“Sorry, Sir Benedict.” Genevieve responded lightly. “I told you when we started these dance lessons, I’m dreadfully awful.”

“Oh no, my Lady, you’re just new to the dance. Believe me, I’ve seen much worse.”

Genevieve found this hard to believe. She had been to other Balls before, and had seen Princesses from other Kingdoms dance. They all moved with such grace, as though their feet did not even touch the glossy floors. How she wished she could dance like them, like a goddess.

At that moment, Genevieve took one too many steps, crunching Sir Benedict’s foot through his leather dancing shoes. She then proceeded to fall not so gracefully to the cold, hard marble floor.

Sir Benedict bit his lip and whimpered through them “I think we’ve done enough dancing today, my Lady.”

Genevieve silently agreed with a nod, and grabbed Sir Benedict’s hand to lift herself off of the floor.

“Allow me escort you back to your chamber, my Lady.” Sir Benedict offered after Genevieve had brushed most of the dust off of herself.

“Here we are, my Lady. Until tomorrow,” Sir Benedict said with a bow. Genevieve nodded her head in return, and opened the solid wooden door to her bedchamber.

“Poor Benedict,” she thought “I hope his foot is ok. These heels should be considered weapons,”.

She felt herself jump slightly when she saw a man in her chamber, laying on her bed. He obviously heard her start, and blinked his eyes open.

“Hello, there!” He said brightly, as he sat up.

“Hello,” Genevieve said in response, taking a step backwards. Who was this man lounging on her bed, and who was he to address her so informally?

“You won’t tell Matilda that I was slacking, will you?” He asked in a slightly playful tone.

Genevieve stared at him for a moment, then began to comprehend what was happening. Matilda was the Head Servant of the castle. He must be a new servant.

“Well, you’re new here, so I suppose I won’t.” Genevieve said mercifully. She wouldn’t have told anyone, even if he hadn’t asked. She wasn’t one to get servants into trouble, she assumed that their lives were bad enough.

“Thanks,” the servant man smiled, still sitting on the bed. “So, you’re Princess Genevieve, huh?”

Genevieve was yet again shocked by his informality. “Yes,” she responded as she took a couple more steps into the chamber, towards the bed. “And you are…?”

“Oliver. My mates call me Ollie, you can call me that too.” He said with a smirk, as he fondled with one of the little glass angels that had been on her nightstand. When Genevieve sat down next to him on the bed, he asked “Can I call you Eve?”

Genevieve felt as though he had crossed the line, but she kept her temper. “Well, I don’t think that’s very respectful to me.” she said in a tight voice. “So, I must say no.”

Oliver chuckled gently. “Of course. How foolish a question!” He flipped his auburn curls out of his gentle, brown eyes. “Well, I should go. I’m supposed to hang the laundry. Goodbye, Princess!”

He stood abruptly as he bid Genevieve farewell, and left the chamber. Genevieve sat on the bed, still in a slight daze from her first meeting with the strange servant man.

Night.

All the kingdom’s asleep, peacefully floating in their own minds, tuning out the cold world surrounding their slumbering selves.

All except for Princess Genevieve. She laid in her warm bed, piled high with beautiful quilts, unable to reach the sweet, calm Eden which she yearned for. Her mind was racing.

She couldn’t stop herself from thinking about the servant boy.

What was so special about him, anyways? It couldn’t have been his looks. Sure, his big brown eyes were rather attractive, and his bouncy curls were slightly to her taste, and his physique wasn’t too bad, and his cheeks were so…

Okay, so maybe it was his looks. But that couldn’t be the whole reason.

Genevieve shifted under the quilts, and flipped onto her stomach. She pulled her arms up over her head and rested her cheek on her hands.

“Damned boy,” she whispered into her pillow. “keeping me up all night. I’m going to be a troll tomorrow morning.”

Genevieve huffed, and continued to ruminate about Oliver, the insolent, yet perplexingly attractive servant man.

