like," replied 2.

The prince looked at 2's hand. It shook slightly, and 2 was trying to steel himself. It worried 9, and the more he questioned it, the worse the situation was going to get.

"Well," quoth 9, looking hopeful, "you know where I want to go? I want to go the field in the forest."

"That sounds like a splendid idea," said 2. "I'll go have a carriage ready."

Smiling, 9 turned to the 8, about to give an order when 2 stopped him.

"Don't worry about 8," he said, "he'll be fine here. This trip is just for you and me."

Looking from him to 8, 9 rested his optics on 2, saying, "All right. I'll just...wear something more suitable."

"I'll be waiting for you," said 2.

9 left the Grand Hall, with 7 and 8 bowing to him as he left.

He immediately went straight to his bedroom, changing out of his gray cape, and rummaged through his armoire for a new ensemble. After choosing between two different cloaks, 9 picked a dark blue coat with straps in the front. After putting it on, he took off his gold crown, thinking it would get lost. He went over to his vanity and placed it on the small velvet cushion. He hurriedly left his room, rushing down the hall to get outside.

When he reached the front entrance, and when he stepped outside, he saw 2 already about to step inside the carriage. 9 looked at the carriage.

It was a white structure, spacious enough for two or three, if more wanted to embark. The wheels were gilded in gold. It flew a flag with their royal crest, and seated at the perch was a male stitchpunk with tawny-colored fabric wearing an orange waistcoat. The carriage was pulled by a pair of rats, their reins held by the stitchpunk footman. 9 observed the rats; they were twice his size with neatly-clipped gray fur. Their noses twitched, sniffing the air. 9 looked at the other attending stitchpunk holding the carriage door open, waiting patiently for him.

"Your Highness," said the coachman.

9 nodded, and immediately got into the carriage. As soon as the door was closed, the stitchpunk seated on the perch pulled on the reins, the rats beginning their scurry.

As the carriage was pulled out of the palace courtyard and onto the road, 9 peered out the window. He saw glimpses of stitchpunks stopping to wave to the passing carriage, knowing he and his father were inside.

The interior of the carriage was the same white color with the seats lined in red velvet, complete with cushions. 2 was seated across from him. His cane was placed by side, leaning against the seat. He looked content, like nothing could deter his pleasant mood. But 9 still had to be vigilant for when his father showed sign of exhaustion. He knew he liked to put on a brave face for 9, but the prince couldn't but feel irked. But he wasn't going to let that get to him. He wanted to enjoy this sudden expedition.

9 looked out the carriage window, seeing the towering buildings pass him and the stitchpunks milling about. They had already passed the route to Marva Plaza, and were nearing the gates of the kingdom. The prince heard the gates begin to open, and already excitement bubbled in him.

The carriage turned left. The ride was quick without speeding. The rats moved at an even pace, having been well-trained for transport. To 9's right, the treeline could be seen with the rest of the forest spreading on, beckoning the visitor to enter. One would lose themselves in the endless serenity of the woods.

Peering over to the left, he saw the walls of the kingdom disappearing to see more greenery come into view. The world peeled out before 9, billowing clouds wafting in the sky from one corner to the other. 9 could hear birdsongs in the distance, and the wind rustling the branches was in sync with the rest of the noisy calls. He was so excited he couldn't wait to get out of the carriage.

"Excited?," commented 2.

9 jerked his head away from the window, smiling.

"I am," he responded, sitting up straight.

2 smiled.

The rest of the ride was quiet, neither 2 nor 9 knew what to talk about. It felt like both wanted to start a conversation, but didn't know how to start it, or if what they said would be worth talking about. All in all, 9 enjoyed the silence. It made the carriage ride more fun.

9 thought about the Count's letter that came yesterday. 1 seemed to support his desire to avoid the Crown Princess, but also reminded him about the importance of being civil. She was going to be a guest after all, and it was only good manners to welcome her. The Masquerade Ball was going to start next week, and the prince couldn't be more eager. He had been waiting, planning, imagining for that day to come. His costume was finished, his plan still needed some more tweaks, and he had his friends to help him. As much as he was dreading it, 9 was actually looking forward to meeting the Crown Princess. If what 1 said about her was true, he wanted to be prepared.

There was so much about this Crown Princess he didn't know about. He could just picture it now: him having to put up with her while he tried not to lose his cool. And what was her father like? Was he like his daughter, or was he different? If he was the complete opposite of his daughter, then he would consider starting a conversation with him and hope the Crown Princess loses interest in him.

The rest of the ride was uneventful as 9 expected. 2 would look out the window every second or so. 9 would look at the cane, then turn away, unable to help but feel like his father was hiding something. The fact that he was keeping 9 in the dark was unfair. He played dumb to keep his father from finding out he knew, now he thought he needed to act. He would do so when they get to the field.

