Disclaimer: We snuck into Studio Ghibli dressed as Howl and Sophie and cornered Mr. Miyazaki in his office. Then we politely explained who we were and why he needed to sign over the rights of Howl's Moving Castle to us. We even brought the paperwork, already filled out! For reasons we can't fathom, he called security on us. So, as of now, we do not officially own Howl's Moving Castle. But it's only a matter of time...

By the Way, we don't own Hans Christian Andersen's works, either. Just so you know.

"At Least You Can Read"

Chapter 1: The Butterfly

Sophie traced a finger down the crinkly page of her book.

"The butterfly wanted to have a sweetheart. Naturally he wanted one of the pretty little flowers," she silently read.

"So Lady Martha," a woman's voice sounded from Sophie's left.

"Yes, Lady Martha," tittered another lady. "We've heard rumors that you... you know..."

"Have eyes for a certain someone…" the first woman continued.

"That you have a sweetheart!" the second woman exclaimed. Sophie's ears were filled with the sound of their laughter.

Lady Martha was Sophie's youngest sister, a petite blonde girl who loved pastries and had a knack for twiddling her thumbs. The two women were Lady Isabella and Lady Jane, nobles that Sophie and her sisters occasionally kept company with.

"He looked at them; each one was sitting so prim and proper on its stalk, the way a maiden should sit when not engaged. But there were so many to choose from that it proved irksome." Sophie read on despite the enthusiastic chatter.

"Oh, did you now?" Martha laughed nervously.

"So? Who is it?" Lady Jane pried.

"You know you can trust us..." Lady Isabella practically cooed.

Martha cleared her throat. "Really, ladies, there isn't anyone. That is, I don't - We're not -"

"Ah, so you admit there is someone!" Lady Jane cried smugly.

"What! Um, I -"

"Oh, I think I know who it is," interrupted a third noble woman. She must have been an acquaintance of Sophie's other sister, Lettie; Sophie did not know her name.

Sophie glanced up from her book to see all of the ladies simultaneously hold their breath as the third woman leaned past Martha to conspiratorially whisper in Lettie's ear.

Lady Lettie, the second eldest, was well-known for her witty tongue. A grin spread across her pretty face as the third woman pulled away. The woman looked at her with excitement.

"Did I guess correctly?"

"What did she say?" Martha pleaded with a mixture of horror and curiosity in her voice. She reached over and grabbed her sister's arm.

Lettie's grin grew mischievous as she patted her carefully arranged dark hair. "How about this?" Lettie bargained. "If you whisper your sweetheart's name into my ear ... I'll tell them so you won't have to!"

"Oh, you're so cruel!" Martha cried in embarrassment.

Sophie glanced down at her book to read the next line. "The butterfly couldn't be bothered, and so he flew to the daisy..."

Lady Jane gasped. "Your sweetheart is Sir Michael?"

"Sir Michael! I knew it!" the third woman cheered.

"What? You told them yourself," Lettie replied to the expression on Martha's face.

Martha flushed red to her hairline. "You - You pressured me into it!" she exclaimed, but she giggled, for thinking of Sir Michael always made her happy.

Sophie finally gave up reading The Butterfly, condemning him to perch on that daisy for a time. She sat there in amusement, her book of fairy tales cradled upon her lap.

Meetings like this happened often among the noble women of Kingsbury. Once an interesting topic emerged in the conversation, the ladies would latch onto it like vultures. Then they would target someone, making that person the main focus of the conversation, whether that person liked it or not... and whether that person was there or not.

Not all gatherings were as pleasant as this one, however. Not for Sophie. And they certainly held little entertainment without her sisters. Sophie's sisters were like a breath of fresh air wherever they went; even the stiffest of courtiers blunted their edges when her sisters were around.

When her sisters were not present, Sophie found herself stuck attending tedious tea parties or seminars with the older nobles. Even at the age of eighteen, it did not help that Sophie insisted upon wearing a strict high collar and severe hair bun, which contrasted with the current fashion of freer hair and looser collars. She knew of the many whispers calling her "spinster." She also knew that dare she whisper her thoughts back, many people in the courts would be mortified. Sophie may be proper, but she was far from docile.

