Once again, James was seated at the King's left side.

The air was thin in the drawing room in which they were sitting. How they ever all fit in there James would never know. He was just glad that he got in before the heavy wooden doors were closed.

Most of the room was occupied by Prince Aerid and his men, who seemed to sit broadly, filling more space than a usual man. As annoying as it was, James had to admit he envied the illusion of power it gave them. The Prince himself leaned back in his chair as if he was in his throne in his own kingdom while King Oryan sat rigid, watching the others out of the corners of his eyes.

"My request is very simple," Prince Aerid nearly whispered, his voice rough and scratchy. The light reflected in his eyes from the fire made the bags that shadowed them seem even darker. He was weak and pale but the room hushed as he parted his lips. "A wife for your kingdom."

King Oryan paused for a moment before speaking. "I still do not understand. What reason do you have to threaten my people?"

"I am saddened to say that I am not the first to do the threatening, your highness," Prince Aerid continued. James fought to suppress a scowl. He somehow made the honored title seem vulgar and base. "While I was visiting last, an elderly woman-a sorceress-cast a curse on me. I now have little time left to live. I need a wife to produce an heir so my kingdom might continue as it has been. I request only that I choose the maiden."

King Oryan could hardly believe his ears. In all of its simplicity the request was the strangest he'd ever heard. He feared that it was some sort of trap. "I do not know of such a woman," he scoffed. "We are a peaceful nation. I have heard no account of a ...sorceress, you say?"

"Something of that nature," Prince Aerid shrugged slightly. James' breath caught. It looked as if there was not but bones moving inside of his clothes. "She lives in a far corner of your kingdom deep in the forest. My men and I were lost-we came across her and needed a place to stay. Needless to say, things did not go well."

"What proof do you have?" demanded Lord Carnegie, the eldest of the nobility. James sighed; it was an idiotic question. Prince Aerid could not have possibly feigned his condition. Besides, proof is not necessary when one has an army.

An eruption of angry discussion filled the room as King Oryan's eyes fixed intently on the table before him. James closed his eyes and rubbed his thumb and forefinger on his temples, wondering for a moment why he had been so desperate to attend the meeting. It was obvious nothing was being accomplished.

Aside from James, the only men who had remained quiet were the scattered few foreigners who were quickly beginning to regret their decision to visit Alderbury. They certainly didn't want to get their kingdoms involved in all of this nonsense. Each could feel the tension slowly rising, ready to burst at any given moment.

The king's top three advisors huddled together in a corner, discussing rapidly and quietly. They'd have a meeting with the king later, but he was obviously going to be forced into a decision by himself, right at that moment, with all of the men in the castle as his witness.

"That is enough," King Oryan rumbled deeply. Silence immediately followed. His voice may not have brought order in itself, but he certainly had the power of control reachable within him. "For peace, we will provide you with a wife as well as a place to stay as long as it takes you to find a match."

Lord Carnegie screwed up his face to hide the desperate want to say something but decided better of it. It was not wise to cross the king-not even King Oryan.

"I thank you, sir," Prince Aerid said, more loudly but now cracking under the effort. "Let us hope this goes as smoothly as possible."

James could have sworn his lip twisted into a smile.

The prince and his men stood up silently, exiting through the door like shadows. The fire had died down even further and without the overwhelming number of bodies, the room became quite chilly. Many of the remaining men were exasperatedly eager to leave.

Lord Carnegie was the first to go, sweeping out the door in a huff. He would talk to the king in private later, no doubt, but he would wait until he had collected his thoughts entirely.

With his departure, the other men found it acceptable to leave as well. James waited patiently as the men slowly trickled through the door. Those who passed in front of him and noticed him for the first time stared openly as they passed. The usual. He kept his face blank, empty as they expected. Once again he was alone on a large, brightly lit stage, and all the world was his audience.

"Your highness," he blurted as soon as the last man exited. "We-you must be extremely cautious in your negotiations. It is clear that-"

Suddenly, the door creaked open again slightly. One of the men lingered there hesitantly-a foreigner, James thought. Probably frightened out of his wits, come to inform the king of his departure.

"Sir, if I may..." the man held the door open with his fingertips, a feat in itself. The dim light revealed how badly scarred he was and the baked, leathery look of his face and hands.

King Oryan nodded.

