~Chapter One~

Princess Anna

"Anna!" shouted my mom from downstairs. Her voice was muffled, but it still managed to reach my ears through my closed door. Yeah, I'd shut myself up in my room again. Maybe I should call it my sanctuary?

"Anna!" my mother yelled again, evident annoyance in her voice, "Can you hear me up there?" I'd adopted the attic as my own, clearing it out and using it as my hiding place from the world. It was a bit chillier than the rest of the house, but that wasn't anything a sweater and warm socks couldn't fix. Besides, I didn't mind the cold.

"I can hear you!" I shouted and shut my eyes. I could feel a headache coming on. Unfortunately for me, I got those a lot.

"Come downstairs!" my mom yelled up the stairs that led to the attic, "Now!" I could hear the anger in her voice even though she tried to hide it. She wasn't a particularly…irritable person. When she was angry, it was usually for a good reason. I forced myself upright and tapped the play button on my iPod, shoving it in my back pocket. I slid my headphones over my head. As I left my room I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. Pale skin, overly sized eyes, and black hair forced me to look away. Maybe if I had light hair I wouldn't look so…strange. I longed to look normal.

My mom always told me that I was beautiful, but wasn't that just a parent's job? I couldn't trust her word. I didn't have any friends who would back me up, tell me that I wasn't as ugly as I saw myself. I didn't like people at all, actually. I pulled my annoying hair into a messy bun and stabbed a pencil through it to pin it in place. I cranked the volume on my music and, sock-footed, eased down the creaky stairs. Each board protested against my steps until I quietly landed in the hallway.

I sighed and made my way to the kitchen. I knew that was where my mom probably was. Whenever she was worried or stressed out about anything, she'd start to cook fervently. To be honest, I found it a bit strange. Who was I to judge, though? I was pretty much the embodiment, no, the epitome of strange.

When I stepped into the room my mom looked up from—I guessed correctly—her cooking. I stared at her blankly. She tilted her head to the side, a habit that I recognized to mean that she was anxious. She shifted to her other foot. She wasn't a particularly tall woman. She had an unusual amount of wrinkles on her face, considering her age; I would never say that to her, though. She would probably cry.

Wrinkles were to be expected, though. She'd had it rough ever since my dad had died…we both had. She brushed her greyish hair behind her ear and motioned for me to remove my headphones. I didn't argue. I never argued with my mom. To me, she was a delicate creature. Like glass. If you dropped her, hurt her in any way, she would shatter. Not into large pieces, either. She would break into tiny pieces, so that, no matter how much glue you used, you wouldn't be able to piece her back together. I didn't want that…so I didn't argue.

"Your teacher told me…that you got sent to the principle's today," my mom said nervously. She clasped her hands together as I flicked my annoying hair out of my vision.

"I did," I said calmly. Lying wasn't really my thing.

"Wh-Why?" my mom asked, flustered.

I closed my eyes for a moment and then looked at her directly, "It was stupid."

She waited. I sat down at the counter. "There's a girl called Johanna in my class. She accused me of being in love with her boyfriend, Skylar. I'm not."

"You didn't…" my mom started.

"No, I didn't." She breathed a sigh of relief, tension escaping her shoulders. "But she didn't back down. She shoved me into a locker. A teacher saw. I was sent to the principle's. She wasn't."

"I trust you," she said and then turned away, "You may go."

"I have to get to work. I'll be back late. Don't wait up." With that I fled the house. Something about that place brought me down. I knew my mother loved me, but it had never been the same after the accident. I paused in the doorway. A faded picture hung on the wall. It was me, when I as younger. I was smiling wide, sitting with none other than my beloved father. He looked so happy, like being with me was the best thing in the world. I clearly reciprocated those feelings. I'd been younger, but I still remember him. His warmth. The way he would laugh at every little thing I did. How he'd rock me to sleep when I had nightmares.

