The Autumn ball was one of the many balls held every year to celebrate a successful harvest. While the Autumn festivities were occurring, the nobility and their esteemed guests gathered in the pavilion of the palace. Music played, people drank, and dancers danced the night away. If you were lucky or drunk enough, you could see the Fae slip in and out of the party.

The Fae loved a good party as well as any other supernatural beings. Witches, Fae, the occasional Mermaid and so many more frequented human parties.

Just last Midsummers Dance, the Queen of the Unseelie court graced the court of King Gavin.

Of course, Winter was forbidden to go and Cora had told her that she was not of age. The Fae were know to ensnare poor and  unsuspecting girls at balls.

Now Winter was eighteen and she was determined to go. Winter had been allowed to go to only one ball each year and that was the Spring ball, easy for her and her father because it was a masquerade ball. It was much easy to sneak into those.

The dress she was wearing was comfortable, it was a pale shade of purple and flowed as she moved. The material was soft, made from the finest of cotton and silk. The waist was embellished with beads in a leaf pattern. The long flowing sleeves were slightly off the shoulder, exposing her collar bone. A necklace was given to her by Cora, a small silver choker that glinted in the torchlight.

The trial of her skirt, glided over the steps of the tower. It was only a few inches, but it snagged on stray nails. Giving up she damned modesty and etiquette, she lifted the skirt up to her knees and gathered the rest in her arms.

Directly across from the tower door was a tapestry. Turn left and you would come across a hallway, go through it and you would find a tiny drawing room.

It had one entrance and two exits. The left one lead to a spiral staircase that would take winter directly to the ballroom and the right would take her through the gardens.

"Halt!" A voice called, "Are you the Princess Winter?"

"If it's my sister, no," she looked up. Only a Stags head was pinned to the wall. It's antlers tipped in gold and eyes replaced  with glass. She looked around to see no one. Winter was fairly sure that dead animals didn't speak.

"Then why is a wayward girl seeking me?" The voice asked, "Yes, you impertinent girl. Thine true form is different than this stags head."

What Winter saw was a stag, it's head moving and it's ears staining to stay still. His antler were now plated with gold and sharp. Once so majestic, he was now a piece of furniture.

"Peculiar," she muttered to herself. That ball could wait, she wanted to hear this. "If you don't mind telling me, how exactly are you up there?" She asked.

"Thee has a father, though a fair ruler, an imbecile in everything else," the stag said so harshly. "Thy sister is born in hell and despises you immensely. I was a gift to that basilisk of sister of yours, and I have sat here for eighteen years waiting for the person who I was suppose to be gifted to."

"Why would father want to give me a stag? Isn't that strange for a gift?"

The stag shook it's head and looked down at Winter, his cold eyes reflecting nothing but wariness. "I'm not really stag , I'm a spirit of the forest who was killed while in this form. My dear, I am eternal and I am weak."

"Who wouldn't be, you've been separated from you body."

Winters neck started to hurt at this point from looking up. She hoped nobody saw her talk to a stag!

"Oh well, the only way I can be free is if the one who I was bestowed upon releases me. Unfortunate that it wasn't you, it was Morgan. That b-"

"I could try to get her to release you, Mr. Stag."

"Impossible," he sighed. He hung his head in shame and anger.

Winter felt pity for him, she pulled up and climbed up on tip of it. Standing on her tip toes, she scratched the spot behind his ears causing them to stand up.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Stag. If you can, at least tell me your name."

"My original name is too hard to pronounce so you may call me as you wish," he nudged her hand, "do you scratching a little bit to the left-ah. Yes. That's the spot. Thank you. It'd been bothering me for a good eighteen years."

"Why didn't you talk to me before?" She asked.

"I was waiting. Ever heard of a grand entrance?" Winter rolled her eyes, "Do that all you want, Princess. I have a special message."

"Go on, then."

"Very well," Mr. Stag said. "Beware the witches spawn and look for the curly haired boy, thy life changes at dawn and in comes the witches ploy," he looked down at her, "That is all for you may proceed to the ball."

"You're secretly a rhyming nut aren't you?"

"Oh, yes but I don't see what's the fuss. After all, I'm one of the very few people to trust," he said.

Winter giggled and stepped down from the stool. "Thank you, Mr. Stag. Will I get to talk to you again?" She asked him.

