Adele stared at the prince, eyes wide, mouth agape. Horror crept through her body, making goose bumps rise on her flesh. She stepped back fearfully, putting the chair between herself and the man who'd imprisoned her, and then proposed to her.
"Are you out of your mind?" she demanded breathlessly, "Has that turnip head of your finally begun to rot? I'm only seventeen! You must be over twice my age! You're old enough to be my father!"
"People in high society do it all the time," the prince argued calmly, attempting to step around the chair and reach Adele. But she froze him in place beneath her ice glare, using her powers to bind him where he stood.
"Don't come near me!" She shouted, backing away. Once near the door, she released him of the spell and whirled around to make her escape. But the instant she reached out for the knob, a pair of guards blocked her way. She frantically searched the room with her eyes to realize that she had been barricaded in.
"Adele," the prince spoke sweetly, approaching her. She pressed herself into a corner behind a large vase, wanting to disappear. He continued speaking as he closed in; "Think of the security. You and your family can be safe, if you'll marry me. If not, it's only a matter of time before your mother is out walking and she meets the same troublesome people you did. And she has no magic to protect her..."
"No!" Adele childishly clapped her hands over her ears and squeezed her eyes shut, "Don't say things like that! I don't need you, my father-"
"What?" the prince demanded, and her hands could not cut off the sound of his voice, "Your father can protect all of you? And what would happen if he were to get hurt, Adele? Would he be able to protect everyone then? I can offer you everything! You'll never have to be afraid again, as long as you pledge to be mine!"
She felt one of his hands brush affectionately over her cheek. Tears brimmed in her eyes, and again she longed to disappear. As she pondered this wish, chanting it silently in her head, a tingling sensation began to creep up her leg. She dared open her eyes for a moment to see that her feet were fading into invisibility. She glanced down at her hands to discover that they had become transparent, and she could see the flowers that should have been blocked from view. She was disappearing.
The prince, however, observed this as well. He caught her wrist a moment before she faded away completely. She struggled against him, but he held tight despite her advantage of invisibility.
"Don't be so selfish, Adele!" he shouted at her, pulling her close, "This is for the good of the kingdom! If you agree to marry me, you will be royalty, and we can clean up this rotten world! If you choose to be selfish and refuse, then it will only spiral deeper into squalor and despair! Is that what you want, Adele? Is it?!"
You've been no help...
The words of the boy she had met in the streets that morning suddenly screamed through her mind. She allowed herself to become visible again as she recalled what he had said to her.
Our lives remain unchanged. You're still a spoiled, rich little brat, living in luxury while the rest of us live in squalor.
This was it. This was truly what she had to do, or people like that boy and his little brother would go on having to roam the streets, eventually succumbing to diseases or dying in accidents... This was what she had to do to help all those who were doomed to this fate. To ensure that her own family was never hurt. Images of her mother being harassed by ruffians, Markl wandering the streets, her father lying dead in some sewer... these visions were frighteningly vivid in her mind as she realized that it could happen.
She turned her eyes downward so the prince would not see the tears that brewed there. "Very well," she agreed reluctantly, "I'll marry you."
The prince smiled, and leaned over to press his lips to the corner of her mouth. She shuddered away from his touch with a small whimper. He smiled.
"You'll warm up to me eventually," he assured, before turning to one of the guards, "Have Arden escort the lady back to her room. I will release this news to the people tomorrow morning."
He left Adele there, standing stone-still beside the large vase of flowers. She clasped her hands to keep them from shaking, and her eyes stared blankly down at the floor. Her dreams of finding true love had been shattered before her very eyes. Tears began to pour from her eyes, slicing through the thick make-up that covered her face.
"My lady?"
She looked up to see Arden standing before her, sympathy gleaming in his eyes. She could tell that he had already heard the conversation. He offered his arm, and she took it, leaning into him for support.
They walked out of the dining room in silence, silent tears flowing freely down Adele's cheeks and falling to stain the bodice of her dress. Arden gripped her arm to keep her from falling down in the hallway in a hopeless heap.
"Are you going to be alright?" he asked gently, allowing Adele to stop and take a shaky breath.
"No," she replied softly, "No, I don't think so. I've just agreed to marry the man who nearly brought about my own father's death."
"I'm sure the people will thank you in the end," Arden soothed, rubbing her back comfortingly, "This is for the good of the kingdom, remember. You'll make a fine queen."
"I don't want to be queen!" Adele wailed despairingly, "I want to go home to my parents and my garden and my fire demon and my best friend, and not have to worry about looking proper or sitting up straight or being polite! I want to go home!"
She collapsed into hysterics, slumping to the floor and burying her face in her hands. Arden attempted to calm her as the walls grew dark, and strange shadows flitted across them. He gripped Adele's wrist in an attempt to pull her to her feet, only to find that green slime had begun to ooze from her flesh. He watched in horror as the sickly color seeped over her body, spreading over the floor. She had grown silent at this point, and gone completely limp as the greenish pool widened around her.
"Rosalie!" he called out, rushing down the hall, "Rosalie, I need help! Something's wrong with lady Adele!"
Arden's sister came at once, pulling her red hair back into a low ponytail. She quickly assessed the situation before commanding Arden to lift Adele and rush her to her bathroom. Rosalie ran on ahead, starting the water and filling to tub before Arden arrived. He was then made to leave the room, and summon a group of maids who would tackle scrubbing the floor.
Rosalie carefully and gently removed Adele's elaborate dress, crinoline, tight corset, white slip, and undergarments. Completely unfazed by the flawless example of female anatomy before her, she placed Adele into the warm bath water and started scrubbing.
After some time of this, Rosalie had successfully washed away every trace of the greenish ooze, leaving Adele pale and weary, with not even enough strength to cry another tear. A night dress was brought, and once dressed, Adele was carried back to her room and placed in bed.
She awoke again late in the night to find that her hair had been braided with care, and a tall glass of water had been left on the bed side table. Adele sat up, looking around to discover that she was in the room that had been given to her to use. She took a small sip of the water, before placing her bare feet onto the cold floor and getting up. She went over to the balcony to find that the doors had been locked. And when she approached her other door, she heard the soft voices of guards just outside.
They'd captured her.
Tears welled up in her blue eyes again as she went back over to her bed. Clutching a pillow tightly to her chest, she curled up into a small ball beneath the blankets, squeezing her eyes shut.
When she was a little girl, she used to be afraid of thunderstorms. Whenever thunder boomed across the skies over their castle, she'd spring from her bed and race into her parents room, sobbing in fear.
But once she crossed the threshold, her parents were instantly there. Sophie would bend over and take her into her arms and old her tightly, while affectionately stroking her hair. And little Adele would fall asleep within moments of curling up beside them, while Howl gently hummed a simple lullaby.
Now, seventeen-year-old Adele hummed that lullaby to herself, wanting nothing more than to curl up between her mother and father for comfort. Clutching her pillow tightly, she tried to forget about her engagement to the prince and pretend that she was back home.
She fell asleep with tears dried on her eyelashes, still humming the lullaby her father had used to often to soothe and calm her.
Alas, these memories were the only comfort she had.