If Mathias was to choose his favourite place in the palace it would be the maze garden. So unsurprisingly that is where he went. As he stepped into the maze garden (one of the many gardens they own) he noticed a figure slowly disappear though the hedges that built the maze. He decided to follow the figure with caution. But as he turned around a corner to take a quick glimpse at the person, he was met with four pathways. He cursed under his breath, knowing that he lost the person. Remembering the day when he got lost in the maze as a child, he then opted to leave:

"You may open your eyes now."

Slowly and carefully, Mathias opened his eyes. For his seventh birthday he had asked for a maze garden, he had told his parents that many of his friends owned one in their palace and that if he had a maze garden one day he could invite them to play. And now his dream finally came true. Big blue eyes stared in awe. Fresh, well-cut green hedges faced in all sorts of direction that stood tall in front of Mathias, and surrounding it were a diverse array of plants, from the common 'Yellow Azalea' to his favourite flowers: the 'Marguerite Daisy' and 'Red Clover'. He requested that one of his favourite flowers could be the national flower of Denmark, but in the end his father never chose a flower emblem. Nevertheless, Mathias was grateful for the garden. He hoped that one day he could bring someone special to the maze.

"Five... four..."

The sound of rushed footsteps raced around the garden.

"... three... two..."

Suddenly the footsteps stopped and were replaced by light murmuring and giggling.

"... one."

A loud 'shh' was made. Then, silence came.

Mathias swallowed, parting his hands from his face. All he had to do now is find them. The young Dane wandered around the maze garden, admiring the captivating scenery and contemplating on how perfectly sculptured each hedge was. Knowing his father as a man who liked accuracy and precision in his work, Mathias would not be surprised if his family owned the most beautiful maze garden in the country, especially when his father hired Berwald Oxenstierna - a professional maze maker (or whatever they are called). Mathias giggled and smirked as he jumped over small hedges, turned around many corners and ran through tall hedges. After running into a particular hedge, a light thud was made and Mathias found himself staring into the sky with leaves showering on him from above like green snowflakes. He laid there, hands rested on his rising chest and a content look plastered on his youthful face. The longer he watched the leaves fall the heavier his eyelids felt. Then he fell into a long nap.

Acknowledging the fact that he was lost, he now regretted ever entering the maze again. He turned around to leave and followed what he thought was the way out, though after five minutes of walking he met a dead end. Exhausted and frustrated, Mathias dropped to his knees, burying his face in his sweaty palms. If only the child that saved him back then was here to save him again. Mathias never forgot the child that came back to find him...

"Are you lost?"

Mathias gazed up to the sound of the voice, his eyes swollen from panic, fear and desperation. His vision was blurry from the pool of tears that refused to fall from his eyes, and so he had no idea who stood in front of him. A hand stretched down from the figure and, without hesitating, Mathias grabbed onto the stranger's hand and pulled himself up with all his might. From the dark sky and the chilly yet crisp evening air, Mathias knew he was stuck in the maze for a long time. He turned to the kid that saved him. Even though it was too dark to make out the features of their face, the glint of the cross-shaped hair pin was enough for Mathias to remember who it was, so that one day he could thank them.

"Are you lost?"

Mathias gazed up to the sound of the voice. A girl with long, silver-white hair that curled inward to her face stood in front of him. She wore a deep brown dress and white half-laced boots, her hands were also covered with a pair of white, silk gloves.

"No, I was... playing..."

"What were you playing?"

"Ah... Um... Hide and seek," he lied, eyes darting side to side.

"With who?" The girl looked down at the prince with an unimpressed look, one that possibly conveyed thoughts such as 'why would he play such an childish game at his age'.

"Actually, I was playing... with," Mathias scanned his surroundings carefully, searching for an excuse. But when he saw no signs for a legitimate reason as to say why he was stuck in the middle of a maze, his face flushed from worry and down on his knees, there was no choice but to make it up. So, the Danish prince rose to his feet and coolly started to brush off the dirt from his suit.

"Princess Erika," he finally answered. "I was playing with Princess Erika," he then went on more confidently, and at the same time secretly hoping the girl didn't know who she was.

The girl blinked a few times, her emotionless eyes switching to perplexed purple ones, and then the corner of her lips formed a (very) small smile. "I see. I will be leaving then." The girl turned around and was about to walk away but was stopped when the prince called out a faint 'Wait!'. She turned around and her hair spun swiftly with her.

She is immensely beautiful, he thought.

"Yes?" came the sweet response.

Mathias ran towards the mysterious girl, his heart thumping as he spoke. "Please, let me walk with you. I will never forgive myself if you ended up getting lost."

The girl shared no reply but simply led the way, with the prince trailing behind her like a lost dog.

The ringing of bells indicated that the butler was about to enter the room. An old man stood by the large door, holding a wooden tray with a pot of black tea and two tea cups made of the finest pieces of china and a selection of Danish pastries. "Tea, sir," the man said as he placed the tray on the glass coffee table. After pouring the tea, the man left.

The King of Iceland shifted to a more comfortable position in his seat, lifted the tea cup and took a light sip, and then setting the cup on the table again. "I must ask. How is the boy?"

The Danish king held the man's gaze. The question was ambiguous, but he understood what the man meant. "Do you mean my son?" he questioned in response.

The other's expression fell. "No Felix, I mean, my son."

"Ah, you mean 'Mr. Bondevik'?" Felix took a sip of his tea. "Well, why don't you meet him." He turned around and was about to reach for the bell when the man sat opposite from him stopped him.

"No! Felix, you know I must not see him!"

The Danish king retracted his hand and was now facing the other. "Do you remember what you did to the boy?" Felix's tone was sharp and his eyes were fixed directly upon the man's worry-filled ones.

"I was in a state of desperation!" The Icelandic King retorted, pointing at the other man. "You accepted the deal as much as I did."

"But you had no right to do what you did. He's not even your legitimate son." Felix argued.

"Of course he isn't my legitimate son! If he was then there would be no reason for me to commit such an action!"

A loud bang, followed by a high pitched crack and the dripping of liquid silenced the two kings. Their eyes left each others' and landed on the broken china laying dead on the floor, whilst hot tea overflowed from the coffee table, staining the floors a bright reddish gold.

After hearing what seemed to be a hand slamming the table and a tea cup shattering, the old butler rushed in the room to immediately clean up the mess.

"Remember, this day is a cause for celebration. Let us not ruin this momentous occasion by attending to past complications."

Felix cleared his throat and stood up. "Quite right. I also believe it is time we should formally greet our guests and officially announce the engagement."

Already forgetting their arguement, the Icelandic King nodded in agreement and followed his host into the large hall.