Summary: I'm taking Sydney and Vaughn out of the world of spies and placing them into a fairy tale. In addition, the story will be illustrated with collages from some talented Photoshop users. I hope you enjoy it!

And They Lived…

Once upon a time in land called Thrycia, there was a princess whose beauty surpassed her kingdom's. Her pale skin was as fair as the skies, her voice was as clear and pure as the lake she walked by, and her eyes matched the coat of the sable who called the forest their home.

Princess Sydney (for that was her name) was loved by her people for her kind, generous heart, but she longed for the affection of the only one who denied it. Her father, King Jack, was a distant man, letting no one close—not even his own daughter. Still, he was a wise and fair ruler so the people of Thrycia respected him.

In place of her father, the princess held two other men dear to her heart. One was her fiancé, a knight of the realm named Daniel, and the other was the Lord Chamberlain Arvin Sloane, her father's chief advisor. The Lord Chamberlain stood in stead of the king in the young princess' life, giving her the support and guidance expected of a father.

Sir Daniel was often in the habit of walking through the countryside of the afternoon, getting to know the simple folk he would one day rule at Sydney's side. This is where we find him as our story begins.

Sir Daniel Hecht walked quietly across a meadow, a smile on his face. He'd just had the most fascinating chat with Marshall, the village tinker. All conversations with Marshall were intriguing; the man was a veritable font of random and misplaced information. Today's topic had been a new French wine called "champagne."

"Oh Sir Daniel!" Marshall had exclaimed breathlessly, running after him with a bottle of wine in hand. "I've got something to show you!"

"What is it Marshall?" Daniel inquired. "Some sort of wine?"

"It's called champagne sir. Now if you'll just take the bottle, thank you, I know I've got a goblet here somewhere… now where did I put it?" he mumbled, feeling for it in all of his pockets. "Ah! Here it is!" he said, pulling it out with a triumphant flourish. "Now if you'll just open the bottle and pour some…"

"But I haven't got a corkscrew Marshall," Daniel reminded him.

"Oh oh! That's one of the best things! You don't need one! See, just push on the cork like so," he said, gesturing how it was to be done, "and pop!! The cork flies out all by itself! See?" he cried out gleefully as the cork shot out of the bottle. "Now you can be all masculine in front of Princess Sydney, "See how strong I am?" Not that she doesn't think you're strong, I mean you are strong, I just mean…"

"Marshall," the knight cut in.

"Yes sir?"

"The goblet?"

"Oh! I'm so sorry, here I am blabbering on and … Here you go sir," he finished, holding it out.

Daniel took it from him and poured a quantity of the pale liquid into it, staring at it dubiously once he had done so. "It… bubbles, Marshall," he commented questioningly.

"Of course it does sir! That's the second fermentation process! You see, after they make the wine they bottle it and add yeast and sugar and it ferments again. Fermenting is what they call it when they make wine," he added unnecessarily.

"I am aware of what fermenting is. Very well…" He took a cautious sip and his eyes widened in awe. "What wondrous thing is this? My entire mouth tingles from just one sip!"

"You see sir, it effervesces!" Marshall crowed. "Here, I've got a second bottle for you and the princess," he told him, pulling it out of yet another of his pockets and handing it to him.

"I give you my thanks for this, and the Princess' as well," Daniel had said, accepting the bottle and shaking the other man's hand. "I'm sure she will find this a most delightful creation."

Now as he stepped into the shady woods, he glanced down at the pouch that hung low from his waist, patting the bottle it held. "She will enjoy it indeed," he murmured, thinking about the picnic he had planned with his betrothed for the next afternoon. "Perhaps we can even serve some at the wedding instead of…"

Daniel's keen sense of danger slammed into him before he could finish the thought. Sweeping his eyes around the copse, he saw nothing out of order, nor did he hear anything unusual. In fact, he heard nothing at all, he realized—no birds singing, no frogs in the nearby pond, even the wind was still. Something was definitely very wrong.

