Cue Bad Guy.

Chapter 3

The gardens of the palace were bathed in the fading light of the afternoon, a silence had descended over the estate as soon as the Princess was declared missing. The normal clicking of shoes on the terrace were silenced, the loud gossiping of palace servants had been halted and the stables were empty. The shadows stretched out as men, woman and soldiers scoured the gardens, which they knew the Princess loved so much. If she was hiding in the palace she would be in the gardens.

The dying light of the day peeped through the large windows into the small drawing room two floors up. The curtains parted slightly, held open by a pale, slender hand. The hand was withdraw and brought to owners side.

A woman stood at the window surveying the scene below, watching for a sign that the Princess had been found. Her face was covered in shadows as darkness descended on the room once more. In the gloom you could make out her white blonde hair which stood out like a candle in the night. It rippled down her back in waves and shone against her dark skin. Her plain brown eyes looked strangely youthful, yet the fine lines on her face gave away her true age. Her fierce cheekbones angled upwards ending in her hair line and her chin stuck out in defiance as she looked down the bridge of her nose. Her black floor length gown clung to her shapely figure, many would agree this gown was more suitable for mourning rather than her step daughters ball.

Not pausing or flinching when there was a sharp wrap on the door, she quickly turned around and headed across the drawing room. The door opened slowly inwards to reveal a meek man whose face was dominated by a pair of thick wire rimmed glasses.

Resisting the urge to groan in frustration, the woman set a scowl on her face and demanded impatiently.

"Well, what news,"

The small man bent over in a failed attempt at a bow.

"Your highness, Q-Queen Laurel!"

The Queens eye glinted dangerously at the almost cowering man.

"If you please, messengers tell news, not stutter on simple greetings! Don't make me repeat myself! What is the news?"

The messenger pulled the small hat off his head and pushed his glasses up his mousy face. He looked everywhere but the queen, looking for an escape from her icy glare.

"There-There is no news to report your highness, the search of the grounds and palace have had no positive results! No leads, no news, no clues! Men have spread out into the neighboring streets and markets. B-But…"

"But what?" the queen said coolly, sending shivers down the messengers spine.

"B-But…" the messenger hesitated for an instant "The crowds, the crowds make searching hard, the guards aren't sure how much longer the Princesses disappearance will stay secret. They are afraid that the servant will talk. Y-Your highness!" He added hastily.

The queen's eyes narrowed before waving a hand towards the door, wordlessly dismissing him. The jumpy messenger hurriedly closed the door behind him leaving the queen in darkness once more.

Finally expelling a sigh of frustration the Queen shrieked an ear piercing cry and swiped her hand towards a vase sitting precariously on a table. The vase flew through the air and smashed against the far wall.

Grinning in satisfaction Laurel moved slowly back to her vantage point at the window. She starred absent mindedly at the pathway which was littered with the carriages of nobles.

Her lips drew back in a snare. How dare her ungrateful step daughter do this to her! Ever since the king had been struck down with his illness, Emma had grown more and more rebellious. She skipped her lessons, involved herself in the lives of servants and talked to them as though they were her equal. Laurel remembered the day when she decided she despised the girl.

The queen had been discussing the upcoming ball with her friends, only one week after she had married the King. Laurel laughed at the right moments smiled at the right people and charmed the right delegates. She was every king's dream. She was beautiful, smart and could talk men out of wars and into alliances. Suddenly in the middle of her conversation a giggle erupted from the corner of the room. The room fell instantly quiet as Laurel gestured for a nearby servant to investigate. Soon after, the servant came back with a scraggy you girl in her arms. The girl smelt like horses and her long brown hair was covered in a dusting of dirt and leaves.

The girl looked up defiantly as the woman began to argue:

"It's a servant!"

"Oh, it's filthy!"

"Queen Laurel, how could you let this scum into our presence?"

Laurel's icy stare silenced them all as her gaze returned to the smiling young girl.

The girl had a rebellious glint in her eyes as she met the Queens eyes.

"Why, Hello Mother."

Laurel had never heard from any of those women again. Even now, six years on, Laurel still felt the angry burn in her stomach. In her marriage she had inherited an insolent, willful child whom in her child hood played with servants! Laurel shook her head in distain.

Her attention was drawn down the court yard by a loud shout.

She starred as a man was pulled along, his legs kicking trying to bite the arms holding him down. He was escorted by a platoon of soldiers who lead him into the palace and out of Laurels sight, but not before Laurel glimpsed his arms.

They were covered in a mass of exotic tattoos.

Her eyes widened as she turned around swiftly and glided across the room her face tense. She grabbed the door handle and pulled the doors open.

She grabbed her dress and pulled it out of the way of her feet. The halls of the palace were empty as she all but ran down the hallways, weaving in and out of path and down stairs. Doorways, empty rooms and paintings flashed past her as she gripped her skirts even tighter.

All she could see were the foreign tattoos in her head, taunting her, enraging her.

Why had that fool gotten himself caught?

