Hello! It's been so long since I've worked on this story, but I'm determined to finish it now. I'll try to update weekly, so look out for another chapter next Friday! Also if you've read this story before, I highly recommend rereading these first few chapters, as I've edited them a lot. The basic plot is the same, but there are some subtle variations. Enjoy!

"Do we really need to throw this party?" William Holmes, the first, asked his wife. They were in the midst of planning out where to seat the guests for that evening. He knew it was a bit late to cancel the whole event, but he was sure that his wife would be able to make it happen if necessary.

Violet Holmes smiled fondly over at her husband. "I know you don't like it, but you know how important this is for us." She looked around the dining hall where all the tables had been decorated impressively for the evening. "Everyone of importance will be here." A shade of guilt crept into her features. "Granted, our son's birthday celebration doesn't seem like the most tasteful time to prove to these people that we consider them allies, but it's convenient timing." She rubbed her husband's arm. "I know you don't like it, but, well, that's politics, and you are the king, after all."

William gave a little laugh at that. "I may be the king, but I think we all know who's really running this kingdom."

Violet smiled modestly but made no move to contradict her husband. It was true that his status as king did not necessarily mean that he controlled any aspect of the kingdom. In actuality, it was the Queen who organised everything. The Kingdom of Parthenia was, in essence, her child that she had nurtured and cared for since taking power with her husband more than a decade prior. And Parthenia had always been good to her in return. Of course, that was where the kingdom differed from her actual children.

"Mummy!"

Ah, speaking of.

The Queen held out her arms to catch the twelve-year-old as he sped into the room. "Mycroft," she said, "what has Mummy told you about running through the palace?"

Mycroft huffed and ducked his head. "Not to do it," he muttered. He looked back up at his mother. "But I had to come find you to tell you that William's set fire to kitchens again."

The King barely refrained from laughing at that. Little William, the second, had always been a bit of trouble, young as he was, but William I never failed to get amusement out of his namesake.

The Queen, on the other hand, was not amused. "William Sherlock Scott Holmes!" she shouted, storming off in the direction of the kitchens. "I'll not have you set fire to the palace hours before your party is set to begin."

The King laughed as his wife's voice, followed by whinging from his youngest son, carried back to the dining hall.

And thus was life of Parthenia's royal family.

By sundown, the party was in full swing. Everyone of importance was there. Representatives from neighbouring kingdoms and nobility from their own; there were even some other children there that William II had expressed a fondness for.

Violet watched with sad eyes as her youngest son tried to talk to the children. His animated features indicated that he was discussing something he'd read in one of his storybooks about pirates, as that had been his most recent obsession. The other children grew bored and moved away, and the little prince was left staring at the space where they'd been moments before. He approached the group of children once more, but they were huddled in a tight circle and refused to acknowledge him.

The King appeared at her side. "A drink for my queen," he said, offering out a glass of champagne.

Violet smiled faintly and accepted the drink with a brief word of thanks.

"What's gotten you so upset?" the King asked, concern etched in his features.

The Queen sighed and gestured over toward the children they'd invited, all of whom were occupying themselves in a corner of the room. Little William stood several steps away from them now, staring at them with wide eyes. "He's lonely," she said. "We're the rulers of the most powerful kingdom in this part of the world."

"Save for Aranea," the King pointed out.

The Queen waved a dismissive hand through the air. "We're the rulers of the most powerful kingdom in this area, save for Aranea. How is it possible that we've let our son become so terribly lonely?"

"He's fine," William, Sr., argued in an attempt to console his wife. When it became clear that Violet didn't believe him, he sighed and amended, "Well, perhaps he's not completely fine. But after tonight, we can start trying to socialise him more with other children his age." He rubbed the Queen's arm soothingly. "It will all be all right. Tonight, worry about the kingdom. Tomorrow you can worry about our son."

Violet took a moment to look over at her husband. "When did you become the reasonable one?" she asked, a small, genuine smile on her lips.

The King smiled in return. "Go on," he said, ushering her forward into the centre of the room. "You've got diplomats to win over."

The Queen nodded, recalling that she did in fact have a job she was meant to be doing that evening, and made her way over to some of the guests. It grew boring after the first few guests. She gave them all the same speech, treated them all with the same mixture of deference and gentle persuasion.

"We've recently gotten word that Aranea has turned to dark magic to keep its ruling family in power," she would say with a grimace and a shake of her head. "James Moriarty—he's the king there, you know—well, he's always resented us. He sees us a competition, I think. Oh, so you have heard of him? Yes, there are some nasty rumours going around about how he's stayed in power for all these years. Eternal youth? Really? I hadn't heard such a thing, but it would certainly make sense. I haven't seen him age a day since his coronation. Well, you know, there are other rumours about him—rumours that he might attempt to start a war with Parthenia. Oh, thank you. Your support in that event would mean so much."

