Trapped in Satin

Prologue

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Spring, three years prior

A breezy morning in the late months of spring found the docile Captain Emerus Agriche entering the royal palace, per ritual, via the King's personal invitation. Only this time, followed by a haste pair of footsteps scurrying close behind him.

"Agriche," a booming voice greeted him, "you have finally graced us with your presence." The King, well in his late 30s, raised from his office throne which Emerus could only imagine was worth at least half his estate. Beside him, stood the Marshal of the Royal Army austerely.

"Good to see you in good health, Your Majesty." He replied with a reverent nod. "I have brought my daughter per your request. I trust she will be good company to his Young Highness, the Prince."

Just then, the roundest pair of timid eyes widened upon seeing the King himself, who looked upon the girl with a gentle gaze.

"This must be young Annelise. I have heard only the best of you."

"Thank you, Your Majesty. It is the greatest pleasure making your acquaintance." The young yet well-spoken child curtsied, a testament to the etiquette her mother had engrained in her for years on end.

"So young yet so intelligent. I am sure Elysander will have a lot to learn from her."

"Not at all, she has yet much to learn. Qualities like those of His Highness are incomparable." Emerus smiled in humility, which was swiftly reciprocated by a hearty laugh.

"Well then, let us get back to private affairs while the children get acquainted." The King said before ushering the maiden who was patiently waiting by the doorway. "Escort the child to the left-wing garden. Now, following on from our last assembly,"

The King's voice slowly dissipated as the young girl was gently forced away from the security of her father's hold and followed the maiden timidly through the grand halls.

Annelise was entranced by the palace's luxury, having been raised to appreciate the grandeur of the royal surroundings. Yet, at that tender age it did not quite occur to her, how big a privilege it was to wander within its walls.

Upon stepping into the blossomed garden, she found herself surrounded by a kaleidoscope of colours, each bloom meticulously tended to, and the soft scent of roses. She walked with measured steps, her mind a whirl of anticipation and apprehension. 

If only the maiden were not lingering just footsteps behind, she may have considered feigning a broken ankle or a melodramatic case of palace-induced hay fever to elude this dreadfully burdensome rendezvous. Now this is not to say she did not relish courtly affairs; quite the contrary, in fact. She longed to escape the confines of the small Agriche estate, and her mother's surveillance, eager to explore the wider world, mingle with new acquaintances, and even be swept gracefully across ballroom floors. Oh, how she loved dancing! But alas, her parents saw fit to limit her outdoor endeavours to academies and, apparently at present, the next best place where every move was scrutinised and every word measured. No practice runs, no gentle introductions...her first taste of freedom, was sour at best.

"I see the garden's charms have not escaped you." A voice laced with a hint of dry humour interrupted her thoughts.

She turned in surprise, only to be met with the softest features imaginable. The boy was dressed smartly in white embroidered linen matched with royal scarlet trousers — a sharp contrast to his cold, water-coloured eyes. So it was this — the young prince who, contrary to what she learned, was not half as intimidating. "You were much too immersed in those flowers to notice I had been standing here quite a while."