"Are you ready, sweetheart?" King Alfor's head poked through the door.

"No," Allura said, turning to the window. She was sitting on her luxurious four-poster bed.

Alfor went in and approached his daughter.

"How long are you going to be mad at me?" he asked, sitting down next to Allura and running a hand through her soft, fluffy hair. It ran down her back in a snow-white wave. It was gathered at her temples and plaited into a small braid with a bright purple ribbon.

"For a long time! I thought you understood me! And you're marrying me off to the first person you meet, just because you have some kind of arrangement with a childhood friend!" Allura jumped out of bed, pulling away from her father's arm. She loved him, of course, but she had other plans rather than arranged marriage.

King Alfor sighed and rose from the bed too, making one last attempt to calm her down.

"Zarkon and I have been friends since we were kids. He has always been at my side in times of danger, and it is only because of him that our kingdoms are at peace now. When you and Lotor were born, we arranged for your marriage to strengthen the bond between our kingdoms. You and Lotor can lead the Alliance to new heights together. People will follow you!"

"I don't care! I don't want to marry him! The galra are ugly, rude, and have only war on their minds!"

Alfor chuckled softly into his moustache.

"Honey, I've sent you a hologram of Prince Lotor several times. Did you look just once?"

"No! And I'm not going to".

"Well, they'll be here in the next half-varga anyway. So you'll meet him at dinner".

Allura turned to her father, her eyes flashing. Her fingers were clenched into fists. Alfor was surprised at how angry she was now. Yes, he knew that she did not like the idea of an arranged marriage, but it was a profitable union for everyone. Besides, King Alfor would never have married her to a dishonest, cross-eyed, rude man. No, Lotor was a Prince, a real one, as if he had stepped out of the pages of Allura's favorite fairy tales. He was strong, like his father, and knew how to lead people. But he was also as smart as his mother, and he had an art of negotiation that played into the hands of both the Galra Kingdom and Altea several times. Still, it was strange that Allura didn't even bother to look at Lotor. Alfor was sure that all her dislike would have faded immediately.

"I'm not going to do it", said Allura.

"Not going to do what? Having dinner? Or get married?"

"Neither!"

"But, my daughter…"

"I will not leave my room until they fly back!" Allura cried, and stamped her foot in confirmation of her decision.

King Alfor frowned. He had been patient enough.

"Listen, child," he said, his voice soft and insinuating — a bad sign — "you are a King's daughter, a representative of the entire people of Altea. So when a delegation from another country comes to visit us, you must receive them. Now, you will pull yourself together, put on your most beautiful dress, go down to the table, and have a pleasant conversation with Prince Lotor, even if he turns out to be a toad from the TL—10 quadrant. Is it clear?"

Allura bowed her head in submission to her parent's will.

"Good girl!" Alfor stroked his daughter's cheek and left the room.

Allura began to pace the room nervously. She went to the window and looked down at the city spread out before her. The Princess imagined a crowded market, noisy squares, and mentally walked to the outskirts, where there were endless meadows, all in bloom. She looked up at the sky. "What if I were a bird and could fly away?" she thought to herself. "What if I could get on a spaceship and go through the Galaxies? Where would fate take me? Why should I get married? What are the remnants of the past?" Allura looked down again, measuring the height. The thought of running away flashed through her mind. But she threw it away and opened the doors of her dressing room instead.

"My father is right, I am a representative of the Royal court. I will appear in all its splendor and glory. After all, maybe this Prince doesn't want to get married either, and then we can figure out how to avoid it together." This thought encouraged the Princess, and she rang the bell for her maids to help her with her dress.

The blue fabric of her skirt rustled around her feet as Allura carefully came down the wide staircase that led to the dining room. Her hand slid lightly over the railing. From this height Allura could examine the guests. She saw her father talking to a very tall and large man. Her mother was laughing with a slim woman whose brown hair was tied up in a neat knot. A cat was dozing on her shoulders. Allura noticed the Altean marks on the woman's cheeks, and this surprised her — the Princess was sure that she had never seen her in their Palace. Then she drew attention to several groups of advisors of the father, and unfamiliar to her galras. They were all talking, holding cups of welcome drinks.

"Which one? Which one?" Allura thought. "Gods of Arus, not this one, I hope? How terrible! And this one has a tail! No… Which one of them?" The staircase was rapidly coming to an end, and the Princess was about to give up all hope of guessing which of the guests was her named bridegroom, when she suddenly noticed a tall, slender male figure at a little distance from the crowd. His back was to her, and Allura was struck by the thick white hair that fell down his back. She froze, afraid to take a step: what if his back and hair were the only things that were beautiful about him? Perhaps this man sensed her gaze, because he turned slightly and looked directly at her.

Allura had never believed in love at first sight before. She was a well-read and educated girl. She believed in the power of affection, friendship, and respect. She did not believe in butterflies in a stomach or in the flowers that bloomed in a heart. That was until the moment she saw this man. Evidently guessing who she was, he turned his entire body toward the stairs and took a few steps toward Allura. The Princess felt her cheeks flush.

The yellow-purple eyes looked directly at her. There was a distinct recognition in them. "And why didn't I look at any of the holograms my father passed me?" she thought with annoyance. "I would have dressed better and chosen a more elegant hairstyle." Allura didn't even know when she started thinking in that direction. But the young man's gaze mesmerized her.

He took a few more steps toward her and held out his hand.

"Princess Allura, there are no words to express how happy I am to meet you in person. My name is Lotor, and I am the Prince of the Kingdom of Galra."

He caught the outstretched hand and bowed when shaking it.

If the Prince's gaze had mesmerized Allura, his voice had completely knocked the ground from under her feet. She didn't know how long she stared at him, but then King Alfor's voice came from beside her, and she awoke.

"My daughter, I see you have already met. Your Highness," said the King of Altea to Lotor, "I have the honor to introduce to you my daughter, Princess Allura, heiress of the Kingdom of Althea.

"No," said Lothor, without taking his eyes off Allura, "it is an honor for me," and he bowed to her again, and then gave her his arm, and she took it to accompany him to the table.

Behind them their fathers exchanging words of approval and joy.

"She seemed to like him. What do you think?" Alfor asked his friend.

"The main thing is that Lotor liked her. And believe me, he will never give up until he has won her favor," Zarkon replied.

"Well ... we'll talk about the wedding date after dinner."

And the two fathers followed their children to the table.