The young man darted into a room. He scrambled around hastily to shut the door and pressed his back to it. As soon as he did, he heard several women screaming at him, startled by his sudden entrance into their room. His brown eyes looked about the room in a panic, quickly assessing he was in a group bedroom for maids and servants, at least five of them. He yelped and huddled into a ball on the floor with his knees to his chest, his hands covering his head tightly, and his eyes shut firmly.

“Pl-please don't hurt me! I just,” he stammered over their shouting.

One woman more composed than the rest waved her hands up for her roommates to silence as she approached him.

He was trembling on the floor and didn't move.

As the girls quieted down, the woman pressed her ear the door to listen out into the hallway. Verily the sounds of knights and servants scuttling about the hall echoed into the bedroom. She pressed a finger to her lips as she turned her head to show the symbol of quiet to her roommates. Then she turned her fingers and effortlessly locked the door through the knob and then the chain link above.

She took a halfstep back from the young man, taking in his appearance as he remained quiet and trembling still. He hadn't moved from his crouched position. She took in his style of clothes and immediately opened her lips, “You're the emissary? The prince of the neighboring kingdom?” She spoke in a soft tone of voice so it wouldn't echo out into the hall.

The maids behind her whispered to each other uncertainly. “What's he doing in here?” “Why did he run in here?” “Shouldn't he be meeting with His Majesty right now?”

She waved her hand to silence them, but they continued to speak softly amongst themselves.

“Are you hurt, sire?” she asked.

Cautiously, the young man loosened the tight ball he'd curled himself into. His hands released their grip on the back of his cherry colored hair as his eyes scanned up to the maid's face. “He... He... He didn't hurt me. No.”

She knelt down to his level. “Then why the cause for the rush and commotion?”

“He...” The young man snuggled his face back into his knees tightly once more. “He wasn't the prince I was supposed to meet with.”

“Uh oh,” echoed the sounds out of a few of the maids. “His Majesty never likes hearing that.”

The woman sent a glare back to them, enough that the girls just took a step back and quieted down. “Tis true. I assume His Majesty hearing such a claim caused great unrest in your...meeting?”

“What meeting? There was no meeting!” The prince stammered, his eyes wide like he'd spotted something horrifying. “That implies an equal exchange of words.” He shook his head. “He was so insulted to hear I couldn't even discuss the matter with him.”

She took in a silent breath that she then exhaled through her nose as a sigh. “You were supposed to meet with the elder of the princes then, yes?”

“I guess?” The prince shook his head. “Dark hair and green eyes.”

She lifted her hand to her lips. “I'm afraid to tell you that describes both.”

“Tall?”

She mused softly. “I regret to tell you that His Majesty, the one you've thought to meet with, is not receiving any guests at present, emissary or no.”

“But – he's the one I have to meet with!”

Again she made a soft sound in her throat, this time as she straightened up. “If you can behave, we can try to assist you to see him tonight.”

“Really?” He uncurled right away, his entire body language showing his full interest in her prospect.

“It'll require a change of wardrobe, of course,” she pointed to his rather princely travel outfit. “Anything that'll give you away to the guards, you see, you can't wear. And, a bit of... climbing.”

“I'll do anything!” He got up onto his knees with his fists clenched. “Please!”

Within several minutes, the young prince was stripped of his clothes and changed into a pair of plain cream slacks that itched his skin and a light cotton tunic that was somewhat softer, but just barely. The ladies stripped him of his jewelry, rings and earrings and all, and made sure he stood shoeless.

The initial tall maid ruffled his hair to a rife mess and then guided him out in the corridor with one other maid. “Gather the piece of cake and we'll meet you at the window.”

“Yes ma'am,” the maid nodded.

And the two groups parted. The maid and the prince went left down the hall, a direction he wasn't familiar with. The smooth polished floor felt cold against his feet as the dark of night had set in already and these areas were obviously heated just barely during this time of day. They passed several knights and servants performing duties who paid the couple no mind.

Within a short amount of time they stood at a window with a transom window propped open to let in the fresh air. The prince looked about nervously as they stood and waited just a few seconds before the other maid appeared. She held up a small little parcel wrapped in a thick cord.

“Here,” she said kindly.

The other maid took the parcel from her and handed it to the prince. “Wrist please.” Confused, the prince held up his wrist and watched as the maid tied the light parcel to his arm. “You'll need to carry this up to His Majesty.” She pointed to the window they stood at. Just outside it, was a wooden trellis with some vines growing up it. “Climb this to the next floor. The window at the balcony will be open, but getting onto the balcony will be tricky. From there, in the hall, go left and open the first door on your right.”

“Wait, why can't I take some stairs?” The prince asked.

“To do so would pass His Majesty, whom which you just ran from, and he would surely recognize you even in this rather plain attire.” She shook her head. “Knock on the door and introduce yourself that you have His Majesty's cake.”

“And he'll let me in just like that?”

“Certainly.” She nodded.

“Be quiet about it.” the other maid added. “The few times we've had to go up this way, if we make too much noise, we're discovered.”

The prince looked slowly from one maid to the other. “Is he... not allowed this cake?” The two giggled.

“Put simply, his brother will steal it,” answered the maid who had delivered the cake.

“It's a point of contest between them.” sighed the first. She opened the window out onto the narrow balcony.

Nervously, the prince took a tentative step outside onto the cold stone of the mansion. The cold of the night sent chills through his body, and the gentle wind sliced through the thin cotton clothes he wore. He took in a breath to steady himself, and hopefully warm himself some, before he stepped completely out.

