Regal |Fantasy Ryden AU| DISCONTINUED

-3-

The mysterious midnight girl's long white gown billowed behind her as she glided toward the ornate doors of the prince's bedroom.  She moved effortlessly and without a single noise, almost as if she was floating on air itself.  Even as she opened the doors and stepped inside the room, she remained completely and utterly silent, and Brendon found himself unable to contain his excitement.

The bright moonlight pooled onto the marble floor, the curtains gently blowing in the cool nighttime breeze.  The room was dim, none of the lanterns lit, but even the darkness couldn't conceal the midnight girl's blinding white gown as it glowed in the starlight.  She looked like the moon itself, plucked straight from the inky black sky and dropped into the prince's room without a single word.  Brendon couldn't even begin to imagine who she was or how she knew where he slept, but nothing was going to stop him from finding out.

"So I see you've already found my favorite room in the castle,"  he said with a cheeky smile, despite the fact that the midnight girl's slender back was facing him instead of her pretty face.  "Might I have the pleasure of knowing your name, madam?"

But the midnight girl didn't speak.  She merely turned her head to stare out toward his balcony, up at the starry sky above.  Her red lips were pursed, as if she was deep in thought, but whatever was on her mind, she didn't care to speak it.

"Madam?"  Brendon tried again, unable to hide his growing smile.  He'd found another shy one, another modest and mysterious girl whom he couldn't wait to see tangled up in his sheets.  "What name belongs to this beautiful face of yours?"

Slowly, the midnight girl turned her head, her stormy gray eyes scrutinizing him like an experiment.  Then she turned the rest of her willowy body until she faced him completely.  "Prince Brendon Urie,"  she mused, cocking her head to the side and letting her long raven hair fall over her shoulder.

Brendon smirked, smoothing down his blood red doublet and lifting his chin in pride.  "That's me,"  he agreed.  "Now, who are you?  You're taunting me with your enticing charm, madam.  I must know your name."

The midnight girl ignored his question, instead turning her head to stare out the balcony once again.  The faint blinking of kerosene lanterns in the village below the hill twinkled against the darkness of the night, their yellow glow competing with the celestial light of the stars above.  Whatever her peculiar interest in the outside was, Brendon didn't know, but he was becoming more and more frustrated that her attention wasn't on him.  Why had she led him upstairs to his own bedroom if she merely wanted to gaze at the stars?

Just as Brendon was about to speak again, the midnight girl suddenly snapped her attention back to him, her eyes wide and unblinking.  "The prince who's next in line for the king's crown,"  she murmured, not once breaking her piercing stare.  "Isn't that correct?"

"Yes, of course,"  Brendon answered, a hesitant tone lacing his voice.  He was unsure what the midnight girl wanted, but whatever it was, it was almost beginning to concern him.  She was acting strange.  "Now, will I ever get to know your name?"

The midnight girl blinked once, and then, she slowly began to creep forward, her long white gown billowing behind her.  "You may call me Eira,"  she cooed, gently taking his hand and holding it in her cold grasp.  "Am I pleasing to you, Your Royal Highness?"

Brendon was almost taken aback, yet he looked the midnight girl up and down, taking in her every detail.  Her silky raven hair, her fair, nearly alabaster skin, her red lips, her sultry stormy gray eyes, her petite body, her cold hands holding his tightly.  She was the epitome of beauty and elegance, and he found himself to be even more infatuated than he was mere moments ago.