“Just a little more, my Lady!” the servant woman, Elizabeth, promised, as she pulled the strings that tightened the stomach area on Genevieve’s ball gown.

“One more time, dear! Breath in!” Elizabeth said.

Genevieve sucked her stomach in, and held her breath. Elizabeth tugged forcefully on the lacy chords that intertwined down the back of the dress, and she quickly knotted it. She then hastily fastened a golden clasp at the top, which was shaped like a water lily.

“There we are, my Lady! All fastened! Oh my, don’t you look gorgeous!”

Genevieve smiled weakly and said “Thank you,” in a constrained voice. The dress, although it was extremely beautiful, made her feel sick as it squashed her chest and stomach. She had an average body, unlike many skeletal princesses from other kingdoms. This dress definitely did not accommodate for her curvaceous figure.

Genevieve took a step, and the cold stone floor sent a small shiver up her spine.

“Oh, let me get your shoes, dear.” Elizabeth said. As Elizabeth left the chamber, another servant woman came in, her worn hands grasping golden hair clips and a comb.

“Let me fix your hair, my Lady.” the new servant woman insisted. Genevieve nodded as she sat on the small stool in front of the fire place.

While the servant woman combed her hair, the door to her chamber opened, and someone entered the room.

“Golden shoes of the princess!” they announced rowdily.

Although Genevieve was not facing the door, she knew who had entered.

Oliver.

“Well, well! Look at you!” Oliver smirked in his same, playful voice. “A right princess! Better actually. Not all princesses have such lovely faces to grace their gowns.”

“Oliver! Clear off! You shan’t speak to the Princess in such a manner!” the servant woman scolded. “I’m so sorry for his discourtesy, Lady Genevieve!”

“Oh, it’s alright,” Genevieve responded with composure to the servant woman. “Just leave my shoes by the door, Oliver.” she directed.

Oliver sauntered over to Genevieve, and stood directly in front of her.

“Well, Princess, I was ordered by Elizabeth to assist you in putting on your shoes.” He said, looking down at her with his tender, smiling eyes.

Genevieve sighed. “Alright, I suppose.”

Oliver grinned and knelt down. He swiftly unfastened the golden rose clasps on the sides of the heels, and slipped one on to her foot, then the other. He stood up and admired them.

“Fit for a Queen.” He said proudly, taking a step back.

Genevieve nodded. “Well, they best be fit for a Queen. Once I find a suitable husband at the ball tonight, I’ll be one step closer to my crown.” she explained.

Oliver was quiet for a moment, as though he was still trying to comprehend what he had just heard. He then said “Well, of course.” Genevieve saw the smile slowly fading from his eyes. “I wish you the best of fortunes, Princess, in finding you, er, Prince.”

He nodded gently, and quickly left the chamber.

Genevieve turned to watch him leave, despite the servant woman’s efforts to keep her head still.

“What a peculiar man he is.” Genevieve thought as the servant woman tugged at her thick, blonde hair. She couldn’t help but picture in her mind those deep brown eyes, and how they seemed to frown at her when she mentioned the ball.

But no matter. She had more important things to focus on than Oliver. Her and her Kingdom’s future depended on this night.

Oliver scanned the area around him cunningly. When he felt that no one was looking, he slyly popped one of the hors d’oeuvres on the silver platter he carried into his mouth. He leaned against the back wall of the ballroom, dressed in a white button-down shirt, fringed with a lacy (not to mention itchy) fabric, and black trousers. Matilda had asked him to be a ‘platter carrier’ tonight, which he wasn’t very thrilled to do.

As he chewed the hors d’oeuvre, he surveyed the ball room. Standing off to his right were a group of strait-laced ‘gentlemen’ who were chattering on about their homelands. In front of him were prissy woman in their extravagant ball gowns, waiting to be asked by a man to dance. Oliver smirked at them and how foolish they looked. They were trying so hard to attract the attention of those idiotic men, who didn’t even notice their presences. Every gentleman in the room that night shared one goal; to capture Princess Genevieve’s heart.

