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Rebecca landed with a thump, on something hard. Her hip absorbed most of the impact and she winced in pain, hoping she hadn't broken it. Thankfully, her hammering heart numbed the pain, to the point where it felt like nothing more than a tickle.

Glancing up, all she saw was darkness. She'd felt herself falling. And, even though she'd only ever been on a small slide before at an amusement park, she knew what it felt like. Whatever was up there she was thankful for.

Paranoia reared its ugly head, despite Rebecca's attempts at keeping it away. Were they looking for her? Had they seen her gracelessly dive through the small door? Was there a trap door that led to where she was; a secret tunnel?

Above her — and through what she now guessed was some sort of vent — she could hear shouting, accompanied by loud stomps.

Rebecca held her breath in an attempt to hear what they were saying. She caught snippets of conversation; Mikael's voice along with others she didn't know.

". . . General, she went through the door . . . where else . . . sir, she'll be found . . ."

"Find her . . . pay the price . . ."

"There's only one door . . . did she fly . . ."

". . . Can't fly, idiot . . . look for her . . ."

". . . Yes, sir, but . . . is she . . ."

"Not my problem . . . find her . . ."

Rebecca forced away any panic, relying solely on her survival instincts to get her through this — all whilst wishing they'd kick into overdrive. Overthinking was going to work against her. Taking the time to analyse every decision was a novelty she didn't have.

Rebecca droned out their voices, focusing on her current predicament. She had to find out where she was and a way out, otherwise they'd just catch her before she even got the chance to run.

First she felt underneath her. She knew she was lying on something hard, she'd felt it when she landed. It was cold. It couldn't be anything other than concrete.

Realising that, she was just glad she hadn't broken any bones. She'd broken her leg by falling off a swinging set as a child. Falling down a vent, after being chased by a General, and landing on a slab of concrete topped that easily. And she was uninjured after it — from watched she could tell anyway, considering she couldn't see.

This felt like déjà vu. She was reliving what had happened in the room before Mikael had walked in and decided to steal the limelight, before promptly telling her that it had all been a lie. That he was some sort of General, out to get Rebecca from the start.

Rebecca forced herself to lose the train of thought. Dwelling on it was only going to hinder her escape — and the odds were already stacked against her.

Her breathe caught as a light flipped on and she just hoped she was hidden being something. Knowing her luck, it was one of the people — faeries — Mikael had sent to find her.

Without moving an inch, she glanced around. There's was a concrete slab beneath her, above that a vent that was so dark, she couldn't see up it. Next to her was a stack of grey sheets. A laundry shoot, she realised, that's where she was. And, this time, Rebecca had become the laundry dumped down the shoot.

Slowly, as her eyes adjusted to the sudden brightness, everything else came into view. The room was small, walls white and sterile. A washing machine was stacked on the back wall, a dryer on top of it. Next to it, running along the whole wall was a marble bench with a sink and the middle and cupboards underneath. The wooden door was to the left, closed.

Beside her was a large thick, protruding, brick wall, hiding her from anyone that opened the door.

That was it. A cynical part of her was a little disappointed — she'd expected an elaborate tunnel, full of twists and turns. A dungeon even. Not a laundry room.

It was then that Rebecca she heard two voice, sounding distinctly feminine. Two pairs of feet came into view

"Sometimes I hate this job. It's better than being a teacher in the school, but I still hate it."

"Better than being a teacher? We do the laundry, Adeline."

"Yes, but we do the King's laundry. How many others can say that?"

"His laundry, Adeline. It's nothing spectacular."

"Others would pay to just be in his presence, Margery."

There's a snort of laughter. "His underwhelming presence — nothing like they made him out to be."

"Don't say that. You know they have camera's everywhere."

"He's too busy developing war strategies against the Neveri throne."

"The queen's dead, haven't you forgotten? Tragic death, I heard. Now her distant cousins in power."

"Exactly. Now's the perfect time to strike. The Neveri dynasty is over, there's no one left. There's no known relatives. He's not going to care about a whisper. So we have nothing to worry about."

Shock coursed through Rebeca. They were talking about her, they had to be. It didn't take rocket science to figure out who they were at war with. And, according to Mikael, she was the (now deceased) Queen's daughter.

