Her had brushed against the stone wall as she stepped up the staircase. Her right hand against the wall, her left clutching something against her chest as she looked behind her a few times. The sun was setting slowly outside, tonight was her night to be by herself. The tower stairwell was lined with torches up to the highest peak, she lifted her skirt again as she took the steps two at a time. Isobel Talios, no, Princess Isobel Talios. Her family lived by the sea shore, harbor city along the coast. The view from the top of the tower was breathtaking.

She pushed her dark blond hair from her face as she moved up the steps, heading to the doorway, pulling on the iron door at the top of the staircase. Inside was a large open room, a rug covering part of the stone flooring. Floor to ceiling windows surrounded the circular room. And the sun was setting in a mishmash of brilliant colors across the sea from the window. Walking up to the far window, after securing the door closed, she smiled to herself. Watching the sunset, the waters swirling underneath, bathed in the blues and purple colors. Breathing a happy sigh, she turned from the window. Looking around the room, she put her hands on her hips, a pendant necklace in her hand glowed softly as she concentrated, looking up at the torches on the walls.

A stiff breeze blew gently, lighting each of the torches on the wall in a row. As they spluttered to life, Isobel smiled, lifting the pendant looking at the purple glow swirling on the surface. "Finally." She breathed, "This week was just too awful for words." She turned away from the window, spinning in a small circle as her skirts flared out. She was a short girl, with long dark blond hair to just past her elbows, it flowed around her as she spun. Her skin pale, her eyes blue, she wore a simple gown, with a few layers of cloth. It wrapped around her and her arms bare to the cold room. The gown was a pale pink, with a blue over skirt.

Tossing the pendant into the air, it caught on an air current. It was held in the air long enough, and she snapped her fingers and it dropped into her open palm. Isobel could feel the magic flowing through her veins, pulsing under her skin as she closed her eyes. Feeling the air buffet her at her command, taking a deep breath.

She dropped the magic hearing a clicking noise that made her stop. Princess Isobel clutched the pendant in her hand as she looked at the door for several long drawn out moments, her breath caught in her throat. Panic rising but no noises followed, the silence deafened her as she stood. Breathing through her mouth she turned back away from the door. Princess Isobel relaxed for a moment, breathing a sigh of relief as the noise was gone. She must have just been hearing things. That had to be it. So much of the day had worn on her that even the fun she had tonight was being encroached on.

Spending the entire day with the dull suitor that her father wanted her to marry was not her idea of fun. The man was exceedingly dull, spent most of the day talking about the shipping reports of his various vessels. But it was one of the only men that her father approved, even if he was lower in status, he was not one of the magic mongering people of the east. He was of the families of the harbor cities that her father ruled. And he was some duke or baron or something stupid like that. All these people were dull, and only talking about his ships and their cargo and when and where and how much.

She motioned to the floor, a chair appeared out of the air, and she sat down in it's overstuffed gloriousness. Leaning back, looking at the pendant in her hands. It was fate, that she came into possession of this trinket. One day in town, it just appeared for her. In a vendors stall, she thought it was pretty, that was the only reason she had bought it. But she found when she came home that night that it housed immense power. Something that she craved, feeling less weak than she did during the day. It felt awful, feeling so weak and helpless. But with the power of the pendant, she felt the strength, coursing through her veins. It was just freeing.

Isobel needed this. She toyed with the pendant on her lap, thinking about what she wanted to try tonight, the last time she made it up here, she was trying to float off the ground, but she only got a couple inches before the magic failed. She had noticed the light fading on the pendant, she hoped that it wasn't dying. But it was magic, magic was infinite. She felt weaker when she did not use it. Like much more than she had before. It frightened her to a point but she enjoyed the power.

Sighing, she sunk into the chair, feeling a little tired. Just a few minutes with her eyes closed then she'd continue, she thought.

Numbers were always tracing about in his head. For as long as Kiaran could remember, that had been the case; he would count anything that he could, then count it again, then again if there was nothing else to do. Numbers just floated in his mind. They stuck there, too- when he was a boy, apples were sixteen silver pieces per. Now, they were twenty two silver pieces per, but that was beside the point. The point was that Kiaran knew his numbers. He knew that it had been eight years, three months, two weeks, and five days since he had been caught.

He also knew that he had one more year, one month, two weeks, and three days until he was a free man again. He recalled that his magic ring had cost eight gold pieces. He remembered that he had used it for two years, eight months, three weeks, and six days until he was caught. Now, he was here. He was a servant. He was nothing. To be fair, it wasn't entirely different from how things had been before- but at least there, he controlled his own nothingness. Here, Kiaran was ordered around and sneered at. The entire staff knew why he was there, and they looked down on him for it. Many of them were serving in repentance for petty crimes, too, but apparently they were his better because they hadn't used magic.

