Y/N

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I must have fallen asleep on the journey here.

My eyes fluttered open, welcomed by the same dark view. My skin was sweating under the humidity of the straw bag, and my head was banging with exhaustion. The rope was still scratching at my wrists, yet I awoke to find myself in a chair.

"Fifty pounds?" I heard a man scoff. His voice sounded like the one from the thin man I met a few hours ago. "Bringing her here took a lot more effort than fifty pounds."

"Fifty pounds is what we agreed upon."

I heard the thin man laugh threateningly, "I could always take business to the Frey."

A pause.

"Sixty pounds," the unfamiliar voice said, "that's it."

"Eighty pounds."

"Seventy, and that's final."

There was an exchange of money, followed by the slamming of a door. My heart beat fast as I heard footsteps approach where I was sitting, before coming to a stop in front of me. Holding my breath, I tried not to let them know I was awake. They circled the chair for a few moments, before whipping the bag off of my head.

My eyes stung at the bright lights around me, black sunspots appearing around my pupils.

"It's fine," the voice said, "they've left."

I blinked, waiting to come back to my senses. I was sitting in a kitchen of some sort, stew boiling over on a stove beside me. There was a beat up wooden table to my right, and an assortment of meat hanging above me on a string.

"Where am I?" I croaked out, my voice worn from yelling, "who are you?"

I felt someone tug at the ropes, letting my wrists go. Walking in front of me, I noticed that it was a man, a sympathetic look on his face. He had brown eyes, and brown hair, his nose a little crooked on the bridge.

"Arthur Twist," he said, "no one of importance."

"Then why did I hear you paying someone to kidnap me?"

"I wasn't the one paying," he shrugged, "but that's besides the point. You must be hungry, aren't you?"

Embarrassingly, my stomach growled at the implication of food. I hadn't eaten since this morning, and by the looks out the window, it was almost evening. I rubbed the red marks on my arms, swollen from being tied for hours. Arthur slid behind the table, slapping a loaf of bread in front of him.

"I'll make you a sandwich," he offered, "I'm sorry you had to be taken like that."

"I thought you weren't the one paying," I scoffed, tilting my head, "why am I here?"

"I don't know why, I just follow the orders given to me," he nodded, "I'm a cook not a diplomat."

"Am I in Valor?"

"Yes," he said, "and I'm afraid you won't be able to leave here until instructed."

"I have a family, you realize? If anyone from Frey finds out your people captured me, another war will break out."

"Another war would mean nothing," Arthur sighed, "it's second nature by now."

He grabbed a knife and dipped it into a jar of some yellow sauce. I wasn't sure what it was, but I had never seen anything like it in Lourdes. Standing up, I began to move around the kitchen, observing everything I could.

"Those men said they would take business to Frey," I said, "they must not be from Valor, then."

"They come from the South," he explained, "bandits, thieves, gypsies, and other people dwell there."

"And your king allowed them to waltz right into your gates?"

"The king is dead," Arthur frowned, holding out a plate, "our orders come from the prince."

"The prince?"

"No more questions, just eat your sandwich."

I took the meal from his hands, carrying it over to the table. Just then, the door swung open, and a woman came rushing in. her hair was pinned back into a bun, and an apron was tied neatly around her waist.

"Arthur," she said, running over to him, "has she arrived?"

"She's in front of you, Ella."

The woman turned around, before letting out a sigh of relief. Sticking out her hand, she gave me a soft smile.

"Ella Reynolds," she introduced herself, "I'm the castle's head chambermaid."

I hesitantly shook her head, confused on everything that was going on. Meeting new people was alien to me, since I never had the chance to in Lourdes. I doubted I would be able to remember their names quickly.

"I don't suppose you could tell me why I'm here," I asked, sending Arthur a disappointed look.

"That's what I'm here for," Ella said, "you've been summoned."

"By who?"

"By the prince."

I shook my head, "I'd like to see my friend first."

I saw Ella look at Arthur alarmingly, but tried to play it off.

"I'm afraid you cannot leave the castle," she said, "who is your friend? I might be able to request their presence."

"He's a knight. His name is Timothée."

The boy next to me laughed, slapping the side of the table. Ella also seemed amused, but snapped her smile away when she saw me looking.

"What's so funny?" I urged, glaring at Arthur.

"Timothée the knight?" He shrugged, "I hadn't expected that."

"You know him?"

He laughed again, "we all do."

"Come, we must not keep the prince waiting," Ella said, rolling her eyes at the man, "we'll be out of a job if we do."

"Your prince sounds awful," I added, following her out of the kitchen, "why do you work for him?"

She led me down a dimly lit hallway, portraits and armor displayed on the walls. A fur carpet trailed down the floor, tingling against my bare feet; they had not given me a chance to put on my shoes before they kidnapped me. The castle was something I had never seen before, a shrine for the wealthy and the high-class.

I didn't feel at home here.

"The prince is a good man," Ella corrected me, "it's the duke we fear."

"Who's the duke?"

"The prince's uncle. He controls our military."

"And the staff as well, I suppose?"

"Silence," she hushed, "we are here."

We stopped in front of two large oak doors, two guards standing direct on each side. I flinched when I saw their spears, but something told me they weren't here to hurt me.

"Do not address the prince unless he address you," the girl explained, "and bow when you see him."

"Is it mandatory?"

"Yes," she commanded, nodding at the two guards, "she's here."

They leaned their spears against the stone walls, pushing open the giant doors. A cold breeze washed over me as they did so, as I was welcomed into an seemingly endless room. A red carpet stretched from the door to the back of the hall, and a crowd of people stood around the sides.

They were all staring at me; some with disgust, and some with awe. I felt like an animal trapped in a cage for everyone to gawk at. Ella grabbed my hand, pushing me down the carpet, and nearing the end of the throne room. As I passed by murmurs erupted from the crowd, everyone speaking their opinion on me. We stopped in front of a large chair in the center, gold painted and embossed with the same Valor symbol at the top.

But that wasn't what caught my attention.

The prince was sitting on the throne, dressed in elaborate garments, his arms resting on both sides of the chair. I would have recognized those eyes from anywhere.

Timothée.