That was also something that happened a lot. I mulled over my past as I mounted my bicycle. I suppose it was also my present, though. I got nightmares quite a lot. They were horrible, too. I'd always wake, fear causing tremors down my spine and cold sweat dripping down my forehead. Eventually, I'd snap back to reality, though. It was never real…

I'd always remember that the darkness wasn't an actuality; it was a figment of my imagination. That man wasn't always watching me with those cold, ever-vigilant eyes. The monster didn't really exist. I was safe where I was. What really terrified me, though—never mind the monster—was when my father showed up in my dreams. Those were the worst.

"Anna! Looking glum as always!" said a light voice. Strong arms wrapped around me and swung me around, "It's been too long!"

"By 'too long' do you mean since we got out of school a few hours ago?" I questioned.

Skylar looked down at me as if I'd slapped him. His greyish eyes were partially hidden behind his long, bleach-blond hair. His iridescent ear piercing shone under the light. "That's exactly what I meant," he said indignantly.

I scoffed and shrugged his arms off of me. I reached up and replaced the pencil through my hair for an actual tie. "Whatever," I mumbled.

"I think part of your charm is how depressing you are all the time," he said, propping himself up against the floury counter.

I grinned slyly at him, hiding one of my eyes behind my black hair, "I think part of your charm is…wait, you don't have any charm."

He reeled backwards and slammed his head against the 'any two toppings, 50% off' sign. He rubbed his head, "That hurts."

"Slamming appendages against any solid surface does tend to sting a bit," I said, turning and plucking an order from the rack. I skimmed it over and got started, readying dough as I had a million times before.

"I wasn't talking about my head," he said, "I meant my heart. Sometimes you can be cruel."

"You should say stuff like that," I said coolly, "People will misunderstand." I cast a quick glance his way so as to gauge his reaction. He looked slightly surprised.

"Who'd misunderstand?" he asked.

I sighed, "Your girlfriend, for one."

He groaned, "Jo doesn't really care about me. I'm a trophy to her. You know that." I couldn't blame her. Skylar was pretty…beautiful. I know guys don't like being called that, but it's the best word to describe him. He had long, blondish eyelashes that brushed his cheeks when he blinked. He had high cheekbones and a strong jawline. His wavy hair was platinum blonde, but when the sun hit it, you could see darker gold hidden throughout. He was tall and strong, also. I had to hand it to Johanna, she knew how to pick a trophy…not that I ever saw him that way.

"Well, she cared enough about her trophy to slam me into some lockers and get me sent to the principle's," I said quietly, flipping the already formed dough up in the air expertly.

Skylar launched himself off the table and grabbed my wrist. The dough smacked against the counter, sending a cloud of flower into the air. I coughed a bit and turned to look at Skylar. He looked angry. "What did she do?" he demanded.

I stared at him and tried to turn away. He wouldn't let me. "Ease off. It was nothing," I mumbled.

"No! If she did something to you, you shouldn't just stand by and do nothing about it. Hell, I shouldn't just stand by and do nothing about it!" he practically shouted. Our boss, Jed, peeked his head out of his office.

"Are you two fooling around again?" he asked. I shook my head and Skylar called back. "No, Sir. Sorry, Sir."

He backed of, but didn't stop staring at me. I set to work with the pizza again. I could feel his silver eyes on me. "An," he said quietly, "Tell me." I could hear the pleading in his voice and sighed.

"I already did. She shoved me into some lockers. That's all."

"Why?"

I hesitated, "She said that I liked you, except there were some less than admirable words thrown in there along the way." There was crippling silence…eventually I looked up, (mostly out of curiosity…what had shut him up?)

He wasn't looked at me. Actually, he was facing the other direction. When he next spoke, his voice was a bit hoarse, "And…"

"And, that's all," I said, returning to my work. I didn't want to be caught staring at his strong back or the way his floury t-shirt was stretched taught over his muscles.

He cleared his throat, "I'm off duty. I'll see you at school. Tell me if Johanna does anything like that again." With that he left the room. I was thankful for the solitude and silence, but was painfully aware of how empty the room felt. It was strange how torn I was between wanted him to return and wishing he wouldn't. My shift ended quicker than I wished it had; the boss practically kicked me out.

