She was wasting time, she was sure of it and horribly ashamed. All of this dilly-dallying around while the Lord of Darkness grew ever more impatient, ever more willing to hurt those she cared about. Lily was wasting time, and it was putting everyone in danger.
She flung her sweat-soaked sheets aside and stood up, her bare skin growing goosepimply as the cool air touched it. What is it I still need? As she threw on a nightgown and a pair of slippers, Lily mentally took note of everything she still needed to collect: rations, boots, a pack, a cloak, and a sword. And I need to get them tonight. I need to leave the castle as soon as possible. The nature of her errands seemed to grow ever more pressing and frantic as she tried to decide the best way to get what she needed. One thing at a time. Rations. It's the middle of the night, so no one ought to be in the kitchens... I think. To be frank, Lily had never actually been to the kitchens. All of her food had always been brought to her, and she had never been taught to cook – No one ever expected that she might need to. After all, she was a princess who would one day be a queen, no doubt. Queens did not cook for themselves. Never mind the fact that with each day that passed, it seemed less and less likely that she would ever live to be a queen.
She squared her shoulders. Right. The kitchens. Now... Where exactly are they?
Sneaking around in the middle of the night seemed far less fun this time than it had when she had gone down to the Great Hall to get the charcoal. That time, despite the fact that she had been planning to go, it hadn't really seemed real; it had seemed more like sneaking out to visit Jack.
Lily felt a sudden pang of guilt at the thought of Jack. Here she was, preparing to leave the castle, perhaps forever, and she wasn't planning to see him, not even to say goodbye. It would be too dangerous for him. But when she thought of his wild hair, soft brown eyes, and ready smile, tears gathered in her eyes. She had as much as promised to be with him forever, and she had deserted him, even if it was for all of the right reasons. Memories came to her suddenly. "Don't you wish this was our wedding ring?" "If I say yes, will my wish come true?" She shook her head, blinking away the unshed tears. When I come back, I'll go straight to Jack, and I won't leave him again, not ever. Father will have to learn to accept that I cannot marry Prince Edgar of Ethril when my heart belongs to another. A part of her knew that she was being unrealistically optimistic, but she clung to that happy thought with all of her might.
Before the events that had occurred: the unicorns, the Lord of Darkness, all of it, she had had no idea that anything important or frightening was about to happen. By the time she had, it had been too late, and all she could do was go with it, hoping that she was making the right decisions. It had all seemed to happen so quickly. Now, however, she knew ahead of time that she was about to embark on something that was incredibly dangerous, and she had plenty of time to anticipate every single thing that could go wrong. Lily suddenly felt very young, despite what had happened that afternoon with Connor. Never had she been more conscious of the fact that she was small, not very strong, and definitely not brilliant. I'm just a spoiled princess. How can I do any of this?
She halted at a large set of wooden double doors. Praying that the kitchens lay behind them and not someone's bedchambers, she pushed them open quietly and stuck her head in the doors, looking around hopefully.
Lily was lucky this time. Her grateful eyes lit on the pots, the fires, the stacks of plates, the rows of wickedly sharp knives. As she snuck into the cavernous rooms, her eye was on one thing only: the large, sprawling pantry.
****************************************************
About ten minutes later, she stole back out of kitchens, stopping only to push the doors closed with her hips, her arms loaded with food. She had tried to take only non-perishables: dried venison and potatoes, mostly. She had also grabbed a couple of loaves of bread from the counters. The lack of variety in her choices frustrated her, but Lily knew that harvest was still approaching, and perhaps she'd be able to find more food along her way. Maybe I'll even manage to hunt. Lily's nose wrinkled slightly at the thought of killing and butchering a creature, but her sensible side knew that if it came down to it, she'd be grateful to eat whatever she could.
She managed to make it back to her room without too many mishaps; she dropped items once or twice, but fortunately, she wasn't carrying anything in jars, and so never awakened anyone with the sound of shattering glass. She simply tried to brush off the unfortunate items as best she could and kept going.