"We're here," said 2.

The carriage stopped, and just as quickly the footmen came to open the door for them. 2, using his cane, stepped out, almost stumbling until the footman helped regain his balance. 9 stepped out next, standing beside his father, and looking up at the scenery.

The forest was enormous, radiant, and archaic. Its canopy was competed for by asp, fir, and willow, and twinkling lights bursting through their crowns allowed for a plethora of ferns to rule the thick layer of leaves below.

Silent climbing plants grasped many a tree, and a variety of flowers, which desperately tried to claim the last remnants of light, added colorful variety to the otherwise colorless terrain.

A clamor of sounds, which were caused by critters, brightened up the forest, and almost completely muffled the swaying of tree tops in the wind.

The trail stretched before him, and 9 couldn't contain himself any longer. His father, by aid if his cane, walked beside him. The prince tried his best to not speed up. He couldn't blame him for moving slower. 9 looked at the curving vines that intertwined themselves around the trunks. Looking up, he watched a butterfly flutter past him. Its wings were orange with black outline and white spots. A monarch butterfly from the markings. 9 smiled.

Crickets chirps also met 9's audial receptors. The soft calls from the songbirds also rang in harmony to the rest of the forestal atmosphere. It was a soothing effect that left 9 refreshed. He found he liked the way the sun cut through the treetops. It made him think of something heavenly descending onto the earth.

The further they walked, the closer 9 saw what looked like an opening. The way the tree branches brushed against each other made it easier for forest critters to climb from one spot to another. A breeze blew in, the branches rustled, leaves flying into the air. 9 could see the field now.

It was a vast sea of green with colorful flowers popping up, enhancing the monotony. The sky above was a clear, untroubled blue with a few clouds dotting the sky. 9 spotted a dragonfly buzz above a cluster of yellow flowers, then dart away, streaking rapidly in the air. Grass blades swayed in the wind, while the trill of cicadas resonated rhythmically. It was an insouciant atmosphere that 9 felt in tune to.

2, with use of his cane, slowly lowered himself to a sitting position. He nearly fell to the side when he caught himself. 9 walked over to a tall stalk of crazy, running his hand up and down, liking its smoothness. He ambled further, taking the time to stop and observe the flowers, touching their petals, and liking their patterns. It was a change from being in the Royal Garden. The distant calls of birdsongs brightened in the moment.

"9," called 2.

Turning around, 9 said, "Yes, Father?"

"Could you come sit with me?," he asked. "I'd like to to talk to you about something."

Curious but worried, 9 walked up to 2, sitting down beside him. Putting his cane to his left side, 2 placed a hand on top of 9's hand, making the prince more worried than he already was.

"Son," said 2, "there's no easy way to say this," he paused, "but...I feel like my time is drawing near."

9's brows furrowed. "You mean...your soul?" Saying the words was almost like swallowing barbed wire.

"I've been feeling more exhausted than usual," explained 2, "Even when I push myself to carry on...I know it's time."

The news made 9's inner workings lurch. He felt like he was going to jump out of his fabric. He didn't want to hear this, and yet, he had to. He needed to. He needed to know just what was going on with his father.

"I," uttered 9, nausea surging, "Father, I...isn't there a way to prolong it?"

2 shook his head, looking up at his son, he said, "I have lived for many years, 9." He gave 9's hand a gentle squeeze. "I know if I keep pushing myself I won't have time to have the preparations down."

9 frowned. When a stitchpunk dies, their souls are siphoned out with a talisman. Each kingdom had its own, but it just so happened that Numerus had the original talisman created by the scientist in its grasp. With 2 being one of the first stitchpunks created, he knew how the process was done, and when he noticed the fatigue settling in, he knew there was no turning the clock back.

"Father," said 9. 2 placed a hand on his shoulder.

"I'm not afraid to die, son," he said, "what I am afraid of so what's going to happen to you."

The zippered stitchpunk looked at him in disbelief.

"The marriage," said 2, "the South Kingdom. If we don't go through with this, then..."

9 stared. A long silence stretched on. The reminder sent a chill up his spine, but the possibility of war wasn't what worried him, it was something even deeper. Something more personal that neither stitchpunk wanted to be revealed. And it was precisely that that 9 didn't want out in the open. The situation was worse on 2, who had to bear it everyday. He had regretted many things, but he was going to have it worse the longer they had to give an answer. Their reputations would be disgraced if they had to put it off any longer.

If a miracle was possible, 9 would accept it happily.

Ooh, things are getting tense. I wonder what's going to happen next. We'll see in the next chapter. :D

Let's see what happens at the Masquerade Ball.