The Queen had grown tired of smiling politely hours ago, but she knew that she had to keep up appearances. If Aranea truly did wage war against their kingdom, they would need all the allies they could get.

But, at the same time, she supposed that she should be spending some time with her youngest son, as it was his birthday celebration, after all. Five years old, and he was already almost as clever as his brother. She looked around the room, searching for young William. She caught sight of him in one corner, talking to a man crouching down beside him. As if sensing her gaze, the man turned his head in her direction, flashing her a venomous smile. The Queen's blood seemed to freeze in her veins as utter panic gripped her. The man she had been warning her guests about, the man she had been terrified of going to war with, was now speaking to her five-year-old son. Violet moved over toward them as quickly as she could without running.

"William, honey, come to Mummy now," she said once she was in earshot. Her son was at her side immediately.

"Oh, come now," the King of Aranea said, standing from his crouched position. "I was only talking to the boy. He's very clever for his age." Jim Moriarty looked young, barely thirty, and the Queen strongly suspected that the rumours about his eternal youth had been correct.

Violet stared him down, making a few covert gestures with one hand to signal to her husband that there was trouble. "I don't remember sending you an invitation."

"I was hoping it had simply gotten lost in transit," Moriarty said, a manic glint in his eyes. "But I can see now that it was deliberate."

The Queen was unapologetic. "We can't abide by practitioners of dark magic in this kingdom."

Moriarty cocked his head to the side, his smile sliding into something more sinister. "I don't like being turned away. Shame on you, Your Majesty. You should really know better than that."

William, Sr., approached with four guards. He stood by his wife, the guards flanking them. He dropped one hand down onto his son's shoulder, keeping him there. Around them, the partygoers were starting to notice that something was amiss, and their conversations had grown more hushed.

"Are you threatening my wife?" the King asked, a rare note of danger entering into his voice.

Moriarty laughed gleefully and clapped his hands together. "Not your wife, no." His reptilian eyes flicked down toward the young prince.

"If you lay a hand on my son, we will not hesitate to wage war with Aranea," Violet warned.

"He's not going to hurt me right now, Mummy," little William said wisely, tugging at his mother's dress. "There are too many people around. Everyone knows not to hurt someone with this many witnesses."

The Queen shut her eyes for a moment, hand tightening on William's shoulder. "That's right, sweetheart. How very clever you are." Her voice was tinged with sadness, with worry.

"Yes, he is a clever one, isn't he?" Moriarty cooed, trying to move closer. Both the King and the Queen stepped up, blocking their son from his view. Moriarty did not like this. "I'll let you have him for now," Moriarty said, his tone turning deadly. "But by the time he comes of age, I'll have made him mine. I bet his screams will be delicious before I kill him."

The eyes of all the guests were on them now. A few scattered gasps followed Moriarty's threat, but for the most part, everyone seemed too terrified to speak, as if worried that they would be targeted next.

The young prince was close to tears and clung onto his mother's dress, barely daring to peek around it to watch the man who intended to kill him. "You can't let him do that, Mummy," he said, his little voice thick with fear. "Mummy, please don't let him take me."

"We won't," the Queen assured her son, voice like steel. Her expression turned hard and unforgiving. "I'd reconsider making threats like that in my palace. Now leave, or we'll have to force you to do so. We don't negotiate with kidnappers."

Moriarty gave a cold, shrill laugh at that. "Oh, no, you misunderstand me. I don't intend to kidnap him." He smirked at her. "No, Your Majesty. He'll come with me willingly."

The Queen had evidently had enough of this. "Seize him," she commanded, and the guards surged forward. There was a sickening crack, as of bone breaking, and the lights went out. By the time the dining hall was lit once more, Moriarty had vanished from sight. The King commanded the bulk of the guards to search the entire palace, to find the man that had dared to threaten the prince's life. Four guards remained behind, instructed not to leave little William's side. The boy was practically in tears, clearly affected by what the threat against him.

When the guards could find no trace of Aranea's king, William I and Violet eventually decided that they needed to take drastic measures in order to protect their son. Moriarty was powerful, and his magic knew no bounds. Their son wasn't safe as long as he was in the palace. Moriarty had gotten in so easily that evening, after all. What would stop him from coming back later to steal William away and do unspeakable things to him? No, if Moriarty knew where he was, the boy was doomed.

Long after the guests had all been sent home, the young prince himself was sent off. William II would now be called by his second name, Sherlock, in an attempt to disguise his identity further. He would grow up knowing nothing, and he would only be able to return once the danger had passed. He was to be entrusted into the care of his nanny, Mrs. Hudson. Not even the King and Queen knew where Mrs. Hudson would take him.

So while Parthenia's rulers lost a prince, Sherlock lost his identity, his family, his home, but he gained a chance to live.

And that's the end of chapter one! Please leave a comment with feedback if you get the chance, and look out for an update on Friday.