1711, Aethiel Palace, Kestramore City

Have You Seen This Person?

The Marchioness of Avionne, Miriam Breckenridge had gone missing on 2nd August. She was last seen in the gardens of the Royal Palace. She was wearing a dark blue satin gown and a white scarf. She is of average height and plump, with olive skin and pale grey eyes. Any information regarding her whereabouts shall be heavily rewarded.

The Marquis of Avionne,

Archibald Breckenridge

          That was just one of the thousands, even millions of notices hung up all across the kingdom. On the piece of yellow parchment was the aforementioned text, as well as a portrait of the Marchioness's likeness. Each and every person in the palace was given a copy of the portrait and were told to keep an eye out for the Marchioness.

Catarina folded the parchment neatly and stuffed it into her pocket before heading towards the sobbing Cosmina, who was strewn all over her bed.

       No one knew where Miriam could have gone, and even Cosmina herself had thought that her mother must have gone out to the city. But she had not brought any of House Breckenridge's servants with her, which was very unlike her.

    "Mina," Catarina called out softly as she sat on the bed beside her friend. "I am certain that they will find her soon. I know that you are worried, but you mustn't disregard your own wellbeing like this."

Cosmina's sobs turned into quiet sniffles, and she said, "Catarina, I don't understand! She was mere feet away from me! How could've she gone missing?"

    "We will find her, Mina," she reassured. "But when she comes home, she wouldn't be happy to see you looking so famished like this. You must eat, Mina. Even a little bit."

Cosmina chuckled through her sobs, and she eventually nodded. "Alright, alright. I'll have something to eat."

    "That's more like it," Catarina said with a smile. She stood up and walked towards the door to tell the maid to bring over something to eat, but when she opened the door, instead of seeing Rosie or Marie, she came face to face with Ursula, Princess Demitria's maid.

    "Lady de Fontaine," she greeted. "Please tell Lady Breckenridge that the Princess wishes to see her now."

    "Of course," Catarina replied, and as soon as Ursula had left, she darted back into the room and told Cosmina.

Cosmina had been quite reluctant to leave the room, but she had no other choice but to comply. Within ten minutes, they found themselves standing before the Princess in her drawing room.

In the past, Princess Demitria always looked at them with scrutiny, but today, there was pity in the dark blue depths of her eyes.

    "Take a seat, both of you," she said, and the two girls hastily complied. "Lady Breckenridge, I am aware of the situation your family is currently experiencing. Hence, you are allowed to leave the ceremony whenever you please. I will not force you to stay here, when your heart is clearly hurting."

    "I appreciate your concern, Your Highness. But I would much prefer to remain here. My mother disappeared at the palace, and I am certain that if she were to show up anywhere, it would be here."

    "I understand, Lady Breckenridge. And of course, you may continue staying here. But if you were to ever change your mind, do tell me."

Cosmina stood up and bowed deeply. "Thank you, Your Highness. We shall take our leave now."

As she stood up, she dragged Catarina along with her, and the latter too hastily stood up and bowed.

    "Oh, and before you leave, there is something that I must tell you. Tomorrow, the seven of you must compete in a cooking competition. Tonight, pick out a recipe that you think the Prince would like, and tomorrow you must prepare it. I know, it sounds quite dull, but it is tradition. Although, I would rather much prefer a treasure hunt, which sounds much more fun..."

The Princess droned on and on, but her voice was eventually drowned out by Catarina's own thoughts.

       How could I compete in a cooking competition?

She only knew how to cook eggs, and they were not even palatable! While she wanted to impress the Prince with her 'heavenly' skills, she also wanted to outshine her mortal enemy, Marguerite le Prince. And clearly, her thirst for success outweighed her need to impress Julian.

    That night, when everyone was fast asleep, she put on her cloak and snuck out of the room, carrying nothing with her but an oil lamp. The door to the royal library was never locked, and she was able to enter with ease.

There was an enormous skylight window built into the roof, and during the daytime, the sun would brighten up the entire library. At nighttime, however, it was the moon that illuminated the way.

       The stars could be seen clearly through the window, twinkling beautifully in the dead of the night. Even though they disappeared as soon as daylight came, they dutifully returned each and every night, as if they were immortal.

With the oil lamp in hand, Catarina headed towards the shelves, unsure of where to begin. Luckily for her, the first book she put her hands on was a cookbook.

     Gasping in delight, she quickly flipped through the pages of Madame Mulberry's Mouthwatering Recipes. The book was split into several categories, which were Finger-licking Fish, Ambrosian Chicken, Delectable Deer, Moreish Beef, Magnificent Mutton, and finally, Excellent Eggs.

    "What is with these chapter names," Catarina muttered under her breath. "I wouldn't be surprised to see Vicious Venison and Obscene Ostrich."

She flipped over to the final chapter, Excellent Eggs, and there, she discovered hundreds, even thousands of recipes.

    "Scrambled eggs, boiled eggs, fried eggs, omelette, poached eggs, shirred eggs.." she mumbled. While they were simple dishes that she could probably make, people will most definitely make fun of her. After all, there had never been an occurrence where a person makes a boiled egg for a cooking competition. It simply never happened.

     Catarina searched for more challenging dishes, and there she found the recipes to make soufflé, egg drop soup, quiche, and devilled eggs. However, she decided that they were too difficult for her.