Oliver then glanced up to the front of the ball room. There were magnificent white marble stairs which framed the opposite side of the room, which connected to a hanging balcony. The railings were draped in golden and purple textiles, which added a soft, elegant touch to the cold stairs.

Standing close to the railing on the balcony, Oliver saw, was Genevieve. Her hair was clipped back from her face, and she wore a pure white strapless ball gown that just barely touched the floor. Even though he was very far away, Oliver could clearly see the diadem of diamonds on her head, and the gold and diamond necklace hung around her neck.

Oliver felt his heart sink into his stomach. He didn’t think that he could handle watching Genevieve fall for some man who would never really love her like he did. In his mind, he pictured himself running across the ball room, and up the marble stairs to Genevieve. He would get down on one knee, and profess that he had loved her ever since the first time he laid eyes on her. Genevieve would smile and tell him that she loved him too, and they would kiss romantically, while beautiful music swelled around them.

But that fantasy would never become reality, Oliver confessed to himself silently. Genevieve had absolutely no interest in him. She didn’t even consider him a acquaintance. He was a servant. She was a Princess. Their worlds put them so close together, but their titles kept them so far apart.

“Oh, he’s handsome.” Alexandria pointed down at a man standing on the ballroom floor below them. Genevieve looked over at him.

“Not really,” Genevieve sighed. She hadn’t spotted a man who was really to her liking yet. All of the men Alexandria had pointed out to her looked the same; uptight and stuck-up.

“What is your problem tonight, Eve?” Alexandria said exasperatedly. “You haven’t even considered any of the men I’ve pointed out for you!”

Genevieve huffed “Well, I just don’t like any of them so far! Is that such a crime?”

Alexandria stared at her. “It’s your ball! So, yes, it is a crime!”

“Oh, well then, excuse me for not throwing myself at every damned man I see!”

Alexandria was quiet for a moment. “I’m sorry, Eve. But I just don’t understand how you don’t see even one man you fancy! Is something wrong?”

Genevieve folded her hands on the railing, and gazed across the ball room. “No,” she said in a hushed tone.

It was then that she spotted Oliver.

He was leaning up against the far wall opposite her, holding a silver platter at shoulder height. Genevieve felt her jaw drop slightly. What was he doing here?

“Eve?” Alexandria said, as she waved her hand in front of Genevieve’s face. “Hello? Are you there?”

Genevieve shook her head slightly, and stood up properly again. “Hmm?” She said, still staring at Oliver, as he popped another hors d’oeuvre into his mouth.

“What are you looking at?” Alexandria questioned. “Did you spot someone you like? Which one is he?”

Genevieve finally turned towards Alexandria. “What? I wasn’t staring at anything.”

“Oh, don’t give me that! Which one is he? Tell me!” Alexandria nudged Genevieve roughly.

“No one! I wasn’t looking at anyone!” Genevieve said defensively.

“Come on, Eve! He can’t be that bad! It’s not like he’s a… a servant or anything!”

Genevieve froze with shock. She looked down at her feet, and bit her lip.

Alexandria took a step towards her, and said “You have to be kidding me!”

Genevieve continued to stare at her golden shoes, and shook her head. Warm tears began to swell behind her eyes.

“Eve!” Alexandria said as she put her hands on Genevieve’s shoulders. “You’re not… in love with him, are you?”

Genevieve felt a tear escape. She stared at Alexandria right in her eyes, silently confirming her question.

“Oh, god!” Alexandria huffed, as she pulled Genevieve towards the back wall, out of anyone else’s hearing range. She then said softly “You can’t fall for a servant! You just… can’t! You’re supposed to marry a noble man! Someone who’ll be able to rule as King one day!””

Genevieve brushed her nose with the back of her hand. “I know.” She whispered, as she attempted to compose herself. “I’m just really… confused. I think I love him, but I know I can’t.”