Drawing his dagger, Sir Daniel proceeded silently, his senses alert for anything out of place. After a few minutes, he began to hear voices drifting across the woods. Moving closer, he soon found himself on the edge of a glen, listening to a conversation between two men.

"The Lady Irina wants to know if you're ready sir," the first questioned.

"Inform My Lady that we will be ready in a fortnight's time," the second replied. Daniel's brow knit together in confusion. He recognized the voice as that of Lord Sloane, but who was Lady Irina.

"She also asked me to tell you that Lord Sark has achieved his goal," the first man added.

Daniel started in shock. Lord Sark was the name of the man who had overthrown the Æmysian throne and set himself up as ruler of that peaceful land. If the Lord Chamberlain was working with him, he could have only one goal in mind.

"Excellent, excellent," Lord Sloane gloated. "Soon, Thrycia will be mine and then the entire valley will belong to Lady Irina."

Set on warning the king of the traitor in his midst, Daniel moved to withdraw. As he did so, light reflected off the neck of the champagne bottle that protruded from his pouch and flashed in Lord Sloane's eyes. Gesturing for the messenger to hand him his crossbow, he coldly shot the knight in the back.

Approaching the body, he rolled him over and said, "You've just made my plans remarkably simple good sir knight, and I thank you for that." Then without so much as a backward glance he walked away, not giving the knight a second thought.

At the same time, unaware that a woodsman was about to discover the body of her dead fiancé, the Princess Sydney was carrying on with her duties in the castle. For our princess was not one to shirk hard work, instead she took great pride in the labor she did to keep the castle running. This day she was inspecting the falconry with Dixon, her bodyguard and groom, when the woodsman arrived at the castle gates.

"Dixon," Princess Sydney said as they stepped out of the building. "What causes this commotion?" she asked, gesturing to the people all running to the courtyard.

"I know not my lady, would you like to me find out?" he asked.

"We shall investigate together," she decided. "Come Dixon, there is a mystery about."

"It seems as if the entire kingdom has crowded within the gates," Sydney commented when they reached the courtyard. "Why, I cannot even see what it is that has so captured everyone's attention.

"You there!" she said to a blacksmith who was passing by. "What is going on?"

"A woodsman found a knight dead in the woods, Highness," the man replied. "He recognized him as one of the king's men and brought him in a moment ago."

"Do you know the identity of the misfortuned knight?" she asked as she pushed herself through the crowd, straining for a glimpse of the action.

"I did not hear…" he began, then let his words trail off when he saw the look of shock on the princess' face when she finally caught sight of the knight.

"Daniel!" she gasped, struggling to reach him but blocked by the crowd. "Dixon, it's Daniel! I have to get to him," she implored.

The older man placed a restraining hand on the princess' shoulder. "Calm yourself Princess, you cannot be certain it is him," he said soothingly.

Indicating the royal blue wool cloak wrapped around the body, she cried out, "I gave him that cloak for Christmas! Now please, help me!"

Releasing her, Dixon cupped his hands to his mouth and hollered, "Make way for the princess! Her Royal Highness Princess Sydney wishes to identify the knight."

The crowd parted and Sydney rushed to where her fiancé lay sprawled on the cold stone, a crimson stain on his back marking where the arrow had pierced his heart. Kneeling beside him, she pulled his head into her lap and wept as her people watched in silence.

After only a few short moments, she pulled the mantle of her title around her and wiped away her tears. Rising to her feet, she turned to the man standing beside her. "Are you the woodsman who found Sir Daniel?" she inquired stridently.

"I am Your Highness," he replied, nervously playing with the feather on the cap he held in his hands.

"Can you tell me how he died?"

"I'm guessing it was the arrow in his back Princess," he told her. "I removed it before bringing him in, on account of the fact that it was poking me when I carried him."

"May I have it?" she requested, holding her hand out.

