The moon cast a light through the barred window revealing a dark and dank cell to the prisoner within. Evanna leaned her head against the wall, one arm resting on her bent knees, the other gripping onto her necklace like it was her lifeline. Her eyes were closed as she tried to stay calm about her situation.

But the princess was consumed with the racing thoughts in her mind about her friends. Did they manage to lose the elves? Axel had been shot; was he okay? Was Cilv okay? Evanna had not seen her since she threw her knives back at her. Were all of them okay? Was Ger angry with her? And was the gem safe?

On and on the list went with the worries forming a knot in her gut. If she was not leaning against the cool wall, she was sure her churning stomach would lead to her being sick. Out of all the scenarios she predicted the night before, this never came to her mind.

Death, it seemed, was more of a welcome than being a prisoner to the Flori. Evanna was facing the reality that she would be tortured for the part she played in stealing from them. Stealing a gem, most believed to be a myth.

Yet, no matter how much they would torture her, she would not give them the information they needed. Her mother's life was relying on her and her friends to deliver it to her. Unfortunately, there was one issue.

Evanna had the scroll with all the information about the gem, including how to activate it to heal. She closed her eyes, pained by that realisation; she could only hope that her mother had read it beforehand.

Her thoughts then turned to who the white-haired elf was with the minutes ticking away.

Arawn.

Prince Arawn of Direwood Forest, the Florian prince, most commonly known as the cold-hearted prince, son to a cold-hearted ruler. Now that Evanna had been left on her own to do nothing but sit and think, she remembered the conversation the servants had in his bed chambers. But what she couldn't understand was why the woodland prince was in Kuramji the first time she met him. It was against the accords...

Hours had gone by without a peep from anyone; Evanna knew it had been hours because the small lighting provided by the moon slanted from its position in the sky. She only wished her watch was allowed to stay on her, but maybe it was a good thing she did not have it; she could quite possibly go mad. Evanna pulled her cloak closer towards her, sheltering her from the draft that swept through the window and the hallway that led to her cell.

Evanna couldn't help but find her mind wandering, jumping to and from scenes over the past weeks since she left the palace. Had it only been weeks? It felt as though a year had gone by; her companions became her family, the open road her home. Evanna shook her head, she was a princess, and if she had not been captured, then her home would once again be her palace or most likely her future husband's home.

The sound of footsteps brought her attention back to the present. Evanna shunned herself for sitting in a pity party; she should have been figuring out what her following actions and words would be. She was unsure if they knew yet about them stealing such an item from them or if the elves assumptions were of a much bigger crime. For now, all Evanna was sure of was to keep her identity a secret.

Looking up from her position, she saw two elves standing behind the iron clad bars that separated her from them. She glanced at a white-haired elf, whose hair was as long as her own, in perfectly straight strands. He stood directly across from her, whose silver eyes glared at her, standing slightly shorter next to the elf she had already been thinking about: Arawn. His eyes were cold and sharp, his full lips set into a thin line as he assessed her.

The new white-haired elf crossed his arms slowly, diverting Evanna's attention away from the prince.

"Arawn, do all humans lack social etiquette?" His voice rang out in disdain.

Prince Arawn shook his head, "No, your highness."

Evanna stopped her mouth parting from shock. Your highness?!

"Then why does it sit in the corner staring and not talking. Is it mute? Did you have your tongue ripped from your mouth, girl? If not, I am sure I can make some arrangements."

Evanna glanced between the king and prince. They looked more like brothers, not father and son! The elf's lifespan was vast compared to that of a human's, and that was evident from the sight of them standing before her. Evanna blinked and clumsily pushed herself away from the floor so she could stand.

Her eyes swept back up to the king, who now had a crown placed upon his head. An extraordinary crown of golden bands weaved around each other in a pattern around his temple before jutting up into sharp points at the back of his head. Almost looking like large thorns. A crown that was not there earlier. She forced herself not to dwell on such things, his agitation was apparent, and she had not yet responded to the king,

"No, I am not mute. Your highness."

The king motioned a guard forward, who brought the keys to unlock the door. The king briskly walked into the cell, looking the girl up and down. Before Arawn even took a step into the room, his father had slapped Evanna across the face, the sound echoing, leaving a red mark with slight indentations from the rings on his fingers that had touched her face. With her head moving back to face him, fists curled at her sides, she instead changed her mind and looked at the floor.

"That is for stealing from me," The king pointed his finger towards Evanna's face before turning his back on her and walking towards Arawn, "Though I am sure prince Arawn will punish you accordingly, seeing as it was HIS prized possession from which you took."

The king turned back around and stared down at her for a long time before breaking the silence, "*You look vaguely familiar..*" He muttered, then sneered, "How old are you, little girl?"

"You know, asking a woman her age is considered rude," Evanna replied drily before looking at the king in shock at her own response.

He raised his brow at her and tilted his head slightly before scoffing.

"Too young and naïve to know when not to speak in such a way. In particularly, when speaking to someone much more superior than you, peasant." He spat the last word before continuing, "Or when you are in a much more vulnerable position."

Evanna frowned at his words, blinking back at him before glancing at her weapons on the table outside of her cell. She flickered her eyes back at his before lowering them. He tsked at her before turning sharply on his heel and left the raven-haired beauty inside the ugly cell room with the prince. Garrett appeared in the entryway, his giant form making the room seem that much smaller.