“Well,” Alexandria said “I know you don’t want to hear this, but you need to put your wants behind the Kingdom’s needs.”

Genevieve wiped her face again. She felt her heart crumbling to pieces inside her, and her head felt strangely heavy. “I know.” she sighed. “You’re right. Come on, then.” Genevieve wiped her face once more, then headed towards the stairs. “I’m going to go dance.” Genevieve said over her shoulder to Alexandria.

Alexandria waved and said “I’ll watch you from up here! Just forget about him, Eve!”

With that comment, Genevieve stopped. “Wait,” She said, slowly turning around. “Would you do me a huge favor?” She asked Alexandria.

“Of course.” Alexandria responded.

“Would you keep an eye on him for me, the servant man?” Genevieve pleaded.

“Wait, you want me to keep him away from you?” Alexandria pondered.
“Yes,” Eve said, glancing over at Oliver.

“Alright, I’ll do it. Which one is he?” Alexandria asked as she turned to look out over the railing.

“The tall one with the curly auburn hair, carrying the silver platter.” Genevieve said as she pointed informally. “Thank you so much, again, Alexandria!”

“Anything for you, Eve. Have fun, alright?”

“I’ll try.” Genevieve said with a small smile, as she began to tread down the stairs.

The ball room looked even bigger on the ground. Genevieve felt slightly overwhelmed as she began to weave through the crowd of Lords, Princes, Duchesses, and Countesses. Many of the men glanced at her, and many more greeted her with things like “Good evening, Princess!” and “Lovely to see you, my Lady!”. Genevieve sent to them her ‘Princess smile’ and continued on.

When she reached a slightly more open area, she stopped walking. She clasped her hands in front of herself, and swayed slightly as she searched the floor for Alexandria. She finally spotted Alexandria near the buffet table, holding a glass of wine. Alexandria waved and motioned for Genevieve to carry on. Genevieve nodded and looked away. Alexandria had everything under control, for now at least. Genevieve’s next plan of action was to find a suitable man to dance with.

She felt as though she was doomed.

Then, a tall, thin man with blonde hair approached her.

“Good evening, Princess.” He said in a suave, satiny tone. Genevieve felt herself smile slightly, and she nodded gently.

“Let me introduce myself, my name is Sir Gregory, son of the Great Duke of Cormwell.” He said, as he took Genevieve’s hand. Genevieve froze, but continued to smile senselessly at him.

Shortly after Gregory introduced himself, the Ball Band began to play a new song. Genevieve immediately recognized the tune. It was the Ballroom waltz which Sir Benedict had attempted to teach her two weeks ago. “Please, please don’t ask me to dance!” Genevieve pleaded in her mind.

“May I have this dance?” Gregory requested, pulling up both of her hands. Genevieve nodded against her will, and followed Gregory onto the dance floor.

Oliver turned to look at the silver platter, which was now empty.

“Oops,” he thought, as he brought it down to his waist. He held the platter at his side, and looked back up at the balcony.

Genevieve was gone. He had only looked away for a couple moments, and she disappeared! He began to scan the entire ballroom again, when Matilda rushed up to him.

“Oh, wonderful! The hors d’oeuvres were a hit! Let me take that platter, dear.” Matilda said in a rushed voice as she snatched the platter from Oliver’s hand. Oliver acknowledged her presence, then continued to look for Genevieve.

“Oliver, I need someone to pour drinks at the buffet table, because I‘m much too busy to do it myself.” Matilda explained to him, as she pointed with the platter at the table. “Go over there, now! And please remember to address the guests formally! I don’t want to hear any complaints about disobedient servants!”

Oliver nodded and began to walk across the ballroom towards the buffet table.

When he reached the table, he stood between the long, elegantly adorned table, and the tall wine shelves. He scratched his head reflexively as he observed his new surroundings.

