Darkness had descended on the city. The palace guard had just passed by the window
when a shadow departed from the shrubbery, and forced the window open then slipped
inside. Silently, the form thanked any and everyone for making it so easy to get into the
royal home. The shadow glided down the empty hallway and eventually came upon a
torch. For barely a second, the hooded face was illuminated, revealing the figure to be —.
She carefully pulled the torch from the wall and continued on faster than before. —
searched the scrupulously kept halls for what seemed to be an eternity before happening
on the door to the cellar. If her friends were any where, this would be it. The prince
wouldn’t chance having someone see the captives. The cellar was the only place no one
frequented. Suddenly, — heard the distinct ring of a guards boots on the highly polished
floor. She threw the torch out the window, then snatched hold of the door handle and
pulled. Nothing happened. She tried again, this time throwing every last ounce of her
being behind it, and it creaked open just enough for her to slip through. The guards
rounded the corner just after — yanked the door shut behind her.
— looked around her, or rather tried to. She found herself in complete darkness.
It was colder here than in the other parts of the palace. The walls were damp and cold.
the iciness seemed to cling to her, to settle into her very bones. — trembled slightly, in
fear and coldness. She pressed her hand against the wall and started feeling for a torch.
This soon led her to a set of steps. As she went down, the ringing of her boots echoed
from out of the emptiness. The further she went, the more nervous she became. As she
went to the brink of giving in to complete fear, her hand slid into a torch, unlit, but still a