Arrio

Part 1: I Meet Prince Annoyance

Being a princess was never my specialty.  Of course, I would never have been put on the throne of any kingdom, if it were not for the series of events I must tell; for if I do not tell the story from my point of view, the maids will ruin it with fairy godmothers.  I never expected my life to take such a turn. This is my story, of how heroically pathetic I am, and how I won the throne.

I shall begin three months before my sixteenth birthday.  My father had planned a ball to try and keep peace between Lyonaire and Aphrile.  Also, to my knowledge, it was brought up by Madame Maybure that a seventeen year old princess, her being my sister, should soon be wed.  Another reason for a ball would be to show off, which my father will not admit was a reason, even though he knows how bad a liar he is.

So, not to bore you, I won’t list the preparations, other than the fact that occasions as this are very stressful.

The ball began at five, and my sister and I were introduced.  I must admit, as I was entering, I noticed that father outdid himself.  The ball was very well decorated and the buffet table was extravagant.  It seemed all of the three kingdoms that were nearest came.  I curtsied at the bottom of the stairs and walked off to the side.  My sister had eligible men lined up to take the first dance.  I stood and waited, glad no one came to dance.  But I was mistaken, three songs in a heavy man with a red face came over.  The crown on his head suggested trouble so I curtsied so low I was almost sitting.  I stayed there until he spoke.

“Princess...” he said a little out of breath, “My son will take the first dance.” 

I looked up, stunned.  From behind the man stepped a surprisingly thin young man with brown hair.  It fell just above his eyes.  To tell the truth his outfit was more impressive than the scowl he wore.

Not wanting any trouble, I replied, “Why of course.”

Hesitantly the prince placed his hand before me.  I took it, and as the king turned his back I asked as he led me to the floor, “Is is a custom in your country to scowl constantly?”

He rolled his eyes, “You haven’t learned that insulting Aphrile is as bad as provoking a dragon, apparently.”

I hid my surprise at who he was by stating, “You’re Nyar then.”  I must inform you that even the coldness in my voice surprised myself.

We took up a dance hold and began to step.  When I noticed his boots laced up, I almost let a giggle escape.  He gave me an odd look, and I looked down.  I was able to get the toe of my horrid slipper into the bow of the lace and pull it looser.  Within twenty steps I completed untying his boots.  The next step he took sent him stumbling and he muttered a nasty Aphrile curse in my ear.  I gave him a sinister look and he stomped on the hem of my skirt.  The sound of the rip was louder than the damage, but it was all too embarrassing.  I stepped my heel on his foot and he pulled my hair while spinning me.  This battle continued and by the end of the dance we both had rips and tears, but as the last note played he leaned me back I knew he was mad, but did not expect him to drop me on purpose.  I saw him turn and then felt terrible pain. As my head hit the ground all went black.  The battle was over.

***

I awoke in my bed as always in the morning.  While I was passed out a maid some how got me in my night dress.  Sunlight streamed through the window, and I walked to the mirror.  That is when I noticed the bandage around my head.  I frowned deeply and touched it with my left hand, and I realized how terribly painful the back of my head hurt.  My hair was clipped up so I could easily see the bandage.  I reached with my right arm for my hair brush and was shocked when I screamed in pain.  Now I realized my arm was bandaged.  A maid came dashing in.