A Curse so Twisted And Cruel.

Capture and Escape.

Why did the king invite me? I absent mindedly twirl a strand of hair around my finger, and my heart starts galloping in my chest.

If they don't already know who I am, they definitely will soon. It was dark the night the king.. ehm, rescued me, but he might recognise something too familiar in my long pink hair or amber eyes. Or the beauty spot on my eyebrow.

I bite my lip. I can't risk it. What I need to do is get out tonight, which is much easier said than done. I've thought of dressing as a maid and slipping out, but the castle maids don't ever leave, and I have no idea where to get a maid dress from.

I could maybe bribe the guards if I had anything to bribe them with, and I doubt stale bread would do the trick.

So basically, I have two options; 1. Find out where the maid dresses stay, nick one, and make an excuse to leave the castle.
2. Find a way to get enough money to bribe the guards, but risk getting sent to prison if they decide they rather tell the king about me.

Or, I could incorporate both those things. Option no. 3; Find a guard outfit, make an excuse, and leave the castle.
So far, 3 is looking the best.

Now all I have to do is find the guards changing rooms.

•{§∆§}•

The plan failed. Miserably. And it's not even my fault. It's Meredyl's.

She found me innocently snooping around the guard's training grounds, and, after screaming about how long it took to find me, dragged me to the castle, in the castle, through a hundred rooms, up a thousand stairs, and receiving a million stares along the way.

Sounds like a fun journey, right? (No. No it doesn't. You're a psycho if you think it does.)

Then, after the first session of physical abuse, she moved to the next. The brushing, scrubbing, pulling kind. The one where you're stripped of your clothes and modesty, dumped into a bathtub, and scrubbed until you are raw.

Then, I was shoved into a surprisingly loose corset, (Meredyl later informed me that it was only because of my wound. The other court women wear corsets so tight, they can't breathe, and sometimes pass out. I still can't believe that's normal.)
and a simple but elegant, cream coloured dress.

My hair was arranged into a pretty crown around my head, and a string of pearls was clasped around my neck.

(I really like the dress, but I honestly don't see why I had to be scrubbed raw to get here. Why couldn't I just bath and wear the dress? It's not like I'm filthy or something. Then again, to royalty, I probably am.)
The thought leaves a sour taste in my mouth, which I learned was best to keep shut while they assault you. Your protests and right to dress yourself don't exist.

"See?" Meredyl's voice invades my head. I flinch. What was I supposed to 'see'? Oh yes. Myself in the mirror. I take a deep breath and lift my head.

I exhale slowly. This is why I avoid mirrors. Though I do look a bit better, and they've added some colour to my cheeks, my cheekbones are still a bit too sharp, drawing slanted lines across my face. The bags under my eyes have lightened, but still there, and my eyes seem to be permanently puffy.

At the dress is pretty, and my hair looks okay. I quickly paint a smile on my face and hug Meredyl. "Thank you." I say, my voice small. Probably for lack of use. Or too much.

She gives me a warm smile, though I seen her hurt expression in the mirror when I didn't have the reaction she'd hoped for. I sigh, guilt nagging at me.

"One of the maids will come to show you down when it's time. Don't be late." She says, before gliding out the door.

There might still be hope. I go out of the room, onto the small balcony overlooking a dark tree, the broken swing hanging beneath it sways in the wind.

The memory of the stranger from last night flashes in my mind, and I instinctively blush. I guess they didn't need to add colour to my cheeks after all.

No one's ever held me like that. Since I've always been the mother of the group, I was usually the one giving the hugs. Never receiving. That's obviously why I still remember the way his scent engulfed me, along with his long arms. His heart, beating against my ear. The way his fingers stroked my hair.

Ugh. I'm sidetracking. I really have to leave before the banquet, or I'm toast. Not only might I be recognised, but social skills are not exactly one of my strengths.

I look again at the tree. It's quite big, and the branches spread far. Until the garden room the king built for his lover. I'm confident that I could climb it and get to the room, but how do I get past the guards? That's my main problem.

I bite my lip, thinking. A sudden inspiration hits me, and I grin. If I manage to get to the gates in this dress, maybe I can convince the guards that I'm a woman of the king's court, and they'll have to let me out. It's risky, but it might work.

Lifting the skirt of my dress, I pull myself onto the balustrade. Then I grab onto one of the branches and begin to climb.