She resignedly shut the book, but she still carried it with her, just in case. Catarina lifted the oil lamp up high to light up the way, and eventually, she found herself in the same place where she found Patricia Marlborough's questionable book.

    "Well, I suppose I'll see if she has any other works. Her writing is so obscene, I wonder who the target audience is," Catarina sighed as she placed the oil lamp and Madame Mulberry's Mouthwatering Recipes on the floor.

Much to Catarina's surprise, the entire shelf in front of her was dedicated to Madame Marlborough's works, and all the books were very well maintained and neatly dusted.

    "Let's see what you've written this time," she murmured as she picked out one of the books, which was titled The Duke's Little Secret.

    "Your Grace, please don't!" I tried to scream, but my own desire failed me. A moan escaped my lips as the Duke's lips attached to my neck, sucking onto my skin.

My fingers raked across his back, begging him to stop, but I could no longer lie to myself, and he knew that. My back was to the wall, and before me was this strong, devilishly attractive man who desired for me. My wrists were pinned to the wall, and I was oddly aroused by how powerful his grip was.

    "Your Grace," I pleaded as he tore my nightgown apart with his bare teeth before discarding them on the floor, leaving me completely naked.

    "Can't you see that I'm mad for you, Winter?" he groaned as he released my wrist and slowly reached for my bare-

    "Oh good heavens!" Catarina exclaimed as she slammed the book down on the floor, breathing heavily and blushing furiously. However, her repulse only lasted for a short while.

Soon, Catarina found herself picking up the book and laying it on her lap. Then, she flipped to where she had left off.

The sensation of his hot, pulsating body against my own skin ran shivers down my spine, and I found myself clinging on to him, desperate for more.

    "I can't hold back anymore," he whispered in my ear, his husky voice deep and mellow, like a cup of black coffee. "My body yearns for you, Winter."

I feel myself being lifted in his arms, and the next thing I knew, I was laying on the Duke's bed. The man himself was looming over me, his hands pressed on the mattress right above my head, essentially creating a cage around me.

His steely blue eyes glinted with thirst and desire, as if he were a starving lion and I was a lamb. And then, I watched as he unravelled his clothes, revealing his-

    "What are you reading?" a familiar voice rang from behind her.

In a moment of panic, Catarina let out a scream as she quickly shoved the sinful book away, pretending to be shocked by the Prince's sudden presence.

    "Lady de Fontaine, do not be afraid. It is just me," Julian said, lifting up the oil lamp to illuminate his face, and Catarina immediately feigned relief.

    "Your Highness," she gasped. "I didn't think that I would be seeing you here. I thought that it had been the library ghost!"

Julian gulped. "The library ghost?"

    "Yes, the library ghost! Have you ever heard of it before?"

    "No, not at all. Please, enlighten me."

Catarina smirked as she sat cross legged on the floor, and gestured to Julian to do the same.

    "Legend has it that fifty years ago, there was a scribe working in this very library. He was a very hardworking man, and he would copy texts from dawn to midnight. As the legend goes, one night, he was copying the texts as usual.

The library was quiet, but it did not bother him as he was used to being alone. But tonight, he has a companion."

Catarina noted that Julian's face had become ghostly pale, but she was not done yet.

    "At the stroke of midnight, a scribe who he had never seen before walked into the library. He noted that the other scribe's face was unnaturally pale, almost bluish, but he did not question it.

Then, the other scribe said, "Do you have a quill that I can borrow?'

Annoyed, he reached for his satchel, which he kept under the table. As he leaned down, however, he saw that the other scribe had no feet. Now, he realised that the other scribe is a ghost!"

At that exact moment, the bell was tolled, signalling that it was now midnight.

    "Do you want me to continue?" Catarina asked, and the now-shivering Julian hastily shook his head.

    "No, I've heard enough," he stammered. "We should head back now."

Catarina nodded and stood up, but not before kicking the copy of The Duke's Little Secret away until it became lodged under one of the shelves.

As they made their way to the door, oil lamps in hand, the faintest sound of a book falling down on the floor could be heard, and while it did not shock her much, it did indeed shock Julian.

    "Ghost!" he exclaimed in horror as he reached for the closest thing he could grab on, which happened to be Catarina herself.

He had unwittingly pulled her into a tight embrace, almost crushing her. He could smell the scent of jasmine perfume on her clothes, hear the faintest beats of her heart, and feel her body against his. It just felt right.

    After the shock wore off, Catarina found herself nestled warmly in the Prince's arms, and she made no move to resist. She felt so safe, so comfortable here.

But then, she thought of what would happen if they were to be caught in such a compromising position. She lifted her hand and pressed it against his chest, creating a gap between them. "We should leave, now."

Catarina lowered her gaze, not wanting to see the expression on the Prince's face, and she did not even wait to hear his response before storming off, Madame Mulberry's Mouthwatering Recipes in hand.

As soon as she entered the corridor, she began to run as fast as she could, hoping that the cold night air would shake off the irrational thoughts in her head. Catarina did not even care if a ghost suddenly materialised in front of her. In fact, she would be quite pleased, as it meant that she had something to think of rather than that earlier occurrence.

    "Oh heart," she murmured. "When will the tortures stop? I can't take it anymore..."