-Jan 12th of 1964

            A blizzard wails outside as snow wind forces its way through the bars and allows for puffs of snow to enter. A small pile of snow accumulates directly under the window as the stone walls are iced over from the cold. A thin layer of ice sparsely covers the floor as the puddles of water are fully frozen.

            A grimy figure huddles under a rag-patched, wool blanket. The hair is so tangled and dirty, that it would not be surprising to find a spider nest there in. The skin is as grimy and as dark as sin. As for the ragged clothing, not even a cat would use them to birth her kittens.

             Small puffs of mist are released with every breath the prisoner takes as the figure watches the cell entrance. The only sounds heard is the winds howling in the raging storm. Yet still the figure does not move from their watch.

            A figure emerges in view wearing a silver mask. The silver masked man studies the filthy figure that bears no resemblance to the infamous woman known as the Scarlet Princess. He wrinkles his nose at the prisoner’s appearance, but he had no choice in coming here. A certain little bird had said, that the Scarlet Princes may know who the prince wanted.

            Clearing his throat, the silver masked harshly says, “Scarlet Princess, a word if you please?”

            The figure raises their head up, but the scraggily hair covers her face except for the tip of her nose and mouth. The woman doesn’t speak as she waits in silence for the unexpected visitor to speak.

            “I am seeking a maiden, a beauty,” the silver masked man stiffly said.

            “There are many such maidens fitting that description. I can easily give names if that is needed, but I would refer you to the courts for better descriptions.”

            “How dare you!”

            “Eh? I dare what? I am merely answering your questions. If you are not satisfied, may I suggest to specify your demands.”

            The silver masked man eyes narrow as he controls his anger. “A maiden, who makes a man’s heart beat,” the silver masked man flatly said.

            “That sounds like a whore to me,” the scraggily woman retorted.

            The silver masked man clenches his fist in anger as he contemplates how easily it would be to rip the prison bars apart and kill the infuriating woman inside. But he could not afford to leave a trace behind.

            “My apologies, please allow me to be more detailed,” the silver masked man stiffly said before continuing, “Innocent with eyes that draw a man in.”

            “That matches the description of any girl between the ages of 12 to 14. I hazard to say, that thine master is a pervert.” The woman drily said as her lips slightly twitch with mirth.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

            “The maiden would be of marriageable age, but is of a lower class or a minor noble,” the silver masked man carefully said.

            The figure is quiet for a moment, before solmenly answering, “My bonnie lass she smelleth, Making the flowers Jealouth, Fa la la-.”

            Unable to contain his wrath, the silver masked man darts at the figure through the bars. The bars easily keep him out as the figure smirks at his actions. He takes a deep breath through his nose as he takes a step back and straightens out his clothes.

            “What a waste of time,” the silver masked man mummers as he turns away.

            The scraggily woman suddenly says from behind him, “She hides in plain sight, but you’ll never find her.”

            The silver masked man pauses before dismissing her words as a last goad. With relief, he leaves the dungeon the way he came. The snow will easily hide any tracks he failed to leave behind as well as any trace of his illegal entering.

            The snow throws itself at his face as he climbs one of the palace towers. The outer walls are icily and slippery, but he would not allow himself to fail even in these circumstances. The snow clings to his clothing and turns into heavy icy. The cold bites at his face and his frozen fingertips but he continues to climb.

            With bated breath, he slips into the tower dripping wet and shuts the shutters behind him. The room is warmly lit by a fire place as the healer on duty dozes from the warmth. With practiced ease, the silver masked figure hits a nerve in the healer’s neck ensuring that the healer would sleep well until the next morning.

            Removing his cloak and boots, the silver masked figure hangs his cloak to dry by the fire place. With ease, he removes his clothing and changes into the second dry set of clothing he had on. As for his boots, he had left them drying by the fire place as well.

            With care the silver masked figure removes a small glass vial filled with a blue liquid. With care, he approaches the still beautiful Queen. The Queen’s large eyes suddenly fly open as he stiffens in surprise. The Queen opens her mouth as he rushes forward to stop her from screaming.

            “Have you come to kill me?” The Queen softly said.

            The silver masked man halts a hand away and replies, “No, but I have this for you, it will help.”

            The Queen without hesitation takes the vial from his outstretched hand and mumbles, “Once, I would have thrown this way. But I care not if it is poison or not if it gives me the solace that I seek.”

            The Queen relaxes as she slumps back onto the bed. In a dreamy voice, she says, “Hurry, what do you want to know?”

            “I seek an innocent maiden that gathers the hearts of men, but is still a maiden,” the silver masked man swiftly said.

            The Queen distantly answers, “The Scarlet Princess knows. Ask her.”

            The silver masked figure frowns and growls, “She knows nothing.”

            “Then ask the light or they, the harbingers of storms to come,” the Queen faintly said as she dozed off into a deep slumber.

            The silver masked figure automatically whispers the name, “Typhoon.” “What do they know?” He yelled into her ear, but the Queen does not even stir. Queen begins to snore loudly as he shakes her by the shoulders but still even then she does not stir.

            In frustration, the silver masked figure kicks the foot of the bed and lets out a whimper as he stubs his toe. Hopping on one foot, the silver masked figure makes his way back to wet clothing and items. With ease, he gathers them and slinks out of the room.

            The Queen continues to doze as the sleeping healer suddenly opens their eyes as the bells begin to loudly toll.