The man slipped through the door, allowing it to click in place behind him. "We have been acquainted, of course..."

"Of course, Alec," the king sighed. Since he was a boy, Lord Alec had known the king. Though he had no military experience, King Oryan was the kindest ruler Alec had yet to meet, and respected him despite his kingdom's weakness of physical power. He only hoped the king could handle this ...unusual situation.

"I must warn you," Lord Alec rushed suddenly, glancing at the door expectantly. "I have led my men across the land, and never have I heard of this... Prince Aerid." He almost spat the name, making James smile slightly.

"Are you claiming he is an imposter?" the king frowned. That complicated things.

Lord Alec hesitated. James knew what he was thinking: it was unlikely. The prince would have to be an excellent actor to convince a small army of his power. Perhaps they joined him in hopes of gaining power themselves, but... no, no, all he wanted was a wife. What benefit would they seek in that unless he already had a kingdom? "Why," Alec chose his words carefully. "Would he demand a wife from Alderbury, when he could just get one from his own country?"

"Well it's obvious, isn't it?" James knew he should have waited for the guest to leave to begin speaking, but it was the perfect opportunity to express his opinion. Besides, he quite liked the astonished look on the Lord's face. He looked as if he wanted to protest but then couldn't figure out why.

"Is it, now?" Lord Alec cocked an eyebrow, smirking slightly.

James rolled his eyes. It was a strange reaction, but admittedly refreshing. "Should he marry a lady from this kingdom," he said clearly and logically. "We'll be bound in a treaty. A treaty is much less messy than a war, and can be just as powerful. His friends become our friends. His enemies are now our enemies."

Lord Alec frowned. He was no longer looking at James in amusement. Now he was confused. "But... you..." he shook his head, deciding to ignore it. James was immensely thankful he didn't ask. He wasn't exactly as high rank as Lord Alec, but at the moment it didn't matter. "King Oryan, I fear he is correct. Giving him a wife entails much more than it appears. Heavens above know how powerful or dangerous his kingdom is."

King Oryan said nothing, a shadow cast over his eyes. He looked up at James.

"We are not giving him a wife," James said simply. "We are giving him the future."

Cassandra and Victoria giggled silently to each other as they watched both the nobility and the servants running about like madmen trying to get together a group of women to present to the prince.

The majority of girls that passed them were enthralled to think that they might soon become a princess (especially the peasants), but for once Cassandra was glad she was ignored. The thought of the pale, bony prince gave her chills up and down her spine.

"Perhaps he has a nice personality," Victoria deadpanned. "Those bags under his eyes are from where he leaked out happiness, he had so much of it."

"Oh, Victoria, you're terrible," Cassandra grinned devilishly. "How are we ever going to find you a suitable husband?"

"I shall simply impress him with my charm," Victoria tilted her nose up, smiling regally. She may have been joking, but it clearly came naturally to her. "‘Oh Prince Aerid, it's simply terrible what that old witch has done to you. Wait here whilst I brew you some eye of newt tea and get my black cat to fly on its broom to go fetch you your pumpkin carriage pulled by unicorns.'"

Cassandra forced a laugh, which came out sounding a bit more like choking. She knew that Victoria was much like her father, and didn't believe a word of what the prince was saying. But Cassandra believed him. Cassandra was living proof that he was telling the truth. She tried not to show her fear, however, as she knew Victoria would simply lecture her.

"Oh, Cassandra, you've got that look again..." Victoria muttered.

"I have absolutely no idea what you are talking about," Cassandra said too quickly, her words mashing together. "I am looking as I always do, which is..."

Cassandra stopped, noticing what appeared to be a box floating along the corridor on its own. She raised an eyebrow, looking down. There were small feet under it. In fact, as it came closer, she noticed there was a small body under it.

A very young girl, scraggly haired and skin baked brown as the mark of a peasant, was attempting to carry a heavy wooden box big enough that Cassandra herself could have fit inside of it. She may not have had to do physical labor since her father became an advisor to the king, but she still felt sympathy for the girl.

"You poor dear, let me help you with that," Cassandra said in the motherly voice she often heard Victoria used. It sounded a bit strange, admittedly, but she hoped it would make the girl allow her to help.

The girl looked as if she wanted to protest, but at the same time really didn't want to carry that box. When Cassandra bent down and tried to take it from her, the girl's grip tightened instinctively. Not because she would get into trouble for allowing someone to do her work for her, but because she saw and recognized Cassandra's face.

