My mother walks into the room just minutes after I slip under the covers. It's a good thing, too. Who knows what she'd do if she discovered me hopping through the window.
"Up with the sun and just as bright, Evarinya" she chirps. "It's the big day!" I groan. The dress that she picked out for me is a beautiful forest green, but it takes forever to get into. And that's not counting the jewelry and intricate hairstyle. Today is the one day I actually have to look like a princess. Her dragon, Fírnen peeks through the window and connects with my mind.
"Who knows? One of them might pick you," he says to me. He's right, but it's hard to believe. And anyway, if a dragon chooses me, they're making a mistake. I trip on air, and can barely do the second level of the Rimgar. Mother let me ride Fírnen once, and I fell off before we got five feet off the ground, and I broke my arm.
They exit the room, leaving me to dress in peace. I slip on the beauty that is my dress, and fiddle with the complicated straps. The diamond choker Mother lent me clasps around my neck, and the matching earrings dangle by my cheekbones. I slip on the shoes that she laid out for me, and take a quick peek in the mirror. I feel more like a princess than I ever have before.
I leave my room to go to breakfast, and along the way I see Ambassador Karad of the dwarves leaving his room, too. He comes to me and says, "You look beautiful, my lady."
"Thank you, Master Karad," I respond, as is polite.
"Are you excited to see the dragons?"
"Definitely," I say. I'm nervous, though. I have to sing for everybody, but they can't know that. It is a surprise to honor the dragons.
"I'll see you during the procession," Karad says as he exits the hallway. I walk through the grand oak doors to the dining room and see that the table is already set with my favorite foods: light, fluffy pancakes drowning in fresh syrup, and fruit from the forest.
I dig in right away, and after a couple mouthfuls, I look up at my mother. The horrified expression on her face is priceless and I start laughing right then and there.
"Evie, control yourself! The procession will start any minute now; you need to be ready," she hisses. Ignoring her, I start to peel my orange. The trumpets start to play, and the Procession of the Dragons has begun.