The patter of claws against polished stone and the muffled sound of a deep, joyful bark, bark, bark followed by a high-pitched shouting brings the half-elf from her deep slumber.

Zerena's eyes flutter open at the strange noises coming from outside her bedroom. She inhales slowly as she remembers where exactly she is. Confused, she pushes back the warm covers and stands from her bed, tugging her robe tighter over her body. Opening the door a crack, Zerena peers down the hall, seeking the source of all the commotion.

A black blur of fur dashes past, mighty paws bounding towards the other end of the corridor. Zerena thought she could glimpse an expensive looking brown leather boot in the canine's mouth, but she wasn't quite certain she was seeing things properly. She opens the door wider, surprised to see a blonde female hurrying with a mismatched pace after the dog. She wore a boot on one foot, while the other is only covered by a white stocking.

"Give me my Gods damned boot back, Titan!" The female hollers, though her emerald eyes were glimmering with the slightest bit of humor. Noticing Zerena's open door, the woman pauses, giving an embarrassed smile. She had a pretty face, her skin sun kissed with freckles dotting her nose and beneath her eyes. Zerena couldn't help but wonder if this girl is important.

"Sorry to wake you, but-" She gestures helplessly to the dog, who is now wagging his tail tauntingly at the end of the hallway. "Mind giving me a hand?" There was a pleading in the young woman's eyes. Zerena found she couldn't have said no even if she wanted to. So, barefoot and clad in only her bathrobe, she nods her head. The blonde lets out a sigh of relief.

"Titan loves people. He doesn't know you, so he might not suspect anything." The woman whispers, as if the black shepherd down the hall could understand everything that was being said.

"Alright," Zerena nods again, fighting an amused smile. She steps towards the dog, whose brown eyes were now trained on her, his head tilting adorably to the side. She squats a little, patting her thighs and attempting to make her voice sound pleasant. "Come here, Titan! Yes, good boy, come!"

Titan barks at her around the boot in his mouth, tail still wagging as he trots over to her. Zerena reaches a hand out and once close enough, he presses his snout to the palm of her hand. Distracted, the dog fails to notice the other woman until it's too late. She snatches the boot from his mouth, letting out a triumphant whoop as she slides it onto her bare right foot. The dog huffs, apparently bored, and moves to trot back down the spiral staircase from where he first appeared.

"Damn mutt." The blonde laughs, shaking her head. Zerena straightens, finding herself wearing a smile of her own. "Thanks for your help. He's always stealing my things right before I have lessons!" Her expression turns to one of curiosity as she tilts her head. "I've never seen you here before, and surely I'd recognize hair as blue as yours. Are you new?"

"Yes, I'm Zerena. I arrived here just yesterday."

"Oh!" The woman exclaims, a look of understanding in her eyes. "You're one of the new servants my brother hired, right?"

Brother?

Then Zerena remembers, the Royal Prince is not an only child. Suddenly she feels foolish standing in front of the Princess barefoot and dressed in only her robe. To be fair, she didn't look how Zerena expected her to. She wears a simple green tunic with silver embroidering the hem and neckline. Instead of a skirt, tan trousers hug her legs accompanied with calf-high brown leather boots. Her hair falls freely in golden curled ringlets around her shoulders. She feels herself blushing as she offers the young woman a curtsy. Immediately the blonde shakes her head, waving her hand dismissively.

"Ah geez, there's no need for that!" She exclaims. Zerena rights herself, unable to hide her look of astonishment. "Just call me Clara. I don't care about those fancy titles." Clara extends her manicured hand, to which Zerena meets with her own callused palm. "It's so nice to meet you, Zerena."

"The pleasure is mine, Clara." The Royal Princess beams at this, before glancing down at Zerena's robes.

"Have you eaten? If you get dressed, I can take you to the banquet hall." Clara offers, a hopeful smile playing at her lips. Zerena shakes her head.

"No, but one of the maids is supposed to be escorting me there, she'll wonder where I am if I just leave..."

"She'll be alright. Come, I'll help you get dressed and fix your hair." Before she could refuse, Clara clamps her hand around Zerena's wrist, gently tugging her back into her chambers. Once inside, the Princess begins noisily rummaging through her dresser and wardrobe. Finally, she makes a pleased sound and turns towards Zerena, holding a simple looking sky blue dress.