Upon reaching her room, she dumped the food onto her table and threw open her wardrobe doors, hoping to find something she could make some sort of acceptable pack out of, knowing that she had no idea as to where to find a real one.
Most of what she found was utterly unacceptable: dresses made out of fabrics that tore easily, and bright colors. That won't do. I need something that will blend in. It doesn't take an intellectual to know that I don't want to attract unwanted attention. She had a sudden idea, however. Shoving all of her pretty and utterly useless dresses aside, she groped in the back of the wardrobe and found it.
It was a riding dress. It had been given to a twelve year old Lily, who had rejected it instantly. "It's so ugly!" she'd screamed, throwing the dress to the ground. "Why would I wear something brown!? And this fabric? Horrid and rough! Make me a better dress!" Now Lily allowed herself a small smile. What a brat she had been. I still am one, really, but I'm improving, I hope. The maker of that dress had known what she was doing. Lily tugged experimentally at the fabric, and it didn't stretch even slightly. I could have saved myself quite a few fancier riding dresses had I worn this. But it can still serve a purpose.
Grabbing the ever-present basket of needles, thread, and cloth that lay by her window, she knelt by her bed, holding the dress in one hand. Her other hand reached out for the dagger that lay concealed within the peasant dress.
******************************************************
The sky was beginning to lighten by the time that Lily rubbed her aching hands and held up her makeshift pack. It wasn't a beautifully made pack by any means. Lily had never claimed to be good with sewing. However, it was serviceable. It had one large pouch, which she could close by means of a drawstring made out of an old hair ribbon, and large loops of cloth she could use to carry the pack on her shoulders. Not too bad at all, I suppose. Her fingers had paid for her hard work, though. She looked ruefully at her reddened hands, aching from a dozen or more pinpricks.
Lily was tired, horribly tired, but she knew that she had no time to sleep and no time to go steal from other people. She tore through her many pairs of shoes till she found the pair that she deemed the most suitable. They weren't perfect, but they'd do. They were a pair soft green boots that seemed entirely too delicate for what she needed, but they were certainly better than all of the fancy high-heeled slippers she owned for dances and whatnot.
I only need two more things: a cloak, and a sword. Stifling a gaping yawn, Lily wearily stood up to make her way down to the armory.
This time, though, people were starting to wake up and she'd stopped caring whether they saw her walking around. The entire castle knew that she had nightmares; perhaps they'd just assume that she was walking around to stave them off. Once she got to the armory, however, just outside of the castle, she froze.
The Swordmaster, Thorne, was already awake and training with a sword that looked to be as large as she was. There was no way that she could hope to sneak by him or hope to outwit him. There was also no way she could get him to give her a sword without him telling her father about it.
Once, when she had been very young and her father had still been too lost in grief for Queen Rose to pay much attention to her or to see to her training as a lady, she had snuck down to the armory to ask if he'd teach her how to use a sword. He'd immediately placed a sword in her hand that was at least as heavy as she was. Her small arms had trembled with the effort of trying to lift the blade off of the ground. Impotent and frustrated tears had shone in her childish eyes as Thorne had easily lifted the sword out of her small hands and told her, not unkindly, that a sword was not a tool for a lady. The very next day, her father had tutors sent up to begin teaching her to be a lady. She had been so entranced at the sights of the beautiful dresses and small dainty stitches they showed her that she forgot all about her desire to learn how to fight with a sword and had focused all of her attention on becoming a perfect little lady. After all, if it was what her bemused father wanted, she would do it to make him proud of her. Every now and again, she had thought of her thwarted desire with a slight pang of wistfulness, but it hadn't seemed very important. After all, by that time, she had understood much more clearly what was expected of her.
Now, however, the plan for what was expected of her seemed utterly irrelevant, and with that thought in mind, she approached the Swordmaster.
"Sir Thorne!" she said sweetly. "How do you fare this fine morning?"
Having seen her approach out of the corner of his hawk-like eyes, he showed no surprise at her presence as he continued to slowly and precisely swing his sword as he danced an intricate footwork. "Princess Lily. Better than you, it would seem, judging by the haggard look of your face."