"Of course my lady," he replied, reaching into his pouch. "I thought someone might want it so I kept it right here."

"Thank you," she said, taking it from him. Stooping down, she stroked Daniel's head one last time. "I will find the one who did this to you Daniel; I swear it on our love."

Shock and anger filled the princess at the death of her beloved. Who would dare to do such a thing? The need for revenge consumed her, and she could think of only one place to turn for help—the Lord Chamberlain, the man she called Uncle Arvin.

"Dixon, would you wait for me at the foot of the stairs?" Sydney asked as they reached the tower that housed Lord Sloane's quarters.

"Of course Princess. Could I take that for you, or did you need it yet?" he asked gently, pointing to the arrow that was still tightly clutched in her left hand.

"Pardon?" she said blankly, looking down to see what he was pointing at. "Oh! I'd forgotten I had this. Please, take it Dixon. I'm sure I won't need it to speak with Uncle Arvin," she answered, handing it to him.

"I'll be waiting my lady," he told her, bowing slightly.

"Thank you Dixon, you are a true friend," she said, taking her skirts in hand and beginning the climb to the turret.

"Uncle Arvin, are you here?" she called out as she climbed the last few stairs.

Sloane smiled evilly when he heard her voice. He had been expecting her questions, and he had answers ready for every one. "Sydney my dear," he said in honeyed tones, hustling out to meet her. "I just heard about Daniel, I'm so sorry. He was a good man."

"He was Uncle, but there will be time to mourn him later. Right now I want to find who did this to him, and I need your help," Sydney stated purposefully.

"I see," Sloane said, turning to hide his smirk. She was playing right into his hand. "Why do you think I'll be in a position to help?"

"You know everything that happens in my father's kingdom, surely you have heard something about who killed Daniel," she insisted.

"Sydney, I don't want to discourage you but what happens if you learn the truth and then wish you hadn't?" Sloane asked, slyly manipulating the princess.

"How could I not want to avenge my fiancé's death?" she questioned, completely missing the smug expression that crossed his face. When he didn't answer, she narrowed her eyes and said, "You do know something, don't you?"

"Princess, I'm not sure…" he murmured, spreading his hands out beseechingly.

"No! Tell me what you know! Tell me who killed him so I can shoot him with the same arrow he killed my Daniel with!" she ordered, her eyes flashing with anger.

"Very well, if you must know," he said, bowing his head in feigned reluctance. "But I warn you, the news will not make you happy." When she simply stared at him, waiting for him to continue, he drew a heavy sigh and said, "It was your father."

Sydney's face went pale in shock. "My father! But why would he… No, you must be mistaken! He may be a distant man, but he would never do something like this," she protested.

"I'm afraid he would my dear," Sloane said, making a great show of sadly shaking his head.

"But why? He would have no reason to kill Daniel. He even approved of our marriage," she pointed out desperately.

"Daniel found out your father's secret. He was going to tell you, so the king had him killed," he said, his eyes silently entreating her to believe him. "Please trust me, I would not lie to you about something like this."

Princess Sydney tried to hold onto her trust in her father, but it was diminishing rapidly. "What secret?" she asked in trepidation, afraid of the answer she would receive.

Sloane mentally cheered in triumph. He had her! "Why, the fact that he's been behind all the recent unrest in the neighboring kingdoms," he replied smoothly, watching as the princess' eyes hardened in anger.

"I see. Thank you for your honesty, I know it wasn't easy for you," she said as she moved toward the door.

Lord Sloane's troubled voice stopped her before she could leave. "What are you going to do?" he asked, false concern oozing from every word.

"Don't worry My Lord Chamberlain, he won't hurt me," she assured him coldly. "He won't have a chance," she added as she bolted down the stairs.

"Princess!" Dixon exclaimed when he saw the anger and betrayal written across her face. "Was Lord Sloane able to help?" he asked, trailing after her as she raced down the hallway.

