The Tale of Princess Talia
The great hall was decorated elegantly, torches were blazing with fire, and the large mob of masked people was swaying merrily. Scrumptiously eye-popping food was laden in golden utensils across the table in a corner ready to be devoured. Father was sitting on his throne beside the fireplace, along with me sitting on his right on a smaller throne, and onto his left was my stepmother. The masquerade ball was thrown by my father, the great king Eric, on the occasion of my eighteenth birthday with such great pomp and lavishness that royals from the entire Windsor kingdom had been invited. “Talia my love, why don’t you join the mob.” said father merrily, removing his mask and taking a sip of wine from his goblet. “Talia my dear, when the masquerade concludes, I would request you to enter my
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