Fen had fitted herself nicely in between the overgrowth of fronds. The leaves, a manufactured hideaway, as she attempted to stuff her bright-colored body beneath the shadows they wielded. She had thought she had done a decent job, enough so that she held back a chuff of pride that wished to slip from her teeth, when she realized she had been unnoticed.

She almost prided herself on the tantalizing belief that perhaps she could be a spy, an envoy of darkness and mystery. Her father, after all, wished her to think about a direction she’d like to pursue, and this one—this one felt fitting. If the Empress’s imperial guard could not spot her, then who could?

And all was well within the Princess’s mind as she drifted in idle thought, ears half lowered across her skull as a song slipped into the breeze beside them. The man was singing.

And sure, there was the difficult quandary Fen would have to face in due time—the dilemma of how to escape from the man’s prying eyes and ears. But as he wove a tale of song, words dripped in harmonious notes, Fen found herself unable—unwilling—to move.

She always loved good music, and who was she to deny her ears its sweet sound?

And so she had made a deal with herself: as soon as the man was done singing his sweet notes, surely he would be on his way, and Fen would take her chance to disappear once more.

But be it the Celestial Dragon’s will or just poor timing.

It was then that a breeze brushed by.

— but not any type of simple breeze, a gusting bellow that pushed aside her crafty hiding spot, sending dirt and debris, and even the fragments of fallen leaflets straight into the princess’s face.

A squeak fell from her lips then, just as the squirming of her body as she attempted to remove what foliage now stood tangled and strewn in her fur. And her hiding spot? Gone—nothing more than some trampled leaves and kicked up dirt.

Her gaze slowly turned toward the Empress’s Guard, a look of embarrassment and mortification ripe along her features as her stomach sank and her heart hammered loudly. She stood crouched, as if her body still believed to be in hiding, as her ears fell across her skull and an awkward, sheepish giggle fell from her lips.

Fen scrambled to her paws as quickly as a child who feared the consequence of tardiness, and dipped her head into a quiet-minded bow. My apologies, She cooed through a softened note of her own, the heat of her own embarrassment warming the tips of her ears as she spoke. I did not mean to pry, She started again, albeit a little awkwardly, as she politely attempted to clear her throat from the sudden dryness she now experienced. Or leer...Merely, I was just on a walk…and the song you hummed piqued my interest.

It was half the truth, if one could disregard Fen’s previous attempt to slip from the eyes of her own guards to travel the roads of the forest alone.

Please don’t tell my father, She whispered meekly.