The Runaway Bride

Prologue

A/N: They fantasy aspect of this story will come soon, but not at the moment! (:

The halls of the manor were deadly quiet. I walked the halls, my doll clutched at my chest.

"Mother! Father!"  I listened to my voice bounce off the halls. With every noise I abruptly turned my head, the obscure hallways giving me chills. I began running, twisting and turning through the never-ending halls. This place was like a maze. My legs started burning so I stopped, clutching my doll harder against my chest when I saw a boy at the end of the narrow passage. 

He seemed to be my age, he had ruffled blonde hair and large hazel eyes. He approached me with careful steps. "D-don't come any closer!" I shrieked. He arched a brow.

"I'm older than you, I don't have to listen to you." He reached me, extending his lean arm in the air, trying to emphasize his height.

"No," I folded my arms, the doll's head poking up. "I'm six."

He laughed triumphantly. "Seven." He stated, puffing out his chest. I shrugged. He pushed out his hand, turning his head to looking in an opposite direction.

"I'm Mason. Wanna be my best friend?" He said shyly. I'd never made a boy friend before. I smiled with glee, shaking his hand eagerly. "Okay!"

He poked my shoulder. "You're it!" I had no idea what we were doing, and I knew running in the manor was forbidden, but I joined in.

11 YEARS LATER -

I watched Mason rub the teacups clean, my elbow leaned lazily against the glass table. If mother saw me now, she'd be breathing fire. Mason seemed tense today, he didn't have his usual smile on. 

"Mason." He seemed immersed in cleaning.

"Mason!" He snapped his head up, his eyes looked dull and sad. I tensed up, too. Something wasn't right.

"Is something wrong?" I asked. He fiddled with the collar of his butler uniform.

"Iris," He let out a delayed sigh. "You're getting married."