I sighed and pulled the tie out of my hair, letting it fall down of my shoulders. I used to keep it short, but going to the hairdresser got to be such a pain that I just decided to pull it up. The effect was generally the same: I didn't have to look at it either way. I hated my hair…a lot. It reminded me of my dad. I didn't want that.

"Anna," said a voice behind me. I leapt into the air and yelped like a little girl. I then managed to trip on my own ankle and tumble to the ground. I scraped my knee and winced. A soft chuckle accompanies the pain that ensued. I clutched my knee and picked little pieces of gravel out of the wound.

"That's just like you. You ok?" he said.

"What are you doing back here? I thought you left," I jibed. I wasn't about to dignify his question with any remote form of response.

Skylar fiddled with a pebble in the driveway, "I have something I have to tell you." I got to my feet and brushed off the dirt on my legs. I straightened myself.

"Ok, shoot," I said. I reached to my neck and then had a minor heart attack. "Shit," I cursed under my breath before Skylar could say anything. I fell back to the ground and frantically searched the floor.

"What are you doing?" he asked, kneeling beside me.

"My necklace broke," I said, frustrated.

"I'll help you look," he said and then proceeded to make good of his statement. "Anyway, what I wanted to tell you…"

"Right, you said there was something. And?"

"I…broke up with Johanna," he said almost silently. I froze.

"Why'd you do that?" I asked.

"I guess you could say that something opened my eyes…a realization of sorts," he said as his hand hovered over the pebbles. A glint of bright green caught my eye and he looked up, "This it?"

I couldn't help but grin out of relief and nod my head. I took the stone from him, though the chain was gone. It didn't matter. It'd been cheap anyways. "Thanks," I said as I closed my fingers around the emerald. I didn't know if it was real. Even if it was I wasn't about to sell it.

"That's important to you, huh?" Skylar asked. I looked up and realized he'd been staring at me. I wondered for how long.

"My dad gave it to me," I said almost immediately. My willingness to share the information with him surprised me. I looked at him shyly, but he just nodded in understanding. I wasn't sure if he really did understand, though. Did he know about my dad?

"As I was saying," he said, standing up to his full height. I stood a few seconds after him. I waited for him to continue, but he didn't. He stared at me.

"What?" I asked, crossing my arms over my chest. I was grateful for the black hoodie I'd been wearing. I was sufficiently covered. Otherwise, I might've thought that he'd been staring at me. That was stupid, though. Who would actually look at me? I wondered if there was actually a person out there who could care about me.

"Your…pocket. Is your phone on?" he asked. I raised a brow and looked down. My pocket was, indeed, glowing. I reached in a pulled out the most unlikely source of the light…and yet…

The stone—yes, the very same one Skylar had just recovered from the ground for me—was glowing. A brilliant green color emanated from the stone. "Uh," I said stupidly.

"Does it…do that often?" he asked. I couldn't stop staring.

"No," I breathed.

I felt warmth. A gentle breeze caressed my face, brushing my long hair over my nose. It tickled and I sneezed. I opened my eyes and set up. For some reason, I felt light. There wasn't anything weighing down on me. I didn't feel the constant headache I usually did.

"Princess Annabeth? You're awake," said a voice. I turned to my left and saw a man standing beside me. I ran my fingers over the tall grass where I lay and looked up at the cherry tree he was leaning against.

"Sorry…what?" I asked. I could have sworn he just called me a princess. I rubbed my eye.

"I was just thinking that we should be returning," he said, offering me his hand. I stared at it.

"Returning?" I asked.

"To the castle, of course," he said as if it were obvious. Castle? Princess? How did this guy know my name? I looked down and realized I was wearing an extravagant dress. I held my breath.

"Princess, are you alright? Perhaps the sleep hasn't completely left you," he said, kneeling beside me. He had…white hair. It just occurred to me that having white hair was strange. No, he wasn't old. He looked older than me, but definitely not old enough to have white hair.

