DPOV

We're trapped.

For the first time in my life, my training is useless. My hands are secured with an impossibly complicated knot and the rope cuts into my wrists as I carefully manoeuvre my cell phone out of my pocket.

Sitting across from me, Christian's eyes are wide with terror. He knows what I'm going to do, but he's restrained in a similar fashion to me, and therefore can't do much to prevent it. He shoots me a pleading glance, but this situation is now beyond me. The time for pride has long since passed.

Finally, he nods his head. With his permission, behind my back I type out some approximation of "Help. Code Pink." I can't see the screen, so I can only hope the message is readable.

After fumbling around for a few seconds, the sound indicates that my message has been delivered.

Having done all I can, I slump back in my tiny seat.

Rose. Please hurry.

Six hours earlier, I had just been heading back to the apartment for lunch. My grounds patrol was tedious and uneventful and I was looking forward to last night's leftover pasta.

It happened to be one of those rare occasions where Rose and I were actually able to have lunch together. Realising what this would mean for me, I picked up my pace. If I didn't get back before her, she'd finish all the pasta and I'd have to make myself something else. I love her, but she's like a living vacuum.

I was walking along a corridor inside the palace when I felt a tug on my duster. Knowing how much I love it added to the convenient fact that she's the queen, Lissa pulled some strings to get me special permission to wear it as part of my uniform. Dating her best friend probably helped too.

I looked down to meet a serious pair of turquoise eyes.

"Princess," I said in surprise, "How may I help you?"

Princess Anarosa Dragomir-Ozera already had something of her mother's regal air at the tender age of six. While both of her parents had a place in the colour of her eyes, she'd inherited her mother's slight build as well as her porcelain skin. Her hair was much darker than Lissa's though; in time it would eventually turn black like her father's. The princess' fiery temper left little doubt as to which element she'd specialize in or which parent she takes after.

"I'm bored," she said, her tone already reflecting that of someone who always gets their way. Unlike many people five times her age, she didn't appear daunted by my height in the slightest.

"Maybe you should go back to your playroom," I suggested. She didn't seem to like the idea- clearly she didn't want to play with any of the toys she owned, that were so numerous that it would be physically impossible to cram another one in there.

"You're Aunty Rose's husband," she said. It wasn't a question.

I suppressed a sigh. While there was no doubt that I'd drag Rose to an altar someday, for the present she remained stubborn and… well, Rose. However, I wasn't about to explain my relationship to a six-year-old.

"Something like that," I conceded.

"You speak funny," she informed me.

I tried to hide my smile. "Yes, I suppose I do," I agreed.

I found her innocent bluntness refreshing. She appeared to be a serious child, more like a miniature adult. I supposed the pressure of being a Dragomir princess could do that. But maybe underneath it all there was still a little childlike playfulness.

"It's because I grew up somewhere else," I explained.

She paused to think about that.

"Come, Uncle Tree," she said as she turned and started walking away, expecting me to follow.

I hesitated. "I really should be going…"

"Now," she ordered, with a pout that rivaled her aunt's. She managed to insert a surprising amount of authority into that one word.

Technically, the princess was a royal and I, as a guardian, couldn't disobey a direct order. I shrugged.

Rose had probably finished the pasta by that point and, truth be told, I felt a little sorry for Ana. Her parents were busy for most of the day and she had no siblings or even friends to play with. I followed her to her playroom.

It was tastefully decorated, considering that everything was pink. While my sisters would have killed for a room like this when they were growing up, I just had the uncomfortable sensation that I was walking into a marshmallow. It was certainly fluffy enough.

The princess walked over to a small table in the corner of the room. Pink plastic chairs surrounded it. Some were occupied by various stuffed animals and dolls, but she took an empty seat and gestured to another one across from her.

"Sit," she said.

I frowned. Royal status aside, she really should learn to be more polite. I decided that if she wanted me to amuse her, she could at least say please.

I crossed my arms. "No," I replied, simply.

Her mouth popped open in a highly amusing display of surprise, making it difficult for me to keep a straight face. Her surprise was replaced by confusion, her tiny brow furrowing.

"Why not?" she asked.

"Maybe I would, if you asked nicely," I said, raising an eyebrow.

Though she obviously knew what I wanted her to say, the concept seemed new to her.

"Please?" she said tentatively.

I nodded and walked over to my designated pink chair. With great difficulty and no small amount of strategic limb placement, I managed to wedge myself into the tiny seat with my knees tucked right under my chin. I silently prayed that I would be able to get out again.

My loss of dignity proved not to be a waste, as it elicited a laugh from the princess. I smiled in return.

"What now?" I asked.

She paused to think about it.

"A tea party," she said, and promptly disappeared underneath the table.

She resurfaced moments later with a pink picnic basket, which proved to contain a delicate china tea set that she began to lay out on the table.

Having grown up with three sisters, I was no stranger to tea parties. While we never used antique china, I doubted the fundamentals would be all that different.

Apart from the fact that the little princess used real food instead of her imagination (thankfully solving my lunch problem) the concept was the same.

"Will you pour Hector a cup of tea?" asked the princess.

"Of course," I said, glancing uncertainly around at our numerous guests.

The pale brown horse in a tutu that was seated next to me struck me as the most likely candidate, so I filled his cup. Princess Anarosa didn't correct me, so I must've gotten his name right.

I looked at the horse and kept my expression serious as I asked him how many sugars he took.