She could have had him arrested and thrown into the dungeon for that remark and they both knew it, but Thorne's bluntness was well-known, and she still strangely appreciated the fact that he had even allowed her to briefly hold a sword on that long ago day. "I imagine that we all have a great deal of cares. My face simply reflects mine today."
"Are your nightmares of war, Princess? Of man cutting another man open with a piece of steel? Of brothers, sons, fathers, and husbands dying for a cause they do not care about? I truly doubt your 'cares' are that weighty, Princess. They're probably over what dress to wear today. No offense intended, but weighty affairs are a man's affair."
Lily was too startled by his statement to take much offense. "War? Sir Thorne, of what exactly do you speak?"
Now he did stop moving, impatiently shoving his faded brown hair off of his sweaty forehead with a large, calloused hand. "You don't know? What on earth do you do all day, Princess? You haven't noticed the increased security, or the fact that you've not been allowed outside the castle walls for weeks?"
"Of course I've noticed!" Lily said angrily. "I've just been..." Too occupied with other matters to remember. Such as the fact that I'm being spellbound by the son of Satan himself. "...busy," she finished lamely.
"Busy? And no one informs you of anything, do they, Princess? You're just their little caged butterfly, aren't you? They tell you to dance to relieve their cares, and you dance. Sweet child you are, but you've not a serious thought in your head. Your life is that of silk and wine. Go, Princess, and leave me to my training."
"Sir, you go too far," Lily said quietly. The girl inside her shrieked, How dare he, it's not fair, he doesn't know, no one knows... Outside, however, the woman she was becoming maintained her calm. "You know no more of me than I know of you, and if you wish me to have a serious thought in my head, you ought to tell me what's going on."
Thorne blinked a couple of times, clearly not having expected this response from her. "Well, then, Princess Lily. King Stefen of Granlen and your father are preparing for war with each other, and a right nasty business it's going to be."
She was stunned. "King Stefen? But he always seemed so kind whenever I saw him. Whatever could have happened?"
"King Stefen has a daughter about your age. He wanted Prince Edgar for his daughter – Ethril is a valuable land to have connections too – but King Clarence managed to secure a betrothal for you to Edgar right under his nose. King Stefen was enraged, as was his daughter, Princess Florie. Apparently, she's been carrying a torch for Edgar. From what I've heard, King Stefen might have been willing to let the whole matter go, but Florie's constant howling and whining infuriated him (he quite dotes upon his daughter), and so now he and your father are going to war. I expect it to come any day now."
Lily stood stock still, trying to absorb this. "There's going to be a war. And," she said slowly, "it's... it's really my fault, isn't it?"
His eyes snapped up to hers. "No, Princess, you mustn't think that. This is an adult matter."
"What are you trying to protect me from, Thorne? You've never shielded me from the truth before, and it seems to be crystal-clear. This war is because of me."
He sighed. "Well, Princess, I wouldn't quite put it that way. It involves you, but you did nothing to cause it."
"That makes no difference. I suppose it's no wonder you were so sharp with me before." Drained, she leaned against a nearby wall. The feel of the cool stone penetrated her thin nightdress, and for the first time, she realized that she was wandering around the castle in what amounted to underwear. She looked down at herself. Her developing figure showed quite clearly underneath. Her first instinct was to blush furiously and hide her head in her hands, but instead she straightened her back and looked him square in the face, ignoring the slight blush that did indeed stain her cheeks. "Look at me, Sir Thorne. I'm not a child anymore. My body's not the only thing that's grown and changed. I'm no scholar, but neither am I a dunce. I beg you, do not treat me as such."
He looked at her appraisingly. "You had potential."
Lily gasped. "I do beg your pardon, I'm sure, Sir Thorne?"
"I didn't mean it inappropriately, Princess. As a child, before they force-fed you fluffy thoughts and turned you into a little ornament, you had potential. You couldn't hold a sword – Nor should you have, as a female – but you had potential. Though I was honor-bound to tell your father, I wished I had not. You could have been someone to reckon with." A slight smile curved his lips. "For the first time since you came to me wanting to hold a sword, I have hope that perhaps you still might."
