Disclaimer: PD and its' characters are the property of Meg Cabot and Disney. I own only the storyline here.

Choices

Part 1

She couldn't recall how she got here, nor where she even was. Her head hurt and her vision was quite blurry, but she seemed to be otherwise fine. She was warm and lying on a small, but comfortable, bed. The room was small and would have been rather dark if not for the small crack under the door. She sat up and carefully stood. She would be fine. Her eyes were adjusting. She slowly made her way toward the light. Reaching out for the knob, she startled as it turned itself.

Meanwhile, at the palace...

The palace was alive. Most of the staff swore the King was going to give himself a heart attack or stroke. He yelled. He had been yelling all morning. It was two minutes short of being noon, and his wife was missing. Again.

"Sire, she will return, as before," announced the royal head of security, trying to calm his King and employer.

"Her whereabouts should be known to you sir!"

"My men and I cannot watch her every step, your majesty. You know that. She was escorted to her suite shortly before midnight. Guards stood at her door all night. No one went in or out of those doors. Security cameras caught nothing on tape, sire..."

He was cut off by a fuming King. "So you think she just evaporated! YOU FIND MY WIFE! NO excuses. Just find her. I want every inch of this palace and the grounds searched immediately, use every option available. Do you understand?"

"Yes, your majesty." With those words he turned and excused himself, not waiting for a proper moment to exit, knowing one would never come. As head of security he had dealt with his Queen too many times. That woman was trouble for him. He had lost count of the number of times she had "run off". His men were as tired of her fiascos as he. He immediately set out to search for himself, after all, she was his responsibility.

King Rupert paced the foyer, yelling at whoever happened along. She was not there for him to express his anger at her. She had, no doubtedly, ran off again. With each moment that passed, his heart grew a little more cold and a little more cruel. "She'll get hers," he promised himself.

Queen Clarisse took a deep breath and begun to speak. She had gotten no further than the parting of her lips when he spoke.

"I take it you slept well?"

"I demand to know where I am," she quickly retorted. As she spoke she scanned him over. He was a dashing man, well dressed, and although she couldn't see his eyes she could almost feel them on her.

"You don't need to know that quite yet. Let's just say that due to your husbands stupidity and arrogance you will be inconvienced for awhile. I don't plan on making this some kind of horror story, but if you make your stay hard on me, then it will be hard on you. "

"You...you can't do this...I demand to be taken home."

"You are not in the position for demanding anything, Queenie." He lowered his glasses, smiled at her open mouth and lack of words, and turned to leave.

She was jolted into reality when she heard the lock click.

He had gotten himself into doing this job, and now it was too late to back out. All he had to do was keep her until he recieved word to let her go. He knew little of what was actually going on, he didn't need nor really want to know. All he knew was that the money from this job would last him for two lifetimes. He would be free from jobs like these, and could do what he wanted with his time.

She was brought to him early, and he could remember the light from the moon shining on her face as she was carried inside. The men had dropped her on the floor, gave him his simple instructions, and left. He knelt beside her and was amazed at her beauty. She was beautiful. He felt almost scared to touch her, but when he finally did it sent shivers down his spine. He lifted her off the floor, almost angry at them for dropping her there. She didn't belong there. He carried her into one of the extra rooms and gently layed her on the bed. He spent several minutes admiring her, almost too tempted to take a real look. He would need to only release a few buttons and move the material away...oh gods did he want to. He couldn't bring himself to do it though. She deserved more than that. He couldn't even reason with himself. He could do anything to her...touch her anywhere...and yet, he couldn't. He wouldn't. He felt protective of her. Only minutes alone with her and already she had a power over him.

He sat next to the phone, tuning into the local channel on the television. News of her disapperance would not be broadcast, not yet. However he was already looking forward to seeing her again, whether it be in the next room with her or on television. He sighed, trying to relax himself.

Meanwhile back at the palace...

"Sir, all of the upper floors have been searched, the kitchen, the libraries, the garage, but the grounds search team have not reported back."

"Search again!" his voice boomed almost as loud as King Rupert. It made the guards jump, and the windows rattle. He had to find her. It had been several hours now, and still no sign of her. She intrigued him. How could one woman manage such a maneuver. Oh she had done it before. She had alluded the palace security. However, never him. It was never him she had slipped by. He was always off duty or off the premises when she disappeared. It was his men, the men that he trained, that he somehow trusted. It was them that could not keep track of her. "Failure," he spoke under his breathe. He was a failure to himself, and his employer. Hell he was a failure to the whole country. He was most certain now that his job was at stake. Not only his job, but more his reputation. He couldn't help admit to himself that he liked her games. He liked the cat and mouse game she always got him into. It brought variety and humor to his life. So did she. She was extraordinary, in every way. The way she ran, the way she returned without a care, the way she stood strong against a husband who held every hand against her. He felt sorry for her in a way. Yes she was Queen, and had everything anyone could want...but did she? He almost understood what it was like for her, and why she needed to run. For the last four years she had been married to a man who almost hated her. "She would have been better off as a prisoner of war someplace," he thought to himself. He swallowed hard, trying to forget the past year. The past year...

The sun was up and shining in through her window now. She couldn't see far. Only a few yards before the trees grew dense. It was chilly outside, her hand on the glass tingled with the cold. Clarisse looked down, it was only several yards. She had jumped that in the stables last year trying to hide from that damn head of security of hers. She could, why not? She tip-toed over to the door and leaned her head against it. Voices, from a television, it had to be. Where would he be? She let her mind wander what he would be doing, and finally caught herself. "Why should I care what he's doing?"

Carefully she raised the window, slowly and painstakingly she avoided any possible noise. The screen, that would be difficult, but not undoable. Several minutes went by as Clarisse pushed the screen until it hit the ground below. He heart sank as it hit the solid ground, making an eerie rattle. He would come. He's coming. Now. He would come. He would come in, look at her with those eyes, those deep rich eyes, and ask her what she thought she was doing. He would come and look at her. Yes, he would.

WAIT. She was trying to get out, not trying to get his attention. She wanted to get back home, to get back to her husband and grand palace...didn't she? Yes she did. When several moments had past and he didn't enter, she slipped one leg over the sill, then the other. Looking down and holding a breath, she dropped.