Chapter One

I woke to glorious sunshine lighting up my room, my fluffy comforter keeping me perfectly warm. I sat up slowly, letting out a huge yawn. I could hear the birds singing outside my window, and the smell of waffles drifted into my room. It was the start of another perfect day in Utopia.

Of course, nothing was imperfect on Utopia. My father, the king, worked vigilantly to assure that his people were happy. And they were. The people of Utopia were extremely grateful they lived here, where the grass was always green, where there were always cool breezes rustling the tall trees. The sun was always shining, and it was always spring. Truly, Utopia was paradise.

I quietly entered the hall after putting on my fuzzy blue slippers. The private part of the castle was buzzing with activity: the cooks preparing breakfast downstairs, the maids doing their morning chores while humming cheerful tunes, and my mother taking a shower on the far end of our enormous, echoing hall. There was only one sour note in this beautiful morning ensemble.

I could hear my father had a guest in his study. I frowned slightly, stopping outside the office door to listen to the conversation. Father was not his usual cheery self. Instead, his voice was icy and imperial.

"I want you to tell me exactly what happened," Father said briskly.

"It was the Renegades, your Highness," said a meek voice. I recognized that voice almost instantly. It was feeble old Mr. Hart, the head village baker. He was very jumpy these days, and said it was because his old age kept playing tricks on him. Father should've known better than to treat Mr. Hart like that. "T-they surrounded the castle, mugging tax collectors."

"I told you, Hart," Father said menacingly. I shivered. I had never heard him being so malicious. "There are no Renegades, there never have been any Renegades. Do I make myself clear? They are nothing but a myth, meant to scare us. You are weakening our country by believing in them."

"Y-yes, your Majesty," Hart's voice was barely audible.

"When was this?"

"Last night, when the taxes were brought in from all over the country."

I gasped. Mugging had taken place while I slept? This was unheard of in Utopia. Utopia was perfect. It had no crime.

"What was that?" asked Father, alarmed. I clamped a hand over my mouth, cursing myself for stupidity.

I ducked into the nearest room, closing the door as silently as I could. With bated breath, I heard the study door swing open violently, then what seemed like hours of silence. Finally, the door slowly closed. I waited for a few seconds, then let out a sigh of relief.

I sat against the door until my father and his guest quietly left the room. I could still not comprehend my father's step out of character. Usually he was kind and jovial, wonderful to all of his people. All of Utopia thought of him as a blessing to the country.

What about those Renegades? Both men had said it like a disgusting swear word. I agreed with my father, though. The Renegades were simply not real. They couldn't be real; no one mugged anyone in Utopia. It still wouldn't hurt to ask about them, did it? There was absolutely no way to mention the mugging to my father, though. He would know where I had heard about it, and I certainly didn't want to face the wrath that Father had achieved with Mr. Hart.

I opened the door and went down the smooth mahogany staircase, tracing the intricate carvings on the rail with my finger. Mother had designed the rail to have each family member's favorite symbol to be carved into it. There were five hidden throughout the stair rail: mine was a weeping willow; it's drooping leaves swaying in the wind. Weeping willows had always entranced me. They were beautiful, but also sorrowful. It was if they were concealing a horrible truth from everyone around them, but trying to act like nothing was happening. My older brother's symbol was a sword, from his obsession with tales of Utopian knights. I shuddered, wondering how anyone could enjoy tales containing bloodshed and war. My little sister had chosen a rose, which was her name. She would only wear clothes with roses on them, or clothes with the color of roses. Mother's choice was tiny little carvings of my brother, Rose, and me; what she loved most in her entire life. Finally, Father chose a hawk, watching ever vigilantly over his country and family.

"Morning, Louise," said my brother, Lucas, cheerfully as I sat down at the table. I could see that the whole family had been waiting for me.

"I hope I haven't kept you waiting for too long," I said, sending wary glances at my father.

"No, not at all," Father said pleasantly.

I frowned slightly. Whatever had happened a few minutes ago, Father apparently was already over it. A few minutes seemed hardly enough time for such a huge change in mood.

"Something wrong, dear?" Mother asked concernedly, seeing the frown on my face.

I quickly ended my train of thought, giving a bright smile to everyone seated at the table. "No Mom, I'm fine." I laughed. "Who could not be fine on such a beautiful morning?"

"Pass the butter, will you?" Rose asked me, mouth full of biscuit. I grimaced, seeing partially digested food.

"Rose," Mother reprimanded her. "You know not to talk with food in your mouth. Now apologize to your sister."

Whenever anyone in Utopia inconvenienced another in any way, they had to apologize immediately, and carry out a request from the one they offended.

Rose swallowed, then said, almost inaudibly, "Sorry Louise.' Dejectedly, she said, "What do I have to do?" Her face held a pleading look.

I thought for a while. What did Rose have that I could possibly use? "You have to.let me borrow your horse today." A took a sip of milk. "I'm going to town to meet Philly, and it's Bronco's day off."

"Can't you take another horse?" Rose whined.

"Hey, I could've done a lot worse. I could've made you do the breakfast dishes. All you have to do in this case is say 'okay'."

"'Sides," said Lucas, reaching for the biscuits. "You can't change an apology favor. Next time, chew with your mouth closed."

"Lucas," said Father in a mock-threatening voice. It was a drastic contrast to the tone I had heard him use with Mr. Hart. "Don't talk to your sister like that. Do you want to be doing a favor as well?" Lucas mumbled something inaudible.