Calmly, Sophie was adjusting the sleeves of her green dress when Lady Isabella suddenly emitted a high-pitched squeak.

"Oh!" Lady Isabella exclaimed, daintily covering her mouth with a hand when the other ladies looked at her. "So sorry. It's just that I suddenly remembered something I've been dying to tell you! Lady Martha," she said, glancing slyly at the blonde. "Is it not true that Sir Michael and the Crown Prince Howell are good friends?"

Everyone's interest slightly heightened at the mention of the mysterious prince.

Martha blinked. "Why yes, I believe so. In fact, I think they -"

"Splendid!" Lady Isabella interrupted, a glint in her eye. "Then perhaps you can ask Sir Michael about this when you get the chance. I heard ..." her voice dropped to a dramatic whisper, "... that Prince Howell, by order of the King… is going to choose a bride soon!"

The ladies all gasped in shock. There was a tense moment when they all exchanged glances. Then the chatter began.

"Oh my goodness, Prince Howell? No way!"

"When?"

"To whom?"

"I have no idea!" Lady Isabella responded. "But I hear very soon! How could you not have heard?"

"I suppose no one would have believed it," Lettie said thoughtfully, tapping her chin.

Martha lifted an eyebrow. "That's because Prince Howell is a lady's man!"

Lady Jane looked at Martha in surprise. The third woman giggled.

"Why Lady Martha ... And I thought you only had eyes for Sir Michael," Lady Jane said.

"No! I do! That is, we've all been subjected to Prince Howell's charm at least once in our lives."

"Subjected? More like blessed," Lady Isabella sighed. "I once accidentally dropped my handkerchief in the Conservatory and suddenly the prince was there. He picked up my handkerchief and, against my will, began to gather me into his arms- !"

"All right, Lady Isabella, time to separate truth from fantasy," Sophie finally could not help but intercede. She smiled at the confused looks. The ladies took a moment to remember that Sophie had been invited and was not technically an eavesdropper.

Martha was the first to recover. "Lady Sophie," she said formally, but with a sincere smile. "I'm curious. You've never told me of your encounters with the prince!"

"Well..." Sophie began. She paused as memories of a meeting years ago began to resurface. "Hmm. Actually, I don't think I've had any encounters with him."

"What?" Lady Isabella said. She arched an eyebrow. "You've been at Court for this long and you still haven't...?"

"I'm not surprised. You've always been very careful," Lettie said with a knowing smile. Sophie smiled back. "Prince Howell would certainly be in for a surprise if he tried anything on you."

"If," the third woman repeated.

Lettie looked at her sharply.

"No, not like that!" the woman objected. "What I mean to say is ... that is ..." The woman threw her hands over her face and pretended to be distraught. "We must be the only women in the court that Prince Howell hasn't noticed!"

Sophie blinked. "Is that not a good thing?"

"No, he definitely remembers me!" Lady Isabella protested. "After all, he took me in his arms- !"

"Oh, he's so handsome!" the third woman sighed.

"I hear he's an odd one, disappearing into his rooms all of the time," Lady Jane commented.

"No commitments," Lady Martha added.

"Great legs!"

All of them, even Sophie, blushed.

There was a knock on the parlor door.

Lady Isabella leaned back gracefully in her chair and pursed her lips.

"Now, I wonder who that could be," she said with a frown. She waved a servant over and instructed her to see who it was.

The servant soon came back and reported that it was a Royal Messenger.

"A Royal Messenger!" Lady Isabella gasped. "Oh goodness, don't just stand there. Let him in at once!"

The six noble women stood with a rustle of skirts and waited for the Royal Messenger with curiosity. He strode in wearing silk white gloves with golden embroidery, a sign that he was bearing important, good news.

Placing a fist over his chest, the Royal Messenger bowed a polite bow meant for all the noble women in the room. They gently curtsied back.

The Royal Messenger reached into the black leather satchel at his hip and pulled out six envelopes of thick, rich paper, the seal of the King's Council upon each of them. The ladies' eyes lit up as he cleared his throat and opened a small scroll.

