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November

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It was all suffused in a bright golden light, with gilt arches reaching up towards a domed glass ceiling, from which floating silver-white snowflakes hung.

It was the Winter Ball, and a rousing symphony orchestrated the movements of a hundred couples of black and rainbow attire as they spun around the ballroom.

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Rhett was bored. Even though just one of the oversized china pots that he was sitting next to would buy half of his family's basic needs for a year, once the initial sense of awe had passed, there wasn't much to do besides watch the dancers, and learn how to blend in with the décor.

You couldn't dance or talk to another couple without a partner, and a partner was exactly what Rhett lacked. Which was why he'd been sitting at the edge of the enormous room for the last hour or so, perched on a tasteful but uncomfortably shaped chair, and feeling rather lonesome.

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He was yearning for a cool drink too - but not the wine that seemed to tempt him at every corner. It looked deceptively thirst quenching, but he knew from experience that it would only serve to increase his thirst. He stood up. He was going to have another go at finding some water.

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Halfway across the room, a pair of recently opened glass doors let in a welcome rush of bracing winter's air. The breeze whispered to him of cold freshwater springs, and he felt himself being drawn through the open doors.

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Outside, it was just as refreshing as he had imagined it would be. He walked around aimlessly, just breathing in the night. His thirst was already starting to dissipate.

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Without consciously realising where he was going, he started following an obscure track which led off the main path, and was surprised to find that after a while, it opened out into a white stone courtyard. There was a neat circle of shrubs ahead, and as he approached it, he thought he could hear the sound of trickling water. A fountain.

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His thirst reawakened by the promise of cool liquid, he'd moved quickly through the circle of bushes and brought an ice-cold mouthful of water to his lips before noticing the figure sitting on the opposite edge of the fountain. She was looking at him with serious eyes, her hands in the act of plaiting the last pink bud through her long, light-brown hair.

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He opened his mouth to say something, looked at her again, and forgot what he was going to say. He could only think of how beautiful she was.

Unlike the other ladies inside, her face wasn't smothered beyond recognition with makeup. Her dress wasn't heavy with layers of golden lace upon golden gauze upon golden embroidery, or painfully overhung with light-reflecting jewels.

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No.

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This girl was wearing only one flowing white gown, which seemed to soak in the moonlight, and radiate it softly from amongst the folds. Around her shoulders was a light and pretty white stole, and part of her hair was done up in a complicated series of twists, leaving the rest of it cascading down in a sheet of tresses which left Rhett aching to run his fingers through.

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She laughed at his stunned expression.

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"Do you want one too?" she asked, chucking a flower into his open mouth. She missed, but it made him snap his mouth closed hastily, blushing at his lack of manners.

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"It's terribly crowded inside isn't it? I snuck out first chance I had."

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"Oh. Uh, yeah - I was looking for a drink." he informed her unintelligently, mesmerised by the skilful winding of hair around the bud to secure it in place, and the way her face scrunched up in concentration.

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She finished that one and plucked another flower. The circlet of blooms was almost finished.

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"You must have been incredibly thirsty - you looked so satisfied after you drank from my fountain." She grinned at him.

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"Actually, it's a blessed fountain – did you know? Everyone who drinks from it will live a long and happy life."

He stared at the fountain with a new sense of respect.

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"Really?" He asked incredulously. "You wouldn't know by looking at it."

She laughed again suddenly, clapping a hand to her mouth a moment too late, to try and hide it. "No, silly! I just made that up!"

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He looked up at her, frowning slightly, and turning a bit red.

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"That's not funny," he said, angry with himself for being so gullible.

"You're right. It's not. I'm sorry for tricking you," she said solemnly.

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"I'm right? It isn't? You're sorry?" he repeated, suspiciously.

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She laughed again. "Yes, I'm sorry. Is it so hard to believe? Why, you hardly know me, and yet you are already so eager to believe wrong of me?"

She broke off, fixing the last pink blossom in place.

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"Well," she said, standing up. "You can take me inside anyway. I get the feeling that it won't be as boring if I'm with you." She offered her elbow.