There were glass goblets stacked on the table before him, in little pyramid formations. Each had a little golden and purple napkin folded in them.

“Wonderful,” Oliver thought sarcastically. “Great choice, Matilda, leaving me with the extremely breakable and expensive china. This is going to be interesting.”

Oliver began to ponder on which glass he would take down first, when a young woman approached the table.

“One wine, please.” She asked firmly. When Oliver looked up, he noticed that the woman was staring strait into his eyes.

“Uh, sure,” He said, as he reached for a glass. “my Lady.” He added quickly, remembering Matilda’s request for him to be well mannered.

While Oliver poured the wine, he felt the woman’s eyes piercing him. “Uhm, here you are, my Lady.” He said in a shaky voice, as he held the glass out to her.

She took it from him without looking at it, and said “Dear, your shirt isn’t buttoned correctly.”

Oliver looked down at his white shirt, and sure enough, he missed the top button completely. Exasperatedly, he groaned “Perfect. Excuse me.” and turned away from the table to button himself correctly.

“Well, isn’t he a catch?” Alexandria thought to herself sarcastically. “He can’t even dress himself. Poor Genevieve, she’s fallen for a worthless, brainless servant. Oh well, at least he won’t be hard to distract.”

When Oliver turned back around, his eye caught sight of Genevieve on the dance floor. She was being whirled around like a fairy by a tall, blonde man which Oliver had spotted standing in the corner alone not too long ago. Oliver wondered if it was wrong for a servant to ask to step in, then shook his head from such a silly thought. “Don’t be stupid, Ollie.” He thought, as he took another glass from the table. But the more he thought about it, the better it sounded.

Oliver looked around at the guests standing near the buffet table. Most of them already had a glass of wine. “Well, it won’t hurt if I just watch her dance, right?” Oliver thought as he slowly inched away from the table.

Alexandria spotted Oliver slowly moving away from his post, and panicked. Her mind raced quickly, and she did the first thing that came to mind.

Alexandria dropped her half drunken wine glass on the floor in front of her, the wine splattering all over her lavender ball gown. “Oh, dear!” She wailed dramatically, as she flailed her hands over her head.

Oliver saw Alexandria, and rushed over to help. “Can’t I just have one break?” He thought to himself, as he began to scrape up the shattered glass.

“This is unreal!” Genevieve thought as she waltzed with Sir Gregory. She simply could not fathom how a man, as tall as Gregory was, could handle himself so gracefully on the dance floor! Genevieve felt that even if she didn’t trying to keep up her pace, as long as she was with Gregory, she would look just as skilled at the Ballroom Waltz as he was.

“Are you enjoying yourself, my Lady?” Sir Gregory asked, as the Waltz came to an end.

“Oh, yes, very much,” Genevieve sighed happily back. Suddenly, Genevieve’s serene mood was interrupted by the shattering of a wine glass. Seeing as the band was silent while they transitioned songs, everyone turned to see what had happened.

“Oh, dear!” Alexandria shouted, as her arms flew up above her head. She then caught eyes with Genevieve, silently apologizing for the commotion.

The band began to play again, and Gregory took Genevieve’s hands once more.

“Well, that’ll put a damper on her night, won’t it?” He said in a piteous tone.

“Yes, I suppose it would.” Genevieve responded, as she began to understand why Alexandria had put on such a show. Genevieve saw Oliver scurrying on the ground, picking up the glass fragments. As she continued to dance effortlessly with Sir Gregory, Genevieve watched as Oliver was scolded by Matilda, for something he didn’t even do. She then watched with silent empathy as he sulked away, out of the ballroom.

Throughout the rest of the night, Genevieve stayed with Gregory. Although he was genuinely sweet and charming, Genevieve simply could not convince herself to have a good time. When the night ended, Genevieve invited Sir Gregory to come back on another occasion, for dinner.

“Thank you, my Lady. I’d be honored to. Until then, dear Princess.” Gregory said in a suave voice, as he bowed. He then turned away with a loving smile, and left.

