Nyandra gazed at everything in the market. The beautiful lights of the fire flies glowed against the darkness of the forest. The beautiful lights hung over the branches of the trees overhead. Tyron's hand holding hers so securely that she began to dose off, then his voice cut through the street buzz.

"Um, are you planning on getting a ride away from this town in that?" He said a little too loudly. Nyandra looked down to discover she was still wearing a pink satin gown. A glittering crown of leaves rested on top of her head.

"Oh!" She cried in shock and in realization. She hadn't really thought about it but coming back to reality she stuck out like a sore thumb. Everyone around her was wearing brown and black. Everyone was staring and bowing as she passed.

"Ok, you don't seem to know the first thing about running away with the guard on your tail." She gave him a confused look. "Did you really think that your father"-her heart lurched at his name- "gave up on finding and killing me on that one night so many years ago? I spent three years with them right behind me, tracking me." His voice had a strange edge to it as he hissed out the words.

"And then you became the evil one." She whispered with a shudder. A look of anger crossed his face.

"I didn't intend it to happen that way." He growled.

"Oh so you just thought that you could turn against the country and-"

"Stay alive so I could see you again, to see your bronze eyes sparkling like golden stars in the heavens. I needed to hold your hand again and to keep my promise. I am sorry it happened that way but I had no choice."

Nyandra turned pink and was about to lean up and stare into his eyes when she remembered the seriousness of the situation.

"So you went against my country and my father just to see me again!" tears welled up in her eyes.

"Nya, what has happened to you?" he said in his smooth angelic voice. "Have the years of following the rules turned you weak?"

Nyandra thought for a moment about the years passed. He was right. She had the perfect thing to say but instead chose to change the subject.

"Lets get some new clothes." She said nonchalantly.

Tyron led the way to a small shop. The brown and black of the clothing blended in with the dark boards of the stall. A stout elderly lady stood proudly behind the counter but let out a squeal at the sight of her princess.

"Princess!" she cried with a heavy accent. She curtsied unbelievably deeply.

"Don't call me princess please. I just need some clothes." She turned to Tyron. "Shoo, shoo. This is female territory." She watched him leave.

"When are you going to be done in there?" Tyron shouted with his back to the bushes where Nyandra was dressing.

"Hold your horses!" she said in an annoying voice. "I'm almost done!"

Just then, Nyandra stepped out from behind the bush. Her beautiful blonde hair was tied up in a ponytail. She was clothed in a pair of dark brown shorts with ties down the sides. She wore a black shirt with a deep plunging neck and ripped sleeves. Even in peasant clothes she still stood out.

Tyron's mouth opened in an instant. Nyandra looked confused.

"Uh-you look nice with your hair back." He looked at her white face, her eyes stood out against her skin and her beauty seemed to be a hundred times more noticeable.

A movement in the bushes stopped their conversation. A dark figure was crouched in the middle.

"Nya run!" Tyron shouted in desperation. It was too late. The figure lunged at her and they disappeared on the other side of the bushes. Nya's scream could be heard for miles.