It was a hell of a way to die. Not that I’d never died before, of course; No, this must’ve been the fifth or sixth time at least. But it was by far my favorite.

It all started on my sixteenth birthday, the day I would finally be coronated as the official princess of Macedalia, my kingdom. All growing up, I had been referred to as “Princess Marianne,” but I had never truly had any of the responsibility. I would now be taking over many duties that would ordinarily be preformed by the king and queen, and I would be declared of age to marry. Neither of these things were anticipated with much enthusiasm, at least not from me. Even marriage wasn’t anything for me to look forward to; I would simply be married off to some rich duke or count from a neighboring kingdom. Not that I minded much; after marriage, as is custom, my husband will move into my castle. Luckily, I can lose myself in our vast library for weeks without ever leaving or interacting with my groom.

“Marianne, for heaven’s sake, sit up straight.” My father’s voice broke through my thoughts. “You’re slouching like a commoner.” I raised my chin and straightened my spine, glancing down at my plate and pretending to be ashamed of my ‘_disgraceful behavior;_’ I knew it was the only way to get dear old dad off my back. Though suddenly I slouched again, not because I was being disrespectful, but because suddenly the weight of my body was too much for my bones to carry. My vision began to blur; I heard someone calling my name, but it seemed to be coming from far away, or from underwater. I saw the entirety of the guests at my birthday gala stand in what seemed to be alarm. And then everything. Went. _Black_.

I woke up back in my bedchambers what seemed to be only seconds later and sat up quickly, as there was a man in my bedroom. Not one of the castle staff, I was positive; though there were too many for me to keep track of, I’m sure I would remember this man if I had seen him before. He was young- he couldn’t be more than two years older than me. His posture was rigid, and his hand rested on the silver hilt of the sword tucked into his belt- no sheath. He looked like a soldier, icy blue eyes and a toned figure. But he wore simple clothing, rags barely held together by a few threads. And his hair… his hair was a steely grayish blue, with tints of purple and green. I couldn’t even tell the exact color, the way it shifted between hues. It reminded me of a marble I had seen in the castle artifacts room when I was younger. _Iridescent_, my mother had called it. And then she had spoken in low tones, as if she was telling me a secret. “you must never touch it, darling, or anything else in the artifacts room. Do you understand?” I had nodded vigorously, though I hadn’t understood. No matter how sweet my mother may seem, I knew never to test her patience.

Without warning the stranger moved forward, and I threw my hands up to protect my face on instinct, ducking my head and bracing for a blow. But it never came. Instead, I felt a hand over mine, pulling me out of bed and to my feet. I pulled the sheet along with me to cover my body, suddenly aware that I was only in my undergarments, the beautiful red gown I had worn to the ball draped over a chair by my door.

The man seemed to notice my plight and quickly turned away. I could no longer see his face, but the back of his neck was tinged pink.

“S-sorry,” he stuttered in a voice like honey, still unfiltered and full of the comb. My favorite kind. “I didn’t realize you were… erm… indecent. Go ahead and get dressed, and then we’ll leave. Wear something comfortable, it’s a long journey.”

Obediently, I began to move towards my enormous wardrobe and pick out a simple brown dress that I ordinarily wore when I went out riding. Still, I wasn’t sure who this individual was or what he wanted, so I tentatively called out from inside the closet; “Sir? I don’t mean to seem rude, but would you mind informing me exactly where I’m going?”

There was a beat of silence, then, “I can’t tell you. At least not yet; we have to be sure we can trust you first.”

“We?” I questioned as I pulled the dress on over my head and began tying the built-in whalebone corset.

“Another thing I can’t tell you.”

Though my heart had began beating rapidly and my palms had become slightly damp with sweat, my voice came even and calm. “Ah, I see.” Then my heart picked up again. I had never before gotten dressed alone, I’d always had the help of a maid or governess; it’s a wonder I made it this far. I took a deep breath. I wasn’t yet sure if I needed to care what this man thought of me; at the moment, however, I didn’t have much of a choice. I opened my mouth to ask the dreaded question, then closed it again. _Don’t be stupid. _I opened my mouth again, and this time words came, though slightly trembling. “Um… sir?”