Or, at the very least, they hadn't been caught using it. Some had gloated and teased him about that, though Kiaran doubted the truth of what they said. Either way, it didn't matter. Kiaran was teased, though tolerated, but that was the best of his welcome. Even now, he took his simple meal- leftovers from the royal family's lavish food- and promptly left the kitchen with his bowl of bits. He went to an ugly, unused part of the garden to eat. His meal was silent, and numbers danced in his head. He shut his eyes, then opened them again; part of a still pool was in this little bit of flora, so the servant peered into it.

What did he expect to see? Something different? Some benevolent, magical lady who would take him away from here, and return him to the bliss that was the magic he once knew? No, that was asinine. All that Kiaran saw in the water was himself: dark skin and only a stubble of black hair growing over his scalp, dark eyes- angry eyes, perhaps- and muscles and scars under his loose, tan vest. His legs would have been in a similar state, if he looked at them, under his tan breeches. Kiaran wore know boots, leaving his feet as calloused and tough as the palms of his hands.

Kiaran did mostly physical work; it was due to that that his clothing was so open. He did not usually need to be presentable, which suited him well. Kiaran had been a lumber worker, once, before coming here. Now he did yard work, mostly, and cared for animals when bid to do so, but all of it was physical work.

But he didn't bother to spent much time reflecting on that- after all, he worked well with numbers, not memories. Or at least, not ones like those. So, finished with his meal, Kiaran stood and went to the kitchen, and returned the bowl. His day was over, and he was ready to return to his quarters, when an annoyed butler stopped him. "You," he'd said, with an aggressive point. "Find Princess Isobel, would you? It is late, and her highness needs her rest." After receiving a grunt of recognition from Kiaran, the butler left, and the servant swore under his breath. She could be anywhere! He could spend all night looking for her.

But perhaps luck was with him, for a maid, beating a rug, paused to look up at him. "I sa' 'er goin' t' th' westurn towa," the girl said. Kiaran thanked her, and started for it. That was certainly a start, and it was nice to hear someone not tease him about the ring he'd had, for once. The tower was four hundred seventy two steps away, and contained three hundred sixty four steps. It was strange that Isobel would come here; this tower was mostly empty, save for some store room supplies on the lower level, as far as Kiaran was aware. But royalty was strange, and he was certainly out of any sort of loops.

He reached the top door and would have knocked, but curiosity took hold of him instead. He peered through the keyhole. The princess was looking at the door, nervously, then turned away, and conjoured a chair. Magic! The princess, using magic! In shock, Kiaran was frozen for a moment, and in that moment, Isobel sat down into her new chair and shut her eyes. Kiaran straightened up, and considered his options: he could confront her, or he could use this... No, that was risky. Who would believe his word over hers?

But he could try. So, fearlessly, Kiaran opened the door. "Princess Isobel?"

Isobel breathed a sigh, as she relaxed in the chair, the magic dully pulsing in her veins. Her mind had wondered away from the room, to the boring day she had and the week she would soon have to endure. Her fingers traced the pendant's front, the smooth surface was dully warm as she continued to sit there. She could feel the power pulsing from it and into her limbs. Tracing the power from the pendant it ran up her arm and into her chest and from there it spread throughout her body giving her strength of body and soundness in her mind. A calm feeling.

She jumped as the door opened, staring at the servant who spoke. She clutched the pendant in her right hand, as her heart pounded. "Who…what…" She could not find the words. The calmness that had been in her mind prior was shattered as all she could think about was whether he had seen anything or not. Was he the noise she heard earlier? Her hand clutched into a fist around the pendant as she stood up from the chair. Staring at him, "What are you doing up here?" she tried to keep her voice calm and even as she watched him. Putting her hands behind her back, she shifted the weight between her feet. "No one should be up here."

Trying to keep herself clam, she took in the appearance of the servant. He obviously was not one of her guards or one of her personal servants. He looked to be one of the people who worked out in the gardens. His bare feet, his clothing, she could only watch him for a moment longer before letting out an inaudible breath. Maybe he did not see anything? But if he had and she does not address it now then he might tell someone of her magic and she would have it taken away. Or worse, her father may not forgive her for this infringement and use her to show that no one is safe from the law about magic.

A knot of anxiety twisted in her stomach as she tried to keep eye contact with the servant. If he had not seen anything, then saying anything was the last thing that she wanted. It would do her no good to tell him something that he could use against her. Her fingers clung to the magic pendant behind her back, using the magic briefly to help clear her mind of the panic, sooth her anxiety ridden chest, and keep herself from melting into hysteria over this person finding her.

"I had this evening off from duties. I found this place and decided to relax and watch the sun—" She gestured to the large windows and the setting sun. "—It is a grand view from up here. So who is it that sent you?" She paused in her words, awaiting his answer. "No matter." Isobel had an idea pop into her mind as she stood there, slipping the pendant into a small pocket in her dress on the back without making much of a move. Smoothing out her dress, she turned away from the servant.

There was something she could do about this situation. She could make him a servant under her instead, she would have to speak to the head of where he worked now to find him a suitable job. But then she could be sure that he did not see anything. Turning back to look at him, he could make a decent guard, she thought, looking at his muscles. That would be useful. She nodded to herself. "Well. Speak."