"Come now, it'll be alright, I've got it," Cassandra begged. She felt a pang in her chest at the look on the girl's face. If you really want to know what people think of you, she thought sadly, ask a child.

The girl shook her head frantically and yanked the box back. As the wood slipped past Cassandra's hands, she felt splinters lodge themselves into her fingers, and her palm passed over a latch. She let go instantly as she heard the latch click, both herself and the girl falling backwards.

Beads of all shapes and colors poured out of the box and began rolling down the corridor in a mass, much resembling the rapids of a river during a storm. A man down the hall slid on them, grabbing hold of a suit of armor on display, knocking it over. The axe fell, nearly hitting a passing Duke. It was sharp enough that it made a small incision in the stone floor.

The girl made a small noise and took off in a run in the opposite direction, leaving Cassandra feeling naked in the middle of the hall. She heard Victoria call her name, but all she could think about was hiding her face from the duke and hiding her tears from everyone else. She walked quickly to where she had been standing previously, not even hearing what she said.

"Do you believe me now?" Cassandra muttered darkly.

"No," Victoria said firmly. "It was an accident. Cassandra, you are not bad luck."

"You're right," she forced out, her voice hoarse and barely audible. "It's much, much worse."

She then took off into a run outside, not caring how unladylike it was. The horrible realization had finally come upon her that if she did something to mess up relations with the visiting prince, she could put her entire kingdom in danger. She wanted desperately to cry, but the few tears that rolled down her cheeks seemed to evaporate into the moist air around her.

She stopped running after a bit, noticing the dark wooded area growing closer, and turned and walked back towards the castle until she found a single beam of light that had broken its way through the clouds. It was a dim blue rather than the shimmering yellow that was proper for sunlight, but Cassandra knew it must have put up quite a fight to be there at all. The sky was even darker than usual, as if it might actually rain instead of simply making everything sticky.

She lay down in the grass underneath the light and looked up at the sky and frowned. The clouds above her and the mountains to the sides were as much of a prison as the castle. It would be lovely, she thought drowsily, to live in a big, open field by the ocean where nothing could go wrong...

Her dream was unusual, even for dreams. She was standing on white, and above her was immense blue. The sky, she giggled. How silly of me to forget. She reached down to touch the ground, which she pleasantly found to be snow. She turned, looking all around her. There was nothing as far as the eye could see. It was wonderful.

She didn't know how long she played in the snow until her hands began to grow numb and her stomach gurgled and she realized she couldn't stay there forever. She sighed and turned around towards home, and suddenly she saw a small, dark shape in the distance. But she never got to find out what it was, because the instant she took a step to attempt to find it, the ground began to rumble loudly. A crack slowly formed, splitting the earth in two and widening quickly. Before she knew it, Cassandra was falling.

She woke up when a raindrop plopped in her eye.

"Ow!" she cried, shooting up with her hand over her face. "What in Heaven's name just..." She continued muttering to herself as she attempted to open her eye, which was stuck shut, the eyelashes thick with wetness and laced together. A few more thin, cold raindrops burned her skin as she stumbled toward the castle. She couldn't tell if it was really nighttime or if the clouds were just making everything look as such, but she knew she should be getting back anyway. A lady unaccompanied outside at such an hour would cause quite a scandal indeed.

By the time she slid through an entrance, thankful it was still open, her hair was askew and the corridors were much emptier than they'd been when she left. It was quite a relief. She was suddenly exhausted; her eye was still half shut and she was a bit shaky, realizing she had had a dream but couldn't remember what about.

She stumbled along, thinking about plopping down in her nice, warm bed. However, she soon realized that she had turned down the wrong hallway. This one was completely silent and pitch black; the torches set along the walls were not lit. Cassandra shuddered and turned around, jumping when she heard voices from a room she hadn't seen before. She walked towards the door slowly, resting her ear on the door, her heart pounding so loud she could feel it in her ears.

"Our lesson today will be over the Four Stages theory of the progression of warm diseases in traditional Chinese medicine," the tutor rattled. Cassandra sighed. Victoria was correct; she was much too excitable.

She considered staying hidden behind the door-she often listened in on lessons given to the children of nobility-but she was much too shaken that night. She passed by the door quickly, her body only creating a shadow for an instant, but she heard a noise from around the corner.

