Brief recap: When young, Prince George grew up his twin sister Juliana and best friend and ward to his father, Sebastian. One day Juliana was taken and killed by the witch covens, starting a long standing war.
Once grown, George too was taken by the witches. For reasons unknown, they turned George into a woman before he was rescued and the witches killed.
Now back home he is learning the life of a princess under his new name Georgiana, posing as his long lost sister. Sebastian has left to cope with the grief of losing his friend, meanwhile George is told he has months to marry and continue the royal line.
But to his horror, he is assaulted by another Prince a the second of three balls. Will he ever be able to get used to this new life? And with only one ball left before the deadline of his 28th birthday, who will he chose to wed?
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The next morning he awoke to Martha gently stirring him from where he slept still crouched over the desk. With one look at his face, she gently guided him to bed.
"Come on sweetheart, ya clearly ain't well. Let's get you some rest," she said. Before she even left the room, he had fallen asleep again in the soft cushions of the bed.
He awoke again a few hours later to Martha bringing in a tray of breakfast. She spoke merrily to him, but he didn't have the strength to respond. Once he had eaten she took the tray and sighed.
"Ya mother asked me to let her know once you had eaten. She wants to come to see ya."
"Oh," he said, his voice small and weak. He nodded, Martha understanding the meaning with a small sad smile.
She bustled from the room, and a few minutes later the door was opening. His mother looked at him in bed for a moment, before walking to him without a word and wrapping her arms around him tightly.
At first he was surprised, then he felt the hot stinging tears well up again in his eyes.
"I'm sorry," she said, kissing his hair. "I'm sorry my darling."
"He hurt me," he whispered.
"I know," she said softly. "He won't be coming here again. I'm sorry I got angry at you. I know that you were just upset, but Royal women don't- can't do what you did last night."
"Even though I was defending myself?"
She sighed, "I'm glad you got him off you. But next time, you need to not put yourself in a position that you're open to that sort of advance. Don't sit in a dark courtyard on your own."
"So it's my fault?" He said bitterly, pulling away from her.
She smiled sadly. "No. But this is the sort of thing women have to think about."
He didn't say anything, which his mother took to be acceptance.
"Come. Let's get out of bed. What would you say to a ride around the grounds?"
He looked out the window at the sunshine creeping through, the wide blue sky. He nodded.
"Yeah, I'd like that. Thank you Mother."
"Of course my sweetheart. I love you, you know that?"
"Yes mother," he said and she walked from the room.
He sighed and stepped out from the bed and walked towards the wardrobe. As he did he passed the desk and glanced at the quill left out of its pot, dripping on the tabletop, and papers that were disheveled and disordered. He remembered suddenly writing the letter to Sebastian, and scanned the floor for it. But it wasn't there. He ducked looking under the table, and under the bed. Nothing.
Martha entered and he jumped up, turning to her.
"You alright Princess?"
"Yes. Um- Martha?" He asked absently, still scanning the room for the letter. "Did you see a letter on the floor this morning?"
"Aye I did," she said, opening the wardrobe door and flicking through the outfits inside. "You'll need your riding trousers," she said almost to herself.
"Good! So... where is the letter?" He asked, trying to keep his voice casual.
"Oh probably a few hours on its way by now."
"What? You- you sent it?!"
"Aye. I sent the letter with Prince Sebastian's young messenger this mornin'. These trousers are lovely what do you think?"
"Martha why did you send that letter! It wasn't meant to be sent!"
"Or maybe it was," she said, looking him in the eye for the first time. "Now. Get that slip off ye so we can get ya dressed."
*
The days passed into weeks and George heard nothing from Sebastian. He wondered if he had read the letter that he had never intended him to read. He couldn't entirely remember what he had written in his disoriented state.
The dread of his upcoming decision mixed with the aching loss of Sebastian's letters and George found himself becoming desperate. He snuck into the clock tower so often that he had read all of Sebastian's substantial collection of novels twice. But soon even that hiding place wasn't enough to satisfy his craving for escape.Finally one night, he decided enough was enough.
Silent as a ghost, he carefully slipped out of his bedroom and tiptoed down the long hallways, his wool cloak billowing around his ankles. He carefully edged around each corner, but the corridors were mercifully clear. There were guards at the front door, but he knew that the kitchen had a small back exit that was usually unmanned. As predicted, the kitchen was empty and he swept across it straight for the door. As he turned the large iron handle however, it didn't move. Locked.
Not ready to let that stop him, he searched around the door for the key. He found it tucked just at the top of the doorframe, and smiled to himself. Fate was on his side tonight.
Once the door creaked open, he slipped out and into the chilly night. As he ran quickly and quietly across the grass, he pulled his cloak around him to keep out the cold, but his smile was only growing larger by the second. His heart beat quickly and for the first time in a while he felt alive.
