Princess TalenaI was not supposed to be smiling.Queens-in-training were expected to maintain composure, dignity, and something my tutors liked to call measured emotional restraint. Apparently that did not include grinning at my reflection like an idiot while my handmaiden tried to finish fastening my hair."He is coming," I said again.I may have done a little dance while saying that. Shaking my rear in a very unprincess-like way."Yes, Your Highness," Miranda replied patiently, though she had already heard me say it four dozen times in the last ten minutes."Not just attending," I added. "He is coming to meet Father and then go to the Isle and protect me at the Martial Arts Gala."Miranda lifted a section of my hair and began weaving the final pins into place with careful fingers. "That is generally what protectors do, my princess.""You are missing the point.""I suspect I am not," she said calmly.I turned slightly in my chair, trying to see the arrangement of silver clasps she was threading through the back of my hair. The mirror showed enough to make me satisfied. My hair fell in long waves of pale silver with the faintest violet sheen, and Miranda had arranged it so the royal clasp sat just above the curve of my neck."Perfect," I said."You said that five minutes ago.""Yes, but now I mean it more."Miranda stepped back to examine the result, her dark eyes scanning the lines of the gown laid across my shoulders. The dress itself was deep midnight blue, woven with mana-thread filaments that shimmered faintly when the light shifted. It hugged the waist before falling into layered silk that moved when I breathed."You look like a princess," she said."I am a princess.""Yes," Miranda replied evenly. "But tonight you look like the kind that starts wars."I considered that. "Good. I want him to lose his breath when he sees (...)