It’s not fair at all. You’re not even a girl!,”

Glad to be wearing a brocaded riding outfit rather than a flowing gown as befits a royal princess, Amos, my bodyguard and boyhood friend, lifted me up onto the saddle of my favorite Rumperdon. Rumperdons are large herbivores similar to the pictures of our home world’s elephants that Merlyn once showed me.

From my seat on the back of this gentle, sometimes comically docile creature, I waved to the sea of Easterners before us, shouting good wishes and prayers. They fervently believed that my wedding to Prince Kelvin would appease the Gods and divert the Dagger from its destructive path.

There were eight Rumperdons in our caravan. Two royal guards, Amos and Vance, armed with broadswords and crossbows, led our cortege, followed by Merlyn and me. The retinue was completed with a lady’s maid, a manservant, and Merlyn’s assistant, a tremulous girl named Luna.

The last Rumperdon was weighed down with food, clothing and essential supplies.

We didn’t need to bring a gift with us since, in all honesty, I suppose, I was the gift.