My head is cloudy in the way a person would feel waking up from a night of heavy drinking. Because apparently lust can make a person equally as drunk. 

I'm wearing the same maroon dress I was yesterday. The skirt is wrinkled and there are dents in my skin from where my jewelry was pressed in throughout the night.

My lips taste sweet, running my tongue over them sucking up the succulent taste I realize they're swollen. Swollen from a night of kissing. 

From kissing Sasha. 

At some point, we had made it from being pressed up against the wall of my study to being pressed up against the top of my sheets. 

I don't remember much, but I remember her falling asleep next to me. Her mouth shining and her eyelashes fluttering when she finally gave in to exhaustion and let her lids shut. Next to her, I laid, falling asleep quickly thereafter.

But now as I look around my room Sasha is nowhere to be found. No in my bathroom, my study, or even the parlor. Nowhere. 

This has never happened to me before. I can't remember a time when I woke up and there was no one around. There has always been a nanny telling me what to do or where to go. Once I was older there was always Kennedy drawing the blinds, starting a shower, or fixing me a glass of water while they read me my agenda. 

But now there is no Kennedy, there is Sasha. And Sasha is nowhere to be found. 

I don't know what to do.

On a normal day I would bathe, pick out my outfits for the day, then attend to my make-up and hair, and then once all those were done I would go off to breakfast. But I can't do any of those things without assistance. I've always had someone helping me. 

At a loss for what to do I decide on picking out my outfit. A black pencil skirt and a large grey wool knit sweater with white heels. As I mindlessly flick through my collection of shoulder bags the knob to my door clicks and it swigs open. 

"Finally," I sigh, swiveling around. "I was beginning to wonder if I needed to send for...  You're not Kennedy. 

The servant standing in my doorway is not Sasha. They couldn't even pass for Sasha if they tried. This servant is short and stout, all things that Sasha is not. Even the way they stand is different, so reserved and closed off. After falling into a deep bow they settle with their hands clasped behind their back. 

"Indeed, Princess," They say. "As of this morning servant Kennedy fell dreadfully ill and is unable to attend to their regular duties today. I am here as a replacement until Kennedy is well. My name is Hickelshire."

Am I going to be sick because I kissed Sasha? Do I have whatever illness she has?

"Very well," I say when another thought strikes me between the eyes. Is Sasha avoiding me? Before I can let myself react I list off what I need from Hickelshire. "I need my shower started and then all of my diamond jewelry gathered."

"Right away Your Highness." They say bustling about and away to my bath chamber. 

I decide that a shoulder bag will be unnecessary for today and have my closet deliver my clothes before entering the bathroom myself. 

Hickleshire stands waiting as I enter. Pulling my hair down from the messy ponytail I must have thrown it in at some point I reach for my zipper, stopping mid-movement when I realize the servant hasn't moved. 

Sasha watching me undress is one thing, I haven't a clue who this person is. I would like to keep my breasts my business for the time being. 

"You may go now." I offer with a slight edge.

"Of course, and you said you wanted all of your pearls gathered, correct?"

"My diamonds," I say. "And might you send for another servant or two to assist you in attending to my appearance? My hair and makeup can be a fickle thing and matters might go more efficiently if we had multiple hands helping. I'm afraid you alone will not have the skills Kennedy has spent so many years honing."

"But of course, Princess. Right away." After a hurried bow, the servant rushes away. leaving me and the scalding jet of water alone to ponder my thoughts. 

As I walk through the palace with a purpose in my step two guards follow me at a practiced distance. 

After readying myself, I dismissed Hickleshire and the two other servants, they were clumsy and eager to please. Their need for my appraisal was getting on my nerves. But palace protocol insists that if I'm not accounted for by a servant two guards must take their place. 

As I continue my walk one the of guards stops short as we surpass the dining hall. He rubs his jaw which is in need of a shave. His patchy stubble is embarrassing. 

"Princess," he probes. "We've just passed the dining hall." 

I stop and spin on my heel to face him. I must have moved quickly because he straightens his spine when my eyes fall upon him. 

"Out intended location was never the dining hall," I say sharply. "It's the Gratitude mansion."

The guard's cheeks flush as he bows his head. "Yes of course. Please excuse my interruption."

As I begin to nod the other, older guard clears his throat and begins speaking. "Many apologies, your highness. Gordon here is new to the guard, a trainee of you will. He clearly hasn't learned his place yet. He should know better than to question your authority. Offer him your forgiveness please."

