"And now for our special coverage of Princess Winter's visit to Mexico City, the first stop on her much publicized goodwill tour of Earthen capitals. She gets a royal welcome from the Americans as thousands cheer the gracious, young step-daughter of Levana Blackburn and cousin of newly coronated Queen Selene. After three days of continuous activity, Winter flew to London where she was welcomed by Her Royal Highness Queen Camilla. Then to Paris, where she attended many official functions designed to cement trade relations between her country and the Earthen nations. And so to Addis Abeba, where the Princess' visited hospitals and quarantine zones to personally distribute letumosis antidotes. The smiling, young Princess showed no sign of the strain of the week's continuous public appearances. And today her Royal Highness arrives in Sydney-"

Priya shut off the newsfeed, and Winter was grateful the momentary silence as she finished her breakfast.

"Well, it seems as if the media's outlook has really shifted in your favor," Priya looked down at her portscreen. "The other stations are reporting similarly. The hospital visits were a great idea. I'm a little disappointed I didn't think of myself."

Tashmi Priya was an event planner who had been hired to organize her goodwill tour. She was a nice lady, but Winter was beginning to wish she was a little less impeccable at her job. When she had agreed to help Cinder, she had no idea how exhausting it would be. She hated to even think that, though. It made her feel spoiled, guilty, fragile.

She took a deep breath, then a sip of juice.

She was not fragile. She was capable. She was strong. She was happy to help her queen make peace with the people of Earth. Consecutive 14 hour days were nothing she couldn't handle. Just greetings and meetings. Make a speech, give a wave, answer a question, force a smile, and hope that the headaches to just go away, go away, go away.

Be grateful they're not hallucinations.

"Are you alright?" Jacin was studying her.

She nodded.

She knew if she let on how bad it was, Jacin would insist on going home right away. And she couldn't have that. This was too important. And she did enjoy it; well, parts of it. Some of the American politicians weren't much better than the Artemisian aristocracy she'd loathed her whole life: vain, shallow, callous. But not everyone. And Earth was full of so many sights and sounds and smells she couldn't have even imagined on Luna. And she had a very vivid imagination.

Priya kept reading from her portscreen, "We have a busy schedule today: Eight thirty, breakfast here at the Embassy; nine o'clock, we leave for the Admiralty House for a photo shoot and press conference with the Governor-General, and of course we will be returning there for dinner tonight, but in the meantime you will go to the Royal Botanical Gardens . . ."

Winter leaned toward Jacin and whispered, "Do you think it will rain today?"

"I don't think so. Australia's in the middle of a drought."

Winter tried not be too disappointed. On Luna, it was always pleasant and mild underneath the climate-controlled biodomes, and it never precipitated. She had hoped desperately that when she came to Earth she would see snow for herself, but all she got in London in Paris was bitter cold.

"You're such a liar," she had told Jacin. "You said winter was beautiful. It's just grey and windy and freezing." Jacin has protested that he only ever said snow was beautiful. And that she looked sort of cute bundled up in layers of sweaters and scarfs.

Winter knew she had no hope of seeing snow here. Australia was just beginning their summer, but she'd thought maybe it would rain. .

"What about the beach? Can we go to the beach today?" she asked.

The Earthen climate had an effect on Jacin's wardrobe too. There hadn't been a sighting of his old guard uniform, all stiff fabric and silly epaulets, since the day they arrived in Mexico City. He wasn't one of Levana's things anymore. She also knew him well enough to know that he liked to blend in, but Winter didn't think it was working very well, because she couldn't keep her eyes off of him. Today he was wearing khaki slacks and a plain button down with the sleeves rolled up, exposing his toned forearm. She didn't think that should be as attractive as it was.

"I don't think there will be time. Pyria's got the day booked," he said. Winter frowned.

"Maybe I'll cause a diversion and you can sneak away," he said jokingly.

"A polar bear loose in the menagerie?" she asked. Long before revolutions and goodwill tours, before the crazy set in, when Jacin was going to be a doctor and when she would've laughed at the thought of calling him handsome, their favorite pastime was causing chaos in the palace. Playing pranks on the staff, or if they were feeling daring, members of the court. Running around the halls with little regard to the extravagance that surrounded them. One of the biggest stunts they pulled was convincing the gamekeepers that the polar bear had gotten loose. They had spent hours looking for it, the palace went on lockdown, when the whole time the bear never left it cage. Back when she still used her glamour.

Jacin laughed at the memory, she laughed too because it was so, so good to see him laugh, and before they knew it they were both doubled over in uncontrollable laughter.

Pryia set down her portscreen with a frustrated sigh. "I don't even want to know what's so funny."

After 10 hours in Australia, Winter thought she could safely say that she was not fond of Governor-General Kurt Williams. Australia itself was lovely. It was sunny and warm. There was fresh seafood and funny accents, and wherever in the city she went she could still smell the ocean. Williams was loud and crass. He had a shiny bald head and crooked teeth, and he never seemed to listen to what anyone else said. He liked his own voice too much, she thought.

Winter rubbed her temples discreetly. The headaches were coming back in full force. Right now, Williams was droning on about international trade relations at their diplomatic dinner.

