“Lovely princess, fair, would you do me the great honour of joining me in dance?”

A curt remark nearly slipped past her teeth, before the princess thought better of it. The prince’s eyes were gleaming with mischief. Annoyance stirred within Larrenelia, once more.

“Certainly, dear prince. I can think of nothing that would delight me more.”

She could not keep the sarcasm from seasoning her voice, though Mord’rall seamed pleasantly amused by her response. He held his hand out and, with loathing of her situation, the princess placed her hand within his grasp again.

For nearly the entire duration of their dancing, the prince said nothing. Instead, he seemed to be studying her, as if to learn some great secret. Try though she might, Larrenelia could not help the scowl that grew ever fiercer with each turn and dip and sway. At last, Mord’rall spoke.

“While I cannot claim to be eager to wed a Fae F’erren princess, I suspect you shall make things rather interesting.”

Larrenelia could stand no more of the prince’s absurd banter.

“I understand you enjoy a good jest, Prince Mord’rall, but I assure you, that is unamusing. Indeed, I would go as far as to say it is unbecoming of one possessing our level of status, even for one of your kind.”

“It is no jest, princess. Were you not told why my ‘kind’ was invited? This is in celebration of our engagement. Our fathers wished to sort out all the details of our impending wedding, you see. If you do not trust my words, perhaps you should ask your father what he is discussing in such earnestness with my father.”

Horrified, Larrenelia glanced toward the dais, where the two kings were in deep conversation. As she watched, the two clasped arms, seeming to come to some form of agreement.

Rage filled the princess, and she left Mord’rall, not concerning herself with how it might appear to any who watched. Larrenelia stormed toward the dais, brushing off Queen Oremendelia’s questions and cautioning words.

“Is it true?”

King Rivanlorr looked up at his daughter in confusion. His expression soon shifted to one of understanding and something that was not quite regret, but very nearly.

“Please, daughter, do not be dismayed. We do not mean to rush you, or Prince Mord’rall. We mean to give you time to learn of each other, as well as the other’s kingdom.”

“Dearest, know that we have your best interests at heart. You are of age; it is time for you to cease your child’s play and enter into your role as princess and wife.” Queen Oremendelia reached toward her daughter.

Fighting back tears, Larrenelia pulled away from her mother’s touch.

“How could you do this to your only daughter? Did you not think to ask for my opinion on the matter?”

“Enough of your antics, my child.” King Ravinlorr rose from his seat. “We did not think to ask for your opinion, because your opinion is of no consequence in these matters. It is the way of things, Larrenelia. The sooner you learn to accept your duties as princess, the happier you will be.”

“I know it seems an impossible task, my dear. But I assure you, ‘tis not the end of all things. Your father and I were wed through similar arrangements, and we have come to love each other deeply.”

“That was entirely different. You didn’t have to marry a monster, an enemy of your kingdom.”

“Larrenelia!” Queen Oremendelia looked distraught by her daughter’s outburst.

The princess knew it was uncouth to say such things before the very subject of her insults. Yet, the words had flown from her as if of their own volition. It was cruel of her parents to arrange her marriage to a prince of the Maedhrin kingdom.

“Hold your tongue, daughter. How dare you speak of our guests in such a way?”

Unable to withstand further torment, Larrenelia fled from the ballroom. She ignored the distressed cries of her parents, desperate to escape the crushing betrayal she now felt. The princess fluttered up stairwells and down halls. She did not care that it was deemed unseemly for a royal faerie to use her wings for flight. All she could think of was her hurt and anger, and something far better than the world she had been born into.

At last, Larrenelia reached her bedchamber. She closed the door behind her, dropping the latch which would bar others from entering. She retrieved a satchel from its place of hiding upon the beams of wood above. The red-haired faerie then draped a cloak about her shoulders, folding her wings to keep them hidden within the fabric.

As Larrenelia strode across her chamber, there came a sudden pounding upon the door. She jumped at the sound and waited for the briefest of moments to ensure the locking latch was well in place. When she determined that it would hold, the faerie moved to her bookshelves and took the volume of enchanted text from where she had hidden it earlier. It seemed a lifetime had passed since then.

Stuffing the book into her satchel, Larrenelia moved the distance to the window. The faerie would have preferred more time to prepare, but she had not been given much choice in the matter; none, in fact, thanks to her parents. She pulled the shutters aside and dragged a cushioned bench beneath the opening. The battering upon her door continued as she stepped onto the bench. She had barely placed her foot through the portal when a loud click sounded in the chamber.

Larrenelia watched in horror as her door was flung wide. She barely had time to notice Mord’rall standing in the entrance – her worried parents directly behind him – before she threw the rest of her body through the portal.