Genevieve was the last person in the ballroom, other than the servants who were sweeping the marble floor and picking up wine glasses. Genevieve walked slowly to the giant doors at the end of the ballroom. She had a massive urge to simply fall over and sleep, but she kept herself up until she reached her bed chamber.

There was no one in her chamber when she arrived. Genevieve wanted to tear off her bulky ball gown, but she couldn’t find the energy to do so. Instead, she fell onto her bed, piled high with elegant quilts, and fell asleep.

“If you break even one of these glasses, I swear you won’t be eating for a week!” Matilda hissed at Oliver, as she paced behind him.

Oliver rolled his eyes and grumbled “Yes, Matilda.” as he submerged another wine glass in the soapy dishpan in front of him.

“The same goes with you, there, Joseph!” Matilda added, as she pointed at the boy standing next to Oliver, drying the glasses. Matilda then grumbled something undecipherable, then waddled out of the kitchen.

“What’s steaming her bottom?” Joseph asked Oliver as he nudged him with his elbow.

“Aw, some lady at the Ball dropped her glass, and Matilda thinks I did something to make her drop it.” Oliver explained in a sharp voice. “She’s really gone off her rocker, if you ask me.” Oliver said with a meek chuckle, as he began to gaze out the window.

“Hmm, yeah.” Joseph said, taking note of Oliver’s sudden loss of interest. “Is something on your mind, there, Ollie?”

“Uh, no.” Oliver said as he broke his stare out the window. “Nothing really important, anyways.”

“Ah, come on. I’ve got nothing better to do. What’s up?” Joseph urged.

“Well…” Oliver mused for a moment. “Alright, but it’s a pretty big deal. You can’t go telling everyone under the sun. You have to promise me you won’t tell a soul.”

“Your secret’s safe with me, mate.” Joseph promised eagerly.

“Well, alright. I kinda… fancy this girl. She’s really fit, and I just can’t seem to get my mind off of her.”

“That’s brilliant, mate!” Joseph exclaimed as he patted Oliver on the back.
“Not really,” Oliver said in response. “she’s kind of out of my league, if you know what I mean.”
“Aww, what, is she rich or something?” Joseph questioned.
“Well, yeah…” Oliver said softly as he handed Joseph another clean wine glass.
“What is she, then?” Joseph prodded.
“Uhm, she’s kind of a…” Oliver drifted off slowly as he began to stare out the window again.
“Spit it out, mate!” Joseph demanded with a wide grin.
“A… princess!” Oliver exclaimed, as he whipped around to face Joseph. Alas, when he turned, the glass he had in his hand slipped, and shattered on the ground. Oliver stared at the broken glass with dismay.
“Well, that‘s unfortunate.” Joseph said gently.

Genevieve knocked on the thick, wooded door that led to her father’s study.
“Come in!” King Agmar called from within.
Genevieve grasped the iron handle and pulled the door open just enough to slip in. She shut it gently behind herself as she said “Hello, father.”
King Agmar smiled warmly and said “Sweetheart, I thought you had gone to bed.”
“I’m not really tired just now,” Genevieve said delicately, as she sat down on the plush chair next to her father, before the majestic fireplace. “I’ve been thinking about a lot of things.”
“Well, as a young woman, I assume you would be. Especially since you’re, uhm, romantically related with young Sir Gregory.” King Agmar said with a slightly awkward tone.
“How did you know about that?” Genevieve asked as though she had no idea what he was talking about. “I mean, he didn’t say anything to you at dinner, did he?” Genevieve began to review the night’s events in her mind. Had Gregory mentioned anything to him?
“Oh, not at dinner, dear.” King Agmar reassured her. “But he did mention after the meal how fortunate he feels he is to have been chosen by you.” he said, assuming that Genevieve understood what he meant. “Also, he really seems to respect the Kingdom. I think, personally, that he’ll make a fine ruler if you choose to wed him.” King Agmar leaned forward and took Genevieve’s hand, and smiled affectionately at her.
Genevieve felt her heart sink into her stomach. Her father rarely ever expressed such emotion towards her. He obviously was fond of Gregory, but Genevieve honestly didn’t care much for the young man, at least not in a romantic sort of way.
“I think I might choose him.” Genevieve said tenderly as she attempted to swallow the lump in her throat. “He’s a very respectable man, and I think he’ll be a good influence on the Kingdom.”
“Well, I’m glad.” King Agmar said contentedly. “Now, you really should get to bed.”
“Yes, father.” Genevieve replied obediently, although she had a feeling she would not be able to fall asleep tonight.

