That afternoon was spent devising a plan.

In order to keep unwanted gossip away from me, I would have to make sure that my excursions with Gavrila were very far away from prying eyes, perhaps in the dead of night. The issue would be that in the dead of night, I wouldn't have anyone to run to, should the Prince make a move. If I just got my hands on a discreet weapon...

In the meantime, I ought to observe the courtiers better. Take notes maybe...

That night I was filled with a drive, a hope, the likes of which I hadn't felt in months. My life had been worthless since returning to an empty home, but now I had a purpose.

I would surpass the Debutantes and their petty ambitions, I would learn to control the crown prince and the king above him. I would deliver justice to those bereaved from the war.

Except, as the week continued, that seemed to be less and less attainable.

For the following four days, I was confined entirely to my room. Neither Gavrila nor Henrietta visited me. Jemima stayed by my side, in all fairness, but she seemed still to harbour a fear of the upper class.

I wrote a few letters to Amelie, Perry, and Jon - whether they made it out the palace or not was debatable though. On the whole, I spent those days devising my plan of action.

I'd need time to better study the history of civil war and postwar civilization, but I was sure that I could bend the texts in favour of compensation for the people. I quizzed Jemima regularly on her knowledge of Roi Thomas, each time feeling less and less confident in Gavrila's chance for going over his head. There must be a way though. I would find a way.

On the third day, I tried to escape.

Well, escape sounds perhaps too adventurous. In reality, I investigated the chimney, which was bricked up; I tested the service corridor again, which was now inconveniently locked; and I went straight for the front door, where one of my two guards took me by the shoulders and pushed me back into the room. I yelled at them a little, but then found myself exhausted from the action, my body still healing.

On the fifth day, I received a rather sweet little note from the princess.

Sorry I've fallen out of contact (I'll explain soon). Meet us on the courtyard at 10.
I've done a little matchmaking!
- H xx

Jemima fretted again when I showed her the note. She too was kept in the dark about what I was or was not to be doing, so between us we decided on a black and gold day dress, in Ilragese fashion, which was flexible enough in case I would be riding today.

My hair was a knotted mess, so Jemima, who had learned shaky sign language whilst imprisoned with me, suggested we try the deathly straight Baracosian fashion. She sat me down at the vanity and I squeezed my eyes shut when she pinched my hair between two heated paddles. By the time she had finished, my light brown hair sat flatly over the top of my head, hanging like a tapestry by my cheeks. My maid forced some setting spray over it, then shyly asked for my opinion.

I didn't care for it, but appreciated her help.

The clock striking ten jolted me into action. A smug grin formed on my face as I presented the note to my jailers, zipping away from them, my cell room and captivity and out into the warm day.

The sun shone wonderfully down onto the courtyard, where the young court chattered among themselves, each Debutante equipped with a parasol to protect against the rare Beltrain sun. I felt a little relieved as I spotted that Annabelle Crawley and one other girl were wearing long skirted Ilragese dresses. The second girl had dark blonde hair, almost the colour of old hay, and soft features. Even from this distance, her resemblance to Lord Turner was obvious. She stood closely next to the great brute Kent, whose arm was protectively around her waist, as they chattered with Amber and Eric.

I found myself irritated that Eric was over there; he was one of the few I could happily speak with, but going anywhere near Kent was a death wish.

Instead, a bulky frame was approaching me. Before I could slip away, Andrey raised his hand in greeting.

He cleared the distance between us with an easy half smile on his face. The corners of his lips were turned down, but his eyes danced in a smile. Today, his hair was tied back into the stump of a tail at the back of his head, but a few strands had come out and brushed the side of his face. I noticed then that a fine scar ran from the edge of his left eye to his eyebrow.

If it isn't lady Bence. His large, elegant hands signed in greeting. Andrey used my sign name rather than fingerspelling Bence this time, even though I had never taught him it. I haven't seen you in a while.

Hesitatantly, I threw a glance to all the gathered court, before deciding not to tell him about how I had been kept locked up. "I still needed a little recovery time I suppose." Again, my eyes shot back over to Eric, who was separating from Amber to wave at me. "I'm mostly better now though, if you'll excuse-"

Your hair looks rather smart like that. Andrey interrupted, as though he knew that I was trying to avoid him.

"Nonsense, I look like a man." I brushed him off, trying to subtly look around his huge frame as the king, queen, Prince and princess paraded out.

Gently, Andrey took one of my hands. Sorry. Have I upset you? He clumsily tried to sign with one hand, the corners of his mouth now fully down, but the playfulness was gone from his eyes.

With a deep breath in, I forced a smile and shut my eyes. "No, no I'm sorry. Perhaps I'm just a little distracted. You're sweet." I had hoped that the compliment would give me leave to hide behind Henrietta but again, Andrey drew my attention back to him.

I'm glad. His eyes smiled again. Because you and I are sharing a boat.