As the trumpet anounce my arival, I wonder if I have just made a gaint mistake. Why in the world would the princess, royal daugter of the high king, want to marry me. I have no strength. No musical skill. All I have is a big mouth and, according to my family and friends, A brain to match.
I win at kings all the time. I will lose any jousting match or sword play, but I can name every king of out kingdom, all the way back to King Lored. Why would the princess consider marrying me, a weakling.
As I think these thoughts, I glance up at the grand palace before me. A two day trip, alone, to be rejected by the fairest lady in the land. I can only hope they will give me time to rest my horse.
I use the back of my hand to brush the golden forlock of my hair away from my eyes. I ride my chestnut mare up to the doors. I dismount and stroke her nose for luck. A stable hand comes up and asks if he can take care of my horse.
"Good day, Zaria. I wish you well." I whisper to my horse.
I turn and face what could very well be my doom.