Setting aside the man's plea  I scan Gordon, 'the trainee' one last time before turning my full attention to the clearly more experienced guard.

"What is your name?"

"First Lieutenant, Strongsbaird, your Highness."

"Lieutenant," I repeat. "You must rank high on our guard to hold such  title."

"I am currently working under Captin Williams himself, Princess." Strongsbaird nods.

"So you must have a lot of knowledge of our Kingdom and our palace's policies if you've been in the guard long enough to achieve such rank," I say with a  menacing calm. "Correct?"

"Yes, Your Highness."

"So as a ranking officer you should know better than to lie to your crown Princess."

Strongsbaird's eyes widen with what I can only identify as extreme terror. His adam's apple bobs as he swallows. "Begging your pardon?" He squeaks out. 

"Officer Gordon here is not a trainee." I drawl. "He served post outside what is now King Philip of Amet's chamber door the last time Legibus hosted the conference."

Gordon's mouth opens slightly, revealing white but crooked teeth. 

"You guards are not faceless as the servants are." I continue without giving Strongsbaird a chance to speak. "I was simply not able to forget the face of the soldier who stood drunk outside the crown prince's door." Strongsbaird parts his lips to say something but I cut him off. "Before you question my accusation of Officer Gordon's sobriety might I inform you the man reeked of alcohol. There was no question of his state. A state in which he was endangering the life of a close personal friend of mine. The man was drunk."

Strongsbaird's head whips towards Gordon, whose neck has flushed purple and he is attempting to shrink down inside his uniform. 

"Your Highness, I-I had no idea, I will report this to the captain as soon-"

I hold one hand up to stop his rambling. "Do not bother the captain with this. My father and I have a stats meeting with Williams this coming Tuesday. I shall alert him of everything then."

"Yes, Princess. Of course Princess." 

"Excellent," I smile clasping my hands together. "Now that we've covered that shall we move along?"

Without waiting for an answer I begin to walk. Leaving both men in stunned silence before they realize their role and scramble after me. 

I learned from an early age that my presence will command the respect of those around me. As I grew into my voice I saw how my words could strike fear into the hearts of Legibans. Because in the end, I am the all-powerful. It would be foolish to deny such a fact. 

But power is a tricky thing. 

In your mouth, it tastes hot a smooth. But the aftertaste is sticky and it lingers on your tongue. The flavor is addictive, and men have been driven to commit monstrous acts searching for their next hits. 

Which is why people must pay mind to who hand's power falls into. Those who desire it should never have it and those who have it should never long for more. 

I don't know which category to put myself in. Even less so when Gordon's plea for an honorable discharge to Strongsbaird meets my ears. But it is a cruel fact that such a discharge would not protect him from banishment if it came to that. Gordon knows that just as well as I do.

I fear for my sanity when the image or his suffering brings a smirk to my lips. But it's the grief that is making me this way. I am not a cruel woman. I will be a kind and understanding queen. My Grandmother's condition is poisoning my mind with selfish thoughts. 

I am a good person. 

Reaching the front gate to the Gratitude mansion my lungs suddenly seem to lose their ability to function.

"You can wait here," I instruct as another set of guards pulls open the gates to let me inside. 

Bowing all of the guards surrounding me follow me with their eyes as my heels click against the pavement. The sound hides my shaky breathing as a servant pulls open the doors. The halls seem to shrink and the staircases seem to lose their steps as I walk to my grandmother's sick chamber. 

As I round the corner a nurse in pair of black scrubs exits, pulling a cart filled with medication and other bottles. She lets out a faint squeak before lowering herself into a curtsey. 

"Princess Emmalyne, I- uh good morning. Are you here to see the Queen?" 

My brows turn downward and my mouth twists. "My mother is inside?"

"No, your highness, begging your pardon, I misspoke. Queen Kelly." The nurse says twisting her fingers together. 

"Yes I did come to see my grandmother," I say keeping my poise. "Is now not a good time?"

"Well, the medication I just administered makes the queen quite drowsy, there's a large chance she's fallen asleep by now." The nurse explains. 

"So she's asleep?" I ask in confirmation.

"Yes, I think so your, Highness." The nurse replies. 

"Very well," I sigh. "I'm here already aren't I?"

Opening the door myself and stepping inside I wait for the sound of the medication cart's wheels to fade before letting out a sigh of relief. 

Glancing over at my grandmother makes me flinch. She can't have grown frailer in just two days. But her figure has shrunk and her skin is almost translucent. But at least while she's sleeping she looks at peace. 

