For the drawing competition


1. Amalianborg

She stood in the courtyard, in front of Moltkes Palace and watched them prance about like horses clad in white and blue and black. They ignored her, as they were supposed to. She, on the other hand wasn't supposed to be there. She shivered in the pale winter, ghostly white. He was there, and gave her an almost imperceptible nod before stepping into formation, back into line, rifle raised, strutting proudly. The guards had finished their ceremony and now he was on duty.

"My princess, you'll catch your death!"

Her lady in waiting came bursting into her view, ignored by the guards now leaving the courtyard, to patrol other areas of the palace. But she refused to break her eye contact with him until, at last, the fussing maid swooped her up and pushed her back towards the warm indoors, like an angry goose with ruffled feathers.

"Going outside in the dead of winter, without so much as a coat! The king shall have my head on a platter! What were you thinking?"

"I was watching the guard change," she murmured mindlessly, heart floating. She chanced a glance backwards. His blue eyes were following her as she left, silently full of memories and secrets.

"Well, watch them from the window next time. Even Nyhavn has frozen over in this hellish chill."

"I will," she promised, knowing all too well it was a lie. God rest her soul, he was a guard, and she a princess. What had she been thinking, indeed? That she was akin to Catherine the Great, taking lovers as she pleased? If her parents had known, they would have had her maids head indeed, and then her own. It was over, she vowed. No more.

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