I was woken before dark, when the net curtains and shutters were pulled back from my bedroom windows and my lanterns were lit. The stars were visible through the window as Jamila and Amina disappeared into the bathroom and I heard the sound of the bath taps come on. I groaned, burying my face in my pillow. It had to be before 6am for the sun to have not turned the sky a shade of orangey red yet. Jamila walked back into the bedroom, long, black braid swinging behind her.

'Good morning, Your Highness.' She said nervously. 'Amina is just preparing a bath for you.'

'Isn't it a little…early?'

'His Highness requests your presence at breakfast.' She said.

'Breakfast this… early?' I replied again from where I laid in the coloured silk sheets in the black pyjamas I had been left out; tiny black silk shorts and a matching crop vest top.

'His Highness leaves for Galentia City in two hours. He wanted to see you before he goes.' My puzzled expression must have been evident as Jamila continued, 'Galentia is five hours North of here on horseback. His Majesty, The King, has been dealing with some issues there and His Highness is going up there to support him in the hope that they will be back here for Christmas Day.'

Christmas Day. My mind drifted back to Aldheim. The snow, the Christmas trees, the fairylights and the presents under the tree that I'd already left for Zed, my family, our friends. It could have been the best Christmas ever. For once, I'd been able to afford a gift for Sally and Simon and we'd have eaten a proper, hearty meal and would have had a nice, warm fire to curl up in front of. I blinked and a tear rolled down my cheek. It was two days until Christmas and things were already looking very different from the Christmas I'd imagined it would be.

Amina walked into the bedroom, fiddling with the hem of her tunic. 'Your bath is ready, Your Highness.'

I glanced at my scarred maids and then at the stars beyond the water before reluctantly hauling myself out of bed and into the bathroom.

Breakfast was served in a courtyard somewhere deep within the palace. I knew I would never be able to retrace my steps as Jamila and Amina led the way with guards flanking me from behind. I scowled at the security who seemed to watch me and my maids with caution, as if they were guarding deadly murderers. My gold-pump-covered feet echoed around the high, arched hallways as we passed potted plants and fountains and doors to rooms I'd not yet visited. I was dressed similarly to how I'd been dressed the previous day; baggy red trousers with cuffed ankles sat on my hips and a cropped, off-the-shoulder matching top with embroidery and sequins across the bodice. Golden cuffs sat on my arms and bangles at my wrists and my braided hair was pinned back with a golden circlet with a ruby over my forehead.

'Good morning, darling.' Prince Arkane said from the cushions he lounged on in the courtyard we were to eat in. Once again, he wore an embroidered tunic and loose pants in a warm, orangey and gold shade and a golden crown sat upon his head. Even for breakfast. The table was filled with fruits and unfamiliar pastries as well as grains and cereals I did not recognise. A silver teapot laid in the centre of the table, sending out a herbal scent into the air as the smell of jasmine and other blossoms draped on the walls danced around me in the warm, morning breeze. The guards who had followed me took positions by pillars as Arkane signalled to the cushions opposite him, 'Sit.' He instructed.

Despite wanting to defy him, I was still tired from a night of nightmares and my empty stomach growled at me in protest. I sat myself on a cushion, keeping my back straight and my body wary.

'How did you sleep?' He asked as he swished around whatever was in his goblet.

'Fine.' I replied.

A woman in the black tunic and pants, that I was quickly becoming aware was the royal staff attire, appeared and poured me a cup of tea and then a cup of orange juice before I could refuse. The smell of the milkless tea wafted in the air again and I took a sip. It seemed to have cinnamon and some other spices in it and it tasted good. The corners of my mouth must have twitched because Arkane gave me a slow smile from across the table.

'To your liking?' He asked and, without waiting for a reply, he added, 'You should try the pastries.'

I took one of the pastries that my stomach was calling for and ate it without hesitation. The sweetness and spices exploded on my taste buds and I let out a sigh. How could food taste this good? Was there some trickery to it? I thought the warm, large meals I'd been consuming in Aldheim had been good but the spices and herbs that were used here… they were unlike anything I had tasted before. My stomach growled in agreement and I grabbed some fruits, some which looked unfamiliar, and tucked in.

'Our climate allows us to grow more exotic plants and we have a number of trading partnerships across the world,' Arkane said, 'Which allows us access to the best herbs and spices and recipes.'

I tried to keep my face blank as I washed down the food with some orange juice. At least one thing tasted the same as it did at home, like I had expected.

'I am going to be going away for the night,' He said, breaking the silence once more. 'I will be heading to Galentia on the other side of the desert to see your grandfather and we will both be returning on Christmas Day.' He took his cup of tea from the table and sipped as it as he watched me, trying to read my facial expression. 'I considered taking you with me but I think I would rather you were here preparing for the Christmas Day festivities.'