Hesitantly, he hooked his arm around hers and quick-marched, dragging her through the circle of bushes. He would have taken her all the way into the palace in the same fashion, if she hadn't nudged him in the side and shown him how to properly escort a lady.

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He was cute, in a lost kind of way. Well, at least that's what Elaine thought. She'd been startled when he'd stumbled through the circle of greenery, but when she realised that he was no threat, she'd sat there silently, content to watch him drink. She felt that she should have been angry that someone had discovered her secret courtyard, but from the start, he'd been impossibly endearing. At any rate, talking with him had helped take her mind off what was to happen the next day.

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The queen was bored, and so was the king. In fact, the king was sleeping, even while he sat upright on the throne. The queen had grown tired of poking him in the side to keep him awake, and anyway, she herself wanted to retire to her royal bedchamber upstairs and sleep.

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Another moment, and she knew she'd be joining her husband in the Land of Nod. She shook herself reluctantly, and was about to stand up and join the dance, when she espied her daughter walking in from the gardens, accompanied by an attractive, dark-haired youth.

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She waved an attendant forward and whispered to him, "Maximus, can you find the Prince and point his attention to my daughter, Elaine?"

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She watched the attendant dart into the dancing crowd, noting with satisfaction the Prince promptly making his way through the room towards Elaine and partner.

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Elaine saw him first, moving across the room, his face turning an unpleasant blotchy red colour. She could almost see the fumes of metaphorical smoke pouring out of his ears.
She tugged on Rhett's sleeve.

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"Now might not be the best time to tell you, but I've been promised to the Prince of the Southern Lands, who's a pompous, ugly twit, but he's built like an ox, and he's headed for us, so please, please, get out of his way."

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She pushed him away gently and pointed her chin up to meet the Prince in the eye. He strode up to her, and nodding curtly, the flush fading slightly when he noticed she was by herself, he offered his arm. He moved off to the dance floor, only to double back when he was halfway there, when he realised the Princess wasn't by his side.

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His face now resembled the insides of a tomato. He bowed to her, and grabbing her arm, began towing her across the ballroom floor. Rhett was shocked to see her being treated in such a fashion, and stepped forward. He stood in the way and shoved the Prince backwards, almost causing him to flatten Elaine. She escaped from his grasp hurriedly and ran to Rhett.

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"Didn't you hear a word of what I said? He'll crush you! I know it's hard to believe, but it's not all fat - he works out for hours in his palace," she hissed at him.

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"Don't worry," he whispered back, "He won't dare fight with so many people around. Anyway, you're betrothed to this guy?" The princess shrugged, sighing.

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The Prince had recovered his balance, and was now walking slowly and meanly towards Rhett. "Just who do you," he jabbed him in the chest, "think you are?"

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"Well, I may not be anybody, but at least I know that you don't treat ladies in the way you just did."

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"Too right - you're nobody," spat the Prince, ignoring the rest of the sentence, "And I'm the Prince of the Southern Lands, so you keep out of my way, low-life. I'll have you know that the Princess is spoken for."

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Rhett turned to stare at Elaine. Princess? But - but then… where was the crown?
As if reading his mind, Elaine turned to stare at him, and said, "Yes, well. I kind of lost the crown. That's why I'm wearing flowers instead," she whirled a finger at her head anxiously. "You're still my friend right? This doesn't change anything, right?"

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He stared at his feet. Princess. He hadn't known - hadn't even guessed when she'd said she was engaged to a Prince. It did change everything. A lot. He was barely a noble - only the nephew of a lord. And his family certainly weren't wealthy enough for him to even be seen talking to the Princess.

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But he couldn't tell her that. Not here, in a social dance, in front of the Prince of the Southern Lands. She was still looking at him, waiting for an answer. When none was forthcoming, she stamped a foot angrily and pivoted, running away from both Rhett and the surprised and confused Prince.

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The queen woke suddenly to a rush of wind and fabric as Elaine rushed past her, up the smaller flight of stairs leading to the rest of the palace. She shook her head groggily, trying to clear her mind and understand what was happening. As clarity hit her, she started to give chase.

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