"Jules, you're a nice man but I swear to God I'll knock you down if you don't let me out of this room." I roared as my valet leaned casually against the door.

Jules shrugged nonchalantly. "I apologise, petit fil, but I have my orders."

"No." I yelled back, stamping my foot in anger. One of my cufflinks flew off. "I have to see him right now. My brother is in danger and my throne is about to fall to the single worst man I have ever met." In an instant I lunged for the door behind him, and in the next instant I was pinned to the ground beneath him.

"Petit fil," Jules smiled down at me, "your brother is in danger from you, from his majesty. Your throne will fall back to you, and to petite fille Henrietta. Now I can arrange an audience with the king, but you must stay here and promise to break no doors down. Oui, Prince?"

"Fine." I spat against the carpet.

Jules released me, locking the door behind him as he left. Even though there was no one left to protest to, I stayed pressed against the carpet. The enormity of what I just read weighed me down.

Howard Kent. His name brought bile into my throat.

I waited at least half an hour, ripping out a page of each book on the shelf for every minute the king kept me waiting. When he finally squeezed through the door, his posse of caretakers around him, Thomas looked at me and sighed.

"We treat you nicely here, étranger, and yet you still deface my books." The Golden king sat down on one of the hard leather armchairs.

I ripped out another page, for good measure. "You won't let me outside my room at my will. You're forcing me to marry your freak of a daughter."

Thomas chuckled, shrugging,  "You tried to kill me. You are a criminal. Would you rather we treat you as such?"

"You already are 'treating me as such'." I mocked his accent, staring out the window onto the snow covered courtyard. Henrietta glided over it, ladies in tow like ducklings. She wasn't human, more like a hoverfly. "You know what is wrong with the princess? I swear she's not human."

Thomas sighed, waving to one of his guards. "Arrange for the guillotine to be out tonight. After the party yes?"

"No no no." I hastened towards him, only to run into almost seven feet of pure muscle. Carefully, I walked back. But he wouldn't actually do it. He needs me. My lips curved upwards. "The guillotine? Oh please you would've killed me the night I got here if you wanted me dead."

The king laughed loudly, taking a cup of coffee from Jules. "You may threaten my life, étranger, as you are a useful asset, but speak one word against my daughter and you will regret it. Now, why did you bring me here?"

Whilst I wanted to throw back some smart remark, I focused my mind on the task at hand, and sat down. "I received a letter just now from my friend. There's a plot against my brother, against me if I came back into power, and against you if you helped me take power."

The king smirked again, his mind clearly clouded by his own big headedness. "And what plot is this?"

"I don't know." I leapt back to my feet again. "Tristan, my friend, said that Lord Kent is behind it, he's this really powerful noble with two insufferable children and -"

"So what is his plan, étranger, please do hurry up?"

"I don't know what it is which is why when my friend gets here you need to welcome him and let him explain. Then we need to save my brother."

The king barked a laugh again. "We do not need to save your brother. We need to take his throne."

"Alright fine." I fired back, exasperated get again, thinking all the atrocities which would happen to my country if we didn't stop the Kents. "But you have to take Tristan under your protection when he gets here, alright? Please."

"This...Tristan." The king stood up, waving his hand airily. "He is tall?"

I shook my head, sitting down and rebuttoning my boot, which had slipped loose. "Not really, more so than me though."

"Blond?"

"Sort of."

"Ah yes it's more of a dark blond isn't it." The king nodded to himself. "Like old hay."

How the hell did he know that?

The king held my gaze silently, his facade impenetrable.

"Petit fil..." Jules began, gesturing for me to sit. I did so, if only because my legs wouldn't hold me. "Someone snuck into the palace in the early hours this morning. Normally his majesty doesn't take kindly to intruders. He was shot on sight, left with the letter he never sent to you and a cluster of your clumsy Ilragese weapons. He is dead."

My chest collapsed in on itself. He was my oldest friend. We were together since babies, the tiniest babies. He was always there.

But if he was gone...

"How the hell are we going to stop the Kents now?" I spat, anger being the only thing to fend off grief.

The king laughed, sipping at his coffee. "Oh we have far more pressing things at hand, dear boy. Such as your imminent proposal. My wife gave you the ring, I believe?"

"Now is not the time for celebrations!" I shouted, taking the ring out of my pocket and throwing it to his feet. "My best friend has just been killed. Someone is about to kill my brother."

"Gavrila." The king stood up, all of his guards jumped to attention at his side. "You must lose all people of sentimental value. Become a new man. You are King of Ilragorn and that is it. You will dance with my daughter at the party. When I call for silence,you will get down on one knee and present that ring to her. You will tell us how to overthrow your brother or whoever may be on Ilragorn's throne and you will do as I say. Get your act together, étranger, I will not have people think I am giving my daughter away to a time bomb."