After we talked, I went back in bed. I had peaceful sleep. But when I woke up, I remembered that I would have to marry the cursing Sadon. Ugh.

I put on my favorite dress, which was a light blue color, and had long draping sleeves. It's skirt was not layered as much as the other party dresses, and it's hem was real braided silver. My most favorite part was the belt. It was also sliver, but had a sapphire the size of a smooth stone you would find in the water.

          After I got dressed, I came downstairs, to eat. When I came in, I was greeted by the aroma of freshly baked bread, and orange soup. My father greeted me with a kind smile. I finally sat down, and started eating. Then I realized that I haven't told Father the actions of Sadon.

           "Father, I have a thought about Sadon, the one I am going to marry."

           "Ah yes," he said. He wiped his mouth with his napkin. "What would you like to tell me?"

             I never really liked talking about marriage, especially when I was supposed to marry this one. My father was so sure of Sadon being the right one, and I hated to bring him down. Finally, I took a deep breath and said, "I'm not going to marry Sadon."

             My father sighed and said, "Now why is that Isabelle?"

            "He's... just... Not right."

            "Why would you say that? I think he's a fine young man."

              I twisted my silver belt between my fingers. I never liked disagreeing with him. But I knew I had to tell him. Right as I was about to tell him, a servant came in and whispered in my father's ear. He gave me an apologetic smile and said, "I'm sorry, Isabelle. I have something to attend to."

              I sank in my chair, and heaved a devastated sigh. Father did that a lot. When I want to tell him something important, he was needed. But this was really important.

             I wasn't hungry, so I excused myself from the table, and walked in my room up the stairs. I sat on a chair in front of my mirror. Sometimes I would practice talking to my reflection so I wouldn't stutter when I wanted to have a serious conversation with Father. I tried to talk in a calm, respectable way, being careful not to add angry words. But now, I didn't want to practice. I couldn't take it anymore. He was too busy to talk. I felt my blood bubbling inside. Stop it. Father has reasons to be busy. He's the king! Get that inside of your thick skull.
            It was hard to calm down. Especially if you had no one to talk to. I sighed and looked at my reflection. My blonde hair was swept over my shoulder, my blue eyes looked intense from anger, and my face was flushed red. Anger doesn't solve anything. It only makes hate. I looked like I had a battle in my mind. I did. My gaze fell, and I looked at the sapphire attached to my belt. I rubbed it to calm my nerves.

           I looked at my reflection again. "Have any ideas?"

          I jumped in my seat when I heard a knock on my door. "Come in," I said in a shaky tone. I felt nervousness well up inside my throat as my father walked inside. He never came in my room ten minutes after he had been called by a servant. He put his hand on my shoulder and kissed the top of my head. He looked in the mirror, and our reflections looked at each other.

       "What did you want to tell me, child?" He asked in a gentle tone.

         I thought of words to say. I couldn't speak. My head felt like it was about to explode. Then, I realized that I didn't need to tell Father about Sadon. I needed to tell him about my dream I agreed to tell him last night.

      "I... Wanted to talk about my dream last night," I said.

      "Ah." He sat down on the foot of my bed, and rested his chin on his knuckles. "Tell me everything."

       I told him about the little girl, and the city sinking and falling apart, as if being swallowed up underground. His eyes became wider, his knuckles slowly came off his chin, and the corner of his mouth started twitching. I didn't understand why. He had a look of sorrow and uncertainty in his eyes—but he said nothing. He remained silent. After I finished, he seemed to be pondering about my dream. When I reached over and touched his hand, he jumped and made me yelp in surprise. "F-father, are you alright?"

    "I'm alright," he said shakily. He eyes were moist, and worry lines formed on his face. I started to worry. I sat beside him and took his hands. "Father, what's the matter?" I asked in the softest voice possible.

     He looked at me and smiled. "It's just that... You're growing up, and that... I will miss you when you're gone."

     I didn't know what he meant. Did he mean that he would miss me when I got married? He was scaring me. I bit my lip as I thought. Stop thinking. You don't want to be worried, and neither does he. Without hesitating, I embraced his neck. He pulled me tighter, and I could feel his heartbeat. "I'll be fine. I promise."

    We held each other for a little while. I didn't want to let go, but I knew I had to. I finally let go, and kissed his forehead. I smiled. I was happy that he took the time to talk.

     He smiled back and rose up to go. Before he left the door, he stopped and said, "Happy birthday, Isabelle."