Dahlia let her nimble fingers trace the leather bounds of books lined up on a shelf. She was once again in her old room at the palace. It felt surreal being back there. Home is what she used to call this room, but time changes everything and she was longing to go back to her real home. It wasn't a place. It's people. Her home was with Timothée and Nicholas. It was Adrian, Armie, and Kian who always cheered her up. The stone walls that surrounded her felt like a prison of her own creation.

She sat down on the end of her bed and placed her hands on her knees. Dahlia was drained by the day's events. She longed to turn back time to just hours ago where she was safely in Timothée's arms. Her face flushed at the thought of his confession. She reached up towards her lips and traced them. She was lost thinking of his eyes and didn't notice the abrupt opening of her door. Her father marched in and excused the guards, moving over to a chair by her fireplace.

"It's been a while, " He stretched his arms on the rests of the chair, "I suppose you've gotten close with those bothersome peasants."

"They're not bad." Her nose flared and her voice wavered.

"They're openly breaking the law," Edward grumbled while raising a cup to his mouth. Dahlia knew that it was most likely wine or rum and cringed at his daily habit.

"The law is wrong." Dahlia challenged him. He leaned forward and glared at her.

"What did you say?" Air blew through his nose like an enraged bull.

"Your people are starving! Guards are abusing their power and targeting the weak! It's chaos!" Dahlia stood up from the bed and approached her father, newfound confidence filling her veins.

"It's hard to run a Kingdom." Her fathered tried to sweep it under the carpet, but Dahlia was having none of it.

"So hard that you have to raise the price of food to a week's wage?" Dahlia's resentment for her father grew as each minute passed.

"What do you think pays for all this wine!" Her father joked as he raised his hands. The cup he held spilled some of the liquid on the stone ground, leaving a dark red puddle. Dahlia refused to answer him and give him the satisfaction of being annoyed. He realized she wouldn't speak further and decided to push her buttons more.

"You're close with that Timothée boy, " Edward saw Dahlia flinch at the mention of him and continued, "And don't try denying it either. I'm not a bloody fool. Only a girl can make a boy act like a fool and he's a damn idiot." Edward took another gulp of his wine and let out a hiccup.

"Is it wrong?" Dahlia's hands were clasped together and her eyes cast downwards.

"Prince Charlie is your betrothed and I'll hear no more of Timothée!" He tried to stand but stumbled back into the plush chair. He was heavily intoxicated.

"Timothée is more of a man than Prince Charlie!" Dahlia was okay if her father berated her, but speaking ill of Timothée crossed the line.

"How dare you speak to your father like that!"

"He's more of a man than you ever will be!" Dahlia spoke too soon and her father managed to get up. He strode across the room and suddenly she felt a sharp pain on her cheek. Edward had slapped her. The only sound you could hear was Dahlia's shriek of surprise. He held up his finger as a warning sign.

"You will marry Prince Charlie in a fortnight and gain his army. You will do your duty and give him heirs. Most of all, you will shut up and watch as I crush Timothée and his men." Edward marched out the door, face red and full of anger. Instead of reaching up to her lips like a lovestruck teen as she did minutes prior, Dahlia reached up and held her wounded cheek.

______________

Dahlia has spent the week sitting and looking out her window. She refused to eat most of the food that was given to her. The only time she left her room was to prepare things for the wedding. She couldn't help but feel hopeless as her maids stuffed her into another boring white dress. The long mirrors showed her an image that brought a bitter taste to her mouth.

Prince Charlie would occasionally come and visit her in her room, but Dahlia would ignore him or feign tiredness. She constantly wondered if Timothée was alright. If he was even coming for her. A servant walked into her room, placing a silver tray of food in front of her.

"For you, little flower." He muttered before scurrying out of the room. Dahlia knew those words. It was the nickname Adrian gave her. She reached out and pulled the cover off the food, only to see a small scroll of parchment. She opened the unknown seal.

Dear little flower,

Timothée and I have finally come up with an escape plan. Wait until night. There's a wine cell located in the kitchen. Go down the stairs and walk-in. We will be there. Don't worry, we have a plan to escape.

Timothée doesn't want anyone to know this, but he's been very distraught by your absence. I can tell he's changed back to his gloomy ways now that you're gone. I know your presence will soothe him again.

See you soon,
Adrian.

Dahlia couldn't tell if the contents of this letter were true. She had flashbacks to when her father tried to send in a rescue letter, but she snitched to Timothée. Even with the chance of this being false, Dahlia knew she had to try. So she sat and waited until the day blurred into the night before walking to her door. She slowly opened it, hoping that the creak wouldn't disturb anyone around her. She sees that the guards on duty have fallen asleep and she carefully slipped passed them.

Dahlia walked down the open halls. She had many encounters of almost running into guards, but was able to dodge them by hiding behind large pillars. She finally made it to the kitchen. The chefs were let off and the place was empty. She reached over to a counter and grabbed a candle, using it to guide her way to the stairs. She crept down them.

Making it to the floor, she cast her eyes around and saw a dark figure by some barrels. She could recognize the curls. It was her Timothée.

"Timothée? It's Dahlia." She whispered shouted.

"Dahlia..." She knew his voice but it sounded off. Like he was nervous and scared. She lit the large torch and saw the light cast on his face. He looked tired. He had dark circles under his eyes and his cheeks were slightly caved in. There was a bruise forming around his left eye. His hair was dishevelled but it was still him. It was still her Timothée. Dahlia, who was going to ask what happened, lost her voice as Timothée moved from hiding behind the barrels.

King Edward stood behind Timothée with his sword pointing towards the back of his neck. Guards marched in with Adrian in chains.

"You think you can fool me, eh?" Her father announced. Dahlia didn't answer, all she could do was look hopelessly into Timothée's eyes. "You think you can fool me!" It was no longer a question, but a shout of anger.

"Please... Please don't hurt them..." Dahlia could barely stand. She was terrified of what her father could do. The power he obtained becoming king long ago has driven him mad. Her arms wrapped around her waist.

"I won't," He grumbled, "At least not today." Edward sheathed his sword and shoved Timothée to the ground. Two guards shackled his hands together and tugged him up. Edward marched up to Dahlia and took hold of her bicep.

"Lock 'em up," Edward growled. He hated her and Dahlia knew it. She knew it was because she was a female. Her mother was only able to have one child, her, before dying. Since she wasn't a male, their family's assertion to the throne was threatened.

"I'll deal with my daughter." Edward dragged her away and up the stairs, leaving Timothée and Adrian behind.