“Yes?” The voice was inquisitive, and yet I somehow felt like it was an order, not a question.

“Well, you see, I’ve never… I can’t…”

“Out with it, we don’t have all day.” That was definitely an order.

“Would you mind… buttoning my dress? I’m really sorry, but I can’t reach it and I couldnt possibly wear it unbuttoned.”

“Oh.” This time the smooth voice sounded slightly relieved. “Of course. Shall I come in there or would you prefer coming out here?”

“Um…” I hesitated, glancing around and noticing a few undergarments and things laying around. “Don’t worry about it, I’ll come out there.” I took one more deep breath before stepping out of my closet and facing the stranger, noticing with relief and a bit of satisfaction that his cheeks were just as red as mine felt, despite how calm his voice sounded. Perhaps he had been presented with just as many opportunities to practice hiding his emotions as I had. I turned around and held my hair up so it didn’t get caught in the buttons. I felt his calloused knuckles brush my back as he pulled the two sides of the dress together, starting with the clasp at the top. It felt intimate, though I had met this man mere minutes ago. I didn’t even know his name, though I was sure he knew mine. I had the feeling that I shouldn’t trust him, especially not so quickly, and yet… I couldn’t help but trust him. My entire being screamed that I needed to run away, but for some strange reason, I couldn’t. Maybe it was the intrigue, or maybe it was because I just needed to get away, no matter where I went, away from this palace, away from my parents, away from the responsibilities. Just _Away_. And now I had that opportunity. If only I knew who was giving it to me.

“Am I allowed to ask your name, or is that classified as well?” I tried to add a humorous note to my voice to disguise my nerves.

“Desmond. But don’t tell anyone I told you that.”

I raised an eyebrow, though I knew he couldn’t see me. “Oh, so it _is_ classified?”

He sighed heavily as he fastened the last button, and I felt his hot breath on my neck. I shivered. I hoped he couldn’t tell. “Very classified.”

“So then why did you tell me? Couldn’t resist my charm, I suppose?” I turned to face the stranger- _Desmond. _He_ _smirked.

“Precisely. After all, who could resist a princess’s grace and humor?” I rolled my eyes. Somehow I already felt comfortable with him, comfortable enough to laugh and joke like I never had with even my own parents. Speaking of which…

“Wait a second, how are we going to get out without my parents or their guards noticing? In fact, how did you get in?” I inquired, suddenly bewildered at the fact that this perfect stranger had somehow gotten into the palace- into my _bedchambers_, no less! On one of the heavily guarded nights of the year. Suddenly Desmond looked down, avoiding my eyes.

“No time to explain. We have to get going.”

I nodded, too anxious to argue at the moment. “So how are we getting out of here?” I looked at him questioningly. He grinned at me and took my hand.

“Follow me.” And I did. He led me out the gold-rimmed glass doors to my balcony and unraveled the rope hanging in loops from his belt. I hadn’t noticed it before; it blended too well with his tattered clothing. He quickly tied one end to the balcony railing and threw the other over the edge. I leaned against the barrier and glanced over; it was over fifty meters to the ground. He glanced back at me. “Your hair,” he said simply.i raised an inquisitive eyebrow.

“What about it?” I asked, surprised at the defensive note in my voice. My bright red hair had always been a soft stop for me; though everyone was too scared to make fun of me for it, I knew that it looked strange against my fair complexion and dark brown eyes. He smiled a bit.

“It may get a bit… in the way.” He sounded apologetic. “Would you like me to braid it?” I was surprised at his offer, but once again turned around to give him access.

“You know how?” He laughed.

“I grew up with my mother and two sisters. I could braid before I could walk.” He was quick, tucking the auburn strands deftly together and pinning it on top of my head in a neat bun. When he finished, he moved to the railing. I glanced over. I didn’t know who he was. I didn’t know where we were going. But I knew this:

I was never coming back.

Author’s Note:

Contrary to what it seems, the story _does_ fit the prompt. The word count is too small to include the plot twist how I want it, and to add the full story, but this is chapter one of a novel I’m writing that fits the premise. I’ll be posting the full story on Inkitt @Romantasywriter (Gwen Shepherd) when it’s finished!!