"I don't much care for dresses on me, but all the ones I own are uncomfortable. This would look so pretty on you!" Clara shoves it into Zerena's hands, clasping her fingers together. It really is hard to say no to this girl, Princess or not. Reluctantly, she moves to stand behind the screen to give herself some privacy. She removes the bathrobe, folding it neatly and placing it on a stool. Then she slips into the dress, surprised at the silky smoothness of the fabric as it brushes against her skin.

Clara was right, it did look pretty on her. Yet it wasn't at all revealing. The skirt stopped just below her knees, hiding her still healing cuts. The sleeves come down to her elbows, and the neckline swoops just below her collarbone. She walks out of the screen so the Princess could take a look. The blonde woman gasps, clapping her hands in excitement. She eyes the scars on Zerena's forearms and hands, but she doesn't comment on them.

Next, she hands over a pair of smokey grey stockings and black ankle boots. Zerena is relieved, because she honestly wasn't comfortable with people seeing her stick thin legs. Not that the stockings would hide them much, but they provided a sense of comfort. She pulls the stockings over, then steps into the boots. She's a bit suspicious because so far, everything seems to fit her perfectly. Had they guessed at her being so skinny?

Clara gestures to the chair in front of the vanity, holding a silver soft bristle brush in her hands. "Sit, so I can do something with your hair." Zerena winces, running a hand through the mess. She hadn't thought to brush it out before bed, and though the strands were softer due to being washed, they were now in tangled knots. She complies, finding it a bit strange that a Princess of all people is tending to her hair.

"Forgive me for asking, but I thought you had lessons?" Zerena questions, wondering if they would scold Clara for her missed attendance. The Princess scoffs, her hands gentle as she begins working the brush through her hair, being careful not to tug too hard.

"The lessons will be there tomorrow. Besides, my tutors deserve a day off." When Zerena looks at her from the mirror, she has coy smile and a mischievous glint in those green eyes. "Plus, it's been so very long since I've made a friend."

Friend? Is that what we are now? But we've only just met!

"At least, I hope we can be friends?" The tone in her voice has Zerena looking at her through the mirror again. For the first time in the minutes they've spent together, there was a trace of hesitance in her face. Well then, how could she refuse a princess of a friend? She decides it really couldn't be that bad to humor one of the most important members of the Royal Family.

"Of course we can." Zerena answers softly, watching as Clara's nimble fingers work her hair into a fancy looking braid, allowing some of it to swoop down to her right eye before securing it with a silver clip just behind her ear. She barely even recognizes herself. Even though her cheeks are still sunken and the bones beneath her neck stick out, she can see the shadows beneath her eyes beginning to disappear. Her pale skin seemed to glow from the previous night's bath. Zerena is not a vain person, but she could enjoy looking . . . dare she say pretty for the first time in ages.

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Clara steps back from her handiwork, giving Zerena room to stand once more. The Princess loops her arm with hers, sweeping the two of them out of the comfort of her chambers. Their arms remain locked together through the journey down the spiral stairs and to her surprise, Zerena feels the faintest of smiles tugging at her lips.

No, befriending a Princess can't be that bad at all.

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Zerena could not come up with any words to describe the banquet hall, other than it was huge. The most impressive feature was the domed roof, depicting a mural with angelic babes floating about the sky, some holding harps and others sleeping on fluffy white clouds. Princess Clara leads her deeper inside, aiming for a small circular white table pushed against one of the tall windows. A glance outside tells her that it would be yet another gorgeous day.

Hanging evenly all around the stony walls are gold and white tapestries with a fiery orange bird stitched into the center, with black swords criss-crossed behind it. She guessed the design had to be the Royal Crest. Zerena is beginning to notice a theme to the Palace, one she should have picked up on a bit sooner.

"Why is there so much gold and white?" She finds herself asking, unable to stop her curiosity. The Princess follows her gaze, smirking at the tapestry.

"Honestly, I think my Uncle just likes the colors." She answers casually, thanking the servant who brings them a large pitcher of what Zerena guesses to be orange juice. "There's a rumor that he was chosen to be the Fire God's Champion. Which is why he uses the mighty Phoenix as the Royal Crest. Only rumors, of course."

This has Zerena's head turning back towards Clara, an eyebrow raising. "Champion?" She's never heard such a thing.