Belatedly, Lily realized that over the last ten or twelve years, every time he had spoken harshly to her or looked angrily at her, it hadn't been she at whom he was angry. Not her at all. With this new knowledge in mind, she decided to be bold; well, even more bold than she'd been thus far.
"Sir Thorne," she said, nervousness pulsing at the back of her throat, "I need a sword."
Thorne was visibly startled. "What's that, Princess?"
"A sword, Sir. I need one, and you are the only person who can give me one."
He laughed, still not sure whether she was joking. "It would be more than my life is worth to arm you, Princess Lily. A sword on a female? You wouldn't know the first thing about how to use it."
The image of Jack holding a sword flashed in her mind. "Some have to learn how to use a sword to save their lives the first time they pick one up. I may not know much about swords now, but I would certainly find out."
His grin was fading. "It is simply impossible, Princess Lily. I cannot."
Knowing that if she did not convince him now, she would not be able to, she decided to gamble. "Sir Thorne," Lily said firmly, "I need a sword. It is not a question. If you do not provide me with one, I will be forced to steal one, and I think neither of us would be pleased with the consequences of that act." His head tilted and he looked at her tersely, knowing that were a sword found missing and unaccounted for in his armory, he would be likely to lose his job, if not more. She added, more gently, "You have a war to fight; I also have my own war to fight. Unlike you, however, I must do it alone."
"What kind of trouble have you gotten yourself into?" he asked wonderingly. "What have you done?"
"I cannot explain, Sir Thorne. Will you help me, or will you not?"
They both stood there silently, the sun peeking over the horizon. Finally, he seemed to come to a decision. Jamming his sword down into the hard-packed earth beneath their feet, he turned and walked inside the small shack where all of the castle's weapons were kept. With sweaty hands clenched in the folds of her nightgown, Lily waited tensely. When he came back out, he was carrying a small but elaborate sword in one hand. The blade was clean and polished, the pommel and hilt were black leather with small rubies inset. She involuntarily reached out for it. Thorne held it out to her, and she eagerly grasped it. Lily had braced herself for it to be heavy, and when it was light and seemed to fit perfectly in her delicate hand, she looked questioningly at Thorne.
"It would have been your brother's first sword, had you had one," he said, understanding her unspoken question. "It had to be small and light, as befit a child. When your father first found that your mother was with child, he commissioned a special sword to be made, hoping to gird it on his young heir. Of course, then you were born and your mother died, and it was never used."
Lily looked down at the sword, feeling unaccountably guilty. If her father had been given a son, he would have an heir. Instead, Lily had been born. She had nearly caused the end of all of creation, and now she was causing a war in which good men would die. He would have been better off with a son. And there was no heir.
"It was not your fault, Princess," Thorne said, unusually gentle. "Your father had the choice to remarry and sire an heir, but he refused. It was not your fault."
She swallowed hard. "Sir Thorne, I thank you. May I please have the sheath and a belt with which I can wear the sword?" After a few more seconds in the shed, he handed those over too, and she clutched them as she would a lifeline. "I... I must ask you, Sir, not to tell my father about this."
He grinned, a grin that looked more like a grimace. "You have nothing to worry about. I saw the results of the last time I told your father. No one will be looking for this sword, and you have my word I shall not betray you." Thorne turned and squinted into the sun, suddenly looking older than his years. He sighed heavily. "You'd best hide those on your way back to your room, Milady."
Seeing that he considered the conversation closed, she hastily thanked him, attempted to hide the sword and belt in her billowing nightgown, turned, and ran.
Back in her room, she wanted to be able to sit and think about all that had just happened for a bit, but she was so tired that she only had the energy to thrust her new supplies under the bed, and fall asleep sprawled on top of the covers.
