Chapter 2 - Enya of Fierdom

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The Princess Enya was fed up. Yes, that was the best way to describe it. What was the point of this stupid 'medallion ceremony' anyway? Her parents were being so overbearing - it was so unfair. She remembered the conversation they'd had over dinner the last night:

"Enya," her mother had said, "it's time for you to choose a husband. I don't want to spring this on you, but at the medals ceremony you'll meet several other princes-"

"WHAT?"

"You heard me. You've come of age, and you're going to be married to one of the other Princes of the Land."

"No I will not! Have you seen those portraits?"

"Enya, they were done seven years ago."

"I don't care!"

"For all you know, you could fall in love very easily. That's what happened with me and your father."

The King and Queen of Fierdom looked at each other with a fire of passion, somewhat extinguished over the years, but the spark was rooted there forever.

"Never!" Enya cried, storming from the dining chamber.

"Or not," chuckled her father to himself.

"I don't understand her, I never have, what does she want to do, rip the Land apart?" the Queen said despairingly.

"She'll come round. She needs to grow up a little; once she sees those Princes of Leaudon and Erydon she'll change like that." The King snapped his fingers.

Upstairs, Enya was crying her eyes out into her pillow. She would NEVER fall in love, she decided. Never. Not that anyone would fall for me either, she thought as she peered into the mirror on her wall. Her untameable hair stuck in all directions, her whispy figure was just a joke, and those darn FRECKLES...

No, she decided on the morning of the ceremony, as she wriggled into the tight fitting red silk dress. She adjusted the golden tiara on top of her wild hair, placed a ruby necklace about her neck and thought, no.

I will never fall in love.

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