Prince Borsu of House Maldvern gazed off into the distande from his private balcony. As the oldest of four princess, Borsu had the honor of one day inheriting the throne from his father. Yet he was not happy, his life didn't sit right in his soul. In fact, it all felt wrong.
Borsu touched his right arm gingerly, cringing at the soreness from his sparring practice with Sir Gildon earlier that day. His brothers leapt at the chance to spar, to hone their skills in battle, and longed for the chance to defend their land from evil. But Borsu had no such appetites or desires. He sighed sadly, brushing his sandy long locks aside. Then, thoughtfully, he pulled them back into his sight, looking at them. He retrieved a brush from within, and sat on his bed, watching the sun setting through his long blonde hair, and started brushing it. As he brushed, it brought out its natural softness, and he knew his hair was as soft and pretty as any woman's was; in fact, it was the physical attribute he was most proud of. He had broad shoulders, a hairy chest, and rugged good looks, but Borsu had a secret.
He didn't care about the muscles, his natural strength, his skill with the lance and sword, or being a warrior at all. More than anything else, Borsu wanted to be a princess, taken care of by a big strong handsome prince. He spied other men from afar, secretly longing to be taken up in their arms and secreted away to live happily ever after. But there would be no such life for Prince Borsu, as far as he could see. No, no, the prince was being groomed to defend his kingdom, to be wed to the lovely lady Serys of Fegal, and lead his brothers into glorious battle.
Borsu sighed whistfully. "The Lady Serys has no idea how lucky she is. I would give anything to switch places with her." He brushed his long hair until it looked like a woman's, and imagined himself as a girl. "Anything at all."
With a sigh, Borsu shed his tunic and lay naked back on his bed, drifting off into sleep. The darkness set in, and deep in the night Borsu lost himself in the twilight dreamscape of his mind. Then a voice cut through the darkness, calling out to him.
"BORSU, CHILD OF ELDITHAR. COME SEEK ME IN BLENSHIRE, AND I WILL OFFER YOU YOUR HEART'S DESIRE."
With that, Borsu woke up with a start, his strong sweat, covered body shaking in the cool night air, long hair tickling his bare back as he caught his breath.