A/N: Hi! Sorry for the long wait. I was really busy since September and October are one of the busiest months in our school, and I was also trying to figure out what the hell I should do about Fall For You. Anyway, here's the chapter.

"Your Majesty?"

There were grunts and noises of something heavy being shifted behind the door before the person finally knocked politely. It was a brief knock, not too urgent sounding, not too nonchalant either. Brandon looked up from his mountain of paperwork, his tired hand abruptly stopping halfway through veto'ing some man's obnoxious law suggestion after a dispute between him and his neighbor's dog. It's been two decades already, when will that guy's complaints stop? He thought wryly as he cleared his throat, "Come in, Lemuel."

The servant complied and came in the office. A nest of short, reddish-brown hair, freckles dancing across tanned cheeks, dark blue eyes were half-lidded as he was adorned in an ornate servant's outfit designed by the fashion-savvy late queen herself, Lemuel stood in front of the king's desk and did an obligatory bow. Brandon couldn't help but notice two large suitcases out in the hallway accompanied with a smaller duffle bag, and immediately knew what the servant had to say.

"What is it, boy?" Brandon asked, cheek on his palm like a school girl being told some juicy gossip, his paperwork forgotten. He had this habit of acting casual around Palace staff and even aristocrats and other royals as if they were all buddies, which wasn't a bad thing, per se, but it can get a bit out of hand sometimes...

"Prince Stiles wanted me to inform you that he and Princess Brittany have arrived," The servant muttered, "They are currently in the throne room with a friend, waiting for you, Sire."

"I can already tell my daughter is here," Brandon stood up from his seat and motioned towards the large suitcases out in the hallway. Lemuel gave a strained smile, one of his eye twitching. For some reason, the princess always loved to make this one specific servant have a hard time with her, Brandon almost bets that Brittany purposely brought two large suitcases so that 'Lemy' would carry it. The king laughed and ruffled the servant's head as if he was his son, he always did that to palace staff. "You'll pull through it."

Lemuel's smile was still strained. "Thank you, Sire," he bowed and left, struggling to carry the suitcases.

Brandon watched the servant struggling, pity written on his face, before shaking his head and walking to the opposite direction.

...

A metallic thud sounded throughout the nearly empty palace halls as a pair of thin-rimmed, round spectacles made contact with the shiny marble floors. The owner of the spectacles picked it up with a scowl as she and her friends entered the halls. The guards were hesitant in letting the teenagers in at first because, on one hand, four of them were close friends of the princess and prince, but on the other hand, they weren't really invited and not to mention one of the boys were considered a minor threat. But in the end, the guards thought, ah screw it, and let them in. They wouldn't be much trouble anyway...right?

Right?

"Why do your glasses keep falling off?" Leon asked as he and his squadmates, plus his two fairy friends, walked through the halls. Most of his squad mates gawked at the grand halls and what it held, being here for the first time after all, while Leon and his friends didn't even bat an eye, having spent some chunks of their childhood playing in this Palace and many others back in the day.

"No idea," Celine frowned, shoving the glasses back on her face.

"Probably hates her face." One of Leon's squadmates, Spark, snorted. Fair, nearly pale skin, bright teal eyes, a somewhat scrawny build, and dull purple, frizzy hair in an undercut making it look like a half-shaved bush. He was wearing a standard Red Fountain uniform with a maroon gem holding his cape in place. The boy may not look much but if one were to take a look at where he came from then they'd definitely think twice about messing with him.

Celine scowled but didn't say anything. "Why even wear glasses in the first place, though? Last time I checked, you don't really need those glasses," Callum pointed out.

"It's for aesthetic purposes, brother, you wouldn't understand," Celine told him, turning away like a brat. Callum sighed and shrugged.

"Where did you get those glasses, anyway?"

"Found it while snooping around our basement." She said, taking it off to look at it. "It's not prescription glasses so it's not father's, and I don't think my late mother was the type to wear fake glasses. So honestly, I don't know where it came from but I love it."