"By order of the King of Ingary, specially prepared by the Head Sorceress Suliman, these invitations are to be carefully and indiscriminately given to those chosen to attend this Occasion. His Royal Highness gives you his best regards and looks forward to your attendance."

The women exchanged quizzical glances as the Royal Messenger concluded his brief speech.

The Royal Messenger handed each lady an envelope with a slight bow. Sophie, as usual, was last.

No sooner did they hear the door click shut behind him that they began talking among themselves and quickly opening their envelopes. Sophie pulled out a small letter opener and carefully worked it around the seal, her excitement as great and heart-pounding as the others'.

Lady Isabella was the first to open her envelope and pull out her letter. She quickly unfolded the crisp sheet and scanned the top.

"It says, "For..." and that's it," she pouted, reading the introduction in mild disappointment. "It's not even personally addressed to me. Are we supposed to write our ... oh gracious!" Lady Isabella gasped, nearly dropping her letter.

"What on - !" Lettie exclaimed at her own letter.

Lady Jane jumped in surprise. "Oh my!"

The five girls eagerly crowded around each other. Even Sophie moved a few anticipating steps closer as she sliced through one side of the envelope.

"Did you see that? My name appeared after the 'For...!'"

"Mine, too!"

"Just like someone was writing it."

"Magic!"

"Wow, the Head Sorceress Suliman. She's fantastic!"

"Here. Let's see if the name changes!"

Martha and Lady Jane quickly exchanged letters. They stared at the names for a long moment.

"Nothing!"

"I suppose that the spells on these are designed to make the names permanent," Martha said thoughtfully.

A startled shriek of surprise stiffened the spines of everyone in the room. Sophie winced, the sound so startling her that she accidentally nicked her finger with the letter opener.

Lettie turned her head sharply. "Lady Isabella, please control yourself!"

Sophie smiled inwardly at her sister, remembering the days when Lettie had been at the receiving end of a reprimand. After wrapping her bloodied finger in a handkerchief, she swiftly slid the letter out of its envelope to see what had so upset Lady Isabella.

"It's ... It's a wedding invitation!" Lady Isabella announced, her voice tight with an odd mix of outrage and delight. "Prince Howell is getting married!"

"What?" the women cried simultaneously.

"So soon?"

"And the invitation doesn't even say to whom!" Lady Isabella accused. "Dratted, dratted lucky girl!" she mumbled.

"I wager her family bribed the Royals," the third woman declared.

Sophie briskly unfolded her invitation before Lady Isabella's words had a chance to sink in. There was no "For..." at the top. Instead, though just as the others had described, the words "To the Lady Sophie" were magically written at the top in elegant script, letter by letter.

Sophie furrowed her brow as her gaze dropped to the brief sentences below.

"This is outrageous!" Lady Isabella exclaimed.

There was a light series of raps on the door, and the servant opened it to permit two women and a gentleman, who rushed in with an energetic step. The man looked like he would have preferred to stay outside had not one of the ladies firmly wrapped her arm around his. All three held envelopes.

"I see you got them, too!" the lady holding the man's arm exclaimed. "Royal Messengers are everywhere and the whole palace is in a mess!"

"Prince Howell - getting married!" said the other lady.

"No one knows what to think!"

"Some of us think that it's not such a big deal," the man drawled, raising his eyes heavenward. The woman on his arm smacked him with her envelope.

The letter shook in Sophie's hand.

Sophie slowly lowered herself back into the chair, her features a mask of shock. The noisy room around her faded into a droning blur. Her wide brown eyes threatened to glaze over as she read the sentences on her letter over and over again.

"To the Lady Sophie:

Congratulations!

You have been chosen to be Prince Howell's bride.

You are to be present in the Royal Conservatory at precisely twelve o'clock noon

this following day.

Sincerely,

His Royal Highness, King of Ingary"

This is a joint story by beyond the shadows (author of "Howl's Love Spell") and Tek Sonay (author of "To Steal a Heart").

Chapter creation (starting with this chapter) shall alternate as follows: Tek, beyond, Tek, beyond, etc. Check out our profile to learn more! :D