"So, while I think it would be mutually beneficial economically if we could have free trade reopened, it's not a smart business venture if any Earthen worker can be manipulated by your Lunar tricks."

Winter briefly indulged herself imagining she was on the beach. She imagined the sun on her face and wet sand between her toes and the waves crashing on her legs. Then she focused on the room in front of her. The stiff wooden chairs and the economics talk and all the stern, old faces looking expectantly at her.

"General, as I know you're aware, with this new bioelectricity security system device, any Earthen who works with Lunars, anyone who fears they are being manipulated, can be protected."

Her voice, usually airy and melodious, sounded dull. There was no conviction in her words. Not because she didn't believe they were true, but because she was tired of saying them. Tired of answering the same questions. Tired of being polite. Tired of sitting up straight. Just tired.

"I already have a prototype right here," she pointed to her brain, "And the doctors plan to move forward with testing more soon."

She needed a break.

"If you're so worried about it, maybe you should volunteer to be a test subject," Winter smirked. "for I don't think they'll be on the market for a few more months."

She needed a diversion, she thought remembering Jacin's offer from earlier. A polar bear would make a better dinner guest than the Governor-General.

"It sounds nice in theory, but I can't see why anyone on your side would give it up."

"I did." Winter let the point hang in the air, making sure she had the room's attention before she pressed on.

"It's a horrible power. It's not a gift; it's a nightmare."

Williams floundered, trying to return the conversation to some normalcy."Well, sure, if you use it like Levana did. I'd just want to grow back my hair," he gestured to his balding head.

Anger brewed inside her. She had seen too many horrors at the hands of the so-called Lunar gift to listen to someone try to justify it. She could feel herself shaking. The pounding in her head was growing stronger.

"Yes, you could give yourself a head of luscious locks. Make yourself prettier. Taller. Trimmer. More muscles. More curves." Her eyes made their way around the table, taking a turn to glare at each person. The room fell silent, no silverware scraping plates, no mindless chatter. Just the crazy princess.

"You could look like whatever you want. Your favorite celebrity. The handsome stranger at your favorite shop."

Her eyes fell on Jacin. "Another's love."

His eyes were a warning.

"You could make them think they love you. Then, it be so easy to kill them, wouldn't it?" She turned to Williams and tilted her head curiously. His horrified expression almost made her laugh.

"You could stab someone to death and never pick up a knife."

Her head was screaming in pain. As she spoke, memories were rushing back to her: her father. Levana's cruel smirk. A box of sour apple petites. Jacin gasping for air as she choked him.

"Winter," Jacin's voice broke through the ringing pain.

She picked up her dinner knife and raised it above her plate.

There was a scraping sound as someone stood up from their chair quickly.

"Nine. Stabs. In. The. Chest." With each word she plunged the knife into the meat in front of her.

There were arms around her now. Jacin's arms.

"Winter, look at me. Calm down."

Breathe, she told herself. But she couldn't. She was gasping, crying, shaking.

Someone was pulling her, guiding her. Away from the dining room, she was lying on a couch. Jacin was kneeling in front of her.

"Hey Win, look at me." She met Jacin's eyes. "It's ok. You're going to be ok." He gently ran his fingers through her hair.

She breathed slowly. By the door Pryia was whispering with another woman. Jacin noticed where she was looking.

"The doctor. I think she's just going to give you a sedative. You need rest."

"I thought you were my doctor," she tried to smile flirtatiously, but she didn't trust how she must have looked.

Jacin's mouth was stern, but his eyes were sad. "And I tried to tell you that you were working yourself too hard. Was it the headaches? Or . . ?" He didn't finish the question. She hadn't seen bleeding walls or arctic wolfs in weeks, and both of them wanted to believe the hallucinations were gone for good.

"I'm ok." She reached out and rubbed the crease between his eyebrows, wishing she could rub away his fear. "You worry too much. I just need some sleep."

The doctor put something in her arm. She focused on Jacin, willing him, needing him to believe she was fine.

"Ok," he conceded. "I'll be right outside if you need me."

She nodded and closed her eyes. She waited until she heard the door close and then counted to ten. She was alone.

She hopped up and ran to the window. She took a deep breath of the salty air, feeling calm in a way she hadn't in a week, maybe longer. The breath turned into a yawn, but she didn't pay it any mind.

Standing in the window, hearing the sounds of the city an idea grew inside her. She had wanted a break; she had made a diversion.

Her whole life Winter had been plagued by a rebellious streak. As a child, she played pranks and caused trouble. As she grew up, she defied her step-mother and society's expectations at every turn. She sacrificed her sanity to give up her glamour. She fell in love with someone she could never be with. And when Cinder arrived, Winter inspired a rebellious streak in others. so wide and so powerful it toppled governments.

Carefully, Winter lowered herself until she was hanging from the ledge and then fell gracefully into the flower bed below. She quietly made her way across the lawn, ducking behind a tree to avoid security once, sneaking toward the water and off the grounds.

AN: I hope you enjoyed! This story was originally going to be for "Classic Hollywood" day, but then it completely changed, so sorry it took so long. This chapter and the next are heavily based on the 1953 film Roman Holiday starring Audrey Hepburn and Gregory Peck, a personal favorite.