Max took off her headphones and looked up, stopping her tracks. "Wait, where are we even going?" Everyone else stopped their tracks.

"I don't even know what we're supposed to do here so don't look at me," Another Specialist, Damian, said, holding his hands up as he shook his head. Pale skin, light blonde hair, and pale blue eyes.

Leon wanted to slap himself, "Oh, right, damn," He looked around, "Does anyone know where Hans could be?" Everyone shrugged, and Leon sighed. "Okay, to make this easier, let's split up." He turned to Max, "Since you know the palace way better than the rest of us, you'll be the leader of a group consisting of you, Callum, Damian, and Nick." Max grumbled something under her breath but nodded nonetheless. Leon turned to another one of his squadmates. "Rover, since you're a great navigator, you'll lead the rest of us. Cool?"

Rover nodded. Tanned skin, tousled jet black hair, and blue hipster glasses behind half-lidded brown eyes. "Sure, whatever."

"Okay, let's split up!"

...

"Ahh, what a pain..." Philip sighed heavily as he walked through the grand halls, frowning at his current situation. Though he was walking to try and clear his mind, the woman's words still lingered in his head. "How am I supposed to find such a small mirror in this huge palace? I can't even find my dad most of the time-" He cut himself off as he felt a prick in his chest and a sting of tears in his eyes.

His father.

"No," He muttered, wiping the unnecessary tears and shaking his head furiously. "Don't think about it. Don't think about it. Don't think about it-" His chanting was cut off as groans sounded throughout the halls. Philip looked up and saw large and heavy-looking suitcases being carried by a scrawny servant. Lemy, he recalled, also known as Brittany's personal slave. "Um, hey," He said once the servant was passing by him.

Lemy groaned as he gave one more push, before standing straight and turning to Philip. "Oh, hey! Philip, right?"

"That's me." Philip smiled. Suddenly, he saw flashes of green pass behind Lemy and he instantly felt dread, though he tried not to show it. The cursed twins.

The servant didn't notice Philip's sudden panicked expression, and he seemed oblivious of the twin children playing around behind him. "How have you been?" Lemy doesn't bring up the recent incident, he doesn't think it's very appropriate for a mere servant to do.

"Um, not very well but you know why," Philip said. He needed to get out of here, both him and Lemy. He looked down at the suitcases and an idea popped into his head. "Do you need any help with that?" He asked, pointing at the suitcases.

Lemy looked at where he pointed and his face lit up. "Oh! That'd be really great- but are you sure? Don't you have anything else to do?"

The twins were climbing a pillar, the girl trying to shove her brother off with her foot while the boy clung for his life. "Yeah, no problem, let's go," He tried carrying one of the suitcases and it was heavier than he thought. What are in these? Cement? He thought wryly as he and Lemy began to walk, with him trying to walk as fast as possible without Lemy noticing. Philip looked back briefly and saw that the male child, Pollo, was on the verge of falling off.

"Ahh!" A scream sounded throughout the halls, followed by a thud. Philip flinched while Lemy was startled.

"What was that?!" The servant turned around sharply, so sharply in fact that in the processs he accidentally knocked the suitcase off. The fall was hard and so the suitcase was knocked open, its contents spilling. "Oh no!" Lemy panicked as Philip looked up, the twins were gone. Philip sighed as he went down on his knees and helped Lemy put the fallen belongings back. It was filled with mostly clothing, some beauty products, and few other objects.

While folding back a dress, there was a sudden glint of light in his peripheral vision. Philip stopped what he was doing and tried looking for whatever it was. "Did you see that?" He asked Lemy, who was placing back clothes in the suitcase.

"See what?" Lemy asked after placing the clothing, before picking something up and Philip's eyes suddenly widened.

In Lemy's hand, was a small hand mirror.

...

They were in the throne room, waiting for the King. Brittany and Hansel were loudly debating over which kingdom was the best or something along those lines, while Stiles was leaning on the wall, arms crossed, pondering about something. He definitely gave off a different vibe than what he usually lets on, but no one really paid any mind to him. Suddenly, the doors opened and the two heirs stopped their bantering, turning to the door and seeing a familiar head of brown hair and a warm smile.