Excitable, she reminded herself. Much too excitable. She took a deep breath and stepped toward the corner, then spurted into an almost run, commanding herself to remain calm. Unfortunately, before she could get very far, she tripped over something.

Something that gave a loud, "Oof."

She turned on her back instantly, ready for action. She saw a silhouetted figure crouched down before her, rubbing an arm tenderly. Oops, she thought.

"Excuse me sir, I am terribly sorry, I didn't see you-"

Cassandra's eyes widened. The man slowly lifted his head until it was in the light. His face was long, angular and contoured with high cheekbones and a crooked nose. He had the illusion of looking incredibly frightening with his face shrouded by shadow, but Cassandra knew very well she shouldn't be afraid. She could tell by his fanciful clothing that he was a court jester. A harlequin. A fool. It was perfectly well known that all jesters were either fools or insane.

Somehow this made him all the more terrifying.

He said nothing as she tripped over her blasted hoop skirt trying to get up. She didn't look back as she sprinted down the hallway until she got to her bedroom. She latched the door behind her and practically threw off her dress and leapt into her bed, though she didn't fall asleep for quite some time.

She was beginning to wonder if the whole kingdom had become cursed.

Over the next few days, Victoria and Cassandra had come to an agreement that they would sit peacefully in the garden. Theoretically, Victoria wasn't supposed to spend much time outdoors because of her illness. But Cassandra couldn't help but notice that she seemed a might healthier out of the cold, moldy hallways of the castle.

"Oh do tell another story," Victoria pleaded, attempting to make a pouty face. Her lips wouldn't agree; they were much too regal for such silly things. Victoria could have inflated her cheeks and squinted her eyes and stuck out her tongue and she would have looked lovely.

"Alright, alright," Cassandra grinned. She enjoyed teasing her friend, but she really loved telling her stories more than anything. Because her only purpose in the castle seemed to be consuming food, drink, and a spare bedroom, she spent the majority of her time listening in on lessons or visiting the library and reading. When she was younger she spent her days in the stables helping the servants with the horses, but now that she was a Young Lady, they no longer allowed it. She was stuck in limbo between royalty and peasantry, and there was no moving up or down.

"Once upon a time," Cassandra's voice became hushed and serious, making Victoria lean slightly forward in her seat. "There was a beautiful but terrible woman who married a King whose wife had died in childbirth. But the child lived and became the woman's stepdaughter. The woman prided herself on being the fairest in the land until-"

"Victoria, dearie, it's time fer yer lesson," Victoria's housemaid clucked as she approached, not even glancing at Cassandra. "Time ter stop yer playin' in the garden."

Cassandra noticed that the woman was making an effort to keep her face straight as a board forward, not even glancing at her out of the corner of her eye. Victoria began to protest, claiming that she was having a perfectly lovely time in the garden, thank you, but then her face went cold as she looked at the castle. Cassandra glanced up. Victoria's father was leaning against a pillar. As soon as he knew she saw him, he looked at Cassandra, frowned, and then left. She knew Lord Carnegie didn't approve of her, but she wished he wouldn't try to separate the two.

Cassandra sighed and decided it best to relax for a bit. She closed her eyes and breathed in the sweet scent of the roses around her. She began day dreaming, but it all ended up being about a story that she had read. She couldn't seem to think of anything new, because she didn't know what the world was like beyond her kingdom other than what she had read in stories. And she had no idea how true they were.

She decided upon going to the library and finding a book about another country. Really, she had had quite enough of fiction anyway. The stories were all starting to blend together in her head. Especially after she transformed every leading female into herself.

She found herself walking quickly. Unaccompanied again, yes, yes. It didn't seem like such a terrible thing. She supposed it didn't matter-not many thought her respectable anyway. Perhaps a reputation of getting into all kinds of shenanigans with the servant boys would distract people from their usual disapproval of her.

She was almost to the library without passing a soul when she saw someone coming down the hall towards her. Whoever it was, he was the only thing standing between her and the library. She looked over her shoulder, and the hallway was much too long for her to get back around the corner without him seeing her anyway. The best thing she could do was to walk with her head held high straight through the library door.

She was accomplishing this quite nicely, if she did say so herself, until she realized who the man was. Going at quite a quick pace and looking rather exasperated about something was Prince Aerid. He was paler than ever... and appeared to be perspiring. Cassandra attempted to shoot her gaze downward, but she was frozen in a single forward direction. What followed was inevitable.

