"So I think all the princesses that come to visit us stay on the second floor in one of the suites, you'll have your own room of course, with everything you'll be needing." Molly assured.
"Lovely, thank you very much. This castle is very beautiful." Irene decided as they ascended one of the more open staircases, windows on the higher levels casting sun down the stone steps. That's the one thing Sherlock could agree with, this castle was pretty nice. That would be one of the few things he missed if he had somehow quit his lifelong job of being a prince, the castle, the servants, and the food.
"So Sherlock, have you had many other princesses come to the castle?" Irene wondered, sounding as if she were trying to make a hit list or something.
"Oh yes, many times." Sherlock agreed. He felt like he should add something that made Irene feel like she was special, but considering there was nothing he could think of he just let it go.
"Sherlock's a very picky prince." Molly added with a laugh, as if the awkward silence was too much for her. Irene's grip on Sherlock's arm became just a bit tighter after Molly had said that, as if she were trying to claim territory.
"Do you have any other suitors?" Sherlock wondered, hoping that a good few of them were more desirable than he was.
"Oh yes, many." She agreed, basically the same answer Molly had given. Sherlock smiled weakly and kept walking. Finally Molly opened the door to one of the nicer suites, letting Irene walk inside and take a look around. Thankfully she let go of Sherlock's arm and he was free to linger by the door, straightening the sagging crown on his head.
"Is there anything we can get you now?" Sherlock wondered.
"Oh that's all for now, I'm sure my servants will be up any moment." Irene assured.
"Lovely, well if you need anything just give me a ring." Molly suggested with a smile. Irene smiled at her, a little fire in her eyes that made Sherlock worried for Molly's wellbeing.
"Yes of course, and who are you, exactly? A servant?" she wondered. Molly blinked for a moment and Sherlock couldn't help but laugh, looking at Molly in shock. 
"No ma'am, sorry, I'm the daughter of one of the noblemen here at Lauriston, and I'm Sherlock's best friend." She said proudly, staring Irene right down. The two girls glared at each other for a moment but finally Sherlock cleared his throat.
"Well then, if that's all we best be going." He decided.
"Yes of course, have a nice rest of your day." Irene agreed.
"Ya um...bye." Sherlock agreed, walking out the door and letting Molly close it, walking a good twenty feet before stopping and leaning up against the wall, taking Mycroft's horrible crown off of his head and making sure the coast was clear before starting to laugh. Molly groaned, rubbing her forehead as if the very sight of Irene gave her a headache.
"And who are you, a servant?" Sherlock said in a cruel imitation of Irene's voice.
"My god what a horrible girl!" Molly agreed, laughing a little bit and looking down the hallway.
"Awful, truly awful. Did you see the way she was glaring at you?" Sherlock wondered, wiping off his sleeve wherever Irene had touched it.
"Oh ya, those daggers in her eyes. Why did you even think to bring me?" Molly wondered.
"Well I didn't know where she should be staying! And I didn't want to be alone with her, just in case she killed me or something." Sherlock added, and Molly just laughed at him.
"Sherlock you're so weak, it's almost like you're scared of women." Molly pointed out.
"That's no woman." Sherlock defended. Molly laughed in agreement, shaking her head in disbelief.
"Your father better not make you marry her, I don't know if I'd laugh or cry." Molly laughed.
"I know what I'd do." Sherlock admitted.
"What's that?" Molly wondered.
"Jump off the guard tower." Sherlock admitted, starting to walk towards his room.
"I'd be right after you." Molly agreed, following like an obedient puppy.
"So you think she'll stay long?" Sherlock wondered, twirling Mycroft's crown carelessly on his wrist as he walked.
"No idea, hopefully not. Your father seemed to like them though." Molly admitted.
"It was their first meeting; of course he'd seem like that." Sherlock defended.
"Ya but sometimes you can tell when his smile is fake. This one seemed genuine." Molly pointed out.
"Don't scare me like that Molly, it's cruel." Sherlock insisted. Molly just laughed, but thankfully she kept her mouth shut. Sherlock didn't want to hear any evidence of his father liking that witch, just to make sure he didn't actually have a future with her. Finally Sherlock got to his room he opened the door and collapsed onto his bed with a groan, staring up at the ceiling thankfully. Better the ceiling than that horrible girl. Molly went right behind the screen to try to take off her corset, which was quite a process without the help of some servant girls.
"Do you want to go riding tonight?" Sherlock wondered, hoping for a nice break from royal life.
"You're going to dinner with her, aren't you? There will be no time." Molly pointed out. Sherlock groaned loudly, rolling onto his stomach and groaning again into the fancy blankets.
