The Winner's Crown

"Shush, and be quiet." The man from the alleyway say's, silencing me with a gentle finger to my lips that sparks an electric sort of feeling through my body. Shaking with fear and yet so much curiosity, I allow myself to feel calm again, following the man's instructions.

A soft hand presses against my head, tracing the line's that mark my re-injured head wound. And I tense, as he begins to put pressure where the blood stains my skin.

"Am I hurting you?" The man asks quietly, and I nod my head yes just so he will stop touching me. But he doesn't, instead only loosening his grip on my forehead.

"What are you doing?" I manage to get out, but it sounds more like a croak than a question.

"I'm helping stop the blood." The man tells me, but I shake my head. I can hear the men in the wagon around us, continue to talk, masking our quiet conversation, but I still feel completely exposed.

"That is not what I mean." I say softly, my voice much more steady this time I speak.

"Then what is it that you mean?" Alley-man asks, and I can sense that he has moved closer to me, blocking me from sight, so the other men cannot see me.

"Where are you taking me?" I ask. "And why?" I add quickly. He doesn't respond as quickly as I would have liked, but nonetheless, he responds.

"It is not my place to tell."

"But you are one of the men who captured me. Are you not?" I ask boldly. Kenneth told me to be bold. This is one way of showing it. The man laughs, a deep sound that reminds me of our encounter in the alleyway, the drawing...Kenneth.

"And why should I respond to such an accusation?" He asks, and I can practically hear the smirk plastered to his face.

"Because, no matter what, you know that I won't stop asking until I get a plausible explanation." I answer, trying to make my voice sound as innocent as can be. I once read a text that said, men find it more approachable, when a lady uses such a voice. Such a strange thought, and yet completely reasonable.

"Believe it or not, your word's, no matter how they are said, will not make me talk. And they will not influence my actions either. So just as I told you to watch that head of yours, I am now telling you to watch your mouth. Especially where you are headed. And that is all I am saying Miss. Now please, try and get some rest, because I will tell you this, where you are being taken, there are no second chances. So best start being your proper ladylike self where there are no consequences. So when you arrive at our destination, you will be prepared for what's to come. You don't have to trust me. I get it, you don't know me. But if you are to survive, you need to, at the very least, trust my words." The man tells me, and as I ponder his words, I decide to trust the stranger I met in a strange place, and in a strange way.

I can sense we aren't in the forest anymore when I smell food's I only wish I could consume. I have only ever eaten yellow food's, which mean's I am only allowed to eat what my family can produce ourselves. (Apples, cow milk, eggs, etc.) Of course, we can buy food at the market as well, but it's just the same food we grow ourselves, only marked up at a higher price. A luxury we could never afford, even though it is exactly the same foods.

But the thing's I am smelling isn't the work of a family of farmers. At least, I don't think it is. It smell's way to sweet to be anything a yellow would be allowed to consume. Which means, we must be in upper class territory.

I have only ever read about the towns of the Pinks and Purples through text's that my brother's brought home, after their lessons learning about history and math's. I used to beg them to read their books, and they would refuse until I annoyed them so much, that they had to give in and teach me about fascinating land forms and natural resources, their history lesson's had taught them about. And alongside those texts, was texts about upper class regions.

These texts were much less detailed, but detailed nonetheless. In the towns was said to be stores containing sweet food's that weren't even produced on a farm, or by farmer's either, but rather something called a bakery, and someone called a baker. When my brother's explained this to me, I was amazed by the mere image of such a thing. And it boggled my mind that such thing's existed in the world.

If I had only known, that one day, I would get to smell such excellent food's myself. Of course though, this isn't how I would like to have experienced such a thing. But if I hadn't been captured, I would never have gotten the chance. You see, only Blues, Pinks, and Purples have the right and ability to travel. Green's, all the way down to yellow's, cannot leave their home villages. That is why I have spent all my life wondering about the rest of the people being forced to live a life filled with such extreme living conditions, and yet, have never been able to leave my village. And why doesn't anyone leave? Well, everything from the forests, to the villages, is being guarded by the King's Royal guards. At least that's what I have heard.

Rumor's spread quickly among my small village.

"We're here. Desmond, you know where to take the girl? Correct?" I hear a man ask.

"Yes, of course. I am not a fool River." The man I now call alley-man answers back firmly. So, now I finally have a name to the man I have discovered is trying to help me. Or at least, doesn't want to kill me.

