AN:

Dove: Yes. I Should be working on Silence, The Only Way, and Sorrell Private Academy. I know this. =Blush= But this idea hit me while I was washing my hair about fifteen minutes ago and I realized it was to good to pass up.

Thanks to Ryu-chan, for the idea – I'm pretty sure she didn't know she was giving it! Thank Goodness for Roleplaying Storylines! Lol! -

Little Promised Child

Chapter One – Meeting You

She had been betrothed at the moment of birth. A loud infant, with a shock of black hair and pale skin. Not once was she asked her opinion.

She was married by eight years of age. Two months later, war broke out.

The girl was sent to an island. A distant place, where no one lived but the servants in her castle. Only five knew of the island's existence, and her parents couldn't even visit. Not that it mattered – they were killed three weeks after her shipping.

A nasty affair, including rampaging animals, mutiny, and a few beheadings. Rumor held tales of a few hangings, as well.

She grew there, alone save for fifteen servants. Her hair grew long and silky, her eyes deepened in color and emotion. She read as often as a book fell into her hands, spurred by her obsessive thirst for knowledge. The little princess learned many things she might have been kept from had she been watched over by parents at nurses.

She learned to fight – training from the information she was given in the books. She learned how to argue with someone without making it seem obvious. The child even became skilled at sneaking about and light thievery.

She was, indeed, a strange Princess. She didn't even wish for her husband to come to her. She was perfectly happy on her little island without any interference from a man and wished it to stay that way.

"Good morning, M'lady. It's time to be up and about!" Chirped the maid as she entered the room, throwing open the curtains and hurrying over to the bed. The covers were over her young mistress' head. With a sigh, she pulled them down to chide the girl for her laziness.

Only to discover no one there.

She heard giggling from behind her, and discovered the Princess perched atop a book-case, a freshly extinguished lamp at her side and a book in her hands. "M'lady, get down from there!" The maid cried, eyes wide. The girl laughed, tossing her long black hair in exuberance. But she did as asked, hopping light-footed from the wooden contraption and landing lithely.

"So, what'm I doin' today?" She asked, speaking in an accent she'd picked up from her current literary escapade. The maid frowned darkly.

"Miss, you're a Princess, speaking like a barbarian does not become you!" The girl sighed. She closed the book, 'Confessions of an Thief' and set it on her bedside table. She straightened, cracking her back loudly – causing the nurse to flinch in annoyance – and asked in a much more regal tone,

"Whatever is my schedule for today, Miss Merian?" The maid smiled at her joking and shook her head.

"Very nice, M'lady. Well, we set you up a little archery practice area, if you'd like to give it a try. Later Madame Daneesh has etiquette lessons, per usual, for you." The Princess groaned. "Yes, we all know your low opinion of your teacher, but try not to give her a hard time. Now, of with your nightgown!"

Sighing in defeat, the Princess removed her nightclothes, and washed her face in the ice-cold water that sat in the porcelain basin. Then she slipped into her training clothes and ran from the room for the archery course.

"Sit up straight! Don't slouch, it's unbecoming and makes your stomach pooch! Keep that smirk from your face young lady! Sit still! Stop playing with your sleeve!" Madame Daneesh shrieked in her high-pitched, tight voice. The Princess fought the urge to flinch with each word. 'She hates me.' The girl thought miserably, trying to stay still. It was getting increasingly hard – every time she did something wrong Madame would rap her arm with the ruler (That was getting painful).

She couldn't be blamed for playing with her sleeve. The girl hated dressing in her formal Kimonos, but Madame would have a panic attack if she showed up without one one.

She tried to settle more comfortably, only to take another painful whack to the shoulder. Didn't Madame know that the stupid ruler left bruises? 'Probably. That must be why she always uses it!'

"You're not listening to me!" Madame shouted, outraged. The Princess fought the urge to grab the stupid ruler, whack Madame upside the head, and then run from the room before the old bat could regain her senses.

But she was well-learned in self-control. So instead of giving in to those homicidal urges she just stayed more still, and tried to remember, 'Only two more hours…two more…'

"You're SLOUCHING again!" WHACK. This was going to get ugly soon.

She was limping towards her room, rubbing her arms tenderly, when she was just about bowled over by the same maid who'd awoken her.

"Oh! M'lady it's such a wonderful day!" The maid cried.

"…Why?"

"He's here! He's Here! Finally!"

"Who is here?" She asked, interest piqued.

"Your husband!" The world shook. She gulped hard, trying to keep from doing a sissy-girl thing like fainting.

The one thing she wanted more than Madame Daneesh to suddenly keel over: Her husband to never come.

But the maid would have none of that. She simply grabbed her mistress by the arm and dragged her to the front of the castle.

"Okay. Stand straight, fold your hands. When you see him, bow for a five-count and then you can straighten up. Don't speak first – it's rude. And try not to say anything…inappropriate!" The maid pleaded. The Princess' head was spinning. She was going to finally meet him! She had seen him only once – when she was eight. But that was so long ago that she had no memories of him whatsoever.

"Here he comes!" The maid whispered and vanished inside.

Her hair was not right. The Princess panicked, brushing the loose strands from her face and then twitching over the aggravating Kimono sleeves. Did they HAVE to cover her hands by a good two feet?

She sat two boots. Silk pants…obviously this was the Prince.

Swallowing her pride she followed instructions and bowed, counting to five. And then she straightened, and her eyes traveled to his jaw. It was set, almost as if he was angry.

She felt her throat go numb and her mouth go dry.

With effort, she lifted her eyes to his.

And went stock-still.

They were cold. Mean, and cold. Frighteningly icy…they caused the Princess to consider how long she could survive trying to swim the ocean.

"Hello." She squeaked.

A/N:

Dove: Sorry this is so short. But I was going NUTS not being able to use her stupid bloody name! How 'bout some guesses as to who it is? - I'll reveal her identity in the next chapter. And yes, the other stories ARE getting attention! =Cough= Really… -