"I don't want to go to dinner with her!" Sherlock whined.
"Come on, she's like every other princess you've come across. Just smile, be polite and poised, but make sure she doesn't fall in love with you." Molly pointed out.
"I don't want to get married Molly!" Sherlock groaned loudly.
"And you won't have to, as long as everything goes the perfect amount of wrong." Molly assured. Suddenly she took a deep, satisfied breath, as if she had just emerged from underwater. "There we go." She said proudly, swinging the corset overtop of the screen.
"At least I don't have to wear one of those." Sherlock said in relief.
"Yes, they're quite a pain." Molly admitted, finally coming out from behind the screen, fully dressed but looking a lot more comfortable.
"Can you come to dinner with me too?" Sherlock wondered hopefully.
"No Sherlock, I can't. You can't drag me into everything you don't want to do." Molly insisted.
"But you're fun; you're the only entertaining one here!" Sherlock pointed out. Molly just laughed, shaking her head and sitting on the bed next to where Sherlock was laying.
"Do you remember when we had that formal dinner for all the noblemen and their families and we were sitting across the hall from each other and you through a roasted potato at me?" she wondered. Sherlock just laughed, a difficult task when lying face down on the bed.
"And I hit your dad and blamed it on Mycroft?" he added.
"Yep, that's the time." Molly agreed with a laugh, laying down over top of all of Sherlock's pillows and staring at the ceiling herself. "God, that feels like years ago."
"It was only a couple of months ago, I know because I just got ungrounded like two weeks ago." Sherlock admitted.
"Your grounding is nothing, only one hundred gold pieces this week instead of two hundred, big deal. I'm not allowed to leave my chambers." Molly pointed out.
"You never get in trouble though." Sherlock insisted.
"Ya because I don't want that punishment." Molly agreed.
"Good thing you're a good person." Sherlock insisted.
"I just don't get caught." Molly shrugged. Sherlock just laughed, rolling back onto his back and glaring at Molly the best he could.
"You're such a liar, you're a good girl, when's the last time you did something rebellious?" Sherlock wondered.
"Shut up Sherlock, you just say that because you're not allowed to be rebellious." Molly pointed out.
"I can too!" Sherlock insisted.
"Then maybe we're both good people." Molly pointed out. Sherlock groaned, crossing his arms in denial.
"I'm not a good person." He insisted defensively. Molly just laughed, obviously she wasn't convinced but she kept her mouth shut anyway.
"You're going to have to learn to be, if you're going to be any kind of king." She pointed out.
"Don't talk about the future; you know it stresses me out." Sherlock insisted, getting even more upset. He could barely imagine himself getting married, much less being a king. Being a prince wasn't all it was cut out to be, it was stressful, it was miserable, and beyond all of that it was just plain tedious. Sherlock would much rather live the life of a servant, even if it meant he would give up his riches and fame. Servants had no worries; servants had no public image, no expectations. Being the lowest of the low had its advantages, and right now Sherlock envied them.

                John POV: John didn't want anyone to die. In fact, he would be very happy if there were no deaths in this entire trip, but he knew he had a mission, and he had been told what he had to do. John had never taken a life and by god he didn't want to have to learn how, but there were times when saving people that mattered was more important than saving strangers, so in John's case, well, the strangers had to die. He had never expected to be roaming the halls of Lauriston castle; in fact he had never even expected to meet any royalty in his life. That was until the small town he lived in got invaded, and then everything changed. See, the kingdom of Baskervilles wanted only one thing, revenge on the Holmes monarchy. It didn't make sense, and honestly John didn't know why, but for some reason it was the only goal of the Moriarty family to have King Holmes' head on a plate, along with everyone else he dared to love. John had known that, of course, a royal feud was something even simple farmers had to caution themselves with, just so that they didn't get caught in the middle of it. And yet, here he was, caught in the middle like a fly in a web. John had lived a simple life with his mother, father, and sister. They were farmers with little money, little food, and big hearts. And then the Baskervilles troops came, burning down their houses, destroying their crops, killing their livestock, all for fun. All of this was to send a message about how easily their peaceful lives could be destroyed. John and his family had been kidnapped, thrown in a cage and carted away to Baskervilles, leaving their smoldering town behind them. There John learned of his gruesome mission, a mission that, if successful, will help the Moriarty family overthrow the Holmes for good. John was to be an assassin, tagging along with an unknown ally of the Moriartys' posing as a servant. John was told that he needed to kill the Holmes family with a certain blade, one engraved with the Moriarty family crest and encrusted with emeralds. If John failed his mission, however, his family died alongside him, burned at the stake in the highest disgrace. So basically John couldn't fail, he couldn't wimp out, and he couldn't run away. He was trapped, forced to wear the green servant's attire of the Adler family and hike all the way out to Lauriston kingdom, all with his knife hidden in a concealed sheath on his belt. However miserable John's situation was however, he wasn't alone. He was joined by a girl named Mary Morstan from another town, another girl in the same predicament as he was. John wondered why they didn't just hire actual assassins to do the dirty work, someone who was a lot more trained and experienced than they were. But King Moriarty insisted that there was a chance a professional could be recognized, that John and Mary had the look of authentic servants. John didn't know if that was a compliment or not, but he just played along. His family's lives were in his hands, and he didn't care how much royal blood needed to be spilled, it was necessary if he wanted to go back to his normal life. But of course this job didn't come easy, John never really realized that this undercover servant work would actually include servant work, and now he was just starting to appreciate his life on the farm.