"Be still, don't make a sound." The man called Desmond tell's me, scooping me up in his arms. My face grow's warm at his touch, and I have to remind myself where I am and what situation I am in, to keep myself from opening my eyes, and jumping away from the sparks that continue to dance where his arms meet my back.

I can only imagine what a mess I may look. My dress torn, my head an open wound, hair tangled in a knot all around me, and my face and arms covered in dirt and grime. And yet, Desmond doesn't tense at our touching skin, instead bringing me closer to his chest. And if I didn't know any better, I'd think he was trying to keep me safe. But I do, know better. He is still a stranger, no matter how much it feel's like I have known him my whole life. He is no friend of mine. And I am no friend of his.

Desmond begin's to walk, his feet hitting the ground hard, and even from so far off the ground, I can feel the impact throughout my whole body.

We walked like that for what seemed like forever, but was probably only around twenty minutes, before Desmond start's ascending a large object. Weighing my option's in my head, I decide to sneak a peak out of the corner of my eye. And what I see astounds me.

We are walking up the most giant staircase I have ever seen. It is made of a nice material, maybe granite, and is so steep, that with each step, I brace myself for a fall that never comes. I still have no clue where we are though, my guess though, is somewhere in the Pink or Purple district. I have heard about and seen some amazing texts that show pictures of beautiful homes, and extraordinary sights that could only be described as an upper class town or luxury. And this is definitely one.

Chancing another look, up to where Desmond is taking me, I almost gasp out loud when I see that we are stepping up to a huge home. A home way to big for only one family. Maybe 30 families could manage to live here, all with their own living quarters even.

"Don't overthink it." Desmond tell's me when he see's that I am looking wide eyed at the gigantic home in front of us. It is so huge that for a second I almost think it is a...

"No. It can't be. But...if so, why?" I say aloud, startling even myself.

"So you know where we are?" Desmond asks, his eyes going wide, scaring me.

"I think so. Why? Why do you look so startled by my intelligence?" I ask him boldly. But he doesn't answer, only smiling his familiar smirk I've gotten to know more and more, each time we ran in to each other.

A spark of interest find's it's way into my mind. If I am where I think I am, does that mean that I will get to see my brother again? But soon after the thought enter's my mind, an even scarier one run's it's way into my thoughts. What if I am here for some dark purpose? What? I have no idea. But it is just a thought anyways. But a scary one, that I wish not to be true.

"Close your eyes." Desmond instructs me, and I follow his command, shutting my eyelids tightly over my pupils. So tight even, that shapes begin to dance their way over my vision. "Desmond Williams." He say's making my mind spin with questions. Why did he say his name aloud?

But when I hear the hinges of two large door's open, and the shuffle of guards moving to salute, I realize the answer to that question. But it is too late to make a run for it now, and besides, my mistake has already been made. It was made that day in the alleyway, when I let a stranger help me. And the mistake was turned deadly when I let that same stranger coax me into trusting him. I think that out of all my errors, that is the one I regret the most.

Echo's of distant foot fall's, sound across the walls of what I now know for sure, is the Royal palace.

"Good, you brought her." I hear the nasty voice of someone very familiar, greet Desmond. Opening my eyes, despite the earlier warning of Desmond, I see the King and his family walk down the step's of the elaborate staircase in front of us.

"What is wrong with you? I trusted you!" I say, knowing that no matter what I do now, I am dead. I best go out being bold and unladylike, than ladylike and naive. "For a second you had me fooled Desmond. For a second, I thought you were on my side. Whatever that may have meant. And then I learn the truth. I learn that you are a part of all this." I gesture to the King and his family wildly. "I learn, you help protect them of all thing's. But don't you see, you are a servant to them! And being a Royal guard doesn't make you a hero either!" I finish, tear's starting to leak from my eyes. I had been so foolish. To think that he was good. No Pink, no Purple, would ever help a yellow.

From the stairs I hear a laugh, so familiar. It reminds me of something I have heard before.

"You foolish, foolish yellow. You, girl, never once considered the possibility of something so much greater. Now did you?" The King say's, walking towards me, his golden robes dragging heavily on the floor. Grabbing my head by the chin, he forces me to look up at him. "You disappoint me. I would have thought that you'd have figured it out by now." The King continues, but I am lost, I have no idea what is happening, and what he is referring to as he call's me stupid to my face.

"Miss Lydia Moore..." The King starts, backing away from me slowly, and allowing Desmond to move across the room with him. Grabbing the pure gold crown sitting atop his head, he extends it out in front of him. "Meet Prince Desmond William's." He finishes, dropping the crown on his son's head.