'Festivities?'

His eyebrows shot up in surprise that I had spoken. 'There is always a carnival on Christmas Day and usually we host a ball at the palace, but this year we will be celebrating the return of the lost princess to us.' He raised his cup in almost a toast before he took another sip. 'Our country will be very pleased to have their heir back with us.'

'And what if I choose not to be the heir?' I asked. 'I'm engaged to a prince of Scandia and I'm to become the Lady of Aldheim.'

'If you choose not to be heir then our whole country will suffer. Who will lead them? A Lord? A dictator? The monarchy will no doubt collapse. Would you like to be responsible for that?' He asked, 'The suffering of your people?' I flinched at the bitterness of his voice. 'I am not breaking your engagement to Prince Zed and if you wish, he may join you here. Despite what you may have heard, my princess, I am not a murderous bastard and everything I have done has been to protect my country.' He stood up, his face irritated and his blue eyes burning. 'You will be attending lessons and classes over the next two days so that you are prepared for your party on Monday.'

'I have already attended plenty of etiquette classes.' I reminded him. 'Classes which my mother taught.'

His eyes darkened at my mention of his soulfinder, 'Perhaps, but my country is very different to the one you were raised in and soon you will realise that.'

'A dance class?' An hour later, I was stood in a courtyard free of furniture but filled with a group of girls wearing similar attire to my own, only less sparkly and detailed and they were missing the circlet I wore atop my head. A small band sat in a circle with some instruments I'd never seen before and the girls danced to the music in a set routine, moving their waists and hips with more flexibility than I'd ever seen before. Even the hand movements were different as they danced around in a flash of colour.

'Dancing is an important part of our culture,' Jamila said from my side in her thick accent. 'Girls and boys learn to dance from a very young age. It is a large part of our festivals and celebrations.'

'I have two left feet.'

She glanced down at my feet as if not knowing the expression I had used and she frowned, 'If we cannot dance, we go to extra classes and we are pushed and pushed until we can.' She curtsied to me and left as the music stopped and the girls turned my way. In perfect unison the group, including the band and who I assumed was the dance teacher, curtsied and bowed at me and I blushed a deep crimson colour as all eyes were on me.

'Your Highness, welcome,' The dance teacher said, tucking a loose strand of silver back into the braided bun she wore.

And just like that, I spent the next three hours being barked at until I could finally dance a traditional Silvanian dance and a few additional ones.

'You have a visitor, Your Highness.' Amina said that afternoon. I bathed and dressed in an almost identical outfit to the one I'd worn that morning and I groaned at the message. I was barely recovering from the dance lesson as it was. I was not unfit, my training with Rowan had made sure of that, but my hips had not moved like that before and now my body was hating me for it. Amina stepped aside of the door and Azriel walked in. He lowered himself into a bow when he saw me and I folded my arms across my chest.

'Your Highness, I am sorry to interrupt your afternoon,' He said, 'But I thought perhaps I could give you a tour of the city.'

'I'm supposed to be going to a history lesson.' I murmured and he gave me a crooked smile.

'With Lord Valkan I assume? Well what better way to learn history than to see the history itself.' He tucked his hands into his pockets, arrogance and confidence practically oozing off of him. 'And I think your father would be quite pissed off if you were to ditch your lesson to go gallivanting around the city…'

'Consider it done.' I strode towards the door and he let out a chuckle as Jamila and Amina exchanged concerned looks.

'Still not forgiven your father yet, then?' Azriel asked as we walked along the corridor. Unlike that morning, no guards followed us. Instead, those who were scattered around the palace bowed their heads as we passed.

'For taking me away from my family? Of course not.' I narrowed my eyes and he smiled to himself. 'Why don't I get an entourage now but I had one for a dance lesson this morning?'

'Because my rank is quite high and my abilities… let's just say you are very safe.' He patted to the sword attached to his belt and I raised an eyebrow. 'You'll find out in time, Your Highness.'

'Do I get a sword?' I quizzed and this time his eyebrows rose.

'Are you planning on using it?' He tilted his head to the side.

'It makes me feel more secure.'

'You have no need for a sword where we're going,' he gave a small smile. 'And no need for that circlet either.' He removed it and passed it to a servant we passed as she curtsied to me. 'We're going to try to be inconspicuous. Word that you have returned has not left this palace yet.' He grabbed a scarf from a washing line we had passed and wrapped it around my neck, covering some of my attire but not much of it.

'Returned.' I scoffed. 'Funny choice of words.'

'Here was your father thinking you were some doe-eyed, quiet, delicate young woman.' He grinned. 'You want a sword and you're quite feisty.'

