23.

crown

It was a beautiful thing, all airy crystal and spun gold. There were pearls studding the base, and delicate glass flowers trailing up the points.

Aut looked at the beautiful crown and saw it for what it was: a lock on her luxurious cage.

She looked out at her wedding procession, the bridal suite overlooking the courtyard, some sixteen stories in the air. The wicked man she was to marry was mingling with the guests, his sharp smile on his face, his cruel hands gently touching the people he was to rule. Those hands would be bruising her, later in the night.

Turning back into the room, she stared at the dress her servents held up, heavy lace and silk.

Aut turned around and flew out the window.