It was a beautiful night in Minas Tirith. 16-year-old Avril was standing on the balcony outside of her bedroom. Her long, red-brown hair was tied back in a ponytail and her bright blue-green eyes sparkled in the moonlight. Her white dressing gown flapped around her bare ankles as a gentle breeze blew her way. Suddenly, she heard a noise. She turned around. It was Aragorn, King of Gondor and Avril’s father.

‘Hello, sweetheart,’ he said.

‘Hi, Daddy,’ said Avril, ‘Why are you here?’

‘I have something to tell you,’ said Aragorn.

‘What?’ Avril asked her father.

‘Come here,’ Aragorn said.

He sat down on Avril’s bed. Avril sat next to her dad.

‘This is important, so please listen carefully,’ said Aragorn.

Avril nodded.

‘When you were born, Elrond, your Grandfather, sent word that your mother and I arrange your marriage when you are sixteen years old,’ Aragorn said, ‘So I have arranged for you to meet one of the guards tomorrow.’

‘Oh,’ said Avril, ‘Okay. Fine by me.’

‘Good,’ said Aragorn. ‘Your mother is very concerned that you might not like him.’

‘I probably will,’ said Avril. ‘I like all of the other guards. Especially Jeff. He’s funny.’

Aragorn sighed.

‘Heniach nin, Gwirithiel?’ he said.

‘Mae, Ada,’ said Avril.

Aragorn nodded. He got up.

‘See you in the morning,’ he said to Avril.

‘Navaer, Ada,’ said Avril. ‘Le melon.’