It was my sixteenth birthday. It was to be a day of gifts and dancing, good food, joy, and nervous anticipation of things to come. Also a little dread, but that was to be expected. What I didn't expect was the message that came to me and, once delivered, began the slow and inevitable ending of my world.
Yes, I know. To a teenager, all blows, however slight, herald the end of the world. But I was a Princess, and Princesses are trained to a certain measure of decorum and responsibility. I already understood that the world, or at least my family's corner of it, rested partially upon my shoulders. I was not given to apocalyptic proclamations lightly.
Is that not how it is with young royalty where you come from? Well, then, you must simply take my word. I may have been obliged to leave my own royalty behind me, but my honor remains intact. You may trust the things I say.
It was, as I say, my birthday, and that meant a grand gala in the royal ballroom....
__This has been an excerpt from the Friday Fictionette for October 16, 2015. Subscribers can download the full-length fictionette (1074 words) from Patreon in PDF or MP3 format depending on their pledge tier.Cover art incorporates art from the Rider-Waite tarot deck, originally published in 1910