(Epilogue) "And they're off," said the commentator as the racing men took off.
"Sister, which do you want to win?" Arianna asked her older sister, Camellia.
"None, I think that I should be able to choose my own husband and not my father," Camellia informed her for the hundredth time.
"I think number twenty-seven looks pretty good, and he was trying to catch your eye all last night, which as you know could be a very dangerous thing,"
"Yes, but don't you understand, my husband is being judged by how fast he runs and how swiftly he can kill his opponent. I don't care about any of those things, I want to marry for love and not for the physical abilities of my lover. You'll understand someday." "It looks like number twenty-seven has won!" the analyst exclaimed.
How sad sister looked today, I think she was actually telling the truth, about choosing her own husband.
I was in my room getting ready for dinner. I was in my most beautiful shirt (since we don't wear pants, since we are centaurs), with the necklace my father had gotten me, and as always my golden crown. (If truth were told, I was trying to catch the eye of the soldier that they call Lancelot)
Camellia was to get married tonight, and although she sounded quite blissful about it, I could see right through her act, and I knew that she was as depressed as anyone could ever be.
The wedding went well, I know that I will probably never see my sister again, but I think she might finally be happy and taken good care of. I hope!
She is right in one thing though. I realized this last night; I want to choose my own husband and I want to truly love him. I will run away in a month (or maybe less than depending on how fast we can make a plan), hopefully with my younger sister, Ashley, for I do not know if I will be able to go alone. I will talk to her tonight about it.