This time she was on a throne. It was made entirely of black marble, and was not especially very comfortable, but it seemed molded to fit her body. Luckily too, she was not nude this time. She was dressed in a black satin dress; it was not the dress he'd put her in before, though. This one had a line of small black diamonds across the neckline of the dress – which, incidentally, was very low – and was cut low enough to expose her back down to the small to the cold marble. Her hair was upswept in a very adult style, pulled severely away from her face. The satin draped in folds around her legs, and her arms were lying on the armrests, as if she were meant to be there.
Lily sighed. "Come out, Demon. If you insist on interrupting my sleep, you may as well show yourself."
"Please, Lady, call me Darkness. It would gratify me greatly."
Her head snapped to the side. There, sitting on her right in an identical throne that she could have sworn had not been there before, was Darkness. He was dressed in black to match her dress, and his red skin shone even more brilliantly under it. The combination of red and black reminded Lily of her new sword.
"I do nothing for your pleasure, Demon."
A smile curved his lips, the tips of his fangs barely showing. "I've heard that song from you before, Lady. And yet you do. You do many things for my pleasure, and I do enjoy them."
Lily didn't quite understood what he meant, so she decided to ask the question that had been plaguing her. "Why me?" she whispered. "Why, out of all women everywhere, did you have to choose me? Surely there are willing women somewhere?"
A self-satisfied sneer curved his pointed face. "Willing women? There are many. I have only to command and they will do as I wish. But none of them... fascinate me as you do. Your soul is still disgustingly good, but with every day that passes, it becomes a bit more tarnished, taking you closer to me, step by step. Oh, you fascinate me, Princess. From the first moment I saw you, standing alone, bedraggled and terrified in my dungeon with the unicorn you tried to protect, I have thought only of you." As suddenly as his smile had appeared, it was gone. "I tried to woo you in the way I knew best, Lady. I was willing to share my eternity, my power, my kingdom, all of it, with you. Yet you scorned my gift," he spat. "You chose that boy over me."
"Love is an emotion you do not know and cannot understand."
"Love, is it?" A terrifying emotion appeared on his face. "You will love me."
"N—no," Lily said nervously. "I will not."
"I will make you love me. You will come to me, and you will love me."
"No spell could make me forget Jack, Darkness," Lily said.
He reached out with his clawed hand and enclosed her limp hand in it. "It will not be a spell."
"Princess Lily! What are you still doing in bed at this hour?"
Lily forced her heavy eyes open to find Clara bending over her. "Clara," she yawned, "forgive me, I was merely tired."
"Well, Milady, you'd best wake up in a hurry. The King wants to see you."
"What, again?" Lily asked, irritated. She had not seen her father since the day he'd informed her of her betrothal to Prince Edgar. It had not been malicious, but he had been busy, and with her new knowledge of the coming war, she now understood why. Of course, with her own plans to make, she hadn't exactly been worried about seeing her father.
Clara raised a thick eyebrow. "Yes, again, Princess, and you should wipe that look off your face. Your father wouldn't take it kindly. Now, I think you should wear..."
Lily let Clara dress her, unresisting, but not listening to a word her nursemaid was saying. Darkness wants me to love him? But he does not know love, so he cannot love me. Can he? No. He mustn't. If he loved me, he would not be so willing to destroy my life. No demon could know love; not the kind of love Jack and I share. What he feels for me is sheer lust. I must not give in.
"Well, then, dearie," Clara said, "you're all dressed and lovely. Time to go see your father."
*******************************************************
Again Lily stood in front of her father, hands clasped nervously together. It was as if no time had passed since she last saw him, as if the last days had been naught but a dream. She was dressed differently, as was he, but other than that, all was the same.
"Tell me, daughter," he began, "how you have been. I have not seen you overmuch."
"I have been fine, father."
Sitting behind his desk, he looked very small. "Have you had time to think over your betrothal to Prince Edgar?"
"I have thought it over, and, father, I do not think—"
"My dear," he interrupted, "I am sorry to hurry you, but as I'm sure you've noticed, war is coming."
"Yes, father, I have been told, and I want you to know that—"
"Thus I'm afraid that we must move somewhat more quickly than we would otherwise."
Lily blinked, uncomprehending. "Father?"
