Born into the royal family of a neighboring Kingdom to the Valley of Thorns, now Briarland, your birth- or- at least- the gathering to celebrate it had angered far too many.

Maleanor Draconia, the Queen of the Valley of Thorns, had arrived at the celebration of your birth- accompanied by two infamous generals who stood to the sides of her- Vanrouge and Baul. Upon not receiving an invitation to, it seemed that she had taken personal insult to it… which you suppose had been a reasonable reaction. However, as the onlookers watched in horror, a curse was placed on you-

You were to die at sixteen, upon being pricked by the needle of a spindle. She had disappeared in a mist of green immediately after the spell.

Your fairy godmothers did much to help… and your fate had been changed upon the blessing of one last being. While you were still to lose your consciousness of the world at the touch of a needle, you were spared from death.

Instead, true love’s kiss would save you from what replaced your end- an eternal sleep.

The royal family still feared for your safety, however. It was clear the faes had it out for your blood for angering their Queen, and, upon this realization, you were rushed into the woods. Not in the wilderness- not completely, at least. A cottage- one that only your three fairy godmothers knew about- was where you stayed since before you turned a year old. You lived in a quiet peace for the next years of your life- fully aware of your situation, as informed by the fairies who raised you- instead choosing to not think of it. However, you could not run from your future.

By royal decree, you were to head back to the palace by horse the next night. You had many mixed emotions of it.

Crack. The sound of a tree branch snapping pulled you out of the little world you had been in. The birds that previously sung around you flew away in surprise, and the squirrels let out their little chitters as the patter of tiny paws on leaves and grass could be heard. Looking up in confusion, you quickly stumbled back at the sight of a horned man- More specifically, the son of the woman who had cursed you when you had just been a day old.

For quite obvious reasons, you rushed to grab your basket in fear- though you were stopped by the elegant voice of the Prince.

“I am not seeking trouble,” Malleus commented, seemingly surprised that you saw him as a threat. Quite absurd, as his mother had been the reason for your fate for the past fifteen- soon to turn sixteen- years. It was completely out of the question that he would never had heard of the situation. His hands were held up in a sign of safety… not that it did much to help. “I found your sight beautiful. I apologize if I scared you.”

The fae royalty seemed to test his chances as he stepped forwards- a look of dismay crossing his face as you continued stepping back at his same pace. However, you stopped yourself at the edge of the lake. “I am fully aware of the dynamic we share, but I assure you, I am not here to end your life.”