So the torture begins..

Arawn walked silently around the small room, his hands clasped behind his back, watching her out of the corner of his eye. Her emerald-green eyes held no tears in them as she watched him, her lips pursed together tight, almost as though she was holding herself back from acting out.

His assessment of her body language made him presume that she was not used to such treatment. Which made him wonder how long she had been out on the road for; it was tangible that she was capable of taking care of herself. But he dismissed where his thoughts were going. He needed answers.

The prince approached her, his stride long, purposeful as his imposing form grew taller the closer he came to her. Evanna backed away from him, each step tentative as their gazes locked, green meeting fiery blue. His eyes burned into her while the room became increasingly cold. Each breath she took became short, clouding out in small puffs before her. It was as though the frosty atmosphere was emanating from his being.

Her back hit the wall, and she knew there was nowhere else to go. She was stuck with Arawn and his penetrating gaze. He stopped with a few inches between them and spoke in a low voice that sent a shockwave of icicles through her body, "You stole from us."

His voice alone felt like a death sentence. Evanna looked away, resting her cheek on the wall as she closed her eyes; she did not know why she was still alive. But from the tension building in the room, she knew her time was coming to an end. Her eyes snapped open when she felt her chin grabbed roughly and brought to face his devastatingly handsome features, "You stole FROM ME." His voice resounded in the room, making her flinch.

Evanna's lips parted by their close proximity and the feeling of his cold fingers shooting a burning coolness across her skin. She met his intense gaze and lifted her chin slightly, forcing herself not to fear him, she did not in the woods, and she would not now.

"Yes. I stole from you," Evanna whispered. Arawn removed his hand from her chin as though her skin was a fire and he just got burnt.

He inhaled sharply, the only sign of emotion showing a form of.. what, agitation? Evanna could not tell; she did not know him and did not want to figure out such minuscule details. Would they help her in this situation? It would seem not. His face was impassive as the marble statues artists created, hard to read. Arawn took a step back, but not far enough to make Evanna comfortable.

"Why did you come all this way.. to steal a single gem?" He asked calmly. Evanna was beginning to think his calmness was just as dangerous as if he was shaking with anger and shouting to the rooftops. She could see he had a job to do; he could have let Garrett do the interrogation, but the king said it was his possession, something he held dear.

Her heart began to pound painfully against her chest, and just as she parted her lips to speak, he interrupted her, "DO NOT lie to me. I can already tell." He scrutinised her face, "There were countless jewels, gold, all forms of riches in the treasury, and yet you took nothing else. You even left your comrades and purposely searched through my bed-chamber. Which was a huge risk.."

Evanna gulped, an action his eyes immediately picked up on. He was too sharp and perceptive, a dangerous man indeed. If she had to lie, which she clearly had to, her body language and face needed to stay as neutral as possible. To do that, she would need to provide half-truths and keep her words short.

"We did not need anything else," She uttered.

Arawn burst out laughing, his head tilted back like her response was the funniest thing in the world. Evanna's eyes widened at his display.

"* The greed of man is infinite. His thirst is never quite quenched. For that, I do not believe you, *" He muttered in disgust. Evanna wanted to reply, 'I am not a man', but she could not and sealed her lips shut instead, feigning innocent to his words. Again, he scrutinised her face before asking in a softer tone, "What is your name?"

"Raven." A heavy silence engulfed them. His jaw ticked as he looked at her.

"...Just Raven, are you an orphan?" His baritone voice drawled on.

Evanna looked back at him, gauging his reaction, and noticed he had not reprimanded her once for accidentally removing his title in her responses.

"I am not, your highness," She replied, keeping her answers clipped without any further information. Arawn's eyes narrowed a fraction at her response.

"What happened to your face?"

Evanna blinked back at him and swiftly removed her gloves to touch her face; when her mind ran out of an answer, she asked, "What do you mean?"

He raised a finger and pressed it into the side of her head, causing her to grimace, "Did you not see the king hit me?"

She bit her lip immediately. If she kept speaking out of place, like a noble, then her death might be prolonged brutally. A flare of anger crossed his eyes, and he sighed in frustration, "He did not strike hard enough to cause bruises all over your face and split your lip."

"Oh," She forgot about how messed up her face must look, "this is from my time spent with the faceless," Evanna replied nonchalantly, though she could see his cold gaze flickering at each darkened patch on her face before resting on her eyes again.

"I see," He muttered pensively, glancing down at her hands and grabbing one of them. She gasped at the sudden contact and felt the tiny hairs on her arms raise as goosebumps kissed her skin. She held her breath as a shiver erupted through her body from where his thumb caressed her hand.

Evanna was at a loss for words. What was he doing?

His hand tightened its hold on hers as she began to pull away. He started to move her palm around and inspected her fingertips. Evanna looked back up to his sculpted face, roaming over his defined features, from his strong jawline, straight nose to his thick eyebrows, and finally resting on his piercing blue eyes. Which incidentally she was now staring into; her face heated with embarrassment at this strange turn of events.

"* Such ventures you have gone through for one gem… *" His voice interrupted her thoughts as he stared back at her, gauging her face. He dropped her hand and abruptly turned around, leaving the cell and slamming the door behind him.