"You will leave here tomorrow morning," he said matter-of-factly. "You will travel with an armed escort, and you will go straight to Ethril, where you will wed Prince Edgar without delay."
She felt faint. "Father, I can't—"
"I am sorry to rush you, my dear, but if you do not leave immediately, it will not be safe for you to travel. It grieves me that I must miss the wedding of my only daughter, but I must stay here and oversee the armies. I will, of course," he added hastily, "come and visit you when your first child is born."
"Father!" Lily said, infuriated. "I cannot marry Prince Edgar, do you understand? I cannot. Let the Princess Florie have him. Avert this war and free me from this unwanted obligation."
He stared at her. "Daughter, I do not think that you realize what you are saying. 'Unwanted obligation?' Do you not realize what an honor it is that such a fine, noble gentleman has agreed to wed you, a princess from a small, backwater country?"
"It is an honor, I know," she said, frustrated, "but one I cannot accept. My... my heart is given elsewhere."
Now her father looked angry. "To whom?" he roared. "One of my guards? A dishonorable young man who deflowered my only daughter in his trash heap of a room?"
Lily staggered in shock and caught hold of the edge of his desk to steady herself. "F—father! I did not—"
"Do not take me for a fool, daughter," he said, his voice colder than she'd ever heard it. "This is my castle, and I make a point of knowing everything that goes on in it. There are holes in the walls and my spies have spies. I know exactly what you've been up to."
He knows! Oh, merciful god, he knows. She looked at him in fright. Does he know everything? What is he going to do to me? I'll never be able to escape now.
"It is a fine tale. My well-brought-up daughter gallivanting around the castle, peeking at my guards, deciding which one would be best to sin with."
Though she was still terrified, she was suddenly flooded with relief. Oh, thank goodness, he doesn't know that I'm leaving. He just thinks it was all so I could seduce some hapless guard. Thank goodness.
"For the tender feelings I bear you, I would have ignored this...occurrence. If you are adult enough to seduce a guard, surely you would be adult enough to fake still being a virgin with Edgar, and there would be no insult offered. If you were to consummate the marriage soon enough, there would be no suspicion should you prove to be with child. However, now you think to cancel the betrothal so you can marry some good-for-nothing guard. No, Lily, you will go to Ethril tomorrow, and wed Prince Edgar with no complaints. As for the guard, he shall receive justice. Go to the prince and forget about the guard. That is a command, both from your father and from your king. Go now, and prepare for your journey."
With that said, he turned back to his work, waves of anger still rolling off him. Lily did not feel capable of movement. With child...? Her hand flew to her belly. She had never even considered the possibility.
Slowly, she picked up her leaden legs and moved towards the door. She paused. Her father's riding cloak was lying crumpled on his bed. It was black. Could I really steal from my own father? Then she remembered what her father had said – The sooner she left, the safer she would be. Her father, knowing her feeling, would no doubt expect her to try to escape, but not right away. With that in mind, she picked up the cloak and rolled it into a small bundle as she walked out the door.
Luckily, this time Clara was not waiting for her. Before I return to my room, I have one more thing to do...
*********************************************************
It did not take her long to hurry to the servant's quarters. She breathed a sigh of relief when she recognized the guard in the hallway.
"Connor!" she said loudly, hurrying towards him.
A change went through his body when he saw her. He straightened his back and a small grin appeared on his face, no matter how he tried to hide it. "Princess Lily! To what do I owe the honor of this visit?"
"He knows," she said hurriedly, wasting no time, yet sorry to see the smile disappear from his face. "My father knows. He's going to have you punished. You'd best hurry and leave, right away." He opened his mouth to speak, but she cut him off. "Don't tell me where you're going; my father has spies everywhere and they'd hear. But if you value your life, you might go, right now."
"Princess," he said slowly. "I cannot. I... As much as I enjoyed—I knew we shouldn't have. I'll take my punishment."
"No!" she cried. "You mustn't! Please, please, leave this castle."
"I am a man of honor, my lady. I am not a coward."
