"The Prince - Prologue" by Jessica M. Jordan

The place shouldn’t be quite this dark, she thought as she went around the corner. True, it was almost closing time for the museum - but the lights should still be up all the way. She just wanted to see it again before she went home for Christmas. As she rounded the last corner she took a deep breath and smiled. There it was - "The Prince." Tay sat down on the bench in front of her most beloved piece of art in the whole world and leaned back on her palms. There was something about it that just kept her staring. Those eyes, they were just too green. That figure, too perfect. The smirk, too inviting.

Tay had been coming to the museum since she had discovered it during her year abroad. She loved France. She felt like she belonged - every piece of history that she could see around her every day felt like it was her own history. And it was gorgeous. She had been on countless day trips to palaces, landmarks, museums, and numerous other places. She was truly in love with this country. Her area of study was History, and this was the perfect place to pursue it. The semester was almost over, and she would have to go back to the good old US of A soon. It wasn’t that North Carolina wasn’t her favorite place in the world - but this place had so much more to offer, so much history, so much wisdom, so much culture that she had lacked. She felt like she was home here.

The oil painting looked as fresh as the day it had been painted. It should have, it was covered in pressure sensitive glass to keep it that way. But that didn’t stop Tay from spending hours in front of it. Every time there was a new story in her head of what had happened to the man in the picture. He looked noble, royal almost. He was standing in front of a stained glass window, dressed in a rich green robe, was a bit pale in the face, and had shoulder length black hair. He was beautiful. Maybe he had been a Knight or a Duke. But the really intriguing part of the painting wasn’t the man - it was what he had in his cupped hand. The blood was dark, deep red - almost brown, and it had started to drip from his fingers. The smirk on "The Prince" suggested that he had caused the blood to be there, but how? Why? When? The artist was unknown, and that gave Tay even more reason to be interested.

Tonight’s story would be a good one., she closed her eyes for a moment and then opened them - looking at the Prince. Yes, he was Prince tonight. He had covered a woman’s wound with that hand, and saved her life. Yes. The blood was nobly won. That still didn’t explain the smirk. Maybe the woman had been attractive and wealthy. That’s it. The woman had been in disguise and was royalty of a nearby land. She had thought herself lost when she had been injured by a robber, but the Prince had saved her. And she had given him a handsome reward. That takes care of the smirk. But why would he be cupping the blood the lady had spilled? Tay had been coming here since August - and she hadn’t come up with a likely story yet. She got up from the bench and walked up to the glass, getting close enough to let her breath make fog on it. "Who are you?" She said to the painting.

"Jean, and we’re closing." Tay jumped and turned around to see the security guard standing in her beloved section of the museum. "You’re the last one again."

"Sorry, Jean. Had to say goodbye for the Holidays. I probably won’t have time to get back before I leave in a week." Jean smiled at her and looked behind him.

"Stay an extra couple minutes, Tay. I’ll make this my last stop." Tay smiled and waved at Jean as he walked away. She turned back to the painting, and let her eyes settle on the blood. She blinked. No, it couldn’t be. Was there a ripple there? Had there been a ripple before? No, she was certain. But maybe it was just late and her eyes were tired. That had to be it. Of course there had always been a ripple. Oil paintings under glass don’t just add a ripple when they feel like. She looked back to the Prince’s face and shuddered. It always seemed like he was smirking at her. Was he? No, there were hundreds of people who came through this room every day. She shook her head and turned to walk out the door. She grabbed her pocketbook from the bench and made it as far as the corner before she had to look back.

"Goodbye, Prince. I’ll be back soon." She thought herself silly, but shook her head and headed out. Maybe she would make a special effort to come see him before she left in a week.

The man in the suit had gone unnoticed by Tay. He had stayed in the shadows watching her. The suit looked like it was sewn exactly for him, and it looked expensive. The long black hair set of the gray suit perfectly. He had his hands in his pockets as he walked up to the painting. He made a short bow and then turned on his heel. He would follow Tay home, and see why this girl was so interested in this painting.