Obviously (from Lunan)
Of course, she found herself gazing upon the prince, sleeping so peacefully in the fractured moonlight. It caught her off guard, to watch the gentle rise and fall of his chest in that whispery nightshirt. She had a job to do. She looked away from the dreamy being and rattled through his desk. She saw fine toothed combs, rolling her eyes as she imagined him calling over a maid to brush his hair for him. The spoiled urchin. She frowned as she turned over the comb and saw the engraving of a luna moth. The symbol of the Northern Enchantress. She felt an unexplainable chill as she turned the comb over in her hands, squinting in the darkness. Perhaps she was just seeing it wrong. It was dark, after all. There were stacks of books, a dried rose, a small crown that sat on the farthest edge of the dressing table. It wasn’t surprising what she found, but it wasn’t especially familiar either.
Where was the box?
It was promised to be in here somewhere. She searched every table, every desk, lighting her candle and tiptoeing silently. She ducked under his bed, but all she found were fancy socks and underwear. She released the candle and nearly gagged as her fingers brushed up against a pair of lilac boxers. She had to keep herself together, otherwise she was going to accidentally burn the castle down.
Her fingers gripped the candle as she pulled herself up from under the bed. As she rose, she was greeted with two horrified royal eyes.
It was over. He was going to have his guards kill her. Maybe he would kill her himself. It didn’t matter. She was worse than dead…
She expected him to scream, or curse, or bolt up and punch her in the jaw, but she did none of these things. He simply laid there, head propped up against many pillows, blinking. To her great astonishment, he fell back asleep.
She let out a puff of air she had been holding in her lungs, and leapt back into action. She searched the prince’s bedside table, finding a glass of water but no glass box. There were little notes and scribblings and things she couldn’t make out. A small dagger lay on top of them. It was gem encrusted, the flame of her candle picking up the faint glimmerings of white and green. It was probably more for show than anything else.
And then she saw it. A black shape, squarish, perhaps rectangular. The corner of it stuck out from underneath his pillowcase. Just great. She crept closer to the bed, daring not to even breath. She looked at the box, and then the sleeping face. Slowly, she extended her hand and grasped the edge of the box, dislodging it. She let it fall from the pillowcase, catching it with both hands. Relief flooded her veins until she noticed the top engraving. It was a luna moth