The Princess Fugitive: A Reimagining of Little Red Riding Hood

This is the problem with having a best friend who is also your cousin, and has known you since you were born" said Sara to Ava " She's always trying to stomp on your dreams

She smiled up at him playfully. 'Well, I guess in that case, it's a good thing I've just been told I need a warrior hero for my husband. Apparently, that's what the kingdom wants. For myself, I want a man who's strong and loyal and good. And, even more importantly, one who brings out the good in me. One who'll make me into a better queen. And I think you might be the only man for the job.

The blue gray of his eyes always managed to convey a deadly strength that seemed fitting for a guard.

But now she served a very different king, one who decreed that his kingdoms thrived when ruled by love. True love.

The High King?" Max looked confused for a moment, then his brow smoothed. "Ah yes, our mysterious overlord and the commander of the godmothers. So, he's involved in all of this, is he?

You are divided," said the High King, simply. "Your father did his best to shape you after his own image. He created a predator. A wolf, if you will. And ever since then, the create that he formed has been masquerading as a princess and attempting to devour the rest of you. the real you.

It was a hard thought to fathom. A world without her father. And, strangely, it was also a freeing though. A world without her father.

They say that godmothers are there to ensure that true love always reigns over the kingdom,” said Hans, his hand leaving his sword to tug at his jacket. “They help deserving princes and princesses but also deserving woodcutters and the like.” He threw an apologetic glance at Ava. “Ah, yes.” The godmother nodded. “I see that someone was listening.” She turned back to Ava. “And I’m afraid that a princess you may be, young lady, but deserving you are not.” Ava gasped in outrage and straightened as tall as she could go. “And who decides who is and is not deserving?” she spat at the godmother. “You?” “Of course not!” The godmother seemed genuinely surprised at Ava’s response. “We serve the High King. He is the one who determines who receives our help.” “The High King?” Ava and Hans exchanged equally bewildered looks. “Who’s he?” “Who is the High King!?! Only the ruler over the Four Kingdoms, and the lands beyond. Who indeed!” Hans and Ava continued to look confused, and the godmother shook her head darkly. “Degenerate times we live in, degenerate times.” Ava shook herself out of her stupefaction. “And where does the ‘High King’ live?” She asked skeptically. “In the Palace of Light, of course.

Standing, Ava went over to the mare and took her snout in both hands, resting