Chapter 1: Of Age

Her breath falters as her fingers trace one of the golden embroideries on her emerald gown. Her auburn curls bound together in a knot, her head is hanging low as she tries to push away the memories. The prospects of this day.

They aren't here and she isn't in love.

She halts on her spot as one of the guards blows the trumpet. A signal that indicates the ball held in her honour has been opened. But it feels like anything but for her, no doubt another event, another opportunity for her uncle, King Hardman, to put some sort of power play in action.

Her eyes flash open, automatically scanning the dining hall in front of her, in search for a face she wouldn't even recognize. Her attention being broken as her uncle's hand falls around her arm, shaking her to get her attention.

"Dance," one word. It's all he says and she swallows giving in. To any other she'd protest, to any other she'd step up, but she's learnt by now that with her uncle it makes no difference. She decided all those years ago that it's best to keep quiet, to not draw attention to herself as long as he didn't make her do things she didn't want to do.

So far he hadn't.

"Harvey," Marcus's voice is low as his hand reaches for his brother's arm. Pulling him back as the older chap is nearly running down the dining hall. "Sssh," he murmurs back, his eyes questioning the expression on Marcus's face. "We're not even supposed to be here," the younger man whispers pulling his brother's sleeve before he let's go. "Precisely," Harvey scoffs, fixing his outfit again, "and that's why I'm not the heir of the Specter House tonight and neither are you. Tonight we're just two knights, no one of significance."

"Two knights wouldn't even get asked to this," Marcus's tone serious as he steps closer, annoyed by his brother's eye roll. "Fine, I'll be a blacksmith then," his signature smirk appearing on his face as he's about to walk away. "Harv –" Marcus pulls his brother back once more, "Harry," he shakes his head pretending to play along with this game Harvey was playing. "Why are we even here?"

Harvey lets out a sigh, thinking back to his father enlighten him once on the original path that was drawn out for him since his birth. "Because I want to see the woman I'm most definitely not going to wed," he hisses pulling his arm out of the younger man's grip and his head snaps back into the direction of the dining hall. His eyes instantly locking with a young redhead at the other end of the party.

Damn, his mouth drops a little.

She gulps, looking down. Breaking his gaze, she can still feel how the dark brown eyes are focussed on her. Wiggling her arm from her uncles grip, she rushes down the steps to the floor, the music starting to play as she disappears in between the crowd.

His feet start moving the second he notices she moves down. He pushes himself through the crowd. It's busy, but her vibrant manes would stand out just enough for him to find her. As if it was a signal, a sign of fate, the woman catching his eye the only redhead in the room.

Her head travels from the right back to her left, meeting the same dark brown eyes in the near distance now. This time she doesn't look away and neither does he, as she pushes herself past two viscounts in his direction. There are only a few steps left when her gaze redirects to an unknown hand on her arm.

"Earl Travis Tanner," a brown haired man bows as his hand slides down her arm, his fingers hooking around hers as his lips place a kiss on her hand. "May I have this dance?" she swallows, pressing her lips together unsure of what to do. This isn't conform the protocol.

Her eyes flicker up briefly, in the direction of those two brown eyes this time, but he's nowhere to be seen. Not anymore. "As you wish," she whispers, forging a smile as she looks at the man who's still holding her hand.

The prince's jaw clenches looking at the scene in front of him. Without a seconds thought he turns around on his heels. Finding someone of the opposite sex nearest to him, he quickly asks for her to join him as he walks back to the party that was forming the lines.

His eyes catching those of the redheads anew as he places the lady right next to the redhead. His lips curling up in his signature smirk, his eyebrows quickly raising as he brakes their gaze. His head held high he walks back to his position, right next to the man that stole her away from him. His eyes trailing off to the woman on the left, but he lets out a sigh at the way she looks down, making him focus on his own dance partner again.

Taking a step to the right he bows down, greeting the woman in front of him as all the other men did the same to their partners. The row of women moving to their left, gowns slightly lifted as each woman held on to her dress with both hands while nodding to the man opposite of her.

After recreating the movements in the reverse direction the prince made a right turn on his place, walking along the woman he picked out mere seconds ago as both of them angled their bodies. Their arms spread, but held to the ground, his gaze falling on the mysterious redhead in the emerald gown once more as he finishes the crossing of the dancefloor with a turn.

Donna's eyes travel to the ground, breaking his gaze another time. Stepping forward as her right hand catches the one belonging to earl Tanner as part of the dance. Letting go slightly before she was meant to she circles around one of her ladies-in-waiting that was dancing with the mysterious stranger, that seemed so familiar.

As pairs of two the four of them walk to the middle of the rows, forming a circle. His place is behind the rivalry man but across from her, his own lady facing the earl. Right hands extended towards each other, the small party circles around on the rhythm of the music. Swaying her head to the right, she tries to avoid his eyes but all she can focus on is how muscular his arms are.

