Phillip watched attentively as his fingers danced across the keys, the notes lingering in the air like perfume, stringing along in a beautiful banner, decorating the huge stained glass window in front of him. Phillip felt as if this was the only time he was ever truly happy, away from the reasonability of the throne, his whiny wife, and the expectation of children coming soon. When he was alone in the abandoned church, sunlight casting a light glow onto the large piano, he could be a boy again, instead of a future king.

He smelled the air, his eyes fluttering closed as the tempo of the soft song sped up slightly, pressing down harder on the keys to indicate deeper feeling. As he was getting to the crescendo of the song, Phillip heard the loud squeak of the old, rusty door, and he nearly dropped the piano cover on his fingers. He tensed up and stood, glancing at the door, expecting to see his parents or, worse yet, his wife.

Instead, a girl stood there.

She couldn't have been much older than Phillip, perhaps a few years younger than him. But Lord, was she beautiful. Phillip decided he had never seen a woman so godly. Unlike Charity, Phillip's wife-in-waiting, she was naturally beautiful, her face bare of makeup, her hair down instead of in a fancy, gelled-down updo. She was wearing a simple plain dress, and the vulnerability of her beauty was shocking and satisfying to Phillip.

He almost considered taking her back to the palace and having her be a concubine for him, but he decided against it. The girl was much too pretty to be a mistress. She deserved a husband who would cater to her every need and bow at her feet. Oh, how desperately Phillip wanted to be that husband.

He cleared his throat and straightened his suit jacket as the two locked eyes.