It was downright agonising to imagine what Tajo was going through with his devoid of patience combined with his boundless craving for freedom. But of course, Arwin was too stubborn to ask. Asking would make it obvious that he cared, and caring—or rather, showing that he cared—was something that he could never do if his life depended on it. Frankly, it was beneath him. In a dog eat dog world, there was no time for affection; endearment even less so.

Queen Jane screeched in falsetto usually reserved for the worst of crimes, such as getting jam on an imported silk dress.

She ran through a maze of buildings and winding side streets as the sky rumbled, and heavy rain bounced off the cobblestones. A storm smothered the sun, greying the world around her. Drops of rain beat against her skin like hammers. The princess wasn’t at all fazed by it. Her dainty slippers were caked in mud and the storm had battered her braided golden hair into a tangled mess. She wasn’t scared. To a child who had hardly ever been past the palace gates, this was a grand adventure.