Frances Harris sat in the carriage with her family, a carriage that was sent from the castle to pick them up. She had been married to her husband Mr. Harris, for a good nineteen years, a marriage she was happy about even though the neighbourhood they lived in was in gentlee poverty.

Though she told herself to be content about what life had given her, she couldn't help but hope that her daughters would be married into a better house condition that what they were in. She had been looking outside the little oval window of the carriage when she heard her elder daughter Beth ask Madeline, her younger daughter,

"Why did you tie your hair?" Beth looked at her sister with a small frown.

"It is too windy today. I was worried where my hair would be all over the place. You know how hard it is to brush my hair again," Madeline smiled at her sister's words, "Do I look so bad?" she asked looking at herself from the reflection of the window.

"You look fine, Madeline. I just thought you looked better with your hair, half-open," replied Beth. Beth couldn't stop but make sure that she was looking good and Mrs. Harris could see the eagerness in her daughter's eyes.

One would think of her badly if they were to know that she often pushed Beth forward for marriage, but there was a reason for it. While Beth enjoyed the luxury being a rich man's wife, Madeline didn't share the same interest as her. Though Mrs. Harris would love nothing but have Madeline pursue her elder sister's footsteps, she didn't want to force it upon her.

Mrs. Harris had a sister who had been first in line for marriage. Her parents had given her hand to a wealthy man, but things had not gone well. In two years, her sister was found in the river as she had committed suicide. Unable to cope with the sudden changes of the living style. God forbid, she wouldn't want something like that to her daughters.

Beth was more ambitious when it came to placing herself a better man's attention on her. She wished to live in a mansion, buy expensive items and move in the high society. She craved and dreamt for it, and her mother noticed it.

Though the letter had not mentioned which daughter of theirs did the King fancy, Mrs. Harris had taken it was Beth as she had been dancing all night while Madeline had been the wallflower who wouldn't have taken the initiative to look for a dance.

"Now, girls. You know how to use your forks and knives, I presume?" asked Mrs. Harris for both the girls to nod their mother's question.

The carriage continued to ride the same distance and maybe a little faster than the carriage they had hired for the ball. Madeline's eyes traced the edges of the carriage from inside, noticing how the wood was carved and given importance like a door. The cushion they sat on was the softest they had ever had the pleasure to sit in, and it was much more spacious. It made her wonder how the King's own, personal carriage would be if the carriage they were using was like this.

When they finally arrived at the castle, the Harris' family stepped down from the carriage to stand in front of the castle's entrance. Now that it was day, one could tell that the castle was more prominent than they had seen during the time of night which was covered in shadows.

A servant man stood outside waiting for them, "Please follow me," the man bowed his head and started to walk inside the castle.

Madeline, who was walking behind with her sister Beth looked at the walls that were painted white in colour. The chandeliers continued to hang up in the ceiling, this time without lit candles. There were paintings up in the ceiling which Madeline had not realized during the Grand ball.

"How many people do you think live here," her mother whispered to her father who couldn't stop looking at the walls and their surrounding in awe. Madeline herself was surprised that the night they were here, she had failed to capture the beauty of the mansion.

As they continued to walk further and further inside the castle, Madeline noticed her mother, who had been speaking earlier now had turned quiet, her hand holding her father's hand as if for courage.

Madeline herself walked apprehensively, not knowing where exactly the servant was leading them.

They were finally taken to double doors of carved wood, that was pushed in for them to step inside the room.

"Please take your seat here and the King will see you soon," said the servant bowing his head and leaving the four of them alone in the room.

The door was soon pushed forward and in came a man who was tall and fairly good looking. He had brown hair that was combed to the side, his eyes red that had everyone look at him and they bowed.

"I am Theodore Chauncey, the King's close attendant," said the man with a polite smile, looking at each one of the Harris' family, "Please sit," he offered by waving his hand towards the chairs.

"Thank you, Mr. Chauncey," her father was the one to reply for the kindness offered to them and they moved to take their seats next to each other.

"I hope you didn't have any trouble on your way here," asked Mr. Chauncey and they all shook their head.

Mr. Harris said, "Thank you for sending the carriage for us. We had a pleasant ride."

"It's good to hear that you had a safe trip."

When the double door to the room opened again, Madeline who was sitting with her back facing against the door heard Mr. Chauncey say,

"Milord," she saw the man who was with them bend and she quickly turned around along with Beth to bow her head and offer her respect to the man.

Madeline spent a second more before she raised her head to look up at the person.

Her eyes had started from the expensive shoe that covered his feet that moved up to the sumptuous looking clothes that was on his body before her eyes fell on the man.

When Madeline had imagined about the King, she had thought about a man somewhere in his late forties but she should have known better.

This person here had his pitch-black hair was combed back, his cheekbones defined and his lips were pale pink in colour. His shoulders were broad that wasn't covered with a coat as she had imagined. Blood red eyes under his eyebrows that were looked as if they were slightly raised to demand attention while exuding the status that he owned.

When her eyes met his, there was something very dangerous that lurked in his eyes and he offered a charming smile.

The King was here.

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