"Daddy!"

Brittany approached her father with the extreme tackle-hug combo, causing the brunette man to groan and stagger at the sudden force. Though, after a few moments, Brandon looked at his daughter and smiled fondly. "Hello to you too, sunshine."

Hansel awkwardly approached the father and daughter, his eyes averting to everywhere but them, "Um, nice to see you again, your highness," his voice was quieter than his usual obnoxious sneers as he rubbed his head.

"Oh, Hansel!" Brandon said in surprise as Brittany let him go, raising a brow at the blond prince at his unusually proper voice. "How many times have I told you? It's Uncle Brandon to you, buddy." He smiled at the prince, putting a hand on Hans' shoulder. 'Uncle' Brandon was a weird one, Hansel thought ever since he was a child, almost every King and Queen demanded respect to everyone around them, even his own father demanded he refer to him as 'your highness' in public. But Uncle Brandon different, being more down-to-earth and casual. "You probably already know this but your old man and I were really close back then-" Brittany and Hansel gave one another the 'look', the kind of look they and everyone else gave when they know their parents are telling a story and it's going to take a while. That kind of look.

"Hey, dad." Fortunately, Stiles snapped out of his deep thoughts and greeted his father, cutting Brandon's words short, not that the man minded.

"Stiles," Brandon said fondly as he held up his fist for his son to fist bump, to which he did, though it's less enthusiastic than usual. "How have you been, buddy? School treating you okay?"

Stiles shrugged, looking down. "The funeral, it's going to be held tomorrow, right?"

Brandon's smile dropped into a slight frown. He then remembered the reason why his kids came here in the first place. "Yes," He said, "I know that face you're making, son, what do you want to know?"

The prince was taken aback at his father's words, was he that predictable? "Um, I want to know who murdered the Earl and his family."

"Yeah, dad," Brittan said, deciding to join the conversation. "It wasn't mentioned as to who did it."

"Well, you see, no one knows. The killer, or killers, haven't been caught yet." Brandon scratched his head, "We've hired the best detectives and investigators but so far we've got nothing." He said, turning to Stiles, "Unless you have an idea as to who the culprit is?" He asked, his brow raised.

The answer wasn't immediate. "Where was Philip when it happened?"

"What?" Brittany nearly shrieked, "Are you saying Philip did it?"

Brandon blinked, "He said he was asleep while it happened."

"That doesn't make sense. The Earl's family and the staff were murdered. You mean to say that everyone in the house was murdered, regardless of where they were, and Philip just so happened to be spared?" Stiles frowned. "I'm not saying he's the culprit but he may have been involved."

Everyone in the room blinked at Stiles words. Did the naive pretty boy just say that? "I've thought that too but everyone seemed convinced at his alibi for some reason."

"That's...strange," was all Hansel could say.

Before anyone could add any more to the conversation, urgent footsteps sounded behind the door, before a guard suddenly burst through. "Sire!" He exclaimed, trying to catch his breath as sweat dripped from his face.

Brandon turned away from the teenagers and walked towards the guard, his face suddenly turning serious. "What is it, Marcus?"

"One of your servants were knocked out cold in one of the hallways."

A/N: Finally finished it! Did you know this was started actually immediately after the previous chapter was published but I never got around to really finish it.

Anyway, obligatory trivia!

The fact that Brittany and Stiles have the first two letters of their names similar to that of their parents are a coincidence, at least on my part, no idea what went in Stella and Brandon's minds when they named them. Anyway, I was binge watching The Most Popular Girls in School (essentially the barbie version of Mean Girls) at the time and there was this character named Brittnay Matthews and I decided why not. While Stiles was not named after anyone in particular (maybe inspired by Stiles in Teen Wolf but I never really watched it) and named him that because I'd imagine Stella wanting her kid to have 'Style'.

Anyway, till next time!