It all started over two years ago.

No, it would be farther than that. It started when my mother lay dying. I was only four years old. My mother was a beautiful woman, and Father loved her very dearly. She was an excellent Queen, kind and compassionate, but she was possessive. Later I heard stories about how she had hated anyone of her own sex who looked on father as anything other than a king and a married man.

There were also rumors, spread by the servants, that she had made him promise something strange to her as she lay dying. It prevented him from marrying, at any rate: he needed a male heir to continue the line, and his wife had only borne a girl-child.

I knew very little of this. Father was my friend, he loved me as his only child. I had servants, fine clothes, food. Right now, I would have taken almost anything for food, and would gladly take some humble peasant's gown instead of this hideous cloak I currently wore.

Anyway, when I seventeen, I was exploring the castle. I had just finished formal schooling by a governess, and had been getting bored for some time without classes to fill the void. I could have associated with other young ladies of my own age, but they were dull and had no interest beyond the next ball. I liked balls like any young person would, but they were not my life.

I was exploring, and I decided to go in Father's rooms. I had been in there before, but I wanted to explore a little. After all, there were several drawers and closed trunks, and I was naturally curious. I went in. The chambers were very solemn, all dark woods and evergreen velvet upholsteries. Very elegant and royal, and suited to His Majesty. I eagerly began snooping, hoping to find something beyond value. Fifteen minutes later, I had finished with the majority of bigger drawers. The majority of drawers were filled with papers, contracts, and other information. Some had been interesting, but others had been just plain dull.

I came upon a smaller drawer in a corner. I tried to open it, but it was locked. Smiling at the minor obstacle, I took a hairpin out of my dark tresses and began fiddling with the key-hole. A few seconds later, I had opened the drawer and seen some very interesting objects.

The first was a portrait of my mother. Like I had overheard from the servants, she was indeed a beauty. Long, ebony hair contrasted well with her creamy skin and dark green eyes. The portrait made her look unusually petite, but who could really tell? The next was my parents' wedding certificate, singed by the royal bishop. The third object was a beautiful ring. Silver, shaped like a lily wrapped around in a circular shape. In the middle of the lily was a midnight-blue sapphire. Along with the ring was a necklace and a brooch. The necklace was much like the ring, small, delicate, with a lily in the middle and a sapphire in the middle. The brooch was elaborately wrought with lilies and leaves, with a matched set of sapphires set in between. They were all exquisite.

Now, being the curious creature I am, I tried the ring on. It fit perfectly, too perfectly in fact. When I tried to take it off, I could not. It just wanted to stay there on my hand, perfectly content to not move an inch. I spent a good half-hour trying to take it off, but to no avail.

Now I started to worry. In a few minutes, my father would be coming up. I could leave, but he would see me at dinner. I was almost certain the ring, and the brooch and necklace, had belonged to my mother. He would surely recognize it, and I did not want to upset him. I hurried back to my room, and secured some cloth. I wrapped it around my offending finger, hoping to put him off. I would say I had cut my hand, and no one would be any the wiser until I could figure out how to get it off.

No such luck. That night at dinner, he immediately noticed the bandaged finger.

"Darling, what's wrong with your finger?"

"Nothing at all. I only cut it while sewing." He immediately noticed my odd tone. I noticed it myself. I also never sewed. I never wished to, and thus, never did so.

"I wish to see it after dinner." With that supposedly settled, he continued his meal peacefully.

I however, was horribly nervous. I had absolutely no idea what his reaction would be like, and I feared not knowing. I barely ate any dinner at all.