So they were talking about her. And assuming she wasn't even alive anymore.

Rebecca wasn't sure if that news terrified her or comforted her. She figured it wasn't the latter.

"Did you hear that?"

"Yes, what is it?"

She heard footsteps, walking along the tiled floor. "It's probably nothing. Come one, we have to get the laundry done."

"No, it's someone. I can hear breathing."

Was it her breathing? She hoped not. Rebecca froze, heart stuttering. In the tiny, enclosed space, she knew they'd probably heard her. Possibly even heard her crash to the concrete.

"I'm going to go check it out, Margery."

The footsteps got closer. And closer.

When Rebecca could stand it no longer, fear threatening to paralyse her, she made a split second decision, not even letting herself consider the consequences. She just hoped her acting skills decided to miraculously appear, otherwise it wouldn't work.

Before the footsteps could get to close, she groaned, stumbling to her feet as if she'd just fallen — which she had. As her head popped up over the edge, she heard two synchronised gasps. Her nerves were frayed, but she tried to look as lost and hopeless as possible.

"I . . . I'm— sorry," she stuttered, her pounding. If a term of drama class had taught her anything, it was that she was only ever acting when she felt like an idiot. And, right now, she felt more idiotic than she'd ever felt in her life, so she thought she was doing well. "I was . . . on my way to get some laundry to start work, but— but, I got . . . lost. And I fell."

Now that she was no longer hiding, she stared openly at the two women in the room, knowing her face was burning with embarrassment.

The one closer to her — Adeline, if her guess was right — was long and lean no older than thirty, wispy blonde hair pulled back into a pony tail, some wayward hairs covering her face. Thick glasses framed her brown eyes. Margery was shorter, though just as slim. Her brown hair was whisked into a haphazard bun. Her blue eyes weren't covered with glasses, though. Both of them wore grey uniforms, a shirt and a pencil skirt, black shoes on their feet.

"You got lost?" Adeline asks, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Of course she got lost, Adeline. She's clearly new, barely out of school. I still get lost and I've worked here for ten years," Margery muttered, one eyebrow raised.

Adeline glares at Rebecca, who tries not to flinch, heart still beating too quickly to be normal. "Where's your uniform?"

Rebecca glanced down, seeing that she was still in the clothes she'd worn before she'd been kidnapped. "I'm new," she stuttered. "I was told to meet someone to get it . . . but I couldn't find them. And I found this room and couldn't work out where to go."

The lie seemed to placate Margery, who frowned. "Oh, poor dear. You must've been terrified. The guards are rushing around, clearly on a man hunt. You probably thought they were out to get you."

They are out to get me, she thought. She chose not to share the information though, continuing to play the part considering they looked like they were buying it so far. "I heard their footsteps. They were yelling. So I started to run because I thought I was trespassing . . . and I got even more lost."

Adeline didn't budge, staring at her with narrowed eyes.

Margery, however, had no problems in buying the lies. "Oh, poor thing. I'll show you to where the uniforms are. It shouldn't take too long."

Adeline looked back, scoffing in disbelief. "We have our own work to do. There's no time to be showing around the new staff."

"Isn't it a good thing someone left a spare uniform in here, then," Margery muttered, with a smile.

Rebecca couldn't believe her luck. She'd been worried about where she was going to take her lie, if they decided she'd have to walk around the castle. There was no way she could get around without being seen. Even with the grey uniform, her face would still look the same.

She could only hope none of them had seen her before she'd ran.

"I'll grab you a uniform," Margery said, walking towards the back wall where the bench was located. She opened one of the cupboards, pulling out some grey clothes. It looked bigger than what Rebecca usually wore but not by much.

"Is there a hat that you can wear?" Rebecca asked, bracing for the weird looks they'd give her.

Adeline laughed. "You're working indoors; unless you were assigned as a gardener because then you'll need one."

Rebecca took the answer as a no, heart sinking a little. Changing her clothes wasn't going to disguise her, she knew it. On the bright side though, it was a temporary substitute and posing at a laundry maid would give her an alibi.

Margery sighed, casting Rebecca a look that could only be described as pitying. "They didn't explain anything to you, did they? Do you even know what you're job is?"

