1 Chapter 1 - Plan failed?
Chess quickly realised her current plan wasn't going to work, so she immediately started forming a new one in her head. The problem was, she only had a few seconds to do it.
Despite Xander, her personal guard, helping her, she still somehow bumped into some of the other guards.
It turns out she'd forgotten there were Always guards through the main hall; and one of her Fathers many personal guards was the Head of this particular group.
Chess knew that as soon as the guard was able to, he would inform the King of Chess's attempted escape, whether she succeeded or not.
And that's what's worrying her.
Brushing those thoughts away for now, she put her plan into motion.
Chess knew of a small broom cupboard just around the corner. Sure, it was the opposite way she was headed, but what she assumed nobody else in the castle knew, was that it contained a passageway.
It's only secret because the cupboard is rarely used, if at all. The passageway is very obvious if not concealed, but Chess needed it concealed, and she needed time for that.
If she was correct, the weight of the guards armour, especially since it had been updated because of the knew weapons being invented, she estimated she'd be about 10 seconds faster than the quickest guard.
However, he's not the one who'll be chasing her. Copin will.
Copin is her Fathers personal and favourite guard. He always reports to him about absolutely everything, even if it has no importance at all. At least, no importance anyone else could see.
But King Richard can Always find importance for anything, and so he keeps a diary. Diary? More like journal, (there IS a difference). He writes anything and everything down, always carrying it around with him, sleeps with it under his pillow, just waiting for the perfect time to use a piece of information from that book.
He believes it'll bring him answers to everything. He's wrong.
Chess knows her father has never really been with it, always believing things will turn out different than they will, or have...
He believed Chess would be just like her mother, blonde, tanned, elegant, and still believes when Chess turns 16 she'll magically become exactly like Queen Cander.
Slight problem with that though, Chess is black haired, pale, and incredibly warrior like, at least in everyone else's eyes. Oh, and she was already 17.
She's just not the typical rich and powerful royal family princess you would expect!
There was nothing wrong with her.
Back to her amazingly dull escape.
She spun around, and bolted back down the corridor, almost expecting Copin not to actually end up chasing her.
Of course, one could not be so lucky.
She heard the clang of the metal of the armour behind her, but not too close behind. Chess was fast, she knew she was fast. She'd made sure she was fast.
Only slightly out of breath, she reached the cupboard within thirty seconds. Pushing open the door, she heard the metal armour of the guards only just coming round the corner.
She closed the door and began covering the passageway with the useless boxes and items the cupboard held, making a small space so she could slide behind it when she was done.
That turned out to be sooner than expected and the small archway wasn't fully covered, but it was covered enough. She slipped behind the boxes and started running.
This passageway would lead her to the other side of the main hall, where there were now currently no guards.
-
Currently unknown to Chess, King Richard had already been informed of her attempted escape, and was setting plans to keep her from leaving.
"There is no way that girl is leaving this damn castle." He stood from his throne and made his way to the Other room, where his wife was.
Queen Cander was having a nice, uninterrupted day so far, and wished it not to end so soon. Unfortunately, as soon as he heard the Kings footsteps, she knew it couldn't be so.
"Your daughter is trying to escape again." He grumbled. She rolled her eyes.
"Richard, she is your daughter too."
He pointed her cane at Cander.
"Barely. She doesn't act like it." He threw himself into the arm chair in front of the fire, and continued to grumble about how 'Shesscintle does not act like a princess' and how they need to 'teach her a lesson', ignoring his wife's weak protests.
To be truthful, Cander has never liked Shesscintle. The girl has always looked the opposite of herself and has always acted the opposite of herself. She was ashamed to have her as a daughter, and has often though she would've made a better son. That way she could be sent off to the military academy and spend as little time with herself and The King as possible.
-
Chess reached the end of the passageway and climbed out from behind the suit of armour that covered the exit.
Listening carefully for footsteps, she crept through the castle, slowly getting closer and closer to leaving.
All of a sudden, a guard was standing directly in front of her.
Bowing slightly, he announced, "Milady, the King requests to see you right away."
She peered around him, expecting to see a group of guards running up towards them, but there was no one.
Once she realised who this was though, she realised she had nothing to fear.
"Brock, step aside. I don't care for my father not what he has to say." She went to step around him but he moved in her way. Her frown deepened. Just what did this guy think he was doing.
"I am under strict orders, Milady. I must bring you to the King."
Chess went to move around him again but once more, he moved in her way.
"Step aside, Brock." She said through gritted teeth. He just shook his head.
Soon she understood, this guy wasn't going anywhere without her. Goddamn it!
She guessed her Father had already found out she was trying to leave, and had made the 'necessary arrangements' to keep her from leaving. -That meant locking her in the dungeon for a few days, nothing she hasn't done before. This isn't the first time she's tried to escape, though it IS the first time she's had help.
Perhaps the 'having help' part wasn't such a good idea after all.
Perhaps the 'having help' part is what's gotten her caught in the first place.
