– M A K A Y L A –

"Miss Xavier, please!" My maid begged me as she held two hideously pompous ball dresses in front of me.

I rolled my eyes. "Matty, I don't care how you phrase it. I'm not going." I stated as I continued to sketch out the city landscape on my pad of paper.

"Your father demanded that I present you to the foreign secretary in style tonight." She stressed as she darted her eyes frantically between each atrocious garment.

"Then why are you holding those in front of me?" I stated in boredom without taking my eyes off the pad.

She huffed in response. "These were designed by Sir Pierre de Martino!"

"So why doesn't he wear it then." I muttered as I rolled off the bed and walked past her for the door.

"Miss Xavier..." Matty began in such a desperate voice that I actually felt bad. I didn't want Matty to be punished for my refusal to bend to my father's will. "If you would at least find a suitable dress on your own that you would wear tonight..." She ventured, looking at me with those pleading chocolate eyes.

Her brown hair was always impeccably arranged on top of her head in a bun and her white uniform was buttoned to the top without fail.

So I groaned before turning to my bedroom door and opening it. "Fine." I muttered as I stepped over the threshold.

"Thank you Miss—" I didn't hear the rest as I slammed the door behind me.

A ball was the last thing I needed right now. It was ridiculous. The events that my father came up with to maintain relations with other countries as emperor was ludicrous. Not to mention morbidly over the top.

I stormed down the luxurious modern hallways in a sour mood.

The staff and guards dropped me bows as I walked. It was so irritating. I'd rather they ignored me entirely and just went about their day. The sun pierced through the glass on the left side that lined the wall of the corridor. It was a stunning view. One that I frequently recreated on a sketchpad. Art was the best distraction I had from my father's nonsense.

The day was still young and I had every intention of using the freedom I had to stroll the city streets in search of an acceptable ball gown.

A guard had an elevator ready for me before I had even rounded the curved hallway. My penthouse was on the 205th floor. The clouds often obscured the rest of the city, so I could only admire a blanket of white with the most wealthy sky towers in view. Honestly, I think we were located this high just so my father didn't have to view what he called 'the disease' of the city. Which was practically everything outside of Sector 10.

The ride down was short and swift.

I exited into the grand lobby of our sky tower. Yes. The emperor personally owned all 250 floors. Maximum security on every level and identity scans every 5 feet.

I rolled my eyes as twenty guards stood to attention and swept protectively in formation around me. Apparently Matty had already notified them that I would be shopping today...

They had matching black uniform with underlying hints of silver that all imperial guards wore. All weapons were concealed and each and every one of them would lay their lives down without even blinking.

Psychopaths.

I knew the drill. So I walked over to where the fusion craft awaited. It hovered soundlessly on the other side of the main entrance along with four other heavily armoured guard crafts.

I got in without a word and lounged in the smooth leather interior. I declined the drinks offered to me by the service maid inside. Instead of bothering with small talk I just gazed out the tinted window.

Beyond the confines of my craft, the world went on.

The sky was alive with fusion crafts flying between buildings in formation and crowds of upper class pedestrians flooding the luxury streets of Sector 1. I had never even been outside of Sector 10. Father considered it dangerous even though he never divulged what danger it was.

But my curiosity always ran away with me. I had a knack for giving my guards and staff headaches because of my frequent rebellions... But there were only so many glass walls you could stare at for over twenty three years, only so many meaningless social events, etiquette lessons in international policy.

It was hardly my fault that I was bored into oblivion doing the same things on repeat.

It was the exact reason I was not going to do it today. It was why when we started our ascent into the city I had a plan forming in my head about just how different this day would be. Because I wasn't going to pass the same, stuck up designer stores for the same ridiculous dresses.

I was going to get out of this Sector entirely and see what lay beyond Sector 10...