Their eyes met.

Instead of feeling the chill she was expecting, the awkwardness sent her into a flood of thoughts. His eyes were dark-almost black, in fact-just like the majority of people in her own nation. She was suddenly reminded of the fact that her eyes, for whatever reason, were different. A pale, snowy grey, her eyes had always made looking people in the eye a strange task. People don't take kindly to differences, she noted. Not even the colors of things.

In fact, each and every one of her faults began to plague her. Perhaps it was the feeling of inferiority caused by standing by a Prince, or perhaps it was the realization that he may have been ill, but he had the look of royalty: beautiful and regal. In fact, up close, the paleness of his skin only made him look more aesthetically pleasing, as if his newfound fragileness had transformed him into a porcelain doll. He made her long to be beautiful.

"What reason might a Lady have to walk the corridors unescorted at this hour?" he asked slyly; his voice carried though he didn't raise it.

"A reason as noble as yours, I'm certain," Cassandra retorted before she realized what she was doing.

Cassandra expected him to look at her in disgust. In fact, she almost expected him to leave on the assumption that all the girls in the kingdom were snarky and impolite. By that point she had grown quite accustomed to her actions yielding very negative results.

"Perhaps I should begin asking to meet maidens based on their intelligence," he winked. "It is possibly more important to have an heir who can make critical decisions than one who looks good in the family portraits."

Cassandra was stunned: he was being positively pleasant. But there was something about his wink that didn't sit well with her. He seemed near serious.

"Perhaps," she agreed politely, edging towards the door of the library. It was her intention to get out of that situation as soon as possible. So of course she was trapped.

"I hope to see you, then," he bowed slightly-just enough to be noticeable, and little enough to create a feel of dominance. He glanced down at her hand. "Haven't found love either?" he added sympathetically. She shook her head hesitantly. "Well, the best of luck to you. Though I don't suppose you'll really need it, eh?"

If she hadn't known it was her own mind skewing things, she would have sworn he'd said the word "luck" strangely. Coming from anyone else, this simple statement would have seemed warm and complimentary. Coming from Prince Aerid, it felt foreboding.

As soon as he was past her, she thrust herself into the library, pacing back and forth frantically. Perhaps she was overreacting, but the sudden realization hit her like an icy wind on a summer day. She hadn't thought herself a possibility to be considered by the prince for a wife. Victoria couldn't because of her illness, so Cassandra had always assumed that she couldn't because of...

But no one but Victoria knew about her curse.

If the chance should come the prince picked her as a wife, he would be choosing her curse without realizing it. It would be a disaster. The prince would be dead, a war would begin, and the kingdom would go to ruins. And all of that because of-

She didn't want to think about it.

If he was serious, it meant a paradox. She stayed, and he picked her: certain death. She left: she have the possibility of the kingdom suffering repercussions from her choice, from Prince Aerid's wrath. Once again, she was stuck. Stuck in the mountains, stuck in her societal rank, stuck in her inability to accomplish anything greater than merely existing. She looked back and came upon the realization that over her nearly eighteen years, she had never done anything worth remembering. She hadn't even had the opportunity.

With even the future taken from her, she realized she had nothing left in Alderbury unless she was curse-free. And she knew it existed, no matter what Victoria said. She could feel it all around her, thinning the air. There was only one thing to do.

She was going to have to find the source of the curse and finish it off before the curse could finish off her.

A/N: Why yes, I do realize she is being rash. But it will all come together. :)

SO... has anyone else noticed the lack of emails received from fictionpress? It's quite disheartening. D: It appears to be emailing some people and not others. Meh, totally out of whack. Oh well. :D

Question of the chapter: Too much description? I haven't done it much before, and I've gotten a lot of people tell me I need more. So comments/constructive criticism on this would be much appreciated.

Song for this chapter: Viva la Vida by Coldplay. :) I know it's probably nothing new, BUT I LOVE IT. And I love the feel of the lyrics, no matter how random they are. And how not funny Chris Martin was on the daily show. XD Except for whenever he pranced around stage. Maybe it's a European thing.

Anyhoot: come on guys. If you spent THAT long reading that big fat fatty of a chapter, I'm pretty sure you have time to review. :)