"Time will tell but for now, farewell." Mr. Stag suddenly went still, his eyes glassy and his ears unmoving.

"Odd," she whispered to herself as she went to the ball, never looking back at the silent Stags head.

Winter bit her lip as she stared at the party below her. She couldn't help but feel an uneasy feeling as she walked up to the Royal Announcer.

"Excuse me, milady." He stopped her before she descended the stairs, "May I ask your name?"

"W-winter, sir," she straitened up and looked at him in his eyes, "I am Princess Winter."

His eyes nearly bulged out of his sockets as he looked at her. It was hard to believe at first but how could anyone argue with the uncanniness.

"Of course," he gestured towards the stairs, "Your majesty."

"You don't have to announce-"

It was too late. He slammed his staff onto the floor twice the "Introducing her royal highness, Second Crown Princess Winter!"

And then the room went from party to hushed tones as Winter descended the stairs.

'Don't fall. Don't fall. Please don't trip over the dress,' she kept thinking to herself.

She clutched her skirt and looked forward, trying to avoid the cruel and judgmental stares of the patrons. She couldn't fight an embarrassed blush that worked its way to her cheeks as she stepped into the crowd.

"Well!" Winter jumped at the sound of a high pitched voice, "I see that you wore my dress after all." Winter turned around to be faced with Duchess Martha and her esteemed husband, Duke Arnold. Stuttering out a hello, she curtsied to them.

Duchess Martha looked divine in her red dress that showed off cleavage that would be deemed scandalous had it not been for the lace. Her skirt was poofy and gauzy but beautiful, it was beaded with pearls that ran down in a spiral pattern. Her jewelry was simple, only some ruby studs and a red choker with a black rose pendent.

"It's good to see you again, my dear," Duke Arnold took her hand and patted it. He wore a red vest to match his wife. "You've grown. Last we ever saw of you was when you were just a little sprout."

"Thank you, my lord," Winter said, nodding her head in his direction.

"No need for formalities!" Duchess Martha laughed as she tucked a stray strand of straw colore hair. "You can call us Auntie Martha and Uncle Arnold," she said as she hugged Winter, her red dress enveloping her lilac skirt.

Winter felt very uncomfortable, very fast. She did know Duchess Martha but as nothing else. This sudden display of affection made her a tad but suspicious. The only ones who showed her affection was Cora.

"Yes," she said patting 'Auntie' Martha on the back.

"Come along, child. I have people I want you to meet and fellows to show you off to!" She grabbed Winters hand, dragging her off to her gaggle of women. "You just simply meet everyone. They're dying to meet the. Second Crown Princess."

This was so odd and rushed and not at all what she expected. The mounts of people around her made her uncomfortable, being in a village was one thing. There was space but here was nothing more than bodies heavily intoxicated by wine.

"Hello, darlings!" Martha said as she neared the group of women.

"Is this her, then?" One of the women asked, she wore a stylish and high necked yellow dress that contrasted with her sparkly hair. She waved a fan to cool herself down from the dancing, "It's good to finally see her."

This women also wore a red choker with a black rose pendent. Matter in fact, all the women wore the exact same choker. Another women even had her dress to correspond with the choker.

"May I introduce," she pointed at the ones in yellow and red, "Countess Darien and Lady Claire,"

"A pleasure," Lady Claire purred as she curtsied so smoothly.

"May I ask about those chokers?"

"A little society of ours, My dear," Claire said, "Particularly one that supports you."

"Are you talking about a faction?" Winter asked.

"Your faction," Martha said with a flourish of her hand, "Don't you hear it? The whispers? Your father might be a fool for Princess Morgan but he does love to irk her."

And then Winter listened carefully. She could hear the hushed whispered and see the apprehensive stares of everyone in the ballroom.

Morgan glanced at her, dancing with some man, her glare burning through Winters soul.

The panicking feeling slowly came back and Winter backed away from the crowd and towards the doors. The music, the whispers, the stares. All of it was so constricting and maddening. Winter had to leave before breaking down

"Where are you going, dear?" Duchess Martha asked

"I....I....," Winter swallowed, "Excuse me!" She said quickly before turning on her heels and running. She didn't even stop even if her tears were already falling.