"You mean you don't know?" The blonde asks incredulously, green eyes wide in shock. "Well, to put things simply: some people are chosen to be Champions by the Gods. Usually when this happens, they will be gifted something to represent said God - like a piece of jewelry or a pet - as a way to show their loyalty to them. I have a friend who is the Champion of Fenris, The Wolf God, she was gifted a necklace with a howling wolf's head carved out of silver." At Zerena's lost expression, Clara shakes her head. "You've seriously never learned of this? Honestly, I thought you might have been Claimed yourself with that hair."

Zerena was taking a sip of her orange juice when she heard Clara's last statement. She has to swallow quickly to prevent herself from spewing it everywhere in surprise. "Me? You can't be serious." There's no way in hell she was a Champion. Otherwise, her luck these previous years wouldn't have been so rotten.

"You never know," Clara tilts her glass towards Zerena, that mischievous glint back in her eyes. "A Claiming can happen at anytime, anywhere. It's quite an honor."

"Does it happen often?"

Clara shakes her head. "Not recently, currently there are only a handful who have been Chosen within the Palace. Normally, the people that are Claimed are of Elven or Fae Heritage, but as I said - it can happen to anyone."

"Interesting." Honestly, this all sounded like something that belongs in a storybook. Zerena wasn't quite sure what to make of the Princess's words. She seemed so certain of it, after all. She even claimed to have a friend who was the Champion of Fenris, one of the more popular Gods of Loria.

The women fall into a comfortable silence once their meals arrived, Zerena unable to keep herself from licking her lips at the sight of poached eggs, crispy bacon, buttery pancakes with a tin of sweet maple syrup on the side. She takes her time with her breakfast, savoring every last bite. Only when she feels the Princess's gaze on her from across the table does she pause, looking up from her plate.

"How is it?" She questions, smiling kindly, almost as if she knows how long it's been since Zerena has last eaten a decent breakfast.

"It's wonderful," The half-elf replies. "Everything here seems to be wonderful."

Clara regards her, the smile on her lips fading a bit. "Don't let the charms of this Palace fool you." She warns, to which Zerena gives a quizzical look in response. "They're going to work you to the bone, you know. That's why the servants are given such nice things - it's all a facade crafted by my Uncle."

Zerena is surprised by such blunt words and she swallows her last bite of pancake slowly. She looks around, afraid that someone might have overheard the Princess.

"Don't worry." Clara lets out a shallow laugh. "They all know how I feel, I have a habit of speaking my mind. Which is one of the reasons my brother is next in line for the thrown, and not I. But enough talk of that, I won't bore you with my opinions. Have you finished?"

Zerena nods, pushing her plate away as the Princess stands. "Then I'll give you a tour of the Palace."

Surely, she had better things to do than to spend her time showing Zerena around. But if the Princess was so willing, then she would oblige. She trails quickly behind Clara, whose steps are hurried as they exit the banquet hall. Servants bow towards her as she passes and the other diners throw Zerena questioning stares, but the Princess does not seemed at all phased.

A life of being bowed to and looked at is easy to grow used to, she supposes.

And what did she mean, not to fall for the charms of the Palace? Was there some secret that Princess Clara was hiding? Or did she know of the trials Zerena and the other slave-servants would be put through?

She had to wonder if the down-to-earth, carefree act the Princess put on show was just that - an act. How long would it take for the other woman's true colors to show? Zerena puts the thoughts aside, not seeing any point at trying to figure the Royal Princess out when they had only just met nearly an hour ago. Maybe the other woman truly was just lonely and in search of a new friend.

The Princess leads Zerena through a golden door that opens to a covered bridge with pane-less windows on either side all the way to other end. They walk down some stone steps, stopping once they reach a circular, marble fountain burbling gently in the morning sun. Looking around, she notices that they must be in the Palace Gardens. Flowers of all sorts surround them, arranged so that they form a rainbow circling the fountain. Zerena's mouth opens in awe as she leans down to sniff at an orange lilac, allowing a content hum to leave her lips.

Turning back to the Princess, she states with a grin. "I've never seen such an amazing garden."

Clara smirks at this, nodding her head in agreement. "This is only part of it. Come, I'll show you the rest." And so they continue their walk, the Princess once again looping her arm through Zerena's as she explains the history. She is surprised to learn that the garden dates back to when the Palace was built as a gift to the first queen from her husband.

