Reynard was awoken by the sound of the front door opening. Could Rosa be going out again?

Slowly, he pushed himself off his bed and made his way to the living room. Nobody there. He was about to go check if his mother was awake when the dreaded reality hit him in the face. His mother was dead. He covered his face with his eyes and tried to keep in his tears. Successful, he moved towards the kitchen as he smelled food, but stopped midway when he saw a faint figure of a man from the corners of his eyes.

Was it the kidnapper from last night? "Who's there!?" he yelled as he swerved to his right...and came face to face with his father. "F-Father, what are you doing here?"

His father- Simon Gradral- side man to the Emperor and commander to one of the highest ranking squadrons of the Imperial Knights, was in tears. In tears over his dead wife.

"I'm sorry, son," he croaked out, his face crumpled. "I'm sorry I wasn't here for my family in these miserable times. With Amice, with Rosa, with you… Forgive me, forgive me…." He collapsed on the floor as his legs gave way.

Reynard stood as he looked down on his father who was still dressed in the knights' uniform, his sword hanging by his side. Such an apology...was it acceptable?

"Get up, father," Reynard muttered as he pulled him by the arm. "Let's prepare for the funeral. Mother wouldn't have liked all of us mourning her in such states; she'd want us to be happy."

Simon nodded as he hugged his son and held him there for a few minutes before letting go. Rosa emerged from the kitchen, and upon seeing her father return home, she ran into his arms.

"When did you arrive?" she cried as she held onto her father. "Mother, she-"

"I know," Simon responded as he soothingly patted his daughter's head. "I know, love. I know. I'm so sorry I wasn't here for you and everybody else. I'm so sorry, love."

Rosa detached herself from her father and gazed lovingly into his eyes. "As long as we still have each other… Right! I'm setting the table. Let's have breakfast."

✿

[Back at what once was Ogden Cove]

The rain had let up after last night, but it still felt very wet. I don't know how to describe this feeling, but there was humidity in the air and I wasn't liking the feeling of my clothes clinging to my skin.

I gazed out the window in my room, looking longingly at the grey clouds in the sky. It felt like a sad day, as if something terrible had happened? Were the clouds an omen? Or was it just the fact that the princess's- my- funeral had been just last night? It still felt so unreal.

Now that I think about it, how had they carried out the whole ceremony with the absence of the body? It must have been so eerie, and some wouldn't have even known the dead they were mourning. I shivered at the very thought.

I looked out again and saw a carriage coming down the street. It wasn't like the normal carriage Reynard and I had come travelling in a few weeks ago. This carriage seemed more similar to the one I had travelled in when I visited Fleur's Garments. Was it a royal carriage, perhaps? What was it doing in this neighborhood? Oh God, had the guards finally connected the pieces? Were they coming for me???

Hastily, I backed away from the window in case I got seen. Oh no! I should probably hide. I crawled up under my bed and waited till I was sure the carriage had either passed or someone had come over to visit. It felt like a long time, huddled up under the bed, all sweaty and stupid.

"What am I doing?" I snarled at myself as I got out and dusted myself off. "Why am I acting so foolish?"

That's when the door opened and Sven peeked in.

"Um, there's someone for you at the door."

My eyes widened. "For me?" I hissed. "Who is it and what did they say?"

He shrugged. "It's some rich blonde guy. Asks if there's a young lady at home. Apparently, he's giving every single young lady in town an invitation to attend a fancy ball. To find his bride, he says."

It felt like I was about to faint.

"A bride?" I exclaimed, horrified. "Why is he going the whole way? Is he a fan of the movie Cinderella or something? Show off."

Sven looked confused. "Movie? Cindell? What are you talking about?"

I scoffed. "You haven't watched Cinderella?" I asked incredulously. "Have you been living under a rock?"

"Um… is this Cindell like a theatre performance?"

I blinked for a while. Then it hit me: Cinderella hasn't even been invented yet! What was I doing, squabbling with a guy from the medieval times...

"Never you mind," I mumbled. "Tell this guy at the door that there's no girl living here."

He shook his head. "Yes, I told him. But he said he saw someone looking through the window who looked very much like a girl. I had to give in, or else I'd have seemed a liar."