"I'm…confused," I mumbled. I wanted to ask who he was, but figured that would be rude. I reached to my neck for comfort and breathed a sigh of relief when I realized my jewel still hung on its chain at my collarbone. The man helped me to my feet.

"I'll escort you back, Princess. You have a big day tomorrow; I don't blame you for being nervous," he said softly. Somehow his words comforted me, though I wasn't sure why.

"But I'm not nervous," I said softly, smoothing my dress down.

The man chuckled, "Of course you're not. You're the strongest person I know." He plucked a cherry petal from my head and tossed it aside, "I'm proud of you."

I stared at him, "Thank you." I wasn't really sure what to say. Expressing my thanks seemed like the best way to go. I couldn't help but wish that I had my headphones with me.

We walked through streets. When I was very young, I remember going to see old castle towns during a summer vacation. That's what this place reminded me of. Merchants lined the streets and beautiful flowers hung everywhere. Everyone seemed satisfied, going about his or her own business. When I walked past, though, people stared at me in wonder. A young man locked eyes with me and looked away immediately, a slight pinkish tint to his cheeks. That only helped to confuse me further.

"The Princess has returned," shouted the man beside me. He took my hand and escorted me up a flight of stairs. So this was what a castle looked like on the inside. I had to admit, it was beautiful. "You should get some sleep. I'll have a maid bring by some food in case you find your appetite later on in the evening," he said. He suddenly looked upset. He placed one hand on my head gently and looked down at me, "Don't worry, alright? Everything will be ok. It's all for the best."

I nodded, suddenly just wanting to be alone. He smiled solemnly and shut the door behind him. I turned and lay down on enormous, decorative bed beside me. The room was too big, also; it was drafty. I curled up into a tight ball, something I tended to do when I felt alone. And god, did I feel alone now. Confusion ran rampant in my mind. I was lost. I tried to remember what had happened.

I stood up and began pacing the room, clutching my necklace. That last thing I could remember was Skylar. He was looking at me like he desperately wanted to tell me something. Then…my necklace. I stared at it. Had it really glowed like that? Then, I'd woken up here. A stranger had called me Princess and brought me to a castle. I was in too much shock to even protest. Apparently, something was happening tomorrow. I didn't care. This was a dream, wasn't it? That was the only viable explanation. I stopped in the middle of the room, determined to believe that, and glanced to my left.

I stumbled backwards. There was a mirror on the other side of the wall. I froze, staring at my reflection. I took a few nervous steps forward, and surely enough the reflection followed my motions. I waved my hand to make sure it was really me in the mirror. The girl there waved her hand also. I gasped and touched the shiny surface. I was…not me. Long, flowing, dark hair fell down to my lower back. It curled delicately, shimmering in the light. My hair almost seemed to change color at different angles, almost like a raven's feather. Dark, mysterious eyes stared back at me. Long lashes nearly touched my perfectly trimmed eyebrows. A dainty nose and brilliant, full, red lips topped off my look. I was…stunning. Not to mention my full chest, dollish pail skin, and delicate figure. I blushed just looking at myself.

A knock on the door jarred me out of my stupor. "Annabeth, may I enter?"

I panicked for a moment and then calmed down, "You may." A man peeked out from behind the door. He had kindly eyes and a full, greying beard. He had wrinkles, but they were the sorts that one gets from smiling their whole life. I liked that. "How are you?" He smiled at me hopefully.

I couldn't help but return the smile as I strode to the balcony. I stepped outside and the man followed me. "I'm well," I replied, "Thank you."

The man suddenly embraced me and I stiffened, "I'm sorry that this had to happen. I'm sorry." When he pulled away, he had tears in his eyes. He placed a strong hand on my cheek.

"I'm really alright," I said quietly. Everyone's worry for me was starting to unnerve me. Was something really bad actually happening to me?

The man seemed to suddenly gain his composure, "I have to leave you. Sleep well, daughter." That caught me off guard. Daughter? I shrugged it off. This was a dream. I could be anyone's daughter so long as my subconscious desired it.