"He doesn't take sugar, he's diabetic," chided the princess.

I addressed the horse once more. "My apologies," I said, placing the cup in front of him.

A short while later, a glance at my watch told me it was time for me to start my next shift.

"Princess," I said, "it's time for me to leave now."

Her face fell. "But we're not done playing," she moaned.

I tried to reassure her. "I can come back some other time, then we can finish our tea party."

She didn't reply, but looked sulkily down at her plate so I scooted my chair out from the table.

"Goodbye then, Princess Anarosa, Hector," I said, nodding politely to each in turn before standing up.

Or rather, I would've stood up if I could get out of my tiny chair.

When all efforts to free my hips from the pink plastic failed, I attempted to use my legs to flip onto my feet, but they were folded too tightly and the seat was too low. While my attempts grew more and more desperate, the princess did nothing but watch.

Finally, after I had exhausted all possibilities, I had to face the facts. I was stuck in a tiny pink children's chair. This was not good.

"You can't get out?" the Princess asked me with wide eyes.

I grimaced. "Um. No."

A strange expression crossed her face, but it was gone before I could place it.

"I'll go fetch Papa," she informed me.

"No, that really won't be neces…" but she'd already gone.

Govno, I cursed internally.

Further struggling seemed to make matters worse and the plastic was biting into my skin quite painfully by the time the Princess returned, followed by a confused looking Christian.

"Who needs help?" he asked his daughter as he walked through the doors.

She pointed a finger in my direction and said in an exasperated tone, "Uncle Tree, Papa."

Christian stared at me for a moment, like he couldn't quite understand what was happening. Then a smile spread across his face.

"Oh," he said, grinning like a chipmunk, "I was wondering why you didn't show up for your shift. What seems to be the problem, Belikov?"

That ass knew perfectly well what the problem was and I gave him a few choice words under my breath.

"Sorry, I didn't quite catch that," Christian said, sounding like he was barely holding back his laughter.

I scowled at him. "I'm stuck."

His internal dam burst. He let out a gale of laughter so forceful that I hoped he'd bust a rib. Tears were rolling down his face and he didn't show any signs of stopping until Princess Anarosa drew back her arm and punched him in the thigh.

"Don't laugh at Uncle Tree," she said with a face like a stormcloud.

It definitely stopped him laughing.

He rubbed his thigh furiously and then gingerly crouched down.

"Anarosa," he said sternly, "It's not nice to hit people."

She crossed her arms.

"Okay, now let's see about getting you out of there," he said, turning to address me. "I assume fire magic is off the table?"

"There's enough Polyester in here to start a bonfire," I replied icily. "Your choice."

No way was I endangering my duster.

"Fine," he sighed.

He pulled up one of the other chairs and started studying it.

"We basically just need to get one of the arms off," he said, fingering the plastic. "Dammit, Belikov, why did you get into one of these things in the first place? It's clearly too small."

I raised an eyebrow. "Thanks a bunch," I dryly remarked.

"Help him, Papa," whined the princess.

Her tone gave him a pained expression. "I'm trying, Ana," he said, apparently eager to keep her happy.

A few moments later, I could see why.

The Princess' eyes filled with tears and she started to emit a high pitched squeal that must've been the single most irritating sound on the planet.

Christian looked worried. "Sshh, Ana."

She started to speak, taking huge gulps of air between words.

"It's all…my fault," she wailed, " I thought… he would fit… because you would… and you're so smart… and…" She trailed off into incoherent sobs.

I'd never been more thankful that two dhamphirs couldn't have children.

His expression was now frantic, it was clear he'd do anything to get her to stop.

"Ssh, Ana, ssh," he soothed in a desperate tone. "See, look, Ana! Look, I do fit!"

Before I could stop him, he'd planted himself firmly on one of the chairs. The princess stopped crying immediately.

I mirrored Christian's look of relief until she started giggling instead.

"Yay!" she crowed, clapping her tiny hands in delight. "You're my prisoners!"

I was so dumbstruck at being outsmarted by a six year old that I didn't feel her tying up my hands until it was too late.

"Your daughter is a psychopath," I informed Christian calmly.

"Uh…yeah. She does appear to be," he agreed as the final knot was tied on his own restraints. Did I detect a note of pride in his voice?

We're trapped.

While the Princess is off rummaging through a cupboard, I work my phone out of my pocket and type out a message to Rose.

They'll never let us live this down, Christian says with his eyes from across the table.

I give him a look back and he sags in defeat. The time for pride has passed.

I manage to send the message and silently pray that Rose reads it soon.

I've just gotten my phone back into my pocket when the princess returns with something in her hands.

As she moves closer to me, I can see that it's a tub full of sparkly pink clips and hair-ties.

"You have pretty hair, Uncle Tree," she informs me.

As I feel the first tug on my scalp, I know that resistance is futile. I'm not a vain man, but I can almost hear the knots forming.

It's going to take hours to comb this out, I think, wincing. Rose, please hurry!

Author's Note

Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed it! If you did (or didn't and have some criticism) and wish to tell me so, please review! Your support and suggestions mean so much to me. Whether you favourite or not is up to you, but I strongly recommend it. Then again, I may be slightly biased.

I was slightly worried about this one, I hope it turned out okay. If all goes according to plan, there will be a second chapter from Rose's POV.

Shout out to my fabulous Beta reader NB313! Go check out her stuff, I promise you won't be disappointed!

I don't own Vampire Academy or the characters therein.