Her brother's belligerent yelling was nothing new to Daphne. She knew how the next few minutes would play out. He'd sought her out while she was playing alone in the garden so that there would be no prying eyes. He would yell at her for a little while for whatever small offense she had caused- today it was that she had touched his new chess set without his permission- then he would demand some sort of apology from her. He never found her apologies satisfying, and then the beating would come. Her punishment for speaking insolently, or not apologizing with enough sincerity, or for not using the right words. No matter how hard she tried, she never could satisfy him.

Her parents never believed her when she told them that David hated her. They chided her for acting immature and reminded her that he was older than her by six years and that she must respect him. He always acted like a perfect angel in front of them, a loving brother who bought her gifts and treated her with affection. It was when they were away on a house party, or to see to business at another estate that his true nature came out. Complaining to her parents always ensured the next one would hurt ten times more.

Daphne had found that the best way was to let David run out of steam. She would transport herself far away to a place in her head while he did whatever he wished.

In her mind, she was a princess, locked in a grand castle guarded by an ogre. The ogre was a tyrant that tormented the princess, even though she tried not to attract any notice whenever he was around. The ogre liked to hurt the princess, but the princess was brave, and she did not let herself fear the ogre and his anger for she knew that her prince worked tirelessly to save her.

He would arrive soon and save-

David forced her out of her imagination with an assault he had never attempted before. His thick, grubby fingers closed around her neck. Fear set in as she saw his face red with rage, spit flying as he hurled a slew of words at her- words that she did not understand, but the disdain with which he said them told her they were grave insults.

She couldn't breathe.

She couldn't breathe.

She flailed her limbs but her brother's grip was unrelenting. Tears pooled in her eyes. She was going to die. 

At her age, Daphne had never really contemplated death, she'd always assumed she'd had years and years ahead of her. When her grandmother had gone on to her reward, everyone had assured her she had passed painlessly.

Nothing about the burning in her lungs was painless.

In her fantasies, the princess always triumphed over the ogre. Her prince came and rescued her, and he took her off into the sunset on his majestic white stallion. He married her and they lived happily ever after.

God, please send my prince to me.

Please.

Her vision was beginning to fail her, fading into blackness that crept in from the edges.

Perhaps her fantasies were destined to remain just that- make believe. In the real world, there were no princes, the ogre acted the angel in front of anyone the princess might turn to for help, and the princess was labeled a liar.

In reality, the ogre killed-

A sudden force jerked David back, sending air gushing back into her lungs, scrapping her throat painfully. The sun blinded her, her eyes shutting close so that she could not see what was happening, but she heard the rough, masculine voice yelling. Next, the sound of someone getting hit and then David groaning in pain. The next thing she knew was that she had been enveloped in strong hands and lifted from the floor.

She began to weep tears of relief. She tried to open her eyes but she could not see her savoir clearly through her tears.

"Oh, there, there, little one," he murmured, his deep voice reverberating through her body. She felt his hands softly wipe her tears away, and finally she saw him in all his glory. His blond hair glimmered like gold in the sunlight, the brown of his eyes reminded her of the coffee her father took every morning. "Don't cry. I will take care of you. I will take care of everything."

He was the most beautiful creature that Daphne had ever laid her eyes on. 

Her prince had finally arrived to rescue her, and he was no stranger at all. Why, he'd existed on the periphery of her life for as long as she could remember. He was the heir to the Earl of Pembroke- her father's oldest friend. "You needn't be frightened. I'll take care of everything."

"Lord Cassius?" She sniffled, peering at her prince with large, awestruck eyes. She'd never paid him much heed before, he was after all much older than she and he was never interested in attending tea parties with her dolls. She saw him as the boring older boy who did naught much of interest. He was always talking with her older cousins about boring things. "What are you doing here?"

He said nothing, his face set in a grim line. He walked through the main doors into the foyer of her home, setting her down but not releasing her hand. At the far end of the foyer, she saw her father directing the servants to take their luggage to their rooms. They must have arrived back home earlier than expected.

"No!" Daphne tugged on her prince's hand, making him stop short. "You can't tell him, he'll only think I'm telling tales. And it'll only make David angrier!"

"I told you I'd take care of everything, didn't I?" He gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. She nodded dubiously. "Then let me take care of it. Trust me. Go up to your room."

Oh, her poor foolish prince. It seemed he harbored the same fantasy as she did. He did not yet know that the truth would not work. The ogre was a master of manipulation, he could change his appearance on a dime. Her parents would never listen.

"I don't think-"

"Lady Daphne," he said firmly. "Trust me. Go back to the nursery and let me take care of it."

Another protest died on her lips when he gave her a reassuring smile accompanied by another squeeze of her hand.

How was she to deny him?

She would lay down her life if he merely asked.

She would give up the last piece of chocolate cake or lend him her favorite doll that she never shared with anyone.

She wouldn't even mind if he ruined the doll's dress.

So she obediently dashed upstairs while her father was busy giving instructions to the staff.

And then she waited, and waited, and waited-until the waiting became very boring so she found something to occupy her.

She began to plan her wedding. Her groom? Lord Cassius Godwin, of course. It was a foregone conclusion, her wisdom accumulated over the seven long years of her life told her that simply no one else would do.

She'd already gotten to the decor of her future bedroom – a sophisticated lavender- when the door to her nursery creaked open. Her stomach dropped as she saw both her parents in the doorway, looking grim and serious. Oh, she had known it. Poor Cassius, he must have tried his best, it wasn't his fault her parents never saw anything that David did. She would be in trouble now.

Her papa knelt down, put his finger beneath her chin, and silently tipped her chin upward. A ragged sound escaped him, her mother fell to her knees, engulfed Daphne in her arms, and began to weep.

"Mama? What's wrong? Is someone dead?" Daphne asked, confused by her mother's reaction. Her mother drew back and pressed kisses to her face.

"Nothing at all, poppet. Mama just missed you very much," her mother caressed her face. "We love you, Daphne."

"I love you," Daphne said sincerely, she gestured to her little table set with dolls. "Shall I pour you some tea?"

"No, sweet. Papa and I must deal with something very important. Would you like to go and stay with Lady Pembroke for the week?"

"Oh, yes!" Daphne beamed in delight. Lady Pembroke was beautiful, funny, always smiling and she always bought Daphne sweets. Daphne adored her. And an entire week with her prince? She could never say no.

And when Daphne returned home, she found out that her parents had sent David away to live with their uncle in Edinburgh; far, far away from their home in London. She could hardly believe it. 

Her prince had rescued her and had defeated the ogre, after all.

She would love him to the end of her days.