The ground was wet and cold.

The mud stuck onto her frozen feet as she ran through the forest. Sensing his breathing on her neck, she let out a helpless cry. She knew he was far away, yet the fear that had silently inhabited her bones wouldn't let her escape in peace; aching all over yet desperately reaching for every dying blade of grass.

"Whatever happens, the princess must live." Familiar, yet distant words echoed in her mind; if they were twisted by time, it was surely for the better. Salvation was near, but he was closer than before.

“Do you love me?” someone asked.

“Yes.”

“Lies. We wouldn’t be here if you did.”

There were colors and sounds she had certainly encountered before; yet, as her panting got louder, she could no longer remember any of them. All but a gentile female voice became quiet; she was surrounded by whiteness, only seeing locks of golden hair.

“You will pay the price for the crack you’ve created. Be certain it won’t be a cheap one,” the Judge said.

Diane woke up covered in a cold sweat. Looking around the unfamiliar room, she caught herself shaking excessively. Gripping the soft material beneath her exhausted body, she closed her eyes again and focused on her senses. The house smelled like spring. Through thick tree crowns shyly broke a few rays of sunshine. She opened her eyes carefully and watched the warmth inside the room embrace the light. She was safe. Well, not safe, but at least alive. It was her seventh time watching the sunrise from the small house on the outskirts of Lewtown. Strangely positioned between the town and the forest, isolated, yet close to both, the warm home of an even warmer family breathed peace into her insecure chest.

She stood up and paced around room. Why did the Judge’s words come back to her now? Was the punishment near? Why? What had she done so wrong in her past to be forced to wake up around sunrise? And to whom did the other voices belong?

I need to get some water.

Still in her nightgown, Diane staggered through the small hallway and into the living room. As her head was still spinning, she didn’t notice at first Thomas and his mother quietly sitting on a small sofa. Diane felt uncomfortable. She hadn't expected them to be up so early. Before she managed to escape back to her room, the sharp eye of Kelly Hammer caught a glimpse of her fair skin.

“This must be our new guest!” she said, smiling. “Come, dear. Don't be shy.”

Suddenly, everything became too clear: she could see every single color down to its atom, every single particle of dust, and the edges of every piece of furniture. She was overwhelmed by fear in a form she hadn’t felt, at least in a long time. Kelly Hammer’s eyes, though smiling, hid a certain clarity, confidence, and they were dangerous. They knew something they shouldn’t have.

Diane smiled back, crossed her arms, and shyly walked over to Mrs. Hammer. She was a woman in her late forties, with short, black hair, and eyes strangely different from her son's. Thomas looked at Diane as well, a little wink signaling that he had already recited the introduction he had been given.

“Indeed. My name is Meredith Brown,” the princess said with a slight bow. Diane Hunster was an important person; so much so that her likeness had been kept secret from the world. There were only rumors of her beauty: a tender face, plump lips, and paralyzing, empty eyes that sucked out the soul of anyone who dared look at them with too much wonder; then they would lie and die for her.

So, why did Kelly Hammer’s smile suddenly grow wider and more ironic? Could it be that she recognized that tortured smile, even though she had never seen it before? And if she didn’t, could it have been something utterly different? “Would you like some tea?” Kelly asked politely, but somehow mockingly.

"Yes, please."

Thomas cleared his throat as she sat next to him. "Have you slept well?" he asked.

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Diane flinched. "Yes, very well. How about yourself?"

He smiled. "Not a wink. I couldn't stop thinking about the things you said yesterday."

“I am glad you chose to stay.” Diane’s answer was filled with a surprising amount of honesty, and not only because it meant she had done part of her job well.

“Really?” he asked with a smile. But she was so serious he quickly changed his tune. “ I don’t know why I did, though. It all sounds really dangerous. It’s not really a place for someone like me. Still, I would like to stay. With you. All.”