She reached the palace floor and ran down the corridors. She reached a large door way with stairs leading down into the depths of the palace dungeons. She descended the steps, fire light licked the stone walls.

She heard shouts and screams from the dungeons below and her lips curled into a cruel smile. She always loved it down here, not that she could, or ever would admit it to anyone. The air was thick with the smell of despair and decay.

Laurel took a deep breathe as she reached the bottom. The grey stone walls were covered in a thin layer of moss and the damp floor was cold through her thin shoes. Prison cells surrounded each wall, heavy metal doors lined the walls with small gaps, enough to ensure the prisoner would not die from lack of air.

Soldiers looked up in surprise at her. Each had a questioning look in their eyes as they all bowed deeply. She lifted her chin higher and stalked her way across the hall.

A the end of the room there was a small alcove which contained a desk from which the legal documentation for the dungeons took place. A muscular young man, who went by the name of Took, sat in a chair looking rather bored scraping the dirt from under his names with a nasty looking knife. His legs crossed up on the desk staring at a spot on the wall.

Took spied the Queen and looked unaffected, he was used to her midnight visits.

"Took," Laurel drawled "I need to speak to a prisoner, your guards are probably interrogating him but I need you to have him set in a room alone. No one else is to be present. Is that clear?"

Took raised an eyebrow but nodded slowly. His eyes never leaving Laurels he shouted "Grab the bald prisoner, the one we just brought in. Have him place in cell six,"

Two guards behind him nodded and yet looked confused. After a few moments the guards dragged a wounded figure from one cell into another further down.

Laurel refused to look in his direction as she stared at a stop on the ceiling, looking as regal and commanding as one could in a prison. The guards knew better than to question her. The queen's temper was legendary. Servants who so much as looked at her the wrong way were never heard of again. Gossip spread of her temper, ruining vases, ripping up books and pulling down curtains in her fury. No one dared say anything to anyone who held any power. The vases were cleaned up discretely and the curtains were replaced within the hour.

"Your highness," Took's loud voice boomed startling everyone out of their own thoughts "Three doors on your left, you will be left alone as requested,"

The guards watched in fascination, Took had not bothered to even stand in the queen's presence, let alone bow. Yet the most surprising thing of all was that the queen didn't seem to mind. In fact she was careful to look everywhere but at the strapping young man who had, in the presence of the queen, had become fascinated with cleaning his nails.

The queen glided down the corridor passing by the guards, like she was taking an afternoon stroll, rather than walking in the dungeons.

She reached the door and stepped through shutting it gently behind her, leaving the guards starring at the solid metal door bewildered.

"Well you heard the lady," Took grumbled from his corner "Clear the area!"

The room was dark and muggy. The only light came from a fire which hung suspended from the ceiling. The man sat on the floor, his legs folded underneath him his head drooped.


Laurel turned around and stared at the disheveled form with a look of pure hatred. She strode across the room as the man lifted his head up to stare at her with helpless eyes. Laurel stopped right in front of him before bringing her hand back and hit him across the face with such force his weak body sprawled across the floor. She stared blankly as she held her arm up in the air, the sound of her strike resounded through the room.

"How dare you get caught!" she said her voice shaking.

Walking over to the pathetic figure she lifted him up by his collar.

She starred at his face which was caked with blood and resisted the urge to emit a rather unlady like snarl. Her hand shook as she faced his. She felt an urge to hit this man again. Yet she willed herself not to. Not until she had gotten the full story.

"I told you to follow her Jon," she hissed "I instructed you clearly, perhaps you would care to recite was my clear and simple instructions were?"

Jon's eyes left hers for an instant before he starred right back.

"I was to follow the Princess. Take her somewhere discrete. Dispose of her,"

"And what did you do?" she whispered.

"I-I-I didn't. I thought I could make a profit! She would die at the end and I would make a handsome profit from gullible gamblers! She was to walk a rope, it was inevitable that she wouldn't survive. But-But she was caught."

He turned away for an instant before continuing his eyes planted firmly on the floor.

"A young man, he ran forwards and caught her."

The Queen emitted a high pitched shriek as she rounded on him once more.

"You mean to tell me that she is still alive?"

Jon nodded.

The queen lurched forwards as she swung her leg, striking him in the side of his body. He cringed and curled his body into a ball.

"When I hired you, I was assured that you were the best! Now I have a Princess who is running around the streets, she's a loose cannon. We have no clue where she's gone! This is a disaster"

Turning around the queen ran her hands through her long hair.

"I won't have to rot in the cell. You will be released. I will not hunt you. I will not press charges. Let me warn you. If I ever hear so much as a word about you ever again, I will have your head!"

With that Laurel turned on her heels and stormed out of the cell.

The only thoughts on her mind were of the Princess. Lost in the city. Perhaps she would stay lost. Perhaps Laurels problems would be solved.

Perhaps wasn't good enough.

She would be found.

And when she was, she would be dealt with.

A/N: Thanks to Tiger Lily21 and julissa.' for your wonderful reviews. Thats about it really.