Heaven forbid the fair princess knew what she wanted. It was simply not done.

In the Kingdom of Just-A-Little-Farther-Away, Kings were almighty, dragons to be feared, and princesses to shut up and be pretty.

Princess Mira spent her life brushing her long golden hair, looking demure in the latest fashionable gown, and reading every book she could get her hands on in the broom cupboard below the stairs of the servant quarters.

Her father the King did not know she could read. He'd likely have her cursed by a witch if he ever found out.

She'd bribed the harpsichord tutor with some of her gold jewelry until he'd caved and taught her the basics. Last Mira heard, he'd fled the Kingdom right after, never to be seen again.

The servants considered it a royal—and therefore totally reasonable—quirk when they saw her gallivanting through the library with one of her hat boxes. She found it could hide up to four books, and nobody of sane mind would ever ask to see a lady's hat, lest she start yammering about the latest fashion.

The books transported her to lands unseen, taught her fighting techniques she'd never put to practice, and showed her the human body dissected—that image being the centerfold of an anatomy book she found most intriguing, especially when it came to the appendages she discovered.

Her childhood was a happy one, as long as she could escape the all-seeing gaze of her proper mother and steered clear of her father altogether.

One day, she was summoned to the throne room for an audition with the King.

Mira had hoped her parents would forget about her birthday, like they usually did. In the end, it took them three months to remember she was sixteen now, but remembered they had.

Her fate was sealed.

Because what good was a princess if not married to a handsome prince? Ideally heir to a Kingdom of greater import.

Luckily, Mira had a plan. During the last tournament, she'd observed every eligible prince to find the one least aggravating.

Her eyes had landed on Prince Maurin of the Long-Lost Kingdom.

For one, his Kingdom was far from Just-A-Little-Farther-Away, which suited Mira just fine.

Two, she was not above admitting his striking blue eyes and curling hazel hair, paired with a strong, tall body sent a flutter of heat through her every time she saw him.

Three, he was rumored to have slain a dragon, which meant he'd be equipped to deal with her mother.

Most importantly though, he'd thanked his servant.

It was outrageous really. One did not acknowledge servants unless absolutely necessary. However, the prince had looked up, smiled at the graying man, and uttered, 'Thank you, Edgar.'

Mira's heart had squeezed in her chest, before overflowing with simple joy. She'd found her Prince.

Kneeling before her father's throne, her mind whirred with the plans she'd crafted.

"My daughter, it's time for you to marry." Her father sounded bored with the matter. Her mother, seated to his right, looked stern as if she willed Mira to behave. "Your mother will study the suitable candidates and send invitations for a grand ball."

"Yes, Father," Mira said with her eyes fixed on the dark stone floor of the throne room. "I will bring the Ancestry book to your chambers at once, Mother."

Later that afternoon, Mira carried the heavy book containing all nobles of worth up the stairs to her mother's bedchamber.

Only it was less heavy than it once had been. With great care, Mira had removed the pages of the worst offenders, princes who hit their servants, kicked their horses or were too meek to stand up for themselves.

In the evening, she left the stuffy bedchamber with a pile of invitations in hand which, so she'd assured her mother, she'd deliver to the Royal Messenger at once.

She did, after hiding invitations to five more offending Princes she hadn't been able to remove from the book without arousing suspicion.

Two months passed in relative peace, if not for the war scenes Mira devoured in her cupboard.

She was roused by her lady maid early in the morning of the grand ball to be trussed up like a chiffon-covered turkey. Her body was oiled until Mira smelt like a garden bursting with roses and lavender. Her hair was pulled back and brushed and curled and yanked until she was sure her scalp would come off. The corset was so tight Mira knew she'd be able to fall asleep and stay perfectly upright. Given the boring state affairs ladies of her stature needed to attend, that might very well be why they were designed that way.

Mira could only gape at the apparition the shiny copper mirror showed and hoped Prince Maurin wouldn't run away screaming.

The pale blue of the lavish dress made her look like a particularly bland perennial, and the expression on her face was one of baffled wonder as her hair was pulled back so tight her eyebrows were raised.

Her Father opened the ball with the announcement of her upcoming betrothal, promising he'd select three candidates who'd fight for her hand in the days to come.

Mira guarded her expression with care. Rolling her eyes was not done, or so her Mother kept telling her.

Every one of the twenty Princes who attended the ball had one dance with her. All but one received false information from the Princess they were hoping to marry.

Mira suggested her Father was interested in agricultural discoveries (he was not), told one of her suitors he should demand to see the treasure room (her Father loathed demanding ninnies), and hinted to another he should thump her Father's shoulders to show his strength (which might get the poor sod thrown in the dungeons).