Once onto the balcony, he gave the two maids a nervous look, then faced the trellis. It was hard to see in the dark. Carefully he stretched out his hands and tried to find some pieces of horizontal wood within the vine just at his shoulder height. As his fingers wrapped around the wood, a sense of danger went across his being. It was far thinner and more delicate than he'd thought could support his weight.

Oh dear. He trembled.

He took the step closer and propped one foot up onto a piece of the thin wood. He winced as he swore he heard the wood slightly crack. He exhaled his breath, hoping that'd make him lighter, and pulled his body up with his right arm first. He dangled one leg free from the trellis as he eased his weight up.

The process was slow. Each movement upwards made him terrified the wood would break and he'd fall down. After a few minutes, he glanced up to see if he could judge from below where he was.

The mansion floors were taller than he thought and his heart sank. He still had at least the length of his body height to climb up before he'd even be close enough to reach the stone of the narrow balcony. It didn't even look like a balcony from here; just a narrow bit of stone enough for half a foot to stand on.

When he was just close enough, the prince reached out his hand to see if he could feel what the top of the stone felt like. It made him nervous right away that he'd lose balance and he clung to the trellis right away. He shut his eyes tight and shivered in the cold.

You can do this. This is what you came here for!

He slowly opened his eyes, and went another small distance up. Once more he reached carefully for the stone. Nope. He took a breath, and climbed up another section. His fingers gently brushed what felt like a metal bar of some sort. Surprised and relieved, he let out a sudden breath.

The distance to the bar involved the prince having to twist his body around. With one hand firmly holding the metal bar and his other on the trellis, he eased his legs up another section. Then he dared to try and grab his hands onto the bar. Instant regret set in as his balance was suddenly off. The stone of the narrow balcony pressed to his forearms painfully as he pulled himself up. He struggled to keep his legs even underneath him. Once he felt still enough, he reached his right arm forward and grabbed another metal bar. He exhaled as he found one, and then pulled himself up. It took a few tries at swinging his legs to the side to reach the balcony with his feet. His left hand began to tire and threatened to release. Tears welled up in his eyes as he tried to swing his feet once more. Painfully his foot hooked around by his toes onto a metal bar. Steady, although in pain, the prince struggled to pull himself up.

As he got farther up, he noticed there was a horizontal bar higher up that he could grab to ease himself to standing. It took a bit of effort, and he dared not stand. He remained crouching as he carefully eased his weight upright enough to his hips, to just swing over the edge of the metal and to the window. Thankfully it was open a crack, and it took no effort to pull open.

Once inside, this hallway felt far warmer than the one below, and by comparison to outdoors, the prince felt like he was broiling. He took in several breaths to try and calm himself and re-regulate to the temperature difference, but it didn't help. He blinked his eyes a few times uneasily. Although it was rather dim, he was seeing white sparkles in his vision.

That was a lot tougher than I thought it'd be.

He took a moment to examine the parcel tied to his wrist. It remained remarkably in tact but he doubted if its contents were unharmed. He took a second to untie the parcel from his wrist and then held it gingerly in his hands. Then he turned his attention the hallway.

Which... way?

He looked left and then right.

Both sides of the hallway appeared identical. He took a careful step toward the right, then paused when he saw the very top banister of the staircase.

I'd have to pass the prince I'm avoiding if I came up the stairs. He backstepped a few steps, turned around to go left, and took quiet steps along the cold floor to the first door. He studied the door up and down, spotting a soft orange glow on the floor from inside.

The prince shut his eyes, faced the door entirely, and let out a soft breath, all in an effort to compose himself. Then he lifted his right hand and knocked on the door a few times.

“Yes?”

Suddenly his back went numb as he straightened up, unused to being called upon as if he were a servant. Crap! What do they say!? “I've brought your request, sire.” That's too vague! He cursed himself.

“Come on in.”

The prince opened the door and took a few steps in, then shut the door behind him. Then he turned to face the warmly lit room. Right in front of him a short distance was a sizeable table with several kids of differing ages and genders sitting around it with books and papers in front of them. It looked like some form of studying group. Sitting the farthest from the door was the prince – a young man that had black hair as shiny as tar and comforting green eyes – that just lifted up to look at the servant at the door. Without speaking to the prince at the door, he lifted his hand high into the air and gestured for him to come over.

His back felt numb all over, but now it spread to his toes and fingers. Was the climb too hard? The prince took quiet steps around the table over the seated prince. The young man stood up, revealing his height to be at least a head taller than the young prince dressed in itchy ugly cotton.

“Thank you,” he reached out.

Enraptured by the prince's face, the young prince handed him the parcel. It's as if his eyes are smiling at me.

The prince looked over the young man, “You must've had an interesting adventure up here?” He chuckled as he went back to his seat.

The prince was at a loss for words. He could tell that oddly enough that hadn't been a real question wanting an answer, and yet he felt the desire to answer it strongly in his gut.

“Hey,” the prince scolded the kid next to him as he sat down and put the parcel in front him. “Don't skip questions just cause you can't understand them.”

“But I'm tired!” whined the girl.

As am I! protested the young prince. He opened his mouth to say it aloud as the prince opened the parcel to look at his cake. He didn't seem bothered by whatever condition it was in.

Just as quickly, no sound came out of the young prince's lips. The exhaustion of climbing the trellis and getting up onto the balcony ganged up on him right as he realized he'd locked his knees out of nervousness of meeting the prince finally.

As he passed out, falling to the floor, all the young prince could see before the black enveloped his sight, was the impression of those soft green eyes.

The prince I had traveled here to meet – yes – it was this one.