Rebecca shrugged, attempting to look confused — which wasn't hard to fake, considering she was confused. "Not really — they just said I had to gather laundry and clean it. I just finished school and I needed a job. I didn't think it'd be this confusing working here."

"You don't even know where to gather it from," Adeline whispered, arms crossed over her chest.

Rebecca aimed for sounding hopeless — how successful she was, was open for interpretation. "No." She shook her head, trying to look forlorn. "It was probably my fault anyway. Mother's always saying I'm no good at anything. I wanted this job to prove her wrong, prove that I could do it without failing like she said I would." She sighed, surprised at the tear that threatened to fall. "I guess she was right."

Pretending to be the poor, defenceless child even broke through Adeline's glare, a softer, sympathetic gaze focusing on Rebecca. "I'm sorry to hear that. And it's not your fault. Even the best of us get lost some days."

Margery nodded. "It's true. And since no one briefed you, why don't you work with us? We'll show you where all the rooms are and what to do."

Her luck had to run out soon. Surely. It was all falling into place, even though it should've been going terribly wrong for Rebecca.

Shaking her head, she nodded. "Thank you," she said. "I don't know what I would've done without you."

"No need to thank us, dear," Margery said with a smile. "Now, we'll leave so you can get changed. Come out when you're dressed and we'll show you how it all works."

More than an hour later, Rebecca had a new respect for laundry maids. So far it had been exhausting. They'd been to more than twenty rooms, gathering all the sheets off the bed, before tossing them to the laundry shoot.

And, she'd been informed by Margery, they still had over a hundred more rooms to visit.

Rebecca couldn't believe it. She'd heard about castles for the royals, but this was way beyond what she'd thought it to be. There were four wings, almost five hundred staff. It was mind-blowing.

Her mind was too preoccupied to dwell on it, however.

She'd heard the guards walking along the guards, shouting orders at each other and everyone around. Each time, her heart sank and her palms got sweaty.

If they happened to be in the hall at the same time, she bowed her head. It seemed to be the right thing to do luckily, since Adeline and Margery did as well. The guards walked right by without even sparing her a passing glance.

Rebecca had to admit she was a little insulted. They assumed she was an idiot, clearly. That she'd walk around in plain sight waiting to be caught.

"Rianne, help," Margery ordered, from where she was lifting the corner of a mattress to get the sheets out from under it.

Grateful, she remembered the fake name she'd given them, Rebecca hurried over. "What can I help with?"

Adeline paused, where she was busy laying a dark black sheet over one of the bed, to glance over her shoulder at Rebecca. "Grab some of the folded pillow cases from the laundry room."

Rebecca froze, nerves kicking in. "The laundry room?" Her voice was a little too high pitched for her liking.

Adeline narrowed her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest. "Who hired you?" she asked, voice incredulous and a little annoyed. "I need to speak to them, because they need to get higher standards."

Before Rebecca could defend herself, Margery cut in, voice hard. "Adeline, don't be so rude. She's young and new; give her a chance. Your first day wasn't filled with guards shouting orders at everyone they see. She's terrified."

They really were making this easier on her, Rebecca realised. Without even trying to, they were making her story more plausible. Shaking her head, she bent down to pick up the dirty sheets she'd dropped. "The laundry room?" she repeated, as she walked over to the laundry shoot, pushing the sheet through.

Adeline sighed. "You have to go down to the laundry room — where we were before — to grab fresh sheets. Then you have to bring them up. We'll stay on this floor, so just look in any open doors for us."

Rebecca frowned, turning around to stare at them. Neither were looking at her, both entirely focused on laying fresh sheets over the queen size wooden bed. "I have to go on my own?"

"Yes. You remember the way, don't you?"

The answer to that was simple. Rebecca had no idea how they'd even gotten to this room. She'd been too preoccupied with trying to hide to memorise the path they'd taken. All she knew was that it was a walkway after another. "I don't remember the exact way," she muttered, before sighing. "I don't remember at all. I'll just get lost."

"Useless, I tell you," Adeline said, before reaching into her pocket, before walking over and putting it right into Rebecca's hands.

