I've had trouble starting this, so it's taken a while.  I've also been busy with my other story, Crush.  But this is a more challenging story to write so I'm looking forward to working it out.  I hope you enjoy it enough to wait a tiny bit for me to write it up.  Thanks to my few readers.  You're great. 

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Noise was everywhere.  Gone was the busy chirp of birds, gone was the secretive wind whispering through the trees, gone were all the comforting and silent sounds she had known in the forest.  Abriella had not known the sound of carts, horses, trading, the general din of the city for ten years, and now it all came over her in an engulfing wave.  Prince Timothy sat silent and rigid in front of her and the horse underneath her felt foreign.  The horse picked its way confidently through the bustling city; nose thrust to the sky, eyes glancing contemptibly down at the peasants scurrying quickly away from his heavy, crushing hooves.  It was a marvelous imitation of the prince; the same contemptuous glare, the same mightier-than-all bearing.    Unsure of herself, afraid of all the sights she had not seen for years, she clung near to the prince.  She hated feeling weak, she had been captive beyond her control for ten years and now the unknowns of the world held her captive with fear. 

The horse reared up, a small child running across his careless path screamed, wide eyed, paralyzed.  A mother ran toward the child as the horse grew tall on his hind legs.  Abriella lost her grip and landed with a thud on the hard cobblestone street.  Prince Timothy remained on top of his rearing horse, yelling at the child, furious with the mother for neglecting her duty.  When Abriella could breath again, she pulled herself up to a sitting position just in time to witness the child being pulled from the street by the mother.  The child was in tears and the mother's cheeks were red with shame from the prince's chastisements.  Prince Timothy stopped yelling when he realized that his passenger was no longer with him. 

"Princess Abriella?  Are you ok?" he said haughtily.  Then turning from her, added in an insufferable voice, "If this lady is injured in anyway wench, you will be severely punished."

"Wait, no…" spoke Abriella, "It's not her fault. I'm not injured.  Don't be angry with her… or the child.  I'm alright."  She was still sitting, in a dusty pool of her long hair, feeling rather silly, and not actually sure whether she was all right or not. 

"Do not make excuses for a mere peasant!  And it is not befitting of princesses to sit in the middle of the street.  Stand up!" ordered the gallant prince.  Abriella stood up delicately, wondering when she had become a princess.  Each time the prince spoke, a little of her fear dissipated.  He was really an insufferable creature; the sound of his voice made the hectic noise of the village sound almost heavenly.  She knew that she did not plan to stay with the prince.  She would one day, soon if it was up to her, lose herself in this city until she could find means of travel.  She knew not where she would travel when that future day came, but that there would be a freedom in it that she had only ever dreamed of since she was ten years old.  She met the disapproving blue eyes of the prince and took his hand to remount the horse, wishing she could be as far from him as she could be.  But, she reminded herself, he is just a means to an end, he couldn't be very much trouble.

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            "Prince Timothy has returned from his 'secret' mission." Laughed a tall lanky youth, no younger than seventeen.  He slapped a taller, darker man on the back and matched his long steps to keep up with him.  Together they walked down the main street of the small kingdom of Galian, dodging traders and market goers, soldiers and mothers.

            "Oh really?  And has he brought back the greatest treasure of all?  Like he promised?"  Laughed the other man. 

            "Well, I guess that's debatable, Evan.  But I saw them when they entered Galian's border forest, and… Prince Tim certainly brought back something."  The younger boy was enjoying his little secret.

            "Them?  He left by himself."

            "Aren't you the sharp observer.  Yes he left by himself, but he's brought someone back with him."

            "Witches tooth, Christopher!  Just out and tell me who it was!  Why do you enjoy playing these little games?!"  Christopher did not tell his friend, but showed him, pointing a finger to what appeared to be a small disturbance at the far end of the street.  Evan looked past the everyday sights to fix his attention on the regal form of the prince and his horse.  The prince was looking at the ground, but what the prince was looking at was blocked by a gathering crowd.  Then, from among the dingy, dust covered heads of the masses, arose a golden creature.  She dusted her dress off, and put her hand into the prince's as he pulled her up behind him.  The onlookers quickly scurried away, afraid of the prince's contemptuous gaze and merciless temper, and Evan stared, dumbfounded, at the young girl seated behind prince Timothy. Or rather, he stared at her hair.  It was bright golden, shining, and long.  Long was an understatement.  Her braided tresses fell past the horse's rear end and were dragging along behind her in the street.  Realizing this, she gathered the braid up, looping it over her arm.  "Well," said Evan to Christopher, "who is she?  And where did the prince find her?"

            "Did you see her hair?  I've never seen hair that color, or that long."  And Christopher hadn't.  For a lady to wear her hair past her knees was quite common, but never had he seen hair that drug the floor and lay in pools at a woman's feet.  "Where do you think she's from?  She has to be a princess."

            "No Princess I've ever met.  And my father's thrown me at all of them.  Thankfully for me, they're all interested in my single cousin, the very eligible Prince
Timothy."

            "Watch yourself Evan.  Looks like the prince might not be eligible for much longer.  Then I'm sure those lovely maiden's attentions will settle on you."

            "Rather, for me.  And God, Chris, don't say such things.  If I ever caught any of those power hungry, evil-spirited wretches so much as looking at me hungrily the way they look at my worthy cousin, I'd have to… to…"

            "Kill yourself?"

            "Certainly not man!  But I'd have to do something drastic.  Running away sounds nice. And certainly less painful and damning than killing myself."  Christopher laughed at his friend's seriousness towards the matter and quickened his steps to overtake Evan. 

            "I'm heading towards the palace.  You know that usually I run from the palace as soon as Timothy comes back from one of his "adventures" but I have to admit, the golden haired maiden has caught my attention.  Don't tell me you're not intrigued."

            "Hardly.  But I'll come with you.  Nothing better to do anyway."  The two men walked a little quicker towards the gray castle looming before them wondering about the prince's treasure.