'Everyone underestimates me,' I replied and he raised an eyebrow.

'Oh, but I have not. You were on horseback with a sword and dagger strapped to you when we first met, remember?' He tucked his hands back into his pockets. 'You are going to be the first female monarch in Silvania in over one hundred years and one I have no doubt that will go down in history.'

We walked out of the entrance using a guarded side entrance and the guards didn't bat an eyelid to us as we walked down the steps and into the city. In front of me stood large square-shaped buildings in creams and ambers for as far as the eye could see. Azriel led me down a few side alleys, where laundry lines hung over us as we walked down the cobblestone steps. The city was busy, despite the hot, mid-afternoon sun, and we passed men, women and children dressed in tunics or in attire similar to my own as we walked the streets. We soon came across a huge square and I knew it had to be the centre of the city as a number of alleys spread off of it in different directions. In the centre was a large fountain and to the right was a large building with a golden domed roof.

'That's Silvania Church.' Azriel said to me. 'Your family have married there for many generations and you would have been blessed there when you were born.' He said. 'Come, let's go inside.' He held his arm out for me and I hesitated. 'Your Highness,' He said in a lowered voice, 'It is very busy and you are a young, unmarried woman which does not put you in a good position in this city.'

My stomach churned at the thought as I glanced up. Some men and women looked my way with curious expressions and I swallowed before taking his arm and letting him lead me inside. I let out a small gasp at the interior of the church as we reached the cool shade. The ceiling and walls were painted with beautiful patterns and the ceiling even had patches of what I was sure were real gold incorporated into the design. The large, arched windows were covered with stained glass, making the lighting appear like different colours and grand chandeliers hung from the ceiling. The wooden pews were decorated with multi-coloured cushions and there were enclosed areas to the side where some lanterns and candles were lit.

Azriel cleared his voice as a guard looked over at the two of us, 'The Royal family have been getting married here for hundreds of years.' He said. 'His Majesty being the most recent until the Princess Consort Alexandria passed away last year. She is now buried in the family tombs under the church.' The guard turned away from her and Azriel shot me a crooked smile. 'Would you like to visit the tombs?'

'Are they open to the public?'

'No, but they are open to a selected few,' He held up a key and led the way. I followed him down the staircase and to a wooden golden door. There was a message engraved into it in a language that I did not understand and I ran my fingers across the engraving. 'It only says tomb, I'm afraid.' He chuckled softly as he turned the key in the lock. 'It is in the ancient tongue we all are taught at school.'

'Why learn it if no one speaks it?' I asked.

'Some do,' He replied, 'Especially during religious ceremonies. I suppose it is to stop the language from becoming extinct.' He pushed the door and it groaned as he held it open for me. I walked inside the dark building as he lit the torches hung on the wall and I shuddered. My dead ancestors were buried here. It was a bizarre thought. It smelt cold and damp and I crossed my arms as I walked towards the most recent tomb. Princess Alexandria. I ran my fingers over the placard and looked at the sculpture. Long hair, a kind face, soft features and she was petite. Perhaps that was where my height had come from.

'What was she like?' I asked as Azriel moved to stand at my side.

'She cared a lot for her people. She was very different from His Majesty. She didn't believe in slaves or physical punishment for those who did wrong and she desperately wanted a change.'

'So why did no change happen?'

'She was only a consort,' He replied, 'Here, consorts do not have the same authority as the King or Queen in power. They are lower on the hierarchy.'

'Back home the King and Queen rule side-by-side.'

'They do.' He nodded. 'But Scandia is one of the few countries left that abides by that and how long will that last for? There is already so much inequality in your land with poor provinces where people are refused work because of their background.'

'And here is much better?' I argued. 'With servants covered in scars catering to the royal family?'

'I do not agree with how either country is run,' He said, his eyes darkening, 'And when Queen Alexandria died, many people lost hope. But now…' His eyes turned to look at me. 'Perhaps now that hope has returned.'

I turned crimson, 'I do not offer hope… I can't… Not when I need to get back to Scandia.'

'Then perhaps nothing here will ever change,' He said and he walked back towards the door. 'Come, we have more to see.'

Azriel led me to a market in an alley off of the square. Unlike the festive market in Aldheim, this one was packed with people and the air was filled with the smell of spices and good food, making my stomach growl. We passed a lantern stall with more shapes, sizes and colours of lanterns then you ever could imagine and then a fabric stall with patterned fabrics draped everywhere. There was rainbow-coloured pottery, shoes, woven rugs, lamps and even animals. I paused by the shoe stall and admired some gold silk pumps with embroidered stars in them and my heart ached as I thought of home.

