AN: Next chapter and I know it's taking me forever. I don't feel like apologizing anymore cause it's not my fault. R&R. And I don't mean Rest and Relax.

Her pounding heartbeat matched the speed of her feet as she flew through the halls clutching her bundle of silk. If she didn’t get this fixed it could mess up everything her family had worked for. The large, spiral stairs came into view and her heart gave a leap because somewhere down the stairs, near the basements of the castle was the royal family’s tailor and surely, if she explained her situation and maybe traded something with him, the tailor would help. And if he didn’t…well, she wouldn’t think about that.

Our little seamstress was almost there when another figure suddenly came into view. Going too fast to stop, she ran into the person, hearing the blow knock the air out of them, and fell to the floor with the dress flinging haphazardly from her hands.

Quickly regaining her senses she moved away from the person whom she had fallen on finding that not only was this person undeniably male, but he was also the Prince, who’s betrothed’s dress had been ripped by her. Bowing low, she kept her eyes on the floor while she searched for the dress.

The Prince pulled himself up a little disoriented and stared at the girl before him cautiously. The seamstress berated herself while apologizing profusely. Why didn’t she watch where she was going? Now the Prince knew and he was sure to get exiled or hung for her deeds and her family would be shunned and banished. Ah, what a terrible mess she had gotten herself into.

Apologies will run short soon. C’mon, you’re smart. Think your way; talk your way out of this…

The Prince stooped down gathering the cloth in his hands, scrutinizing it. Swiftly getting to her feet, the seamstress stressed as he put his hand through the hole in the garment and twiddled his fingers around it. Standing it no longer, the seamstress babbled out some form of hopelessly put together explanation as she reached for the dress.

“No, don’t look at it. You must give it here. I need to repair the stitching. No, no, no! The groom can’t be allowed to see the dress before he’s married.”

Eyeing her with a hint of mockery in his eyes, the Prince lifted it above his head just out of her reach. He spoke to her like she was a child, “Now, isn’t your room with the weaving in the other direction? What are you doing out here at this time of night, huh? Are you lost?”

Instead of jumping for the dress or giving in like he thought she would, the girl’s innocent face slipped into a deep, aggravated frown that made him twitch.

“I could ask you the same thing,” she responded, not bothering to add a ‘your highness’ this time. She was bold.

“Why are you in the commoner’s guest hallway this time of night? Running away from someone, ne, Prince?” Very bold.

“Now would you kindly give me back the dress,” she finished, leaving the very astounded Prince very intrigued.

Pulling himself together swiftly, he handed her the dress, but caught her arm before she could go. “Well, aren’t you the smart one. Thinking you have me trapped. But, who would believe you over me? I am the Prince after all and you, I must say, haven’t been quite respectful of my authority. Not to mention, the fact that my bride’s dress has been ripped.”

The seamstress, though facing quite an amount of trouble, remained indignant and glared at the Prince. He smiled broadly, admiring her bold disregard to the punishment she could face. “Let’s make a deal. You never saw me here and I never saw you either? Now, let’s go to the tailor and get this dress fixed?” he said offering his hand.

She blinked taken off guard for a moment and watched him warily. “No strings attached?”

The Prince chuckled and took her hand for her, placing it on his arm. “No strings attached. Now come. We mustn’t stand here all night. They’ll find us missing.”

The girl let him escort her albeit reluctantly and at a slower pace than his until they reached the tailor on the bottom floors of the castle.