4. Make her strong.

Blankly staring out into the dark night, Barak used the ball of fire twirling between his fingers to sketch a rough figure of his so-called chosen bride, as he wondered what she would look like.

She wasn't old. That much he knew. She had just come of marriageable age, so he'd heard. But other than that, no one seemed to have a description of what his bride-to-be looked like.

The only other information he had been able to gather about his beloved bride was that she was a pompous, spoilt princess, the last female child of King Gerald II.

If she'd been shielded this much all this time, to the point where no one knew her face, Barak believed it was because of one of two things; she was either very, very ugly to look upon, or she was the dream of men.

But if he were to put a face to the character and personality he had been told she possessed, then she had to be one ugly looking elf.

He didn't want this.

Not for anything in the world! He didn't want to have to spend the rest of his life dealing with a spoiled brat for a wife.

He was a man who issued orders and they were followed without hesitation not only because he was the crown prince, but because he had earned the respect of his people.

He had always known that a time would come when he would have to take a forever partner, a wife. One with whom to share warmth with. One to cherish and love for eternity.

But damn it, he had been sure he would be the one to make such a decision.

But now he was to marry a feeble elf! He frowned and almost spat with disgust. He had nothing against elves, their nations had been at peace for a long time now. And they were strong in their own right. But they were nothing compared to a dragon blood.

He just didn't like elves! They behaved and looked prouder than they should.

"She'll definitely be a princess through and through." He thought to himself. One who can't stand breaking a nail, one who can't stand a little tangle of her hair.

He inhaled and exhaled loud and long. He never really thought he'd end up marrying an elf.

But he was no child either, he understood the Importance of such marriages. It was a political move. He was the crowned prince, it was his duty. He had no plans to reject the proposal. He just hoped that his ugly lazy bride would be redeemable.

He frowned, if she wasn't redeemable, he would bend her into being obedient and submissive! And then he'd train her in the dragon way, he'd force her to be strong.

A wife was to be a strength to her husband not a weakness. He'd be damned before he'd let any woman, wife or mistress, become a liability or weakness to him!

If she was to be his wife, then by the heavens, she would learn to be strong like a dragon, and honor him. If not, face his wrath!

…

For decades, there had been peace between the two kingdoms. The Avelah and Trago Kingdom.

To show their trust and bond between them, the royal families made a pact to visit each other once every year. The visitation was rotated.

If the Trago nation(Kingdom of the descendants of the great white wyvern and the largest dragon kingdom) were the ones who visited the Avelah Kingdom (kingdom of the elves of the goddess Aveliana and the most prosperous elven kingdom) last year, then this year the Avelah Kingdom will visit the Trago Kingdom.

This was to prove that no kingdom was bigger than the other, they were equal, brother Nations.

This year, it was the Trago Kingdom visiting the Avelah Kingdom.

Now, Princess Neriah was set on escaping the confines of her bed chambers just to sneak to the other side of the palace where the people of Trago were.

She needed to see her future barbarian!

"My lady, this is madness! Forgive me but you are mad! You cannot sneak out of the castle again! The king will find out, and when he does, you will bring down his wrath. And you know he hardly gets angry, but when he does, he is unforgiving!" Aria, hand-maiden of princess Neriah spoke with a quivering breath.

"Let him be mad and angry for all I care! I do not care! He has decided to sell me over to some disgusting old barbarian, and you expect me to sit back and just wait to be carried away like a sack of potatoes??"

Aria could not help but panic. She knew her mistress more than anyone. If Neriah was determined to be reckless, she would do it wholeheartedly!

How was she supposed to dissuade an angry princess from making horrible decisions?

Neriah had no time to think of repercussions, she was already dressed in a maid's clothing with a black cloak over her head. She was set to move.

"Princess Neriah, you have to think about this reasonably. You will not only be angering the king, but also endangering yourself! You might be attacked on your way. Bad things could happen to a young woman who looks the way you do! You just came of age My lady, your powers are yet to reach their full potential. What would happen if a band of stronger men were to catch you? How will you fight them? You cannot match their strength!"

What more could she say? What more did she have to tell this strong-headed princess to make her see that she was making a rash and foolish decision?