Beyond the Gate

The prince is nice, Alice is sure.

Too bad she doesn't care.

The doors of the grand hall swing open to reveal the prince in question. He strides in with all the pride and arrogance allowed to someone of his station--never mind that he is a third-born son of a less wealthy kingdom than Alice's own.

"He looks like he was beaten by the ugly stick," her maid, Florence, whispers in horror.

Alice hides her smile behind a cough. It takes everything within her not to laugh. Her mother gives her a look from beside her. Behave.

Florence is not wrong, after all. Prince Jordan is a stick himself, one with dirt-streaked blond hair and ill-fitting clothes. He looks as though he can barely stand to be here, the expression on his face sour. His blue eyes flit around the room, mouth turned down.

His eyes meet Alice's and the frown gets worse, lip curling in contempt.

That's okay; she doesn't like him either.

"Queen Rose," the prince says as he comes to a stop. It's barely a respectable distance away. Alice bristles internally at the lack of respect. "Thank you for your gracious invitation."

"Prince Jordan," Queen Rose says, standing. Alice stands as well, much as she doesn't want to. Always be proper. It's what is expected of a princess.

"Thank you for accepting. We are proud to host you for dinner tonight, where we will announce your engagement to the Princess Alice--"

"What?" Alice yelps, swinging around to face her mother. "Mother, you can't!"

"I can and I will," the queen snaps, not looking at her. "It's already been decided. You need a husband to rule at your side when you come of age. Your wedding will be in three months."

"No." Alice is quiet, this time. "No. I refuse. Find someone better if I must be married off like some piece of cattle, but I will not marry this--this... ass."

"Alice!"

She ignores her mother's fury. She grabs Florence's hand and hauls her out of the room, into the halls beyond. "My room--"

"No," Florence says quietly, quickly. "I know of someplace better. Someplace hidden."

Alice gives her an appraising look. Florence has been by her side for five years; she came into her service properly last year but before that they'd been unlikely friends. Florence is the only daughter of six, the head of staff's child. All of her brothers serve the Queen as well, in various positions. In the past five years, she has never led Alice wrong.

"Lead the way."

Florence heads in the opposite direction of Alice's rooms, into one of the servants' halls. They run into no one, racing along dusty paths that Alice has never seen before. They are cold, and they are dark. Wildly, Alice wonders why no one lights any torches.

She trips on a dislodged stone, nearly taking Florence down with her. "Steady, Alice." Florence helps her stand, hands on her waist. Their eyes meet for a moment before Florence steps back with a muttered apology. Alice gathers her skirt into her hand, abandons her shoes, and then they keep running. The stone is even colder against her bare feet, littered with loose stones and slightly damp from humidity and drafts.

The halls get darker, damper, and Alice starts to wonder where in the hell Florence is taking her.

Finally they reach a gate. Florence slows to a stop in front of it, panting, and fumbles with the lock. A close look at it reveals that it is not like any lock Alice has ever seen; it's almost like a puzzle, one Florence clearly knows the answer to. It glows gold for a moment as it springs open and the gate evaporates. "What the--?" Alice stutters, shocked. She takes a step back in alarm.

"Please!" Florence says urgently, grabbing her arm. "It's just through here."

"Are you out of your damn mind?" Alice hisses. "What kind of magic is this?"

Magic, while not strictly forbidden, is not entirely welcome in this kingdom, either. Alice has seen it used only a few times in her eighteen years.

"Safe magic," is the answer. "Kind magic. Please. Trust me, Alice."

"I trust you." She jerks her head to the room beyond. "It's this I don't trust. I had no idea this was here."

Florence just looks at her, expression closed. Alice sighs. "Lead the way," she says again.

Together, they head into the room--only, it doesn't seem like a room. As the gate shimmers back into existence behind them--which, weird, but whatever--it appears to her that while there are no walls here, there's a distinct feeling of enclosure. For some reason, the ground beneath them is a very pale pink, the space around them a pale blue--though how thin air has a color, she doesn't know. Alice spins in place, discomfort rising. "What is this, Florence?"

No answer.

Alice frowns, more annoyed than panicked, though that changes as she looks around and fails to find her friend. "Florence?" she calls. A fog builds around her, restricting her vision, heightening her alarm. "Florence! Answer me!"

"I can give you a choice."

She swings around, eyes searching. "What?" she demands.

"I can give you a choice," the voice repeats, and Florence comes back, this time dressed in a glittery silver gown. Her dark hair is unbound from its normal braid, and in her hands is a staff. She raises it in mockery of a toast. "You came to me when you were thirteen, alone and in desperate need of a friend. Now, you return, this time in desperate need of escape."

"...no?" she guesses, unsure of what is playing out. "Florence, finish this game at once."

Her response is ignored. "I can take you away from here, if that is your wish. On the other side of the ocean is my kingdom, one where you would have no more restrictions--but more importantly, you would not be made to marry someone against your will."

"There's a catch, I'm sure," Alice says sardonically. "Come now, Florence--"

"Yes, there is a catch. If you take this option, your friend Florence will die."

Alice stops.

The woman--who looks less like Florence and more like a familiar stranger--raises her eyebrows in question. Florence is beside her now, on her knees. She faces the ground.

"Well, Princess? Your answer?"