I tried to enjoy the rest of the week with Terry before Paris came for me.

We had some good times together. Terry was good at cheering me up, and he was a good teacher, too. By the end of the week, I was competent at sewing, cooking, and cleaning. Many of the templars snickered that I would be a competent wife for the king-to-be. I took it as a compliment.

“Don’t worry, Princess. They’re all just jealous puritans. They want a wife for themselves.” Terry assured me.

I giggled a little at that.

Terry tried to teach me some other things human women were expected to do—including something called a ‘curtsy’—and he looked very funny when he showed me--I assumed it was because he was a boy. He also tried to teach me a little dancing, but he, himself, was not very good at it. We ended up stepping all over each other’s feet. But we had fun practicing, anyway.

But, unfortunately, the end of the week came. It was a rainy day came and it heralded the youngest prince’s arrival at the temple. I followed Leon to the front door, and he paused before opening it. He turned to me with a sorrowful expression and said, “Princess, I am sorry… I thought this was the best option for you.”

I said nothing to him. I hated him for not even bothering to ask me what I wanted. I would have liked to stay in the temple all my life rather than marry a mean and violent prince.

Leon opened the door, and a seven-foot-tall, dark-haired man who was dressed very handsomely was waiting for me along with an entourage of mounted knights waving the standard of Ironwall.

I assumed this was the prince. He had a great big scar on his face running from his forehead, across his nose, and down to his chin and was dressed more grandly than any of the knights in his company. He may have been dressed handsomely, but he was not handsome. His hair was incredibly short and thin and there were deep lines on his forehead and under his eyes even though he was very young.

I stepped towards him quietly and did a ‘curtsy’ like Terry had attempted to teach me to do. I messed it up, and felt hot with embarrassment because of it. Nobody in the prince's entourage seemed to notice or care, however.

The prince, Paris, reached out and took one of my four hands and kissed it—making me flinch. “It’s lovely to meet you, Princess.”

I nodded silently as some of the knights in the entourage bit back laughter.

I introduced Terry, who was standing next to me. “This is my… This is my friend Terry. He wishes to be one of my personal guards. If… If it’s okay with you. Leon has already approved it.”

Paris nodded. “That’s fine.”

He stepped into the horse-drawn carriage he had arrived in, and then held out a hand for me. I took it and stepped in after him. He closed the curtain after I entered.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

I settled down next to him silently and stared forward at the wall.

My heart was pounding.

He picked up a book he had left in the carriage and began reading it.

He was scary and silent. I sweated nervously and felt sick with worry and anxiety.

But I remembered I had something to do before we left the kingdom!

“Wait!” I accidentally shouted a little loudly.

The prince looked up from his book--looking a little perturbed. “Yes, Princess?”

“My dress! We must visit the shop for my dress!” I demanded.

“You shall have many more dresses, Princess. Fear not.” The prince went back to reading his book.

I growled. “I want this dress!”

The prince raised an unimpressed eyebrow, but then called to the man driving the carriage, “stop at the dress shop, please.”

The seamstress had the beautiful dress ready, and she handed it to me—all folded up prettily—and then we went on our way again.

The prince said nothing about the dress that I placed next to me inside the carriage as we travelled. In fact, he said nothing at all. He must have been severely angry that he was being married to a beast.

I was lonely with no one to talk to and I lay on my side and went to sleep while we travelled.

__

Envenheim, 181

We travelled for two months, and thankfully nothing eventful happened. It was one of the loneliest and saddest times in my life, however. I spent the whole trip penned in the carriage with the prince, and he hardly said a word to me. Everytime we stepped out of the carriage on the trip, I made sure he went first and then I followed after him. I never wanted to be any closer to him than was necessary.

Everytime we stepped out of the carriage and rested for the night, I was overly joyed just to see Terry, and all the more happy to speak with him--but then we would be separated again once I climbed into the carriage and I would be alone with the dark and angry prince.

Eventually, however, after a rough and long two months, we arrived at Nui.

I fell to my knees and I wept at the sorry state my home was in.

Wood and debris were scattered all about a once lush and green land which was now barren and brown. My beloved home, the castle that was once located up in a mighty moth tree—treated to be that big by moth magic—was shattered and replaced with a human castle located nearby on the ground. The castle was made of ugly gray stone and was quite small.

The worst moment of the journey was the bodies. I thanked the moth gods that I did not see the bodies of any family members, but I nonetheless had the misfortune of peeking out from behind the curtain and seeing moth bodies strewn about that had not yet been buried. The image was burnt into my memory and would not leave. The prince did not comfort me, but listened to me weep ineffectually.

To top off the miserable two months was the marriage which took place almost immediately when we arrived. We got married in front of thousands of humans—and a few moth slaves—before the entrance of the newly built human castle.

It was a human procession through-and-through. Moths always got married in private and were expected to make love soon after—I prayed the prince found me repulsive enough that he would do no such thing, or that human customs were different from our own.

The only thing I liked about the marriage was the beautiful white dress I got to wear. Below the waist it was six, luscious layers of ivory with golden butterflies embroidered on the bodice. Otherwise, when the tall prince kissed me lightly on the forehead—avoiding my lips--the whole crowd erupted in laughter at the joke of a wedding and I stared blankly at them in tears.

My dream was always to be a wife, and that dream was made into a hideous reality.

Paris held out a hand to me. “Come with me, Princess. We still have the rest of the ceremony to get through.”

I took it while sniffling and while the crowd still laughed uproariously.

I must stop writing for now and rest. That is all I have felt like doing of late.