Her face isn't contorted the way it was when my Grandfather brought the whole Court parading in her room. I hope my expression isn't as horrified as it was before. 

There is a black chair pulled up to the side of the bed. I can't bring myself to sit that close to her face. I drag it closer to the foot of the bed and sit. My spine refuses to bend, forcing me to sit with perfect polished posture. 

As I watch the woman I love most in the world sleep, my chin begins to quiver. Her chest moves in a methodical up and down motion, her breathing seems so slow. She is no longer the kind and energetic queen she was. 

The woman who raised me is dying. She doesn't look like Queen Kelly. She looks like an old lady sleeping. 

With that thought, a single tear slips from the corner of my eye and falls down my cheek. The tear splatters into my leg, seeping into the black of my skirt.

"You can't die," I whisper still staring at the wet spot on my leg. "I can't do this without you."

A small part of me expects her to wake up and comfort me. But she keeps breathing through her nose, even in her sleep she is ladylike. 

"Please stay alive until my coronation. Please, Grandmother. I'm so confused. I don't know what I'm doing. They expect me to ascend in seven months. I'm so lost without you." 

She says nothing. 

"Please, Nana. Help me."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When she began to stir an hour later I panicked and fled. I couldn't catch my breath until I was halfway up the steps to the Children's tower. 

Panting I pressed my head against the marble until my temperature cooled. Visting her today was a bad idea. I have a meeting with my father's Cabinet tonight over dinner. No doubt will they pester me over my coming matrimony. 

I wasted my composture at the Gratitude mansion. I should have been saving it for dinner. 

I'm nothing but a foolish girl who makes foolish mistakes.  

"You need to go get ready," I mutter pushing myself off the wall. 

Continuing up the steps I do my best to use some of the breathing technics David taught me once. Reaching my chambers my knees go weak at the idea of sitting in my bed.

Throwing open the doors I kick my shoes off immediately and pad over to my bed. But halfway there I notice the bathroom light is on. 

I haven't summonsed Hickelshire yet. Did they come early? 

Nudging the door open just a crack I peer inside. A servant stands at my cabinet reaching for something on the top shelf. Hickelshire is too short to even attempt such a feat. 

Stepping fully inside I cross my arms and lean against the doorframe. 

"I thought you had fallen dreadfully ill?"

Sasha yelps and the container of bobby pins she was reaching for clatters to the floor spewing metal clips everywhere. 

"Dammit, Emmalyne!" Sasha shouts rubbing the part of her head where the container bounced off. 

"Excuse you?" 

Sasha stops mid-motion in taking off her mask. 

"You lie about being sick all day, to what, avoid me? Then you shout at me the second we see one another?" I prompt my lip curling.

"I was kind of hoping that wouldn't be an issue." Sasha grimaces pulling off her hood and letting a mop of curls spring out. 

"What?" I'm barely even able to comprehend what she's saying. "Not an issue. You ran out on me."

"I panicked," She says sharply. "Kissing you technically makes me a criminal now. They've banished women for less than what I did."

"What you did? Sasha in case you're forgetting my status doesn't protect me from the law. I'm just as much of a criminal as you are."

"We're not the same." Sasha cries gesturing between us. "If we were found out who would the Court banish, the crown princess or her lowly servant? The decision is the King's. What man would choose a glorified chambermaid over his daughter?"

"That's bold talk coming from someone who has heard first hand some of the things my father has said to me," I say a little too aggressively.

"So why aren't you more afraid?" Sasha demands.

"If you think for one second that I'm not fucking terrified then you must not have a brain." I barely keep my next sentence steady. "But I'm not going to run off just because I'm scared."

Sasha takes multiple steps towards me and brings her hand to my cheek. I trip over my feet and stumble back. 

"What the fuck are you doing?" I ask once I regain my balance.

Her face flickers with hurt. "What?"

"How do I know you're not going to kiss me all night and then run away again?" I demand.

She pauses for a moment before speaking. "Can you make a promise?"

Not this again.

"I already told you, I can't protect you, if it came to that I wouldn't be able to protect myself."

"No not that." Shasha shakes her head. "If you can promise me right now that you won't run away from me, I'll never leave you again."

"That-," I say softly taking her words into serious consideration. Then I begin to nod faintly. "That I can promise."

Sasha's lips split into a joyous smile as she sweeps me into her arms. My face fitting perfectly into the crook of her neck. 

"Yeah" She askes. 

"Yeah," I reply. 

"Good."