Recapitulation: 

"Hello? Is anyone there?" I called out. 

A shadow stepped from behind the nearest ash tree. It was male.

"I take it you've finished dressing?" The familiar voice called out, and I felt my knees go weak.

----

Stephanie wandered through a silvery haze, her vision misty and unclear. She had seen this before - it was a story, returned from her grade school life, and brought from the pages of a story into live action. She had always supposed it was some strange version of Cinderella, but it was much more than that this time. The girl stood before her. 

Long, golden hair swayed at her hips, and eyes as clear as the pools of a mythical fountain stared back at her. It was obvious that the female had been scarred before, maybe hurt, maybe destroyed by those she had decided to associate with, but her scars and hurt were all gone. They had disappeared, maybe with the mist. 

Stephanie stared at the girl in amazement: her glowing complexion, her flowing, silky gown, her intent stare that burned holes into her own consciousness as if the lady before her had known her for the entirety of Stephanie's existence. And she had. Because Stephanie was looking in a mirror.

Turning around, she found herself in a verdant forest, the decadent glass and golden frame of the mirror sparkling beneath a single ray of sunlight which shot between the branches. She paused and watched for a moment, not flinching as the glass shattered, and absorbed itself into her own skin.

"You misunderstood."

Stephanie quivered. She wasn't alone, and now her only friend - the reflection of herself - had disappeared, too. Eyelids shut, she took a deep breath, inhaling the sweet scent of pine and petrichor, and something else; maybe  a man? It was comforting, whatever it was. And it wrapped around her like one of her grandmother's old shawls.

"I'm so sorry."

Forgiveness flooded through her heart, deep into the marrow of her bones, and as she opened her mouth to offer words of sympathy to the poor soul speaking to her, she found that no bit of language would dare escape those supple lips. Instead, she was floating, bouncing - being carried? The grog in her vision only worsened.

"It won't happen again."

At this point, shadows were coming from all directions, flooding the wood before her as if she were an arc, and they were ready to carry her away into a distant sea. But she wasn't ready. The dark waters before her seemed foreboding and menacing, ready to turn her over any second and drown her beneath their unforgiving depths. They wanted to wrench her from her comfort zone, tear her limb by limb, take the dagger, and ---

Stephanie awoke with a jolt, gasping and choking for breaths as her eyes scanned the scene before her. Whatever it was, a dream perhaps, she couldn't quite remember, and the weighted feeling was lifting with the light of day. One thing was certain - she was no longer in the woods.

An expanse of down and expensive-looking silks burried her beneath pillows and blankets and an awfully bedspread. She shifted uncomfortably - how long had it been since she'd slept like this? After her time in the forest, she had grown accustomed to using rocks as pillows and moss as blankets, and she wasn't sure she found this new luxury before her necessary.

Scanning the room cautiously, her eyes narrowed - velvet drapes swung from the four posters of her over-sized bed, cotton drapes with fine embroidery dawdled along the window frames, and polished wooden objects, delicately carved with vines, animals, knobs, and ends, littered the room as if they had been placed with perfect accordance to the proportions of the room. Cushioned chairs, wardrobes, thick rugs, hand-painted walls, even a fire place - she couldn't help but wonder if she had travelled back into 18th century France. It was magnificent.

Discarding the plump sheets, she stood, shivering slightly with the chill of a fine, spring breeze from one of the opened windows. Stephanie was wearing nothing but a simple nightgown, but it definitely had -not- been what she was wearing before. Gripping the bedpost for support, she held her head as the memory came flooding back - her knees had gone weak when he had finally come to rescue her. But who was he? A name nipped at the back of her mind, but she couldn't seem to recall. Suddenly forced back into a life like this - she wasn't sure she was prepared.

Wandering over to the open window, her breath caught in her throat. She was at least one story high, and it was definite that she was still in the same forest - well, maybe she would be if she walked nearly half a mile away. Extensive gardens and intricate fountains, pavement, and benches extended before her. A crowd of people wandered through, a group of peasant-looking people meandered around the behind of hedges. 

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Someone inquired, wrapping his - or at least she assumed it was a he, as it had a particularly deep voice - arms around her waist, and pulling her into his chest. She struggled at first, eyes wide with fear. The stranger had surprised her, but she couldn't help but recognize that it was the same voice from earlier, and someone smite her down from heaven if she was wrong, but he had some beautifully carved forearms. Hot damn.

"Who are you?" she asked, although her voice and body quivered simulateneously with his touch. She shivered, and not from the wind, but from the feel of his warm, comforting touch against her particularly thin night gown. There was a pause, before he twirled her around to look at him. 

A name bit at the tip of her tongue. Blonde hair. Emerald eyes.

"It's me," he began, breathless and uncertain before the beautified creature before him. "Kaito. You remember me, don't you?"

Memories flooded before her, and wooziness overtook her. He gripped her tightly, hands at her hips. A rogue strand of hair obstructed her view, but he returned it tenderly to its proper place. 

"I remember," she spoke, finally, her voice so much more different than before. "I remember that you were the reason I left."

She didn't sound broken, no. She sounded clear, her words a song entwined among a string of pearls that dazzled friends and strangers alike. His features changed so that his brows contorted with pain, and his grip grew tighter. 

"I never meant to hurt you, Stephanie." She had to stop listening for a moment because the way he pronounced her name intoxicated her.

"It was all a ruse; Mandy, she's a vixen, to put it lightly. We had a thing at one time, I tried to end it, and when she found out I was losing to you, she couldn't take it. I was denying her, but she came on to me so quickly that I couldn't stop her, and then you came in, and..." he paused, trailing off. He wrapped his arms around my shoulders, and any feeling of the spring chill that was there before had suddenly vanished.

"I missed you. You are mine. And I am yours. Forever and always," he affirmed, and she believed him. He was sincere, and their time together had been short. But life is short. And the tingling feeling she felt when he was near... she wanted to feel it more. 

"And what of that woman?" she inquired, a brow raised. His joyful expression fell, and he pulled back, a sour expression poisoning his features.

"She's still here, unfortunately. But you've missed a great deal, and there's much that remains  unknown to you  about the current political situation," he commented, watching me carefully. There seemed to be something behind his words, but I didn't understand. 

"Such as...?" I began, tilting my head to the side as a signal that he should proceed. He flashed me a brilliant smile.

"Well, for starters, my father is the man with the power. Everyone loves him, and it was a mutual decision that he should be the one to exact justice among the people of our recovering society," he chirped, as he trailed kisses along my cheeks and jawline and forehead. I batted my lashes, practically immobile in his arms. 

"That makes me his heir. And you, my beautiful darling," he continued, pulling himself away for just a moment to look me up and down. "Will be my bride."