"Indeed he was Dixon," she answered, whipping around a corner into the hall leading to the king's private chambers. "Indeed he was."

"Are you planning to ask for the king's help in bringing the knave to justice?"

"Not quite," she laughed mirthlessly as she halted in front of her father's doors, her skirts swirling about her. "Martin, will you please inform the king that I wish to speak with him?" Sydney asked the guard stationed in the hallway.

"Of course Princess," the burly man said deferentially as he moved to open the door. "The princess would have a moment of your time, Your Highness," he announced.

"Send her in Martin, I've been expecting her," Jack ordered, rising from where he sat at his desk.

"Thank you Martin," Sydney said as she walked in, dismissing him with a wave of her hand.

She waited until the door shut to face her father. "How could you?" she seethed. "You are my father, how could you kill my fiancé? Did you really need more power? Isn't it enough that you've already overtaken three of our neighbors, our allies, did you have to kill the man I loved to keep it a secret?"

"You've been talking to Sloane," he commented evenly, throwing her off balance.

She stared at him in surprise before asking, "How did you know that?"

"Because only Sloane would tell you I killed Daniel Hecht," he replied.

"You're right, because only Uncle Arvin knows," she sneered, regaining her momentum. "Are you going to kill him now too? When will it stop?"

"Sydney, I didn't kill your fiancé. Sloane did," he informed her.

The distraught princess gaped at her father in disbelief. "Do you honestly expect me to believe that?" she asked incredulously. "If you wanted to blame someone else, you should have at least chosen someone other than the person who accused you."

"No, I don't expect you to believe it." He paused for a moment to allow the righteous anger to settle on his daughter's features before delivering the coup de grace. "Not without proof."

"Proof?" she whispered before rallying against him. "You're lying, you can't have proof. Uncle Arvin wouldn't do that to me," she protested with a vehement shake of her head, sending her head dress sliding to the floor.

The king raised an eyebrow and regarded her sardonically. "Arvin wouldn't but I would?" Not expecting an answer, he opened a drawer in his desk and pulled out a tightly rolled parchment. "This is the proof Sydney. One of my men found a messenger skulking about the castle two fortnights ago. He had this on him."

Sydney took the proffered parchment and read it silently. When she finished, her father said, "As you can see, it's a missive to a Lady Irina detailing plans to take over Thrycia. I'm sure you recognize Lord Sloane's handwriting."

"Yes," she murmured dazedly. She stared blankly at the words for another moment before the impact of their betrayal hit her. "That miserable, lying traitor! He killed Daniel and then said you had done it, just so he could have your throne! He pretended to be someone good, someone I can trust… he'll pay for this!"

Angrily flinging the door open, the princess' gaze fell on the two men who stood outside. "Martin, Dixon, come with me. We have some housecleaning that needs to be done," she said grimly, striding down the hallway toward the stairwell.

"What is it Your Highness?" Dixon asked, completely confused by the rapid turn of emotions he saw on his mistress' face.

"Uncle Arvin," she said, drawing his name out mockingly, "is responsible for Daniel's death. It's time I had a chat with My Lord Chamberlain," she said as she opened the door. "I want you to arrest…" her words died out when the entered Sloane's quarters only to find them bare. Spying a note on the desk, she picked it up and read it. "My dear princess After talking to you, I realized your father would be able to deflect my accusations, so I'm afraid I've had to leave. I'm sure you understand. I must apologize for this whole situation; it all could have been avoided if your Daniel had only chosen to walk somewhere else this afternoon. I know you are unhappy now that you've learned the truth, just as I said you would be. Remember Princess, sometimes the truth hurts."

The room was silent for a minute as everyone absorbed the information they'd just received. "What should we do Princess?" Martin asked once he could think straight again.

The princess slowly crumpled the note into a ball. Tossing it down on the floor, she answered him, her voice thick with bitterness. "I want you to send out your best men Martin, and I want you to find him. Then you will bring him to me, and I will show him just how much the truth can hurt."