The Prince and the Count's Daughter

Chapter 2 - The Prince in the Abandoned Wing

Cyrus

I wandered through the abandoned wing, through dusty room after dusty room. It wasn't that interesting but no one would find me here, no one would see what I'd done to my hair. I remember being sure that they would be furious with me. I wandered into the last part of the wing, up a spiral staircase into a wide hallway filled with grand paintings. I was drawn towards an ornate wooden door.

I pushed it open to see a man looking back at me with as much shock as I had on my face. He was slender, with beautiful, long black hair, which had a small piece that was braided, defined cheekbones and jawline and striking grey eyes. At seven years old I thought he looked like a fairy.

Then I realised I recognized him. There were paintings of him all over the castle, he was The Prince!

The Prince was supposedly the last royalty to have been in charge of the Castle before he left suddenly to defend the Kingdom. Being in charge he should have been a King but for some reason he insisted on not taking the title. When he mysteriously didn't come back, having no children or siblings, the Count took over ruling the Castle. It's been a long line of Counts, most recently my Dad, who have ruled ever since.

"Oh I'm sorry, I didn't think anyone lived up here," I said sheepishly before attempting to back out.

"It's nice to meet you, I'm Cyrus," he said enthusiastically. "Come in, I have chocolate that needs to be shared." His voice was deep and musical.

I nervously entered the room and sat in the armchair next to him. He passed me a bar of chocolate and started to eat some himself. "I like your hair," he suddenly said.

Oh no! I had forgotten I didn't want anyone to see me."Please don't tell anyone!" I pleaded with him, expecting he would lead me back to the main castle to announce what I had done but he just chuckled and took a sip from the ornate china cup that had been delicately sat on a saucer.

I began to look around and realised that this room was strange indeed. There were gemstones scattered around carelessly and a huge four poster bed sat in the centre, with wine red silk or maybe satin sheets and velvet curtains in a similar shade. Above the bed hung a huge ruby with light streaming out of it. At the time I thought it was glowing with magic but I realise now that I could have misremembered that, magic had just been banned of course. I looked back at my host and was embarrassed to realise he had watched me take in the room.

"Do you like it?" he asked honestly. "This has been my bedroom since I was your age. I don't often get a chance to come back here but I always miss it." He seemed to be staring into space, as though remembering something.

"It's very pretty! Red is my favourite colour." I announced. He smiled at me in return then seemed to realise something.

"What are you doing in this end of the castle? I thought no one lived up here anymore." He enquired with an unusual expression.

"Oh, erm. I was hiding." I said sheepishly, hoping he wouldn't press me for a proper answer. His unreadable expression became a kind smile again so I relaxed.

"I see." He assured me, although I'm sure he didn't.

"Ava! I know you're up there, don't make me drag you out!" Suddenly we both turned to look at the door as the booming voice of my nanny, Mrs Parrish erupted in the hallway. I was hoping she wouldn't shout at me about my hair if she saw I was with the Prince but I turned to him and he looked scared.

"Don't worry, I'm sure she won't shout at you." I assured him.

He chuckled and returned "Be that as it may, I would rather she didn't know I was here."

"Oh, okay. I'll go out and meet her. I promise I won't tell her I saw anyone here!" I told him with sincerity and got up and strode towards the big wooden door. I turned back and called out "It was nice to meet you!" and ran to meet Mrs Parrish.

A week later I went back and found the room empty as though no one had ever been there. I have been back several times throughout the years and the room is always as I remember it but he is never there. I've come to accept the overactive imagination of a seven year old plus some emotional trauma had conjured him but he had seemed so real.