Chapter 4

The king's daughter had only been a child during the war; she was now almost eighteen. Aurora could still recall the scenes in the plaza, of the queen mother looking out the palatial windows, and saying, "There are two men who will not give up on us."

The girl was now blossoming into a young woman. Aurora had golden hair, blue eyes. She had a beautiful throat, and soft white skin. Her adventurous spirit could not be diminished, and every night she looked out from her window to the unknown horizon.

One day she was sat playing with her fork; a number of esteemed guests were at the palace, men with titles, some news had them all on edge. Aurora listened, a man had been killed, several, apparently; they were of the noblesse.

She looked at the Earl of Xanthos, her cousin, because of the drink his face was always red, "It has been confirmed this morning, Talos is dead!" He exclaimed.

Bewilderment swept across the dinner party.

"I cannot believe it, I simply cannot." That was Donestre speaking, the Duke of Lares Vials; Aurora didn't like the way he often looked at her. "Why I saw him but a few weeks ago, are you quite certain of it?"

Baron Mora said, "There are some peculiar goings on of late." He was a pompous old fool, fat and ugly.

"Assassinations," interjected Viscount Murex. The viscount on the other hand was in his 30's, and rather delicious for a young woman. His many intrigues had everyone at court talking. He caught Aurora's eye and smiled; she blushed, hastily diverting her gaze.

"People murdered in their homes," the red faced Earl shook his head, "What are the police doing about it?"

"Remember Nero."

The royal family shuddered.

The handsome viscount said, "It was a massacre."

During the silence, Aurora looked at the faces around her; the red Earl, the sick Duke, the ugly Baron and handsome Viscount, she didn't care for any of them really, all they were bothered about was their many estates, their precious titles, and salacious mistresses. She didn't know much about the world, but the girl knew all about high society.

"Who or rather what is responsible?" Asked Viscount Murex.

Donestre was distracted; his eye had wandered to one of the servant girls. At length he returned his attention to the matter at hand, and replied, "Lemuria says a Grendel is." Then a young man interjected, "It is the Gods who are culpable! They smite us for game."

Aurora giggled.

"You and your damned Gods Lucius." He was only 13, "If you have nought better to say I beg of you to hold your tongue," Donestre snapped.

"It is the government, it is always they," the fat Baron Mora said nonchalantly. "What we are seeing is the handiwork of their secret agents."

"But why?" The dashing Viscount leaned forward, "One does not kill a man without a reason?"

The conversation continued, as it had begun, that is to say nowhere, Aurora grew disdainful: some noble men had disappeared, were kidnapped and killed, why was it such an ordeal?

At last she glanced at her father, who had been awfully reticent. Normally he had so much to say, too much almost, but now he looked pale.

"Lemuria has plagued my reign," the king spoke with a hoarse throat, the fires of war still burning brightly in his mind, "And now this," he threw down some pieces of parchment; it was a newspaper that reported the murders. Pensively he looked away, caressing the ring on his finger, his hair had grown white, his skin much aged, the man's azure eyes focused intently upon Aurora. He was a bad father, but a good king.

Aurora wondered why her father was staring at her. The seconds felt like minutes. Was it her manners? They were left wanting but that was perfectly normal, she was not a princess who behaved.

The queen mother interposed on behalf of the poor girl, "What is the matter your highness?"

The king sighed heavily; he knew what Aurora's reaction would be.

"I have...given Aurora's hand in marriage."

Aurora almost choked on her food.

"She will marry Prince Nyx of Lemuria."

She pushed her chair back, her mouth fell open.

"The marriage will unite our two kingdoms, securing peace and prosperity for generations to come. It has been decided."

Aurora clenched her petite hands into small fists, she was to be married, to a man she didn't know, absurd, she wouldn't do it, she simply would not.

"Prince Nyx is a fine young man, this union shall serve you well."

Aurora wept, "Shall serve you well papa, not me."

"You are a princess, you have a duty," he said dryly.

Aurora lamented, tears poured down her white cheeks. She looked to the queen for support, but her mother only diverted her eyes to the floor.

Looking back to her father she shouted, "I shan't do it papa," tears poured from her eyes, "I shan't do it!" She ran from the table, her little feet stomping up the stairs.

"Aurora is young, but will learn what it is to be queen," Baron Mora uttered.

It was then the sound of a door slamming came through the ceiling.

The king turned to face the queen, "I regret that you did not give me a son." Then he went back to his meal, chomping away at the large cuttings of meat.

While the dinner party continued, the princess scurried to her chambers. Her maids gathered to receive her; she dismissed all save one, Phoebe, her confidant through the years.

Phoebe said, "Whatever is the matter your highness?"

"Oh! My father wishes me to marry Prince Nyx." Aurora turned from the window to face her maid, "I won't give myself to him."

Phoebe was silent. She merely looked at the young woman, whom she'd reared since infancy, pacing back and forth in her bedroom. Aurora's figure stood out against the four posted bed and gilt edged mirrors behind her. Her blue eyes barely blinked, so concentrated was she on figuring out what was to be done.