"I will." After a moment I added, "Father." It was certainly strange.

After he left, I rummaged through my drawers looking for something more comfortable. I eventually found a blue summer dress. It wasn't exactly my taste, but what can you do when you're in a dream world and have no other choice? I just slipped it on after spending quite a while attempted to remove the dress I was wearing. I searched for some reasonable shoes, but found none. I decided I would just go barefoot.

I peaked my head out of my room, making sure there were no guards or ladies in waiting anywhere in sight. Castles had those, didn't they? I tiptoed silently through the endless corridors and hallways. I relished at the softness of my hair as it caressed my bare skin.

"Miss, where are you off to?" asked a voice. I whirled around and stared. It was…a cat?

"I, eh…"

"You really shouldn't be here. Who are you?" the blue cat asked. Blue? I didn't care if this was a cat, shouldn't he know his own princess? This could work in my favor, though.

I knelt beside him, "What's your name?"

He hesitated, which I found curious, "My name is…Harold."

I giggled a bit and he blushed. Can cats blush? "Well, Harold, I need your help. You look like you know your way around this place. Could you point me to the door? I tend to get lost easily, and I would really love it if you could show me the way out."

He stared at me for a moment before he pointed, "That way."

I smiled, "Thank you."

"Just go straight," he said before turning away and running off down the hallway.

I straightened, "I've never met a blue, talking cat who didn't know his own name before." I chuckled to myself at the bizarreness of the statement. I turned and silently ran down the hallway that the cat had pointed to. Soon enough, I found that exit. Unfortunately, it was guarded. This was interesting. I mulled over ways to distract the guards so as to grant myself time to run by them and out into the awaiting freedom I so desired. I didn't know why, but this place was intimidating. I didn't want to stay in this castle any longer.

"So this is why you weren't nervous," said a voice. I froze and turned slowly. The guy with white hair stood over me, and he looked very, very cross.

"I don't know what you're talking about?" I said, more of a question than I statement. I knew he wouldn't buy it.

"Silas, is everything alright?" one of the guards called.

The man looked up and smiled, "It's nothing. Keep up the good work." He grabbed my arm gently and led me away from the guards, out of sight and hearing range.

"You were trying to escape, weren't you?" he hissed.

For some reason, tears sprung to my eyes, "I can't stand it here. I don't want to stay. I need fresh air. This place is suffocating me."

"You've never acted like this before," he said softly, "Why now?" He brushed some tears from my cheek and I didn't protest. His touch was welcome. I needed some comfort. I didn't remember being such a softy before all of this, though.

"Is it because you're to be married tomorrow?" Silas asked. I froze and looked up at him. Married. So that's why everyone had been looking at me with such pity.

"I know you're averse to it, but he's a good young man," Silas said, attempting to comfort me. It didn't work. "Who knows, maybe you'll find love with him."

"I don't want this!" I practically shouted.

"Don't raise your voice like that," Silas scolded. I quieted down and slumped against the wall, wrapping my arms tightly around myself.

"Anna," Silas said, "I've known you since you were born. I know you. As soon as I found out that you were to be married I was shocked. I knew you wouldn't like it. Being forced like that."

I looked up at him hopefully. It sort of scared me that this person knew me my whole life, whatever life I was living at the moment, and I'd only just met him earlier today. He put his hands on either one of my shoulders, "But may I remind you that you're a princess. It's your responsibility to do this. Even if you don't like it, you'll rule this country someday. Fiore needs you to be strong." I wasn't a princess. I didn't care about this place called Fiore. I didn't want any of this. I wanted to return to my old life. I wanted the comfort of making pizzas every day to earn what little money I managed to scrounge up. I wanted a familiar face in all of this.

"Return to your room," he said quietly, "Please." I shuffled away. Arguing wasn't something I had the energy for any longer. I was drained. As soon as my head hit that foreign, uncomfortable pillow on that overly sized bed in that drafty room, my exhaustion won out.

Don't forget to tell me what you thought! Thanks, guys! I love you so. T^T *sobs out of love*