Rosala could barely stop herself from squealing as she realized her father might not actually be dead. He might just be stranded or-or maybe his horse was injured and he had to rest. Anything was better than him dead.

All thoughts of their previous mission deserted them as, quickly, she and her brother altered their course so that they would reach the area that the whinny had come from, and with wishful thoughts they set off silently, the only sound hearable being of hooves hitting ground.

Before they knew it, they came across a place that could not be described as anything but a castle. There, they found her father's horse, Faith, in one of the stables. She gasped when she realized what that meant for her father.

"Do you know what this means for father," she asked Braydon.

"Yes," he responded, "Father is here"

With new hope, the two bounded into the gargantuan structure in search of their father. Neither could believe what they saw. The interior of the palace looked like it had been bought from a hundred years ago and been untouched since. There were two grand staircases that that branched off into all sorts of paths, but one path stood out from the others.

It was covered in thick, thorny, green vines like an overgrown plant was covering the walls. Each vine was at least an arm thick and some even curled around each other. It reminded her of a rose plant she had seen once. The thorns on both plants looked exactly the same.

"I'll take this path," Rosala decided, pointing towards the thorn filled path, "After all, who here knows plants?"

Braydon looked skeptical, and Rosala feared that he would disagree and not allow her to go, but after a moment, his expression changed and he caved.

"Alright, just...take my sword. I hope you won't need it, but I have a bad feeling, call it brotherly intuition," he said hesitantly, removing his sword prom its scabbard before tossing it to her. She easily caught it, and with one last glance from her brother, she set off.

***

After walking for a while, the weight of her brother's sword heavy in her hand, she came to a sudden stop as she heard something. It sounded like...pleading. It sounded like her father pleading.

Quickly, she raced to where she heard it from to be greeted by a sight she thought she would never have to see. Her father was in a cell looking distraught and frightened. He was mumbling barely audible words about being 'sorry' and 'not knowing'.

"Father. Papa, I'm here, it's all right," Rosala tried her best to put his worries at ease as she rubbed his shoulder through the cell bars in an attempt to calm him down. She wondered what could have possibly put her father so on edge, but she got her answer before she could even get the question out, in the form of a voice from behind her.

"Two in one week. Well isn't it just my lucky day," a voice from behind Rosala said sarcastically, in a startlingly cold voice.

"Who's there?" She called out loudly in the direction she had heard the voice from while taking up a fighting stance with her sword.

After she didn't get a reply after a moment she asked instead why her father was there. This time she got an answer.

"He stole something precious from me," he said in explanation. However, she was surprised that his voice came from a different location, although, still in the shadows.

Rosala could hardly believe that her law abiding father was capable of committing a crime like stealing so she asked him what he stole in an attempt to catch his lie, for surely her father would never dare to resort to thievery. As he often told his children, even at your poorest you can still be rich in honor or character, and if her father was a thief, he was truly poor.

"He stole a rose. Plucked it right off a bush in the garden. I showed him hospitality. I allowed him to stay in my home when he was lost and caught in a storm. I gave him grand food, a bed to sleep in-even riches, riches of his greatest dreams... and what does he do? HE STEALS WHAT IS MOST PRECIOUS TO ME! MY MOST PRIZED POSSESSION! For this, I locked him up in a cell like the thief he is." He answered, obviously enraged. Again, though, his voice came from another place in the room, and she marveled at the fact that he was able to move across the room so silently.

As she realized the truth of the situation, her face which had been twisted in concentration, cleared.

A rose, she thought, this was all her fault. She had been the one to ask her father for the silly flower. She was the one who should have been in the cell.

"I was the one who asked for the flower, not my father. Don't punish him, please... punish me," she proposed bravely.

The man that the voice belonged to seemed to consider her words. After a long silence, Rosala began to worry that he had decided against what she had said, but a second before she opened her mouth again, he answered.

"As you wish," he finally announced, both relaxing and worrying Arabellla simultaneously. How could she ever survive locked up in a cage, after all, but at the same time she knew that her family would benefit much more from her father returning home with Braydon rather than her in his place. This final thought was the last push she needed to accept her fate.

She was doing this for her family. 

Her family. 

Her amazing, wonderful family that she would never see again.

Nevertheless, she would carry out with her plan no matter what. She had to. 

For her family.

So that was exactly what she did. She caught the pair of keys the man tossed her, and, without further a due, unlocked her father's cell.

Her father continuously blubbered something either about not being able to 'take another loss' or about her 'taking his place' and why 'it was simply unfathomable'.

"Look, papa," she began after shushing him, "I'll be alright. You're what matters right now. Braydon is searching for you right now. If you go straight then turn right, you'll find him. Convince him to leave with you. Say that I'm right behind you two on a stolen horse and tell him to start back home without me. Tell him the truth when you reach home safely. Keep the family safe. If you're ever about to give up, if you think you just can't take it anymore, think about me and take care of them for me," she lowered her voice, "so when I escape this place I'll see them again in good health and filled with happiness"

Her father nodded hastily before slowly making his way out of the room with his usual limp. It was obvious to Arabella that he had still not entirely registered his situation, and that was the only reason he let her go so easily. Like a child, he had took in only the task he had to do and how he would have to do it. He had not yet realized the fate he would have had if his youngest daughter had not saved him. Nor did he process how his daughter was now damned to the fate he would have had unless she intervened.

The confusion in the air that was resonating from the mysterious man was almost tangible, but he too left soon after her father, leaving her alone. Or atleast that was what she thought, for in a corner far from her range of vision was a raven, and this raven reported to a witch... and this witch had been watching the so-called man for a while.