Aurora said at last, "I must leave."

The maid rushed forward, and held her hand, "What if you're discovered?"

The princess searched the room with her eyes, she despaired.

"Where would you go?"

"My grandfather," Aurora breathed hope, "He's always been fond of me, and disagreed with father many times," she nodded, "He can protect me."

"But he lives in Exedra," Phoebe fidgeted nervously, "It's many leagues from here, do you even know the way?"

"Yes," a smile illuminated the princess's face, "I will run away."

Holding Phoebe's hand once more, Aurora said, "Now retire, I don't want you to be a part of this, I dread to think something might happen to you because of me."

The maid bowed humbly. Aurora watched as she closed the door, then she turned back to the window. She put her hand on the cold glass, and pushed it open.

Chapter 5

The princess gently opened her window, retreating from the cold wind as she clutched her blouse tightly about her. Then, turning back, she climbed out upon the ledge. She could see the lights of the patrols in the distance. There were so many, but she knew that she had to chance it.

The frightened girl skirted along the narrow ledge, looking down Aurora couldn't see the ground, it was so dark. Her back was pressed against the palace walls, her head looked to the side. She saw a drainpipe; reaching out with her soft hands she clutched it. Then began her descent, a light thud sounded when the supple creature at last landed upon the floor. Aurora crouched low, she could hear the beating of her heart.

Her eyes penetrated the dark, in one swift movement Aurora darted across the lawn; the moss dampening her silk shoes. When she saw the perimeter wall, she felt a sinking feeling in her gut. She scolded herself for overlooking it. Aurora glanced across at the gate, but that was no use, she thought, it was too heavily guarded and besides, they would recognise her instantly.

Realising for the first time that she was captive in her own kingdom, that the palace walls kept her locked in as much as it kept the people out, she thought about returning to the palace, but then she noticed the ominous shadow in front of her, darker and more opaque than the surrounding objects, providence had smiled upon her. With tremendous dexterity she climbed the tree, from its branches she rested her small feet atop the wall. Still shrouded in darkness, she let herself hang, dropping down the other side.

Lanterns flickered nearby, the guards talked loudly; the vapour from their breath was visible. Turning in the opposite direction, Aurora followed the road, then she turned left, the palace was a short way behind her now. She relaxed a little; she'd fled the immediate vicinity, but still needed to escape the city. Those walls would be harder to scale.

A cabriolet rumbled past. The post. Hastily she ran after the carriage.

"I am headed towards the west gate, might I procure a ride young sir?"

The coachman laughed, "I'm not quite so young miss." Then he paused, "It's late for a woman to be wandering the streets alone. What business have you?"

Aurora didn't reply, she trembled slightly.

The coachman surveyed her; his suspicions were soon allayed by her innocent demeanour.

"Very well miss, but I have only room on the box."

"That will do fine," she said.

The coachman headed inside the nearby post office, returning with several bundles of papers. He resumed his seat and drove the horses on.

During the journey, they didn't speak much, the coachman could see the poor creature was terrified; he feared a word from his lips would startle her into flight, so he remained quiet.

The mighty gates loomed in the distance, the cabriolet rolled to a halt. Aurora thanked the coachman, who wouldn't take any payment.

Aurora ran to the nearby post house, a princess who appeared to be a jade. It was late; she slipped into the stables, took a horse, and silently led it away. She took a riding cloak that hung from a nail on the wall; casting it around herself she advanced to the gate.

The night watchmen ordered her to halt; he walked up to her, and held a lantern to her face. Aurora's heart began to race as he scrutinised her, her body was tense, rigidly she stood in the night.

He asked, "Where are you going?"

"I have business in the country."

The watchmen's face didn't flinch.

"It's where my family lives, I'm a poor working girl who has been delayed in the city."

The watchmen looked into the same pair of placid eyes that the coachman had. He saw that same pure mien that had allayed the postman's suspicions. The watchman signalled for her to continue. The barrier was raised, the girl passed.

The young princess had fled her cage, she galloped into the night. But so concentrated was she upon her flight that she didn't stop to consider the fact, that she, a woman of 18 would be travelling alone at night beyond the safety of the city wall. When the adrenaline of her escape abated, she grew pensive, and felt vulnerable.

Aurora had come to that part of the highway that ran through the forest, and, as she rode along, surrounded by trees and the dark, she became afraid. She increased her pace, in order to shorten the journey, but was forced to soon stop. Ahead, on the highway, she saw three riders who were blocking her way. They sat astride their beasts, the two on the flanks held a lantern for the one at the centre. All three were engaged in studying a map.

The princess had almost stopped breathing because she was not forty paces from them. Then, as if guided by the long tendrils of fate, a wolf howled. The man at the centre still studied his map, but the others looked around nervously, and saw the woman - frozen - staring back at them.