Her eyes met his. “As you should,” Diane lied. She knew she was cruel; it was one of the traits she sometimes found quite beneficial. Strangely enough, while looking into the Flamer's pleading eyes, it suddenly felt wrong. The lies she played with nonchalantly burned on her tongue. The truth begged to be freed, screamed from her suffocating mind. Luckily, Kelly showed up in time. Had she been a moment late, Diane might have made yet another mistake.

While placing the cups on the round table, Kelly observed Diane's face. “You look like someone I once knew.”

The princess fixed her posture. “May I ask who that person is?”

Mrs. Hammer smiled mystically. “An old acquaintance. There is little chance of you knowing him, dear.”

Diane felt challenged. “Mrs. Hammer, I hear you are a Crystalian?”

Kelly's smile was filled with strange disappointment. “Yes, just like yourself.”

“How do you know I am a Crystalian?”

“Your eyes are brown, dear. You could not, even if you wished, be anything but a Crystalian.”

“I could have been a Florian.”

Mrs. Hammer showed no sign of nervousness. “It was a wild guess.” She took a sip of her tea. “You have quite a lot of scars, Miss Brown. What is it that you do for a living?” Kelly asked defiantly.

“I am a gardener. How about yourself?” the princess played along.

“A housewife.”

“With hands like those, I sincerely doubt.”

"Alright," Thomas jumped in. "Meredith, go get dressed, please. Let me show you around."

"No need." Her eyes were still steadily fixated on his mother. There was still horrible throbbing in her head, but her pride wouldn’t allow her to fall prey to some Kelly Hammer.

"That is a magnificent idea!" Kelly exclaimed. "What is the point of coming here if you are not going to explore a bit? Where did you say you came from again?"

"Painron," the princess bit her tongue right after the words left her mouth.

Kelly's face glowed with excitement. "The capitol! How splendid! I've been there once myself."

"May I ask what for?"

For the first time in a while, Diane felt genuine fear as Kelly's expression changed. Diane Hunster had the ability to manipulate energy and she felt it sharpen and grow even colder as Kelly smiled.

"To meet the king."

Diane’s eyes glowed due to either enthusiasm or fear. Mothers of great people always hide something under their carpets, and Diane made sure Kelly Hammer wouldn’t get away with sweeping anything under hers. Diane pressed her feet against the floor.

“You’ve met the king?” Thomas asked. He scratched his arm numerous times, hoping that the sensation would take his mind off the tension.

Kelly smiled. “Of course, dear. I’ve told you about it! You must have forgotten.”

“Right. I must have.” Thomas proceeded to stuff his mouth with as many cookies as possible while the two women went on with their charade.

“Well, isn’t our king a kind person! To let a housewife enter his castle!”

“Gardeners too.”

Diane laughed, completely relaxed all of a sudden. “Well, I did almost get a job at the castle.”

Kelly took a sip of her tea; it was bitter. “How come you didn’t?”

“Oh, I did,” Diane went on. “But I decided not to take it once I heard that the royal family likes reaping souls.”

The look in Diane’s eyes as she broke a cookie in half with her teeth made Kelly shiver. The mother placed her cup on the table and made a perfectly reasonable excuse to leave the room and proceeded to clean the house.

Diane only smiled. “Your mother is a remarkable person. I think we will get along.”

Thomas almost choked. “Do you now?”

Diane took the final sip of her tea. “Oh, yes. Wonderfully.” Then she stood up and said: “We should go meet the others.”

While they were walking towards the woods, Diane did not say a word. She pretended not to notice Thomas’s curious glances and infinitely replayed a scene from her dream in hopes of finding sense in it.

"The princess must live."

She was so tired of everything that, by the time the fresh air surrounded her, she could feel nothing but excessive heaviness. And then something snapped; perhaps it was a branch, perhaps a thread of destiny. She could hear it clearly. The words were still playing over, and over again, but she could tie them to a face now.

It was George’s father.