"Once upon a time," Naja's father began, "There was a beautiful princess." Naja squirmed in her bed, eagerly awaiting her nightly bedtime story.
He always began with those same four words, 'Once upon a time,' ending with, 'And they lived happily ever after.' For as long as she could remember, that was how it had always been. The problem, the resolution, the happy ending.
As far as she knew, this was how her life was.
"Go on, Daddy! Tell me about the princess!" Naja giggled. The stories were her life, her hope, her dreams.
"The beautiful princess lived in a lovely castle. She had toys of every kind, servants to do all her chores, and the most gorgeous dresses in all of the land!" The man pantomimed the tale enthusiastically to his little daughter, and she sighed wistfully, imagining how wonderful such a life could be.
"But she was very sad, this beautiful princess." Naja sat up suddenly in her bed.
"Why?" To little Naja, it was a crime for a princess with so many wonderful things around her to not be happy. Impossible.
"This princess was upset because she wasn't aloud to ever leave her tower. She was very lonely, with no friends and only a few servants to keep her company."
"Why couldn't she leave, Daddy?" Naja's big, silvery eyes were wide with curiosity and sympathy for the princess.
His smile faded very slightly, and his eyes suddenly were looking away from her face. They darted around the room, examining the wallpaper, studying the floor. Anywhere but her.
"She couldn't leave, Honey, because a big, ferocious dragon was forever outside her window, watching her every move, never leaving." He finally gazed upon his child, her face pasty and unwell. Her violently red hair was plastered to her forehead with sweat. She breathed with an effort too great to be healthy, and she was hooked up to a heart rate monitor that beeped steadily every second or so.
"I'm sorry, Sweetie. It's time for sleep."
Her doe eyes blinked. "But you haven't finished the story yet." This was unheard of. Her daddy always finished his stories before he left.
His smile was too wide to be sincere. "I know, Dear. But I have to go now. I'll see you tomorrow." He kissed the forehead of his dying daughter, stood, and left her hospital room.
"Have you thought about his offer yet?" He inhaled sharply, and turned to look at the tall, imposing man who had spoken. Running a hand through his hair, Naja's father squared his shoulders and faced the messenger head-on.
"Do it," he commanded.