She was growing desperate. "Please, Connor, you swore to protect me with your life. How can you protect me if you're dead?"
He froze. Underneath his bravado, she could see that he was still very young, and did not want to die. "I..." he said haltingly. "I cannot just abandon my duties."
"You must. It means your life. I am sorry that I have forced you to this, Connor, but here you are, and you must choose: your honor as a guard or your life. I beg you to choose life."
Connor stared at the ground. "I will choose. Please leave me now, Princess."
She reached a hand towards his face, feeling ashamed and regretful. She never touched him, though. Her hand wavered an inch away from his drawn skin, and she turned and fled, tears in her eyes.
****************************************************
Back in her room, Lily slammed the doors shut and dragged all of her supplies out from under the bed. She struggled out of her dress, ripping the sleeve in the process, but she supposed that it didn't matter. Shrugging the comfortable brown peasant dress on, she was surprised how well it fit. Next she put on the soft green boots. She stuck the dagger into the boots, knowing that she might well value its presence. She buckled the sword to her side, hiding it in a fold of the dress. Sweeping the food into her pack and drawing it closed, she hoisted it onto her back. She next covered her hair and chin with the grey wool shawl, pulling several of her ringlets loose and wetting them with water so they would lie dank, scraggling upon her face. Lastly, she picked up a piece of charcoal and blackened parts of her face, along with several of her teeth, ignoring the gritty taste in her mouth.
Looking at herself in the full-length mirror, she knew it was time. If she twisted her face just so, she was virtually unrecognizable. She would leave the castle by a side entrance and walk into the neighboring village. All anyone would remember was an ugly peasant woman with missing teeth. Later, when they discovered that she was missing, they would put two and two together and realize that the ugly peasant woman had, in fact, been the Princess Lily, and she had been heading into the village. They would give chase, but by that time, she would have doubled around and be deep in the forest. Thus she would not be caught, and the forest would be left unscathed.
At the door, she turned around and looked at her room one last time. Unbidden, tears came to her eyes and spilled onto her cheeks, leaving grimy paths on her dirty skin. She resisted the urge to wipe her eyes. It's fine. They'll make my eyes red, as if from drink, and it will provide me with an even more complete costume. Though she told herself that, she knew that the tears were of sadness and fear. I might never see my old room again.
But it was too late for second thoughts, too late for "what-ifs." She sniffled, took a deep breath, and opened her doors.
************************************************************
Off-duty now, Connor leaned against the warm stone wall of the castle, enjoying his time outside, and seriously considering what the Princess had told him. How could I have been such an idiot? The Princess is... wonderful, but how could I have let that cloud my judgment so much? He hung his head. I don't want to die, but I know I deserve whatever is coming to me. I seduced a virgin princess. He squinted up at the sun, knowing that it would likely be the last time he would ever see it. When he went back inside, he was sure to be arrested. He would be thrown in a dungeon and executed. Death's not so bad. Really.
As he gazed off into the distance, trying to prepare himself to be brave, he saw a shadow detach itself from the castle and hurry off towards the village. It's no one, just some old peasant. Worry about yourself, you idiot. Then he blinked. The peasant had looked somehow...familiar. Then a slender hand raised itself to adjust the woolen shawl that covered the peasant's head, and a recognizable black and white ring glinted on a finger. He knew that ring. Its owner had put her hand on his chest yesterday.
"Princess Lily!" he whispered in shock. "What are you—" He didn't finish the thought. All he knew was that she had to be in some sort of trouble, and he had sworn to protect her. Glancing around to make sure there was no one watching, he pushed himself away from the wall and followed after her.
pinkdragon: Thanks! I realize that this chapter doesn't have many characters in it, but I promise that more familiar characters will be showing up in coming chapters.
Mistress of Darkness: For starters, fabulous screenname. I'm glad you're enjoying it. As to whether Lily ends up with Darkness or not... You'll just have to wait and see. For that matter, so will I, since I haven't decided yet. I'm afraid that it seems like he'll be keeping a low profile for most of the story, but of course, that's subject to change.
-signpost