"Would you hurry up with those bags?" Queen Adler snapped, clapping her hands impatiently at the top of the stairs so that John would quicken his sluggish pace.
"Sorry ma'am, these bags seem to be filled with rocks." John groaned, lugging the bags up the last step and hobbling to her room.
"I don't care what they're filled with, they need to get up the stairs and I'm certainly not going to be the one to do it. That leaves you, servant." Sheinsisted.
"I'm not a servant." John groaned, but as soon as he finished his sentence he got slapped in the back of the head by the Queen's heavily ringed hand.
"Don't talk like that boy; here you are anything we want you to be, and everything we require you to be. You're only a farmer when you're in your little town, or whatever's left of it at least. You're only an assassin when you're slitting those pathetic Holmes' throats, and the rest of the time you're our servant. So drop those bags on the dresser and get unpacking, I won't ask again." she insisted, her voice dripping with venom as she spoke. God that woman was a nightmare, John would much rather cutting her throat instead, so far the only royals that had shown him any disrespect where the ones he was now serving. The Holmes family seemed polite and elegant, what John had in mind when he imagined a monarchy. It was nearly impossible to avoid hearing about the Holmes family, their power, their riches, and not to mention their son. Sherlock Holmes, John had heard so many stories of the prince that he almost felt like he knew him personally. The Golden Prince, sent to bring peace to the lands, or so the legends said. John's mother used to tell him stories about the prince when he was little, not that the prince was any older than he at the time. She said that on the day Sherlock Holmes was born the sky turned gold, the clouds disappeared and the sun shone all through the night, as if the earth was celebrating the birth of a true hero. He was said to have picked up a sword at the age of three, able to defeat even grown men by the time he was four. His bravery, skill, and elegance were known all through the Lauriston territory, he was said to be the noblest child that ever had been born. That was one thing John was anxious to see here, the legendary Golden Prince, to see if the legends were indeed true. Then again, John knew that eventually he was going tobe the one responsible for putting an end to him. Mary was assigned to kill the parents, John was going to kill the sons, and that included Sherlock Holmes. John didn't like the idea of killing anyone, especially having to murder his childhood hero. John unpacked the queen's bags as best he could, trying to hang the dresses up in the wardrobe the best he could, displaying the jewelry and lining the bottles of perfume upon the dresser. The queen had quite anextensive selection of all things lady, makeup, shoes, hair products, her bag seemed to be bottomless. When John was finally finished, however, he was shooed away like he was no more than a fly, kicked out of the room so that the queen could relax before dinner or something like that. John scowled as the door was slammed in his face, but then decided he had better just get used to this kind of abuse. Obviously the queen wasn't much of a talker, or a lover, or a human at all, but he had better just get used to it. This was the life of a servant, as tragic as it was, and he was a servant now. It was getting later now; John could see the sun setting from over the treetops. It was odd, seeing that same sun when everything in his life was so different. When he was a farmer the setting sun was a good sign, it meant that the work day was over and everyone could relax. Here, however, everyone was still bustling around, getting ready for dinner and making sure everything was in tip top shape for the numerous royal families taking refuge in these many walls. John wasn't quite sure what he was supposed to be doing, It wasn't like the queen helped him in anyway and it wasn't like he had any friends here. He could try to ask Mary but he had no idea where she might be hiding, possibly already on the move, trying to get her job done as quickly and as messily as possible. Mary didn't seem too shaken about the idea of killing people. In fact she seemed rather excited, as if it had always been her dream to take a royal life. John had made a mental note long ago to stay clear of the girl, at least until he got his footing in this new life. She seemed rather, disturbed.