As the years passed Meira grew to be one of the most beautiful elvish women in all the kingdoms. Because of her beauty and closeness to Prince Damon, she quickly found herself to be the most hated as well.
At age 12 she was sent away to live in a convent. There she studied the fine arts and literature.
Meira knew she was nothing more than a prisoner of war. She clung to the hope that maybe one day she would be free.
**********************************
The sun was setting over the glacier mountains. Far off into the distance there was a sound resembling that of horses trotting and carriage wheels. Although very faint.
Meira rested her head down upon her arms as she leaned agaisnt the cool stone of the window. A gentle breeze ruffled her snow white curls. The air was thick with the smell of rain.
A single Candle lit the tiny room of the convent that she was staying in. Since she began to live there, everything around her had gone from elegant and extravagant to humble and plain. She had a single bed with dull sheets and a pillow that was too firm. On the far end of the room she had a wardrobe filled with the same garments. Every last one of them plain. Beside the wardrobe was a small desk that she used to study and write letters to Prince Damon.
Of course she never sent those letters to him. For all she knew he didn't care she had been gone from his side for 9 years.
She sighed and closed her eyes. Listening to the wind and the final chirpings of the birds for the evening. Today had been her 21st birthday. There was no celebration. No presents. No well wishes. The nuns just continued chores, prayers and studies as usual.
Meira opened her eyes to catch the final traces of light disappear behind the great white mountains.
"Happy Birthday" , she whispered quietly to herself. Tears welling up in her golden eyes. "Prince Damon, please save me."