III

Princess Sonny managed to make it through the first batch of suitors showing only mild disdain. She smiled ruefully when the various prince "charmings" and their less-than-heroic cousins trampled in, showing off their wares. Some of them barely acknowledged her presence in the room, concerned more with impressing her father. Sonny figured most of the princes were not firstborns, or were otherwise unlikely to inherit much beyond a title, and were subsequently looking to win a kingship. The bride was fairly irrelevant to them. Just looking at how they strut around like damp peacocks made Sonny want to hit them repeatedly with a bazooka.

In all fairness, the day did have some highpoints. Sonny could barely stop giggling when one Prince (Nico, she thought his name was) vowed his undying love for her mother, kissing her hand. Apparently he mistook the queen for the advertised princess.

The queen's cheeks flushed a bright roseate tone. King Grady just rolled his eyes.

Prince Nico, looking quite dashing in an ornate orange brocade overcoat, recovered quickly. "I would apologize for my error, Your Majesty. But I can hardly blame myself for faltering in the presence of such other-worldly beauty." His lips curved into the slyest of grins.

The queen looked somewhat taken aback, drawing her hand to her chest nervously. She smiled back, though visibly embarrassed.

Nico looked over at Sonny, who sat to the side of her parent's dais, and winked at her before joining the other suitors at the refreshment buffet. Sonny shook her head, smirking. That one was sure a character.

When the last suitor of the day, an old near-sighted prince named Fickelbaum, finished with his formal introductions (a twenty minute recitation of excerpts from Ovid's Art of Love)—he walked straight into a marble pillar, taking it for a doorway. The queen trailed after him, checking to make sure he was okay. But King Grady and Princess Sonny sat motionless on their thrones, afraid that any conversation with the man might tempt him to begin another oration. Even royalty can only take so much boredom for one day. Plus, they were looking forward to snacks.

-}}ï{{-

Sonny sat in the kitchen, eating a cheese and pepper sandwich, while her father took out their secret stash of raspberry tarts from behind the spice cabinet. He served his daughter two of the flower shaped pastries, and himself three, before returning the box securely to its hiding place.

"Father?"

"Yes, daughter."

"I don't think any of the men we saw today are a right fit for our kingdom." Sonny said the words slowly, thoughtfully, her mouth still full of sandwich.

"For the kingdom or for you?" The exasperated tone from yesterday was gone now.

"Both. Either."

King Grady took a bite of his cookie, crunching it in his mouth. "At least it's only the first day."

Sonny grimaced, pushing her plate of tarts away. Her appetite lessened at the prospect of a suitor-filled future.

"You have to give this a chance, Sonny. It's how things are done. The kingdom needs the kind of security only a strong prince can provide."

"The thing is," Sonny said, being completely honest, "it doesn't matter how many men respond to your little advertisement. I'm not a dog up for breeding. I can't imagine meeting someone, and being willing to marry him on the spot. Except maybe if he's a Jonas Brother." She'd meant the last part as a joke, but her father seemed to take it seriously.

"Sonny dear, brethren in monasteries take vows of celibacy." He paused for a moment, his gaze shifting uncomfortably. "Your mother can explain what that word means later."

She sighed. "Father, what rock have you been living under? The Jonas Brothers are musicians. Not monks from the old Jonehs Monastery."

"You mean those traveling fiddlers you go on about? Tsht! That union will not happen as long as I'm around. They wear their pants too tight. It's indecent."

Sonny smirked and was about to say that she thought their pants fit quite nicely. They certainly had the figure for it (that mental picture made her grin all the more lecherous). But she knew she had to pick her battles wisely. She needed to win this war.

"What about Sir Zacharias Effronicus from Glitzandglam?" King Grady asked, offering a less than subtle suggestion. "I've heard the young girls go on about him. He's handsome. Not to mention a fantastic jouster."

Sonny let her mouth hang open for a moment before responding. "You're right, dad. Zac is definitely a catch. And I might not be completely horrified if he wasn't Tawni's older brother. Oh wait. That makes him your sister's son and my first cousin." Talk about gross.

King Grady feigned mild surprise. "Oh, that's right."

Sonny eyed her father knowingly. "You just want him so we can start winning the jousting tournaments. As long as Auntie's team has Zac, we'll never beat them."

King Grady pouted his lips-caught but unwilling to admit it.

