Where's The Princess

Next Day

The early morning sun rose somehow earlier than expected for Eryndra. She sat in front of her mirror as she looked at herself in the reflection, her fingertips tracing the cold glass surface.

Her eyes looked all swollen from shedding too much tears since last night. Dark circles rimmed them like bruises, and her usually bright complexion had turned pale and hollow. She barely recognized the girl staring back at her.

The thought still haunted her - everything still felt like a dream to her. A nightmare she couldn't wake up from. She had cried last night till tears couldn't come out of her eyes anymore, till her throat was raw and her chest ached from the sobs that wracked her small frame. Now she felt empty, like a shell of who she used to be just yesterday.

While outside of her room, the whole palace bubbled with the news about the princess's marriage. Servants whispered in corners, their voices carrying through the stone corridors like autumn leaves rustling in the wind. Kitchen maids paused in their morning preparations to exchange worried glances. Guards shifted uncomfortably at their posts, unsure of what this news meant for their kingdom.

Everyone was surprised by the information, but they had been expecting this day to come eventually. Princess Eryndra was of marrying age, after all, and royal marriages were always political affairs. But what none of them expected was that the prince groom which everyone had been expecting would turn out to be the most feared demon king, Malakar. The name alone sent shivers down spines and made grown men cross themselves in prayer.

Some felt pity for the young princess - she was barely eighteen, still more girl than woman in many ways. The older servants remembered when she used to run through these same halls as a child, her laughter echoing off the walls. Others whispered that maybe the king was trying to achieve a greater aim, that perhaps there was some master plan they couldn't understand. Political marriages often served purposes beyond love, they reasoned.

But what they didn't understand was that Eryndra was sacrificing her life for them. She was walking willingly into darkness so that they could continue to see the light.

"Your highness," Enrica called softly, her voice barely above a whisper as she knocked on the heavy wooden door.

Eryndra turned to look at her, moving slowly like she was underwater. Everything felt sluggish and unreal.

"Oh my goodness, my princess, what happened to you?" she asked, rushing up to her as she dropped the clothes she was carrying on the nearby table. The fabric made a soft thud against the wood.

Enrica's weathered face creased with worry as she took in her princess's appearance. She'd served in this palace for over twenty years, had helped raise Eryndra from a baby, and she'd never seen the girl look so broken.

"Are you okay?" she asked, reaching out tentatively as if afraid Eryndra might shatter at her touch.

"I'm fine," Eryndra replied, but her voice came out hoarse and unconvincing. Even she didn't believe her own words.

Enrica nodded, though her expression remained troubled. "I can't say I know how you feel, your highness, but be rest assured everything will be fine." She said the words, but they both knew it was a lie wrapped in hope. How could anything be fine when she was being sent to marry a demon?

Eryndra smiled softly before she nodded, appreciating Enrica's attempt to comfort her even when comfort seemed impossible.

"Your father gave me these clothes," Enrica continued, gesturing to the garments on the table. They were traveling clothes, practical but befitting a princess. "He said to dress you up - we'll be leaving for Valethorne in the next two hours."

Eryndra's chest tightened softly. She only had a few hours to spend here, in the only home she'd ever known, and after that she'd be gone. Gone for good. These walls that had protected her, these people who had loved her - she was about to leave it all behind for a man who might not even see her as human.

The next two hours passed like minutes. Eryndra found herself memorizing details she'd never noticed before - the way the morning light fell across her bedroom floor, the sound of birds chirping in the garden outside her window, the familiar creak of floorboards in the hallway. She wanted to hold onto these small pieces of home, to carry them with her wherever she was going.

Enrica helped her dress in silence, both women lost in their own thoughts. The older woman's hands trembled slightly as she fastened the buttons and arranged Eryndra's hair. When she was finished, she stepped back and looked at her princess - no longer a child, but a young woman about to face an uncertain future.

"You look beautiful, your highness," Enrica said, though her eyes were bright with unshed tears.

Eryndra squeezed her hand. "Thank you. For everything."

---

HOURS LATER

The carriage was all set, its dark wood polished to a shine and the royal insignia gleaming in the afternoon sun. Horses stamped impatiently in their harnesses, sensing the tension in the air. The king and four other council members would be the ones going over to Valethorne for the wedding, which would be held in Valethorne tomorrow. The thought of it made everyone's stomach churn with anxiety.

"Where's the princess?" King Aldric asked as he looked around, his voice carrying the weight of authority and barely concealed worry. He was dressed in his finest traveling clothes, but his face looked older than it had just days ago.

The servants bustled about, making final preparations, checking and double-checking that everything was in order. No one wanted to give Malakar any reason to be displeased.

"Go get the princess," the king ordered, pointing to a young servant girl who immediately curtsied and nodded before walking away to fetch her.

"I hope our trip to Valethorne just goes smoothly," Lord Thalen Ironhart said, adjusting his ceremonial sword at his side. "Like we all know, it's Malakar we're talking about. Once we get there, avoid anything that would make him upset." His weathered face was grim, etched with lines that seemed deeper today than usual.

The other council members nodded solemnly. They had all heard the stories - entire armies disappearing in the night, kingdoms that had opposed Malakar reduced to ash and memory. They were walking into the lion's den, and they all knew it.

Before the other elders could say anything in response, the maid returned. But she came back alone, her face pale and her hands shaking.

"Where's the princess?" the king asked, sensing her uneasiness immediately. The way she wrung her hands and couldn't meet his eyes made his heart start to race with dread.

"Your highness, she's... she's..." the maid stammered softly, unable to get the words out. Her voice was barely audible.

"Speak!" the king snapped, his patience worn thin by stress and fear.

"I couldn't find the princess," the maid finally said, the words tumbling out in a rush.

Everyone's eyes widened in horror. The air seemed to leave the courtyard all at once.

Lord Thalen Ironhart stepped closer to her, his face darkening. "What are you saying? She was supposed to be in her room!" he snapped, his voice rising with panic.

"No, she's not in there, my lord," the maid replied, shrinking back from his anger.

"No, this can't be happening," Lord Thalen said, running his hands through his graying hair. "There should be no mistake. If the princess has run away, then that means it's the end of our kingdom."

The words hung in the air like a death sentence. Everyone stood frozen, the weight of what this could mean crushing down on them like a physical force. Malakar would not accept broken promises lightly.