Samantha had hardly expected that her story of being a wayward Princess would be something that the fool beside her would actually believe. After all, it wasn't as though princesses fell from trees around here. She was just your average American girl. Though she doubted she could be considered that given that there was now a death certificate attached to her name â€" a sad fact she'd discovered one night at the library when she'd tried to find out what her parents had thought happened to her. But this pompous faerie boy beside her wasn't going to know she was merely average if she could get away with it, lest he dare try to insinuate that she was a prostitute yet again. There was something certainly odd about the boy beside her, and Samantha found herself full of questions for him as it appeared he had just the same for her. Perhaps luckily for her, she's spared from having to come up with answers to whatever he might ask by the wailing of the sirens. Jesus, what was she getting herself into now.

Determined that the faerie would die without her help â€" and feeling the strangest sense of protectiveness over her â€" Samantha merely commands the man to shut up, explaining that the police were not people he could trust. After all, she was certain they weren't after her. She wasn't entirely shocked that he failed to see the danger in the police â€" after all, most people trusted them â€" but it was rather his shock at the mention of the Hunters that stunned her. "Hunters, you know. Dark Hunters. Their sole job in this world is to kill supernaturals. That includes faeries. We have to go." With that, she gives a harsh tug on his hand, she hauls him after her. In her rush to get them safe, she hardly paid attention to the way the boy seems baffled by her insistence that running is the best choice of action here. Though, she should hardly be surprised. Until a few months ago, she wouldn't have guessed anything was trying to kill her. She could still remember the burn of the iron on her skin.

It is his shock of the traffic that finally slows Samantha to a walk, her own chest heaving. Running was not exactly something she did often, and the effort left her breathless as she leaned forward in an attempt to force air into her lungs. She was glad that the man beside her seemed just as breathless â€" gasping for breath would have been rather embarrassing in front of him. Luckily, Sam manages to pull herself to her feet just as he does, her fingers reaching to play with the hem of the crop top she wore. "It's not far," She assured him â€" and it wasn't, merely the next block â€" though she doubted that putting it in those terms would be something he would understand. "I... horses aren't common in my kingdom, we use those," She gestured to the cars on the street. "They're called cars. I'd try to explain it to you, but I really don't know that I could."

It was his mention that he was bleeding that caused Samantha to look down at her own feet, which were certainly dirty and would be sore, but weren't quite as bloody as the other faerie's. Samantha glanced at the pair of heels in her hand, giving him a half-hearted shrug. "If I thought you could wear heels, I'd let you wear these. But they're new and expensive, and you're bleeding." Her lip quirked up into a teasing smile, and she reached over to put a hand on his arm. "It's not far, but I don't have a physician. You'll just have to settle for my skills with a first aid kit."

Samantha was just about to drag the boy forward once again when he begins his introduction, Samantha's eyes widening ever so slightly at the list of titles he gave himself. There were so many countries â€" she assumed they were countries â€" that she'd never even heard of, let alone knew if they did in fact have some kind of monarch. This certainly made her own twisted story a bit harder. His own prompting for her title leads the girl to hesitate ever so slightly, biting her lower lip as she thought.

"I am..." She started, her mind raking his own title to try and get it right. "Her Royal Highness... Samantha Kate Cassidy... Princess of Nar...nia? And the associated kingdoms, of course," She dipped into a quick, playful curtsy once again. "It is a small kingdom, but..." Thankfully, she's stopped from needing to elaborate on the complexities of her own apparent title by the distant sound of sirens.

"Mother fuck," Samantha muttered, reaching to grab Dorian's arm, tugging him after her. "We don't have to run, but we do have to... hasten." She used his own word, giving a small chuckle as she led him down the street. The sirens were just growing unbearably loud when Sam approached her apartment building, tugging the man in behind her. She wasted no time in climbing the stairs to the third floor, reaching the door that was her own. "Here's home." She said to her companion before she opened the door and pushed the man inside.

It wasn't much â€" to this so-called King, it probably looked like a dungeon â€" but it was hers. A one room apartment, the exposed brick of the back wall being the only feature piece besides the hardwood floors and white walls. A single futon was pushed against one wall, pulled out to become a bed with a ratty patchwork quilt and a few pillows on top. A few cardboard boxes held Samantha's clothes near the futon. The only other furniture in the room was a kitchen table with two mismatched chairs.

Samantha pulled the faerie boy over to the kitchen, pushing him down in one of the chairs. "Sit," She commanded before she went over to the stove, putting a kettle full of water on the stove for tea before she grabbed her first aid kit, going to kneel beside him. She wasted no time in examining his damaged feet, grabbing some peroxide to clean the wound. "This is going to sting," She warned before she went to work on making sure the wound was at least somewhat clean.

Samantha Cassidy