A startled voice interrupted the glassy silence of her room. "Mithrandria! What are you doing?" Her companion, Cammyle, stood in the doorway holding a large basket and looking at Mithrandria.

Cammyle had once been princess of Nagy, a country to the east of Kicsi (the country Mithrandria was princess of). But when Cammyle was 15 Nagy's government was overthrown and her parents killed. She had escaped to Kicsi and came to the capital city, Niggling, to look for a place to stay.

Mithrandria's mother, the queen, had taken Cammyle in as a servant without knowing who she really was. The truth came out eventually and Cammyle became Mithrandria's companion and the closest thing she had to a friend. It's no wonder she gets angry so much, Mithrandria had once thought. It must have been hard to become a servant after being a princess. Especially now that she's my companion.

Mithrandria turned and jumped off the window seat to stand beside it, a good ten feet from the door.

"Explain yourself!" It was Cammyle again.

"I was just sitting," Mithrandria said innocently.

"Well don't!" Cammyle said. "Not on the window sill. How many times do I have to tell you, Mithrandria? What your father would say..." She trailed off and hefted the basket while giving Mithrandria a "just don't do it again" look.

"Here, take these, your mother sent them. All the newest fashions." Mithrandria pretended she didn't know who Cammyle was talking to. I hate it when she acts like my mother, she thought angrily. She's only ten years older than me. She could be my older sister! I'm 15, and she still treats me like a baby.

Mithrandria stood there seething, but she was glad to see impatience in Cammyle's eyes. The seconds stretched on. Finally Cammyle spoke. "Do you want these or not?" Her tone was icy. Oh good, Mithrandria thought. She's losing her temper! Should happen any time now. But just to make sure, Mithrandria turned very slowly to face Cammyle. Making sure Cammyle was watching, Mithrandria smiled and stuck out her tongue. That did it. Cammyle bellowed! "Fine, go naked if you want!" Cammyle bellowed. "Makes no difference to me!" She threw down the basket, then turned and slammed the door. Mithrandria could hear Cammyle's heavy work shoes stomping down the stairs soon after.

She could contain herself no longer. Laughing like a banshee, she danced around her room and collapsed on the floor, shaking with giggles. When she could stand again, Mithrandria practically danced over to a large basket containing sewing supplies at the foot of her bed. She dug through the chaos until she found a pair of sharp scissors. These'll do, she thought.

Kicking off her slippers, she jumped onto her bed. Carefully she lifted an old tapestry away from the wall. Below it was cold stone and a cluster of scratch marks. Finding where she'd left off last time, Mithrandria pulled the scissor points up and down a few times to make a new scratch. Then she counted the tallys. 368! Cammyle had lost her temper 368 times since Mithrandria was seven.

Of course Mithrandria only counted real temper tantrums. The had to include yelling, stomping and slamming. Today's had been a perfect candidate. It didn't take that much to push her over the edge this time, Mithrandria thought. Something must have happened in the kitchens. Mithrandria wasn't the slightest bit worried. Cammyle was always angry.

Mithrandria dropped the tapestry back to its original position on the wall and bounced on the bed some more. Leaping off onto the floor, she landed and cartwheeled over to where Cammyle had left the basket. I'd better hang these up before they get wrinkled, Mithrandria thought.

She had taught the servants from an early age that she could do such tasks herself, and today was no exception. Picking up the basket, Mithrandria carried it over to her closet door. She threw the door open and shoved a spot for the new clothes to hang amid the older ones.

Mithrandria picked up one of the dresses out of her basket and moaned in disgust. "Bleck!" she said aloud. It was horrible. For starters, it was pink. And there was nothing Mithrandria hated more than the color pink. Secondly it was so fashionable. Tight sleeves, puffy shoulders, tiny waist, HUGE skirts. Ugly! Just what she hated. I'll never wear it, She thought. Never!

The rest of the dresses were just as horrible. Same stupid fashion, different colors. Mithrandria knew she would have to wear them. Her mother knew nothing of Mithrandria's dislikes and would call them silly if she did. Mother never cares, she thought. But the only time you'll catch me wearing any of these is if she visits. Which is usually never.

The only dresses Mithrandria usually wore were the ones sent up to be night gowns. They were loose and breezy, most of them with little or no lace. The ones with huge bows could easily be fixed. Mithrandria was better than anyone in the castle when it came to sewing. All of the clothes she owned she had altered in some way.

Finished with the clothes Mithrandria shut her closet and strode over to her huge oak door. She pulled it open with only a little resistance and set the basket outside the door for a servant to deal with later. Then she pulled the door shut and walked back to her bed.

Lying back on it she stared at the ceiling of wooden beams. Many times she had jumped from her armoire to the lowest beam. After doing this she could swing all over her room. But Cammyle had caught her mid swing one day and the yelling at Mithrandria had gotten was enough to make her stop. Most of the time.

Mithrandria began to push herself up and down until she bounced on the mattress. With each bounce she made her feelings clear. "Bored, bored, bored, bored, BORED! She kept doing this until she bounced off the bed and landed on the hard floor. She sat up, rubbing her head and dashed to another door. Finally, something to do.

Behind the door was her library. The books had all been birthday presents to her and she treasured them all. Books were pretty hard to come by. She had twenty at least. Most were beautifully illustrated fairy tales, full of adventure and romance and animals. The only animals she ever saw were stupid birds and the occasional bat.

Mithrandria grabbed one of her favorites and sat back on a chair just inside her library. She read the first three stories with joy, then skipped the fourth. She hated number four. The main character was a knight. To prove himself to the lady he loved, he goes on a quest to find a dragon. Upon finding one, he kills it for no reason. At least no reason Mithrandria could see.

He brings its claw to his beloved princess. She knows that the only way to get a dragon claw is to kill the dragon and she instantly falls in love with him. They get married and live happily ever after.

If Mithrandria was the princess there would be no happily ever after for the prince. She would have him executed for dragonocide. Then she would get a wizard to bring the dragon back to life. The seventh and tenth stories were like that too. She sighed. Why kill innocent dragons? she thought. They don't seem so fearsome to me, just sad. Sometimes she felt like one of the dragons, trapped in who they were as she was in her tower.

Mithrandria read for a while longer until she was interrupted by one of the servants bringing dinner. It was soup. She ate it while finishing the book. She left her dishes in the middle of the room, not feeling like pulling the door open again. She decided to finish an embroidery she had been working on. She opened her sewing basket and took out the cloth. With it came a needle and thread.

She stopped her stitching only when the darkness that was gradually filling her room washed out all light. She stood and was about to light a candle when she heard something strange. It seemed to come from her window. "What's out there?" she murmured softly.

Mithrandria lit the candle and walked softly across the room toward her window. Her stealth was ruined however when her foot connected with her dinner goblet. It fell and crashed into the empty soup bowl making the loudest clatter she had ever heard.

She stood frozen by the dishes until she heard the sound again. This time it sounded something like twang, swish, THWACK. Suddenly she saw something outside her window. Mithrandria ran the last five feet to the sill.

She threw her upper half out into the night air, her eyes desperately searching the dark for any sign of movement. Suddenly she glimpsed a shadow, darker than the surrounding night. It was a human, running away from the castle.

"Wait!" She called "Stop, come back!" It was no good. They were already gone. She stood for a moment looking out into the growing darkness. Then, remembering the movement she had seen near her window, she shifted her body and began to look all around her. Nothing to her right or left. Maybe below, she thought, and quickly looked down. Nothing.