Noon.
Palace, Springton.
*************
Once, long before in a land that existed before Critic-Arley was ever dreamed of, in the sprawling gardens of the royal palace, bathed in the golden glow of a summer afternoon, a scene unfolded that danced between mischief and innocence.
Amidst the fragrant blossoms and the trimmed hedges was a young girl, adorned in a simple sundress that fluttered lightly in the warm breeze, she darted behind a large marble fountain dodging the scrutiny of the palace guards and maids with glee.
Her name was Princess Alice, and she possessed an energy that rivaled the lively dance of the fountain's waters.
Her eyes, as deep and mesmerizing as the ocean itself, sparkled mischievously beneath her raven-black locks as she moved.
