Around noon, every last servant seemed to trickle out of the stables. The king would be making an announcement. About Tiffany’s engagement, the stable servants speculated. No wonder Noah had been looked at strange the entire morning.

She sighed and leaned her chin against the pitchfork she’d been using to fill the horses’ troughs. Finally, there was some peace and quiet in the stables. Finally she could hear herself think. Except, all of her thoughts seemed to gravitate towards the same subject. Tiffany. Poor Tiffany. All alone in her room in her tower. Perhaps Noah would row her dingy little boat back to her balcony tonight, use the massive rosebush for purchase and climb up and comfort her. Or hatch a plan to elope. Yes, that was what she would do.

But the stable servants were right. Whatever the king was going to announce, was most likely going to be about the princess, and it would be convenient to know exactly what was going on before she paid Tiffany a visit. Even though she really didn’t want to think about it.

With a frustrated groan, she stabbed the pitchfork into the bale of hay she was feeding to the horses and strode, where the the other servants had walked half an hour before, to the courtyard of the castle.

Hundreds of people stood shoulder to shoulder, pushing and jostling one another around a hastily put together, wooden stage. Only when Noah started to push her way through the crowds, it dawned upon her how her light blonde hair would stand out against the black and dark brown coiffures of the Capturians. Without a doubt, the king and queen would recognize her, but with a shaky breath, she decided she didn’t care about that. She was here for Tiffany, not for them. She fought herself towards the front of the crowd.

The crowd quieted down when the king and queen took the stage. They looked upset and Tiffany wasn’t there either. Noah’s hands grew clammy and her eyes darted around her. Where was Tiffany?

“Dear people of Capturia,” the king spoke in a buldering, solemn voice. “Last night, someone was taken from the queen and myself who is very dear to us. Our daughter, Princess Tiffany, has been abducted.”

The crowd collectively gasped, Noah among them.

This was her fault. She had been at her balcony that night. If she’d only just stayed a little longer, risks be damned, perhaps she could have prevented us.

“Dear people, we are at the end of our wits,” the king soldiered on. “The only clue we have is this note,” he said, holding the note high above his head.

Noah squinted to read it. Something clicked. The handwriting these scoundrels wrote the note in was simple, elegant and supremely legible. Noah had seen it before.

“Bringing back our little girl will not be a thankless job,” the queen said. “The one who returns Princess Tiffany to us safe and sound, may wish for one thing, anything at all, and we shall do everything in our power to grant it.”

With this knowledge, Noah started to push her way back out of the crowd. This was exactly the chance she and Tiffany needed. And as for the princess’ whereabouts, well, Noah had a hunch.