Sonny spoke softly now, letting her words spread like butter on a hot potato. "In all seriousness, if this prince business doesn't work out, Father, we'll have to try something different. After all, even if the most strapping young man comes along, he can't be the future king without me. And if I somehow left, you're the one who wouldn't have an heir. And what good would that do the kingdom?"

King Grady stopped munching on his cookie, the claret filling suddenly very tart. Was his daughter implying she would run away and leave him without an heir if he forced her hand? Or had he misunderstood her? Yes, that must be it. Women were not capable of developing complicated schemes-unless they were evil faeries, of course, in which case they must be imprisoned as heretics before polluting the minds of the rest of their sex. He narrowed his eyes, examining his daughter more closely.

She just smiled at him, her eyes twinkling.

-}}ï{{-

Two mornings later, King Grady and Queen Portlyn had to leave in the middle of meet-and-greet with the day's suitors to tend to business at the border. The King instructed his daughter to continue the selection process without him, careful to behave in a matter befitting a young lady. He promised to be with his daughter in spirit, though for the time he must depart.

Sonny waited three minutes after he left before trying to escape.

"Psst," Sonny hissed, motioning her cousin over. "Tawni!"

Princess Tawni eyed Sonny cautiously. She'd come to the palace on an errand for her mother, but had taken a detour to observe the infamous line of would-be-throne-stealers. She walked over to her cousin, if only to get Sonny to stop embarrassing them both with her feeble attempts at whispering. "What do you want? And lower your voice already. You sound like a dying squirrel."

Sonny ignored the jibe. "My dad's going to be gone for the rest of the morning."

"So?"

"Fill in for me."

"No way!"

"Please, Tawni. I'll do anything. The archers are having a preliminary tournament and if I leave now I'll catch it in time to see the winner." Princess Sonny was a master at begging. She had no shame, and would throw herself on the ground if that's what it took to get you to play along with her plots.

Tawni knew this well, as she'd given in to her on too many occasions to count. Today however, she would be strong. A pillar of resolve. "I don't care. It's your job to sort through these buffoons. And if my mother found out, she'd have me scrubbing my brother's armor for a week. These hands are not cut out for scrubbing."

"Pretty please?" Sonny had progressed to batting her eyelashes innocently. "I'll make it worth your while."

Tawni paused. How so?

Sonny noticed her hesitation and smiled a small, wicked smile. "You know that tiara mother bought me on the Continent?"

Tawni's eyes widened. "Platinum setting with the moonstone inlets?"

Sonny nodded, that was the one. "It's yours."

Tawni didn't even blink, impatiently waving Sonny away so she could take her place on the throne. "Deal."

-}}ï{{-

Watching the last trio of arrows slicing straight into their crimson target, Sonny felt like she could breathe for the first time in days. While not everyone recognized archery as such, to Sonny it was nothing if not graceful. She admired the way the archers set their eye on a faraway goal, and with a single quick motion, it was theirs. Precise, resolute, perfect.

"Enjoying the show?"

Sonny turned around from her spot on the fence line, meeting the gaze of her favorite archer's apprentice. "Immensely," she said, smiling a little too brightly.

Nate moved to the spot beside her, leaning over the fence's uppermost plank. "I'm glad, Princess."

Sonny looked over at the tournament again. They were crowning the finalists. "Shouldn't you be out there?" she asked, referring to the field. "Collecting stray arrows or something."

He laughed. "It's my day off. And only senior attendants work the field in a tournament."

Nate looked over at the crowd of spectators sitting in bleachers. The aristocrats had special seating in velvet-lined tents. He looked over at Sonny, repeating her earlier question to him. "Shouldn't you be over there?" He nodded in the direction of the other courtiers.

But while Nate was surveying the crowd, Sonny was studying the way his dark green tunic clung tightly to the muscles on his upper arm. It was an exercise in self-control not to trace her finger along the velour fabric of his sleeve. Slowly her hearing caught up to the rest of her brain. "Hmph?" she said, shaking her head a little in confusion. "Oh no. I'm not supposed to be there. Or here for that matter. I had to sneak out just to see the end. It was worth it though." She met his eyes, tilting her head a little. "Walk me back?"

He wanted to say it would be the utmost honor to walk her to the palace, a privilege he didn't deserve. But he couldn't think of how to say that without sounding like an idiot. He settled for "Gladly, Princess" and hoped that the heat he felt on his face wasn't showing.