“I’m going to the garden, Elizabeth!” Genevieve called into the kitchen as she passed by.

“Alright, my Lady! I’ll make sure no one bothers you. Have a pleasant walk!” Elizabeth hollered back.

Genevieve slipped out the back door of the kitchen hallway, through the back courtyard, then under a leafy archway, which lead to her own, private garden.

When she reached the floral paradise, she let out a puff of air. It was nice and sunny today, Genevieve noticed, as she made her way to the back of the garden, to the stone wall which surrounded the area. When she reached the towering stone blockade, she glanced over both of her shoulders cagily. Then, she began to swiftly untie the ribbons that ran down the back of her informal day gown.

“I’m hangin’ laundry!” Oliver shouted back from the middle courtyard. He wiped his brow with his forearm, and walked towards the kitchen. When he reached the door, Matilda rushed over to him.

“There you are! I need you to go water the flowers in the back garden.” Matilda said as she pushed a metal watering can into his arms.

“Oh, Matilda!” Elizabeth said over her shoulder, as she continued to cut the carrots before her. “I don’t think right now’s a good time, Matilda, Genevieve just went back there.”

Matilda rolled her eyes. “Well, Oliver’ll just have to be quiet now, won’t he? Those flowers need waterin’. Now off with you! Don’t you dare kill any of those flowers!” With that, Matilda shooed Oliver from the doorway.

As Oliver sauntered into the garden under the lush archway, he felt his heart lighten. Maybe he would see Genevieve. Although he knew he was strictly prohibited from making any contact with her in the garden, he really didn’t give a hoot. He already hadn’t had a bite to eat for two days, what else could they take from him?

Oliver slowly made his way straight down the main path of the garden, towards the back wall. He watered the lovely blue clusters of Forget-Me-Nots, and the beautiful yellow rose bushes opposite them.

Suddenly, Oliver spotted Genevieve, standing with her back facing the walkway. Oliver quickly ducked behind the rose bushes, crushing many of them beneath himself in the process. He stifled a cry as the thorns scratched his legs, but watched Genevieve with deep interest.

She began to rapidly untie the ribbons that ran down the back of her day gown. “What in the…?” Oliver whispered to himself gently, as he continued to examine her attentively. As she shed her fluffy gown, he noticed, to his relief and slight disappointment, she had more clothes underneath. He recognized her underclothes to actually be her nightgown, which he had hung out on the laundry line multiple times before. But why, in the middle of the afternoon of all times, would she come into the garden, and strip down into her night gown?

When Genevieve finished undressing, she picked her day gown off the grass, and tucked it neatly behind a large, blossoming bush. After stowing her gown, her returned to the place in front of the wall where she had been before. Suddenly, she began to scale the vast barrier, taking her footing on unevenly laid stones. In a matter of seconds, she reached the top, and swung her feet over, and in an instant, disappeared over the wall.

Oliver barely had time to react. He rushed over to the wall, kicking off his worn hide shoes in the process. He scaled the wall much the way she did, but stopped at the top to survey the area.

He saw Genevieve walking undauntedly into the dark woods not far from the wall. Oliver then jumped to the ground with a thud, and followed the princess into the gloomy grove.