During her dance with Prince Maurin, she fumbled for words to impress the man she was about to share her life with. The only thing her hopeless mind came up with was an exposé about the war between Dragon Isle and the Troll Queen. He was reduced to stunned silence until she was ripped from his arms by another suitor.

By the end of the evening, the King announced he'd found three Princes worthy of his daughter. Prince Maurin was named last, erasing Mira's fear that he'd walked away after her inadvertent demonstration of intelligence. She'd never intended to lay it on him so quickly; one had to ease men into these discoveries with care.

The candidates were to chase away one of three monsters who inhabited the forests of the Just-A-Little-Farther-Away Kingdom and rescue Mira from a tall tower.

Mira had spent much of her time eavesdropping on the Royal Adviser, who'd come up with the test of strength the Princes were subjected to. She knew the tower could only be reached by four paths, three guarded by the monsters and one protected by a legion of her Father's army.

Once the King and his adoring court deemed the next day mature enough to get up, a draw decided which Prince would fight which monster. Facing her pale, hungover father, Mira suggested she have the honor of drawing the names from the golden bowl. He was happy to agree as long as she stopped talking to him.

The sleight of hand she'd found in one of her books worked like magic. "Prince Maurin, you are tasked with defying the Ogre."

The others earned the questionable honor to fight the Giant Wolf and the baby dragon respectively. Mira sincerely hoped the tiny dragon would tear Prince Olonn's head off; she liked the crimson-scaled creature more than the grinning oaf.

It was decided that Mira be brought to the tower at first light of morning. She suspected her father just wanted to get back to bed and couldn't be bothered with seeing the Princes off today, which gave her ample time to set her plan in motion.

In the kitchen, she gathered the chocolate chip cookies Cook had baked at her kind request and smiled at the plump woman. "We'll be moving to Long-Lost soon, Olga."

The woman who'd been more like a mother to her than the Queen had ever been, nodded and opened her arms. Even without the capacity to speak, the hug she gave Mira told her about love and loyalty.

Under the cover of dusk, Mira traveled the path to the woods until she reached the crossing where the Ogre lived. The hulking form appeared from behind a tree, sniffing the air.

"My friend, I have cookies for you. The ones you like most," she coaxed.

The Ogre drooled in the most adorable way and reached for the cookies like a large, rather smelly child. Mira handed him one of her little treasures with a smile.

"Tomorrow, a man will come. I want you to roar and claw at him a little. When he swings his sword, pretend you're scared and run. Can you do that?"

The Ogre nodded with a hopeful expression on his broad face. Mira fed him another cookie.

"Who's a good boy?" she whispered, scratching the hairy monster behind the ear until he groaned in delight.

Upon her return, she dressed in the kitchen boy's clothes before pulling a fashionable walking dress over the inappropriate attire. Unable to sleep, Mira sat on her bed for the rest of the night, waiting for first light.

It arrived together with the head of the guard, who escorted her outside.

As soon as the guard locked her in the tall tower and disappeared around the bend of the path, Mira retrieved her daggers from the folds of the dress and struggled out of the garment.

She crawled out of the window at the top of the tower and made a slow descent, burying her daggers into the mortar between the bricks of the tower. Her horse-driving tutor had found great pleasure in seducing her maid, leaving Mira with ample time to roam in nature. Climbing rocks had become a challenge she loved to engage in, which served her well now.

Her Mother had never quite understood how she returned home covered in bruises and scratches. How many times could a Princess fall off a tame horse?

When her slippered feet touched the dewy grass, Mira threw her walking dress back on and brushed herself off. With as much grace as she could muster, she ambled down the path towards the Ogre.

In the distance, she heard the Ogre roar, right on schedule. Further to the east, the baby dragon let out its fiercest, tiny cry. She wished Arnie good fortune in burning the oaf he faced.

She had to walk another half a mile before she encountered a dazzling Prince Maurin on horseback.

"My Prince, thank the stars. You've come to rescue me," Mira exclaimed with practiced drama. She put her hand on her forehead in a faint gesture and studied her Prince from beneath lowered eyelids.

A broad smile bloomed on his striking face. "My beautiful Princess..."

She fluttered her eyelashes and promised herself it was the first and last time she did.

"...you can cut the act now. I promise I didn't hurt your Ogre," he drawled.

Mouth agape, Mira stared at his sparkling eyes.

He offered her his hand. "Shall we announce our betrothal to your doting parents?"

Staring at the face of the man she could see herself loving one day, Mira smiled. "We shall."

He rode off with her under a clear sky where, as if born from magic, a rainbow had appeared. Arnie soared high above them, shrieking a piercing farewell, and the smell of chocolate chip cookies hung heavy in the air.

Everyone lived happily ever after. Everyone, but Prince Olonn who lost most of his prized golden hair and the entirety of his bushy eyebrows.