Rats, I thought. I should have backed up sooner. And why was this fancy shmancy guy even holding a ball in a time of mourning? Had he no conscience? Someone- and not just someone, a princess!- had a funeral yesterday!

"Tell him I don't want the invitation," I said, crossing my arms.

Sven made a face. "That's rude. Can't you just take the invitation and then not go? Nobody said it was essential to attend."

"Can't you just take it in my stead?"

He shook his head. "I did offer that, but he turned it down, saying that it would be much better to give it in person. That's some persistent guy."

I sighed. Oh, the things I had to do for a normal life. "Fine. Let's get this over with."

I walked past Sven and skipped downstairs, reassured since he kept in tow to me.

"Keep a low profile," he whispered to me as we reached the door. "Don't let them get a good look at your face."

I nodded and took a deep breath. Then I turned the knob and pulled open the door.

There, before me, stood a very familiar guy. With hair as golden as the bright sun, and eyes a similar color, I dare say he was radiant. His face gleamed when he acknowledged me.

"Good day, m'lady!" he beamed. I looked behind him, and lowered my gaze after catching a glimpse of the two intimidating guards behind his back. Both of them donned not the color of the palace guard uniforms, but a sky blue with a golden emblem on the chest. "My name is Parr Huxley, or Marquess Huxley, if you please. Eldest son of Duke Lucan Huxley of Notdale, Lands of Sovia." Then he paused mid-introduction, frowning. "Have we met before? You look awfully familiar."

I looked at my feet, hoping my face wasn't visible. "Um, I think not. I've never met someone named as yourself-" But then I, too, stopped short. Huxley. Marquess Huxley. That title did indeed ring a bell, but I couldn't point out where I heard it from.

"Are you sure?" Marquess Huxley asked, bending down a bit to catch a glimpse of my face, but I recoiled instantly. "You do indeed look like a familiar acquaintance, although I can't exactly remember… Anyways, if you are still unbetrothed, I'd be most grateful if you could accept this ball invitation I'm so happily extending. I am aware, though, of the sorrowful times these are, but I must get married in a few weeks' time. I'd be most grateful if you show up."

"Ah..." I hesitated to take the blue envelope from his outstretched arms. "Ah, yes, of course." I took it gently from his hands and smiled, wanting to get this over with. "Thank you."

He nodded, his golden curls bouncing on his head. "You're very welcome. I'll await your presence, and please don't think I'll forget absent faces, especially not yours, since you look very familiar. I've an excellent memory!"

I laughed awkwardly and peeked over my shoulder at Sven, who was standing near the stairs and shrugged. I turned back and took a deep breath, not wanting to draw out this meeting. "Yes, of course."

"Parr!" A loud man's voice bellowed from the carriage, though his face remained hidden by a curtain in the window. "What's taking so long?"

"Just a moment, father!" Marquess Huxley called out to the carriage, and then turned back to me. "Do you promise to attend?"

"Huh?" I inched back. "Um..." The way he looked at me with such large, gleaming eyes made me render speechless. I couldn't think of anything except getting away from there. "Yes, I promise to attend," I blabbered in my haste and uncomfort.

"Good." He seemed satisfied. "I've still a handful of invitations to hand out, so I'll be seeing you soon. Have a good day, m'lady."

"Ah, yes, good day." Get out, get out, get out. He finally turned his back to me and I hastily closed and padlocked the door. "Good god, I thought he'd never leave."

Sven came to my assistance. "Yes, that was close. It was weird how chatty he was. And to a stranger, no less."

"Haha," I laughed awkwardly. But something didn't seem right. His name and appearance... I couldn't be sure that he was an absolute stranger. Where had I seen him? And then the memory returned. I danced with him that day! Ah, now I remembered. It was the same guy I danced with at my Coming-of-Age ceremony. How had I forgotten? Even then, he had seemed quite interested in me.

I felt like I had just dodged a bullet. My heart even raced at the thought. I can't fathom what would've happened if he had recognized me. But he seemed like a nice guy, so would he have let it go…? No, no, I can't reveal my secret to any more people, it was much too dangerous as it is. I glanced at Sven who was looking sheepishly at the invitation.

"Are you gonna open it?" he asked.

I shrugged and unfolded the clean-cut flap. "Might as well."

Slowly, I pulled out the hard, card-stock invite and chuckled at the overly done italics. Then I started to read…