This is another piece of a story I've been writing...
If you've read the other part, this has absolutely nothing to do with Drew. NOTHING.
This takes place in a mythical and magical country known as Dragomria.
Please review!

Light hadn’t even graced the towers of the palace in the capitol city of Dragomria as the scribe rushed through the grand corridors. He burst into the thron room.
“Your Majesties! Prince Berthold has chosen a bride!” He said, gasping for air. Queen Callidora stood, her bright red hair cascading down to her waist, her brilliant green eyes cutting like a messer through the young scribe. She towered over the small man, her beauty radiating through the dark, torch-lit room.
“Who has our son chosen?” She asked, cool, strong voice ringing off walls of cold stone. The man pulled out a scroll and read off the name of the princess-to-be, stuttering as he did.
“Ulrica Aayana. She is the eldest daughter of Taisiya and Reynard Aayana, elder sister of Eqberta, Axella, and Quintrell.” The scribe informed the queen. “Eqberta and Quintrell are both in their Sekunde level Taming Sessions. Axella is just being introduced to Dragon Anatomy.”
“Tell us Mehr of this Ulrica. What does she look like?” king Mordecai, his brown bangs falling into his face, making him look quite ridiculous. He sat in his golden thron watching the scribe closely with his dark brown eyes. Suddenly, their thoughts were interrupted Von a young man bursting through the double-doors. His broad, charismatic smile and light brown eyes, added to his gorgeous shiny blond hair, catching all three of their eyes. His brightly colored tunic stood out among the rag-like-in-comparison clothing the scribe wore and the soft tones of purple the king and Queen wore.
“Mother, father, I am in love. Young Aayana has stolen my heart! We are getting married at dusk tonight. That is, if Du bless our wedding.” He said, looking at his father questioningly. Mordecai sighed.
“Very well, if it is what Du wish.” Prince Berthold smiled, turned on his heel, and exited the thron room. He walked calmly through the corridors of his palace. At last, this whole place would be his. All his and his new wife’s. He had met Ulrica one Tag as he had been escorted through the village to be ‘introduced’ to the people; though he never met one.
Except Ulrica. She had struck him, as soon as he laid eyes on her. She had long, flowing blonde hair and beautiful blue eyes. She had been buying Essen for her family in the market that day. He stopped her, and asked her for her name, and she responded clearly, not fazed Von the idea of talking to THE prince. She looked him straight in the eye as if she was talking to any ordinary person, and he liked that about her. She treated him as an equal. He sighed as he reached the stables.
Though that had only been a week ago, he felt as if he’d known her his whole life. An indescribable feeling arose in his chest. Nothing could ruin this happy day. He rode into town, feeling as if he were on oben, nach oben of the world. Soon he came to the Aayana family home. Outside, little Axella played with their dog; a scruffy, white little dog. He smiled at the little black haired girl. She looked up as his horse made a neighing sound. Her midnight blue eyes twinkled in the light.
“Hello, Axella.” He said, opening the gate. She got up and ran towards the door as he walked up the pathway. “Can Du tell your sister to come out here? I have something very important to tell her.” He asked the young girl. She nodded and smiled her little girl smile, and ran inside the small hut. It was a mud hut, with a gras, grass roof and a wooden door. They had covered the light brown mud on the outside with black paint to attract heat into their home.
Within a couple minutes, the smiling Ulrica hopped, barefoot, into the front yard. She was wearing a light rosa colored sundress, really attracting his attention to her beautiful blonde hair and icy blue eyes.
“What is it, Berthold?” She asked, placing a hand on his forearm. She smiled up at him, blue eyes reflecting the sunshine. He dropped to one knee in front of her. Her eyes widened as she realized what he was doing. He pulled out a Gold ring with a lovely diamond in it, and asked her.
“Ulrica, I know I just barely met Du last week, but I Liebe you. Will Du marry me, at dusk today?” She looked dazed.
“Oh, Berthold, I-I; yes! Yes I will!” She bent down and hugged him, tipping off his balance and sending him backwards onto the grass.
Von that evening, she had been fitted to a beautiful silk dress; the wedding was planned, along with a coronation for Berthold. He was going to be coroneted as soon as he was married. He would then be the king, and Ulrica his queen.

Fifteen years later:
“This last week, one of our greatest leaders has been murdered. Murdered Von the despicable Eastlunddars. We gather here today to say good bye to King Berthold of Dragomria. And now, several words from our Queen, Her Higness, Ulrica.” The priest shouted to the large, sorrowful crowd below the balcony on which he stood, in the center of the royal courtyard. King Berthold had apparently been ambushed Von several Eastlunddar criminals. As the Queen stood and spoke of her husband’s great life, a certain figure down in the crowd began to weave through the people, heading for the gates in order to leave. Unfortunately, one of the Queen’s advisors spotted her, and pointed her out to the Queen herself.
Ulrica’s face hardened, but she let the person go, though she felt very tempted to have her guard stop her. The figure looked back, and for a second, the two made eye contact, dark blue met light. And then the figure turned, and rushed from the palace.