After eating a hearty breakfast of eggs, bacon, and biscuits, I took Father and Mother aside to ask about the Renegades. "Father, Mother, who are the Renegades?"

Both exchanged nervous glances, and an uncomfortable silence followed my question.

"Where did you hear about the Renegades?" Father asked. I shrunk back, terrified. His voice had acquired the same cold-hearted tone as it had earlier this morning. His calm green eyes were now cold and unforgiving, and he stood rigid and imposing. This couldn't be my father. This man looked ready to kill.

"Oh, I heard someone mention it," I said airily, trying not to betray my nervousness.

"Who? And when?"

I pretended to concentrate on this matter to my utmost ability. I tilted my head towards the ceiling and rolled my eyes to the top of my head. After as much of that as I thought my father could stand, I calmly said, "I can't remember. It was a while ago though." Now I felt horrible. This was my first time lying in my entire life. It was odd how easily it rolled of my tongue. Hopefully lying wouldn't become a habit.

"Can't you be more specific?!" Father grabbed my shoulders and shook my violently; my teeth rattled. I tore out of his grip and rushed behind my mother, terror apparent in my eyes.

Mother gently put a hand on his shoulder. I admired her bravery, for Father was now shaking with rage. If anyone outside of the family had done asked these questions, I was sure he would do worse than shaking them.

"Alfred, please," Mother quietly, looking him straight in the eye. Her voice was confident and strong. Where had she ever learned to deal with men in rages like that? Surely no one in Utopia ever acted like this.

Father took a few deep breaths and a after a few seconds, seemed to calm down. His face was still dangerously stormy, however, and I didn't dare say anything in fear of sending him into another tantrum. Unlike the tantrums of my sister, his were much more dangerous.

He sighed. "I'm sorry, Louise. I lost my temper. What favor do you request?"

A fierce debate was raging in my head. I could ask him to tell me about the Renegades, but could he control his anger this time? He was a very imposing man; he towered above my mother and me at 6 feet and half, and the imperial way he held himself, which at other times was admirable, now made me hesitate.

"I'd like you to tell me about the Renegades," I finally said.

Father sighed again. "The first thing I want you to know about the Renegades is that they're a complete myth. It was made up by our enemies to try to weaken up politically."

"Utopia has enemies?" I asked, startled.

"Yes, dear. Don't worry, though, these are weak, distant countries. Like Shelena, for example," said Mother soothingly.

That made me feel a great deal better. Shelena was a tiny country far south of Utopia. IT would never be strong enough to try to invade. I cringed, thinking of war. My generation was extremely blessed to live in complete peace. The history of war I was forced to learn in school chilled me to the bone.

"The Renegades are supposedly a rebel group who disagree with our government. They do everything they can to open other's eyes to the 'political imperfection'," Father continued.

"But everything in Utopia is perfect," I said, adamantly. "There is nothing wrong with our politics."

"Of course. That's why the Renegades are a myth," Father said reassuringly.

Mother, Father, and I all stood in an uncomfortable silence until Mother excused herself to help the maids with the morning cleaning. I started to leave when Father gently grabbed my arm. I glanced at his hand, unsure of his intentions. When he noticed me looking at his hand, he slowly dropped it, as if embarrassed by his actions.

The father I saw now looked more like the father I knew and loved. His green eyes were once again happy, and his face was apologetic. Once again, he was the ultimate picture of kindness.

"Please don't tell Rose or Lucas about the Renegades," Father said pleadingly.

"Why? As you said, they're just as myth."

"You know how Lucas is, with his obsession with those knights. He might very well want to go and bring that group down, even though they very well aren't real."

I almost laughed. That was exactly what Lucas would do. "Alright."

"Thank you. You're a good girl, Louise. No, a young lady. We'll have to find you a husband soon. How'd did you get to be 15 so quickly?" He let out a laugh, and ran a hand through his messy hazel hair. "Now, run off and saddle Raindrop."

I curtsied, then rushed off to the stables. That had been the oddest conversation I had ever been through. Now I just needed time to think, time I would get while riding Raindrop to town.

"Remember to stay in the north side of town!" Father called after me.

Of course I knew to stay in the north side. He told us this every time we went to town, and we had never questioned it. All we ever needed and wanted was in the north part of town.

I headed to the stables, and saw an unfamiliar man standing by the barn door. His face was rugged: he had a thin black beard, more like stubble, actually, that covered the lower half of his face, and his brown eyes twinkled with mischief. His black hair fell to his shoulders, and it was massively knotted and tangled. He looked about 20, but that might be because his beard rose his age. The unfamiliarity of him meant only one thing: he was from time. Father had made it a point for Rose, Lucas, and me to know all our servants and castle staff.

"Hello," I said when I had reached him. "Are you from town?"

"Yes, actually, I am. I was hoping to borrow a palace horse." His voice was smooth and silky, and made him sound younger than he looked.

"Of course," I said, surprised. He didn't need to ask my permission to borrow a horse.

I opened the stable door, and he calmly stepped inside. I grabbed a clipboard right toe the left of the door, along with a pen, and handed it to him.

"You need to fill this out if you need a horse. Next time, feel free to come in and do it yourself. You just have to bring the horse back by the end of the week."

"Thank you, milady. May I hear your name?"

The poetic and smooth way he talked completely flustered me. "Louise, sir," said quietly.

He raised an eyebrow. "You wouldn't happen to be Princess Louise?"

"Yes, that's me. And your name is-"

He chuckled, cracking an evil grin. "You'll know soon enough, dear Louise."

Then something hard painfully made contact with my head, and everything around me faded.