Hello, I am reposting this story on a new account as my old email was hacked! Sorry for the confusion and wait!


Prologue: 11 years ago

"I wish you didn't have to go, Grandmother."

Marie, the Dowager Duchess, looked down at the youngest of her six grandchildren. Though she would never admit it out loud, it was clear to all who knew them that Isabella was her grandmother's favorite.

The sentiment was mutual. Isabella's bright, wide eyes began to rapidly water as she clung to Marie's robe. At the ripe age of nine, she couldn't imagine greater devastation than having her grandmother leave. She was her staunchest ally, her fiercest protector, and absolute best friend.

"I wish the same," Marie murmured, caressing Isabella's mahogany locks. "But I'll be back before you know it. I've some things to attend to in Volterra."

Isabella looked down, feeling miserable despite Marie's reassurances. She couldn't articulate the dread she felt in her gut. Sighing, Marie bent down and held her fist out. As soon as Isabella looked, Marie opened her hand to reveal a dainty but beautiful necklace. It was gold, the pendant brilliant with the words Together in Volterra engraved.

Isabella gasped excitedly, holding her hair up so Marie could secure it around her neck.

"It's for me, right?" She asked excitedly. Isabella loved gifts.

"Yes, to remind you that I'm always with you. Even when I'm away."

"I love it! And I have my music box too," Isabella said happily. She gently caressed the tiny box on her desk, the emerald and gold design luminous under her lamp.

"Yes, your necklace is the key for that too. Now goodnight, my little love."

Satisfied for the night, Isabella let herself be tucked into bed and drift away under the moon's light.

.

.

Isabella awoke to a series of discordant sounds.

For a few moments, she couldn't place what she heard until the unmistakable blast of a gun rang through the night.

She sat up with a gasp, scrambling off her bed towards the door. Before she could turn the knob, she was startled by the sudden burst of the door. She could just barely make out the face of a slightly older boy, pale with urgent emerald eyes and bronze curls. Confused at his sudden appearance, she belatedly registered his words as he pushed her back into the darkness of her room.

"Princess, collect your things!" He yelled frantically, making sure to promptly shut and lock the door before resting his body against it.

"What is happening?"

"We don't have time for this." He said, not bothering to hide his irritation. "Your whole family is in great danger. I guess the rumors ended up being true; Aronov has managed to plan an attack on the imperial family. He plans to leave no survivors. Now hurry."

Isabella's eyes grew wide, and any lingering sleepiness passed quickly. She jumped into action, making sure to collect what she could.

The young boy placed his hand on hers, stilling her movements and pulling her towards a wall.

"Wait!" Isabella gasped, reaching for the emerald music box.

The young boy pulled at her arm again, trying his best to be gentle despite the rising fear in his stomach.

"There is no time to wait. Leave it!"

"I won't!" she yelled, "I won't."

"Do you want to be shot in the head?" The boy yelled. He could hear the shouting, screaming, and running happening outside. It was only a matter of time before someone remembered the youngest royal, and he knew once that happened, it would mean certain death for them both.

Isabella's eyes grew wide as a quiet sob broke out. "No," she whispered.

The boy sighed, pulling them once again to a seemingly ordinary wall. Isabella was shocked to see the wall open and reveal a passageway. The boy could almost taste their freedom.

That was until both children heard the thunderous bang on the bedroom door. Isabella yelped, curling into the boy's body subconsciously.

"Shit," muttered the boy, who appeared much too young to be using such foul language, Isabella thought.

"Isabella? Isabella!" At the sound of her beloved grandmother's voice, Isabella ran to the door.

The boy pulled her back, pushing her behind him. He felt Isabella's stinging smack before her words followed.

"Stop pulling me around, boy! It's my grandmother! Open the door!"

"My name isn't boy; it's Edward!"

"Stop pulling me around, Edward!"

"Isabella! Oh, wake up darling, please!" Momentarily forgetting their quarrel, the pair turned towards the door together. Edward slowly peeked before fully opening the door as Marie rushed in.

"Oh, thank god! Thank god!" Marie barely noticed Edward shutting the door before engulfing Isabella in her arms. "We have very little time. We must leave at once."

"Ok. Can Edward come with us?"

"Edward?" Marie asked.

"Your majesty," Edward murmured, bowing his head as he'd been taught. "I can help you escape using the servant's passageways. Follow me quickly."

With no time to ask the questions she wanted, Marie clasped both children's hands in her own and let them lead the way.

"Ladies first," Edward said, letting the royals enter ahead of him.

"Thank-"

The loud barrage of automatic weapons outside her door interrupted Isabella's words. Moments later, the bedroom door cracking under the weight of the rebels hits.

"GO!" Edward yelled urgently. Isabella hesitated a moment, wanting to pull him with them. She watched in silent horror as Edward began closing the secret wall, not following.

"Come!" she begged one last time, scared that she would never see the boy who saved her alive again.

"Goodbye, Princess." He whispered, firmly closing the wall and once again camouflaging the passageway.

.

.

.

Isabella could barely make out anything, her tears blurring her eyes. She was so confused. Why was this happening? Who could want to hurt her family? Where was her family? Were they alive? Would she make it out alive?

She didn't know, but even at her young age, she knew she had to try, or she'd die anyway.

Marie had expertly guided them outside the palace to a waiting car, promptly driving them to the train station. Marie couldn't be sure about anything, but it was relayed that the city was in chaos as word of the attack spread.

Both royals used the cover of scarfs to hide as well as they could. It wasn't much, but the cover of the night helped as well.

The absolute anarchy made it nearly impossible for Marie to make sense of much. Still, Dimitri, the driver, had informed that the last train out of the city was set to leave soon and that the royals could quickly hop on if they could run to the platform in time.

Marie wasted no time pulling Isabella as she sprinted the best she could. She was glad that she was a young grandmother, only in her mid-fifties.

"Hurry, Isabella, Hurry!"

Isabella was much smaller, making it hard for her to catch up. As they neared the train, pushing past bodies, Marie reached out.

"Wait!" She yelled, "Wait!"

"Take my hand!" A man yelled as the train began to move. Desperate to save herself and her granddaughter, Marie sped up to catch his hand. As he began to pull her body onto the cart, she could feel Isabella's hand slip. Marie felt ill as she looked back in time to see Isabella slip, her head cracking loudly against the rigid platform.

"No!" Marie shrieked, attempting to jump off the cart. Several men held the older woman back, knowing that she would surely die if she succeeded. "No! Please! Please!"

She didn't know what she was begging for, but she prayed and prayed and prayed for her grandaughter's life.

And she vowed that if she were still alive, she'd find her.

She'd find her beloved Isabella.