He can still feel the warmth of her hand that floated above his as the men change places while moving back in line. His face directed to the entrance of the ballroom before he steps to his left. His eyes lock with Donna's, feeling a current run through his body when her right hand rests on his left.

Stepping backwards in sync, both only looking at the other as their feet dance the steps they both learned from the day they were taught to walk. "Donna," she's not sure why she tells him her name, but it feels like a rational thing to do. Her head tilts to the left as she sees his eyes widen for a second and the way he swallows doesn't go unnoticed either.

His left hand angles and her fingers slide against the palm of his hand. Their eyes locking again as he briefly squeezes her hand. He lets go of her then as turns around once more, his back towards hers, their arms stretched to the ground they stride around the other.

Heads crooked to the middle, his eyes roam her face and her lips curl up slightly. She notices how his eyes never leave her and she patiently waits for him to reveal his identity. She can feel the warmth of his breath on her cheek as his right hand seizes hers behind her back.

His lips are near her earlobe now and she glances down almost excepting the fact the gentleman next to her remains a mystery. "Donna," the way her name leaves his lips making her swallow, "Harry," he mumbles. She looks in his direction one more time before they part, turning around till her hand lands on that of earl Tanner again.

The hand of the lady-in-waiting he was originally dancing with lands on his, but it just doesn't feel the same. The words she whispers not registering as his eyes were still directed on the redhead dancing in front of him. The way a loose strand of hair swirled from left to right, the way she held her head high, the light from the candles casting a shadow on the delicate skin he had just observed from up close.

Harvey turns around, spinning on the dancefloor with his girl, but his heart skips a beat every time his eyes meet hers. He notices how the maiden walks away angry from his grip, but he doesn't care. His feet taking the steps he's supposed to, he walks around earl Tanner to his next position in the dance.

His lips curl up slightly when he finds himself facing her again. She looks down as both of them curtsy, but he can't help but look at her. Now that she doesn't notice it, his eyes quickly tracing the bodice of her dress, her slightly freckled chest, but mostly her lips. The way she smirks as if she knows something and he doesn't.

The men cross the floor one last time as the woman turn on their place. Even though their hands rest on the small of their own back, the way the earls arm pokes his doesn't go unnoticed and he merely nods. If the earl knew who he was or she was he'd never act this brave. The music comes to an end as he takes his place next to the redhead. He tries really hard to look in front of him, but she's right next to him. His head angling to the right once more, he just can't stop looking at her.

He notices how she doesn't give in, how her eyes are directed to the floor. But he also sees the way the skin around her eyes crinkle just a little, the way her lips are slightly tugged and he can't help but smirk as his gaze drops one last time. Taking in her beauty before his head tilts back, his eyes slowly following until he faces the lady-in-waiting again. The music fades away and he lets out a sigh.

It's now or never.

Both of them turning towards the other at the same time, she lets out a nervous laugh looking down over her left shoulder. He bites his lip, throwing all manner lessons he's had out of the window as he steps closer than would have been considered socially acceptable. His fingers scraping her dress as she looks back up to him.

Her cheek almost touches his, but he still doesn't speak. "So," she whispers, it's not really a ladies place to start a conversation, but she isn't just any lady. His breathing becomes heavier the longer he stays in her presence, this girl is something different. "I've told you my name," her eyes meeting his once again as he leans forward, "do I have to pretend I believe yours is Harry or are you going to enlighten me with the truth?"

He smirks, faking offence as he pulls his head back. Rocking back and forth on his feet he meets his brothers gaze in the distance signalling him to come back. "How can you do that?" he ignores him, his attention redirected to the redhead in front of him.

She doesn't answer his question, her shoulders raised she lets out a breath before she looks back at him. "I'm Donna, I know," she brushes it of as if it isn't a special talent, but to her it never was. She knew, she always knew.

"Everything?" he leans back in.

She smiles keeping her eyes locked with his, not willing to show him she didn't really know his name. Even if he seemed so familiar. "Everything," the whispered word being covered by the sound of a fast drumroll coming from the direction of the main table again.

Donna turns around, her eyes closing as she hears her uncle's voice echoing through the room. "I'm very pleased to announce..." She's bracing herself for whatever is to come, because she's learned by now that whenever something like this happens it's anything but good.

"The betrothal of my beloved niece, Princess Paulsen ...," a gasp escapes her lips, her chest tightening as her eyes flicker open again when she hears her own name. She looks to her left, but the spot next to her is empty.

He's gone.

".. to Lord Mitchell Wykeham."

A/N: OKay.. so if you've made it this far.: Thanks for reading and I'd love to know your thoughts :)