"By the Gods, why must we throw parties to celebrate me becoming another year older?" I asked my mother. "Because it should be celebrated Gwendolyn, you are the princess. The heir to the throne of Houndsvalley." "I know I am the future queen, but I see no reason to why to make it such a big deal. Wouldn't you rather use the money towards more pressing matters? There are many outside these walls that do not know when they will eat again." "Oh, dear, you will make a wonderful queen. Your kind and tender heart will make you loved by the people. But, not all people are like you, there are cruel, evil men in this world." "Well, I will deal with that when I am queen!" I said, very determined. "I am sure you will, but for now, you have to deal with the parties." "Fine." "Now run along, I have important last minute adjustments to attend to." "Okay, mother." I got up from my chair and followed my mother out the doorway. Seriously? Why do I have wear these stupid, uncomfortable dresses? I thought. They're just awful. I know it isn't lady like to wear tunics and breeches, but who said I wanted to be a lady anyway? It isn't like I asked to be the child of the King and Queen. But anyway, I am going to be stuck with a bunch of snobby dukes, duchesses, and their children. The only two people who understand me are father, who can't make it to the party, and Sir Arthur, the head of the Royal Guard, who father left here to guard me and mother. I absentmindedly walked through the very familiar corridors of the castle. Where am I going again? I rounded a corner and was swept off my feet and sent sprawling across the stone floor. "Hey! Watch where you're going!" "Oh, I'm so sorry!" A young boy offered his hand. I fixed my crown and took his hand. He helped me to my feet, "Listen, I am terribly sorry about that." "Boy! What did you do?" Sir Arthur marched down the hall. "Are you alright Princess? Did he hurt you?" "I am fine Sir Arthur." "Okay, Flynn, in the future please watch where you are going." "Yes father." he said dejectedly. Sir Arthur ruffled the boy's black hair. "Did he say you are the princess?" "Yes, well you know who I am, but who are you?" I asked looking over the boy in front of me. "So sorry, I, princess, am Flynn Nightbrook, the first born son of Sir Arthur Nightbrook and Lady Sarah Crowley." "Oh, no need for formalities, I loathe them." Flynn looked a bit taken aback. Was he expecting me to be snobby? Sorry to disappoint, but I'm the exact opposite. "So, Flynn, is running in to girls at full speed a hobby of yours?" I asked, my voice full of sarcasm. "I do not do that very often." he laughed. "Really? By the way you knocked me off my feet, I could have sworn that you must practice it daily." "You know, for being a princess, you are not such a stuck up person." "Thank you? Honestly, I am not sure how to respond to that." A pale servant approached. "Princess, your mother has sent for you. She wishes to see you in her room." "Thank you, Marshall. Well, it seems I am needed elsewhere. Perhaps we shall meet again, Flynn Nightbrook."