From the way the princess smiled back at him, it probably was.

As they walked along, Nate noticed a strange set of carriages—all with jet black horses at the helm—just outside the castle gates. "Are there visitors to the palace today?"

"Unfortunately."From the Princesses' tone, he could tell she didn't feel like discussing it further.

He let it drop.

-}}ï{{-

Inside the palace, something sinister was taking place. Badness lurked in the air. The small kingdom, so isolated from the more worldly forms of trouble, was not prepared for it.

A troop of knights, decked in black and purple body armor, stood ominously in the center of the room. Their leader had fair hair and pronounced cheekbones, a seemingly permanent smirk plastered on his face-as though laughing inwardly at a private joke. At your expense.

The knight stepped forward and the room quieted. Even his tone was mocking. "Good evening, gentlefolk," he said. "My name is Sir Chad Dylan Cooper. You may have heard of me. Though I suppose it's possible you haven't. This backwards little kingdom is pretty far off the beaten path."

He did a bit of a roundabout, like a circus ringleader, evaluating the crowd. "It's no matter. What does matter is that my master has sent me on an errand."

One of the lesser knights, a large man with freckled skin, handed his leader a scroll. Sir Chad Dylan Cooper unrolled the parchment and read the first line. "Attention citizens of—" He paused. "What's the name of this place?"

Someone in the crowd filled in the blank. "Sorandoma."

Chad continued, clearing his throat. "Sorandoma, your kingdom has been annexed by the Mighty Condor Empire. The Emperor's first command is that you hand over your silver and your gold."

The spectators clamored loudly at that last bit. The loss of one's gold is apparently a universal signal to panic.

Princess Tawni, who had been sitting cross legged on the throne, stood up. "I think your little charade has gone on long enough. I am no longer amused."

Chad turned to look at her, tilting his head. "Ah, the princess. I was wondering when you were going to intervene." He smiled at her wickedly and then turned to survey the crowd again. "In the event that you are unwilling to comply with Emperor Condor's demands—we have instructions to take the royal family prisoner. You'll find that your king and queen are already in our custody. Maybe that will help you with your decision."

Tawni narrowed her eyes. "Guards!" she called, her gaze not leaving the knights face. "Dispose of these intruders."

The guards moved forward, their weapons drawn. But they weren't fast enough for the kind of tactics the rival soldiers brought with them. The second in command to Chad took out a purple grenade. Releasing the cap, he tossed it in the direction of the guards—rendering them completely immobile, like statues in a garden.

At this point, Princess Sonny and Nate entered the throne room from the main hallway. They looked at each other, trying to make sense of the scene—the panicked faces of the people. There was only thing they understood: something was going wrong. Very wrong. Sonny moved through the crowd of people, Nate at her heels. They pushed forward, until they were near the front of the room, just behind the dark clad men.

All Nate heard was a blonde boy in dark armor say, "Princess, you're coming with me," before he took action. Nate pulled Sonny behind him and stepped in front of her, his hand gripping and loading his crossbow in less time than it would take to blink. But he didn't have time to release it.

Chad had pulled out a canister of his own—clear with an iridescent gray liquid swirling inside it. He lifted an eyebrow, chuckling quietly before dropping it to the ground. The room filled with a heavy white cloud—making it difficult to breathe, let alone see. People everywhere coughed, gasping for air. Someone near the wall opened the windows, allowing in the breeze.

When the gas-cloud finally cleared there was only one thing everyone in the room noticed. The princess was gone.

To be continued...

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Note: Hello lovely readers.

I'm sorry it took unforgivably long to get this chapter out. I wouldn't be surprised if a lot of you lost interest-it's easy to forget about a story when it hasn't been updated in almost a month. O_o Special apologies to pyro. I promised you this by last weekend—which makes it really sad/pathetic/distressing that I've only posted it now.

It took me a really long time to introduce Chad. I knew how I wanted to portray him, but not how to do it (if that makes sense?); I had to go and read one of my favorite books of all time (King of Attolia) for inspiration. I'm still not all that pleased with my introduction of him, but it's better nothing. Don't worry—he's not completely evil. Even if he seems that way here.

Eek, this author's note is getting disgustingly long. Rather than apologizing again I'm going to say | T h a n k | Y o u | to every single reviewer. Your support and encouragement means so much. It makes writing this all the more fun. Keep it up. I need your reviews. :)