Rebecca stared down at what looked like a map of intricate tunnels and hallways in confusion, looking back up when Adeline spoke.

"This is the castle map. We're here—" Adeline dragged her finger over an area, and Rebecca watched in amazement, as a circle formed, without a pen in sight. "—and here is where you need to go." then she circled somewhere on the other side, labelled 'laundry.'

That didn't help. At all. Still, Rebecca said nothing as she was shooed out of the room. Before she knew what was happening, there was a door closing, right in her face.

All she could do was sigh, glancing around nervously. In a group, there was nothing suspicious about her. On her own though? They were bound to ask her where she was going and who she was. It was inevitable.

Or maybe she was just being paranoid.

Somehow, she doubted it.

Again, Rebecca sighed, opening the map she'd been given. If she was going to keep up the façade she had to go grab the laundry. Otherwise they'd realise she wasn't who she was telling them. That was the last thing she needed.

Rebecca turned left, walking aimlessly as she tried to make sense of the map. There was four sections — the north, west, east and south wings. Judging by what Adeline had circled, she was in the East Wing, and that was the only one she needed to go to.

It didn't make it any less confusing.

The map was a mess of hallways, tunnels and rooms. Most were unlabelled, aside from the ones labelled 'General' and 'King Enriguel.' Apart from that, it was barely understandable.

Moving logically, she went to the left. She was towards the middle, and the laundry room was marked at the end, to the left of it.

Working logically didn't last long. By the fifth corner she was well and truly lost, the map proving useless. Rebecca was tempted to drop it to the ground and stomp all over it in frustration, but she somehow managed not to. For one, it was childish. And two, it might come in handy later, if she somehow, miraculously, managed to find her way there.

"Where do you think you're going?" a voice barked.

Rebecca turned, heart stuttering. Behind her stood one of the guards, his thick chest covered in the black uniform. He had to be over six feet tall, bare minimum. His hair was fair, almost hacked off, he'd shaved it that roughly. His eyes were dark, empty, his mouth set into a deep scowl.

When she only stared at him with wide eyes, he stalked forward, until he was close enough to breathe on her. Rebecca stepped back hastily. He grinned, full of malice. "I'm not going to repeat myself. Where're you going?"

"The laun— laundry room," Rebecca stuttered, hands shaking as she gripped the map in a bruising grip. "To get fresh sheet."

He raised an eyebrow. "Laundry room, huh? And who sent you?"

Rebecca wasn't brave enough to stare at him, opting for the floor instead. "Adeline and Margery."

"Are you lying to me?" he barked. When Rebecca flinched, he laughed. "Tell me the truth. Now. I have no patience today so you don't want to test me."

"I'm not lying," she whispered, voice unnaturally high. "I was sent to get laundry."

"Were you, now?" he muttered, voice cold. "I think you're lying to me. See, I know who you are. And the General's searching the whole castle for you."

Rebecca didn't waste time on finding out if he was bluffing or not. She'd made the mistake once and it wasn't going to happen again.

Without hesitation, she turned and ran, sprinting as if her life depended on it — which it did. She lost tracks of how many corners she'd turned, heart racing.

There was a deep chuckle behind her. "Run all you want. You won't win."

He wasn't running after her, Rebecca noted with panic.

In the next second she found out why.

She skidded to a stop, fire flashing in front of her eyes. There was a wall of fire in front of her, reaching from wall to wall, roof to floor.

The scream was purely a reflex, but it was ear-piercing.

Again, the guard behind her chuckled. "And now you're stuck."

Her eyes went to every inch of the space. There was only two exists, both blocked — one by the guard and one by the wall of fire. It dawned on her that he was right. She was stuck. Nowhere to run.

"What're you going to do now?" he mocked.

Rebecca had no idea.

Get out of here. Please someone get me out of here, she thought desperately, begging someone, though there was no one to beg and she was just talking to herself.

He crossed his arms over his chest. "Nothing? Of course not, you're stuck. What's your plan, princess?"

Please, she thought. Get me out of here. Someone—

The next second passed by in slow motion. She heard the surprised shout of the guard, the words garbled and distorted. Then she felt herself falling, before she blacked out completely. It happened too quickly for her to let panic set in.

u;C