'Are you hungry?' Azriel asked as my smile faltered. He didn't ask what was wrong and I was grateful for the subject change.

'Starving,' I replied and my stomach growled in agreement.

'I know just the place for dinner.'

We walked for another ten minutes across the cobblestones and upstairs until we reached a set of stairs on the outside of an amber building. I followed Azriel up until we were stood at a podium, where a waiter in a tunic was waiting for us under an archway covered with fairylights.

'For two, My Lord?' The waiter asked Azriel and he gave a curt nod. We followed him through a gazebo-style area with cloths draped across the ceiling. People lounged on cushions drinking wine and a drink I did not recognise as they inhaled from pipes. They laughed and looked happy as two women danced in the centre of the room in clothes that did not leave much to the imagination. I tensed but relaxed as we were led onto an outside roof terrace that nearly took my breath away; the terrace was small with small tables and cushions spread around them over-looking the most spectacular view of the city at sunset. Lanterns and lights were hung around, creating a dim light, and the food smelt delicious. The waiter led us to a table by a potted palm and I looked out across the rooftops at the city. On the top of the hillside stood the palace, lit up in all its glory for all to see.

I sat myself on one of the cushions as we were both poured a glass of wine and menus were placed in our hands. Azriel thanked the waiter and he left. 'You're very quiet.' He said to me as his purple eyes met mine across the table.

'It's all a lot to take in,' I replied and he gave a nod.

'It is,' He held up his wine glass and clinked it against mine before we both took a sip. The rich flavour of the wine danced in my mouth and throat as I swallowed it and it was surprisingly moreish. The waiter returned and glanced across at me.

'Have you chosen what you would like to eat, My Lady?' He asked. I almost smiled at the title that I was familiar with. The title that I wished was the only one I had.

'She will have the spiced chicken,' Azriel replied on my behalf and I raised my eyebrows at him but he grinned a cocky smile. 'I'll have the stew.'

'Right away, My Lord.' The waiter excused himself with a bow.

'Ordering for me now?' I said. 'Not very gentlemanly.'

'I never said I was a gentleman,' He replied. 'But you will love it.'

Unfortunately, he was right. It was one of the most delicious meals I had ever had; chicken seasoned with ginger and cumin served in a sauce with aubergines, chickpeas and dates with flatbread and something similar to but not quite rice on the side. I ate it quickly and I didn't even argue when ice cream was brought out for dessert and another bottle of wine was opened.

'So what's your story?' I asked and he glanced up from his food in surprise.

'My story?'

'You've spent the whole afternoon filling me in on the history of this country and its traditions but you've not told me how you fit into all of this.' I took a sip of my wine. 'Nor have you told me why you were in Aldheim.'

'I wasn't lying when I saw you on the mountain,' He said, 'I was there to celebrate the winter solstice… I wanted to see the meteor shower, which was why I did not turn down Prince Arkane's request when he asked me to accompany him to find you.'

'You weren't in the maze.'

He shook his head. 'I was at the ball until I had the signal to flee.'

'He just let you enjoy the party whilst he caught me?'

'No, Your Highness,' His eyes darkened and he looked down at his food. 'I was there to cause a distraction if the guards tried to intervene.'

'What does that mean?' I wrinkled my nose and he rolled up one of his sleeves to reveal black ink tattooed into his arm. He turned it and it rippled and then, before I could blink, I watched as the ink curled into the air and moved like smoke, darkness rippling off of him. I let out a gasp and I tensed and he clenched his fist as the ink returned to his arm.

'It's like poisonous fog.' He said, his eyes so dark they were almost black. 'It smothers anyone within a certain radius.'

'Oh my god,' I said as my head started to spin. 'You were going to be a human gas chamber.'

He blinked and his eyes returned to a shade of violet, 'My mother tried to keep my ability a secret but my father started to work for the King on his council and then, when I was ten years old, he found out what I could do and I was told I would join the council too one day. They started training me with the others and here I am, eight years later, working for the Royal Family and doing their dirty work.' He ran a hand through his hair. 'People fear me, Your Highness, and who could blame them?'

'Why not leave?' I asked.

'My mother is sick,' He replied, 'I cannot leave her. Not now.'

'I'm sorry.' He stared into his empty goblet and I reached for his hand and squeezed it. 'What do those pipes inside do?'

His eyes met mine again with a lopsided smile. 'They allow you to inhale herbs to relax and enjoy yourself.'

Relaxing in this place seemed like a great idea, especially if it meant I could sleep easier than I had the night before and with the wine swimming through my veins, it seemed like an excellent idea. 'Show me.'

He raised his eyebrows, 'I don't think Prince Arkane would be particularly pleased about that.'

'All the more reason to do it.'