"The Queen must have been quite a woman for the King to gift her something this amazing." Zerena says casually as they walk underneath tall, flowery trees lining either side of the cobblestone path.

"I'd say the King must have been quite a man to gift his wife something so extraordinary." Clara grins, bumping Zerena's small shoulder with her own. The blonde pulls them towards a white wooden bench stationed in front of a small, crystal clear pond teeming with tiny golden fish. A box turtle lays on one of the rocks outlining the pond, sunning himself lazily with the morning light.

The Princess gestures to the bench and Zerena sits, navy hues watching the fish as they swim about the water.

"So, Zerena. As my new friend, it's your duty to tell me everything about yourself." Clara states suddenly, making her heart leap to her throat as she turns to look at the other woman, who was staring at her with expectant green eyes.

"Everything? That may take awhile." Zerena gives a nervous chuckle, brushing the strands of hair that had fallen out of her braid from her face.

"We have all day." Clara counters, raising her perfectly shaped eyebrows. Zerena purses her lips, a feeling of discomfort overwhelming her. Finally, she heaves a sigh, leaning back on the bench a bit as she begins telling the Princess of her tale.

She remained attentive throughout the story, her eyes filling with sorrow upon learning of the passing of Zerena's mother when she was ten, then turning to what looked like outrage at her father selling her to the Slave Traders soon after. She tells Clara of her life as a slave, smiling to herself at the memory of her first encounter with Rosale.

Zerena had accidentally cut her finger while cutting down the weeds that had run wild around the mansion. The Masters had her using tools way too sharp for a mere child to even be touching. She tried to hide her bleeding finger from the adults, but Rosale had seen the whole event occur. The kind-faced woman had torn a piece of her uniform from the bottom and used the fabric as a makeshift bandage. Then she had brought Zerena's small finger to her lips, as a mother would to her child. The warm act had the girl's lips wobbling, her chest filling with a renewed pain at the reminder of what she would never again have.

Zerena fast forwards to Prince Tristan's arrival, informing Clara of how her brother had taken her straight from the Post she had been chained to without a second thought. She purposely skips over telling the Princess of the beating she had received the day previous to that, the memory still too fresh and raw in her mind.

When finally her story ends, Zerena forces herself to meet Clara's eyes, gaging her reaction. There was no judgement in her expression as the Princess reaches her hand to place atop Zerena's. She shakes her head, curls bouncing. The half-elf could have sworn she saw her pink lips wavering slightly, but then Clara distracts her by speaking.

"I wish . . . I had the power to stop how they treat your kind." She murmurs, lowering her head in shame. "One day, my brother will be crowned as Loria's King. He has a - a plan, an idea, to bring people of all kinds together, but.." She clears her throat, gaze flickering to the fish in the pond. "He means well and his heart is in the right place . . ." She trails off, causing Zerena's eyebrows to furrow.

"What plan?" She questions, curious by Clara's sudden somber tone. The blonde only shakes her head as she stands, tugging Zerena to her feet.

"Oh, I shouldn't have said anything." Clara huffs, mostly to herself. "Come, your friend will be wondering where you are, no doubt. I'll give you a better tour some other time." And arm-in-arm, the Princess leads Zerena back to the entrance of the garden, walking at a leisurely pace. The women remain silent, though the thoughts running through Zerena's head were anything but.

What is Clara talking about? How does Prince Tristan plan on bringing people of all kinds together? Does it have something go to do with the slaves he bought? And why did Clara seem so . . . sad when she mentioned it?

Zerena was so lost in thought she barely registered that they were now standing in front of the door to her chambers. She turns to say goodbye, when suddenly she's being pulled tight against the other woman's chest. She tries to pull away out of shock, but Clara only holds her more firmly.

"Zerena, dear friend, you must withstand this three week trial." She whispers, as if afraid someone might overhear. "Trust your instincts over everything else. If something happens, please come to me." With that, she leans back, smiling widely as if she hadn't said anything strange at all. "I hope to see you again soon! And by that, I mean I certainly will see you soon!"

Clara gives a wave of her hand before turning, her hair bouncing as she vanishes down the staircase. Zerena enters her room, releasing a breath as she tries to shake off the warning.

What an interesting start to my first day.

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